It was only four p.m. and already I was pacing around Zeke’s house like I’d been caged there for weeks. It hadn’t even been 24 hours yet, and I’d slept a good eight of them. But Zeke and Jax were out talking to some of Zeke’s Reaper brothers, and I wanted to know what was going on.

I wasn’t alone. Before they’d left, Jax explained to me that a couple guys were out front. They’d stay parked in the car, leaving me be, unless they saw anything suspicious. Then they’d be all over it.

I poured myself a glass of water, then let it sit untouched on the counter top. I checked the clock over the stove, frustrated at the lack of change in the time. With a glance of disbelief, I realized I was still wearing my wedding ring. Why the hell hadn’t I taken that off yet? I tore it off my finger and threw it into my backpack. Satisfying as it would be to throw it out, even better would be some extra cash in my pocket when I got a chance to hock it.

Glancing at the TV, I knew I could flick it on. But there was no way I could focus on it when I had so much on my mind. I’d already known, before Jax had laid it out for me, there were only two ways this could end. Either Jax and I would die, or Mike would. He wouldn’t quit for anything less.

I knew him too well. I knew what he was capable of, and how he thought. He’d see this situation as black and white, I’d done him wrong and deserved to die. And he’d present it like that to his brothers. I’d cheated on him with Jax, that he was clearly convinced about, and there was some truth to it. Not nearly as much truth as I’d wanted. But Jax and I had crossed the line. Mike would never forgive and forget. He’d get revenge in the most satisfying way he knew how.

I didn’t feel good about going to the Reapers, but I’d seen the Skulls in action for years now. They had a whole bunch of dirty cops on their payroll. It seemed to me like no one in the club ever ended up on the wrong side of the law unless the president wanted it that way. If they got on the big guy’s bad side, then they’d be grateful if all they got was some prison time. At least that way they’d still be alive.

I didn’t know what the Reapers would want me to do, what role they’d ask me to play in going after my husband. But I knew even before I heard what it was, I’d do it. It was Old Testament of me, an eye for an eye, and if it were just me involved I might be more reluctant. I might choose a life of hiding and fear if it were just me suffering.

But Jax was involved, too, whether he wanted to be or not. It wasn’t like he could open up some bar in Mexico and live his life out in the open for the rest of his life. I didn’t know if it would take a month, a year, or more for Mike to get wind of his whereabouts, but he’d do it. The thought of that evil, vile man getting the better of a man like Jax? I couldn’t stand it. This needed to end.

Finally, around five o’clock, Zeke and Jax came back. Zeke put some beers into the fridge and Jax set down two large pizza boxes on the counter.

“Hey.” Jax smiled when he saw me, moving like he was about to give me a hug. I wanted that so bad my body ached. But he held himself back, merely placing a hand on my shoulder. “How you doing?”

“Fine,” I lied, not telling him I felt like jumping out of my own skin. He could probably tell just by looking at me anyway. “How’d it go?”

“Good. It went good.” He turned and started getting out paper plates. He seemed tight-lipped and tense, but that seemed reasonable even if the meeting had gone well.

“He’s going straight to the top tonight.” Zeke clapped Jax on the back, the slap resounding on Jax’s leather jacket. “The big man.”

Jax looked at me and explained, “I’m meeting with the club president tonight. He wants to hear more about it.” In response to my worried look, he added, “It’s a good thing.”

“He’s got to get involved with something like this.” Zeke held up a beer, looking over at me and giving it a tap to ask if I wanted one. This time, I said yes.

“But don’t worry, Sky. You’re in good hands.” He elbowed Jax and Jax elbowed him back. I got a glimpse at their teenage selves and it made me smile.

“Hey, look. There it is.” Jax beamed at me, taking a step closer when, again, he halted.

“What?”

“You’re smiling. I haven’t seen that in months.”

I kept smiling, but down at the floor, shy. Jax always noticed little things like that about me. I couldn’t deny how special he made me feel, like there was something rare and wonderful about me that he could see. I didn’t even feel that way about myself, so it humbled me, the way he observed and praised.

Zeke flicked on a big flat screen TV and the three of us got comfortable on his leather sectional sofa. Some stupid prank reality show was on. I barely paid attention, sitting so close to Jax. I felt aware of his every move, the heat radiating off of his body, the way he stretched his arm along the back of the sofa behind me.

Last night when I’d shown up at his house, I’d been so distraught his presence had barely registered. That was the first time I could say that. I guessed it took multiple physical injuries, nearly killing someone, plus fearing retaliation at any moment to overpower my attraction to Jax. But there I was, the following night, with the old familiar feelings surging through me.

