Chapter 1

ONE

I threw back the rest of my whiskey and looked across the low round table to the two men across from me. I waited for the Japanese blend to work its magic.

No such luck.

The burn was still present.

“Have you spoken to Jack?” I asked Saint “Pete” Young.

“Respect, Wilson, you know I wouldn’t do that shit.”

He wouldn’t. That was why he was taking time having this meet when he should’ve been visiting with his sister Mia the night before her wedding.

But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t poach one of my men.

“We have a situation in Honduras.” Pete paused to look over at former DEA Agent Beckett Yates. Now clean-shaven, fresh haircut, and in a suit. Beckett looked nothing like his undercover persona Butch, though he hadn’t yet lost the wariness. After years undercover, I figured that would take a while. “Beck will be joining us in San Diego, but I need Jack. He knows the Eastern Caribbean Lowlands better than anyone I know.”

This was true. Jack had spent a lot of his military career in Central America.

I didn’t want to lose Jack.

But I was going to lose him all the same.

Fuck.

“My team won’t be happy,” I noted.

Pete set his empty glass on the table and leaned forward. His eyes glinted with unleashed anger.

“Your team will give their blessing when we lay out the mission,” he countered. “Every thirty-six hours a woman dies in La Lima. Femicide isn’t on the rise, it’s at the peak. The time to step up was years ago when the gangs took over. Now it’s way past time and I’m making it my mission to end the terror. Women are no longer safe to be alone in their own homes. They can’t walk to the store, they can’t work, they can’t be out with friends without the risk of dying. This has to end.”

The man wasn’t wrong—it was time to put an end to femicide and Jack would be all over this operation and he’d have my team’s blessing.

“Whatever you need from Takeback,” I conceded.

Pete sat back and relaxed.

“Right now all I need is Jack but in the future we might need backup.”

“Then you’ll have it.”

“Appreciated. Hate to cut this short but I need to get back to Mia and find Cole so I can threaten to kick his ass again if he fucks over my sister.”

There was no chance Cole would fuck over Mia, he’d waited decades to have her again. However it was a brother’s duty to threaten the man who was marrying his baby sister.

“And Beck needs to get back to San Diego before someone sees him. Though not many Horsemen are still around after the takedown and I’m not sure the ones who aren’t behind bars are observant enough to recognize him now that he’s lost the dirty biker look.”

Dirty biker look was an understatement. By the end of Beckett’s time undercover he looked beat down and disheveled. As for the Horsemen, I wasn’t giving any of those assholes any more of my time. Zeus dying put an end to the DEA’s investigation. The members who Brasco and the DEA had evidence on were locked up, the rest—and there were only a handful not caught up in the sweep—scrambled.

The Horsemen were no more.

Thank fuck.

“How’s sunny CA treating you?” I asked Beck.

“Breathing clean.”

Two words that said it all.

“Pleased for you.” I turned back to Pete. “Don’t get into a bust-up with Cole. It’d suck if you had a fat lip and a black eye in your sister’s wedding pictures.”

Saint “Pete” Young smiled. It was the kind of smile a man had when he knew his sister had found a good man who would make it his mission to make her happy.

“Yeah, that’d suck. See you tomorrow.”

I sat back in the plush chair in the corner of the bar and watched the men make their exit.

Fuck, I was losing Jack.

Now that the Horsemen were down and Brasco and River weren’t on edge it was time for Takeback to get back to work.

I shot off a text to my contact at Homeland to let him know we were available.

Before I could pocket my phone it buzzed in my hand.

Good timing. Two weeks. Las Vegas.

Las Vegas had earned its nickname honestly; there was no shortage of sin.

I sent a return text confirming we were in and stood to leave when a beautiful woman at the bar caught my attention.

Brunette, pretty face, full lips, curvy in all the right places, long legs, and alone.

Just my type.

I made a detour to the bar, left a stool between us, and sat down.

The bartender made his approach just as the woman turned to look at me.

Now that I was close I could see her big brown eyes were better than those long legs. And I was a sucker for tall women. My wife had been blonde, blue-eyed, and short. In the years she’d been gone I hadn’t touched a blonde or a woman who didn’t have some height.

