What a night.

Listening to him in the ditch dry heaving was just the cherry on top of my crap sundae. I shook my head, wondering when he'd finally be done. I wondered even more why I didn't just take off, fleeing into the forest that flanked the little strip where we'd pulled over, and not stopping until I touched Mount Shasta looming in the distance.

My brain was still trying to process the evening. Too many bombs exploded in my head too close together.

I was cleaning, trying not to dwell on all the rough brutes all around me enjoying themselves. Then I had to stumble in on him with that blonde bitch's tongue down his throat.

Jealously shouldn't have thundered through my veins. And I definitely shouldn't have taken off running, crazed to get away from him while he pursued me.

Of course, it did, and no reason or wishing was going to make me feel any different.

I didn't want to hear his crap – especially when he didn't owe me any apologies whatsoever.

I couldn't want this man. He was a means to an end, a way to navigate this sector of hell and find my way out of the deep, deep pit daddy dug for Jackie and I.

I was hiding behind the bar, just waiting for him to come out of his stupor on the floor, when Serial attacked. He was so insistent, so fast, his eyes like a guard dog's before it lunges.

I tried to fight. I wanted to believe I could get him off me, get to safety by myself, but the man who threw me against the counter and pressed his nasty hand between my legs was too strong.

That was when I broke. I begged for Brass to wake up and help me. Prayed for it.

The problem with wishes and prayers is that sometimes you actually get what you want.

He fought for me like nobody ever had. When they piled onto him and forced him off the creep, I thought he'd break out like a bull and keep going, even if it meant his own destruction.

More than anything else, he'd put me above his own club, and after I'd treated him like total shit too.

Sure, I could try to ignore these raging uncertainties tearing through me. I'd tried to do that plenty when the liquid heat flowed through me every time I looked at him too long, studying the fierce dark ink scrawled on his hard skin.

But I couldn't ignore the fact that he'd done me right. He'd truly protected me, and not just for his own selfish reasons.

A man fighting for himself wouldn't fight like Brass did. He fought for me, and only me, putting himself against blades and blows without a care for himself.

Didn't that count for something? I shook my head, unwilling to accept the obvious answer in my screwed up brain.

I was still staring at the ground when he rounded the truck, banging on its metal side with one fist. “I'm done. Let's hit the road.”

“Are you sure about that?” I reached into the driver's side and grabbed the water he'd left behind, holding it out to him. “Here. Something to rinse away the taste.”

He popped the cap and chugged it. Stray water sprayed out the corners of his lips, rolling down his cut, saturating the t-shirt he had on underneath it. The droplets drew my eyes to his body, the muscles I owed a debt to that I tried so hard to forget.

Jesus, he was strong. It was one thing just to see it on him, but to know what those fists could do...

His knuckles were scratched, but his hands were still big, strong, and masculine. Untouched. Unbeaten. My thoughts went rampant, imagining what they'd feel like wrapped around my waist, or hooked around my back, sliding to my ass.

That's it, Missy. This is when you've officially lost your mind.

I couldn't argue with the voice in my head. But the day dreams on the other side wouldn't stop humming. I absentmindedly ran my tongue over my lips, wondering how he'd taste. How would those powerful slabs of meat on his bones twitch and jerk if I put my tongue to them? My lips? My teeth?

A cool breeze blew as he started to walk back to the passenger side and climbed in. It hit me right in the middle, near the waist, pushing against my jeans. I shuddered, realizing how wet these stupid, dangerous thoughts were making me.

I shouldn't have been falling for the good cop. No matter how hard he fought and tried to protect me, I had to remember that's what he was in the end. He was one of them, part of my prison. He was the smooth side of my cage, holding me in rough uncertainty.

And not just me, but Jackie too – the most unforgivable thing of all.

If it were just me...I might've done something really stupid. I might have thrown my hand on his, pulled him close, and kissed him while I thanked him for what he'd done.

But until my sister was free, I wasn't doing anything. These mad, mad fantasies couldn't run amok, couldn't make me do something that would only delay our freedom.

I forced my hands to the wheel and drove when he gave the signal. We didn't talk much on the ride towards Redding proper. When we were nearing the city limits, he turned to me and stared.

“What?” I said, flustered.

“You did good tonight, babe. Shit would've gone off without a hitch if Serial hadn't let his drunken dick get the better of him. I'll do whatever it takes to keep that asshole away from you in the future. No bullshit.”

“It was okay up until then,” I agreed. “I'm just glad it turned out okay in the end...I mean, assuming those guys aren't going to come after you.”

“They'll let it ride,” he growled. “Club's got too much on its plate to worry about a little dirty blood between brothers. Long as I can keep it under control on my end and not plant a dagger in that fucker's guts while he's taking a piss.”

