Diesel gave a chin lift to the prospect that stood outside of Dirty Dick’s tasked with keeping an eye on the line of Dark Knights bikes parked out front.

“Gonna get greeted,” the young, light-skinned prospect warned.

“Right,” D grunted and yanked open the door anyway.

Loud music Diesel didn’t recognize assaulted his ears, tangy smoke that was more of the illegal than legal variety burned his nostrils, and the typical sounds of a rowdy biker bar on a Friday night hit him. As eyes turned his direction, his skin prickled.

He had to remind himself that the Knights weren’t rivals but instead more like allies. The Dirty Angels had no beef with them and he wanted to keep it that way.

A dark-skinned man almost his size suddenly blocked his way. Almost his size, but not quite. D had a good inch and about twenty pounds on him. But even so, he looked like a bad motherfucker that D wouldn’t want to be enemies with.

They clasped palms and bumped shoulders.

“Magnum,” D greeted.

“D,” was the grunt in response. He jerked his chin toward a corner in the bar. “Step into my office.”

D grunted in return and followed the large man, who was the Knights’ Sergeant at Arms, just like him.

They hit a table tucked in a corner, but one in a location where the whole bar could be watched. Magnum settled into a chair where his back was against the wall and his eyes scanned the bar before landing on D.

D pulled out a chair, swung it around and dropped his weight into it backwards, his arms resting along the chair back. He didn’t want to be caught between the table and his seat if anything went down. Not that he expected it to, but one never knew. Better to be ready to move, then get stuck. And fucked.

Magnum eyeballed him for a moment then lifted his large hand over his shoulder. A pretty dark-skinned woman with hair cropped close to her head, dark eyes and heavy tits barely contained in a tight tank top, approached the table.

Diesel’s eyes raked over her curves stuffed into tight short shorts and her long, endless legs with skin so smooth that they gleamed.

“Like what you see?”

D’s gaze fell back on Magnum. “Yeah.”

“Don’t mind sharin’ our women. ‘Specially if you like the chocolate variety.”

D glanced back at the woman who stood there patiently, wearing a welcoming smile. Normally with an offer like that, he’d say yes. Tonight he wasn’t feeling it. “Just a beer.”

Her eyes flicked to Magnum and so did his. The Knights’ enforcer gave her a slight nod and D watched her move as she headed back to the bar. The way her hips rolled, he guessed she’d be a pro at riding his cock.

“She’s good, brother.”

“You had her,” D stated.

“Yeah.”

“Then I can’t compete.”

Magnum threw his bald head back and laughed. When he finally sobered, he cocked a brow D’s way. “Don’t know. You’re a big fucker. Could be hung bigger than me.”

“Could be,” D replied. He leaned forward. “Not here to compare dick sizes.”

The laugh lines around Magnum’s dark eyes disappeared. “Yeah. Got that. Whataya here for?”

“Warriors.”

“Right, brother. Been keepin’ an eye out for those fuckers.”

“Got that an’ appreciate it.”

“We find ‘em, we’ll deliver ‘em to the Valley on a silver fuckin’ platter.”

“Got that, too.”

The woman came back, slid a frosted mug of beer in front of D, giving him another inviting smile as she did so, slid a bottle of beer in front of Magnum, then when the Knight waved his hand, she quickly, but with noticeable reluctance, disappeared.

A woman who didn’t give lip. D could appreciate that.

He turned his attention back to Magnum. “Got an event comin’ up.”

“’Nother fundraiser like Dogs & Hogs?”

The Knights were one of several clubs that had attended the fundraising event the DAMC held a couple months back. His brother, Hawk, and the club’s attorney, Kiki—now Hawk’s ol’ lady—had planned the event that benefited veterans with PTSD so his brother could work off the community service part of his sentence. He’d been thrown in jail after they had played with a few of the Warriors in South Side at an Irish pub.

And by played with he meant beat the fuck out of. Diesel had been arrested, too, but luckily his charges had been dropped. Hawk hadn’t been so lucky and did a ten-day stint in County. The only good thing that came out of it was him hooking up with his permanent piece, Kiki.

Of course, all the money they raised for the charity during the fundraiser was a bonus, too.

But the end of that event had turned into a complete clusterfuck when the Warriors tried to steal some of Kiki’s hard-earned donations.

“No,” D finally said. “Somethin’ else.”

Magnum raised a dark brow.

“A weddin’.”

Magnum leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “Yours?”

“Fuck no.”

A slow smile crossed Magnum’s face. “Ain’t a fool then.”

“Nope. Our former prez is marryin’ his ol’ lady.”

