Rusty woke the next morning crumpled and tense. Rocco had slapped him on the shoulder and congratulated him on his restraint. Punching Grim in the stomach like that, with two other guys holding him hadn’t felt very restrained, but then Grim’s punch to his jaw had been a long way from controlled. If he hadn’t seen the glimmer of danger in the bar with the Hell’s boys ready to take his brother down, Rusty might have done a lot worse. But while Grim was a complete fuck, he didn’t deserve to end up broken, and that’s what would have happened if Rusty’d let the Hell’s boys loose on him last night.

Martinez had promised he’d made it clear to the Reapers that it wasn’t Rusty at the bottom of their leaks and Rusty would just have to trust that they took him at his word. He’d tried to drink his brother’s deceitful barbs away, and it had worked, for a while. But now, with his head pounding, his jaw throbbing, and staring down the barrel of a full day of work, those bourbon chasers didn’t look quite as appealing. When he stumbled into the kitchen he couldn’t even manage to work the coffee machine, it kept swaying away from him.

Then there was Beth. Showered and dressed, she looked about ten times more ready for the day than he thought he’d ever be. She caught sight of him and from the twist of her mouth, it looked like she agreed. “You remember what day it is, right?”

Rusty checked his watch. “The fifth.”

“And I thought this pilot was your baby.”

The bourbon fog lifted and he remembered why he’d drunk it all in the first place. The three reasons. The first was standing in front of him, hair spiraling into a halo that was just asking for a guy like him to wind his fingers through. The second was that they were meeting with the producer today. And the third had been standing in front of him at Wilde’s. Grim’s callous disregard for his business, his history, and his honor cut him deeper than he realized. Who sold out family like that? And asking him to take on Grim’s fuckups not once but twice . . . ? Rusty shook his head. But the stupidest thing was the part that seemed furthest out of Grim’s grasp: playing around with biker loyalty never got anyone any friends, and no matter what Grim thought he was doing, trying to get an MC crew to give Rusty a “friendly warning” was not what the Reapers did. Not back in Illinois, not anywhere.

When his brother left the bar, Rusty had knocked back a line of shots and kept going. Now he felt them trying to climb back out of his stomach.

“I’ll make coffee and eggs. You load up the pilot. Dave is coming in an hour so if there are any glaring issues we have time to change them as long as they’re small. It’ll take too long to fix otherwise. Or that’s what Dave said. We need to be downtown with the final version by two p.m.”

With his laptop plugged into the big screen in his living room and blowing the steam off his coffee, Rusty surreptitiously crossed his fingers that the pilot was great. Hell, he’d take it being good, so long as it ticked the right boxes the producer needed and got made. Grim could get fucked; he wasn’t going to turn his back on his dreams again just because his brother wanted him to.

“Ready?”

He nodded and Beth pressed play. For twenty minutes he chuckled, nodded, and smiled through the footage. It wasn’t just good, it was really great, and Dave had been right when he said Beth was a natural. While she had planned the whole thing meticulously, what he saw on-screen seemed entirely without artifice. The guys in the shop seemed natural, pumped about their work, and the bikes, man, whatever Dave had done with the lighting made them look magic.

And then there was Beth. He stole a look at her, sitting next to him, a frown on her face and a pen in her hand as she watched with a much more critical eye than she probably needed to. Then he heard his voice through the speakers.

“Not that bad, was it?”

On-screen Beth looked up into his eyes and Rusty could have drowned in the shade of green that practically filled the TV. Her hip rested against the bike, her finger coiled in her messy hair and she was looking at him like . . . like she was not thinking about his brother.

“ . . . I’m a terrible passenger, I know.”

“Hardly.”

“It’s okay. I trust you.”

Rusty sat back on the sofa. That was . . . what was that? When he turned, Beth was looking at him cautiously. “Dave kept the camera rolling; I didn’t script it. But Dave says it’s good. Says that we should play on the two of us building something to heighten the drama. That the network execs will lap it up, whether the connection is real or not.”

“Oh, okay. Right. That’s probably a good idea.” So, was what he’d seen real or not? Or had she been putting on a show? Do you want it to be real? The pilot kept playing out in front of him so he paused it.

“What do you think? Do we leave it in or take it out? I wouldn’t want to give your brother the idea that we are a thing.”

It felt like a slap in the face, even though they weren’t a thing. Not even close. “But we’re not a thing. You’re an actress, it’s what you do.”

