Sooner or later, that shooting war was gonna hit.

We’d be ready for it.

The weekend coming up would be a huge part of that getting ready—patch holders from the Jacks, the Silver Bastards, and the Reapers were coming from all over the region to talk strategy, hopefully put together a joint offensive. We couldn’t just sneak around forever, or wait for them to bring the fight to us.

I flipped through my phone, finding the text she’d sent when I hadn’t answered the phone.

LONDON: Change of plans. I’ll be out at your place this afternoon. Something came up for tomorrow.

Something was comin’ up for today, too. My dick.

Christ, next I’ll be making fart jokes.

Juvenile as fuck.

Standing outside my front door, I smelled that acrid, horrible stench I remembered from her house last weekend. I turned the knob and stepped inside to find London standing on a stool in the living room, angrily dusting the weapons collection over the fireplace. She wore cutoff shorts and a black tank top—straight out of a wet dream … except for that god-awful stink filling the air.

She rose onto her tiptoes, one hand braced against the mantel as she reached higher. Her shirt pulled up, exposing a narrow band of skin, and I held back a groan.

God damn. I needed to either fuck her or fire her, because this in-between shit was not workin’ for me. ’Course Gage wanted her crew working out at The Line permanently, so I guess that meant firing was off the table.

Okay, then. I’d take one for the team and fuck her. “I’m cleaning your oven,” she announced loudly, turning to face me, hands on her hips. The stance was pure challenge. Spoiling for a fight. Why, I couldn’t imagine, but it was a good look on her—fire in her eyes and all that shit.

I’d screw the fire right out of her. My cock took note, tightening just enough to be uncomfortable, and I decided what the hell. No time like the present.

“What crawled up your ass?” I asked. London scowled.

“I’m just trying to do my job. I was supposed to come tomorrow, but I’ll be at the airport instead. Jessie is coming back home.”

Interesting.

“You don’t seem too happy about that,” I said, sauntering across the floor toward her. I came to a stop about three feet away, which put my eyes level with her boobs. She sniffed, then turned and lifted her arms to reach one of the higher knives with her duster. It made her tits jiggle under the tank, a sight my cock appreciated greatly.

“My cousin’s boyfriend is apparently some kind of criminal,” she said tightly. “I guess the place is crawling with scary goons. A couple of them cornered Jess last night, terrified her. She says she’s safe until tomorrow, but I wanted her to come home tonight. She said she’d text me but she hasn’t.”

I stilled.

“You know anything about these guys?”

She turned back toward me, shaking her head. A smudge of dirt ran across her forehead and her bright red hair flopped around like she’d just gotten out of bed.

Not a bad look on her at all.

“Nothing, but I know I want to hurt them. She said I shouldn’t fly down there. Probably a good thing, because I don’t need to spend the rest of my life in jail and that’s where I’ll end up if I get my hands on these assholes.”

“So you came out here instead? Not sure how to take that, sweetheart.”

She put her hands on her hips.

“I won’t be around tomorrow, and I don’t want you accusing me of backing out of our deal.”

Yeah, right.

“So you think I’m such an asshole I won’t let you off the hook to pick up your cousin from the airport?” I asked, trying not to smirk because I had her cold. She’d come here because when shit hit the fan, she wanted to be near me. Might not be ready to admit it, but that didn’t change what was really going on.

“You’re enough of an asshole to have sex in front of me.”

“Yeah, I’m a real piece of work—a single man fucking a willing partner in the privacy of my own home. Sometimes I cry myself to sleep, I’m so ashamed of my actions.”

“Are you saying the timing was a total coincidence?” she demanded.

I laughed.

“You’re the one who showed up early,” I reminded her. “But yeah, I’ll give you that. I’d already decided to keep Sharon around all afternoon, make a point of her bein’ here. Didn’t plan to screw her in front of you, but I wasn’t disappointed when you walked in and saw it, either. I was fucking pissed off, London. I was there for you when you needed it, I took care of you, and then you called me another man’s name. One of my least favorite men, for the record.”

Her eyes widened and her mouth opened, then closed.

“You’re a jerk.”

“No, I’m an asshole. You wanna fight like a grown-up, start using grown-up words.”

“Fuck off,” she hissed, and I swear her hair started levitating a little like Medusa. Okay, so it might’ve just been how she shook her head, but either way it was hotter than hell. The fighting had been fun, but we’d wasted enough time. Time to get inside that tight cunt of hers, check out whether it felt as good wrapped around me as my imagination suggested.

I wrapped an arm around her waist and lifted her off the chair, hoisting her horizontally against my side as I started toward the bedroom.

“What are you doing?”

“Enough foreplay. Time to get down to business, babe.”

“I’m not your babe. Put me down!”

“Not gonna happen.”

She started kicking, which would’ve been a lot more effective if her legs could’ve reached any part of my body from that position. Not my first rodeo. Then she slapped at me, prying at my arm around her waist.

“Careful, don’t want me to drop you.”

“God! How can you be doing this? It’s not fair—you’re too strong for me. I hate you!”

I decided how I could be doing this was fucking obvious, so it didn’t need answering. Good thing, too, because she dug her fingernails into my arm so hard I think she drew blood.

“Stop playin’ around, London.” We passed through the kitchen. My bedroom door was open. I kicked it shut behind us, then reached around to lock it because I’d be damned if I’d put up with any interruptions at this point.

Then I tossed her on the bed.

London scuttled back like a crab, bracing herself against the headboard with wide eyes.

“What’s wrong with you?” she demanded breathlessly.

“I’m horny,” I said, my voice matter-of-fact. I sat on the edge of the bed and pulled off my boots. I grabbed my T-shirt and drew it up and over my head, tossing it over to land on top of my dresser. Then I stood and went for my pants.

London squeaked again.