My chest tightened. Was he serious?

The savage look of satisfaction on his face reminded me once again who and what I was dealing with. These men really killed, and I remembered how close to sudden death they'd brought Jackie and I on the night they came for the money. Brass saved us then too.

I stopped and wondered, new darkness creeping into my head. If he wasn't there...

You wouldn't be here to worry about it, I thought. It was truer than anything else rolling through my head all evening.

“Listen, that other shit earlier...” He bared his teeth.

I knew he was talking about the blonde. Jealousy seethed in my blood, unwelcome as it was surprising.

I waved my hand. “It's none of my business, Brass. It's your life. You're welcome to do whatever you want behind closed doors.”

Except this one was wide open. And, of course, I was lying right through my teeth. Thinking about him and the nasty girl with the golden pigtails made me want to claw things to shreds.

“No. You got more than your fill of all the shit the brothers do at these parties tonight. You didn't need to see it from me.” He swallowed. “I didn't want it. She tried to stick her pussy where it didn't belong. I've fucked her before, but that shit was in the past. We're done. Something's changed. Thinking about that pussy anymore just makes me sick.”

“You can do better. Seriously.”

I flushed as soon as the words were out of my mouth. Being rattled so many times in a couple hours killed the brain-to-mouth-filter.

Brass looked me up and down. Then he laughed, filling the truck with his deep baritone. I couldn't help but smile.

“I'm laughing because it's fucking true. Not just with chicks, I mean. Trying to do better's the story of my fucking life since I left Montana. Better's all I got.” He paused, as if considering his words. “Thing I hate most about change is how it warps your vision. Some of the shit I see with a clear head, I'd strike down in a heartbeat if I really had a choice.”

“The stuff going on with your club?” I asked.

He nodded. “Just when I think we've reached our limit, some new asshole has to make a ruckus, painting everything darker. More bitter. I don't know what's gonna come outta fucking around with the cartel, but I don't want any part of it. Not if it means my own brothers are gonna keep acting like fucking jackals.”

My hands tightened on the wheel. He wouldn't take his eyes off me, tracing my curves. That heat was back, shades of nervous excitement I couldn't quite define, let alone handle.

He was so hard, so intense. No, handling him didn't come natural, but damn if I didn't want to try. This man might be the death of me, a fatal attraction I was destined to follow into the fire. Whether I'd meet heaven or hell there was anyone's guess, and for the first time since all this went down, I was ready to start taking bets.

“You...you never should've been swept up in this shit. I don't care what your father did,” he said. “We should've taken the money and let you go. If it wasn't so fucking hard convincing guys to do the right thing anymore, we wouldn't be stuck playing pretend. Fuck, babe, if there was a way I could've saved you and your sis without ever using the words 'old lady...'”

He closed his eyes and didn't finish. I had to keep my eyes fixed on the road, refusing to look over. Hearing him regret claiming me as his hurt.

It defied common sense, but it did, and it shook me to the core too. I leaned in my seat and pushed on, following the narrow streets through Redding toward our apartment. There was nothing left to say. Breathing another word would've only upset somebody, and we'd had enough heartache for one night.

I pulled into a parking space and got out, waiting for him to follow. The whole way upstairs and down the hall, I hoped like hell Jackie would be asleep. When I got inside, one more prayer was answered, and I was left alone to pad off to my room, alone with my fears and forbidden desires.

* * *

I woke up sometime before dawn and ran to the bathroom. It was still dark. The water I'd downed before I went to sleep helped kill the hunger pangs nipping at my stomach. I was too upset to eat earlier, worried I'd wake up with my stomach twisted in knots as I slid through my nightmares.

Brass was snoring lightly on the couch, a thin blanket thrown across him, his cut and jeans hanging on the chair next to him. I looked at the coffee table and saw his wallet. There was something else too, thick and shiny, even in the pre-dawn darkness...

I crept up, quiet as a cat, reaching out when I was close. It was the skinny switchblade he'd wrestled away from Serial. My thumb brushed the handle, running over the small bear claw pressed into the handle, one more cruel mark left by the Grizzlies MC.

My finger gently moved along the edge and pushed a small button. The sharp blade jumped out, dangerous as ever in the darkness.

I looked up, studying him in the shadows. He was huge, and right now...completely at my mercy.

The old, frightened, vengeful Missy Thomas inside me stomped her feet, begging me to end this right now. If I killed him here, nobody would ever know. Jackie and I could take off with his vehicle, find our way to Mexico or something.

But the way he'd gotten underneath my skin – God!

Killing him was the last thing I wanted. How could I spill his blood when he'd already given his for me? For Jackie?

