Zak shoved his tongue into his cheek as he watched Sophie climb the stairs to her quarters. Nah, more like climbing the stairs to heaven. For him, anyway.

Maybe fate was handing him back the luck he lost when he got convicted of a crime he didn’t commit. Throughout his life, there had been plenty of other shit he’d done, but what he went down for wasn’t one of them.

Which pissed him off to no end, of course. Ten years living in a tiny cell made of concrete block with what seemed like a different inmate each year could piss you off if you did the crime. Doing time, losing a decade of your life, when you didn’t do the crime made you furious.

He pushed the bitterness that clawed at him out of his head as he followed her through the second-floor door to her place. He was relieved to see she had to unlock it first.

She’d be stupid to leave it unlocked when she wasn’t up there. Hell, it would be stupid to leave it unlocked even if she was. But then, maybe she was thinking she was stupid by letting him come up to her place, her bedroom… her bed.

No matter what, he’d read in her eyes what she wanted. She couldn’t hide it. Though, she probably wasn’t a hundred percent happy about it.

He’d do his very best in the next hour to make it one hundred percent.

When she moved over to her small kitchenette to throw her keys on the counter, he went the opposite direction to the windows at the back. He looked down to see a small stone parking lot where her car sat in the dark. No flood lights. That would have to be taken care of. Then he checked the sashes of both windows. Locked. Good. No deck attached for easy access. Good.

The lack of lighting at the rear of the building ate at him though. He turned and was surprised to find her in the middle of the living room, hands on hips, watching him. “You casing the joint?”

“Yeah.”

“Thought so. I don’t have anything worthwhile to steal.”

“You.”

“What?”

“You. You’re worth stealin’. Some asshole can break in here and have his way with you against your wishes.”

“Like you did last night?”

He shrugged. “You wanted it.”

“That’s what they all say,” she murmured.

There she went again… comparing him to a rapist. Not flattering at all. “Wouldn’t have touched you otherwise.”

“No, me pounding on your back, screaming, wasn’t a sign. At all.”

“Some women like it like that.”

“Caveman style?”

He shrugged again and his gaze bounced around her apartment. It was small, but still a lot bigger than his room upstairs at the clubhouse. And just as barren. He expected her to have pretty little things strewn about the place. She didn’t. Only the basics. Though, nothing wrong with that, either.

“You screamed louder when you came.”

She dropped her gaze to her toes, shook her head and then when she finally looked up, she was wearing that sexy smile of hers. Damn, the one that got him in the gut. Naked, wearing that smile, she’d be perfect. And he’d never leave her bed.

“That I did,” she finally admitted. “Were you that good when you went in? Or did you learn your techniques in prison? Lots of time in there to practice.”

He liked her sense of humor. He liked her business sense from what he could see so far. He liked her. Period.

But he loved sinking into that sweet pussy last night and it was time to get back to business.

Round two. Ding. Ding. Ding.

“You’re still dressed,” he said.

“So are you.”

He slipped his cut off his shoulders and placed it with care over an old wooden rocking chair that was within arm’s reach. Then crossing his arms in front of him, he grabbed the bottom of his thermal tee and yanked it up over his head, tossing it onto the seat of the same chair.

He bent over, unbuckled his boots and kicked them off, then yanked his socks off by the toes, tossing them to the side.

When he straightened, he was barefoot, bare-chested, just wearing his jeans. He leveled his gaze at her. Her eyes were flashing as she studied his chest full of tattoos.

“More?” he asked.

“Hell yes,” she whispered.

He smiled, shook his head and let his fingers drop to his belt buckle. He unclasped it slowly, then unfastened his jeans.

He paused. “Like my tats?”

“No.”

“Liar,” he said, then pushed his jeans and boxers down his thighs and stepped out of them.

His hard-on bobbed as he stood totally naked about ten feet from her. She was too far away for his liking. And still dressed. Her eyes were glued to his dick, which pulled his balls tight.

“Like my tats now?” he asked, stroking himself slowly.

“Nope,” she whispered.

