5. The Good Fight （Hannah）

5

The Good Fight (Hannah)

I t was early morning, and I fought the good fight.

Despite my worries, Dust was a total gentleman the whole night through. At some point, his arm strayed over to my side. I woke up with it wrapped around my waist, the tattoos inked in his skin shining beneath the sun.

Why didn't I push it away, or wriggle out of his grasp? Deep down, I already knew.

He made me crave his lips again, even when I just laid there and looked at them, studying the rough contours and tiny scars in his strong face.

He made me wet like nobody else ever had. Sure, I had a weakness for men with loud bikes and ferocious tattoos. Went with the territory in the dirty, dangerous place I'd grown up in, especially after Firefly found his place among their ranks.

Dusty made me think about taking my V-card and burning it in the worst way, and that wasn't going to change. Not when we finally got up and went about our day, or when I inevitably thought about him again the next time I wandered through my phone's contacts .

My nerves tingled in the best ways. Lust, fear, adrenaline, and disbelief all clashed in my blood, raging louder than the tremendous storms that swept over us last night, landing us in the same bed.

It wouldn't take much to give away everything now, if I wanted.

My instinct was raw, hungry, urging me over and over to pull the covers down, climb on top of him, and start to lick every sweet inch of his gorgeous skin.

Obviously, I had bigger problems to deal with once he brought me home. I'd need a whole new build for my app to cover everything, including the bastards telling me I'd die if I didn't cover their asses, too.

Thinking about what Dusty thought in his dreams each time he groaned should've been the least of my worries. But the biggest, baddest, most beautiful problem I'd ever seen was sprawled out next to me, his hand pulling at my hip a little more each time his face twitched in his sleep.

If only I could've given into him for a single second. Just reached out, touched him, slid one hand down the delicious stubble covering his cheek. Maybe it would've wrecked my worries for the rest of the day, cast Dom and his devils into the dark and dirty part of my head where they belonged.

My fingers stiffened. Slowly, my hand came up, moving toward Dust's face.

One little stroke, I told myself, just enough to feel his skin. I was nearly to his cheek when his eyelids opened, so suddenly I gasped.

Two bright, fearless grey eyes stared into mine, beaming with total control. If he was surprised, he didn't show it.

“I-I'm sorry,” I stammered. “I was trying to get the change you threw on your nightstand. Just wanted to get a drink from the vending machine, maybe see if they had a little coffee. I would've paid you back, obviously.”

The boy had talent.

How the hell did he tie my tongue in knots and make my heart beat a hundred miles an hour over nothing? Damn.

Those steel grey eyes piercing into my soul narrowed, and the ghost of a smile tugged at his lips. “Looked more like you were thirsty for somethin' else, darlin'. You want some of that, be my guest any time. Funny, I always thought you'd at least say good mornin' first before moving straight to fuckin'.”

“That's not what I was after,” I lied, turning around in the sheets and pulling them tight, dragging myself out of his grip. “I told you already, I was thirsty.”

“Mm-hmm,” he said, rolling on his back, barely suppressing a smug smile. “Soda machine's down the hall. You take whatever you need off my nightstand, or below my belt line. Your choice, Hannah.”

I stood, keeping the sheet around me. It wasn't like he was blind to my body, seeing how I'd stripped down to my bra and panties. Still, I'd lose it if he had a second look with that expression on his face.

“Actually, I think I need a shower. Why don't you go find us something to help wake ourselves up? I could really use a snack, too. Haven't eaten since the crappy salad they served on the plane last night.”

“Whatever you say, babe. I'll take care of all your needs.”

God! Is there anything he won't say that isn't loaded with innuendo?

I seriously had to stop and wonder how much was Dusty screwing with me, and how much was in my head, making it worse.

My nose wrinkled, unsure whether I was more annoyed with him or myself for getting wetter the longer he stared at me, the more he teased.

I couldn't even fire back. Sauntering past him, I held my sheet tighter, grabbing my little suitcase for a fresh change of clothes.

The long, cool shower helped. I took my time, hoping to God he'd be dressed and looking normal by the time I stepped out.

We'd started the day on a bad note. I wasn't going to deal with his biker bastard flirting the whole way back to Knoxville, even if it was only a short stretch home.

A couple hours on his bike might be an eternity with this kind of tension hanging in the balance.

No, we had to go on. Which meant touching his stupidly huge, hard, arrogant body, feeling him bristle with joy whenever my hands moved a little too low on his abs for their own good.

