Page 3 of Tempt Me

Running on instinct, I unlock the driver’s side door and use my body weight to shove it open with enough force to knock the first man backward. He hits the oversized truck parked to my left. I fall out of my car before kicking the door hard enough to wedge it against my neighbor’s vehicle.

With the first man temporarily pinned, I take off running toward the interior security door. The second man is a muscled monster. His long legs allow him to catch up with me instantly. His large hands land on my shoulders. The weight of them nearly sends me to my knees.

I spin around and kick him in the crotch before leveling a blow against his left knee. He cries out in pain yet remains completely upright and undaunted.

Panicked at how my Muay Thai hasn’t slowed him, I unleash the pepper spray. As the mist hits him in the face, he hollers again yet refuses to back off.

A little of the spray blows back into my eyes, blurring my vision. I still dodge him as he reaches for me with one hand while his other wipes his face.

I flip open my switchblade and stab his outstretched hand. The garage echoes with his wails. I quickly yank the blade free and stab him in the inner thigh near his groin. As he goes down, I run toward the interior security door.

Dropping the pepper spray to free up one of my hands, I reach in my bag for my key fob and wave it in front of the security pad. As the man continues to holler and the outer security gate opens, I watch with relief as the pad beeps and flashes green.

I’ve just opened the door when my body goes rigid. Every muscle stiffens as if I’m suffering from a full-body charley horse.

My vision blurs. I drop hard against the concrete ground. Above me is the fuzzy outline of the first man. I see something in his hand. A part of my brain knows what it is. As he pulls the trigger, my world goes sideways again.

TACK O’MALLEY

As a kid, I wanted to be a dog. When my parents would have their loud and bloody fights, I’d crawl into our backyard kennel and snuggle with our two large mutts. The animals endured me in their space. During especially rough days, I’d pretend the dogs were my real mom and dad.

One day, my mom left the gate open. The dogs escaped and never came back. I knew then how “gone” was the best place to be.

These days, I don’t want to be a dog, and I have zero interest in running away. My life has been good since I became an O’Malley. I wear my Backcountry Kings Motorcycle Club vest with pride.

I have a real family now. My club mom Aunt Fred’s affection made me want to be better. My club dad Elvis helped me channel my anger into a fierce devotion to my family. I use all my energy to protect the club and our people.

My fellow foster brothers act as my best friends and worst enemies. We’re a wild bunch, starting shit just to keep things sharp. Aunt Fred and Elvis also have two daughters, Carys and Siobhan, who are the sisters I didn’t really want but enjoy having around.

Though I’m a happy fucking guy, I wake up unfulfilled every damn day. All because of an intoxicating rich girl.

The first time I saw Hunter Knutsen, I lost the ability to speak. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. The stunning redhead has a sexy as fuck body with curves for days. When she smiled at me, I was done for. Hunter was mine.

I’d spent years with club sluts and local girls throwing themselves at me. I never before needed to be charming or use seduction techniques. I only had to smile and ask their names to get their panties to drop.

Maybe that’s why I lied to Hunter about what my life in the club required. The rich girl wanted to be wild without any of the scary stuff. My lies allowed her to give us a shot. I figured by the time she realized the truth, she’d never be able to let me go.

I was wrong, of course. That’s why I wake up without Hunter every damn morning. Once she realized I was a violent man living a violent life, we were over. No more flirting. We could be friends or we could be nothing.

Hunter Knutsen’s stubborn nature is killing me. I feel myself dying without her affections focused on me. Our friendship sustained me for a while. I’ve regularly found reasons to spend time with her. We share friends. I often see the beautiful redhead around our clubhouse. Siobhan and I frequently watch Hunter’s band play. I attend her plays and that goofy improv thing she does.

But sometimes, I can’t survive life as her patient friend. If Hunter doesn’t come around, I’ll track her down to force a face-to-face encounter.

I’m stuck in a rut. We’ve been circling each other, playing friends for too long. I keep waiting for magic to strike and make her see what’s obvious to me. I don’t want to force anything. If I put down an ultimatum between us, and she blows me off, what then? Can I walk away?

No, I can’t. I already know what other women feel like. I’ve been a single guy before. I tried dating one of the club sluts who made me laugh. A good time isn’t enough anymore. I want more. I want Hunter.

When she’s focused on me, I see the future. Past our attraction and shared interests, I know we make sense down deep. We could share a life, maybe even have a kid or two.

When Hunter shut things down between us, I’d been fucking shocked. Pissed, too. I tried to stop wanting her. Except by then, my love for Hunter was a self-sustaining, invincible monster.

No other woman interests me. I can’t even enjoy an easy lay. I’ve become a man obsessed with what I can’t have.

Sometimes, I wonder what would have happened if I had been square with Hunter early on. Instead, I pretended I lived a quiet life while my club brothers were the wild ones. I claimed I was downright tame.

Those lies worked. Hunter agreed to a date. Up until then, we’d only flirted at the clubhouse. I bought her drinks. She danced up close and sexy with me. We kissed until her lips were chapped. Hunter Knutsen most definitely wanted me.

Then, a fight broke out, and I beat an asshole into a bloody mess. Thanks to years with Aunt Fred and Elvis as my parents, I rarely lashed out. Once I did, though, I struggled to turn off my rage. Beating on assholes always felt damn good.

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