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  But what approach would they take? They could go in, act oblivious, and try to get her to latch onto one of them, or they could wait her out and snatch her when she left. She’d likely have had a few drinks and be a little more pliable by then. He glanced at Corey, who didn’t look thrilled at any of this. But he also wasn’t arguing the possibility. Rafe had the impression his president was ready to be done with this vengeance mission and would go to great lengths to see it through at this point. All the better for him.

  “Let’s go. I say we go in, try to get her to take the plunge. If it doesn’t work, we let her leave and grab her on the way out.” It was the perfect plan. Either way, Jake Hawthorne’s sister would be his before the night was out, and that meant Jake wasn’t far behind.

  “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Corey groaned, throwing his head back and closing his eyes in frustration.

  But Rafe pressed on. “This is the best chance we’ve got, brother. And think about it. We don’t have to worry about hitting them up on the road anymore.” Corey peered at him through a slit in one eye, and he added, “Plus, if we take Jake out, they get a new president, and we can work with them instead of having to fight with them all the time. We offer them free passage through our territory for a small take in the profits. It’s a win-win situation.”

  He knew Corey couldn’t turn that down. He’d been looking for a way to call a truce with the Kings for over a year now with no possibilities on the table. An answer to his biggest problem and a resolution to Rafe’s debt, were just around the corner. All Corey had to do was back Rafe’s idea, help him take the little sister, and all would be well.

  “You’re going to put me in an early grave, Rafe,” Corey grumbled, shaking his head. “Fine. Let’s finish the game and talk it through, and we’ll ride out after. We’re not going in without a backup plan.”

  Rafe growled to himself. He had a backup plan. But he didn’t argue. At least they were going through with it. Downing the last of his whiskey, he poured another, the liquid warming him up now rather than burning fiercely on the way down. Strange how hope could change the way everything felt. Suddenly, the game of pool wasn’t just an automatic pastime, and he was ready for a new challenge. Then again, this was a situation that didn’t suck. There was no way they could lose at this one. Even if it came down to the worst case scenario, Zeke was right. An eye for an eye.

  Jake could pay the same price and lose a sister in the crossfire.

  Half an hour later, Rafe had his crew outside the clubhouse, ready to ride out. Corey, Zeke, and Harrison would join him inside the bar, while JR and Blaze, two of their most senior prospects, would wait outside in case they needed to grab this chick on her way out of the bar later.

  Zeke’s girl, Karen, had texted, and Jake’s sister had confirmed she was at the Wicked Thorn, a dive bar just a couple miles away. “Her name is Kira,” Zeke said, squinting at the text that had just come through. “Karen doesn’t know if she has a type. Says she’s never seen her go home with anyone. We may be making a go of Plan B.”

  Rafe didn’t care which way things worked out, as long as they came home with an extra passenger that had long, dark hair and exotic eyes. “She doesn’t get hurt, no matter what happens,” he warned, meeting each pair of eyes in the group and waiting for a nod of confirmation. “And when we get her back, she’s mine. No toying with her, no sharing her. This is my debt, my fight. We do it together, but we do it my way.”

  “As long as you don’t fuck up,” Corey warned. “And don’t let your dick call the shots.”

  The others laughed, but Rafe cut his eyes at them and shut them up. “I have no interest in her, other than to get my hands around her brother’s neck and squeeze the life out of him. She’s no good to me damaged.” He twirled his finger in the air. “Let’s ride.”

  Mounting his bike, Zeke leaned over and muttered, “You do realize that fucking her with her consent would be just as much of an insult to that son of a bitch.”

  Objectively, Rafe wouldn’t mind getting his hands on the body he saw in the picture. But he wasn’t looking for a fight. He didn’t want to goad Jake into an all-out war. He just wanted to draw him out of hiding so they could meet face to face. And then he would destroy the asshole’s face. “I don’t want a price on my head, Zeke.”

  “I’m just saying. That piece of ass—“

  “Is off limits,” Rafe cut him off adamantly. He didn’t need anyone else getting any ideas in their heads about the kind of fun they could have in bed with Kira Hawthorne. “That’s the end of it, Zeke. Hands off, for everyone.”