I hated this ridiculous dance, wilder than the pheromones that must've swirled around us every time we shared the same room. Hated it straight down to my core, which ached like a fiend for Dusty's hands, his lips, his savage, sexy threats smoldering in my ear.

Hated it.

Hated myself.

Hated him and his defiantly gorgeous looks, his testosterone incarnate, his ability to put every woman under a spell that made her want to drop panties and slide down on his stereotypically huge cock.

By the time I stepped out of the shower, dried myself off, and changed my clothes, I pressed my ear against the door, listening intently for him outside. The TV was on low, a morning weather report or something droning in the background.

Had he gone out to get us food and coffee? At least it meant he was up and about, which hopefully meant dressed, too.

Of course, I had to turn my head and catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. There I was, bent over with my ear cocked against the door, worried I couldn't handle a naked man in the next room when I'd just walked away from the latest round of death threats.

Ridiculous. I jerked up, blushing, annoyed with myself for trying to spy on him like an anxious little schoolgirl.

I'd only known him half my adult life, after all. He was a fixture in the distance since the time Huck started wearing his prospect patch, bringing us spare food, giving rides, and doing everything to support a family down on its luck like a good brother in the MC should.

Club life fascinated me. Maybe my more sensible side had done everything in its power to run from the past, forget I ever lived in a trailer with meth addicts down the block, and had to fight to learn everything I knew because the defeated teachers at the run down school we went to stopped caring a long time ago.

I rose above all that. Made myself better. I'd been on track for riches, fame, stability, maybe a good man in a button down shirt and tie with a graduate degree...and then I took that fucking loan from a bloodthirsty shark, and blew my life to pieces.

It always came back to where it started, didn't it? Dust was practically family. My big brother's friend and boss since I'd been old enough to understand what those patches meant, and why that space between my legs began to burn every time I looked at him long enough.

The issue between us – the reason why we'd never be friends or one night stands or even more than that – didn't have anything to do with me being 'too good for him.' The drama it would create in the club with Firefly and everybody else didn't even matter either.

None of it did. I had to keep my distance, screw my head on, and pretend we didn't want to rip each other's clothes off for one simple reason.

He was everything I ran away from.

Just a big, handsome anchor threatening to yank me back to my roots, and that scared the ever loving crap out of me.

“Hey.” His fist banged gently on the door, practically making me jump out of my skin. “Your coffee's getting cold, darlin'. Everything okay in there? ”

I held my breath and grabbed the doorknob, tugging it open. My eyebrows went up as soon as I saw him, two mugs in one hand, and dressed...mostly.

“What the hell happened to your shirt?” I said, grudgingly taking the coffee and raising it to my lips.

“Still soaked from last night. I ain't wearing a cloth with holes in it sprouting mildew the whole way home. Having this cut slung over my shoulders will have to do.”

Great. Not only did I have to hang onto him while we took the twists and turns through the mountains, I needed to cling to his naked abs underneath the open leather vest.

“Brought you some biscuits and gravy from the place up the street. Firefly always said you two loved 'em growing up.”

Whatever else I felt, my stomach growled, reminding me that none of this craziness was worth passing up my favorite breakfast.

We sat down on our bed, tucking into our food. This town had to be tiny, judging by the lack of infrastructure and stores glowing through the rain, but somebody here knew how to cook.

“Wow. These just might be the best I've ever had since grandma's.” Remembering her brought a smile to my lips.

“Yeah?” Dust asked, taking another huge bite of his own. “Never knew your granny could still cook when she was around. Firefly said her arthritis got real bad before she passed. Damned fine lady, I met her a couple times before I went into the Navy.”

“Oh, no, she could barely hold her hands steady enough to measure flour by the end. But nobody could stop that woman from fixing her Sunday breakfasts. I think she would've walked over hot coals and broken glass to do it. Best square meal of the week Huck and me had, really, especially after mama couldn't work anymore.”

He nodded. “Here's to breakfast. We might have a reason to see this little town again someday.”

“We?” I asked, taking another big sip of coffee, eyeing him over my cup.

“Sure.” Dust smiled, realizing his mistake, running one hand through the salt and pepper stubble on his chin. “I don't close the door on nothing, darlin'. Maybe that's part of getting older and wiser, who the fuck knows. Truth is, I'm certain I'll be coming through these parts again with my boys when we decide to take a nice slice of Georgia for the club. Always a chance I might come back on my own someday, too, maybe with a lady at my side.”