“Get on your knees,” he told her. As she rushed forward and dropped to her knees, he just about fell over in surprise. He did not expect her to do that without some sort of challenge from her first.

When she took him into her mouth, he almost cried. And not cried out, either. Almost shed a fucking tear at how her mouth felt on him. How tight her lips circled him as she rose and fell on his dick. And when she lapped at the crown with her tongue, he dug his hands into her hair and threw his head back.

Holy fuck.

She made a noise at the back of her throat as she took his full length. Fuckin’ A, his whole dick. The vibrations of that noise just about made him lose it. But he didn’t want to lose his load down her throat. Not this time.

He wanted to be inside her when he let loose while listening to her mews, and cries, and demands that he remembered from last night. Noises that were burned into his brain.

“Ah, fuck, babe. You gotta slow down.” His voice sounded higher pitched than normal. He cleared his throat. “Holy shit, slow down. I—”

Fuck. He was going to lose it. Like any second now. Her sweet, hot mouth working him made his head spin. When she cupped his balls and squeezed, he jerked back and away from her, breaking the contact.

His chest heaved with his ragged breathing. “I—” He shook his head as he stared down at her, still on her knees looking up at him, her lips shiny, her eyes hooded. “Which door is your bedroom?”

Without a word, she lifted an arm toward an open door. With a growl, he leaned over, hauled her up and over his shoulder in a repeat of last night and strode through the doorway.

“Hit the light,” he told her as he paused just inside the room. “I wanna make sure I see your face when you come.”

She smacked at the wall and the room lit up. His gaze beelined to the bed and in two strides, he had her tossed in the middle, gasping as she bounced.

“Clothes off.”

“I—” Now she was the one at a loss for words.

“Clothes off,” he repeated. “Hurry.”

She scrambled to a seated position and began to pull off her clothes, throwing them to the floor. When she was finally only in her bra and panties he said, “Panties on.”

Her eyes shot to him, but she listened. Removing her bra, she tossed it without a care, then stilled.

She wore little pink panties.

“Spread your thighs. Let me see.”

She cocked her knees and spread them wide. Just as he thought. Her pink panties were a lot darker along the line of her pussy. Soaked.

She bit her bottom lip. Goddamn, he wanted those teeth in his flesh while he fucked her.

“Tell me you want this. I need to hear it. Don’t wanna hear shit about tonight like last night, babe. Not one word that you didn’t want this.”

“I want this.”

“Say it again. Use my name. I wanna make sure there’s no mistakin’ who’s gonna be slidin’ deep between your thighs.”

“I want this,” she repeated on a breath. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed hard. “Zak.”

He fisted his cock and stroked it once. “That’s right, babe. That won’t be the only time you’re sayin’ my name tonight. Guaranteed. Slide those panties off. Hand ‘em to me.”

Zak’s gut clenched as he continued to stroke himself while she did as told and held out the damp scrap of cloth to him. He snagged them from her fingers and held them to his nose, inhaling. “Damn, your scent’s like honey. Sweet and delicious.” He tossed them to the side.

If he remembered later, he’d find them and take them home with him. He wanted to keep a piece of her honeyed goodness with him.

On his knees, he climbed onto the bed between her legs and stared down at her opened to him, both of her hands cupped her tits, and she pinched her own nipples.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

He needed to sheath himself deep into her warm, slick cunt, but first… He needed to see if she tasted as good as she smelled. He slid onto his belly and dipped his head, purposely dragging his beard across her tender skin, making her hips jerk. She said something, he had no idea what. And when he did it again, he realized what she was saying, “Fuck me, Zak.”

His name on her lips sounded like fucking music to his ears. He would do what he needed to, so he’d hear that favorite song again. And again.

He pressed his lips to her clit and nibbled. Her hips shot off the bed but he went with her, playing with her, teasing, tasting her thoroughly. He sucked the sensitive nub, and she groaned, which in turn, made him groan.

“Fuck me, Zak.”

“Soon,” he murmured against her flesh, as he slipped two fingers inside her. She was ready. So ready for him.

Him.