  “Including you?” Zeke raised a brow at him, as if questioning his integrity.

  Rafe grinned without humor. “Are you questioning my self-control? Or are you saying I can’t get laid somewhere else?”

  “Take it how you want. I can’t promise that, in your spot, I wouldn’t cave. The chick is smoking hot.” Zeke shrugged and revved his engine.

  Turning over his own, Rafe shook his head. “I’m not going to have a problem, bro,” he shouted over the growl of the bikes. “Watch and learn.” Pulling out first, he led the group onto the road and to the bar, taking it easy. The night was young, the traffic was still flowing, and there was no rush. And the ten minute ride was perfect to cool his heels and get his head on straight. It would be poetic if he could be the one to seduce Jake’s sister rather than one of his club brothers. How satisfying would it be to know that he coerced his rival’s sister into his arms before using her to get his revenge?

  Nothing could possibly be sweeter.

  As they drew up to the entrance of the bar, Rafe ran his fingers through his hair and rolled his shoulders. He wanted to make an impression. The rest of the guys were no different, adjusting their cuts and assuring they were put together before he pushed in through the front door. After all, there was no harm in getting the attention of a few other chicks, especially since only one of them would win the grand prize for the evening.

  The small space was dark, and Rafe sidled up to the bar, assessing his surroundings. The only real light was over the pool tables in the back, and it didn’t take much work to find his target. Kira Hawthorne was bent over the pool table, looking like an advertisement for sex with the swell of her ass in the air inviting two hands to take the wheel and a raging cock to go for a ride. He had to adjust himself, even from this distance, before he could even think about approaching her with any realistic chance of not looking like a complete douche.

  “Jesus Christ on wheels,” Zeke groaned next to him, calling over the bartender. “I’m going to have to drink myself to death to keep my hands to myself.”

  Rafe grunted. “I’m not worried about your hands right now, brother. Just keep your woody tucked away, and we’ll call it a deal. For now.” He grabbed the whiskey and sauntered toward the back of the joint, Kira in his sights. Some buxom blond pushed against him, trying to get his attention, but he gave her a cursory smile and kept going, letting Harrison catch her as she stumbled away.

  As he approached, Kira turned to a slightly taller blond girl and said something that had them both laughing, and Rafe made a snap decision. Averting his gaze, he focused on the friend, giving her his signature cocky grin and a jut of his chin in acknowledgement. “Can I buy you a drink?”

  She beamed at him, blushing and nudging Kira not so subtly. “Maybe. If you’ll buy one for my friend, too.”

  This was better than he could have hoped. With a shrug, he let his eyes roam up and down Kira Hawthorne. She was a tiny bit of a thing, maybe five foot three, but her dark brown eyes danced with mirth at the exchange she seemed to have expected all along. And every curve made him want to trace her body with his lips and fingers. “What are you ladies drinking?”

  “Whiskey sours,” Kira answered in a husky tone that made Rafe’s jeans suddenly feel far too tight. What the hell was he getting himself into?

  2

  It didn’t take a genius to figure out who Kira was looking at.
After all, the cut said it all. He was part of the Devil’s Flame MC. The signature skull with horns, backed by blue flaming wings, stood for everything her brother hated in this world.

  And everything she wanted in her life to piss Jake off.

  She may not have known them by name, but she had a distinct feeling these were high ranking members of the crew, especially the insanely gorgeous man standing over her and Tara at the moment, acting like he’d intended to hit on Tara when his eyes had been all over Kira from the moment he spotted her across the bar. And the way he swallowed hard when she spoke said it all. He was into her, which made him the perfect target tonight.

  He nodded at one of his men without breaking eye contact, and the other guy jumped into action, apparently headed to buy the drinks, and Kira revised her assessment. This wasn’t one of the top dogs. He was literally at the top of the food chain. President or vice, she didn’t know, but did it really matter? He exuded sex with his dark brown hair, chiseled jaw, and jade green eyes. He dwarfed her, standing a couple of inches over six feet, and his lean muscle made her wonder if he was strong enough to flip her over without breaking away while drilling into her.