No one had ever affected me like Jax. I’d liked boys since the sixth grade, had plenty of crushes and then a couple of boyfriends before I met Mike. They all paled in comparison, like ripples in a pond instead of a tidal wave. He made me shake, the taut outline of his bicep, the corded strength in his forearm. Even the width of his thighs, so powerful, next to me on the couch. As frightened and unsure about everything as I felt, arousal coursed through me.

I’d almost gone ahead and kissed him when we were in bed together. Waking up with his giant cock pressing against my inner thigh, I’d come so close to leaning in and bringing my lips to his throat. He smelled so good and felt so hot and hard and it had been so long since I’d been near him.

But then I’d remembered the last time I’d seen him. He’d been walking along the street downtown, looking like he didn’t have a care in the world with a leggy blond. She’d tossed her hair back and laughed like Barbie at a pool party. They’d looked good together. He’d looked relaxed, content. I hadn’t really ever seen that in him. Around me, he always seemed wound up and intense. But I’d seen a whole other side to him in that moment downtown. And it had made me pull away from him in bed.

We sat together on the couch, one show bleeding into the next, until Zeke said they should probably get a move on. Jax rose to head to the bathroom. Zeke picked up our used paper plates and brought them to the kitchen. Which meant I was the one who saw Jax’s phone when it buzzed with a call.

I didn’t mean to snoop, but his phone lit up and it was right next to me. I didn’t touch it, try to swipe and answer it. But I did look down into exactly the same blond, smiling face that moments ago I’d remembered seeing. There she was, next to me on the couch, buzzing away on his phone. Apparently her name was Nikki. Supes fun!

My stomach twisted up, and I stood just to get away from her image. He probably hated being away from his girlfriend. Cheeks burning with embarrassment, I wondered what she must think of all this mess. How had he described it to her? A friendship with some woman who looked after his grandfather that got a little out of hand. Nothing much had even ever happened between us, but her husband had flipped the fuck out anyway. Jax was probably dying to get back to her, counting the hours until he wrapped this up for good.

“OK, you sit tight. A couple of guys are outside keeping an eye on you.” Jax and Zeke pulled on their jackets, looking like two badasses going to meet with an MC prez. I guessed that was what they were. “You going to be all right?” Jax gave me a lingering look as I stood in the kitchen.

“I’ll be fine. Probably watch some more TV and get to bed early.” I didn’t meet his eyes.

“Good. Don’t worry about anything, it’s all going to work out.”

I nodded, tightly, guessing he was reminding himself as much as assuring me. He had a whole life to get back to, with his bar and his girl.

“Oh, and I’ll pick up a phone for you. One that can’t be traced.” He paused a moment, as if he wanted to do or say something more.

“Let’s get a move on.” Zeke led him into the garage. He followed without saying anything more.

The next five hours seemed like the longest of my life. No phone, nothing to bake, not able to leave the house, I thought I’d lose my mind. I showered just for something to do. I flicked through movies and shows, nothing capturing my attention for even a fraction of a second.

What were they doing? What was the conversation they were having like? Was it going well? Was Jax safe? Maybe I should have gone with him, or at least offered? I’d tried to handle this all on my own, leaving Mike without any help. Now it looked like things were happening the other way around, with Jax doing all the maneuvering and planning. I should be a part of things.

I guessed I should also be feeling some burden, a heavy weight over my soul. They weren’t talking about bringing Mike to justice under due process of law. There would be no trial. They were talking about meting out their own version of justice, an eye for an eye. A finger for a finger. The thought popped into my head, unbidden, along with what I’d seen that night at the club. The image of his laughter, his boastful, proud face as he showed off some guy’s bloody finger, that filled me with more certainty than even the memory of his heated attempt to kill me.

It was the sociopathic laughter, the disassociation of his cheerful demeanor with the graphic, disturbing evidence of extreme violence that hardened my resolve. Mike needed to taste the fruit of his labor. He’d been a bad man for a long time. It was time to stop him, by any means necessary.

Finally, around midnight, I managed to drift off into a troubled sleep. Images of Nikki danced through my dreams, her laughter, light like a balloon drifting off up into the summer sunshine. Meanwhile I sat in the dark, weighted down with pain.

Tormented, my eyes opened around three a.m. I looked for Jax on the couch but it was empty. Were they still out meeting with the Reapers’?

The light was on in the hallway and I tiptoed toward it. Maybe he and Zeke were up in the living room. I could go ask what had happened.

I didn’t hear voices, no sound at all except the roaring rush of water coming from the adjoining bathroom. Drawing closer, the door slightly ajar, I could hear that someone was taking a shower. Probably Jax.

I should have turned around and headed back to bed. Maybe it was because my nightmares had been so dreadful, pulling and pushing me around like demons, but I stayed there, at the door. And I nudged it open an inch more.

