“But why me?” I ask, clutching my mug in front of me like it’s a shield. “The Iron Diablos must have tons of enemies.”

The male cop, who introduced himself as Officer Dennison, just shrugs.

“Perhaps this is a straw-that-broke-the-camel’s-back situation,” he says.

“Our informant in the Diablos tells us that Eugene Thiel — that’s Viper — has been increasingly unstable as of late,” Officer Brazza says, her voice low and soothing. “He doesn’t know why, but he does know that Mr. Thiel is very dangerous right now. I’m afraid you picked the wrong time to turn him down.”

“You mean he picked the wrong time to proposition me,” I say hotly. “I was just eating a cheeseburger.”

“Of course,” Officer Brazza says. “Sorry.”

Before I can ruminate any further on why anyone’s acting like this is my fault, Jax puts one big hand on my knee, squeezing it reassuringly.

“Ruby will need protection,” he says.

The officers nod.

“She’s staying here,” Jax goes on.

I turn my head incredulously. It’s a nice offer, and God knows I’d like to finish what we started earlier, but I can’t stay here. Jax has already protected me enough — I can’t ask him to put himself in danger any more than he already has.

“I can’t,” I tell him. “I’ll go home, they’ll put an officer outside my dad’s house —”

“No,” he says flatly.

I raise both my eyebrows at him, taken aback. Jax’s frown deepens.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he goes on, his voice gentler now. “I know the Iron Diablos, because I pour their whiskey and listen to their bullshit every night. I know how they operate, and most importantly, I know how to take any of them down.”

I look away, worrying my lip.

“Besides, they don’t know you’re here,” Jax says.

“They could have followed us from the hospital,” I point out.

“They didn’t,” he says. “If they had, do you think we’d be having this conversation right now?”

He has a point.

“I guess not,” I say, acquiescing. “But…”

I trail off, because I don’t really have any good arguments, even though I get distracted by the fact that the Diablos are apparently still out to get me, just because I turned down an offer of gross bathroom sex from one of their members.

Besides, there’s one more very good argument in favor of me staying here, and it’s the slowly dulling ache between my legs, driving me almost to distraction. I feel like I still haven’t fully realized what’s going on, partly because I’m finding it hard to think about anything but Jax, on the bed, between my legs as he flicked his tongue lazily over my clit…

“Do you know how long I’ll be staying here?” I ask the officers, who shake their heads.

“Not long,” the man says. “We’ve got some good leads on Thiel already.”

As soon as the police leave, Jax shuts the door, then takes my face in both his face and looks deeply into my eyes. I tilt my face up so he can kiss me, but for a long moment, all he does is look at me.

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you, Ruby,” he says. “I swear it.”

I put my hands over his so our fingers are intertwined.

“I know you won’t,” I say, because I believe him, and I believe that no matter what happens, I’m safe here with this man.

He kisses me deeply, his tongue exploring my mouth and probing at my own. We kiss for a long time, hands and fingers intertwining, leaving me utterly breathless by the time he’s finished.

“Now that’s settled,” he says, the hint of a smile returning to his face. “I believe we have unfinished business.”

Before I can even think, he’s picked me up and slung me over his shoulder, and he takes me back into the bedroom and tosses me on the bed.

Then I come twice on his tongue and once on his fingers before he lets me anywhere near his magnificent cock.

We don’t hear from the police again that day. Grandma Flo is released from the hospital and goes to stay with my dad, and they’re both still worried about me, but the police reassure them I’m in the best hands possible.

Which is true.

I don’t know what’s come over me, but I can’t stop touching Jax. It’s like the danger of being ambushed at Grandma’s house released some sort of insatiable need deep inside me, and I just happened to get stuck with him.

The thing is, he doesn’t seem to mind. A few hours after he eats me out when the police leave, he hoists me onto the kitchen counter and does it again.

It’s even better the second time.