He'd sliced into my soul, sure, but he'd ripped his own open and bled ten times more. I wanted to take the easy way. I wanted to be free. But I also wanted him, alive and well, and so much more. Primal greed grabbed me by the throat and forced me to look at him, a rugged manly mirror for all my feverish desires.

I wanted him on top of me, hot and throbbing, slamming me into the floor while he worked between my legs. I wanted to smell our sweat mingle when he was deep inside me, claiming me for real, shattering the game of pretend we'd been playing with insatiable lust and twitching flesh.

Honestly, I'd already lost my mind. Now the only question was whether I'd walk into the madness losing him, or else losing myself on his flesh, losing my entire world on him as he filled me, stretched me, clawed at my flesh, and split my mind in two on his dick.

I couldn't kill him. No fucking way. This whole thing was crazy and I didn't know if there even was a way out alive anymore, but more bloodshed wasn't the answer.

I turned the knife over in my hand, holding it up. With a heavy sigh, I lowered it, trying to find some way to retract the blade.

I never heard him wake up, much less climb off the sofa. He crashed into me from behind, flattening my hand holding the blade. I jerked once and flipped over, surprised I hadn't screamed.

We were face to face. He was shirtless and magnificent, pure hellfire in his expression, dark tattoos running up and down his muscular chest. He'd landed between my legs – the last place in the world he should be, especially when I had nothing on underneath my long sleeping shirt except my panties and filthy desires blazing in my belly.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he growled, eyeing the blade in my hand.

It was still tilted up, sturdy, his hand pinning down my wrist. “I don't...I just saw it laying there and wanted to see what it was. I didn't mean to do anything, Brass. Honest.”

He stared deep into my eyes and shook his head. Finally, he threw his hand away, but not before pulling my wrist up, aiming the dagger at the tight packed muscles on his abdomen.

“Bullshit. I know a person mulling a kill when I see one.” His breaths came heavy, and he spoke slow, soft. “Fucking do it if this is what you want. Put me outta my goddamned misery and leave. Do it!”

My hand shook against his. I tried to release my fingers, drop the knife, get away from him, but he wouldn't let me. He pulled it closer, dragging the very tip of the killer blade to his chest, right above his heart.

“One more fucking push, and you're free. This is what you want, right, babe?”

“No!” I wasn't sure how I managed to keep my voice down without screaming in his face.

It came out sharp, hit him in the face. Brass' hand squeezed, bending my knuckles in, and then let go. The knife fell onto the carpet next to me. When I looked down to see it, I realized my whole body was shaking underneath him.

“Can't say I never gave you a chance, Missy,” he said, peeling back and hovering over me, his hands planted on the floor. “Wake me up when you know what you want.”

The smug tension in his voice struck deep, setting off a bomb inside me. Next thing I knew, I jerked up, threw my arms around his neck, and smashed my mouth on his.

Our lips touched like lightning criss-crossing the sky.

Brass' mouth was hard, unmoving for a single second, and then he parted his lips and grunted. His arms slid around me, pulling me up, smashing my breasts against his chest as he pushed my lips apart with his tongue.

God, he was hungry. I'd never been kissed like this. But then, no other man had kissed me after holding a knife to his heart before, baring everything, life and death and lust.

Brass growled, lowering me to the floor, reaching up to my long brown hair. He tangled several strands in one fist and ripped my head back, all the better to access my lips, shoving his tongue deeper into my mouth.

He licked the way I imagined he fucked. Rough, fast, and totally dominant. There was no playful tease in these kisses, no gentle build. His teeth nipped at my bottom lip, holding me open for his tongue. He found mine and led in a fiery dance, licking against my soft, wet tongue until I had to follow him, kissing him the way he wanted.

No mistake: I wanted it hard. I wanted to kiss and feel and fuck. I was done thinking.

It was the best alternative in the world to screaming and beating at his chest, crying like a broken fool on the floor. He saved me from all that – he saved me. Again.

All my blazing emotions shot to my heart, where they were ejected as pure lust, a powerful need to feel him all over me.

For once, Brass and I were on the same wavelength too. Our flesh sang in unison, tense and ready.

After a couple minutes on my lips, his free hand moved, starting at my knee and sliding straight up. His calloused hand kissed my thigh, on its way to the soaked black lace between my legs. He growled through his kiss as he shoved my gusset aside and rubbed two fingers up and down my slit, a short, rhythmic test before he pushed them inside me.

Fuck! Oh. My. God!

I grunted in his mouth as he worked through my folds. My pussy wrapped around his fingers and shifted each time he went a little deeper. His strokes were soft at first, but quickly grew faster and harder, dipping in and out in long jerks until his thumb pressed on my clit.