Zak Jamison. Felon. Patched member of the DAMC. And at that moment, he didn’t think she cared. Right now, to her, he was just Zak. She wanted him.

God, she wanted him. Needed him now. She pulsed around his fingers, ground against his mouth. She was going to come. Damn. How could anyone be so good with their mouth?

Her hips jerked one more time and then she wrapped her legs around his back as her toes curled, her neck arched, and she screamed out his name. An intense ripple ran through her and her eyes fluttered closed.

When her body finally relaxed and her breathing slowed a little, she dropped her legs back to the bed and tipped her head to look at him. He was still lying between her thighs, peering up her body, a huge smile on his face.

Cocky.

He crawled up her body, his cock sliding along her thigh and when he stopped, the head of it bumped her folds. She opened to him, but he didn’t move, just stared down in to her eyes and shook his head.

“Got a wrap?”

A what? Oh, fuck.

Fuck.

He didn’t come prepared?

“I don’t think so.”

His brows raised high and he tilted his head as he studied her. “You haven’t had anyone in your bed since you moved here?”

“No. I normally don’t crawl into bed with just anyone.”

“And you still haven’t.”

Not just cocky, but damn cocky.

She released a ragged sigh. Still didn’t help the situation at hand. “You didn’t bring anything in that big-assed wallet of yours?”

“Been a long time since I had to carry around condoms, babe. Not like I needed them in prison.”

A few thoughts flitted through her mind at his words, but she pushed them away. She didn’t think he’d appreciate her bad humor right now. Especially since he had a hard-on that wouldn’t quit and no way to relieve it at the moment.

Unless… she finished what she started in the living room. But she wanted him inside her. Needed him inside her.

Ugh! Why didn’t she buy condoms the last time she went to the grocery store?

Because she never expected to bring a man into her bed. Stupid, but true.

“Now what?” she asked, the disappointment thick in her voice.

“I fuck you.”

“Without a condom?”

“Yeah.”

“But…”

“Haven’t been with anyone in over ten years, babe. Nobody but you and that was last night. Wasn’t with anyone in prison, either, and that’s all I’ll say ‘bout that. So, yeah, no wrap.”

“Uh, I—”

“You on the pill?”

“No.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah,” she said on a sigh.

He dropped his forehead to hers and blew out a breath. She understood his frustration because she felt it, too.

“Don’t need a kid right now,” he grumbled.

No shit! She didn’t need one, either. Especially with trying to build up her business. Not just that, but one with a felon biker. Even if he’d been falsely accused, he still was labeled a convict. Still had a record.

“Got three options,” he started, the crown of his cock sliding along her slick, swollen lips. “One, I run out an’ get some. Which might take a little time. Two, you wrap that mouth of yours ‘round me like earlier. I promise not to take long if you do. Three, I take your sweet ass. I guess there’s a fourth option… We risk it. Up to you, babe. The third option’s soundin’ pretty good right about now.”

The third option? Holy Hannah. That hadn’t even crossed her mind. She never let anyone do that before to her. Never planned to, either.

She figured out in her head how long it would take for him to run to the nearest twenty-four-hour convenience store. Or, hell, gas station even. That was probably the smartest option, but—

He continued, “Can tell you I’m not likin’ that first option. You might come to your senses and not let me back in.”

True. That could very well happen. Point taken.

“Two would be fine with me, but may not give you what you need.”

Another good point.

He dropped his head and sucked one of her nipples deep into his mouth making it pucker. Lightning shot from her nipple to settle in her core. Damn. His cock was right there, knocking at her front door. And he wanted to go around to the rear.

“Not sure I wanna risk the last option,” he murmured against the curve of her breast, tweaking the other nipple between his fingers. Rolling it, pulling, thumbing the hard tip.

He wasn’t making this decision easy for her. No, he wasn’t. She closed her eyes, trying to concentrate.

“Can make option three good for both of us.” He paused then lifted his head slightly. “Long as you have lube.”

That she did have. Mainly because she had this really awesome glass dildo that she used it with. One that hit her G-spot just right.

“Not hearin’ your vote,” he said against her lips before kissing her hard, exploring her mouth with his tongue. Probing, searching, teasing. He swallowed her groan. She swallowed his.

