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"You're mad," she whispered.
“I know you've fantasized about me. You just can't admit it."
"What makes you think I want you?"
"You've been looking at me for years. But hiding from me too. And I’ve been looking at you too, seeing past the biker bitch façade. Seeing you. The woman who saved me.”
She looked down at where my hand held hers, then back up at me. “This is some bullshit. Who put you up to this?” She tried to pull away from me. “And I don’t need saving, Boiler.”
“Maybe not,” I admitted. “But maybe I do.”
“Need me to come to your rescue again?”
“How about you let a man take charge for once.”
“Because I do the saving. Just like I saved your ass. I might be a woman, but I have bigger balls than you.”
“Pull down your pants and we can compare.”
She pulled her hand free, her expression hardening. “Don’t make this fucking ceasefire harder than it has to be. And you better keep your trap shut about what happened that night. Let it go. It didn’t mean shit.”
With a grin on my face, I watched her walk away. I’d been waiting three long years to get close to her. One thing was certain—whatever it took, I wasn’t going to let this go.
Chapter 4
Tank
The club was bumpin’, leather, whiskey, and the faint tang of burnt rubber all around me like a warm fuzzy blanket. The truce between the Hell on Heelz and the Seville Slayers was still fresh as a newborn baby, fragile as glass, and crying out constantly for attention.
Tonight’s gathering was the first real test of our uneasy peace. Slayers were at the Roost, our clubhouse for the pre-party, the one before our charity run for Breast Cancer, an event the Heelz organized yearly in honor of our founder’s mother, Leggs.
I strutted through the crowd, my boots clicking on the wood floor, chin up and shoulders back. The Hell on Heelz were holding their own, as always, surrounded by a mix of other bikers and weekend riders. But because of our truce Slayers were here, too.
The girls and I had claimed our usual spot, a table in the corner, close enough to the action but far enough to keep an eye on things.
Rage was in deep conversation with Brat and Riptide, the new power couple, while Pixie and Razor were engaged in a lively debate about the best route for our next ride and more importantly our next con. The usual chaos, but with an undercurrent of trouble.
And then, there he was. Boiler. The burly enforcer of the Slayers, the guy I’d saved all those years ago, back when we were supposed to be enemies. He was making his way toward me, cutting through the crowd like a hot knife through butter. My pulse quickened, but I wasn’t about to let him see that.
The way he acted at the meeting had caught me off guard. And I hated to be caught unaware. Boiler claimed there was something between us. Something unspoken all these years just because I avoided him like the plague. Man was dead wrong. I avoided him, sure, because he could talk about what happened that night, out me to my sisters. Although the girls wouldn’t fault me for saving a life. The Heelz were nothing like the Slayers.
Fact was, Boiler was the Slayers’ enforcer. Mean as all get out, bigger than a motherfucker, ex-military, just like my ex-husband. I had a type, an alpha bigger and meaner than me. Since leaving Jeff, I’d gotten bigger, my muscles toned, and my breasts done. Not to mention a whole hell of a lot meaner. Boiler was a whole lot tougher and larger than Jeff. So, he fit the bill. But I’d learned my lesson and swore off relationships.
“Tank.” His low voice rumbled through me.
“Boiler.” I folded my arms across my cleavage, raising an eyebrow. “Come to thank me for saving your ass?”
My sisters laughed.
He smirked, that cocky grin of his that made me want to slap him. Maybe kiss him. I thought that would throw him off. I asked him not to tell, but my closest sisters knew all.
“Maybe. Or maybe I’m here to see if you’ve finally learned some manners. I made you a lovely offer.”
I snorted. “Manners? From you? Please, you’re more likely to find a unicorn around here.”
His laugh was deep and genuine, and for a second, I almost forgot why I was supposed to be keeping my distance. “Well played, Tank. But seriously, thanks for that night. I owe you one.”
“Who’s keeping count?” I shot back, a playful glint in my eye.