I broke the kiss, begging for air, feeling my lungs and everything below the waist turning to stone. Brass yanked on my hair and held me up to him as I sucked precious air, face-to-face. Lust incarnate looked back at me, pure desire formed from all the hate and want between us, finally set free.

“Do I need to stuff my hand in your mouth when you come?” He pushed his face closer, dragging rough stubble across my cheek. My thighs rippled together, locked around his hand, bucking for relief.

I realized he was talking about Jackie, asleep down the hall. Damn!

“No...I can't let her hear...I think I can keep it –“

Together? No fucking way. A voice deep in my head laughed.

“Oh!” My lips formed a perfect circle and my vision blurred.

I gasped, sweated, pinched my thighs tight around his palm. Jesus, I needed him, needed him to finish kindling the fire he'd ignited in my core.

Brass' hand went mad, moving like clockwork through my folds, or maybe like a clockmaker who knew exactly how to wind my pussy up until I shattered. It felt so fucking good, but I couldn't scream. I'd never forgive myself if Jackie woke up and came in here to find us like this.

I had to keep it down. I had to stop myself from –

Brass made sure I'd be screaming in his hand, and nowhere else. He moved it out of my hair and covered my mouth as his face moved down. He caught the edge of my shirt and tugged it up with his teeth, stopping the hypnotic circles between my legs just long enough to rip my panties down.

When I realized the only place he was going was down, I started to pant. Rough stubble and hard, sucking kisses danced along my cleavage, then rode my stomach, drawing me against his mouth.

His face pushed between my legs and took over where his hand left off. My body jerked against his, grinding into his hot hand. I thought his fingers were good, but his tongue – Christ! – I was finished.

Hot, long, godly licks steamed through my folds. He tongued my wetness eagerly, like my cream was the booze the men sucked constantly at the clubhouse, trailing his licks up to my clit. When he found it, my whole pussy sizzled on his face, ready to come apart.

Muscles tensed up and convulsed, small bundles across my body I didn't even know I had. He must've known I was about to burst because he shoved the edge of his hand into my mouth, forcing me to bite him.

I did. But it wasn't enough. I barely had time to beat my hands on his shoulders before the insistent, tight fireball in my womb exploded. My thighs locked around his head and I came, groaning against his palm, losing total control.

My eyes rolled back, lost in black and white and red. I never came so hard, flailing against him as he held me down, never stopping the wild, rhythmic tongue laps on my clit. He completely smothered it as I rode his face, my pussy convulsing around him, like he was breathing lightning through my nerves with every insatiable lick.

I came. I climaxed the pain and hurt of the last few weeks, the insanity of doing it with him, giving myself over to desires that were sick and taboo on a good day. Having him between my legs was so damned wrong, but my body told me it was right.

There was no doubting it. The saner, rational bitch I became to keep myself safe would've jumped through the roof in horror, but pleasure didn't lie. And pleasure won out in the end, overpowering my regrets, my fears, my doubts.

His tongue fucked me until I couldn't even breathe, buried beneath a couple hundred pounds of huge, hard, tattooed muscle. I barely had time to worry about whether or not his hand stifled the carnal pleas ripping up my throat.

When I looked up, he was hovering over me, the two fingers he'd had inside me near his lips. The fire in his emerald eyes doubled when he stuck them in his mouth, giving them a good, long suck before wiping his chin.

“You taste even fucking better than I imagined. I'd give up whiskey for that sweet little cunt.”

I laughed, slapping his shoulders again. Okay, now I knew he'd lost his mind. But Brass acted perfectly sane and determined as he brought his hands to his boxers. My eyes followed, and I noticed the monstrous hard-on straining there, looking like it would punch through the thin fabric any second.

Horny curiosity tingled through me. I swept one hand down below his belly, reaching for his dick. I found it, and squeezed, hissing through my teeth.

God, he was big. Hard. Ready to fuck me through the floor, just like I wanted.

Brass wrapped his hand over mine and gripped, making me squeeze him harder. “That's what you want, babe? Okay. I would've taken a switchblade in the guts for you. But I sure like satisfying this fucking need a whole lot more...”

I pursed my lips, trying not to drool all over the floor. My pussy wouldn't stop melting as I felt his ridge, running my fingers over it, sensing his pulse in my fingertips.

“Do it.” It was my turn to whisper those words.

Brass didn't need any reminders. He hooked his fingers to his boxers and jerked them down. They fell with a snap and he rolled, wriggling out of them, grabbing his jeans off the chair.

My heart did a flip when I saw the small metallic package in his hand. He looked at me, winked, and threw it at me.