He shoved his face into her neck, inhaling deeply and she shivered. He kissed along her throat. “One?”

He sank his teeth around one nipple and flicked the tip with his tongue. “Two?”

He jackknifed up and flipped her quickly onto her belly before she could protest, nipped the top of her spine, then worked his way down, alternating kisses and bites.

She was going mad. There was nothing more she wanted than him inside her. But no matter how much he was making her lose her mind, she still knew they couldn’t risk not using birth control. She was in her prime at thirty-three. And she guessed he was prolific, although she had no idea how old he was. He might be in his early thirties, too.

He grabbed both of her ass cheeks and squeezed, dipping his tongue into her cleft. So close to where he was determined to make his final destination.

“Three?” And then he licked her there. Just a teasing touch with the tip of his tongue. Once more. Then he was gone.

Sophie turned her head to watch him as he ripped open her nightstand drawer, digging. He made a noise at the back of his throat, then smiled wide. His eyes flicked to her, then back into the drawer.

Yeah, he found her stash.

He not only took out the tube of lube she had, but two of her vibrators, the larger one was latex, the smaller one plastic. He studied each one, turned them on, tested the strength of the vibrations against his palm, then shut them back off. He lifted his head to look at her again.

“This is gonna be even better than I thought,” he said, moving back to settle between her legs.

He kissed each cheek, then grabbed a mouthful of her flesh between his teeth and shook it gently with a growl. Just enough to get her juices flowing again. The tip of his finger stroked between her quivering cheeks, blazing a path down, down, down, pausing to gather some of her slickness before moving back up to where he started.

He did it again.

And again.

He was determined to drive her to the edge. And she would go with free will. That was for sure.

Something wet and warm touched her back there again, probed, teased, and she relaxed as much as she could. His tongue was replaced quickly with a roaming finger, doing the same thing.

When she heard a snap of the cap on the lube, she swallowed hard, her lips parting as her breathing shallowed. The cool gel was a shock against her heated skin, a total contrast to the warmth of his tongue and finger.

Then he was pushing gently, slowly. “That’s it, babe. Take me. Give this to me. Give me everything. All of you. Let me make this mine.” Her body melted into the bed at his murmurs, his whispers, his attempt at calming her spinning mind.

When she brought him upstairs, this was not what she had planned. But the sensations were nothing like she ever felt before. So unexpected. So crazy good. He slipped one knuckle deep, then two. Coaxing her gently, murmuring against her back as he did it.

“Don’t know if this is gonna work, babe. So tight. Might have to run out and—”

“No... Don’t go. Stay, keep going.”

“Fuck, babe. Fuck. You’re gonna be the death of me. Survived ten years in the joint to be released and die happy inside you. That’d be the way to go.”

Sophie smiled into her folded arms, but it quickly disappeared when he worked her faster.

Suddenly, he slipped from her and she felt empty.

He slapped her ass lightly. “Up. On your knees. Keep your pretty head down.” God, they needed condoms and he needed to fuck her… like now!

He had iron-clad control, because he didn’t fuck her, instead she heard the hum of a vibrator. Her small purple one; she recognized the sound easily.

“Gonna get you so that you’re beggin’ me, babe. No doubt.”

His tone didn’t sound so cocky now. The way his soft words slipped from his lips, they sounded caring. He wanted to make sure she was ready for him.

The pressure of the small vibrator against the tight rim of her ass made her clench, then as the pulsations radiated through her, she relaxed. Opened to him. Invited him to do whatever he intended.

He hooked an arm around her hips, reaching beneath her to press a thumb against her clit, circling, rubbing, and she opened up even more for him.

“That’s it, babe,” he murmured, the smooth, lubed vibrator sinking deeply, easily into her.

Her eyelids fluttered and eyes rolled back.

Holy hell, if she knew it felt like this, she would have done this a long time ago.

“You like that,” he said, his voice low, strained. He had to be suffering at this point, his erection thick against her thigh.

