He’d just fucked three bitches not more than an hour or so ago and now with Jewelee wrapped around his back, he had another fucking hard-on.

Jesus.

The fucking woman drove him crazy.

He’d been doing everything he could to keep his hands off her for the past few months. That day he carried her upstairs to his room at church when she’d totally sent him into a tailspin by waiting for him outside of the restroom, he’d been a cunt hair away from doing just that. He’d lost his mind when he came out of the bathroom after fucking another nameless, faceless cunt and saw Jewel sitting at the end of the bar, arms crossed and looking like a pissed off little hellcat. But once he carried her upstairs and had thrown her onto his bed, the fog in his brain had cleared. Or at least enough for him to realize he couldn’t stick his dick in her after just fucking another woman. Hell, he couldn’t stick his dick in Jewel at all.

Even though she had been sprawled on his bed where she landed, her tits heaving, her tempting, fuckable mouth parted, her blue eyes wide and her cheeks flushed, he couldn’t touch a hair on her head.

Then it hit him, that if he did so, it would be the worst mistake of his life.

So instead, he had taken a deep breath to get his shit together, bitten off a curse, turned on his heel, and stormed out of his room, slamming the door behind him.

That was the closest he’d ever come to losing his shit around her. It could never happen again. But now with her clinging to his back, her tits pressed against him, and her pussy nestled tightly against his ass as they headed toward Shadow Valley, the thoughts running through his head were the same ones he’d been trying to fight.

He had to remain strong and not slip, or he’d be fucked.

Or she’d end up good and fucked. What a goddamn mess that would be.

He was still torqued about what she’d been wearing tonight, too. A way-too-short skirt, fuck-me high-heeled boots, a snug top that bared both shoulders and showed most of her cleavage. Large gold hoops hung from her ears and another smaller hoop circled the side of her nostril.

His jaw tightened and he ground his back molars. She’d been out trolling for strange. And if he hadn’t shown up in time, she might have gotten some strange she hadn’t bargained for.

His nostrils flared and he twisted the throttle harder, causing the bike to lurch forward with the sudden increase in speed. They were just minutes from his pop’s pawn shop where Jewel now lived in the apartment above. She’d moved in a couple weeks ago after Jag and Ivy got a house and moved out.

He would have preferred that Jewel remained living with her mother, Ruby. Because now that she lived on her own, she could bring all kinds of strange home.

Jesus fuckin’ Christ.

He took the corner into the alley fast enough that Jewel had to hold on even tighter, then he rolled his sled into the side lot of the pawn shop and parked his bike at the base of the metal stairway that led up to her place.

He kicked the stand down, shut the engine off and sat staring up the steps.

He was going to take her upstairs, get her inside safely, get his shirt back and then get gone.

That’s what he was going to fucking do.

Doing anything else would mean complications and drama. And he liked simple. Clean. Neat. Nothing holding him back. Nothing holding him down.

“Get off,” he ordered.

With an irritated sigh, Jewel dismounted from the bike, then stood there, his worn Ocean City Bike Week T-shirt just about swallowing her whole. It hit hard how much smaller she was than him. About half his size.

He followed her off the bike and stood next to her. She was on the smaller side of all the DAMC women, a whole foot shorter than his six-foot-four.

She might look delicate and petite in his oversized shirt, but he knew better. Her attitude and personality was pure DAMC, one hundred percent biker bitch. She wasn’t afraid of shit. And she had a mouth on her that would curl a preacher’s hair.

His gaze dropped to that mouth and he ground his teeth to remind himself he couldn’t touch her.

“Let’s go,” he barked, grabbing her arm. Before he could get a good grip on it, she yanked free and huffed toward the metal steps. When she started hoofing it up the stairs in those high-heeled boots, her hips rocked and rolled, making it impossible to miss the jiggle of her ass under his tee.

Jesus fuckin’ Christ. He rolled his eyes upward to the early dawn sky and sucked in lungs full of the cool morning air.