“You know how to do this, right? Put it on. I won't pass up any excuse to get your hands on my dick again.”

I'd never rolled a condom on a man, but it wasn't like I was going to say no. I eyed the light coming through the blinds nervously, hoping Jackie stayed up late so she'd sleep in. Good thing teenagers were out like the dead most mornings.

I quickly tore the foil, trying not to make too much noise. The latex popped softly in my fingers, and I moved it to him, gnawing my bottom lip when I brought it to his swollen head. Brass grunted, satisfied, watching with new flames in his eyes while I pushed it down his length.

There was something extra sensual about that – almost as good as sinking down on his bare, hard cock. Almost. But of course feeling him skin-to-skin would've been even better.

For now, this would have to do. And when he shifted up, fisting my hair, planting himself between my legs, I knew it'd do very nicely.

He kissed me deep, rubbing his length up and down my wet slit, nestling his cock in my folds. I squirmed, wishing he'd just fuck me already. Not that I wasn't enjoying the foreplay, but the fire inside me needed to be fed, needed to be filled.

“Fuck, baby girl. You know I wanted this pussy the minute I saw you? This pussy, the one I was glad to claim, the one I wanted for real...nobody else's. When I take this beautiful cunt, it's going on a long, hard ride, and it's never coming back. This. Is. Mine. Mine!”

That word was like magic. Black, crazy, alien magic, making me tingle all over. The way he rubbed his erection up and down my slit while he whispered his filthy promises in my ear had a lot to do with its power too.

Brass rose up, tilting his hips, ready to sink inside me. I caught one glimpse of the raging bear tattooed to his chest, symbol of the Grizzlies MC, right before he thrust. His cock penetrated deep, opening me, unstopping until his balls rested against my ass.

I was so full, so fast, I started to shake. There was no slowing down, though. Not when he wanted to fuck me this bad, claim me for real. Thrust by thrust, he told me what he wanted to do: twist the crappy lie we'd lived into truth with flesh, sweat, and ecstasy.

Was it possible?

My body didn't say no. His strokes came harder, faster, making my body ripple. He fucked with purpose, taking as much pleasure as he gave. The big, inked claws tattooed on his arms rippled around me, dancing like black flames.

I threw my legs around his waist and locked onto his neck with my hands, all the better to ride out the storm, the tempest we both needed to thrash all the shit we'd suffered to pieces. I felt like I was floating after a minute of taking his dick, but it was just my own hips flying up, desperate to meet his thrusts.

Everything below my waist turned warm and tight, smoky and electric. Soon, I'd be coming again, harder than when he licked me to finish.

As soon as I started to claw at his shoulders, he held one hand to my mouth. My eyes went wide, rolling a little as he pounded his hips to mine, pressing his cock to my limits.

“Don't scream. Let it out in my fucking hand, babe. You sing like a whore with little sis in the other room and we'll never be able to finish.” Suddenly, he smiled, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Maybe I ought to finish this faster for both of us? Or do you wanna fuck good and slow, risk everything combusting on my dick?”

I shuddered. Whatever way he fucked me, I was going to come soon, and I moaned into his hand.

It was all he needed. His thrusts slowed, but the pressure increased. He slid back gradually before he threw his hips into mine, hammering me apart, breaking me open for him.

My clit hummed when he dragged his pubic bone against me. Short, trim hair gave its delicious friction, maddening as it was pleasurable.

I couldn't take it anymore. I smashed my lips straight into his hand and grunted, pushing warm air through my teeth.

He threw the switch. Feeling me tighten up and convulse on his cock turned him into the fuck machine he'd promised. Brass filled my pussy again and again, quicker, shallower strokes, kindling a wicked fire beneath my waist.

I let go, falling so fast and hard I could feel my brain coming out my ears. My hips smashed desperately at his, bucking and writhing, begging for his climax. Brass joined me halfway through the fire licking its way up my whole body, drowning me in its glorious wave.

He grunted, threw his hips forward, and held them there, cock pressed snug against my womb. I felt him swell, even through the condom, and then the heat in his skin became an inferno. His head snapped back and he clenched his teeth, snorting, struggling not to growl or curse so loud it shook the whole building.

If the sex wasn't so amazing, it would've been a total pain holding in our pleasure. Instead, sheer ecstasy muted us, shuddering through our bodies harder in spastic waves, locked together as his cock jerked deep inside me.

He spilled everything. I saw my sweet surrender mirrored in him, the venom leaving his body as he lost his come in the condom, deep inside my pussy.

It felt like we were locked together for an hour before he finally pulled out. His hand shook as he held the condom to his skin, a satisfied growl leaving his lips.

