Author: Jaci Burton

“While you ride.”

“Exactly.”

“Sounds like a perfect life, as long as you can afford it.”

“What about you, Jessie? Can you afford to ride when you want?”

She shrugged. “I make do. Pick up jobs here and there. I don’t have much trouble making ends meet.”

He looked her up and down. “I’ll just bet you don’t.”

She felt Diaz’s presence behind her.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“Just talking,” Crush said.

“We’re discussing how we manage to have free time to ride,” Jessie offered, then told Diaz about Crush’s ownership of a garage with his brother. She hoped Diaz would grab a clue that she was fishing for information.

“Ah. Nice gig.”

“What about you, Diaz? What do you do?” Crush asked.

“I’m independently wealthy. I don’t need to work.”

Crush arched a brow, studied Diaz for a minute, then tilted his head back and laughed. “That’s a good one.”

He’d been purposely vague. Crush probably appreciated it. And if Crush was, in fact, involved with the survivalists hiding out in these hills, that would be a perfect answer to give. Diaz had played it well.

They rode east for half the day, stopped at a burger joint to eat, then rode back. By then it was past nightfall and they enjoyed the festivities put on by the bike rally sponsors. It was well beyond midnight by the time Jessie, Spence, and Diaz escaped from Crush and his gang, with the promise they’d meet up in the morning and ride again.

When they got back to the hotel and parked their bikes, Spence said, “Look. There’s a girl who’s pretty tight with the upper echelon of Crush’s gang. She used to be the girlfriend of Rex, who’s Crush’s second in command or something. Anyway, she’s put her eye on me, so I’m going to follow up on that.”

“For business or for pleasure?” Diaz teased.

Spence flashed a wide grin. “A little of both, probably.”

Jessie laughed. “More pleasure with you, isn’t it, Spence?” “Hey, there are always perks to the job, babe,” he answered with a wink. “But the word is that Crush and the others think the two of you are a couple.”

“Why?” Diaz shot out.

Spence shrugged. “No idea, but that’s the way it’s going down. So you should play it out that way. And anyway, it’s protection for Jessie so she isn’t alone.”

Oh, she’d love to hear Diaz’s answer on that one. Now he was on the spot. He couldn’t very well back away from it.

“Sounds like a good idea to me,” she said.

Diaz frowned. “I guess.”

“We should share a room, then. Couples don’t have separate rooms. I’ll check out of mine while you notify the front desk we’ll be bunking up together.”

Before Diaz could object, she said good night to Spence, who said he was going to ride back to the main street and hook up with Stephanie. Then she went up to her room to pack. By the time she opened the door to her room, Diaz was standing there.

“What?” she asked. “I was just coming over.”

“I changed rooms.”

She cocked her head to the side. “Why?”

“My room only had one bed.”

“So?”

He rolled his eyes and grabbed her bag. “Come on.”

When he opened the door to the new room, she smothered her laugh.

Two double beds. She tossed her bag on one of the beds and turned to him.

“What’s the matter, Diaz? Don’t trust yourself to sleep in the same bed with me?”

He stalked over to her, one slow step at a time while she admired the way he moved. When he stopped, he was mere inches away.

“Jessie, if I was in the same bed with you, there’d be very little sleeping going on.”

Oh. My. God. There it was, exactly what she’d wanted to hear. Her heart slammed against her chest and her entire body went liquid. She couldn’t catch her breath, and she was pretty certain her toes curled. And didn’t it just figure, he’d tossed out the perfect line and she couldn’t find her voice for a comeback.

“Oh.”

That was it? That was all she could manage?

His eyes, so dark and sexy and giving her that look . . . that look . . . spoke volumes. But then he backed up a few steps and turned around, breaking the sensual spell he’d wound around her.

She finally exhaled.

Well, that seemed like a good start. But he’d stopped, and that wasn’t good. Time to step things up a bit. She unpacked and grabbed a couple of things. “I’m going to take a shower.”

From the look on Diaz’s face one would think she said she was about to perform brain surgery on herself in the bathroom. He looked a little green. She closed the door to the bathroom, undressed, and turned the water on, taking her time washing up, hoping Diaz was out there thinking about what she was doing in here.

She even hummed a tune, making sure he could hear her, that she had his attention and he wouldn’t forget about her and where she was. She finished her shower, dried off and dressed, then grabbed the lotion bottle and stepped out of the bathroom.

Diaz was at the desk, his back turned to her. She moved to the bed, came around to the side closest to him, and sat, setting the lotion on the table. She poured some lotion onto her hands and spread it over her legs.

It didn’t take long. Diaz lifted his head, inhaled, and took a slow glance over his shoulder, almost as if he was afraid what he might see.

His brows knit in a tight frown.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his tone more accusatory than curious.

She paused. “Um, putting on lotion?”

His gaze narrowed further. “Why?”

“Because my skin will get dry if I don’t.”

She had to fight hard not to burst out laughing as he stared her down like she was an international spy and lying through her teeth.

