Page 44 of Diablo

“I was working on it when you interrupted me.”

Diablo pinched the skin of my neck between his teeth.

“Not that hunk of scrap metal. I’m talking about your original bike. That gorgeous red one you used to ride. You didn’t…sell it for bail money, did you?”

When Diablo’s hands curved around my hips and slid higher along my torso to cup my breasts, I sucked in a gasp, barely managing to stifle a whine of need.

“Totaled it in a crash,” I said. “Got rid of it.”

Diablo hummed against my neck, smoothing his thumbs over my nipples in steady circles. I reached back and clutched the edge of the tool bench.

“Oh, that’s definitely a lie, princess.”

He pulled back to look at me, pinning me with a firm look.

“I almost thought Tarzan was the one who got me out, but that theory didn’t make sense. Especially when I heard that he donated the rally proceeds to charity. Then I heard through the grapevine that you were in the market for a new bike and the pieces started fitting together.”

“Sounds like you missed your calling,” I said. “You could have been a detective with those sleuthing skills.”

Diablo breathed a soft laugh and cradled my face in his hands, shaking his head.

“You can run that mouth all you like, sweetheart. I’ve got you figured out.”

“Doubt it—”

Before I could finish, Diablo kissed me, sliding his tongue slow and hot against mine. My protest died away on a whimper. I grabbed his belt and yanked him close.

If we were going to burn, we would do it together.

Chapter Thirteen

Diablo

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” Stevie muttered, releasing a long, low breath.

We lingered outside the Alpha Riders clubhouse, taking a moment to steady ourselves. The parking lot was full of Rider and Howler bikes while everyone else was inside.

I reached over and took Stevie’s hand, smoothing my thumb across her knuckles. I wished I had some encouraging words to share but my stomach wasn’t feeling entirely settled either, even though I was the one to call the meeting in the first place.

Then the door opened. Mack stuck his head out.

“All right, lovebirds. Get in here.”

Stevie glanced at me. I squeezed her hand tighter and led the way to the meeting room at the back of the clubhouse. Mack and Axel had been tasked with bringing in more chairs this morning to accommodate everyone during the meeting.

There were no vacant chairs now. Stevie and I would have to stand before the Alpha Riders and Desert Howlers and plead our case.

Seated at the head of the table were Brewer and Lloyd—Presidents for each club present. Alpha Riders flanked the right side of the table while Desert Howlers lined up along the left side.

For a split second, it struck me how surreal this moment was. Two weeks ago, the Desert Howlers had entered our clubhouse and a brawl nearly broke out. This time, they were seated at the same table.

“Diablo and Stevie,” Brewer said, lifting his chin in acknowledgement. “We understand that you have requested this meeting to publicly discuss your relationship.”

“That’s correct,” I said.

Stevie was shaking so hard, all she could do was nod once.

“Considering the history of hostility between our clubs,” Tank said. “It could be a good chance to mend fences.”

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