“Fuck, babe. That was the hottest fuck I've had since –“

He stopped talking and my ears perked up. The only thing that could've ruined the bliss was the creak I heard deep in the apartment.

Jackie!

“Come on!” He grabbed me by the wrist and lifted me up, running for the bathroom as he grabbed half our clothes.

Shit. The door clapped shut. I had my back pressed to the wood, trying not to look too hard at his gorgeous, naked body in front of me. Jackie's soft footsteps moved past us and then stopped when she got into the living room.

I didn't see my bra, or the oversized shirt I'd been wearing...Brass' cut was still somewhere on the floor too.

If my sister saw that mess of clothes out there, we couldn't hide it. She'd have no doubt about the dirty, dirty deed that went down on the floor just a few minutes ago, the wild animal lay I hadn't fully processed myself.

“Brass!” I whispered, hoarse and scared. Panic shot through my eyes.

“It's okay, babe.” He gave me a serious look, sliding on his jeans, shirtless and shining with sweat and dark ink. “Let me handle this shit.”

I stood there like an idiot as he flung open the door and stepped out. I grabbed the handle, wanting to scream after him, but he strode out as confidently as if he'd just showered.

Watching through the crack in the door, I saw Jackie jump, and turn to face the huge biker standing a couple feet away. Her mouth fell open, and so did mine.

“What'll it be today, darling?” Brass said, his arms folded. “Pancakes, or French toast?”

Jackie looked like she was about to blow up in tears. Oh, God. My heart tightened up and I clutched at my chest with one hand. My nipples were still soft and full from fucking him.

Damn! Why couldn't we have had one more second to grab the rest of our clothes so I wouldn't have to run out there buck naked? And wouldn't doing that make things worse?

My legs felt like they were stuck in concrete. Then the silence broke. Jackie opened her mouth and doubled over. Next thing I knew, she was laughing.

High, shrill, girlish giggles I hadn't heard since sometime before dad got really bad. Brass caught her before she fell onto our crumpled clothes, holding her hand and helping her into the recliner. While he was down there, he scooped up the rest of our things, giving her a minute before he stood back up.

“What's so damned funny?”

Jackie took one look at him and burst into laughter all over again. “It's...nothing. You're cool, is all. I think I want the toast.”

“Coming right up, soon as I help your sis get dressed.” He smiled and padded past her, returning to me.

Jackie spun the chair around to face us. I was still looking at the sassy red sheen on her face before Brass stepped inside and slammed the door behind us, but not before she caught my eyes. I jerked my head away, blushing like I hadn't blushed since...crap, since I was probably her age.

“What...what the hell was that?” I asked, shaking my head.

“A wink and a nod. Don't ask, don't tell. Owning the shit that just happened between you and me without sitting your little sis down on the couch and talking about the birds and the bees. Me and my own sis did this kinda shit when we had dates in the house under Ma's nose. Well, me way more than her...if she'd fucked more guys, maybe she wouldn't have ended up with that Prairie Pussy, Blaze...”

He stepped past me, kicking off his jeans, and reached for the shower handle. I was too stunned to ask what the hell he was talking about with his own family business.

“That's crazy!” I gasped. “She's fourteen, Brass. She knows what we were doing...”

“Exactly.” He turned to me and winked. “And she didn't seem real upset by it neither, did she? Best way to deal with it is being open and honest. She doesn't need any dark and dirty details. We'll keep that between us, babe.”

He reached behind my back and pulled me in, one hand moving to my ass. Before I could even curse, he had the panties off I'd just thrown on, pushing me against his chest.

I'd never seen his eyes so bright and mischievous. If it wasn't for the fact Jackie almost stumbled in on us fucking, I would've loved it.

My hands beat his grizzly bear tattoos and I tried to wriggle away. Brass laughed, pulling me closer, pressing his lips to mine.

The shower hissed and filled the bathroom with steam while we kissed. One fast, furious taste and I knew I was in too deep...all the horror and disgust in the world couldn't have stopped my pussy from tingling as he worked his tongue against mine.

Holy shit. So much for shame.

“What are you doing?” I shook my head, breaking the kiss. I shouldn't have bothered asking, because one more squeeze of my ass told me.

“What does it look like? Cleaning up and fucking your brains out before we eat breakfast,” Brass said, bringing one hand to my breast, tweaking my bright pink nipple.

I shuddered. My body was completely shameless, and it was quickly overpowering my head.

Oh, shit! This can't be seriously happening, can it?

He looked down at my panties wadded up near my feet.

“I'll stuff those in your mouth if you're worried about sis hearing more than she needs to over the shower, but it's plenty loud with this shit going. Come on.”