When he finally heard her hit the landing, he moved. Taking the steps two at a time, he kept repeating in his head: she’s not mine, she’s not mine, she’s not mine.

He followed on her heels as she unlocked the door and entered the dark apartment.

A couple of steps in, she turned, planted her hands on her hips and said, “Thanks. You can go now.”

He shook his head, shut the door firmly, twisted the dead bolt and pushed past her to the middle of the small living room. She hit the switch by the door and the room lit up.

When he glanced around, he noticed that Ivy had left her furniture for Jewel so the apartment was fully furnished. But even so, it had definitely changed. Jewel had put her own touches on the place. She loved Harleys and the MC life as much as any of the brothers and her decorative touch certainly showed that she was a complete biker babe meant to be on the back of some brother’s bike.

Just not his.

“You can go now,” she repeated, staying near the door.

He shook his head again. “Gotta talk.”

She faked a yawn. “Too tired. We’ll talk later.”

“Didn’t want to deal with the shit, shouldn’t have called me.”

She shrugged. “My mistake.”

“Woman,” he growled.

“Fine,” she huffed and moved closer to the couch to toss her skirt she’d been carrying onto one of the cushions.

That thing needed to be burned. The skirt, not the couch.

“Fuckin’ looked like one of Dawg’s girls,” he muttered.

“Just your type,” she muttered back.

His jaw tightened and so did his chest. Dawg’s strippers were only a means to an end. But he kept that to himself, since she was smart enough to figure that out on her own. Not that he gave a shit.

“Start talkin’.”

“About what?” she asked, her face suddenly looking innocent.

Which was total fucking bullshit because she was anything but innocent. Her ass was always scheming, trying to find ways to get into trouble.

Drove him fucking nuts.

“Talk!” he barked so loudly he didn’t miss her body jerk in response.

“D—”

“Went to score drugs?”

Her blue eyes bugged out. “No!”

“Went to score strange then?”

Her hesitation was telling. He struggled to keep a lid on his temper.

“No,” she whispered.

He didn’t believe it. “For fuck’s sake, is this why you weren’t at the party at church?”

“I get tired of that shit sometimes. I wanted to do something different.”

“What, gettin’ some strange?” he asked again.

“I said no, D. Jesus!”

“He ain’t gonna help you.” He took a step closer and she quickly scrambled around the couch, putting it in between them. “Who fuckin’ drove you there?”

She bit her bottom lip and avoided his eyes.

“Jewelee, ain’t screwin’ around here,” he warned. “Gonna find out. Might as well tell me.”

She pressed her hands over her face, then sighed. “Kelsea,” she said softly.

Jesus fuck. Kelsea. Another one who was always looking for trouble. And though his cousin wasn’t much younger than Jewel, she still acted like a teenager and tended to hang around with a bunch of young partiers.

“An’ she left you?”

“Yeah.”

For fuck’s sake. “Need to worry ‘bout her?”

Jewel’s eyes slid to the side. “No.”

“She gettin’ strange?

“No.”

His mouth got tight. He was going to have a sit-down with his cousin. She needed to learn that she didn’t leave a DAMC sister in a bad section of the city in the middle of the night. Specially to get laid. “She fuckin’ someone on the regular?”

Jewel’s gaze dropped to the floor. “Yeah.”

“Who?”

“Can’t—”

“Who?” he shouted and took another step forward.

Jewel’s narrowed eyes landed on him and she didn’t step back this time. Instead, she rounded the couch and got into his face with her hands on her hips.

“One of the hang-arounds. Gotta ask her. It’s not for me to say, D. You wanna know who your cousin is fucking, you...” She jabbed him in the chest with her finger. “Ask...” Jabbed him again. “Her.”

Diesel grabbed her hand, pulled her close and pinned her against his chest. He stared down into her face, her eyes flashing, her breathing rapid. He wrapped his hand around her chin, tilted her head up and held her gaze. “Know her reason now. What’s yours?”

Her baby blues shifted.