“Won't be me. Don't get your hopes up, Dusty.” I turned my face to my food, cheeks warming, hating myself for sounding like such a bitch.

“You sure love hiding how you really feel, don't you, darlin'? Far as I'm concerned, we had ourselves a great time on this little getaway, even if I didn't find out what's underneath those bright purple panties you wore to bed.”

More wicked heat rushed straight to my face, licking my cheeks bright red. His hand cupped my shoulder, gradually winding its way down my arm, leaving me covered in goosebumps.

“Don't ever think we don't have an understanding. I know you want it just as bad as I do, but we've both got a hundred reasons it won't happen. It can't. Last time I'm teasing, Hannah. Let's finish up our grub and check the fuck outta here.”

Ugh. Why did I seem so disappointed that this might be the last time today, or ever?

We finished our breakfast in peace, and then I got my stuff together, following him outside. It only took a few minutes to check out before we headed to the parking lot.

It was a warm day for early summer. The humidity in the air started adding an extra curl to my naturally wavy hair in just a few seconds. One more thing I didn't need as I tucked as much as I could into my helmet, slid down on the back seat, and curled my hands around his waist.

“You good?” he asked, just before starting up the engine.

“Yeah, Dusty. For real.”

Like hell I am. I lied through my teeth for about the tenth time since we'd gotten together last night, but it wasn't like I had another option.

We took off into the high mid-day sun, relishing the shade from the trees along the winding roads. Didn't even stop for gas the whole way to the Smokies, his engine purring a reassuring white noise that nearly put me in a trance.

Honestly, I welcomed it. Needed something to forget about his warm skin against my fingertips, slabs of rock hard muscle more built than most men half his age. With a few more years on him, he could've been my father, or at least a solid stand in for my big brother .

Didn't matter whatsoever. My heart craved what it liked, and that desire sizzled every time we took the winding exits or climbed the elevation home, pushing my hands just a little more firmly into his immaculate flesh.

He was a bastard, a killer, a beast from a world I only understood because Dom dragged me into it. None of it stopped me from wanting him, and that steady, constant attraction turned me into a sticky summer mess by the time we were on Knoxville's streets.

We took the long way through town, heading for the outskirts, where I had my big, beautiful home just past the gate. Funny to think Huck and Cora shared it not so long ago, back when they were in trouble, enjoying more passion there than I ever had.

Dust pulled up to the gate before he helped me off, his engine still rumbling, making words difficult. At least, the kind of words I wanted to say, whispers about how fucking hard it was to step away without so much as a goodbye kiss.

“Take care of yourself, darlin'. We'll see each other at the clubhouse or some shit soon enough. If you're ever in a bind again, you've got my number.” He smiled, all southern gentleman behind his smug lips and savage exterior.

“Dusty...” For a second, we stopped and stared, as soon as I said his name.

There was only one way to tell him what I'd wanted to say the last fifty miles home. Fuck it.

I leaned forward, dragging my fingernails through his short, dark hair, catching the tightest hold I could while I brought my mouth to his .

Forget the lightning when we'd kissed before. This was a hurricane, straight plasma hitting my system and igniting every single nerve. Probably the pent up want, the need coursing through me, the insane, unworkable desires I'd fought like hell to suppress.

It was the knowledge that this couldn't work, however badly we wanted it to. It was our bodies in full on mutiny with our hearts and our heads.

If he'd picked me up, thrown me back on his bike, and driven us to some secluded place, I wouldn't have stopped him.

But he pulled away, a familiar glint fading in his grey eyes like embers dying in burnt charcoal. “Darlin', you need to go. Now. Kiss me like that again, and I'm following you inside.”

We exchanged one last smile before I turned my back, heading through the gate.

If we couldn't do what we really wanted, then at least I could thank him for the ride. I'd given him a real kiss goodbye.

I must've held my breath the whole way through my gate, across the long driveway leading to my home, and didn't let it out until I was inside. Then I collapsed against the wall, my chest rising and falling in shallow waves, rapid as my heartbeat.

We'd just had our last real kiss as a couple never meant to be. It gave me a shred of relief, sure, but it also tangled up my stomach into pure grief now that I was finally alone.

I'd see him again, no doubt about it. But we would never, ever lock lips like that.

It ended today.

I had to let this go, for my good and his. Didn't mean it wouldn't sting like an utter bitch. Worse than the hot, bitter tears sliding down my cheeks, whenever I finally let everything I'd been holding for several hundred miles come pouring out.