He brushed the curtain aside and stepped in, pulling me with him. His hands worked fast, picking up where they'd left off, plumping one breast while the other slid between my thighs. He found my clit and worked his fingers, tender trending rough, strokes so filled with need I couldn't have dreamed about saying no.

“Just so you know, this is the last time we're fucking all secret squirrel, babe. Next time, I'm gonna drag your pretty ass somewhere we can fuck good and proper. I wanna hear everything that comes outta your mouth when you come on my cock.”

I opened my mouth to answer, but nothing would come out. I barely stopped the moan building in my throat in time, knees shaking, folding my palms tight against the wall. It felt so good having his fingers moving through my folds, swirling against my clit, all while the steady hum of hot water beat against our backs.

My head started to roll back and forth, struggling to hold it all in. Brass slowed the circles around my clit, holding me in suspense. Bastard tease!

Just as I tried to turn, he grabbed my wrists and held me tight, throwing my palms back to the wall.

“Don't. That was just a warm up. No fucking way are you coming on my hands and mouth twice in one morning, Missy. This dick's not halfway done with its workout.”

I heard something crinkle up and fall to the floor. He'd snuck a condom out of his pants sometime when I was lost in pure bliss on his fingers. Heat bloomed in my womb and shot up my spine when he rubbed against my ass, hard and sheathed, ready to fuck like never before.

His hand slipped away and found its way over my mouth. I could smell my own scent on him, a wetness against my lips thicker than water.

“Bite this shit when you need to. Taste your cream on my fingers. It's hot as fuck that I did this to you, babe, and now I'm gonna do a whole lot more.”

He pushed inside me, and my knees went full jackhammer. His cock slid up more easily this time, probably because I'd never been so wet in my entire life. I sucked my bottom lip and chewed, resisting the urge to bite his hand like he'd invited me to.

I'd need to save that for later. But not much longer – when he started to thrust, I knew I wasn't going to last long.

Fresh lava swelled inside my head, bathing me in creeping pleasure, like someone kindled a fire near my brain stem. My ass lifted up and fell against him, rocking to meet his thrusts, following his lead as he picked up speed.

My lips formed an O against his skin. Brass pounded deeper, harder, faster. My back arched and the firestorm in my belly pinched everything tighter, a vortex that wouldn't let go until every muscle in my body turned to stone.

His hand clamped over my mouth a second before I screamed, pushing it back inside me. The suffocating fire ripping through me made me lose my mind. I couldn't think about the pain or serving the club or what Jackie would think anymore.

All I could think about was how fucking good his dick felt buried in me, swelling as he let go and joined me in ecstasy.

“Fuck! Fuck! Don't. Fucking. Stop.” His last words gurgled out before he let go, filling the condom deep inside me, making shallower strokes with his throbbing cock, losing his load.

He fucked right through my pleasure. His balls pulsed against my pussy, hurling seed, stretching our pleasure to its rabid breaking point.

I sweated, clawed, and rasped into his hand all through my climax.

When it finally let up, I slumped down, wriggling my ass against him to milk the last energy out of him. His big chest rose and fell in waves. He cursed as he pulled out, drawing off the condom and shoving aside the shower curtain to toss it toward the waste bin.

I heard it hit the trash next to the toilet. Perfect shot.

“Fuck, baby girl. I'm never gonna get tired of this. I wanna keep fucking you 'til I can't even think. You understand?” He held one hand around my waist and slowly turned me around.

My lips trembled. “Yeah. I think I do.”

“Think? Shit, that means I've still got work to do. By the end of the week, I promise I'm gonna find some way to get us both outta this shit for good. I'm done letting anything come between me and this pussy.”

I cocked my head, stepping into his warm embrace, listening to the steady slap of the water on our skin. The steamy cloud filling the bathroom was like a second embrace layered over us, a welcome dreamy haze in the post-orgasmic bliss.

“You really think your club's going to trust us? Let me off the hook that fast?”

His face darkened. He leaned in, resting his forehead against mine.

“No.” Brass paused, as if he was mulling his words. “I've been wrong about most of my brothers for so long. Everybody except Rabid, Blackjack, maybe a couple other guys...they're all fucked. Fucked up and sick. And it's only gonna get worse.”

I shook my head, trying to understand. What was he saying?

“Babe, I'm gonna take you somewhere far away. You and Jackie both. Somewhere you can be safe and live your lives without worrying about a buncha assholes pushing the knife into your throats.”

I shuddered. The crude imagery wasn't just an exaggeration. Then I thought about his words, reading between the lines. My heart skipped a beat when I saw it laid out in front of me.

Holy shit.