“Z, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Saw his ol’ lady at Dogs & Hogs. The sweet little baker. Can see why he’d wanna lock ‘er down.”

“Yeah.”

“Still don’t get why you’re here.”

“Need a favor.”

Magnum waited.

“Gonna be an outdoor weddin’. At a lake. Too much shit has gone down with the Warriors lately, an’ we’re all gonna be occupied with the formality of Z handin’ over his balls. Got my crew on tap to help keep a lookout, but need more eyes than that to keep shit safe.”

The Knight nodded, then reached for his beer bottle. He put it to his lips and drained half of it. “Take it inside,” Magnum suggested when he finally put the beer back on the table.

D shook his head. “Z’s ol’ lady’s got a dream. An’ it ain’t gettin’ married in a church. One with a steeple or the one attached to The Iron Horse.”

Magnum smirked. “Bitch got his balls in a vise, for sure.”

“Yeah.”

“Got it. Askin’ for our protection.”

“We’ll repay the marker when you need it.”

Magnum nodded. “To be expected. But, brother, why you here instead of your prez? Your prez should be talkin’ to ours.”

D took a sip of his beer, then another one before setting it back down on the scarred wooden table. The truth was their president, Pierce, was a dick. And the brothers were going to plan an upheaval sooner than later, but Diesel couldn’t admit what they were planning or even that there would be any shift in power. Any admittance of kinks in the chain of command would be a sign of weakness.

They also weren’t sure of when it was going to happen. Right now Z was concentrating on getting hitched, not taking back the head of the table. Once all the wedding shit was settled, they could move on to the next order of business.

They also needed to find and bury six-feet-under their former prospect Squirrel and this Black Jack. And any other Warrior they could get their hands on.

“Pierce’s occupied with some other shit right now. Got me handlin’ this.” Sort of a lie, sort of wasn’t. The man sitting across from him wasn’t going to know that either way.

“The redhead gonna be there?”

D cocked a brow in surprise. What the fuck was that about? “Ivy? Yeah.”

“That brother get her ass under control? If not, a few of my brothers want a shot at ‘er.”

Blood rushed into D’s ears. He needed to keep his shit together and do his best to not make enemies today. “Talkin’ ‘bout my cousin, brother.”

“Yeah, and?” Then Magnum smiled and D realized the man was busting his balls. Testing him.

“Right,” D grunted in relief.

Out of nowhere, a blonde white woman approached Magnum, wrapped her hand around the back of his neck, leaned over and kissed the top of his head.

“Talkin’ business here, woman,” Magnum grumbled but snaked his arm around her hips and pulled her tight against him. The man’s eyes landed on D. “Got an ol’ lady?”

“No.”

He tilted his head to his. “Good. Don’t. Pain in the fuckin’ ass. All of ‘em.”

The woman laughed, and said, “You got it good, ol’ man.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you got a temper an’ you like those angry fucks like that redheaded bitch.”

How Magnum knew that about his cousin, D didn’t know and didn’t want to know.

“Those are the best fucks,” the blonde said, her green eyes flashing a challenge.

D couldn’t agree with them because he never had one. All his fucks were easy, quick and disposable. To him, those were the best kind.

He didn’t need any drama in his life or in his bed.

“We done here?” Magnum asked.

“Yeah, if you’re in agreement.”

“Gotcha covered, brother. Give me the details when you got ‘em, an’ we’ll get your back.”

Diesel nodded. “Good.”

Magnum unfolded his big body out of his chair. “Stay, finish your beer. See somethin’ you like, let me know. Like I said, willin’ to share.” He steered his woman around with a hand spread along her lower back. Before he walked away, he tossed over his shoulder, “But we’ll expect the same courtesy.”

D didn’t like the sound of that at all. There was no way they were sharing their women with another club. Dark Knights or not.

Hell, it was bad enough that Axel, not only Z’s brother, a cop, and the VP of the Blue Avengers MC, was chasing Bella.

That wasn’t going to happen, either. Not as long as Diesel was breathing.

* * *

The brothers were spread out over the clubhouse courtyard. The night air was starting to cool down a bit since it was getting toward the end of summer. Jag, the Road Captain, had organized a run earlier in the day. Mama Bear and some of the sweet butts, as well as the prospects, had prepared the rest of the shit for tonight’s party. But the evening seemed a bit more on the mellow side and D wasn’t going to bitch.

Nash’s band, Dirty Deeds, seemed to be keeping their music on the more mellow side, also. Though, Dawg was out in the trampled grass by the light of the bonfire still finding the slow rock songs fast enough to bump and grind on some of his girls.

