Not afraid? Yeah, right. Jessie had called it right. She scared the shit out of him.
It took him a few minutes to regain the ability to breathe normally.
One woman. One small woman, and she sent his entire nervous system haywire. He should be able to handle her, to ignore her. But he couldn’t, because one look at her, one whiff of her unique scent and he was like a freakin’ bloodhound, salivating and on the hunt. How was he going to do this assignment, be an effective leader, with Jessie underfoot? How was he going to remain immune?
He dragged both hands through his hair, pushing off from the door to pace the small confines of his room.
Priorities. Taking down the gunrunners was his objective. He’d have to compartmentalize Jessie to that place in his mind where she didn’t exist. Or jack off a lot while he was alone, to ease the stress of having her near. His c**k twitched, aching for touch, but it wasn’t his hands it wanted. It was Jessie’s. Her hands, her mouth, her pu**y.
Tough. His dick was just going to have to suffer, because he wasn’t going to f**k her. Even though it seemed she’d wanted that tonight. She’d put one hell of a move on him. Any other guy would have taken what she’d so obviously offered.
She was playing a dangerous game with him. But Jessie was a kid. She didn’t know what she wanted. It was going to be up to Diaz to show restraint.
He groaned. This assignment was going to be like a long ride into hell.
FOUR
JESSIE PACED HER ROOM, STARING AT THE CLOCK, WAITING FOR the appropriate time to meet up with Diaz and Spence. The roaring sounds of bikers zipping up and down the street woke her early, though she hadn’t managed much sleep anyway. Her thoughts had been occupied with Diaz most of the night. She’d tossed and turned, her body on fire from being close to him.
Close, but not close enough.
Diaz was a man. All man. Loaded with testosterone. She’d all but impaled herself on him, and what had he done? Tossed her out the door, politely but firmly, and sent her to her room.
Her cheeks flamed in embarrassment at the memory of being rejected.
Maybe she just didn’t turn him on.
No, that wasn’t it. She’d gotten a look between his legs, at the hard ridge of his erection so prominently outlined against his jeans. She shuddered at the thought of his hard c**k riding between her legs, stroking the flame that burned incessantly inside her. She’d made no secret of her desire for him last night, so why hadn’t he taken what she offered? Why had he held back, pushed her away?
Jessie was determined to find out. She never had been one to give up easily.
She turned at the knock at her door and opened it to find Spence leaning against the doorjamb.
“Diaz says we ride. You ready?”
She grinned. “Always.”
They rode into the main part of town and found a cozy little restaurant overlooking the main drag to eat breakfast. There, they could watch all the bikers ride up and down the street. Perfect venue to catch a glimpse of Crush and his gang in case they rode by.
“See anything last night?” Diaz asked Spence.
“Yeah. Bikes. Lots of them. And chicks. Lots of those, too. But no Devil’s Skulls and no Crush Daniels.”
Jessie smiled and scooped up another forkful of scrambled eggs.
Diaz frowned, which seemed to be his favorite expression. “Let’s hope we haven’t wasted our time coming here.”
“We haven’t. He’ll be here,” Jessie said.
“How do you know?” Diaz countered.
“Because he told me he’d be here, and because it said so on the Skulls’ website last night.”
“Y’all were on the Internet?” Spence asked.
“Yeah. Diaz brought his laptop.”
“Geek,” Spence said before lifting his coffee cup to his lips for a long swallow.
“Someone has to do the research around here.”
“Yeah, but someone who looks like you should be kicking ass, not burying your head in a computer.”
“I can kick ass, too. Want me to show you?”
Jessie shook her head. She was used to this constant bickering among all the guys. It was typically more a show of bravado and teasing than anger at each other, though she’d seen some rousing displays of machismo in the boxing ring at the Wild Riders’ workout room, one of her favorite pastimes. Nothing like bare-chested, sweaty men going at it, with straining muscles and oozing testosterone while they worked on their skills. Yumm. She might think of most of these guys as family, but the fact of the matter was, none of them were blood relatives and she didn’t at all mind ogling their fine bodies.
In fact, she made sure to be in the gym when Diaz was working out with the guys. Seeing his body straining with effort as he lifted weights or boxed, his face and torso dripping with sweat, the lines of concentration on his face as he worked hard to master whatever skill he targeted . . . it was droolworthy. She’d go in the gym on the pretense of using the weight equipment, run on the treadmill or go a few rounds punching the speed bag, but her gaze would inevitably shift to Diaz, to admire the bunching of his muscles in the ring as he and Spence went a few rounds, wishing it was Diaz and her in the ring alone . . . playing together.
The guys would often box with her, though not seriously since any one of them could knock her flat. But it was good practice for her footwork, stamina, and learning to duck a punch and give one back. These guys were tough and they’d taught her how to be even tougher than she’d been on the street. Unfortunately, Diaz never offered to work out with her. As was typical, he avoided her.
She was determined to figure out why.
Her breakfast finished, she sipped her coffee and gazed out the window. That’s when she caught sight of the white skull with the red devil eyes on the T-shirt of a biker zooming by. She sat up straighter, focused, and watched as a few more rode by the restaurant.
“They’re here,” she said, keeping her voice low, not tearing her gaze away from the window.
“Where?” Diaz asked.
“A few just rode by.”
“Did you see Crush?”
“Not yet.”
“Let’s go.”
They paid the bill and hopped on their bikes, joining in with the throng of bikers cruising up and down the main street. Riding the main drag was a chance to see and be seen, to show off your bike and look for friends.
“Be casual,” Diaz said at a red light. “If you spot Crush, just let us know but don’t be too obvious.”