Page 12 of Devil's Plaything

“I knew you weren’t old lady material,” he replies with a grin. “What is he then?”

“My cousin.”

He burst out laughing. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Nope. He’s my cousin. I’ve never dated anyone from the Rebels actually. And I’m slightly offended you don’t think I’m old lady material. I’m totally old lady material.”

“And the guy from The Fuzzy Peach? That’s over?”

“Hell yes. I told you I only lived with Shawn for a few months. Thought it was serious or something. I don’t know. He started spending a lot of time at that strip club and I got jealous.”

“Not good with sharing.”

“Exactly. Now, what’s your story?”

“I don’t have a story.”

“Bullshit. You have lots of stories. You shot Nitro. You tried to have

Torch’s old lady and daughter kidnapped. You tried to sell a stripper in a trafficking ring.”

“I did not try to have that little girl kidnapped!” he snaps.

“But everything else is true?”

“And if it is? Are those red flags for you?”

I take another bite of the burger and wash it down with the beer for I

reply. “Maybe I’m colorblind.”

He chuckles as he finishes off his burger. Those things might be true, every one of them, but he’s here with me. He’s exactly where I want him to be. I don’t need labels and promises. I need someone I can count on.

“So, why do the Rebels and Devils have so much beef?”

“What’s Nitro told you?”

“Nothing. That’s why I’m asking you.”

He smirks. “Are you just fucking me to get intel on the club?”

I burst out laughing this time. “I’m fucking you because you make me come so hard I forget who I am.”

“So long as you’re not collecting intel…” he teases. “Our president used to be in the Rebel Souls. He was actually their VP. Anyway, he got voted out and decided to create his own club. The Devil’s Inferno MC.”

“How come you chose that club and not the Rebels?”

“You ask a lot of damn questions.”

I smile. “Two. I’ve asked two questions. How about for every question you answer, it’s one minute on a blow job?”

He answers without hesitation. “The club chose me. My father, if you can call him that, owed the club some money. I could’ve let them kill him, but I chose to pledge as a prospect instead. Work off his debt.”

“And now he knows you have the power to take his life any time you want.”

“Is that another question?” He stands from the barstool and approaches me, wrapping my legs around his waist. “Which way is your bedroom?”

“Down the hall. Last door on the left. You only get two minutes.”

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