She smiled shyly. “Right. Great. Dave is totally right. Having a little girl-meets-boy drama in amongst all the bikes does bring it to life.”

Rusty’s chest tightened and an ache set up shop behind his ribs but he straightened, rubbing at his temples to dissipate the last of his hangover. “Of course. If you and Dave think it’s the right thing to do.”

“Absolutely,” she said and when he pressed play again they both sat back awkwardly on the sofa.

Dave arrived and they worked through a few tiny tweaks that seemed to take no time at all and at the same time took hours and hours. Then one thirty arrived and Rusty’s stomach tried valiantly to tie itself in a complicated sailing knot.

And then they were across town and through the giant glass doors of a production house and up an elevator and sitting in a bright white waiting room where Rusty felt about as polished and prepared as a used sparkplug.

“Ohmygod. You’re doing the talking, right? Or should I? We should have rehearsed this,” Beth whispered. She was even more nervous than he was, he realized, and it somehow made him calmer.

“I’ll introduce you. It’s not a pitch, remember. He’s already on board. This is a client. We’re showing him the pilot and answering his questions.”

“Yes. You’re right. We’ve got this.” She grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze. It felt like he was back on-screen. Beth leaning against a bike in front of him, her eyes holding his and promising to make everything better. Rusty shook his head. She was being encouraging, supportive. That was all.

“I should be better at this. I’ve done so many auditions. But look at me, I’m a mess.”

He turned from where he was sitting on the white padded bench seat to face her square on. “No, you’re not. You’re great. Whatever happens, I want to say thank you. You’ve been amazing. Getting this idea off the ground, getting everyone in the workshop on board, I couldn’t have done it without you.”

The grin was fully formed, warmer than the smiles she’d given him while they were watching the pilot. Every part of his body wanted to cross the line he’d drawn in the sand. To take her face in his hands and steal the breath from her mouth. But she nodded and asked, “Ready?”

Ready? He thought about his conversation with Grim. Screw him. It was his turn to get something he wanted for a change. “Ready.”

Then they were ushered inside and Beth was laughing and patting the producer on the shoulder. And they were watching the pilot, and the producer was laughing in all the right places, and Beth was still smiling, and pointing out little tidbits of detail and the producer was smiling. Smiling and slapping Rusty on the back.

“I have to say when Rusty first pitched it to me I was skeptical. Another bike show was what I thought. And Rusty knows how I love bikes. But this is great. You’re fantastic,” he said, nodding at Beth who ducked her eyes coltishly.

“Thanks. We’ve worked really hard on it. Couldn’t have done it without Beth though.”

“I bet. So, the two of you . . . ?”

“Oh, no,” Beth jumped in. “We’re colleagues.”

“Perfect. Great. And where did Rusty find you?”

Rusty watched Beth bite her lip, looking for an answer. “She knows my brother,” he put in.

“Oh, of course.” The producer beamed, a broad lascivious grin that Rusty wasn’t quite sure about. “Well, folks, I think what we have here is what I’d call a winner. You’ve got it all: sexy bikes, sexy babes, and a few laughs. How many episodes did you say you can plan?”

Beth jumped in. “There are eight clients who have volunteered their bikes to be involved, and all of them have an interesting story or a high profile, so it’s screen-worthy. Plus, we want to do the ‘pimp my ride’ episode where we refurbish a bike for someone in the community that’s been doing great work. Including the pilot, that makes ten episodes.”

The producer put a hand to his chin. “And you have them outlined?”

“We have a one-pager for each,” Beth said with more confidence than Rusty felt. She reached for a folder in her bag and handed the nine neatly typed pages to the producer. He looked over her head at Rusty. “You’ve found yourself a good one here. She’s going to go far. Ever thought of doing any production work? We could use someone like you here.”

Beth laughed along but Rusty could see she was pleased. Her shoulders relaxed and she released the strand of hair she’d been playing with.

He stood up and Beth bounced up with him. “I can keep this copy? I want to show it to the sales team here. We’ll pitch it to the networks next week. There are a shit-ton of hoops to jump through to get this made, but I really think you’ve got something here. Let’s make it happen.”

Beth put out her hand and he shook it vigorously. He led them to the door and it took Rusty a moment to register that the meeting was over. And then they were back out in the white waiting room and the elevator and on the street with the bright sunlight of the afternoon on their faces.

Beth turned to Rusty, her eyes bright, the smile on her face bigger than he’d ever seen it.