Four Weeks Later

My phone rang and I picked it up. Whenever I saw Unavailable on the screen, every hair on my body stood on end. I was probably the only person in the world praying for a telemarketer.

“Hello?” I answered, drawing in a breath.

The man was quiet for the first thirty seconds, before he slowly, angrily cleared his throat. “You got our shit loaded yet, or what?”

“Dom.” Just saying his name turned my blood cold. “I'm not in front of my screen right now. If you want all the technicals, I can take a look. I –“

“Nah, peach, you know I fuckin' don't. I pass all that along to Brandon, who understands what the fuck you're saying when you talk about algorithms and structures. I want you to tell me it's done, and nothing about it's gonna be a problem.”

I bit my tongue to stop everything I wanted to say from coming out. “You know I asked for more guidance when I sent you that text last week. I said there might be a security loophole that's a little beyond my means to figure out. You want this rushed, without giving me the right time and resources? Then I'm telling you mistakes will happen that could put us all at risk.”

“Excuse me, bitch. Are you trying to tell me I'm wrong?”

Obviously, you stupid fucking jackass, I thought, seizing every fiber of willpower I had to keep from mouthing off to a monster.

“No,” I said quietly. “I'm saying I need you to run this by your own technical team, see if maybe they can fix the vulnerability. I don't know how to approach it. I'm stumbling around in the dark.”

“You're putting me on.” Dom paused.

About two tense seconds ticked by before the explosion hit me in the ear, so loud and sudden I had to hold my phone away.

“After everything we've done, you're putting me the fuck on! Probably setting me up for a goddamned fucking sting, thinking I'm a chump!”

My heart went wild, banging against my ribs. I peaked around the corner, pressing the phone to my ear, wondering if he already had his men outside. They could've been waiting for the faintest signal to come crashing through the window and slash my throat.

“Dom, that's a little paranoid, don't you think?” I asked, trying to sound sweet instead of petrified. “What reason would I possibly have for going to the police? I'd lose out on my money, my house, probably wind up in a jail cell right next to you. Besides, my brother's in the Deadly Pistols, and working with cops isn't really in our makeup.”

“Shut up,” he snapped. “Shut up, you lying fucking cunt. I'll have my boys run a check on every fucking file you've sent, every text, every voice mail over the past couple months. If I see anything suspicious – anything at all – you're coming cross country for another face-to-face. Don't bother flying, we'll send somebody for you, and it'll be a one way trip.”

“Go ahead, do it, if it'll make you feel better,” I whispered, like a woman trying to tame a lion preparing to pounce. “I've got nothing to hide. If anything, I'm trying to work with you, figure out how we can hide the routing junk in the app so neither of us gets busted.”

“That's your goddamned problem,” he growled. “You think we loaned you several mil just so you could drop the fucking ball when you got your pretty little head into some coding quagmire you couldn't handle? You oughta be working your little fingers to the bone instead of jerking off those biker fucks you call family. If you don't, every single one of them is dead, and you'll wish you were by the time we get done with you.”

I stood like stone, desperately searching for my happy place. Anything to send my psyche somewhere else before he reduced me to a sobbing, whimpering mess.

“Stop fucking crying. Tell me you'll fix this, peach. Tell me you know exactly what we're doing, and that we didn't make a big mistake wasting all this time, thinking you'd pay us back. If we're not getting our money, we'd might as well settle this shit now, the hard way.”

“I'm on it, Dom. I promise. Whatever it takes. Just...please. Have your team look things over. If they have a better fix than I do, you know I'll put it in. I'll get it right. I'll keep anybody who shouldn't be looking off both our asses, just like we agreed.”

“Yeah, Hannah. Just like that. You've got three days, and not an hour more.”

By the time I realize he killed the call, I'd dropped to my knees. I hovered over the floor, tears splashing the handcrafted tile, lovingly installed to complete my home after I hit my first quarter million week in revenue.

No denying it anymore. I hated this house, this fucking prison, a fancy cell I'd built for myself with the finest materials.

That little trailer Huck and me grew up in didn't seem half bad compared to this. The neighborhood meth creeps never fucked with our place as long as we flew the Pistols flag. And I never needed to install several locks on my bedroom door, a tiny deterrent that still wouldn't be enough to stop them from killing me in my sleep if they really wanted to.

Hell, I'd probably count myself lucky if they did. Dom's style was never quiet. I doubted he understood, much less respected, the fact that I was trying to save both of us from somebody with an eye for app development and an ear to the Feds from noticing a whole lot of damning transactions.

