Free Chrome: With a Heart Forged in Steele (Carolina Bad #4) by Rie Warren Page A

laced my fingers between hers and steered her up the steps, across the porch, into the house.
    “You really live here ?”
    “Yeah.” Now this was just starting to get embarrassing, especially considering her home life.
    Rayce deserved a house like this, a life with all the perks.
    “My folks’ house. They left it to me, Brodie, and Cat. I bought them out last month.” I sort of winced-cringed with that confession.
    Rayce walked inside, her eyes wide. “It’s a beautiful home, Boomer.” She began to remove her jacket, and I rushed to help her out of it, my hands skimming her shoulders.
    “I know about your parents.” Her head lowered, she brushed her fingers against mine. “Is it sick I’m still a little bit jealous you had this? At least for a while? The happy family. The whole nine yards.”
    My heart clenched in my chest. Raising her face, I gazed into her deep hazel eyes.
    I’ll give you that if you let me, princess.
    I kissed her forehead, closing my eyes, breathing her perfume—Rayce and leather and something purely feminine underneath it all.
    Bending farther down, I lashed a quick, hot, wet kiss on her lips, and she curled up on her tiptoes to follow me when I drew back.
    Then I broke completely away from her to get an absolute eyeful of her get-up. Minus the cold weather clothes, she was eye-popping hot. And her top? It fell off one shoulder. Slid in slippery-looking silky material over her tits. Gathered above her breasts with a small bow, leaving a peephole showing a healthy amount of cleavage.
    It was peacock blue.
    It made my cock pulse.
    The tie above her tits echoed the black rawhide lashings lacing her leathers together low—very low—on her hips.
    “What?” She tugged at the shirt.
    “Don’t move. Jesus fucking Christ.”
    Cole appeared in the archway to the kitchen, chuckling as I stared-tried-not-to-stare. “Why don’t you just leave your mark on her already?”
    “Fuck off. Can still yank your patch and make you a Nomad.”
    Rayce traced a fingertip down my cheek. “C’mon on, babe. Don’t you have some cooking to do?”
    I followed her like a dog on a leash.
    In the kitchen, Cole had returned to chopping, stirring, drinking. Ever the handy Probie, he passed a glass of wine to Rayce.
    I put the rack in the stove. Heat blazed from inside the preheated oven, but it had nothing on Rayce’s undeviating gaze as she watched my ass, my shoulders, my body as I moved around the kitchen.
    I needed the opposite of Viagra.
    As fate would have it, the opposite of Viagra arrived with no doorbell ringing but the front door banging open and what sounded like dozens of feet marching inside, a thousand voices filling the house.
    The entire crazy circus had arrived en masse—Cat, Nick, Brodie, Ashe, and Cara. Luckily no Viper today. Not that I had anything against the Rottie-bitch, but the last time Nick had brought the dog along she’d about torn up my house with Shitlock in the lead, JJ and Cara racing right after them.
    Even without the Rottweiler, pure chaos ensued. The unexpected snow. The contagious high of the holidays and a family get-together.
    Nick helped Cat remove her coat, showing off a rounded tummy—the fetus now five-months-old. Nick’s violet-colored eyes glowed as he rubbed a large hand over the burgeoning baby bump.
    Rayce hung back until I drew her to my side in the hallway after I directed folks on where to put coats, presents, bottles of liquor, and side dishes. She pressed up, kissing the corner of mouth.
    “Boomer just got him some!” Brodie jerked off his gloves.
    “Eat me.”
    “I think that’s Rayce’s job, and besides, aren’t you supposed to feed me today?” Brodie’s blond hair shimmered as he flung off snowflakes. “Who ordered the Father Christmas weather? What the fuck?”
    “I didn’t hear that .” Cara lifted her earmuffs long enough to say, “I’m going sledding out back.”
    “On what?” New dad Brodie squinted at her.
    “Broken down