Page 9 of The Devil's Scars

“Wolf…”

“At. The. Party.” He was firm on this point, she saw. “You need to meet my VP, seein’ as he’s the guy you’ll be reportin’ to when I’m away.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“So give us an hour, baby girl. Have one beer, say hi, flash those sexy green eyes around and charm the boys.”

She sighed. “OK. I’ll come and meet Scars and the guys, but I have to get some things organized before I do that.”

“Fine.” Wolf got to his feet, and stretched. “Now, I gotta get going.”

“Hot date?” she asked, amused.

“Yep.” He shot her a lazy grin. “She’s waitin’ over at Satan’s.”

Zoe shook her head. Some things hadn’t changed, she saw. Wolf was still a die-hard womanizer, and she suspected that the ladies didn’t mind it at all. She thought that she had to be the only female to have wandered across Wolf’s path who hadn’t fallen under the spell of his gorgeous face and body, and leapt into bed with him.

Yeah, OK. The man was smoking-hot-and-dirty sex on legs, and she was sure it would be mind-blowing with Wolf… but she liked him far too much as a friend to fuck him. No way she was risking their relationship for some orgasms. Even mind-altering ones.

Come to think of it, though… when was the last time that she’d had any mind-altering orgasms? Or even just so-so orgasms? Besides with her vibrator, she meant.

A while, she realized. More than a while, really… well over a year. No shock, considering the arrival of Keira in her life, but still. Now that things looked to be calming down a bit, maybe she could start taking care of her personal life a bit? Maybe even find a guy who wouldn’t mind about her having a small baby.

Of course, she was now working for an MC which – by its very definition – was comprised of nothing but commitment-phobes specializing in one-nighters. But other guys came to Satan’s Bar, she was sure. Normal guys. Decent guys. Guys who’d never shot anyone, or beaten the crap out of anyone. Guys who worked in offices, guys who didn’t wear cuts, guys who didn’t have criminal records. Guys who’d be sweet and faithful and steady. Guys who were the type that she craved, maybe even the type that she deserved at long last.

Who she wouldn’t get involved with, though? The Road Devils. Yeah, sure, she could easily pick up one of Wolf’s guys tomorrow night and have a good time. It’s not like he’d expect a goddamn relationship afterwards; these guys just didn’t give a crap about any of that.

They’d fuck madly, she’d possibly even get a few decent orgasms out of it, she’d get to work. He’d have no issue with her being at Blue Dragon, she was sure. After all, those boys definitely fucked the bar girls, and pass-arounds, and hangers-on, and saw them around after, no problems and no expectations.

The thing was, she wanted the relationship, and the follow-up, and the expectations. She wanted to be with someone, for real.

But – and this was a big ‘but’ – she’d learned her lesson about trying to get involved and be serious with one of The Road Devils kind of guys: she’d learned it the hard way. It just wasn’t in the sexist nature of an MC member to do more than screw random women, as many as humanly possible, all casual and no-strings. It was in their sexist nature to lie to women, to cheat on women, to manipulate women. To put their brothers over all women, even a woman they claimed to love.

Bros before hos. Always and forever.

After what had happened to her in that back room six years earlier, Zoe now believed that the whole MC lifestyle attracted a certain kind of guy. Guys lacking the commitment gene embraced the MC world; guys who couldn’t be faithful to one woman.

Guys who couldn’t love a woman, not any woman. Not deeply and truly, and certainly not forever.

Guys like Wolf who – despite being a great man, and someone she could count on without question as a friend – was a bastard about women. He was awesome to her… and maybe that was all because Zoe had always kept her legs closed around him.

Would we even be friends still if I’d slept with him? I bet we wouldn’t.

No, by the very nature of the MC lifestyle, commitment and labels and chains were all off-limits. No stress, no pressure, no expectations. And at this stage in her life, Zoe wanted those things.

Maybe those things couldn’t be found in a biker bar, but why not at least give it a shot? Just go and test the waters tomorrow night, take a look around. Enjoy the music, maybe even get drunk, flirt with a harmless guy or two. And if by some goddamn miracle, someone totally boring and utterly desirable – like a lawyer or accountant or hell, even a Home Depot manager – walked on into Satan’s? Well… maybe she’d give him her number.

So, yeah. One buzzy, fun night before buckling down at work and at home. It wasn’t going to be easy to manage an MC tattoo parlor, she knew, and she’d have to be strong and focused when the shit inevitably started to hit the fan as she made changes. But right now? She was free from all the obligations of work and child care. Right now, she could let herself be distracted and relaxed.

Why not? Just this once.

“OK, Wolf,” she said, her mind made up. “I’ll come tomorrow night.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” She winked at him. “What the hell, right? I’ll even put on a short skirt.”

“Holy fuck,” he breathed. “The boys won’t know what hit ‘em.”

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