How many weeks had I worked on the fix? It had to be a solid month, except for four days where I wiped my eyes to go to a computer conference in Florida.

Now, I was back in my jail, wishing I could throw my trusty laptop on the counter straight off the deck and into the gardens below.

Knowing I had a few days wasn't going to make me feel better. I couldn't work with so much venom in my system. Fear, hate, and disappointment turned me into a fucking zombie, not a genius.

Wiping my red, angry eyes on my sleeve, I bent down and looked at my phone. I rolled through my contacts, debating whether or not I wanted to bother Huck or Cora. Talking about the baby on the way added a smile to my stressed-to-hell face.

No, not today. They didn't need to hear me breakdown when they told me about a beautiful little niece I might never live to see.

There was another number on my contacts, staring me in the face. Maybe it was finally time to take Dusty up on what he'd said the last time we'd spoken, when he let me off here after that unbelievably tense night in Georgia.

If you're ever in a bind again...

His words stuck in my head, one of the few promises any man had ever made me, that I knew wouldn't be broken.

A simple bind didn't begin to describe this slavery. I wasn't even sure if I wanted to tip him off just yet because it would put the club in serious peril.

Still, if that man did nothing else, he'd make me feel better. And right now, feeling like I wasn't about to die counted a whole hell of a lot.

“Hannah? It's been awhile,” he growled, as soon as the phone connected. “Too fuckin' long, darlin'.”

“Yeah.” So long I had to stop myself from spilling my soul through the phone. “Come over,” I told him.

“The fuck? Are you in trouble, woman? Tell me.”

“Nothing you need to worry about, Dusty.” I sighed after a long, tense pause. Another lie. “I want to catch up. I need you.”

“Give me ten.” All he said before the phone clicked dead.

I waited on the ivory painted bench outside my front door, looking across the fireflies dancing in the evening darkness. It wasn't even ten minutes when I heard a motorcycle rumbling just past the front gate.

I punched the code next to my front door to let him in, standing in the doorway while he approached, bringing his Harley and his gorgeous self to my doorstep like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Darlin'...what's going on?” he growled, sweeping me up into his powerful embrace.

In his embrace? Nothing. I was safe there.

His inked, muscular arms had a terrible way of making everything all right. Fire and brimstone could've been raining down around us, and it wouldn't have mattered.

Whatever power Dom and his minions had over me, it was gone like ash, stubbed out in the night the second I had Dusty here. Had him in all his growling, intense, mysteriously masculine glory.

“Just a lot on my plate lately,” I lied. “I'm lonely, Dust.”

“Lonely?” He pulled back, giving me a long, hard look.

I worried my eyes would betray me. If he stared into them long enough, would he see the turmoil, the man with the literal gun to my head?

Worse, he might've seen my mistakes. That stupid, ignorant little girl I'd been last year, snapping up a loan shark's bait because the bastard saw her shades of grey, and used them to put her in the fanciest handcuffs this side of the mountains.

“Just come in,” I said, reluctantly leaving his arms. “I'll fix us some drinks.”

Dust trailed me, whistling a little when we stepped into the gourmet kitchen, a massive room with artisan finishes and more appliances than I knew how to use. “Damn, girl. A boy could really fix himself some breakfast in here. Firefly said this place was fine, but I had no fuckin' clue.”

I smiled, reaching for whiskey and a couple glasses. Tried to ignore the bittersweet aftershocks his words left in my system.

“I'll take mine straight,” he growled, when he saw me throwing my cocktail together.

“Always so simple,” I said, smiling a little wider while I poured whiskey in his shot glass, and passed it to him. “You should really broaden your horizons one of these days.”

“Maybe I will, soon as I know why the hell you called me outta the blue, and wanted me over.” He paused. “Spending time alone raises the risk of something happening that shouldn't. I ain't a fool, Hannah. You're up to something if you're after me.”

Damn. He wasn't going to let it go, was he? I took a huge sip from my cocktail, and walked over, taking a seat next to him at the breakfast bar.

“You're so dramatic,” I said, rolling my eyes. “It's just work stuff. I wanted some company. There's no bigger conspiracy than that. It's nice to see you sometimes, Dusty, believe it or not. Even nicer when you aren't looking at me like a piece of meat.”

He smiled, downing his generous shot in a single gulp. “Darlin', you'd be the finest sirloin any boy ever had. If life's got you down, then that makes two of us.”