“Did you hear him?”

He nodded. “Come on. We need a drink.”

They found a downtown bar that served champagne and Beth was in heaven. Then when it got late and he got tired of the city types giving his jacket a nervous once-over, he loaded Beth into a taxi and took her back to the workshop.

Beth practically bounced up the stairs in front of him and when they pushed through to the apartment she flopped on the sofa with a satisfied sigh. Only to stand up again and start pacing the living room.

He followed her in and stood in the doorway. “Hey, you’re making me dizzy.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I’m feeling dizzy. I mean, do you remember what he said? He said we had something.”

Finally, Rusty allowed himself to let the day’s result out like the cheap champagne bubbles he’d been burping all afternoon. He swept Beth up in his arms and spun her round. “You did it,” he said. “You pulled that all together and he lapped it up, did you see him? You’re amazing. Just amazing.”

She threw her arms around his neck. “We did it,” she replied.

He nodded and his world shrank. All that filled his vision were green eyes. Beth’s green eyes. They were bright and shone from something inside that held more good and pride and hope and life than he could remember seeing since his folks had died. She had brought his idea to life and made it a reality.

“We make a pretty great team,” she said and smoothed her hands over his shoulder blades.

“In so many ways,” he said.

She nodded and in her nod he thought he saw something more. That she felt a flicker of what he felt, that she wanted them to be more than a working team. That the night they’d almost spent together had lingered in her mind as much as it had in his. Her hands moved from his shoulder blades up to toy with the long hair at the nape of his neck. She never took her eyes off his.

Then all of a sudden, his mouth was on hers and he was kissing her, kissing her like he had when she slid into his bed. He pushed her up against the wall and relished the feel of her full, warm body beneath his.

“We shouldn’t,” she said and he stopped himself but didn’t release her from the wall.

“But we both want to. We’ve wanted to from the beginning.” He ran his hand up her side and she shuddered and then she was back at his mouth.

She chose me. His heart cheered as she curled her fingers tightly through the hair at the back of his neck. Even when she was crushed against his body, her warmth transferring to his skin. Even while her mouth was under his and she wasn’t coming up for air.

He walked them into his bedroom and kicked the door shut. For a second his brain raised a red flag that she’d been on a date with his brother a couple nights before. But it was a pretty poor attempt at distraction. Rusty blinked once and it was gone. And then Beth’s fingers were at his shirt buttons and he set her down on the bed and his shirt was off and her shirt was too and her bra was somewhere behind him on the floor and . . . oh, man.

“You’re glorious.” Her skin was as pale as moonlight and the way her hair tumbled down over her incredible breasts framed them in a way that made his hands almost shake with the want to hold them.

“You’re not too shabby yourself. Come here.”

This was new. This was the Beth that he’d first met. The one who knew what she wanted and how she was going to get it. But that Beth had thought he was Grim. This Beth looked him in the eye when she spoke and knew exactly who he was.

Climbing onto the bed with her, he nudged her backward so she lay back, her hair spreading out over the pillow. “You have no idea, do you?” He growled at her, then he couldn’t stop himself—he took one of her perfect breasts into his mouth and luxuriated over the soft, plump flesh.

She arched her back up to him and he felt her hands at his belt buckle. She slid his zipper carefully down then slipped his briefs down. He released her breast and gasped at the contact of her cold fingers on his hot skin. “This time I want to see you. And for you to see me. No secrets. No surprises. Deal?”

She nodded and ran her fingers up his chest. Lying below him, her face open, her eyes gazing up at him, she was everything his dreams had conjured. But the real-life Beth Ravens was even better, she was stripped bare and her eyes were alive with lust, all of it trained on him.

“I want to take it slow. To taste every part of you,” he said.

“And I want to have you now.” She pulled his head toward her and the kiss almost dissolved his resolve. Her mouth was hot, and sweet, like iced tea, and her tongue dared him to let go, to lose himself in her. When she wove her hands through his hair he almost did but he managed to push up on his hands and take a long shuddering breath. He sat back on his knees to keep himself out of reach. “You are going to end me if you kiss me like that again.”

“Good. Come back here.”

“No.” he lowered his head to brush her nipple with his lips. She shuddered and reached for him but he took hold of her hands and pushed them back over her head. “Am I going to have to tie you up?”

That quietened her. “Is that what you want? For me to be compliant?”

