Oz kisses away my confidence, leaving me wondering what the hell I’m doing here with him. The butterflies in my stomach might as well belong to a stranger.

I don’t swoon. I can’t lose my mind over a guy. Even my stalker behavior with Madden only managed to slightly inconvenience me. I never even shed a tear when we ended things. I’m not someone capable of losing herself over a man.

Pushing him away, I stare into his dark, dominating eyes, and wish I could give in to their demands. Why should I think when he can do it for me?

Oz is the kind of man I’ve never faced. No, that’s probably not true. I’ve met men who exuded alpha with their every breath. Those fuckers were threats, though, and I rid the world of them. When faced with a man like Oz, I don’t take any chances. If I can’t out-alpha someone, I end them.

Now I’m faced with a man I can’t destroy. Worse, I don’t want to ruin this fucker. He’s irresistible, and the world is a helluva lot sexier with him in it.

But none of his charms excuse my complete lack of self-control or how I underestimated his power over me.

Setting the tempo with the food and location, I thought I was in charge when Oz showed up. I wanted him, and I would play the game until I felt he’d earned the right to fuck me. Then I’d conned myself at some point into thinking he and I were really dating. Oz and Ginger sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g and all that crap. All that’s left is for me to write his name on my school notebook.

Who am I to play this game? I’d never been a fool before. Every wound I suffered came from a calculated decision to take the blade. With Oz, I lack the control to even realize I fooled my heart into hoping for something I can never have. There is no marriage and baby carriage in my future. I’m a lot of things, but that kind of woman isn’t one of them.

I should never have told him about my family or Madden. The man is a pig-headed filthy-mouth speed bump sitting between me and my goals. Handing him ammo to use against me was a mistake. Oh, and I mentioned the dirty feeling I had when Duffy was born. What the fuck, Ginger? Why not just hand him over your dignity while you’re at it?

I need to get away from him and stay away. Yet I let the kiss deepen and linger. I lean into his embrace. Not once do I think to smack away his hand when it settles on my left ass cheek.

My brain screams for me to take control and set boundaries. My heart begs me to stop running down a path I’m emotionally ill-equipped to handle. My ego promises I have shit handled as usual, and I shouldn’t stress anything. My libido murmurs about how I ought to free the fantastic bulge hiding in his too tight jeans. My common sense says all the right things about how I need to stop this and figure out my goals and other babble, but it doesn’t actually make me stop anything or figure out what to do.

Finally, I relent to the Ginger who took over a criminal organization because she figured someone might as well give it a try. She doesn’t like boys and isn’t certain love is real. Best to shoot a problem, rather than let it fester. That Ginger reminds the rest of the voices in my head how every man before Oz screwed us over and every man after him will too. Everything I feel for him can be fixed by spending a few minutes alone with my vibrator.

“Stop,” I grunt, finally freeing my mouth from his.

“I was wondering when you’d speak up.”

Opening my mouth, I don’t know what to say. I can’t tell him to fuck off. I certainly can’t explain what I feel since I don’t even know.

Staring into his lustful, commanding gaze, I am literally speechless.

Normally, I’d lash out at the person stealing my confidence. Instead, I step around him and walk to the front door of the townhome. Oz calls my name and says something about me playing hard to get. I don’t stop walking until I reach my Harley. My mind only focuses on climbing onto the hog and starting the engine. I don’t think of anything besides the next step to finding relief from the numbing uncertainty plaguing my normally icy heart.

I count the blocks from my present location to the B&B. The closer I get to the house, the safer I feel. The girls are the only ones I’ve ever trusted. They stuck with me when I reached the top and controlled half of Little Memphis. They refused to abandon me even when my arrogance got a young woman named Sabine killed, and I tucked tail out of town.

Hiding away those years, they stayed at my side. Then I said it was time to return to Little Memphis, and they packed up without argument. From the day I became Ginger Snaps to this very moment I return to the B&B like a scared child, they’ve remained loyal.

I enter the house unable to speak or explain why I’m trembling. Like an angel sent to guide me from my panicked darkness, Clove appears from the library and takes my hand. She doesn’t ask questions or expect answers. I’m lost in dark memories, something she knows too well.

We settle onto the Victorian-style canopy bed, too grand for women of our meager beginnings. We are abused, forgotten children grown into scarred, violent criminals. Our dream of a fresh start as legal-oriented businesswomen seems foolish now.

“I’m in over my head,” I whisper with my eyes closed. “Did I really think I was the kind of woman who goes on dates?”

“You are any kind of woman you want to be. No one gave you permission to take over for Cris. Or to bring down Trigger, so Joker could take over the club. You decided to do something, and you did it. Sometimes, you were forced to be patient, and you did suffer setbacks, but you stayed focused, and you accomplished everything you wanted.”

“I failed Sabine,” I whisper, thinking of the girl murdered in my place when the former Little Memphis MC president couldn’t find me.

“Trigger killed her, not you. He wasn’t forced. He chose to end her life. You know that when you’re thinking straight.”

Unable to stop thinking of Sabine tied to two trucks and torn apart screaming, I close my eyes. Oz’s face immediately greets me. I can almost feel his presence. My lips sure remember how his tasted. How they dominated mine. By the time the kiss ended, I was stunned, lost, beyond flustered.

Oz never lost his cool, though. I am a woman to him. No better or worse than any who came before me. The man leaves me wrecked and doubting my every life decision. We’re clearly not on a level playing field and hiding from him is my only option as long as he wields the upper hand.