Some of the hang-arounds, guys that liked to hang with the brothers but who had no desire to prospect, were enjoying the attention of the strippers, too. They and the prospects were allowed to touch them. They couldn’t touch the sweet butts since those women were only available to the patched members and they definitely couldn’t touch any of the ol’ ladies. Not if they wanted to find themselves breathing the next day.

The band’s version of ZZ Top’s Rough Boy filled the courtyard.

Dex, the club’s secretary, was hanging onto one of the sweet butts named Tequila, a hand on one of her huge fake tits, and the other on her ass which hung out of her obscenely short cut-offs, as he ground against her while they swayed in a slow circle. Crash had his arms wrapped around one of Dawg’s new girls, one of the three strippers that D had kicked out of his room a week ago. The man had a wide grin on his face as he ground against her ass. And D was pretty sure he was sporting a boner.

Crash could have her. Dawg’s girls were a once and done for D. Once they started getting passed around, he wouldn’t touch them, with not only his own dick, but anyone else’s.

Dawg’s stable was large enough that he could have a full complement of dancers working the poles on a Saturday night at Heaven’s Angels Gentlemen’s Club and still bring the freshest, newest ones here to church parties as “entertainment.”

He noticed that Dawg hadn’t brought Goldie around lately. He wondered if he kicked the aging, well-ridden stripper to the curb finally. In the last year, the woman had become desperate to get her claws into one of the brothers, hoping to become a permanent piece. No brother in their right mind was putting her permanently on the back of his bike or in his bed.

Zak leaned into him, a bit blitzed. “Get any of the new girls?” He had a beer hanging between two fingers. It had to be at least his tenth by now.

Though, Z could normally put them away, he never drank to the point of losing his shit. So D could only chalk it up to pre-wedding jitters. Especially since the DAMC women were all inside church planning the big day. And scheming, of course, because bitches were always scheming.

Diesel followed Z’s gaze toward the strippers dancing by the band’s stage, which had become a permanent fixture in the yard. Some of the prospects had finally built something worth keeping up all year round.

“Yeah.” He twisted his head back toward his best friend and club brother. “Miss it?”

Z took another pull from his beer then shook his head. “Fuck no. Don’t need nobody else other than Sophie.”

“Bitch got your balls in a sling,” D grumbled.

Z wacked him on the back and laughed. “Don’t hear me bitchin’, do ya?”

No, he didn’t. D raised his own beer to his lips and let the cool brew slide down his throat. He scanned the courtyard again, looking for someone he could drain his nuts into. Wasn’t looking good. Nobody was catching his eye tonight.

For the past few nights, it had been just him and his palm. And they needed to break up.

Maybe he should’ve taken Magnum up on his offer last night.

He blew out a breath. Right.

Closing his eyes, he couldn’t get rid of the image of a naked Jewel that was burned into the back of his eyelids.

He pushed to his feet. He needed to find some fresh snatch right now and fuck that memory right out of his head.

“Where ya goin’?” Z asked, a slight slur in his question.

“Gonna hit the head,” he grunted.

Zak laughed, knowing exactly what that meant.

Diesel scanned the courtyard once more and his gaze landed on a female that he’d never seen before hanging by the fence near the beer kegs. He strode across the yard on a mission and within seconds, found himself staring down at the woman, taking a closer look.

She’d do.

“Hey,” she said, wearing a small smile. “I’m—”

“Don’t give a shit who you are. Who you with?”

“My girlfriend brought me—”

That was all he needed to hear.

She squeaked as D grabbed her wrist and tugged her along behind him toward the side door of the clubhouse.

“I, uh—” she started.

D stopped suddenly. He cupped his dick through his jeans. “Want it or not?”

“Uh...” her gaze dropped to his crotch. Then her eyes widened. “I... Sure,” she finally whispered.

With a nod, he continued his trek to the door with her in tow.

She was the complete opposite of Jewel, which was a relief. She was blonde, leggy, a bit on the thick side, and had huge tits. And at that moment, he could give a flying fuck if they were real or fake. He wasn’t planning to get to know her well enough to find out.

He yanked open the door and encouraged her to step inside when his hand shoved her ass. She stumbled to a stop just inside the door and he ran into her with a grunt. “To the left,” he directed.

Then he realized why she had stopped. She was staring at a group of women surrounding the bar, who were all staring back at them.

Jesus fuckin’ Christ.

“Hey,” she called out a weak greeting.

D groaned as some of the DAMC women answered her, wearing smirks.

