Page 4 of Gunner (Iron Sentinels MC #3)

D awn stood in front of her mirror, biting her lip as she eyed the mess of clothes scattered across her bed. Nothing looked right. One outfit felt too casual, the other too dressy. She was stuck somewhere between not wanting to look like she was trying too hard and wanting to look good for Gunner.

Gunner . Just thinking of him made her pulse skip. The man was nothing like the guys she was used to. He was dangerous in a way that excited her, confident without arrogance, and damn if he wasn’t the most attractive man she’d ever laid eyes on.

Sighing, she finally settled on a simple but flattering black dress, one that hugged her in all the right places but wasn’t over the top.

She paired it with ankle boots, added a hint of makeup, and ran a hand through her dark waves, deciding to let them fall naturally.

Dawn wasn’t the kind of woman to fuss over every detail, but tonight felt different. Special.

A knock at the door sent a flutter of nerves through her stomach. She took a deep breath, smoothed her dress, and opened it to find Gunner leaning casually against the doorframe.

Gunner looked devastatingly good in dark jeans, a fitted henley, and a leather jacket. His intense gaze traveled over her slowly, like he was committing her to memory.

“Damn,” he murmured, smirking at her. “You’re a sight.”

Heat bloomed in her cheeks. “You clean up pretty well yourself,” she pointed out.

He chuckled, his deep voice sending a pleasant shiver down her spine. “Ready to go?”

She nodded, grabbing her purse and stepping out, locking the door behind her. He led her to his bike, the powerful machine gleaming under the streetlights.

“You ever been on one of these?” he asked, handing her a helmet.

“Once or twice,” she admitted, securing it in place.

“Well, hold on tight, honey.”

She swallowed as she climbed on behind him, her hands hesitating before resting lightly on his sides. The moment he revved the engine and took off, she instinctively tightened her grip around his waist.

His solid warmth, the way his muscles tensed beneath her fingers, made her heartbeat accelerate for reasons that had nothing to do with the speed.

They rode through the city, the wind cool against her skin, the lights blurring past. There was something intoxicating about the way he moved with the bike, like he was in perfect sync with the machine.

By the time they pulled up to a cozy little restaurant tucked away from the busy streets, her nerves had settled into excitement.

Gunner helped her off the bike, his hands lingering at her waist as she steadied herself. The way he looked at her—like she was something to be savored—made her stomach tighten.

The restaurant was warm and inviting, candlelit with rustic decor. He led her to a table in the corner, giving them some privacy. The moment they sat, she realized how easily the conversation flowed between them.

Gunner wasn’t just good at looking dangerous, he was observant, funny in a dry way, and had a way of making her feel like she was the only person in the room.

They talked about everything—her job at the diner, his life in the club, the places they’d been, the things they wanted. She found herself lowering her guard, telling him things she didn’t normally share with men. Gunner listened, really listened, and when he spoke, his words carried weight.

At one point, she reached for her drink at the same time he did, their fingers brushing. A current of awareness shot through her, and when she glanced up, his gaze had darkened.

“You do that on purpose?” he asked, voice roughened.

Her breath hitched. “Do what?”

“Make it damn near impossible not to touch you.”

The air between them charged, heavy with unspoken tension.

She could feel the heat of him, the way his fingers flexed as if he was restraining himself.

She wanted to test him, to see what would happen if she leaned just a little closer.

But the waitress arrived with their food, breaking the moment.

Dawn exhaled a shaky breath, forcing herself to focus.

They ate, but the energy between them remained, simmering beneath the surface. Every glance, every brush of his fingers against hers when he passed her something, sent little sparks through her.

When dinner ended, Gunner paid without hesitation, waving off her protests. “You can get the next one,” he said, a promise in his voice.

They stepped outside, and the cool night air did little to calm her racing pulse. He turned to her, brushing a strand of hair from her face, his touch featherlight.

“I had a good time tonight,” he murmured.

“Me too,” she admitted.

He dropped his gaze to her lips, and her breath caught. Gunner was giving her a choice, letting her decide if she wanted to close the distance. And God, did she want to.

She tilted her chin up, just a fraction, and that was all the invitation he needed. Gunner slid his hand around the back of her neck, threading his fingers through her hair as he lowered his mouth to hers.

The kiss was slow at first, exploratory. His lips were firm but soft, coaxing rather than demanding. But when she parted for him, he deepened it, his other hand settling at her waist, pulling her closer. She melted into him, hands fisting the leather of his jacket as heat spread through her veins.

Gunner kissed like he did everything else—with purpose, with intensity, like he was staking his claim. When he finally pulled back, she was breathless, dazed, gripping his jacket to steady herself.

His thumb brushed over her lower lip, his eyes smoldering. “Damn,” he murmured.

She swallowed hard, her heart hammering. “Yeah.”

A slow smirk curved his lips. “That’s a yes to a second date, then?”

She couldn’t help but laugh, shaking her head. “Yeah, Gunner. That’s a yes,” Dawn said.

Satisfied, he pressed one last kiss to her forehead before leading her back to his bike. As she wrapped her arms around him again, she realized something.