“Another Hibiki?” the bartender asked.

“That and whatever she’s having.”

“Boulevardier. Makers,” the woman smoothly put in. “And thank you.”

The bartender made his leave and I went back to the woman.

“I’m Wilson.”

“Atlee.”

Unusual name.

“Fitting.”

“What is?”

“Your name.”

Those brown eyes lit with humor.

“Is this where you give me some cheesy pick-up line?”

Her smile was alluring, but her wit was what had me ensnared.

“I don’t do cheesy pick-up lines.”

“Are there non-cheesy pick-up lines?”

Oh, yeah, I was enthralled.

“Not that I know of.”

Our drinks were placed in front of us. I picked up mine, motioned for her to do the same, and offered a toast.

“To a night full of orgasms.”

She smiled wider and asked, “Would those be yours or mine?”

“Depends on what your plans are for tonight.”

Our glasses were still close but untouched when Atlee volleyed, “I hope we’re not toasting to a night of self-love. That would be disappointing.”

Totally dig this woman.

“Finish your drink, Atlee.”

I clinked mine against hers.

She took a healthy swallow.

I was losing Jack.

But that was a tomorrow problem.

Tonight, I had Atlee.

* * *

I tappedthe key card on the hotel room door. The electronic lock disengaging seemed to echo in the deserted hallway.

Was I crazy taking a man I didn’t know back to my room?

Yes.

It was more than a little crazy and all kinds of stupid but I couldn’t find it in me to turn down Wilson’s offer of a night full of orgasms.

When was the last time that had happened?

Never.

Sex had always been okayish.

Not earth-shattering. Not mind-bending. Not steal my breath and leave me panting.

There was something about Wilson—an air of confidence that made me believe he could and would deliver on his promise.

And I wanted that. Just once. Just for the night. Then I’d go back to okayish sex with mildly good-looking men who needed help finding my nipples, forget my clit. I highly doubted Wilson would need help finding either.

Before I could open the door Wilson fitted himself against my back and his fingers circled my wrist on the handle.

“Before you open the door and invite me in, make sure this is what you want.”

His head was dipped, his lips close to my ear, his breath fanned over my neck causing a shiver to roll over me.

“This can end here,” he went on. “A nice night sharing a drink with a beautiful woman.”

Oh, shit, maybe he’s having second thoughts.

I hadn’t thought of that.

But now that the idea had lodged itself in my mind I couldn’t push it aside.

“Have you changed your mind?”

“This isn’t about me, Atlee. It’s about making sure this is what you want.”

That wasn’t the answer I was hoping for.

Not that I knew exactly what I was hoping for. But a ‘I want you to invite me into your room more than I want my next breath’ would’ve been more along the lines of helping ease my worry.

Did men even say flowery stuff like ‘next breath’?

“If you’ve—”

The rest of my attempt to let Wilson off the hook was cut short when he leaned deeper. Not only could I feel the steely outline of his erection on my ass but his lips were now teasing the shell of my ear.

“Does it feel like I’ve changed my mind?” His sexy voice rumbled.

I shook my head.

“So, tell me, Atlee.” My name sounded like a purr. “Are you positive you want to invite me in?”

I nodded.

“Do you understand what I’m asking?”

I wasn’t sure of anything at that moment with the hard wall of his chest and the ridge of his dick pressing into my ass, but still I nodded.

“All you need to do is say no and everything stops.”

Right then ‘no’ wasn’t in my vocabulary.

“Now, invite me in, baby.”

With Wilson’s fingers still holding my wrist captive I pushed the door open.

And when I did, a whole new wonderous world opened.

A world I didn’t know existed and one I wished I’d remained oblivious to.

My first flash of this new, unexplored universe began as soon as the hotel room door clicked shut. I found myself spun around. Wilson’s hand shot up, hooked me around the back of the neck, and he yanked me closer.

His head tipped down.

I braced for a kiss that never came.

“Tell me one more time.” His voice was rough and jagged.

“I want this.”

His blue eyes roamed my face and for a moment I thought he was going to put a halt to our festivities.

The kiss came next.

