“Hey, you okay?” I look away from Silas and turn toward the woman who’s now offering me a bottle of beer. She has a surprisingly kind smile. “It sounds like you could use one of these.”

I accept it with some hesitation but am not ready to take a sip. I’ve just been darted less than two hours ago, for Christ’s sake. My trust is at an all-time low at the moment.

“I’m Jenny, Cole’s old lady.”

Her red hair is up in a high ponytail, light brown eyes winking under the somewhat harsh bulbs of the clubhouse. Maybe it’s the conservative way she dresses compared to the other women around, or perhaps the offer of free beer has something to do with it, or it could be the genuine-looking smile spread across her lips. Either way, I find myself warming up to the strange woman. In a place like this, a new friend isn’t just a distraction, it’s also a possible way out.

“Thanks. Sabrina.” I nod, tipping the bottle forward until our beers clink together. “Which man is yours?”

As I struggle to twist off the beer cap, my eyes follow Jenny’s finger. She points across the room toward a tough-as-nails, huge ox of a silver-haired man sitting in the corner near the pool table. He’s idly puffing on a cigar, watching the pool table and current round of players. The silver fox turns and my eyebrows shoot up. His hair’s all gray, but his face is young. He’s got to be in his early thirties at most. Maybe late twenties. Must be a premature graying hair condition. His eyes move through the crowd and connects with ours as if he can hear his wife talking about him. Then he winks in our direction.

“He seems nice.”

“He’s VP around here. We’re newlyweds. Damn straight he’s nice. He’s everything to me.”

Sure, okay.

“Congrats,” I add, and we keep the conversation going for a while.

“See the tall one with the neck tattoo and the beard? That’s Axe. He’s Sergeant at Arms, and Silas’s best friend. You may have just missed Dean outside. He’s the top candidate for the vacant Road Captain position. Silas is still assessing him. Oh, and the guy at the end of the bar with his hand down the blonde’s top? That’s Tate. He’s Secretary and Treasurer. Just so you know, he’s a dick, so do yourself a favor and stay far away from that one.”

I smile, but not because of what Jenny just said about Tate. My escape plan will be a breeze with Mrs. Loose Lips filling me in on the group’s key people. I take a long swig of beer to look like I’m interested in this Tate fella.

“He’s a handful?” I take a second to focus on the well-built biker with a blue Mohawk. The man’s hands are going to town on the blonde’s cleavage, right there at the bar as if they’re in their own private lounge or something. The truth is, I don’t care one bit that the Tate guy is a caveman. I’m planning my escape routes. “Looks like a real winner.”

“He’s trouble…and an acquired taste. Unless you want to be screwed eight ways till Sunday and are into a lot of kinky shit. In which case, he’s your man. But if you want to pick a lock, find something online or crack a code, it’s another story. It’s why we keep him around. Plus, he’s honest with the books, and a half-decent maid.”

I laugh, pretending to enjoy the banter. “You know, I have to ask. Why are you telling me all this?”

Jenny looks at me from head to toe. “I just have a good feeling about you.”

Well. Good old Jenny has some seriously bad judgment for trusting me, but who am I to straighten the girl out? In a way, it’s a breath of fresh air, after all the tension with the club’s reigning president and his territorial, queen bee momma breathing down my neck.

“Thanks. I guess while I have you here, maybe you can clue me in so I know the rules of this place? I’d hate to break one by accident. I hear these clubhouses are like secret societies?”

Jenny levels me her with a curious expression, and then she bursts into a peal of giggles. “I like you, honey. Hopefully you stick around.” Jenny’s still laughing as she downs the rest of her beer and lets out a dainty burp. “Want another one?”

I glance down at my more than half-full bottle. “Okay.”

Jenny moves in close for a hug, so I roll with it. The woman holds on to me as if we’ve known each other all our lives. As we pull away, I fight to make sense of this weird kinship the woman’s trying to form with me. I don’t have many female friends.

“As for the club, try not to piss off Cindy Corrigan, and you’ll be okay. You seem like a smart chick. I’ll leave the rest up to you. Use your head. You’ll fit in fine around here.”