“Couldn’t you put some clothes on? Geez, Jessie.”

She looked down at her terry cloth shorts and tank top. “What? This is what I sleep in.”

“Nearly everything is showing.”

“Really?” She looked down. She was covered. Granted, not by much, but that was the intent. “I can’t see anything.”

“Those shorts are so high up on your legs they damn near show a road map of the Promised Land. And that top hardly covers your . . . your . . .”

“Breasts?” she finished for him, biting the inside of her cheek to smother a laugh.

“Yes. Those. Hell, Jess, you might as well sleep naked,” he said, turning around and facing his laptop once again.

“I usually do,” she said to his back.

His fingers stilled on the laptop keys.

Gotcha.

She refused to be ignored. They were sharing a room—this was her chance. He was going to notice her, even if she did have to parade around naked. Hopefully, it wouldn’t come to that, though if he continued to avoid her like she was poison, she might have to resort to drastic measures. Because if initiation into the Devil’s Skulls meant what she thought it did, then she was going to need a favor from Diaz.

A huge, intimate favor. One she’d never ask of anyone else, because she wanted Diaz to do the honors.

She stood, bent over the bed, and propped one foot on the mattress, pouring more lotion onto her hands, her butt pointed in Diaz’s direction. A few seconds later she heard him breathing. Heavily. Then he pushed back from the desk and walked by her, grabbing his jacket.

“Where are you going?”

“Out.”

“Hang on a second and I’ll get dressed.” She hurried to the closet by the front door, blocking his exit, which didn’t seem to make him too happy. He slung the jacket over his shoulder.

“I’m going out alone, Jess.”

She slid the closet door closed and looked up at him. “Why?”

“Because I need some space.”

“That’s not what we’re supposed to be doing. We need to be seen together. We’re supposed to be a couple.”

“Even couples take breaks from each other. We’re not glued together.”

“Agreed, but we haven’t established ourselves as a couple yet. So why don’t you give me a second to change clothes and I’ll go with you.”

“No.”

That sounded rather final, and pretty much like an order. Jessie bristled as Diaz tried to push by her. She backed up against the door and crossed her arms.

“Move,” he said.

“I don’t think so. Not until you tell me what bug crawled up your ass tonight.”

“Not in the mood for this, Jess. Now get out of my way.”

“This is stupid. Talk to me, Diaz. Let me go with you. Let’s do our job together.”

“This isn’t about the job.”

“Then what is it about?”

“It’s about . . . just move or I’ll move you. I need out.”

It was about her. “Then move me.”

“Goddammit Jessie.” Though he’d almost whispered the words, he slammed his hands up against the door, placing them on either side of her shoulders, pinning her there between the door and his huge body.

Tension, thick and hot, coiled around her middle. Her belly did flip-flops, her clit trembling at being so near to him. She swallowed, her throat gone dry as her entire body became aware of him, his scent, the need to reach out and touch him. Every nerve ending tingled.

She wanted this, wanted him to lean in and take her. Couldn’t he see that, couldn’t he read the signals?

Do it, Diaz. Take what you want. Because she damn well knew he wanted her, that he was fighting it. She could feel it in the coiled-up muscles bunching against his T-shirt, the way he shifted, leaning in just a fraction of an inch closer to her. She tilted her head back, her gaze meeting his head-on.

I want you. Oh, God, why couldn’t she just say it? But she couldn’t make her mouth work, couldn’t make the words spill from her lips. She knew why—because she wanted him to do it, needed him to make that first move.

The first glide of his hands along her upper arms made her tremble with excitement.

Followed by the crush of disappointment as he pulled her out of the way, opened the door, and closed it behind him.

She stared at that door for a few long minutes, stunned that he’d just walked out on her. On them. On what could have been.

For the second time, they’d been this close, and he’d slammed the door in her face.

What the hell was wrong with that man?

DIAZ RODE HIS BIKE LIKE DEMONS FROM THE BOWELS OF HELL were after him.

Maybe they were.

He’d caught up and rode with a few other bikers, then found a deserted stretch of road, let the throttle out, and just flew, trying to clear his head. He rode for over an hour, then turned around and headed back, pulling over when he arrived back in town. He found a bar and parked his bike, located a nice dark corner, and ordered a beer, content with the loud music and no one bothering him.

Though that wasn’t true. He was bothered, all right.

When he’d closed the door on Jessie earlier he’d been shaking. Shaking! A man like him wasn’t supposed to fall apart just because some sweet young thing shook her ass at him. Where was his goddamn self-control?

Nowhere to be found, apparently, whenever Jess was around.

Parading around half naked, teasing him like that. Did she do that with all the guys she met?

Don’t. Go. There. He didn’t want to think about Jessie and other guys, didn’t want to know what she’d done with any other man. His mind conjured up plenty of things he’d like to do with her. He didn’t need any other visuals. Walking around with a perpetual hard-on was torture. He was going to have to figure out a way to survive this mission.