He began to fuck her with the dildo, while playing with her clit until she cried out, her body convulsing uncontrollably. But he didn’t stop, no, he continued until she lost her mind, desperate for him now. Dying for him to be inside her, to take her completely. And she didn’t care where. Somewhere. Anywhere.

Soon.

“Zak,” she groaned.

“Soon, babe,” he promised. “I can’t wait much longer, either.”

“Zak,” she called again, her voice breathless.

“Gotta make sure—”

“Zak,” she wailed, dragging his name out until she ran out of breath.

“Fuck,” he muttered.

“Oh, God, Zak.”

“Goddamn it,” he muttered some more.

“Oh, mother fuck.”

He released a hiss, slipped the vibrator from her, shut it off, then she heard the larger one.

Damn, she couldn’t take another one. She wanted him inside her instead. Not a toy. Him. Real. Hard. All male.

But he pressed the larger vibrator to her clit first, making her jump because it was now so sensitive. Then he slid it back and slipped it easily between her soaked folds. Her back arched as he seated it deep and held it still.

Her head rolled from side to side as she called his name again.

He cursed. And suddenly, he was there, the smooth slick head of his cock gliding against her, asking her permission to enter.

He pressed harder, struggling to get past the tight ring without hurting her. And it did hurt. Though, not enough to tell him to stop. She wanted him to hurry, become a part of her. Take her to the ends of the Earth and back.

Badass biker. Ex-con. Forbidden sex. A thrill ran through her. She gasped when he pushed further, farther, taking it home. Stretching her, filling her. Making her his.

Being the first, and maybe the only, to take her there.

With both the vibrations radiating from her core and him settled deep inside her ass, she bit her lip, her body, her mind spinning out of control.

She wanted him to move, but he didn’t. He remained still, quiet. But she could hear his breath, his deep, but rapid rasping. He started to speak, but his words dissipated into thin air. He tried again, but she couldn’t catch any of those words, either.

She found herself on another plane, another level. Honestly, she didn’t care what he had to say, only cared about what he was about to do.

And when he did it, she cried out. He was right, she would beg him. Beg him for more. Beg him to go faster. Beg him to go deeper.

“’Kay?”

Even when her lips parted to answer him, assure him she was all right, nothing came out. Nothing but a lost breath escaped.

He folded over her, gripped her hair and pulled her head back, arching her neck. His lips found her ear. “Can’t hold on, babe. I can’t. Sorry.”

It didn’t matter, her body decided she couldn’t, either. She tensed around his cock and the vibrator, both deep inside her, as the waves crashed through her, sweeping her under, dragging him along for the ride.

He barked out a curse and sank his teeth into her shoulder, tensing against her, pinning his hips to hers, his cock pulsating within her. His hot breath beat rapidly against the skin of her neck. When it started to slow, he lifted some of his weight off her. The vibrator slipped from her, the hum becoming silent.

She waited for him to pull out, but he didn’t. He stayed connected, grasping her hips tightly, then leaning over to brush a line of kisses down her spine.

Something she never expected a badass biker would do. Never expected him to be… tender.

“Give me a few, babe. Don’t wanna pull out until I’m softer.”

Caring.

Shit.

She needed him to be hard, uncaring, just worried about getting his rocks off. She needed him to make it easy to kick him out of her apartment, out of her life, once they were done. Not make her wonder what it would be like if he was a part of her life, hell, in her bed, on a regular basis.

Because that couldn’t happen. She didn’t need the complications of a man with not only a caveman mentality, but one who might scare away customers from her fledgling business. She didn’t need ties to a local motorcycle club and all the headaches that most likely went along with it. And who knows what type of illegal activities they were involved in.

She didn’t know much about the biker life, nor did she have any plans to find out.

He carefully slipped from her and rolled off the bed. “Where’s the can?”

“Can?”

“Room with the shitter, sink, and shower?”

Ah. The can. The bathroom.

She waved her arm toward the open bedroom door and slid onto her belly with a sigh. “Next door over.” She wiggled her hips, testing to see if there was any pain or discomfort.

A little.

She had a feeling she might feel it more in the morning.

“Don’t move.”

