Page 43 of Kane

He leaned back just enough to look into my eyes, his voice rough with emotion. “You belong here. With me. Wearing that vest and my ring. Carrying my name.”

“And maybe more,” I whispered, sliding my palm down to rest over my stomach. It was too soon to tell, but he’d certainly done his best to try to get me pregnant.

Kane’s entire body went still. Then his mouth crashed down on mine—hot, possessive, and wild. He gave me a kiss that promised everything.

When he pulled away, he rasped, “Mine, and now the whole damn world knows it.”

There was no question. I was Kane’s. And I’d never stop choosing him.

EPILOGUE

KANE

One week later

The roar of engines vibrated through the packed stands, the sound of power and speed thundering in my bones, a familiar rhythm I’d never get tired of. The scent of gasoline, burnt rubber, and sweat hung heavy in the summer air, thick and gritty as hell under the midday sun.

We were at Redline Speedway. My professional team was ridin’ today, but still—my track, my race, my rules.

Yet I couldn’t focus worth a damn on the cars roaring down the track.

Not when Savannah stood beside me, looking like every man’s wet dream.

She leaned against the railing of the owner’s box, sipping an ice-cold soda with a smirk playing on her lips, her tank top stretched tight across her chest and showing off the logo for my pro racing team. Her old lady vest hugged her curves perfectly, and low-slung jeans wrapped around her hips like a fucking invitation.

I wasn’t the only one who noticed. Every time we moved through the damn crowd, I saw eyes lingering. Heads turning. Some motherfuckers didn’t even try to hide it.

“I hate those jeans,” I muttered, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her flush against me.

Savannah looked up, blinking those innocent blue eyes at me like she didn’t know exactly what she was doing. “What? These?”

I growled, letting my hand slide down to cup her ass over the tight denim. “Every man in this arena wants you in those jeans.”

She laughed, soft and teasing, leaning her head back against my shoulder. “You’re being ridiculous. No one’s even looking.”

I let out a snort and nipped her ear. “They look, sugar. And if you so much as take a step away from me, I’ll put you over my knee right here in front of every asshole in this building. You won’t be able to sit for a week.”

Her breath hitched, and her smile curved slow and wicked. “Uh-huh.”

I stiffened behind her, heat coiling low in my gut. “You think I’m joking?”

Savannah turned in my arms, rising on her toes to press a soft kiss to my jaw. “I think you talk a lot, Kane Beckett.”

My eyes narrowed.

Challenge accepted.

Without another word, I took her hand and dragged her toward the back of the box. Her surprised laughter followed me as I shoved open the supply closet door and pulled her inside. The door slammed shut behind us, and I backed her against the wall, crowding into her space, my hands already gripping her hips.

“Kane!” she gasped.

“You know better than to poke the beast, sugar,” I rasped, capturing her mouth in a bruising kiss.

She moaned, fingers tangling in my cut as I lifted her, hooking her legs around my waist. My cock was already hard, already straining against my leather pants.

I shoved up her tank top and groaned at the sight of her nipples pebbling as the air hit them. I sucked one into my mouth, loving the way her body arched into me, desperate and needy.

“We can’t?—”