The way he clinked his empty glass on the counter surprised me. My eyes went wide, staring into his strong grey eyes, wondering.

“What's going on?” I asked, laying a hand tenderly on his shoulder. “Is it the club? Firefly cut me off pretty fast when we talked last week. I thought it was just the stress from Cora and the baby, but now I'm wondering if it's something else.”

“Joker,” he growled. “My damned Veep's been going straight off the rails lately. All because he's got some girl chasing his tail, and he's too big a fool to let her. Don't need that kinda shit with war coming.”

“War?” I repeated, watching him tense up. I realized how deadly serious this was getting, and he knew he'd said too much.

“We're settling our shit with the Deads soon once and for all. Gonna give my club the future it deserves, every single man and woman who's part of my family, including your brother. Also gonna make good on a promise I made a long time ago to my Veep and his kin.”

“Yeah? What kind of promise?”

He pushed his glass to the center of the counter. “I ain't letting that slip so easy. Pour me another drink.”

I didn't even argue. Just got up, took down the bottle, and this time left it there. He took another heavy shot before he looked at me again, grey eyes burning.

“Deads killed Joker's twin brother, Piece, a few years back. Put their Grandpa in a fuckin' nursing home from the stress. Dropped my poor Veep straight into hell and back, living with the grief every damned day, going crazy for it. And that's not the worst.”

“What do you mean? There's...more?”

“You said you wanted the whole story, right? I shouldn't be saying a damned thing about club biz, Hannah, but you...you've always been around. More level headed than anybody else attached to the MC. Smart enough to bootstrap your way outta the muck. In case you hadn't figured it out, I respect the fuck outta you.”

He reached into his pocket, bringing out his pipe and a thick steel lighter with the club's skull and smoking pistols carved in it. “It cool to have a nip in here? It's tobacco. Never been much for anything else.”

“Go ahead,” I told him, walking across the kitchen to open the nearest window.

“Yeah,” he said, a numb look rocking his face while he let the tobacco hit his bloodstream. “Worst fuckin' part about all this is, I lied to my own damned club. Nobody except Joker knows what really happened to Piece, and that's the way it's gotta stay 'til I can make revenge happen on my terms. If I'd told those boys years ago, they would've gone off like loose cannons, would've gotten themselves all killed. The Deads are a fuck of a lot bigger than us, and when we hit 'em, it has to be like lightning. We're only getting one chance at this. It's my job to hold down the ship just a little while longer, 'til we do.”

“Wow.” My heart dropped into my lower belly.

If there was next to no chance before of dropping my hostage situation in his lap, then there was absolute zero now.

I couldn't stand adding one more worry to his plate. And I wouldn't put my brother through it either, who'd jump at the chance to help Dust save me, if it ever slipped out what sort of danger I'd gotten myself into.

“Enough talk, beautiful. Firefly said you've got yourself a hell of a sound system here. Let's play some rock and roll. Forget all our bullshit for a few hours.”

Exactly what we needed. He was good at cheering people up, even his own big, fearsome self. I reached into my pocket for my phone, opened the app, and flicked on the radio.

Guitar chords and drums beat their way through half the house, piping through the high definition speakers I'd had put in everywhere.

“Gotta love Zeppelin, yeah? ”

“They're all right, but I'm more of a country girl,” I said haughtily, flicking my hair across my shoulder. “This'll do for now. Whatever makes you happy, Dusty. You're my guest.”

Snorting, he stood up, pouring more whiskey into his glass and mine. He passed mine, reaching behind my back with one arm, and pulling me close.

Before I realized what was happening, we were swaying in the middle of my kitchen. Whatever I imagined might go down today when I called him up, I never thought it would lead to me dancing with the club's biggest badass.

“Okay, Miss Country. Now that I'd told you the big secret, what's yours? Why am I really here?” Dust's whisper burned hot in my ear. “Can't just be because you're lonely, unless you really want this cock.”

I laughed, pushed roughly against his chest, until he steadied me.

“My client,” I said, trying to whimper when his hands ran down my back. “He's being a real dick lately, to be honest. Expecting me to work miracles without the time or resources to do it. I'm good, Dusty, but I'm not a genius.”

“No? Sounds like bullshit to me,” he growled, turning us around in a slow, controlled loop. “The fact that we're standing here in this place, soaking our asses on good Johnnie, dancing to the best damned beats I've heard outside the clubhouse tells me something different. Give yourself your dues, darlin'. You've done well, and you should enjoy it.”

