Siren's Salvation (Reapers Rejects MC: Second Generation: Nevada Book 4) by Elizabeth Knox

Author:Elizabeth Knox [Knox, Elizabeth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Knox Publishing
Published: 2025-01-21T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIX

Shiver

I lean against the clubhouse wall, watching Siren take another drag from her joint.

The afternoon sun catches in her dark hair, highlighting streaks of chestnut.

She exhales slowly, smoke curling from her lips.

"You know those things'll kill ya," I drawl, unable to keep the smirk off my face.

Siren arches an eyebrow. "So will fuckin’ someone from another charter, but here we are."

I bark out a laugh.

Damn, I love her sharp tongue. "Touché, darlin'. Though I'd argue I'm more likely to give you life than take it away."

She rolls those captivating hazel eyes, but I catch the hint of a smile. "You're so full of shit, Shiver."

"Maybe." I push off the wall and saunter over to her. "But admit it, you like it."

Siren takes another drag, watching me through narrowed eyes.

I pluck the joint from her fingers and take a pull myself before crushing it under my boot.

"Hey!" she protests. "I wasn't done with that."

I crowd her space, backing her against the wall. "I've got something better for those pretty lips to do."

Her breath catches as I lean in, our mouths a whisper apart.

Just as she starts to close the distance, I pull back with a wicked grin. "Like tell me what you want for lunch. I'm starving."

Siren shoves me away with a groan. "You're such an asshole."

I laugh, throwing an arm around her shoulders as we head inside. "Yeah, but I'm your asshole."

The words slip out before I can stop them.

Shit.

I shouldn't be getting this comfortable, acting like we're more than what we are.

In less than two weeks, I'll be back in Vegas and she'll be here.

This thing between us has an expiration date.

But damn if I'm not enjoying every second until then.

Inside the clubhouse, a few of the guys are sprawled on couches, nursing beers despite the early hour.

I nod at Cobra as we pass.

"You two lovebirds decide what's for lunch?" he calls out.

I flip him off without breaking stride. "Fuck you, man."

His laughter follows us into the kitchen.

Siren hops up on the counter, swinging her legs as I rummage through the fridge.

"How about grilled cheese?" I ask, holding up a package of cheddar.

She wrinkles her nose. "Pass. I want real food."

I close the fridge and lean against it, crossing my arms. "Grilled cheese is real food."

"It's what you feed children when you're too lazy to cook."

"Hey now, don't go insulting my culinary skills."

Siren snorts. "What skills? I've yet to see any evidence you can actually cook."

I clutch my chest in mock offense. "You wound me, darlin'. I'll have you know I make a mean bowl of cereal."

She laughs, the sound wrapping around me like a comforting hug.

Christ, I'm in trouble here.

"Tell you what," I say, pushing off the fridge. "How about we go grab some real food in town? My treat."

Siren's eyes light up. "Now you're talking. But I'm driving."

I groan. "C'mon, I've seen how you drive. I'd like to make it to lunch in one piece."

She hops down from the counter, poking me in the chest. "My driving is impeccable, thank you very much.

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