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was looking at her like she was the most desirable woman in the world.

He might say no, but that was lip service, doing what he felt was right.

He’d rescued her twice in as many days. Who the fuck did that? Most people couldn’t be bothered to keep to their half of the sidewalk, and Quake had searched two days to find her.

Rory knew how to seduce him. She’d done it before. Pulling off her top, she stripped for him, wanting nothing between them. Pushing against his chest, she undid his fly, pulled out his erection, straddled his hips, and impaled herself on his cock.

“Shh,” she whispered. “It’s okay. It’s okay. Just let me . . .”

He did. Sensing that’s what she needed, he let her take control, using him to remind her what it was like to be with someone by choice, someone who would see to both her pleasure and his. She rode him like an Amazon, fighting to reclaim her femininity, reveling in the second orgasm he gave her and the third.

And then it was his turn to claim what she allowed him to, flipping her onto her back, lifting her hips, and pile-driving into her like a goddamn fucking machine. His respiration grew harsh. His rhythm splintered. When he started to pull out, she locked her ankles around his waist and refused to let him go.

He grunted his release, breath hissing between clenched teeth. A keening sound almost of pain escaped him when he couldn’t keep from coming inside her, pouring hot torrents of semen into her depths.

“There,” she crooned, rubbing her palms on his pecs. “There. It’s alright.”

His body sagged. Grimacing, he shook his head. “I shouldn’t have . . .”

“It’s okay,” she assured him. “I’m covered. My shot’s good for two more months.”

He seemed relieved to hear it.

Not half as relieved as she felt after Khan and Phantom had both taken her bareback.

“I have condoms. I could have wrapped up,” he confessed. “I could have pulled out, but it felt too damned good to stop.”

The old cliché line—Was it as good for you as it was for me?—ran in her head like a closed caption. She nearly smiled because there was no way it felt better to him.

Gargoyle dick was damn addictive.

“I didn’t want you to. But I’ve made us messy. Doc offered to let us shower. I was letting the others go first. Let me see if the bathroom’s free. If it is, we can clean up.”

Rory unlocked her ankles and let him pull out. He fished out a neatly folded bandana from his pocket and tucked it in her crotch to plug the cum leaking out. Slipping on her sweatpants and top, she slipped out of their room and tiptoed down the hall, listening for sounds from the bathroom.

It was blessedly quiet.

She knocked on the door just in case.

No one answered.

Hurrying back, she caught Quake’s hand and pulled him after her, feeling almost like a pubescent teen sneaking out to meet a boy. Except he was a man. More than a man. He was a badass biker. A gargoyle shifter whose code of honor compelled him to help, not hurt. To protect the innocent, not prey on them.

He thought she was beautiful.

She felt it in his hands as they stood beneath the shower and he washed her body with such exquisite care. She felt it in his fingers when he insisted on shampooing her hair for her, massaging her scalp and working the lather through her waist-length locks, making certain he’d rinsed out the suds before he conditioned it. She saw it in his eyes while he was drying her hair and their gazes met in the mirror.

God bless it, he seemed like everything she’d ever wanted in a man and there was no way she could have him. He belonged to his club. She belonged to Madam Belle.

For now.

Things wouldn’t always be this way, she told herself. One of these days, she’d leave The Pole Barn behind and start the next chapter of her life. If Quake was still interested . . . , if he hadn’t already moved on or found someone else . . . , she’d be open to hooking up again and seeing how things went from there.

“You can stay if you like,” she offered. Pulling up her sweatpants and reaching for her top, she flashed the girls at him as added incentive, reminding him of what could be his for the night.

Quake zipped up his jeans and tried to find the openings in his long-sleeved shirt amidst all the rips. Flexing his pecs to tease her back, he gave her a panty-melting smile. “Or you could come with,” he countered. “I guarantee my bed’s more comfortable than that air mattress. We just need to let Doc know I’ve got you and tell Madam Belle you’ve got a ride home in the morning. Besides, I owe you breakfast.”

She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. “Can you cook?”

He grinned unapologetically. “Come with me, and you’ll find out.”

She didn’t know if he could cook, but she didn’t really care, the way he was turning on the charm.

“Bed and breakfast? Tempting. Just so you know, if I agree to come, it’s because you promised me a comfortable bed.”

Quake dipped his head and kissed her senseless. “Say yes,” he breathed.

Rory smiled against his lips. “Alright. I’ll come. Let me call Madam Belle.”

She had to leave a message, but Belle would get it eventually. Quake made a quick call to Stone and let him know he was headed out. “I’ve got a one-plus,” he told him, giving him a head’s up without telling him more.

His President seemed to know anyway. Half the clubhouse was waiting for them when they opened the front entrance door and stepped inside what looked to be a common room that the members shared.

One of the younger ones nudged the Viking-looking one and whispered, “You owe me ten.”

Quake slipped his arm protectively around her waist and tucked her

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