She was in trouble. Because this thing with Gunner wasn’t just attraction. It was something more. Something she wasn’t sure she was ready for. But damn if she didn’t want to find out.

****

T he rumble of Gunner’s motorcycle still echoed in Dawn’s chest as he walked her to her apartment door.

The ride home had been exhilarating—her arms wrapped around his solid frame, her body pressed close to his, the feel of the wind whipping around them.

It had left her heart racing in a way that had nothing to do with the speed of the bike.

Now, with Gunner standing so close, his towering presence both protective and intoxicating, she struggled to find her breath.

The night had been perfect, every moment drawing her further into his orbit. The way he looked at her, with that quiet, smoldering intensity, made her feel like she was the only woman in the world.

“This is me,” she said softly, gesturing to her door, though she didn’t move to unlock it just yet.

“I know.” Gunner’s voice was low, rough, sending a shiver down her spine.

He reached out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, his fingertips grazing her skin. The simple touch sent heat curling deep in her belly.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The air between them crackled, charged with something undeniable, something magnetic. Dawn could feel her pulse hammering in her throat as Gunner’s gaze dropped to her lips.

“Dawn,” he murmured, his tone both a warning and a question.

She answered by leaning in first. The moment their lips met, she lost herself in him.

The kiss started slow, a teasing brush of mouths, but quickly deepened. Gunner pulled her closer, his arms wrapping around her as he took control, his lips firm and insistent.

A low, appreciative sound rumbled in his chest as he tilted her head and deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against hers in a way that made her knees weak.

Dawn clung to him, her fingers gripping the leather of his cut, her body molding against his. He tasted like whiskey and danger, like temptation wrapped in leather and muscle.

Every nerve in her body screamed for more, but then reality crept in—she was standing in the hallway, completely lost in this man, her back pressed against her door as if she might invite him inside.

Reluctantly, she pulled back, her breath coming in short, uneven gasps. Gunner didn’t let her go just yet, his forehead resting against hers. He used his thumb to trace slow, lazy circles on her hip.

“If you keep kissing me like that, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice thick with heat, “I won’t want to leave.”

Dawn smiled, though her legs still felt unsteady. “That’s dangerous talk.”

His lips quirked into a smirk, but there was something deeper in his eyes—something that made her stomach flip. This wasn’t just a casual kiss. It was something more.

She stepped back, fumbling for her purse, trying to ground herself before she lost all sense of reason. But in her haste, she knocked it against the doorframe, and it slipped from her fingers, spilling its contents onto the floor.

“Shit,” she muttered, crouching down just as Gunner did the same.

Her phone landed screen-up, the bright glow illuminating a text preview. Her stomach clenched the moment she saw the name. Jesse.

The message was short, but even from the quick glance, she could see the threat in it. Big mistake, Dawn. You’ll regret this. Her blood ran cold.

She snatched the phone up before Gunner could see more than just the name, shoving it back into her purse like it meant nothing. Like it hadn’t just sent a wave of unease crashing over her.

But Gunner was perceptive. His eyes narrowed slightly, his entire posture shifting, sharpening. “Something wrong?”

“No.” The word came too fast, too clipped, and she knew he didn’t buy it.

Gunner didn’t say anything right away. He just watched her, his gaze assessing, his jaw ticking slightly as if debating whether to press her on it. Finally, he sighed, raking a hand through his hair.

“If you say so,” Gunner said.

Dawn forced a smile, trying to push aside the lingering tension in her gut. “It’s nothing. Just ... work stuff.”

She could tell he didn’t believe her, but thankfully, he didn’t call her on it. Instead, he stepped back, giving her space, but not before reaching out and brushing his knuckles along her cheek one last time.

“I’ll call you,” he promised, his voice quieter now, softer.

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

As he turned and walked away, the powerful rumble of his bike starting up filled the quiet night air. Dawn exhaled a shaky breath, pushing her door open and stepping inside.

The moment she was alone, she pulled out her phone, her fingers hovering over the screen. Jesse’s message sat there, taunting her. She should just delete it. Pretend it didn’t rattle her. Jesse was a nobody, a bitter, insecure man who didn’t take rejection well. He wasn’t worth her energy.

And yet... Curiosity won out. Her thumb hesitated, then tapped the message open: You think you can just brush me off like I ’ m nothing? You don ’ t get to make a fool out of me, Dawn. You’ll see.

A cold shiver raced down her spine.

She had no idea what Jesse was capable of, but something told her he wasn’t the kind of man to let things go easily.

And for the first time since rejecting him, she wondered if she’d just made a terrible mistake.

No, she told herself, forcing her spine to straighten.

Of course it wasn’t a mistake. She knew that entertaining guys like Jesse wouldn’t lead to anything good.

Men like him took and took, demanding more than they were owed, twisting reality to suit their egos. She’d seen it before, lived through it with past relationships that left her drained and questioning herself.

But Gunner was different. He didn’t need to play games or push boundaries to prove his worth. He carried himself with the kind of confidence that didn’t demand submission but rather commanded respect.

There was strength in the way he looked at her, a promise in the way he spoke her name. He made her feel something raw and unshaken, something real. And she wasn’t about to let some entitled asshole like Jesse make her second-guess that.