Page 46 of Property of the Hellfire Riders

He's solid above me, but every fighter has a weakness, and I think I know his.

I arch my hips into his, pressing harder with every grind, creating a delicious friction that stoked the fire between us. The hard, pulsating heat of his cock against me, and for a brief moment, I have control.

A streak of lightning dancing across the sky, illuminating the hard line of his features and the tortured expression on his face. He wants me terrible, and I’m sure Hawk making me off limits has only worsened his craving.

“Tank, please," I moan, and he hesitates, just for a fraction of a second, but it's enough to give me the opening I need.

I wait for that split second of hesitation in his eyes, that brief flicker of doubt, and I take my chance. With a swift movement, I shift my weight to the side, using his own momentum against him.

My legs tuck and pivot, and before he can react, I use a classic maneuver to unbalance him. The world spins momentarily, and then I'm on top, straddling Tank as he blinks up at me in surprise. My hands pin his shoulders to the ground, mirroring the position he had me in moments ago. "I said, get off me," I repeat, my voice low and fierce.

Tank stares up at me, and there's a new awareness in his gaze followed by amusement. I think I just fucked up.

“Well, that was rather unexpected,” he chuckles and before I break out of his grasp, his hands are on my thighs, pushing me onto his erection.

His grip is mock-tight, but I know with one move, he could easily flip the tables on me again.

“We can talkabout this without?—“

Before I finish my sentence, he flips us over so that I’m underneath him again, and there’s no getting out of this hold. One hand has both my wrists. His right knee forces my legs to spread and the heat of his hard cock pressed between my legs. Out of some wicked instinct, I ever so slightly move myself against him.

“Behave yourself, little spitfire,” he whispers in my ear and I shiver at the deepness in his tone. His dark eyes flash in the night. “Now, you better tell me the reason you led me out here tonight was to get me alone.”

I weigh my options fast then.

It’s hard to think like this with my back against the ground and Tank on top. My body moves with each one of his breaths as though each of his exhales sends longing into me.

“I was just looking around,” I mutter.

“Oh? Okay, Izzy. Looking around out the window? What should I say to Hawk then? That I caught you sneaking out of his workshop in the middle of night? Do you think that will go over well?”

I shake my head no.

“No. You’re right. You don’t want to find out what he will do if he thinks for a moment that you’re spying on us or working with the Dead Demons.”

“I’m not working with them!” I say.

He leans in so close that his lips brush my ear, sending shivers down my spine. “You know what I think? You’re working with the police?”

“No—“

“Izzy, I’m not going to hurt you, but I need to know what the hell you’ve got yourself mixed up in. Nobody just walks through our front door like you did. We got you marked from the moment you stepped foot on our property.”

He’s not going to let me go. I don’t have a way to lie out of this.

“But if you’ve known then—” realization hits me. Hawk was just toying with me, seeing how far I would go to play the part. Heat rises up through me, but I can’t let my emotions get out of check. There’s too much on the line here.

I have to take a risk, and it might pay off, or it might get me killed.

“I thought you kidnapped my best friend,” I finally admit. The weight of the admission lifts from me, though it’s replaced with fear.

His eyes narrow, and I expect him to kill me on the spot. Instead, he pulls back so that his weight isn‘t on top of me anymore. His silence tells me to keep talking, but I don’t know if he believes me.

“She’s a photojournalist who had evidence about you, and I think something happened the night she came to the clubhouse. No one would help me, so I figured I’d come here myself.”

“Jesus,” he pushes his hand back through his hair. “The one you were asking about?”

“Yeah. Her name’s Laina.”

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