“What I want,” he said, tracing the spot on the side of her breast that made her shudder deliciously. “Is to make you come so hard you see stars. I want to be the name on your tongue. To be the one whose bed you remember climbing into forever.”

Her smile was coy, but she was pleased by his answer, he could tell by the way she bit her lip and by the flash of hunger that passed over her eyes. Trailing his finger, he circled her entire breast. So soft. But soft didn’t even begin to cover it. Her skin was powdery, velvety, perfect. Soft was an entirely inadequate expression for what she was.

He bent and kissed the underside of her breast, then the other, and she gasped so hard it made his chest tighten. Leaving a trail of kisses down her chest, he scooted back on his knees until he was at her feet and only then did he allow himself to touch her with his hands. Pushing her legs open, he gazed a moment at her lush center. “I bet you taste as delicious as you look.” She squirmed but he held her firmly and kissed a trail up her inner thigh.

“Oh.” This gasp was sharper so he kissed her again, and then licked, a long, languid line in between her folds. Beth arched up and her gasp turned to a moan, but he wanted more than that, he wanted to make her scream.

Her hands now free to do as they pleased, she wound them through his hair. No longer determined to pull him up her body, she guided his caresses, and he found a rhythm that sent her writhing toward his mouth.

Giving up any teasing, he slipped a finger inside her, even as he sent his tongue along the seam of her body. When he circled the hard nub of her clit, she pulled his hair tight, sending hot cravings through his body from the roots of his hair to his balls.

He added another finger and looked up, watching her face as he slid in and out of her wet pussy. Her head was back, her eyes closed, and while he could see the tension gripping the muscles in her thighs, she’d spread her legs wide to give him more access. To let him in. To let him have her. He could have shattered her right there, he could feel her tightening inside, her muscles gripping his fingers. But he didn’t want that. He wanted this to be the best sex she’d ever had. He wanted to own her.

Twisting his finger, he searched for the soft spot behind her mons and stroked there, stretching her, deepening his ministrations.

“So good,” she managed. There it was, the change in texture of her flesh. He pressed his fingers against it and used his mouth on her clit at the same time. “Holy crap. Don’t stop. Rusty. Oh.” Her fingers twisted harder in his hair and she pulled him closer to her body. Cock throbbing, his whole body aching for her, it was all he could do not to rip her hands from his head and thrust himself deep inside her, but instead he worked her harder, deeper, ’til she was shaking, her waist writhing, her hips bucking as she came. “Rusty.”

He left his fingers inside her ’til she calmed and then slowly, slowly withdrew. The air hissed out of her as her sensitive center released him. Kissing her thighs before he crawled up her body, he smiled as he saw her face. Her eyelids still fluttered, her chest rose and fell, and the bright rose-flush of orgasm had pinked up her décolletage. Those breasts, those legs, her full, soft stomach, her skin. His fingers itched for all of it.

“You look like you could keep doing that all day.”

His eyes flicked up to her face at the question. “I could,” he replied.

She was still satiated, her eyes wide, her lips pump and pink. But she looked more like a cat that had licked up her milk and now wanted a full bowl of ice cream than someone who was done. In answer, she pushed him over onto his back and climbed on top of him. He only had enough time to roll on a condom he’d stashed in his bedside cabinet before she’d slid all the way down him.

She. Was. Perfect.

Hands on her hips, he led her gently up and down his rock-hard cock, but with her inhibitions released by her orgasm, it seemed Beth was determined to make him lose his mind. Pulling at his hands, she pushed them over his head. “My turn.”

“Yes, ma’am.” With her leaning over him he got to watch her breasts move against his body, got to watch her face as she rode his cock, deep, so deep he couldn’t believe she didn’t cry out. If it could have lasted all day he would have sold his shop, hell, even his bike, and lived in the heaven that was Beth Ravens riding him. But all too soon he felt his balls tighten and his breath catch.

She felt it too. “Coming with me?” She was tightening too, he realized. And then he was there, he was spiraling and her velvet center was stroking him harder as she kept riding him, milking him.

For a moment he couldn’t see. Couldn’t talk. Couldn’t breathe. Then the air rushed into his lungs, and the furniture started coming back into focus. She tumbled off of him and they lay side by side. Panting, breathless. Both lost to the sensations they’d shared. They dozed. Slept. Woke and made love all over again.