Yeah, enjoy it, I thought. If only it were that simple .

If only I could loosen up, tell him what kind of trouble I was really in, without making anyone else suffer for my stupid debts. I brought my glass to my lips and drained the contents, wishing the fire would hurry up, turn everything in my head to sweet numbness.

“I'll try,” I said, another lie. “You know, there's something missing in my life. Everybody comes over here with their jaws hanging, but they don't see what's behind the scenes, what I'd really like to own someday. I guess that bothers me.”

“Yeah?” he asked, bringing his hand up my side, until it cupped my cheek in his rough palm. “Woman like you is awful close to having the whole world. What's she missing?”

Sanity. Safety. Both words I would've said if I could've been open and honest.

But that wasn't an option here, not if I wanted to keep this grin and bear it charade to myself.

“A good man. A family,” I said, thinking, dropping more truth I should've kept bottled up. “This place is huge, Dusty, and it's lonely. I want a man I can count on someday, with dinner around the table at six o'clock sharp, and the two-point-five kids I'm entitled to.”

“Aw, hell,” he said, smiling and shaking his head. “Thought you were after something that'd be hard as fuck to reach. What's the deal, darlin'? It's like you haven't noticed you're damned near perfect. With your brains, your looks, your success, and that sharp little mouth, you're gonna get your pick between billionaires and princes one fine day. No fuckin' ifs, ands, or buts about it. ”

He leaned into me, breathing in my scent. A movement like another shot of whiskey sent straight to my stomach, except this tingled in all the wrong places.

God, I wanted him. Just as badly as I yearned to throw down my worries, my fears, and the mountain of work I had waiting to save my life.

“What if rich guys and royalty aren't my type?” I whispered, rubbing uncontrollably against his chest.

“You mean you've got yourself a type?”

Obviously. And right now, the type of man who turned my blood to fire was up close and personal. So close it wouldn't take much effort to surrender totally.

No more talk. Words wouldn't tell him anything I hadn't already said.

I leaned in, grabbing at his cut for support, inhaling his natural cologne of leather, oil, and pure testosterone. We made the same move simultaneously, too much pent up hunger pouring out in waves.

Our lips crashed together, two starving fiends given a feast. We kissed, we bit, we passed so much tongue back and forth I could barely breathe.

Or maybe it was just the excitement from crashing through this taboo named Dusty yet again. We'd fought the good fight, trying to stay friends bound by the club.

We'd lost horribly.

Every dirty passion I'd wanted on my lips since that first night he'd given it to me exploded. Dragging us forward, he pinned me against the counter, tangling his fingers through my hair and tilting my face to his .

Then he leaned down, taking what he'd wanted for the last few months, everything I'd secretly wanted to give.

Dust growled into my mouth. My nipples rolled against his chest like stones through our clothes. He pushed between my legs and dry humped me, giving me every hard inch beneath his jeans. I wouldn't be able to take this for long before I started tearing off clothes, begging him to take me upstairs.

Every sense I had went into overdrive. The whole world beyond my kitchen suddenly seemed brighter, louder, given new life by the storm howling in my blood. My heart banged harder, a brute, rising tempo so true even my rational side could't ignore it.

This was everything I wanted. Escape, fantasy, and mad desire rolling into one.

Raw. Animal. Real.

“Oh, God!” My breath hitched. He'd moved his head down, stamping more fiery kisses against my throat.

Dust reached for my breast, cupped it like he owned it, and began to squeeze.

“Fuck, darlin'. Fuck. ” He barely came up from my cleavage for words.

My pussy turned into an aching mess between my legs. Paralyzed with such need I could barely twist and moan under him.

Was I going to fuck a man for the first time on my kitchen floor, or the marble counter? Definitely a good possibility.

Then a door slammed shut deep in the house, and everything came to a dead stop. Dust spun around, one hand on his gun, the other still meshed in my hair.

“What the fuck, Hannah? I called you like five times before coming –“

Firefly froze. He looked at us like he'd just walked in on a murder scene.

Hell, at some point, he probably had. This was much worse.

“Huck! What're you doing here?” I said, about to fall over.

I stood up, unlatching myself from Dust's strong grip. The Deadly Pistols' Prez took his hand off his gun and straightened up. All three of us tried to wipe the disbelief and horror off our faces.

The most awkward time of my life had officially arrived.

Firefly never answered my question. In two more seconds, he flew forward, getting in Dust's face, grabbing on his cut and snarling like a wild animal.