  “I’m Tara, and this is Kira,” Tara offered with a little too much exuberance. Kira said nothing.

  But biker boy cut his gaze to Tara with a salacious grin for a moment, taking her hand and brushing his lips over her knuckles briefly. “Tara. Nice to meet you. I’m Rafe.” He dropped her hand and reached for Kira, who lazily complied, holding out her hand. His lips were soft, enticing, and lingered all too long. And was that the tip of his tongue snaking out across her ring finger? God, she could melt for this hunk of flesh, and he would definitely get her brother’s goat. “Kira. Quite a pleasure.”

  Kira gave him a nod as his minion returned, handing over the drinks. “And who’s your friend?” she asked, cocking a half grin at him and watching his jaw work in consternation. Of course, he’d be jealous if she paid attention to someone of lower ranking.

  “This is Zeke,” Rafe told her, his voice filled with the gravel of his irritation. “Zeke, meet Tara and Kira.”

  Zeke sidled past Rafe, and Kira watched with barely contained amusement as he moved right into Tara’s space. “Well, well, I can’t believe I haven’t seen you around here before.”

  “Nicely choreographed,” Kira muttered, moving just an inch closer to Rafe. “Do they all read your mind like that?”

  But Rafe obviously wasn’t going to be outdone. With a teasing smile, he shrugged. “I usually take the blond, actually.” Oh, he was good at this game.

  “You wouldn’t have had much luck,” Kira countered, reaching up to pat his cheek. “You apparently shaved this morning. Tara appreciates a little carpet burn.”

  Quirking a brow at her, Rafe asked, “And what about you?”

  “I work hard to keep this skin baby smooth. I’d rather not get a rash.” She winked at him, reaching for the pool cue Tara was about to drop, her attention fully focused on Rafe’s man. “Looks like I’m out a competitor here. Care to finish the game for her?”

  “Solids or stripes?”

  Eyeing the table and smirking, she told him, “Solids. I’ll even let you take the first shot.”

  He groaned as he assessed the game. “Tara’s not much of a pool shark, is she?”

  “She’s pretty good. I’m just much better. At a lot of things.” She watched Rafe’s pupils dilate at her words and knew she had him locked down. She had no intention of going home with him. After all, she wasn’t easy. But a little harmless flirtation, maybe some teasing, and a kiss goodnight wouldn’t hurt. And she trusted that Tara would take the news back to the Diamond Kings, letting Jake know that his little sister just might be scoring with a rival biker.

  Sweet, sweet victory.

  Kira stepped back to watch as Rafe stalked around the table, his shoulders and hips moving in graceful rotations, reminding her of a panther hunting. It was intoxicating to see, men of his size were usually clunky and even a bit awkward sometimes. She had images of him rolling his hips in bed and held her breath to keep from moaning out loud at the thought.

  It didn’t help when he bent and took his shot, giving her a prime view of what had to be the best ass in the finest pair of jeans she’d seen in ages. Sure, there were plenty of rough men in some of the smaller MCs that frequented the dive bar, and that’s why she came here. It was easy to get her brother all worked up anytime she spent a few hours here. But she wasn’t used to the quality of eye candy that Rafe and his friends presented.

  The ball banked and cut just a little too far to the left to hit the pocket, and Rafe let loose a fierce curse. Kira snorted and shrugged. “Maybe you’re just distracted.”

  “I don’t get distracted,” he countered, but the way he consumed her with his gaze said otherwise. “My focus is always exactly where I intend it to be.”

  Narrowing her eyes at him, Kira chalked her cue. This guy certainly warranted more than an appreciative onceover. He had a way with words, and Kira could go toe to toe with this banter all night. “If that’s the case, big guy, watch this,” she told him and took her shot. It would have been perfect, had he not sidled up next to her and just brushed a hand against her waist. This time, she let the curses fly.

  He clicked his tongue at her. “Such a dirty mouth on such a beautiful woman,” he chuckled. “You kiss your mother with that mouth?”