When the first strands of sunlight started creeping under the curtains, Rusty was tired and sore in a way he hadn’t been in years. In the best way. Tucked into each other, neither of them had the words to say where they’d been but they didn’t need to. Rusty could feel the shift. He trusted her. She trusted him. He’d set out to own her, and had come down the other side lost in her instead.

When the light grew stronger and he finally resurfaced from their bliss-bubble, he rolled onto his side and watched her. Running a finger down her cheek, Rusty let himself ask the words that had been tugging at his throat. “What next?”

She blinked slowly before she rolled back over to look him in the eye. “I don’t know what next. Not about us. This was never supposed to happen.”

“This?” He pointed at the clothes strewn around the room. “Or this?” And he put a hand over her heart so he could feel it beating under his fingers.

“Neither of them.”

He nodded and a small knot formed in his chest. If she’d put her fingers there, the beat would have been tighter, bound up by the fear of what she might say next.

“But it did.” He said it as gently as he could so he didn’t scare her away.

She nodded and he let out a small smile. “I don’t know what happens next between us. But I know that I don’t want this to be a one-off. Whatever this is, it’s bigger than us. Do you feel that?” Her finger trailed his chest as she spoke and he caught it to stop himself from getting distracted again. This was important. This conversation. Perhaps the most important conversation he’d had in a long time. He nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

“Maybe what we saw on-screen was real after all. Dave saw it, the producer saw it, why didn’t we?”

“Because we couldn’t,” he managed. “It made everything too hard.”

“True.”

“You have a gift.” He said it more fiercely than he’d intended but he meant every word. “You deserve to have the world see you on the big screen. And the little screen. You should be bigger than this, bigger than all of us.” He didn’t say my brother included, but he wanted to. Wanted her to acknowledge that Grim wasn’t the hero she’d painted him to be. Instead he leaned over and ran his lips over hers. The light contact with her mouth ran shudders down his spine all over again. She pulled back and laughed. “We can’t do this all day.”

“Who says? I could let you ride me all day and all night.” He raised an eyebrow and she batted him off. She was suddenly somber.

“I have to talk to your brother.”

He froze. No, you don’t. Don’t ever talk to him again. Promise me.

She bit her lip and he wanted to take her teeth away and kiss her plump pink mouth better. He paused to let her work out what to say next. Hoping she saw the world as he did. Hoping she’d seen that her dream of a life with Grim wasn’t as rosy as she’d once hoped. But he knew it was a big dream, one that might still hold a slender glimmer of hope even thought she’d just slept with him. So he stayed quiet, still, didn’t push her in case he frightened her away.

She took a breath and spoke, barely louder than a whisper. “I don’t want to be with him anymore.”

If he could have jumped off the bed and run a circle around the room, fist pumping as he went, Rusty would have. But he clenched his teeth together and gave her even more time.

“I am going to need him in my life though. He promised to help me out and I need people like him on my side. You understand that, right?”

“Sure.” He didn’t, but for her he would suck it up and try.

“Okay. Well, I guess we really should get up.” Her phone pinged and he waved at her to get it. “See. I must have sensed it coming,” she said and scrabbled in her jeans for her phone then clambered back into bed. The messy frown on her face lifted as he watched. “Oh my god!”

“Oh your god good?”

“Oh my god fantastic.”

He waited until she’d finished rereading the text.

“Grim says his director wants me to audition for a part in the film he’s in. They’re casting now, this morning! How amazing is that?”

The knot that had been loosening, suddenly turned from rope to crumbling concrete, bits breaking off and making Rusty’s insides ache. But it was okay. She’d just said she wasn’t going to be with Grim. Still, didn’t mean he couldn’t be pissed that his brother had any part in Beth’s life. “Amazing.”

She stopped bouncing and ran a hand down his face. Her voice softened. “This might actually be happening. Be happy for me.”

“I am. You know I am.”

Her smile was so warm he wanted to pull her down and bury himself in her all over again but she rolled out of bed and he had a chance to admire her gorgeous curves before she grabbed her clothes and held them in a bundle in front of her. “I’m going to shower. I have to meet Grim in an hour. But then I’ll be back.”

“You’ll talk to him. About us?”

She nodded. “Wish me luck.”

“Good luck,” Rusty said. “For everything.” But as she left the room, he couldn’t help the small, petty part of himself that wished she wouldn’t get the part. That she would stay and make the TV show with him. And what? That you’ll ride off into the sunset together? Yeah, right. Girls like Beth didn’t stick around guys like him for long. She was going places. But once his show was up and running, maybe he would be too.