Glaring down at me he yells, “Get the fuck out!”

Yeah, gladly.

I scramble up off the floor and dart toward the door. Just as I’m about to escape, his hand circles by bicep and I’m yanked off my feet. I stumble into a wall, which is actually his chest.

He growls into my ear, “Not a fuckin’ word about this.”

“I won’t.” My voice sounds small.

“To no one. Not even Dozer.”

I quickly nod.

He releases me. Or more like shoves me toward the door.

I flee from the room. I’m better off anywhere else in the clubhouse than in there with Luce who, at the moment, seems to be possessed.

I yelp when I’m grabbed a second time in the hallway. My heart tries to leap out of my chest. It takes me a millisecond to comprehend it’s Lily.

Her eyebrows are creased with worry and her face is slightly red. “Oh, my God, girl. What the hell was that about? Are you okay?”

My heart’s still racing and my hands are shaking. Where my head connected with the chair stings.

I whisper, “I’m okay. I’m okay.” However, I’m not sure if I’m trying to convince Lily or myself.

It’s fine. You’re fine.

I may not be unscathed, but I’m alive, breathing. I’ve faced the devil and bought myself another day.

However, I’m a little terrified to see what tomorrow holds.

Our eyes deceive us . . . our minds can be corrupted . . . but our hearts are forever truthful.

MAVERICK

If I stay in here any longer, one of my brothers will come looking for me, probably Taz. He’ll take one look at me, the mess I’ve made, and know something besides a mountain of work is keeping me from joining the party.

I should get out there or get back to work and finish my overdue design. But I’ll be damned if I can think straight enough to put pencil to paper tonight. Most likely, I’ll fuck it up more than I’ll fix it.

Sitting up, I lift my head out of my hands. I slump in my chair, defeated.

In less than two hours, one girl has tilted my whole world on its axis and succeeded in stirring up a tornado of raw emotions inside me.

Betrayal. Guilt. And a whole hell of a lot of pain.

Maybe fate is fucking with me again. Setting me up at the most inopportune time, playing some sort of sick and twisted joke just to revel in my misery.

I gave Dozer my word, Doll, Pumpkin, whatever the fuck her name is, could stay. Although what I really need is her gone. Out of my life. Out of this motherfucking clubhouse so I can rebury my past. Lock it back in the vault inside me where it belongs.

I thought if I pushed her, scared her enough to make her run, she’d be halfway across the state by now. Back to her boyfriend. Back to her sweet little suburban life. But she surprised the hell out of me. With every test that I threw at her, she stood her ground, changed, adapted, and showed me she’s like a 3D puzzle showing different facets of herself every time you view her from a different angle.

Each time I pushed, she pushed back. She called my bluff, and blew my whole fucking plan to pieces.

She made me realize she’s not a docile rag doll after all; more like that smart-mouthed orphan. Or the tabby stray I called her out for at first glance.

She even has a pair of claws on her. Literally. The girl left fucking marks on my skin. And her mouth may be tempting as sin to look at, dainty even, but she has a tongue like a whip when she decides to use it and not bite back her words.

When I forced her against the wall, I expected her to break down. Freak out. Run out of here like the devil was on her heels.

But did she?

No. Not even when I searched her.

If anything, she’d been turned on.

Wet.

I sit back in my chair, groan, and rub my hands over my face trying to suppress the memory of her reaction, and the way her slickness felt on my fingers. Smooth. Like the softest of silks. The recollection causes my skin to tighten all over.

When I told her to suck me off, she didn’t back down and she didn’t cower. She didn’t tell me to fuck off and storm out of my office. No. She rose to the challenge, brought out her ChapStick, and taunted me with it before finally sinking down to her knees in front of me. Her cheeks were flushed and eyes dilated, which caused a surge of arousal to shoot straight to my cock, while a jolt of electricity flickered through each of my limbs. I’d been both fighting not to come like a pre-pubescent boy, and struggling not to unleash the madness and bitter hatred I harbor for Dana on her.

Because I knew if she touched me, I’d lose the battle and attack her. Fuck her or kill her. Both were possibilities.

It’s why for the last half of a decade I’ve only indulged in a very strict brand of fucking. I touched the girls around the club enough to thrust to completion. No eye contact. No mouths. No hands roaming where they shouldn’t. Just simple. Rough. Fucking.

That’s it.

No way am I letting another bitch worm her way into my life and my club. And I’ll be damned if I’m going to let another redheaded stray soften me up for the staking a second time.

My body’s response was merely my dick’s way of telling me it’s sick of the limited sexual diet it’s been on and needs more.

Preferably from her.

Jesus . . . now my brain’s throwing out traitorous thoughts.

Fuucck.

I need a distraction. A way to clear my head. A drink maybe. Some fresh air. For a second I consider finding a clubpiece. Draining some of this built up sexual tension might help. But the very idea makes my stomach roll.

Stop being a pussy. She’s out there. And she will be for the next twelve fucking days. Man. The. Fuck. Up.

I suck in a deep breath and hold it until I get to my feet.

Twelve days is nothing. It’ll be over in a heartbeat. That’s all I need to remember.

After opening my door, I make my way across the main room, wading through hang-arounds, old ladies, clubpieces and my brothers. I ignore the slutty women vying for my attention and push them one by one to the side as they come into my path.

First things first, I need a drink.

I nod to my brothers and get an occasional back pat. I just need to make an appearance and then I’m out of here.

The music’s loud as hell. Pretty much everyone’s trashed. Bodie’s on the stage with a stripper and he’s all hands and mouth. He looks to be three sheets past the wind. The liquor’s evidently been flowing for a while. Half the women here have lost all sense of modesty, not that a lot of them had any to begin with. But my brothers look like they’re having a good time, so all’s good.

At the bar, it takes about ten seconds for Lita to finish her other orders and notice me. She knows what I like, and soon enough, she pours me a JD and Coke. Light on the Coke. I toss it back and tap the bar. The first and second burn as they skate down my throat. But the third goes down smooth. Anymore and I won’t be steady enough to ride, so I flip over my glass and slide it back to her.

Turning, I survey the room. My eyes bypass the circus going on before me and immediately find her. Her fiery mane easy to spot. Everyone and everything else are merely shades of gray. Where she stands out like a ruby in a coalmine.

Is it me or is she standing right under a spot light?

Because I can’t seem to pull my gaze away from her.

It’s evident to anyone looking at her, she’s uncomfortable and doesn’t belong here. She’s fidgeting, biting her lip, and her gaze shifts to the floor every few seconds. A couple is having sex not six feet from her, and it looks like she’s doing her best to avoid looking in that direction.

She’s standing behind the pool table, next to Lily and Goose. Dozer’s bent over, lining up a shot.