She turned her face on the pillow and watched as he walked his muscular, not tattooed, naked ass out of her room.

She wondered if he’d keep going, get dressed and walk out the door. It would be for the best. But then, he wouldn’t have given her a caveman order, would he have? No.

With such thin walls in the apartment, she heard the toilet flush, the sink running for a few moments, and him talking to himself.

She couldn’t quite make out what he was saying, but he was having a full-blown conversation and she doubted he had his cell phone with him. Definitely talking to himself.

She giggled, but cut it off quickly when he walked back into the room carrying a washcloth.

She raised her eyebrows at him when he stopped at the side of the bed, studying her. Then he climbed on and gently cleaned her up.

Gently. Cleaned. Her. Up.

He couldn’t do this to her. It was unfair. He was cheating. Though, what he was cheating at she didn’t want to know. She just knew her heart squeezed and then thumped as he took care of her.

Damn it.

Was he really a biker? Did bikers do these types of things?

Her eyes followed the damp washcloth as he threw it onto the floor.

Yeah. There it was. A good reminder he was a Neanderthal.

She sighed and rolled over between his legs so he straddled her thighs, looking down at her.

“Your tits are as sweet as your ass.”

Well, there it was. Another good reminder. So romantic.

“I’m glad you approve,” she returned, then propped two pillows under her head to let her gaze roam over his body. From hips to neck, the man was almost solid tattoos. The front covered in different sizes, different colors. The back, she noticed on his trip to the bathroom, was done in black and grays. And what was permanently inked into the skin of his broad, muscular back was a mirror of the patches that were sewn onto the back of the leather vest he wore.

“You must be loyal to your club to tattoo that whole thing on your back.”

He sucked in a deep breath and his chest expanded. The sense of pride was unmistakable.

“Loyalty is to the brotherhood. Family.”

“Brotherhood,” she repeated.

“Yeah.”

She wanted to ask about his real family, but that meant she’d become more invested in him. And she should avoid that. She had to steel her heart. She didn’t want sex to become intimacy.

That could—would—be trouble.

He dropped forward, grabbing both of her wrists and pinning them to the bed above her head.

She tugged slightly to see how tightly he held her. He didn’t release or let up even a bit.

“Next time, want your teeth in me.”

She frowned. “What does that mean?”

His eyes flashed, his expression hungry again. Like earlier. Like last night.

“Your teeth.” He curled his upper lip like a snarling dog before pressing his mouth to her shoulder. “In me.” He sank those straight, white teeth into her flesh.

Damn.

Every nerve ending suddenly came alive. Easy to understand why he wanted that. But…

“Got that part,” she struggled to get out. “I was wondering more about the ‘next time.’”

He licked the spot where he bit her, shrugged, then flopped onto his back next to her, his left arm folded above his head. “Next time.”

Clearly, he was mistaken that there would be a next time. No reason to point out how wrong he was.

Instead, she said, “You’re not big on conversation, apparently.”

“I converse.”

“Two word answers don’t make a conversation.”

He rolled onto his side, his head propped on one hand, the other traveling along her ribs. “Chicks need that shit. All that extra crap. No point in all that. Say what you mean.”

“Why not just grunt and pound your chest? Apparently, that used to work, too.”

“You need a bigger bed.”

Sophie shook her head at the change in subject. “It’s perfectly fine for me.”

“Tight for us.”

“There’s no us.”

“I like this.”

Holy shit, she was going to pry his damn mouth open and pull out complete sentences if it was the last thing she did.

“This?”

He waved a hand above the bed, above the two of them. “This.”

“You haven’t had sex in ten years, of course you’re going to like it.”

“That’s not it.”

“That’s all it is. Nothing more.”

“Nope.”

She wasn’t going to argue. Her eyes tipped toward the digital clock on her nightstand. It was creeping up on eleven o’clock.

She shifted and then groaned at the sudden soreness in her backside.

“You okay?”

“Fine.” She pushed herself up to her elbows, then up to a seat, trying to hide her wince. “I have to get some sleep. I need to get up early to get some baking done before the shop opens.”