Her husband steps off his bar stool near the pool tables and strides over to a spot at the bar, signaling with his hand to get Jenny’s attention. “Hey wifey, bring that sweet ass of mine over here on my lap.” His roar echoes through the lodge, overpowering everyone else’s talking and laughter.

“Looks like I’m needed elsewhere. You know the drill. I’ll see you around.”

I don’t know the drill at all, but I’m a quick learner. Tossing back a third of the beer, I lower my sweaty bottle to my side, but a hand plucks it out of my palm.

“Hey, I wasn’t done with that—” I start, but my words are cut off by Silas and his unreadable stare. He doesn’t say a word as he rests the bottle it on the nearest table. “What do you want?”

“Follow me.” He nods his head in the direction of the stairs, and I follow him up, not minding the valid excuse to admire his tight, perfect ass.

“Admit it, big guy. You ran out of pet names, didn’t you?”

“Hardly, dollface.” He smirks over his shoulder and keeps walking down a wide hallway, opening one of the doors on the right. “This room has it’s own bathrooms, but it you need any supplies, there are a few more at the other end of the hall. Make yourself at home in this room for now. I’ll be out here waiting.”

“Awww, how sweet.” I flutter my eyelashes and frown, then roll my eyes.

“You have a heck of a lot of attitude. I can fucking appreciate that.”

“I look like I care what you appreciate, don’t I?” I grin, pressing in close to him to pass through the slightly cracked door. I don’t keep that smile on my face for long, though. My breasts brush against his lower chest, and the sensation has me half-lidded and drenched between my legs, with my nipples already hardening through the thin material of my dress. Before I can move away, his hand shoots around my wrist and yanks me in closer. I suck in a surprised breath at the sudden jerk, his fingers burning into the sensitive flesh of my inner wrist. Neither of us move an inch. We both remain locked in a tension-fueled stalemate. I sense him staring down at me, but I’m am too stubborn to look up at him—and too amped up with raw need, if I’m being honest.

“If you know what’s good for you, don’t play that game. Don’t wake the beast.” He presses in closer, stepping me backward until my ass is pressed up against the door jamb. His muscled thigh lingers between my legs, and his hard cock nudges my belly.

It feels like I already woke it.

This is going way too far, but hell, I have a hard time stopping myself. I’m frantic to slip into the room and away from his dizzying gravitational pull that practically shuts down my mind from rational thought. Clearing my throat, I try to come up with a witty way to make him back off. Some distance between us will subdue the sexual fantasies winding their way through my blurred vision at light speed. I swallow and try again while his encroaching heat only grows hotter against my aroused flesh.

“You’re…so…hot,” I croak as his fingers idly trace the bare line of my collarbone along the halter neckline of my dress. My eyes close at his butterfly soft touch. Jesus. How is it possible for someone so big, tough and badass to be so gentle?

Silas groans, and his arm tightens around my waist, drawing me impossibly close.

“I don’t…understand,” I mumble. I can’t remember the last time a man’s hands had such an effect on me because nothing like this ever happened to my body just from someone’s touch.

He grinds his hips forward, rubbing his cock against my abdomen. I let out an unintended breathy sigh as every part of my body goes on high alert. I’m still clutching the bundle of his clothes to my side with one hand, and my purse with the other. That leaves no barrier between us to keep me sane—other than the vague fragment of a hazy thought that I don’t know this man from a hole in the ground.

“Fuck,” he moans.

Christ, that small, deep sound makes my skin prickle with pent-up pleasure. Without thinking, my right hand falls from my tight hold on his clothes, dropping it altogether when he winds his fingers into my hair and tugs my head backward. The sound of the clothes hitting the floor must bring him back to reality. Silas leaps back into the hallway as if I pulled a knife on him. Cooler air invades my body from the void created by the abrupt loss of his contact. It leaves me numb and unsteady. My eyes widen, lips slightly parted and desperately trying to regain some control. I still can’t feel my legs.

Silas clears his throat nervously, and I sneak a glance at him as he adjusts himself in his pants, looking away. Taking the opportunity, I quickly pick up the spare clothes and slip into the bedroom. It isn’t until I pass the door that I hear what sounds like his quiet apology through the thick walnut wood.