“Eyes on me,” he demanded.

And, fuck him, if she didn’t comply. After holding her gaze for a few moments, he had to ignore the fire that burned in his gut. He also ignored his dick trying to punch a hole in his jeans.

She’s not mine, she’s not mine, she’s not mine.

Ain’t gonna make her mine, either. Too much other snatch out there without strings.

“Woman.”

Jewel blinked slowly, her mouth opened, closed, then opened again. Her words came out in a whisper. “I was trying to keep an ear out for Squirrel Dick and that soon-to-be-dead fucker Black Jack.”

His body lurched. She was doing what?

His fingers tightened on her chin and she winced. He didn’t care. She needed to pay careful attention to his next words.

“Leave that shit to me. Got my crew on it. Got the Knights keepin’ an eye out. Don’t need you gettin’ in the middle of shit.”

“D—”

“No. Fuckin’ listen, woman. Stay outta that shit. Got me?” When she flattened her lips, his blood pressure skyrocketed. She wasn’t getting it. “You forget what they did to Jazz? To Kiki?”

“No.”

“Want that shit to happen to you?” And, hell, it almost did tonight. Maybe not by a Warrior, but there were plenty of other predators out there. He’d never forget the sight of finding Kiki and Jazz in an abandoned house after being beaten to the point of being unrecognizable. Jazz being raped and having “SWMC” carved into her belly with a knife. Shit he’d never forget and still haunted him when he tried to sleep.

He also couldn’t forget the sight of Bella after what happened to her. She’d been left just as broken and scarred as Kiki and Jazz but by someone who was supposed to have loved her.

He’d never forget any of that shit because it was burned permanently into his brain, as well as his soul.

If that shit happened to Jewel, too...

“No, D.”

“Stay the fuck outta it. Ain’t fuckin’ with you, Jewel. Tan your fuckin’ hide, you do this shit again.”

“You can’t tan my hide.”

His heart pounded like a drum in his chest. “Try me,” he ground out.

With a strangled voice, she whispered, “Your beast is showing.”

His nostrils flared and he sucked in a breath. She had started calling him that just months ago. She was trying to get him to his breaking point. He wasn’t going to let her push him to that. No, he wasn’t.

“Stop with that shit or you’ll get a taste of my ‘beast.’ Ain’t sure you’re gonna like it.”

“Try me,” Jewel echoed him.

Diesel’s head jerked back and he tipped his chin down to her. Her face wasn’t hard. Fuck no it wasn’t. It was soft, her eyes inviting.

Jesus fuckin’ Christ.

He needed to get the fuck out of there. He let her go and shoved her away. “Gimme my shirt.”

Her eyes held his for a moment, then she grabbed the hem of his T-shirt and yanked it over her head, taking her own top with it.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” he muttered out loud this time. He swallowed hard as she stood in the middle of her living room only wearing a red thong and her black leather knee-high boots.

Fuck me.

He had never seen the woman naked and in the past had imagined it many times, but what stood before him was so much better than his own visuals.

Way fucking better.

“Jesus, Jewelee,” he said quietly. He was frozen in place because if he moved forward he was going to toss her over his shoulder, take her to her bedroom and then fuck her until neither of them could move.

But if he moved toward the front door...

Yeah, that’s what he needed to do. He needed to grab his shirt from between her fingers and get the hell out of Dodge.

But, for fuck’s sake, he couldn’t stop staring at her. And she made no move to cover herself. His shirt hung from her fingers by her side. Her tits, not huge, but perfect for her smaller frame, were firm and the nipples peaked into hard points.

Her lips were parted and her eyes hooded.

And his dick was screaming at him to take action.

Until now, he had no clue that she had a tattoo of a red rose with thorns over her right hip. And a belly button ring. Her stomach and hips had just enough flesh so she wasn’t skinny; her thighs looked soft and inviting.

Too fucking inviting.

He wanted her to turn around. He needed to see her ass with her red thong up the crack.

