Find. Someone. Who. Will. 

“Over my dead body,” he growled, grabbing a handful of the dark curls at the nape of her neck and lowering his lips until they just brushed hers. “You want to play. You got it. But you’re playing with me, no one else. And what I take, I keep. You got me?” 

She blinked. A flash of insecurity darted through her eyes so fast if he hadn’t been watching her closely, he would’ve missed it. “You don't know what you're talking about. A night of fun is one thing. No need to involve turning things into some kind of happily never after. I'm not after any commitment,” she said in an almost inaudible husky whisper. “I want a good time. So what say you teach me if the save a bike and ride a biker thing is worth trying.” 

She fit perfectly in his arms, curves pressed up against the hard planes of his body, her breasts mashed against his chest, and damned if he could think of more than parting those luscious thighs and getting himself balls deep inside her. And if she kept talking, that was going to happen on a table in full view of the entire bar. 

“I’ll teach you everything you need to know about riding, Princess.” He teased a kiss against her lips, the caress so brief she didn’t register it until he’d lifted his head. She pouted a soft, sexy sound of frustration in the back of her throat. “But don’t knock back the happily never after until you’ve had me. I guarantee you’ll be back for more.” 

“Sometimes we don't have that choice.” She glanced away for a second before meeting his stare. Her gaze slipped down to his lips. “I don't need lessons riding, but you might need lessons walking again when all is said and done.” She pushed closer and brushed her mouth over his, catching him off guard by nipping his bottom lip before quickly leaning back. “I don't want promises. I want tonight.” She cleared her throat. “One night.” 

Her quick move surprised him, the little nip shooting a line of fire right down to his cock. He growled and tightened his grip in her hair. He nodded. “One night.” For now. 

He eased his fingers open, one by one, his instincts fighting him all the way, and then took her hand and turned, only to find himself eye to eye with Scales. The big dragon blocked the path, eyes maxed out and lust rolling from his skin as he tried to peer around Razor at the woman behind him. 

“Seems she walked in of her own volition. Ain’t fair for you to keep the good stuff to yerself,” he grunted. “We takin’ her out back, show her how to please a coupla’ devils?” 

Fuck. This was so not what Razor needed. 

Scales had been a pain in the ass recently, up in his and Cuff’s—the club VP—face all the time. It was a situation Razor knew he had to deal with, but not one he wanted to have to sort out right now. And certainly not with Scales. No one wanted the dragon riled up and ready to go, not without a target to point him at. 

The best form of defense was a good offense. 

Dumping the controls between himself and his beast, he called power to flood his body and crowd under his skin. Without checking in the mirror behind the bar, he knew his eyes had changed, bright blue swallowing their normal silver. There were many questions the club had asked about them, and about his past. None of which he was inclined to answer, especially not here and now. Not with a woman from a different world behind him looking for some fun. 

A whisper went around the bar as all attention fell on the two men. Razor was an anomaly when it came to shifters and fighting. He never fought with the power of his beast backing him. Ever. The baddest of bad-asses amongst the Devils, he’d never needed to, so the fact he was maxed out now didn’t escape notice. 

“Back the fuck off, Scales,” he growled, his voice lower and deeper than human. “This one’s mine, and that’s how it’s stayin’. You got a problem with that?” 

Scales blinked, glancing between Razor and the woman peering around his arm. Razor yanked her back behind him, ready to shove her toward Cuffs should Scales lose it. If he did, then the shit was going to hit the fan in a big way, and the club would have to fork out to get the bar refit. Again. 

The dragon’s attitude folded in on itself, and the amber receded from his eyes to reveal their normal, hazel color. He grinned, further reinforcing the fact that he was one nugget short of a happy meal, even for a crazy-ass dragon. 

“Nah, no problem.” He backed off, his hands up in surrender as he cleared the path to the back of the bar. “Didn’t know you had it in ya, Prez. Glad to see you do.” 

“Yeah…” Razor stepped forward and pulled his princess with him. He didn’t take his eyes off the dragon, just in case, until he had her in front of him. Then and only then, did he turn his back, showing the entire club that he didn’t fear anyone or anything. Not even a gnarly pain in the ass dragon. 

“Keep walking, Princess,” he ordered in a low voice, releasing the power under his skin and letting it flow away. His gaze dropped to her curvy ass and the sexy sway of her hips. His lips curved as a different type of heat replaced the buzz of the change in his veins. “Through the door, turn left, and up the stairs.” 

* * *

Don’t jump him. Don’t jump him. Christ, he smelled good. His scent—pure male mixed with animal—woke even the tiniest of her hormones and propelled her to move. Where the hell was the damn room? It felt like forever before she finally reached a plain, wooden door at the end of the hall and pushed it open. The door swung in with a soft swoosh. The heat from his body enveloped her in a cloud of need. He was so close, and all she could think of was getting him naked as soon as possible. A knot formed in the back of her throat. 

