Page 12 of Grim’s Angel

McKenna bites her lower lip. That draws my attention to her mouth and makes the pressure behind my zipper worse.

“Open the medical room,” I tell him. “Secure the gates and let the brothers know we have a guest.”

Striker is still laughing. “Anything else?”

“Yeah. If you’re smiling when I arrive, I’ll put you on the second table.”

The laughter stops.

“Understood, Prez.”

I end the call.

McKenna folds her arms beneath her breasts. The position lifts them, testing both my patience and the fit of my jeans.

“You’re the prez?”

“Yeah.”

She studies me as if that explains several things at once. “Your friend has a strange sense of humor.”

“He has poor survival instincts.”

“You threatened to put him on a medical table.”

“It worked.”

A reluctant smile touches her mouth. “You sounded fond of him.”

“Keep that opinion to yourself.”

She removes the bloodied gauze and replaces it with a fresh pad before using her scarf to bind it against my shoulder.

“This will hold until someone stitches it.”

She strips off the gloves and seals them with the bloody gauze in a plastic bag from her kit.

I stand, forcing her to rise with me.

The top of her head barely reaches my chin. My body blocks the rain, and she has to tilt her face back to meet my eyes.

The size difference does something primitive to me.

So do her curves.

The assignment gave me a photograph and enough identifying details to find her. It failed to show how full her mouth is, how freckles scatter across her nose, or how the belt of her coat pulls tight around a waist made for a man’s hands. A single flat image could never have warned me that every soft inch of her would make my palms itch to learn how she feels beneath them.

Her scent reaches me beneath the rain, something warm and faintly sweet.

My cock goes from really interested to rock hard.

McKenna glances down before dragging her eyes back to my face. Color climbs beneath her freckles.

She noticed.

Good.

I retrieve the transport man’s abandoned gun and secure it in the left saddlebag for Torch to examine. Then I set McKenna’s suitcase upright, careful to leave space between us when I return it.