“After all that fuckin' shit you gave me about keeping my hands off Cora, you fuck around with my own goddamned sister?!”

I yelped, backing up, trying to keep away from the two-man tornado about to blow my fancy kitchen to smithereens. Firefly's hand pressed deeper into Dusty's neck, but the older, wiser man leashed his anger, and made his move several seconds later.

His knee went straight into my brother's guts with a loud whump!

Firefly hit the floor, banging his knees, swearing silently. He'd lost the oxygen in his lungs, totally winded by the blow.

“When you catch your breath, pick yourself up and get the fuck outta here, brother. I don't want to hurt you again.” Dust's voice seemed eerily calm behind the rage written on his face.

“Huck, I'm sorry, this wasn't supposed to happen...” I crouched down next to him, both hands on his shoulders, flashing Dusty a quick look. “Guys, no more fighting.”

Dust nodded, a growl stuck in his throat. I leaned closer to Huck, whispering in his ear. “Do you need anything?”

Shaking his head angrily, he stood up, almost doubling over again. He swore softly, leaned on my big stainless steel fridge for a minute, and then walked out.

I wanted to chase after him, but he was surprisingly quick for a man who'd just been sucker punched. Before I could take another step, the front door banged shut, and his bike rumbled in the distance.

“Let him go.” Dust laid a stern hand on my shoulder. “Fucking shit. Looks like we've both got ourselves a few more things to worry about, darlin'.”

I turned to him sadly, cold water thrown on my lust. “I'm sorry, Dusty. Don't know what came over me. We never should've started up like that, and my fucking brother really never should've seen anything.”

“Enough, babe. What's done is done,” he said, pushing his forehead against mine. “We're both stressed to hell and back. Nobody needs to apologize for a damned thing. Here's what'll happen – we're both sitting down with some water, listening to a little more music, and then I'm taking off.”

My heart sank. A thousand things ran through my mind at once, but one word was louder than the rest, needling me between the eyes.

Stay.

Stay, Dusty.

Please, for the love of everything good and holy, stay with me tonight.

Of course, I knew how stupid it would be to give those thoughts any voice. I turned my back, humming along to the music while I got us some water, and tried to pretend my world hadn't just gotten wrecked.

Dusty took his glass and sipped slowly, watching while I did the same.

“Do you really think it's going to be okay with Huck?” I tried my damnedest not to tremble or cry when I said it. Yeah, I was coming apart.

He narrowed his eyes. “Darlin', I know it'll be. Don't you worry about anything.”

“This is what we were afraid of, though. The whole reason we couldn't be together before. I can't stand it if he's going to get pissed, drive a wedge with you and the club, especially when we haven't even –“

I stopped myself before I said fucked.

Jesus, I wished we had.

“Haven't what, babe? Done something we really shouldn't for plenty of other reasons?” He raised his eyebrows, sweeping me up in those stormy eyes of his again. “ If he hadn't walked in, honest to God, I would've been balls deep in you, Hannah. I know it would've been good. Might've been the best fuck of our lives, but it would've been something else, too.”

My eyes went wide with wonder, and I leaned in, waiting for him to finish.

“A huge fuckin' mistake.”

I wrinkled my nose, turning my face away from him. Asshole.

Even if he was right, I didn't need to hear it right now. Didn't want to think it would be anything short of amazing.

“Darlin'...” He reached out to me, laying a possessive hand on my shoulder.

“Are you sober yet?” I snapped. “Because I really think you should go.”

“Sober enough,” he said coldly, standing up and smoothing his leather cut. “Let's not have any bad blood over this, sweetness. You'll always be like family to me, and so will your brother, even when he's planning to slip a knife in my spine over what he just saw.”

Refusing to speak, I sat there in killing silence, breathing each time I heard his heavy footsteps down the hall. Each one took him further away from my hidden, deeply personal hell. The monstrous situation I had to suffer, and suffer alone, without getting anybody else in the club stung over it.

Except, now that Huck had seen me coming undone with his Prez, something bad was bound to happen anyway.

I stood and crept up to the door, just quickly enough to see his motorcycle roar out through the open gate. Punching the key to lock myself in, I released the bitter sigh I'd been holding since he said his last words.

“Goodbye, Dusty. Try not to kill yourself or Huck over me. We could've had something real special, in another world.” Lonesome whispering only encouraged the tears stinging my eyes.

Another world. Easily something I'd never see as long as I lived, because I'd fallen too deep into a world that held nothing except darkness, greed, and soulless disappointment.