“You mean you're going to –“

“Leave? Yeah. If that's what it takes to protect you, so be it. We'll head north, all the way through Oregon and Washington. Maybe find some place way up near Canada where nobody's gotta worry about MCs or cartels tearing each other to bloody pieces.”

“Brass...” My voice hitched. I started to slide down, but he caught me, laying my cheek on his chest.

“Shhh,” he whispered, running his fingers softly through my wet hair. “All we gotta do's go through the motions 'til I figure shit out. One week. That's all it's gonna take to get shit in order and go. I just need to work the logistics and tell a couple guys I can trust what's up. I can't come right away, though. Got some unfinished business with the club, and if I take off permanently, I'd like to leave on good terms.”

“Won't they make things worse for all of us when they find out what you're planning?”

“I don't give a shit,” he growled. “You're my old lady and I can do whatever the fuck I want with you. If nobody understands that – if I don't have a single fucking brother sticking up for me – then I'll know everything my club represents is a goddamned sham.”

He turned, holding my hand, twisting the shower faucet until the steady warm rain stopped. I pulled away, folding my arms over my breasts in the steam, wiping my eyes.

His arm swept the shower curtain aside. He looked at our clothes strewn over the floor, his gaze zeroing in on his cut. I watched his magnificent hard ass as he stepped out, pulling his cut off the ground and letting it fall open in his hands.

“I gave my life and cost some other people theirs trying to do right by this patch.” A sad tone darkened his voice. “Maybe one day, I'll be able to. Maybe after the cartel's done thinning out the trash. But not while this club's controlled by a buncha greedy fucking maniacs who think it's okay to kill, rape, and burn the whole world for no good reason.”

The leather vest dropped and hit the floor. He turned toward me, naked in the steam, eyes shining brighter than I'd ever seen them.

“Don't worry. I'm not going back on anything I said while I was wearing these colors, proud and stupid. I'm still a full patch member in the Grizzlies MC. I vote, I fight for the honest brothers, and everything I've said and done since wearing this patch belongs to me.” He stepped forward, helping me over the tub's edge to the tile floor. “You're my old lady, babe, come heaven or hell. I don't need any fucking club behind me to back that up. Long as you're willing to have me, I'm gonna have you...every way that's beautiful and dirty and fucking sweet. You and me, Missy. Just us against the whole fucking world, if that's the way it's gotta be.”

He took my hand. In the last two hours, everything went crazy. The man I'd thought about killing was staring at me like I was an angel. If it wasn't for the warmth filling my heart, the guilt there would've caused it to sink like a lead weight.

I swallowed the thick lump in my throat and mustered my most serious stare. “I'm ready, Brass. I want you to set things right...and I'm ready to run away if it means we can finally be together, start over, keep my sister safe...”

He tugged me closer, one strong arm around me, pushing a sturdy finger to my lips. “Stop. There's no fucking ifs in what we're gonna do. You, girl, are coming with me no matter what's up ahead. You're mine, dammit, and once I lay claim, I don't let go. Not for the club. Not for the cartel. Not for my own fucking mistakes. Not even for the awesome fucking French toast I'm gonna make when we get outta here.”

It took me a minute to figure out that last part. Then I remembered Jackie was still outside in the living room, waiting for us and the breakfast he'd promised. Smiling like an idiot, I punched him in the side.

“Jerk. We'll judge how awesome this stuff's going to be.”

He grinned. “Dry your hair and get dressed. You'll find out.”

* * *

We were stuffed around the little breakfast table about thirty minutes later. The entire apartment smelled like warm bread, cinnamon, and syrup, sweet as it was comforting.

Jackie dove into hers with a teenager's appetite, eyeing the big stack of breakfast on the serving plate. He served up eggs to go with the toast and a pitcher of coffee. It looked as good as it smelled.

Brass didn't touch his food. He sat across from me, his Grizzlies MC t-shirt clinging to his chest, waiting for me to have a bite.

I dipped my toast in syrup and brought it to my lips. One crunch, and I was in pure heaven. I think I moaned – dangerously close to the sound I'd made in the shower, when he pushed me over the edge.

“Fuck yeah,” he said, reaching for his own bread. “Told you it was good.”

Jackie looked at us both, covering her mouth. I rolled my eyes when I finally came out of my sugary high. Whatever, she had every reason to giggle, and it was good to hear her laugh versus all the alternatives weighing on us the last few weeks.

Soon, we'd be heading out for the day while my Christa showed up for lessons. I'd be stuck cleaning up more of the mess from the night before, hoping to god that freak with the barbed wire on his face kept his distance.

One more week. I told myself I could do it. With a few more mornings like this, maybe I could. And maybe – just maybe – being his old lady wasn't half bad.