A breath-stealing kiss that would forever be known as the best of my life.

Wilson whatever-his-last-name-was didn’t simply kiss with his mouth. His fingers around the back of my neck tightened, his other hand came up to cradle my jaw. He held me captive while he plundered. My arms dangled useless at my sides. My legs felt weak. My brain strained to keep up. But my body—the important parts—responded in a way they’d never done before.

My breasts felt heavy. My nipples pebbled. My panties became uncomfortably wet.

Desire ignited.

A rip-your-clothes-off-and-fuck-fast-and-hard need blossomed with every stroke of his tongue.

Nothing about this was okayish.

Suddenly we were moving. In some remote, vague part of my brain I hoped he knew that there was a step down into the sunken couch area just past the bed. The elevated section of the room gave a perfect, unobstructed view of Lake Coeur d’Alene from the bed.

And speaking of the bed…

I felt the edge of the mattress hit the back of my legs but before I could go down, Wilson stopped moving. His hand on my jaw fell away. Moments later I felt the tips of his fingers graze the wet satin of my panties. I was lost in sensation—his tongue stroked mine in time with the lazy caresses between my legs.

More.

I needed more.

So much so my body took what it needed and my hips rocked against his fingers.

Panic rose when Wilson retracted his hand. Relief flooded when I got it back, this time under my panties. Two thick fingers slid inside of me. The pad of his thumb pressing on my clit making tight, fast circles.

Now it was too much.

His kiss, his fingers, his thumb working my clit—all of it so good, I was on sensation overload. My orgasm built and I was nearing detonation when Wilson slowed his thumb.

I groaned my displeasure and I could swear I felt him smile through the kiss.

Bastard.

Never having done it before, acting purely on instinct, wanting more of Wilson—to touch him and drive him as crazy as he was driving me I reached between us and found his belt. It wasn’t a smooth seduction. I fumbled with the buckle and the button of his trousers. There was zero coordination when I yanked his shirt free and unbuttoned it. By the time I got my hands on his chest I was a vibrating mess of anticipation. The feel of his warm skin under my palms spurred me into action.

Hard, warm skin.

Boxed abs.

A sprinkling of hair—just enough to be sexy and manly.

My exploration took my hands lower. I unzipped his pants, shoved them down as far as I could, went back to the waistband of his boxers, then I found treasure. Thick, long, hard treasure I wanted to feel inside me.

I slowly stroked his dick using my thumb, smearing the excitement leaking from the tip around the smooth underside of his engorged head.

Wilson’s dick twitched in my hand, the feel of that more erotic than anything I’d ever felt. I increased my pace but only gave him what he was giving me—not enough to tip over but enough to teeter on the edge.

His hand on the back of my neck slid into my hair. He twisted a hank into his fist and yanked my head back. Suddenly his lips weren’t on mine. My eyes snapped opened and Wilson’s stormy baby blues came into focus and held me captive as he roughly fucked his fingers deeper, giving me back his thumb, sending me spiraling into oblivion.

My breath was trapped in my lungs.

All I could do was feel.

Every part of me was alive.

“Wilson.” His name whooshed out in one choppy plea.

“That’s it, Atlee. Give it, baby.”

My climax was right there.

Right. There.

Lingering.

But I didn’t want to give it. I wanted to stay right there forever suspended in space between floating and pleasure.

That place that made my muscles clench and my body lock in anticipation of what was to come.

So close.

Wilson gave my hair a sharp tug. Tingles spread over my scalp. Tiny pricks of pain that ratcheted up the potency of his ministrations.

“Give. It,” he demanded.

The need I heard in his jagged order tipped me over the edge.

White hot pleasure washed over me. I shook with it. My skin felt hot and tight like I was going to fly apart into a million pieces. The enormity of it so big I feared I’d never be the same. After tonight Wilson would take with him something I would never get back. Something that wasn’t his to have but he’d own it all the same.

My orgasm was still pulsing through me when I lost his fingers. It had yet to wane when my cute, tank dress was pulled over my head, forcing me to let go of the hard erection I was still stroking. I was barely coming back to myself when Wilson shifted and moved behind me. I felt something happening behind my back but my hazy mind was working double-time to just keep me upright.