Someone yelled, “Breaking the seal, D?”

Jesus.

“Think the room’s already occupied,” someone else called out, sounding a bit amused. It sounded a lot like Diamond, Jewel’s sister.

Right.

Ignoring them, he circled his fingers around the nameless woman’s bicep and steered her toward the restroom.

“Is your room this way?” she asked, surprised.

“Yep,” he grunted.

He grabbed the doorknob and before he could open it, she asked, “Why does it say ‘chicks’?”

He yanked open the door and stopped dead.

Jewel had her back to them and it looked like she was fastening her jeans. “Sorry,” she called out without turning around. “Didn’t lock the door. Come in, just gotta wash—” She finally twisted her head around and froze.

Her eyes widened. D’s narrowed.

And the blonde squirmed. “This is a bathroom,” she whispered.

Genius. But he didn’t need her for her brains, just...

“What the fuck?” Jewel shouted as she spun to confront him.

Jesus fuckin’ Christ, here comes the fuckin’ drama.

“What’s her name, D?”

D ground his teeth.

The blonde began, “It’s—”

He scowled down at her and she shut up.

“I should go,” she whispered. “I’m not really into hooking up in bathrooms.”

“No?” Jewel asked. “Diesel’s a pro at it. Aren’t you, D?”

D ground his teeth harder. So hard, he wouldn’t be surprised if he cracked a few.

“I should go,” the blonde repeated again and pulled her arm from his grasp.

“That would be smart,” Jewel advised, her eyes never leaving Diesel’s. “Unless you like the imprint of wall tiles on your ass.”

The blonde disappeared. He didn’t have to see her leave, he felt it.

She was gone and now it was just him and Jewel.

Her eyes snapped at him and so did her words. “Sorry I messed up your fucking date. I’m sure it was going to be meaningful and extremely romantic. She could’ve been the one.”

“Shut up, Jewel.”

“I offered myself up to you like a goddamn fool and you turned it down. You’d rather have any strange you can get against a bathroom wall instead.” She shook her head, her face flushed with anger. “Nothin’ but a goddamn beast,” she hissed.

Diesel twisted and slammed the door behind him. He punched the lock on the knob before twisting back to face Jewel.

“Fuckin’ call me that again,” he challenged her.

Her eyes flashed and her nostrils flared. “Fucking beast!” she shouted, her face twisting.

D lost his mind. Totally fucking lost his mind. Right there. Right then.

He jerked forward, grabbed her arm and shook her. “Wanna be like the rest of ‘em?” he growled in her face.

Jewel opened her mouth and nothing came out, her face suddenly pale.

“Wanna be like the rest of ‘em?” he repeated, much louder and so much more pissed this time. He spun her around to face the wall—the one he knew so well—and shoved her forward. She stumbled and caught herself on the wall with her palms.

He swore she whimpered but he didn’t give a shit. He was past giving a shit. Or even a flying fuck.

He was going to do what he’d been trying to avoid. But the damn woman needed a lesson. She needed to realize she wasn’t going to get what she was looking for with him.

“Pants off,” he barked. “Up against the wall.”

“D—”

“No, woman, this is what you wanted.”

“No.”

“Sure fuckin’ is. Kept pushin’ it, pushin’ me. Want it, gonna get it. Get your pants off. Now.”

Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her eyes looked wild, her face went from pale to flush in a heartbeat.

“D—”

“Shut up, woman, an’ take your pants off. Can’t fuck you against the fuckin’ wall when you’re wearin’ those fuckin’ jeans.”

With trembling fingers, she reached for the top button of her jeans.

D’s head spun. She was going to do it. She was going to let him do it.

Jesus fuckin’ Christ.

No.

No.

No.

He was not going to fuck her in this bathroom, against that wall, like any other piece of ass.

He wasn’t going to do it.

He needed to teach her a lesson, but not here. Not in this bathroom.

His mouth went dry and a sharp pain shot through his temple, and before he knew what he was doing, he had her thrown over his shoulder, was barreling out the door and across the common area of the clubhouse.

From a distance, he heard gasps, and both his and Jewel’s names being called. Worried voices. He ignored it all.

His heavy boots pounded up the steps to the second floor and then down the hall to his room.

As he dug into his jeans for his keys, he realized Jewel wasn’t struggling at all. She wasn’t fighting, she wasn’t bitching. She was too quiet.

His heart thudded in his chest as he unlocked his door, kicked it open, took a step inside, kicked it shut, then slid the bolt lock home.

Within two strides, he had her tossed onto the bed where she bounced, all of her dark hair flying about wildly. Her eyes were focused on him, as he remained standing at the end of the bed.