“Door’s right there,” I said. “Locks from the inside, so not like you’re trapped here. If you want to leave, go. Otherwise take your clothes off.”

I stood and shoved down my pants, cock springing free to smack against my stomach. She gasped and I smiled, because I knew the view was generally considered a good one.

“Clothes?” I reminded her.

She sat up, then sort of pulled her dignity around her like a heavy cape, as if that could protect her.

It couldn’t.

“Let’s talk about this,” she said quietly. “We should set some rules, figure out where we’re going.”

“We’re going to fuck. Then I think we’ll probably do it again. After that I’ll buy you dinner, but only if you’re nice.”

“I brought dinner with me,” she muttered.

“Christ, you’d be perfect if you didn’t have such a stick up your ass.”

I crawled forward on the bed, grabbing her ankles and jerking them down abruptly. She squawked, but she didn’t fight when I caught her hands and pressed them back into the bed, over her head. Then I lowered my mouth to catch hers—had to see if she actually tasted as good as I remembered.

She did.

I thrust my tongue in deep, closing my eyes as I savored finally getting inside her body. At first she lay passive. Then her tongue started playing with mine, a game of chase and follow I could’ve kept up for hours if my dick wasn’t on fire. Kneeing her legs apart, I settled down between them, realizing the hard way I was in serious danger of denim burn on my cock.

I pulled back and smiled down at her. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes were bright, and that shiny red hair of hers lay across the pillow like a lava flow.

“I like that color on you,” I said, shifting to the side so I could slide my hand down to her stomach. The button of her jeans opened easily enough, and her hips surged upward to meet my fingers as they found her clit.

Wet as hell. Beautiful.

“Thanks,” she muttered. “I didn’t think you’d noticed. You didn’t say anything the other day.”

“Oh, I noticed.”

“Holy crap, that feels good …” she whispered.

“I do my best.”

Her breasts rose and fell rapidly as her breathing increased. I slid my fingers up and down, dipping into her pussy and then pressing in and upward as my thumb kept the action going outside. Finally I pulled back and she whimpered, protesting.

To hell with this slow shit.

“You’re wearing too much,” I said. “Take something off, because otherwise I’m going to start ripping things.”

LONDON

Take something off, because otherwise I’m going to start ripping things.

I nearly had a heart attack.

Reese would let me walk out the door if I asked. I knew he would … But if I walked out, I might never come back, and in the past five minutes I’d come to the clear realization that I wanted to come here in every sense of the word.

He shoved up my shirt, exposing the red satin bra I’d decided to wear while cleaning his house for no particular reason I cared to acknowledge. Reese’s mouth caught my nipple and I forgot all about taking things off.

This was unfortunate. He hadn’t been kidding about the clothes.

Apparently sucking me through the fabric wasn’t good enough, because seconds later he caught the center fastener of my bra and snapped it in half. My breasts spilled free and then I felt the heat of his mouth pulling me back in, deep. His fingers burrowed down into my shorts, finding my clit and rubbing it hard enough that it should’ve hurt. Instead it just felt really, really good.

Need grew out of my center, sending tingles through my entire body. I couldn’t think, but I could sure as hell feel. It felt good. Real good. Better than I remembered sex, and I remembered sex as something very nice indeed.

Reese switched to my other breast, and somehow I regained enough awareness to reach down between us and cup his hard length.

His cock.

I liked the word, I really did. I liked it a lot and I liked the fact that I was free to use it as much as I wanted. I wanted to see more of it, too.

“I want your cock,” I managed to whisper, and Reese froze.

Then things changed.

Before he’d been restrained, if not gentle. Yeah, that was over now. Within seconds he had me flipped over on my stomach, and then I felt my shorts ripping down my body. I’m not quite sure what happened to my panties, but a heartbeat later his hand came under my stomach, lifting me to my knees.

I barely had time to catch my breath before I felt the head of his erection at my entrance. Not for long, though. He thrust in—hard—which was more than a little startling because I hadn’t seen any real action for years.

“Holy crap,” I grunted, and he stilled, letting me grow used to the feel of him deep inside. I felt pinned, impaled … vulnerable. “Oh my God, I can’t believe you just did that.”

“Believe it,” he muttered, fingers finding my clit again. He toyed with it and I squirmed, squeezing down on him every time he found just the right spot.

“Fuck …” he groaned. Then his hips pulled back and he started moving in me. He wasn’t gentle and as he hit home I gasped, because the man was big and it sort of hurt but in a weirdly good way.

Did I mention it’d been a while?

Fortunately, Reese “Picnic” Hayes had magic fingers, because by the third time he filled me, I’d lost all sense of time and space. All I could feel was the pressure building through me, centered on my clit and the delicious friction of him pushing deep against the front wall of my vagina.

My vibrator just couldn’t compete.

Then I had a horrible, horrible thought.

“I’m not on birth control.”

“Got a condom,” Hayes grunted. “And a vasectomy.”

Huh. How had I missed him suiting up? I couldn’t feel it, either, which was probably because I was so damned wet. Reese caught my clit in his fingers, almost pinching at it, which should’ve hurt like hell but was quite possibly the most amazing thing anyone has ever done to me.

It was enough to push me over.

I gasped, my muscles clenching down hard on him as I came. He groaned. Then his hands caught my hips, which was a good thing because my entire body ceased to function and I collapsed.

Reese ignored my mental and physical crash, lifting my ass up high for his penetration, pumping into me faster and faster as he got close to his own release. Then I felt a renewed tingle of sensation, and realized that I might be capable of achieving the Holy Grail for all women—multiple orgasms.

“Up on your hands,” Hayes told me harshly. Somehow I pushed myself up, startled I had the strength. His hand caught my hair and jerked back. I screamed and reared back on my knees, bracing my hands against the bedstead.