One of Wilson’s arms snaked around me, his hand going to my bra, and he roughly yanked it down exposing my breast.

His fingers immediately homed in on my nipple and pinched.

No fumbling for Wilson whatever-his-last-name-was. Just like I knew he would, he’d found my clit and nipple with precision.

“Spread, Atlee.”

I stepped one sandaled foot to the side. I felt the head of his dick push inside but after that he stilled.

“Open your eyes and watch.”

I hadn’t realized I’d closed them.

Slowly they came open and once again I found it impossible to breathe.

The wall behind the bed was mirrored.

The whole wall.

There I was standing in front of Wilson mostly nude, save my bra that was askew.

Wilson behind me still in his suit with his shirt opened looking like a debauched businessman ready to conquer. His big hand at my breast, his fingers rolling my nipple. His dick inside me but just the tip.

Holy shit.

We looked hot.

My head fell back on his shoulder but I kept my gaze on the mirror.

“I want you to watch how beautiful you look when you come.”

With that he bent his knees, then drove up, thrusting inside so deep I went up on my toes.

His arm locked around me, holding me hostage as he pumped in and out with punishing thrusts. I fought to drag in oxygen while my lungs rebelled. This was breath-stealing—all of it. The erotic show in the mirror, the way Wilson’s gaze roamed while he watched himself fucking me.

“Do you like watching?” I panted.

His gaze snapped to mine and a smile appeared.

“I like watching you.”

In that case, I’d give him something to watch.

I pulled the other side of my bra down, cupped my neglected right breast, and mimicked what he was doing to my other nipple.

He rolled harder, so I did, too.

Watching us play with my nipples, Wilson’s wicked smile, the picture of virile male behind me, sent me back down the path of no return. He was building me up again only this time I wouldn’t be able to fight it. The feel of him still clothed, the scrape of the material against my bare skin added to the fantasy.

Me, good girl Atlee Levine fucking a stranger who hadn’t even taken off his clothes. And if that wasn’t enough I was totally getting off watching.

I felt empowered. Desired. Wanted. Sexy.

This beautiful man hadn’t even taken off his clothes before the need to fuck goodie-two-shoes Atlee had overwhelmed him.

Yeah, I felt empowered.

Free to be me.

And I wanted more.

So I took it.

My free hand went between my legs, my middle finger went to my clit, the tip of it grazing his hard shaft as he pounded into me.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”

“Says the man who’s hotter than sin.”

Wilson tipped his head down but kept his gaze on the mirror when he whispered, “Are you hiding dirty under all that pretty, baby?”

His question was laughable; I was as vanilla as they came.

Or at least good girl Atlee was.

Wilson’s one-night-stand Atlee wanted to find out the true definition of dirty.

“I’m willing to explore dirty.”

The five o’clock shadow Wilson sported abraded my neck when his mouth went to my shoulder.

“You might want to rethink that, sweet Atlee.”

His ominous warning sent shivers over my body—or was it his dick driving deeper?

“Why?” I puffed out.

He quickly pulled out and spun me around. His hands went to my ass and he lifted me off my feet. My legs automatically circled his waist and he planted me back on his dick.

Then I was on the bed, Wilson above me, a look of sensual ferocity that should’ve scared me but instead excited me beyond reason.

When Wilson didn’t move I locked my ankles, uncaring the heels of my wedge sandals were probably scratching his lower back. It was only fair; the buckle of his belt was digging into my thigh.

“Are you gonna stare at me all night or give me dirty?”

Wilson’s lips tipped up into a cocky smile.

“Neither. I’m gonna fucking own you.”

My next orgasm came moments later.

The one after that was pulled from me while Wilson’s mouth was between my legs.

Four and five came after we were both fully naked and that wondrous new world exploded all over my hotel room in the form of multiple orgasms.

By the time I passed out, I was wrung dry.

The next morning, regret crept in.

I was owned by a stranger who I’d never see again.

I slunk out of my hotel room leaving a piece of myself behind and a lame note explaining my absence.

Wilson whatever-his-last-name-was, was both the best and worst decision I ever made.