Inside, the bathroom was steamy. But I had a direct view of the shower. And what I saw wasn’t a curtain. Zeke’s house was pretty tricked out. I guess sometimes crime did pay, because he had a pretty high-end glass shower. It gave me quite a view.

Jax had his back turned toward me. I’d known he was muscular. You’d have to be blind to not pick up on that fact. But seeing him naked took my breath away. His shoulders rippled with definition as the water pounded down along them. His torso formed a perfect V, the broad width of his back tapering down to his hips and then, dear God his ass. Round and muscular and sculpted, I couldn’t look away.

And then I realized what he was doing. He groaned and shifted slightly, turning to rest one of his palms against a shower wall. The other palm was moving, back and forth, stroking his thick, hard cock.

I bit my lip. I should go. I shouldn’t be there in the hallway spying on him. What if he looked up and saw me? The way he was turned now, he could catch me if he glanced at the door. But I couldn’t move. I was fascinated, riveted, watching him stroke himself, bring himself pleasure.

I couldn’t help it, it made me throb so much to see him. I slipped my hands down, past the hemline of the T-shirt I wore—his T-shirt, tempting and surrounding me with his scent. I slid inside my panties, parting my legs and moving my fingers down to find the part of me that ached. I had to stifle a moan when I felt how wet I already was, watching him, seeing the tension build in his body. His muscles so hard, bulging in the heat. The pace of his hand increasing, the way his lips parted slightly as he leaned over his hand.

I matched his movements, circling my clit, stroking my slick pussy, pushing my hips into my fingers. I pressed against the doorframe, clutching it with my free hand, both supporting myself and stopping myself from walking inside. What would he do if I joined him? So aroused, so close to cumming, would he welcome me into the wet heat? Would he fuck me hard with that huge cock of his, parting my legs and pushing me up against the wall, making me scream it felt so good?

His buttocks clenched and he groaned, low and throaty, as he started to cum, spurting out in thick jets I wished I could taste. My own shudders climaxed, seeing him there, joining him as orgasmic ripples of pleasure tore through my body. Trying to bite back my moan, closing my eyes it felt so intense, I couldn’t be sure exactly what I heard him say. I was distracted, caught up in my own orgasm, but I thought I heard him say something as he came. Over the rush of the water, the blood pounding in my ears, I could have sworn I heard him groan, “Sky.”

Sucking my breath in, I took my hand out of my panties, almost feeling like I’d been caught. But my furtive glance over to him didn’t reveal anything other than him standing, still now as he leaned heavily toward the wall, forehead against his hand. I took my ‘get out of jail free’ card and ran with it, padding swiftly barefoot back to the bedroom. I threw myself into bed quicker than a teenager about to get caught for sneaking out.

Covers up and over me, head turned into the pillow, all lights off, I presented a convincing portrait. At least, I hoped I did. Jax came in about ten minutes later, and I could smell him, freshly showered. I wanted to run my hands all over that delicious body, see if he’d missed any drops in toweling off. I’d catch them with my tongue.

But I lay there, forcing my breathing to stay slow and steady, my eyes to remain closed. I could hear him stub his toe in the blackness, swear softly, then make his way to the couch. He sank onto it, over 200 pounds of muscle and man. He turned and shifted, trying to get comfortable.

I could invite him into the bed. It would be polite, considerate, helpful. Or I could offer to sleep on the couch instead. I felt embarrassed I hadn’t insisted on it. Last night I’d been so tired I barely remembered falling asleep. But tonight I could tell him we should switch, that it made no sense for him to suffer on that lumpy couch. His feet probably dangled off the end of it, but I’d tuck myself in easy.

But I didn’t because I didn’t trust myself. My body still tingled and glowed from my orgasm, the one he’d brought me to, watching him so glorious and naked and animalistic, stroking the biggest cock I’d ever seen. Plus I kept thinking about the moment —possibly imagined, but there it was, lodged in my brain nonetheless—when he might have called out my name. The thought that he might want me as much as I wanted him? That would not make for an easy transition, me lying neatly down on the couch while he climbed into bed. That would inevitably lead to fumbling in the dark, my hands reaching out, twisting, pulling, kissing. So I kept my eyes closed, and eventually my fake sleep turned into the real thing.

The next morning, I found Jax in the kitchen drinking some coffee. The clock on the stove read 10:15.

“I can’t believe I slept so late!” I brought my hand to my face, rubbing my eyes. “I never sleep this late.”

“You’ve got a lot on your mind. And it’s good for you to sleep.” Jax poured me some coffee. What a man, not even asking first. Add that to the list of reasons why it was getting harder and harder to keep my hands off of him.