  “I kiss whoever I want with this mouth, and they’re damn lucky for it,” she replied, stepping into his space with a challenge. “You have a problem with my mouth?”

  He smirked. “Only that those lips aren’t on me.” He bent and took her mouth with surprising force, brief but passionate, and when he pulled back with a triumphant grin, Kira stumbled slightly, her head spinning. Damn, he tasted good! Like whiskey and spice, smoke and something deeply masculine.

  She could get used to that.

  Shaking herself and trying to find her sense of balance, she watched as Rafe ran three balls before he missed a shot. And then he didn’t give her a chance to gauge the table, instead moving in front of her with her drink in his hand. “You’ve hardly touched this.”

  “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you wanted to get me drunk and take advantage of me,” she said, taking it and draining the glass.

  He shook his head. “No, I’d rather you made a conscious decision. But at least I know you trust me now.” He winked and smacked her ass, and Kira let out a small yelp, not having expected it. She liked this guy more and more by the minute.

  She took her time assessing her shot, glancing over her shoulder to find Tara giggling with Rafe’s man and watching. Good, that was exactly what Kira wanted. Her friend would report back to Mason, the closest thing she had to a boyfriend, who would talk to Jake and let him know exactly what Kira had been up to tonight. Bending over, she lined up a sure shot but hesitated, sensing Rafe close to her. “If I don’t make this shot, I’m holding you personally responsible.”

  She could almost feel him chuckle, he stood so close to her hip. “I’m just admiring the view. I won’t interfere.”

  “Good.” She slammed the ball into the pocket and managed to line up the winning shot. “Eight ball, corner.” She pointed, and he stood back, arms crossed, as if to prove he wouldn’t be the reason she lost.

  She sunk it easily, and Rafe nodded. “Nice shot. Now, can we start over so I get a fair game?”

  Kira pursed her lips, letting her eyes roam over him the way his had taken inventory of her time and again. “I’m not sure fair is the word I’d use for it, but sure. I’m good for another round.”

  “Set it up. I’ll get us another drink, and I’ll break.” Rafe walked away, and Kira took a moment to watch him from the back. His cut was better fitted on him than on so many of the men who frequented the dive, and she couldn’t help thinking that the men she used to piss her brother off were nothing more than riff raff by comparison. What she really needed was someone like Rafe, someone not
only from the biggest rival MC but who actually turned heads. Then, Jake might believe she meant business.

  The problem was, she found Rafe insanely attractive, and she didn’t know where she would draw the line this time. She was used to teasing and playing, then sending them home with blue balls. But for some reason, she didn’t know if she wanted to turn down an opportunity with someone like Rafe. She imagined that carefully controlled demeanor of his would shatter in the bedroom. He would want to dominate, and the power struggle she would give him would turn into an epic battle resulting in extreme satisfaction for both of them.

  She almost forgot to set up the table, so lost in thought, and she rushed through it, barely finishing as he returned with the drinks. “Thanks,” she said, hoisting hers in a toast.

  “You’re welcome. Here’s to indoor sports.” Those jade eyes of his sparkled like the jewels they were, and Kira couldn’t help but laugh. He really was a work of art, and he had personality on top of it.

  Still, she drank, and then, she decided to up the ante. “I tell you what, tough guy. Let’s go best out of three. If I win, you owe me a ride. I want to go to the coast for the weekend.”

  He looked a little taken aback by the request, but then he shrugged. “Not likely, so it’s a deal.” Then, that crooked, cocky grin appeared again, making things churn low in Kira’s stomach. “And if I win?”

  She snorted, but her heart beat wildly in her chest, like some schoolgirl with her first crush paying attention to her. “Like you said, not likely. But what will it be, Rafe?” Damn, she even liked the feel of his name on her tongue. She perched a hip on the pool table, waiting for his response, wondering what exactly she hoped to hear.

  This time, when he stepped forward, he placed a hand on either side of her on the table, his lips hovering just above hers and his body heat radiating into her. She swallowed a whimper as his scent washed over her, oil and leather and citrus cologne. “I’ll take you for a ride. One that makes you want to scream for mercy before it’s over.”