Stepping over that threshold meant she wouldn’t back out now. Not that she could. But this was real. Her brand-new hopes for a night of wild sex were about to come true. Tomorrow, she’d deal with Chip and her father. 

She had to curl her fingers into her palms so she wouldn’t fling herself at the big sexy biker at her back like some desperate nympho. 

For a moment, there was silence behind her. He was either building anticipation or waiting to see if she’d back out. She paused to check out the room ahead. Silently, she took a handful of steps and stopped at the center of the room, still not facing the door.  

Though she wanted to turn, face him, run over and rub her face on his chest, she chose to continue examining his quarters. There wasn’t a speck of dust anywhere. The dresser had nothing on it. Not a single decorative accent. Not even a photo. The question on whether or not he had family slipped by her mind, and she quickly dismissed it. Too personal. And it was…clean. She frowned. It was really clean. Cleaner than her room. Hell, probably cleaner than her entire house. And they had maids. 

“The guy downstairs, he called you Prez. Is that your name? I mean, is that what you prefer to be called?” 

“Nope. It’s more a title. Most call me Razor.” His voice sounded from the doorway, and her imagination filled in him leaning there, his arms crossed over that sexy, broad chest. He didn’t elaborate further. 

The double-bed took up most of the room, covered in pristine blue sheets without as much as a wrinkle. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear he ironed the sheets. What kind of biker did that? She eyed the bed. It was big and nice. 

How many women he’d taken to that bed? A slight throbbing took hold of her chest and grew wings. What the fuck was wrong with her? She wanted this. Him. The last thing she needed was to start getting attached to the man. Asking questions she might not like the answers to. At any other time, she would have loved to see how long a relationship with him would’ve lasted. Things weren’t that simple any more. Her life was no longer hers. 

“This room is nice. Really…clean.” 

“Seems to surprise you.” 

“Most men aren’t known for being tidy.” 

Scuffling sounded from the door, then the sounds morphed into footsteps, and he finally entered the room. A swoosh was the only indicator he’d shut the door, the lock softly clicking into place. She was alone with him. In his bedroom. 

Harsh breaths pounded in her chest. Excitement buzzed in her veins in a drugging high. 

Her mind begged her to turn. When she did, she wasn’t disappointed. She’d never wanted to knock a man out and drag his ass home to tie him to her bed as badly as she did at that moment. It was laughable. He was easily twice her size. Even with her curves, he had a lot of muscles and height on her. Damn, but she would so enjoy licking him from head to toe. She’d probably never grow bored. 

Worn, black leather covered his legs. The pants weren’t tight, but she could see he was hard. Big and hard. All for her. A slow sizzle floated over her skin. Her muscles ached from squeezing her thighs together. Tearing her gaze from his cock, she glanced up to his vest—also leather, but not the pretty kind Chip would wear. Not the latest brand with a designer label stitched to the cuff. This was rugged, filled with patches that must mean something in his group. 

Her gaze rose to his face. He was nothing like Chip. His hair was long around his shoulders, and he had a look so deep she swore he was peeking into her soul. Chip wouldn’t let his hair grow more than his usual three point five inches before he got a haircut. Definitely not like Chip. Then there was that mouth. Dear Lord of orgasms, she hoped that mouth was as good at other things as it was at growling. This man turned her on without doing more than gazing at her from a mere seven feet away. 

It was now or never. If Gigi found her, Evva would be in deep shit. She’d lose her one chance with Razor, return to her home to marry Chip, and forget all about independence. She’d probably never see Razor again. Already the daughter of a powerful alpha, once the packs united she’d be slapped with some guards and never be left alone again. It sucked big time, but it was what was coming for her. So she did what she knew best. She poked the wolf with a stick, and hoped he’d come back growling. 

She propped her hand on one hip and grinned, staring pointedly at his crotch. “So what’s a girl got to do around here to get you naked?” 

He crossed the distance between them, long legs not needing more than a few steps until he was toe to toe with her. The heat of his skin beat at her, helped by so much of his chest exposed under the sleeveless vest he wore. Crawled over her skin like a siren’s caress, and made her want to get closer. So close she didn’t know where he ended and she began. 

His gaze held hers, the silver direct and piercing, as though he could see down into her soul. Could see all her deepest, darkest secrets…the thoughts and feelings she dare not admit to. His eyes darkened, heat flaring in the silver, the expression on his face nearly bringing her to her knees with need. 

Reaching out a hand, he snagged her around the waist. “Princess, you only have to ask.” His fingers spread out over the back of her hips and drew her to him, fit her snuggly up against him. 

Her lips parted on a gasp as she felt his cock, thick and long, pressing against her belly. Her hands smoothed up his chest, dipping under the leather of his vest to reach his shoulders. He rolled them to help her, the leather vest falling from shoulders the size of a small barn to catch on his biceps. 