He jerked his shoulders. “So sleep.”

“Zak.”

“Babe.”

“Zak, you have to go. This,” she circled her hand over them, “isn’t a thing.”

“It’s a thing.”

“You just got out of jail. You need to get back to living your life.”

“I’ll go back to that. Doesn’t mean you won’t be a part of it.”

She sighed and scrubbed a hand across her eyes. He wasn’t making any move to leave her bed.

“You gotta go,” she told him again.

“I’ll go in the morning.” He snagged her around the waist and pulled her to him, curving his chest to her back. “I’ll pick up some wraps for tomorrow night.”

“Tomorrow night?” she squeaked.

“Yeah, party at church, then we can head upstairs after or head back here. Your choice.”

That didn’t seem like much of a choice.

“Don’t wear anything too revealin’ to the party. No tits hangin’ out for everyone to see. They’re mine.”

They’re his? What bizarro world had she fallen into? All because she was desperate for money and made a freaking cake for a motorcycle gang… or club. Whatever! She should’ve gone with her gut and said no.

She had to admit, though, those couple hundred dollar bills stashed in her cash register downstairs would help immensely.

She tried to slide out of his arms and he snaked them tighter around her, nuzzling his nose in her hair.

“Okay. First of all… Hell, I don’t even know where to start.” She growled in frustration. “Okay, first, let’s get something straight. I’m not yours. My tits aren’t yours. I’m not going to any party with you. Especially at a church! And we’re not doing this again.”

“Pick you up at eight.”

She couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled up. She couldn’t help it. This whole thing was so absurd!

“Either you’re crazy or I’m crazy.” The laughter turned into a hiccup, then suddenly tears were sliding down her cheeks. She sniffled and wiped at them.

His arm loosened, and he rolled her onto her back. His eyebrows knitted together as he thumbed a tear from the corner of her eye. “Babe. Why are you cryin’?”

Why was she crying? It wasn’t obvious? Well, maybe it wasn’t. Maybe she had been giving him mixed signals. Maybe he needed some clarification.

She felt the hysteria rise from her chest into her voice. “Why? Because I don’t want you here. I don’t want you in my apartment. I don’t want you in my bed.”

He stilled then, his body got hard, tight.

“Got it. I’m not good enough.” He pushed himself up and put some space between them.

He rolled to his feet and stood up. He jerked a hand toward her. “I get it. You’re good. I’m not.” He tapped a finger to his temple. “Got it. Won’t forget it.”

It wasn’t—

Well, that might be a small part of it.

But that wasn’t all it was. “I don’t even know you. Minutes after first laying eyes on you, I’m not only in your bed but you’re in me. Not even twenty-four hours later, you’re in my ass!” She couldn’t control the shrill rise in her words.

“You liked it.”

She sat up abruptly, her eyebrows shooting to her hairline. “It’s not about liking it. It’s… It’s… Fuck!” She shouted, slamming her palm on the mattress, pissed she couldn’t put her mixed feelings into words, make him understand.

Bottom line was, how could she make him understand when she didn’t even understand it herself, couldn’t process the confusion that was the last twenty-four hours.

He dropped his hands to his hips and grinned. “You’re cute when you’re mad.”

She reached for one of the discarded vibrators and chucked it at him. Instead of thumping him in the head like she wanted it to, he ducked and it smacked the wall behind him with a thud. If she broke one of her favorite toys, she’d be even madder at him.

When he straightened, he shook his head, his smile now gone.

Good. Because she wasn’t finding this amusing and he shouldn’t either. “You can leave now.”

His nostrils flared and so did his eyes. Between gritted teeth, he said, “You got it, babe.”

With relief, and maybe a touch of surprise that he was finally actually listening to her, she watched him turn and head his too-fine nakedness out of her bedroom door, while he muttered, “Swear to Christ, you’re gonna be wearin’ my cut before you kill me.”

Her hands flew up in frustration at the unfamiliar language he used. “What does that mean?”

She needed a damn Biker to English dictionary.

The door slamming was her answer.

She pushed down the regret that fought to replace her short-lived relief.