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quickly shoved that old pain away.
    Smirking, I dragged my fingers up her bare arms. “Need a hand with anything on it, little missy?”
    “Little missy!” she spluttered, jerking beyond my reach. “Seriously?” Her eyes blazed like lethal fires. “I’m about to go pissy with a steel toe cap to your scrotal sac!” She stomped her boot.
    I laughed uproariously. Shit, it felt good messing around with her.
    “You are not funny,” she muttered.
    Turning her back on me, she tightened down the screws on the carburetor, continuing to fume. “Probably too old to even ride a bike let alone know how to fix one . . .”
    Quietly walking up behind her, I folded my forearms around her waist, over her tummy. I let out a low rumble of a sound when I pulled her into the cradle of my groin where my heavy cock pulsed strongly.
    Rayce’s breath hitched as my forearms brushed the undersides of her tits.
    “Actually, princess,” I spoke roughly into her ear. “Pretty sure I could run laps”—licking the side of her neck up to her jaw, I paused with my lips pressed against her—“around guys half my age.”
    I grinded against her, my fingers grazing the undersides of her breasts. Her nipples rose into stiff buds.
    “Can you feel what I have to give you?” I sucked the skin of her neck.
    Her ass circled against me. “I never doubted you were a big boy.”
    I sank down so my rigid cock rode right against her rear end, and she tossed her head back with a moan. With my hand on her belly, I pressed her harder against me. For a moment, we stood like that. Sexy, almost-fucking in the middle of Stone’s Garage. No sound but her moans and my grunts.
    She turned abruptly and clutched my shirt in both hands. She arched into me, and more heat surged inside my cock.
    “You wanna see me naked?” she asked.
    “Yes.” My jaw tensed and I buried my fingers in her hair.
    “You might wanna ask me out on a date or two first.” She nimbly ducked away from me, leaving me holding nothing but air.
    “See, I’m old-fashioned like that, somethin’ you should know about me.” She closed her tool chest and gathered her jacket and backpack while I watched, dumbstruck.
    “Close your mouth, Boomer.” She laughed.
    “Actually, his real name’s Harold.” Stone chose that precise moment to appear.
    “Yeah? And yours is Pain In My Ass,” I slung back at him the same time my block-like fist hit him in the ribs.
    “Harold?” Rayce’s nose scrunched up, exactly how I felt about my real first name. “Harold. Huh . Guess that works for an old man .”
    Aaaand she laughed again.
    With that she sauntered away.
    “Damn.” I leaned a little to watch that ass sway. I couldn’t even figure out what the hell had just happened here.
    All I knew was Rayce was hot.
    I stood there grinning when I should’ve been glaring at Stone until I called out, “You’re welcome for your bike, princess!”
    “Thank you, Boomer ,” came her sweet reply from somewhere out in the dark parking lot.

Chapter Five
    Racy Rayce
     
     
     
    HUNTER HAD COME UP with one hell of a cockamamie idea. Cockamamie. Jesus. That was what our mom had said whenever Brodie fixated on another harebrained scheme like giving Cat rides in his little red wagon before she was old enough to sit up.
    But back to Hunter and his very own off-the-wall plan . . . wellll. Turned out when you lived most of your adult life outrunning danger, outgunning bad guys, then found the woman you wanted to settle down with, you wouldn’t let anything stand in your way. Especially when her life had been threatened because of you. Apparently you grew a big set of brass balls, too.
    A week or so after the motherfucking MC Muerte raid, Hunter Angelo -no-longer-Sexton was instated as full Vice Detective in the Mt. Pleasant Police Department. That made two of our own who were fully legit: Hunter joining my almost sister-in-law Ashe on the force.
    But that wasn’t the fucked up idea. Nope.
    Detective Hunter