I fall asleep easily that night, in Jax’s bed, Jax’s arms around me. It’s completely quiet except for the hush of the wind through the pine trees that surround his cabin — different from the suburban noises of my dad’s house. It seems like back home there’s always someone revving an engine or a dog barking, but here it’s utterly peaceful and still.

I could get used to this. All of it.

In the morning, I wake up before the sun rises. One minutes I’m deeply asleep, not even dreaming, and the next, bam. Fully awake, like it’s ten in the morning and I’ve already had a double-shot espresso on the way to my first class.

I roll over, stretching. Jax is still next to me, one huge hand on my stomach, still asleep, his face softer now, his eyes flicking back and forth beneath his eyelids.

I examine him for a long, long moment in the gray not-yet-sunrise light. I can already pick out a few silver streaks through his hair and beard, a few shallow lines around his eyes.

None of it makes him any less handsome. If anything, it makes him look… dignified, weathered. Rugged.

Frankly, it’s kind of hot. I have no idea how old Jax is and I’ve never asked — until yesterday, he was just someone I saw every so often, someone who I had wild, won’t-ever-happen fantasies about.

You didn’t tell him you were a virgin, I think.

Something tightens in my stomach. It’s not that I mind being a virgin — I just haven’t had sex yet, it’s no big deal — but I don’t really know if someone like Jax is going to be interested. I’m sure he’s more experienced than me, but what if he doesn’t want to have to show me the ropes?

I sit up slowly. Even though I’m not normally a morning person, right now I’m already too awake to stay in bed, so I get up quietly, put on yesterday’s shirt and walk to the kitchen.

Standing there, looking around at his somewhat minimal kitchen supplies, I have an idea.

Pancakes.

I’ll make pancakes.

I freely admit to not being the world’s greatest cook — okay, I’m probably in the bottom third of cooks, if we’re being honest — but any idiot can make pancakes, right? It’s just… flour and eggs and stuff all mixed together and tossed onto the stove.

Luckily, before disaster can strike too hard, I find a box of pancake mix in Jax’s cupboard. It’s got very explicit instructions on the back, so ten minutes later I’m happily mixing it together with some eggs and water — Jax is out of milk — and then rummaging through his cupboards for a skillet to cook pancakes in.

I find one. It’s square, which is weird, but I shrug and put it on the stove, turning the burner onto the lowest setting.

Then I take a deep breath and ladle a spoonful of pancake batter into the skillet.

Absolutely nothing happens. I frown at the batter, the stove, and the skillet all at once because I’m pretty sure it should be making a noise, or steaming, or… I don’t know. Something.

But instead the batter is spreading out very, very slowly, until it covers the bottom of the skillet in a thin layer.

Yeah, I’m pretty sure I did something wrong. Instead of a pancake, I seem to have a flat, square lake of raw batter that shows no signs whatsoever of transformation.

I’m so absorbed in this problem that I don’t even hear the bedroom door open — either that, or Jax is very sneaky, because when he suddenly wraps his arms behind me from behind, I yelp.

“You sneaked out of my bed,” he rumbles, his bearded face nuzzling my neck.

“You sneaked up on me in the middle of making breakfast,” I counter, gesturing at the square lake in front of me.

Jax makes a noise low in his throat, one hand absent-mindedly caressing my hip.

“Is that what’s going on?” he finally asks.

I frown at the lake.

“It’s a pancake,” I say, a mite defensively. “Or, at least it will be really soon.”

“Sure,” he says, pressing closer against me. He’s got on nothing but plaid pajama pants, his thick arms bare. As he pulls me in his erection bumps against my lower back, and instinctively, I grind against it.

All I’m wearing is one of his enormous t-shirts and a pair of panties. Jax kisses my neck again, my eyelids fluttering closed as his hand dips below the hem of the shirt I’m wearing and skims up my thigh, his fingers just barely dipping below the band of my panties.

“I’ve got a better idea for breakfast,” he murmurs duskily in my ear.