“Thank you.” I took the mug from him, grateful. His glance slid from my face, down my body where I still wore just his T-shirt and panties from the night’s sleep. I probably should have slipped on my jeans first. I’d jumped up, wondering what time it was when I’d awakened to sunlight streaming through the window.

He looked away, seeming almost pained. “How’re the injuries today? Wrist? Shoulder?”

“Better.” I rolled my shoulder, finding it still sore but nothing another day of Ibuprofen wouldn’t help me through. I hadn’t told him I’d gotten hurt there. But he must have noticed me favoring it, in that observant way of his.

“And your throat?” He watched as I ran my hand over my neck.

“I’m good.” I swallowed, feeling no pain. I’d been lucky that night, so lucky I’d been able to defend myself. He could have done so much worse. “How did it go last night?”

“They’re interested, like I thought they would be.” His gaze met mine, his dark, intense eyes drawing me to him. “He wants to meet you.”

“Who? The president?” I’d figured they might want me involved in some way, but I hadn’t expected that. I’d barely even met the president of the Skulls. But, then again, MCs weren’t exactly all about the bring-your-wife family picnic. And Mike had kept me more and more isolated, telling me it was for my own good.

“Yup. Tonight, they’re having a party and they want us to come.”

“Huh.” I looked down at the T-shirt, feeling suddenly nervous about a great many things but fixing on one. “I don’t have anything to wear.”

“Yeah, Zeke’s having a girlfriend bring some clothes over.”

“That’s nice.”

“You’re nice, Sky. None of the rest of this is.”

I sipped my coffee, waiting for him to tell me more.

“Here’s the deal tonight. They want to size you up. Make sure you’re not screwing with them.”

“But, I wouldn’t—”

“I know that, Sky. And Zeke knows that, which goes a long way. But for a wife of a Skull to come to the Reapers, they need to know you mean it.”

I nodded. Of course, they’d want to make sure they weren’t getting led into a trap. “What do I need to do?”

“Be yourself. Be honest. And I think…” He paused, running his hand along his head. Every time he did it I felt jealous. “I think it would help if it seemed like we were together.”

“What?” I wasn’t sure what he meant. Together, together?

“They trust me. I’m in with Zeke. If you and I are together, they’ll see the whole picture.”

“So, together, like—?”

“Like you left Griller for me.”

I laughed nervously, the truth of those words so damn close to what I’d actually wanted to do. “Sure, OK, we can pretend to be a couple. I bet Nikki won’t like that much, though.” I hadn’t meant to mention his girlfriend. It had just sort of popped out.

“Nikki?” He looked at me like he had no idea what I was talking about.

“You know, your girlfriend?”

“I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“I saw the two of you together. Back a couple of months ago, downtown. And she called last night. I swear, I wasn’t trying to, but I saw your phone.”

“We did date, for a couple months. But it was nothing serious, Sky. And it ended in January.”

I nodded, suddenly feeling too emotional to say anything. I’d built so much up in my head over Jax, attached so much meaning to our every interaction. When I’d thought he had a girlfriend, it had hurt but it had felt like a protective layer, a coat of armor preventing my dreams from coming true. But there he was, standing next to me, completely single.

“So you’re not seeing anyone?” My voice came out a near whisper.

“No, I’m not.” The seconds dragged out between us, the silence gaining significance as it stretched and grew. “Sky.” His voice sounded lower, husky. “I know this is all crazy. You’ve been through so much.” He reached out his hand and touched my shoulder. It could have been a friendly, reassuring pat, nothing more. But it didn’t feel that way to me. And looking up into his eyes as his hand lingered, caressing my arm, hand down against my bare skin, it didn’t feel that way to him either.

The doorbell rang like a shriek, splitting us apart.

“Christ,” Jax muttered as he went to answer it.

“I have a special delivery!” A girl sauntered in with a large shopping bag filled with clothes. She looked around my age but she was wearing much more makeup and much less clothing. And I only had on a T-shirt.

“Thanks.” Jax took the bag from her, sounding gruff.

“You should have stayed out with us longer last night.” She turned her full attention to Jax, trailing a manicured nail up his chest. “We had a lot of fun. But it would have been funner with you.”

“Thanks.” I gave her a quick wave as I headed out of the kitchen, resisting the urge to bitchily inform her that ‘funner’ wasn’t a real word. “I’m going to go wash up.” I didn’t want to stay and see her wrap her tentacles all over Jax.

If what she was wearing was any indication of the kind of clothes she had in that shopping bag, I was going to go to the party dressed like a hooker. And not the expensive kind, the kind with an hourly rate and an angry pimp. Only the man by my side would be Jax. While we pretended to be a couple.

Looked like we were in for an interesting night.