Chapter 24: Right Past Them

Rafe drove us back to Pine Fork through the night, and I woke in my old room above Haskell's on the morning of the Run.

A man's arm lay across my waist, and gray light filled the window.

The Panhead stood in the lot below on its trailer, finished.

I had painted it in six days, in the north bay in Bend, with the door locked, before the Saints rode in to find me.

Rafe had brought sandwiches I forgot to eat.

Behind me, Rafe breathed against my neck.

"You're awake," he said into my hair.

"How can you tell?"

"You stopped smelling like turpentine in your sleep."

I turned over. His eyes were open, gray and clear, and the scar through his brow caught the light.

"Come here," I said.

He came.

He kissed me slowly, with no hurry in it at all.

I felt it all the way down to my feet.

I pushed the blanket off us.

The room was cold and the bed was warm, and every place his skin touched mine woke up.

"Tell me what you want," he said.

"I want to ride out of this town with your hands on me first."

He laughed, low, and then he stopped laughing.

He kissed down my throat and over my breasts, taking his time.

He took one nipple into his mouth, and I arched and gripped his hair.

His hand slid between my thighs.

I was already wet.

He stroked me, slow and sure, with two fingers inside and his thumb on my clit.

He watched my face the whole time.

"Rafe."

"I know."

"Don't make me wait."

"I'm not making you do anything."

"Then fuck me."

He rose over me and pushed in, deep, and we both gasped at the same moment.

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