It took her all of a nanosecond to realize she was in charge. Her gaze darted from his chest up to his eyes. Drawing on her instinct to seduce, she leaned forward. In a soft whisper of a kiss, she fluttered her lips over his chest, his muscles contracting at the light touch. 

“I was right.” She couldn't help the need to taste him. 

“Right?” 

She grinned inwardly at the roughness in his voice. “I can lick you from head to toe and not grow bored.” She licked his nipple. 

He jerked, a curse dropping from his lips that fell away into a growl of pleasure. The leather slithered down his arms, dropping to the floor unheeded. She smiled and did it again, adding a nip for good measure. That got his hand driving into the hair at the back of her neck, and he yanked her head back. The blue was back in his eyes, and she smothered a whimper at the evidence he was near the edge of his control. 

“No.” His growl was deeper, not totally human. “We do this my way.” 

Her heartbeat tripped in her chest. She'd never been so turned on by a man taking charge. She didn't just like it, which was unusual, she was ready to get on her knees and do his bidding. “As long as you don't stop.” 

He slid his free hand down over her ass, gripping the plump curve then lifting his hand. She jumped as it came back down again, in a sharp, light smack. 

“Princess, I don’t plan on stopping until you’re too hoarse to scream my name anymore.” 

He kissed her finally, his lips crashing down over hers. It wasn’t a kiss from the romance novels she loved to read, or even the erotic novels she only read late at night in her room. It wasn’t polished and sexy, designed to appeal to her heart. It was raw and primal, intended to seduce all her feminine instincts. She gasped, the sound cut off as he used the opportunity to slide his tongue past her lips. 

The slow sizzle he'd started inside her down at the bar with those possessive looks had developed into explosions bringing her blood from simmering to full boil. It wasn't just his lips and the way he owned her with his mouth and tongue. No. There was more. An elemental, primal connection she didn't want to acknowledge. 

He'd spanked her. Actually had the nerve to slap her ass, and instead of being outraged, she wanted to beg him to do it again. One thing was for sure, she was about to get much more than just a night of hot sex. 

He urged her back toward the bed, and she didn’t stop him. Hell, her higher brain functions had taken a hike out into the wide blue yonder, leaving her defenseless. He broke the kiss, turning her around in one swift move. She staggered on her heels, but he was already there, one arm around her waist supporting her at the same time he yanked the zipper at her spine down. 

She moaned as the cooler air of the room hit her exposed skin, suddenly glad she’d worn the lingerie. Black satin and lace from one of her favorite boutiques made her feel wanton just touching it…knowing he was looking at it? Her panties were in meltdown. 

He divested her of the dress with a speed that spoke of long practice. Only his hissed exhale and pause when he’d thrown it aside told her that the sight affected him. Then he moved, pressed his hips against hers, and the thick bar of his cock against her ass told her all she needed to know. 

“You’re fucking gorgeous, Princess,” he growled by her ear, big hands sliding around to cup her tits over her push-up bra. Her generous cleavage practically overflowed the cups. His breathing hitched. She took that to mean he liked her breasts. 

He cupped the girls, his hands not gentle, but not rough either. Just enough to arouse. He found the lace at the edge of the cups, then ventured within. She gasped, biting her lip as his fingers found her nipples, stroking them to attention under the fabric. 

“And this is pretty, but it needs off. Now.” He reached between the cups and flicked the clasp. It gave, the cups falling away and tumbling her tits into his hands. 

She lolled her head back into his chest. His hands on her body felt good. Right. Like they belonged there. She wanted, no, needed more. Her own breathing filled her ears, and need controlled her every move. “One of us is overdressed. And it's not me.” 

He nipped her ear, the pain small but sharp, shooting a line of fire right down to her clit. It throbbed, as eager for his attention as her nipples. “My way, my rules. Problem with that?” 

She wanted to ask too many questions. It was her nature. Instead, she shook her head and followed her instincts. “No. What do you have in mind?” 

“What I have in mind? You’ll have to wait and see.” 

He moved, the loss of his body heat against her back making her shiver. His hand landed on her ass again, warming her with an entirely different kind of fire. She jumped, but the sound that emerged wasn’t one of pain, but pure desire. Before she could recover from the spank, he tweaked her nipple, making her jump and gasp again. She wanted this, wanted him. 

“Seems the princess likes a little bit of pain.” 

He was back, his breath washing over the side of her neck and stirring the small hairs at her hairline. Another slap and she was ready to squirm and beg. His rough palm stroked over her ass, then his fingers curled under her panties, dragging them down inch by slow inch. For each inch, he played with her nipple. Stroking. Pulling. Tweaking. 

The underwear fell around her ankles, and he stepped away. She pouted and made to turn, but his growl warned her to stay where she was. 

“On the bed, hands on the headboard. And don’t move unless you’re told to.”