Jesus. That’d be like unwrapping a birthday gift. It’d be the best fucking birthday ever.

But reality hit him that today wasn’t his birthday and he needed to get the fuck out of there before he did something really fucking stupid.

Something that neither one of them would forget.

“Jewelee.”

“Yeah?” A look of hope crossed her expression.

“Shirt on the couch. Go to your room an’ lock the fuckin’ door until you hear me leave. Then come out and lock the front door.”

She frowned. “D—”

“Do it. Now.”

She lifted her hand that was empty, pleading, “D... don’t go.” Her voice was low and husky and it shot all the way down into his already steel-hard dick.

He shook his head but his eyes never left her. He couldn’t stop himself from letting his gaze roam her tight little body once more. He swallowed again. This time it was more difficult. “Gotta go.”

“D.”

“No, woman, ain’t playin’ this game of yours.”

“Why?”

“’Cause you’ll end up clingy an’ a fuckin’ nag.”

She winced but quickly hid it. “Just a one-time thing. Promise.”

Oh, fuck no, he wasn’t falling for that trap.

He was going to say something and knew he’d regret it, but he had to snap himself out of whatever trance he was in and he had to hit her with some hard reality so she’d do the same. It was the only way he was going to get out of her apartment without driving himself deep inside her.

“Just had three of Dawg’s strippers on my cock not more than an hour ago, woman. Want sloppy seconds?”

This time when she winced, it stuck. Her eyes hardened, her demeanor changed. And her mouth became an angry slash as she threw his shirt on the couch and turned.

Jesus. That ass with only that scrap of red cloth parting those round cheeks... Fuck.

She strode in those damn high-heeled boots down the hallway and not a second later he heard the slam of her bedroom door.

He closed his eyes, took a shuddered breath and cursed himself. He opened his mouth to call her name but when his eyes opened they landed on her way-too-short skirt abandoned on the couch.

He shrugged off his cut, grabbed his T-shirt, yanked it over his head, slid his cut back on and was out the fucking door before he made a very bad decision.

* * *

Diesel groaned and flipped onto his back. His eyes were squeezed shut, his palm was wrapped around his dick and he yanked at it as he struggled to get the picture of Jewel wearing only her thong and boots out of his head.

His hips rose and fell onto his mattress following the rhythm of his fist. The hand not full of cock was twisted in the sheets as he tugged harder, his balls tightening painfully.

He needed to wipe that vision of Jewel out of his head and he hoped a good jerk off would do it.

As much as he’d wanted to touch her, he couldn’t. He couldn’t. She wasn’t his and she’d never be his.

She wasn’t a quick fuck. She wasn’t a woman he’d fuck against the wall in the bathroom.

She wasn’t the kind of woman he’d just fuck to drain the load from his balls.

And that’s all he was looking for because he didn’t want anything more. He didn’t want an ol’ lady. He also didn’t want to make the mistake of sticking his dick in snatch that would expect to become his ol’ lady, either.

That shit wasn’t for him.

Never was. Never would be.

So this was why he was jerking on his own pud right now. To try to get Jewel, her sweet body, and the speculation of what her tight, wet cunt would feel like wrapped around his dick, out of his mind.

But, fuck him, it wasn’t working.

He groaned again, flipped over to his belly and punched his bed in frustration. Grabbing his pillow, he tucked it under his torso and imagined it was Jewel under him, with her legs wrapped around his waist while he was buried completely into her slick, wet heat. He tilted his hips back and forth, driving his cock up and down on his mattress.

This was what he was reduced to. Dry humping his fucking bed when he could’ve stayed and took what was offered. The real thing. He could’ve driven his cock deep into her sweet pussy and then her tight ass, blowing his load only when he’d had enough.

But no.

Gritting his teeth, he pumped his hips faster, the friction from the sheet making him suck in a breath. Squeezing the pillow under him harder, he shoved his face into a second pillow and with a final pump, he came with a grunt. His cum shot between his stomach and the sheet, making a complete mess.

Just like his fucking life.