Jesus. He needed to save himself and leave like the last time he carried her upstairs. He needed to do that before there was no going back.

Before he got past that point of no return.

Without a word, she got to her knees and pulled her DAMC tank top over her head, then she reached behind her to unclip the black lacy bra she wore.

When her tits were free, she unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans. She tugged off her sandals and tossed them onto the floor, then laying back on his bed—his bed—she shimmied out of her jeans and panties.

And all that time, he remained frozen in place, watching her tear each piece of clothing off until she was fully naked in his bed.

“Woman, you don’t know what you’re doin’,” he finally muttered through clenched teeth.

“The fuck I don’t,” she lay on his bed, propped up by his pillows and cupped her tits, thumbing her own nipples, “beast.”

D’s nostril’s flared and he ripped off his cut, tossing it to the side. His eyes never left her as her fingers slid down her belly to her cunt and she slipped two fingers along the slit of her pussy.

Jesus fuckin’ Christ.

His chest felt as if it had caved in, but he yanked his shirt over his head. Bending over, he unzipped his boots and toed them off. He ripped off his jeans and socks at the same time then straightened, his cock in his hand.

He closed his eyes for a second as he stroked it, but for that whole second he was thinking what a huge mistake this was.

There was no going back from this.

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

The reminder didn’t help as he put a knee onto the bed making it sink under his weight.

He was going to do this.

They were going to do this.

There was no going back.

“Show me,” he grunted.

The fingers she had in her cunt scissored to show him how slick and pink her center was.

“Show me,” he grunted again.

Her fingers disappeared inside herself and she moved them rapidly, her other hand joining in, her thumb circling her clit. She was shaved bare and he hated that on women since it made them look like a little girl. And she was far from a little girl. He needed to tell her about that.

His thoughts quickly fled as her hips rose off the mattress as she fucked herself with her own fingers, her face flush and her lips parted as she whimpered. Her head rolled back and she cried out as her hands began to move at a frenzied pace.

His chest heaved as he struggled to breathe while watching her. He never saw anything so beautiful before.

Never.

Jesus.

And he hadn’t even touched her, yet. He realized he was squeezing his dick so hard that it was turning purple and the veins were bulging. He released the pressure and slid his palm up and down his length as Jewel’s hips shot off the bed again.

She groaned, moaned and when little mews escaped her, he could hardly hold himself back any longer.

But he wanted to watch her come first.

And when she did, he just about lost his shit.

She even called his fucking name when she came.

Before she was even done with her orgasm, he was up and over her, driving his cock deep.

Then he stilled once he was fully seated inside her.

His mind swirled, his body tensed, and he couldn’t believe how warm, wet and tight she felt.

“Woman,” he grunted, shoving his face into her thick hair and inhaling her scent.

There was no going back from this.

He was careful to keep the majority of his weight off of her as he began to move, slowly at first, marveling at how she squeezed him tight. Her legs circled his waist and she tilted her hips, giving him a better angle to hit that right spot. The one that made her wetter with each thrust.

“Diesel.”

He lifted his head and stared into her blue eyes. Slightly unfocused, their intensity could still be felt all the way deep into his soul.

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

Mine. She’s mine. She’s fuckin’ mine.

She’s mine. Makin’ her mine an’ only mine.

He grunted as she whimpered with each pump of his hips. He ground deep and she took every inch of him without complaint. Her nails raked his ass, her teeth scraped the strained cords of his neck, his back flexed as he curled over her as he thrusted over and over.

Everything fell away until there was nothing but her underneath him, encouraging him to make her come. And he did just that. More than once. Every ripple, every squeeze along his dick, made him want to give her more, make her come once more. Just once more.

He wanted to feel her come again. And again. He wanted this to be endless.

Their bodies were slick with both their sweat and her juices as she kissed along his shoulders before sinking her teeth in hard.

He groaned into her mouth when he took it, claiming that part of her, too.

Every inch, every curve, every digit, every strand of hair was now his.

He lost his sense of time because he couldn’t get enough.

“I was right... you are a beast,” she breathed. “You gotta come, D. I can’t take much more.”

He wasn’t done. He’d never be done.

Pushing his weight into his hands, he dropped his head until he was face to face with her, their eyes locked. “Gonna come inside you.”

“Yes,” she hissed.

“Want that?”

“Yes.”

“Makin’ you mine.”

“Yes,” she answered on a ragged breath.

He tensed, his balls pulled up and with a loud grunt, he spilled everything he had inside her.