The rumble of a motorcycle roared next to them. As Rylan looked out the window, he made out long red hair streaming out the bottom of a black wool hat, and leather-clad legs wrapped around a man big enough to be mistaken for a mountain.
The fit of his pants became impossibly tight as he stared at Reese, the outlaw queen. There wasn’t a man who saw her that didn’t instantly want to fuck her. Or if there was, Rylan hadn’t met him and didn’t want to. He couldn’t stand ridiculous jackasses who were turned off by a woman as strong as steel.
He wondered if Sloan could feel the heat of Reese’s pussy as she plastered her body against the man’s back. Now that was where Rylan wanted to be. Not cooped up with Mr. Sourface, but out on the open road with Reese wrapped around him. One of her hands would be attached to his dick, which meant they’d have to stop at some point so he could bend her over the side of the bike and fuck her until she was too weak to walk. Then, when they got to Foxworth, they’d shower, fuck again, get into bed, and fuck some more.
His cock couldn’t get stiffer.
“You’re gonna permanently damage something downstairs if you don’t get yourself under control,” Xander remarked.
“Shit, man, the condition of my hard-on is what gets you to talk? Why don’t you reach over and do something about it?” Rylan waved a hand toward his lap. Anything but his own touch would be a welcome relief these days.
“Pass.”
Beside the truck, Sloan gunned the motorcycle’s engine and the vehicle jumped past them, heading for Foxworth. Reese didn’t even look Rylan’s way.
There was a name for men who constantly chased after what they couldn’t have. Scratch that. Several names: Idiot. Fool. Ass.
But Rylan couldn’t turn off his desire, even if he wanted to.
He had options, of course. Jamie might be off the table because she’d finally hooked Lennox—or rather, Lennox had woken the fuck up and realized if he didn’t make his claim, he was going to lose Jamie. But even without Jamie, there were other options at Connor’s camp. Layla. Piper. And Connor and Hudson would definitely invite him to join them. They both enjoyed his company—Connor, because he loved making Hudson happy, and Hudson, because, well, Rylan was shit hot in bed. But afterward, he’d still have to go back to sleep in his cabin and think about the fact that they were starting a war.
Or . . . he could throw himself at the tigress. Who cared if he got scratched up a little? Better than being dead. Besides, Xan was right. If he didn’t do something about the spike in his pants, there was going to be damage. If not to his head, then to his body.
He rolled down the window and looked behind him. Ten lengths back was Beckett’s vehicle. Beck was the mechanic at Foxworth. “Pull over and drop me off,” Rylan told Xander.
The other man tilted his head. “You think she’s gonna say yes this time after months of saying no?”
“You only lose the fights you never enter,” Rylan quipped.
Maybe if he was lucky, Reese would finally throw him a bone.
*
Sloan didn’t knock as he entered Reese’s room. She would’ve laughed if he had, telling him he had as much right to the space as she did. But the space he wanted most was in her bed—the one she was sitting on as he closed the door behind him.
Her tanned, toned, bare legs stretched out in front of her as she toweled her hair dry. A faded blue T-shirt clung to her ripe tits. The skin at her throat, around her cheeks, on the tops of her silky thighs, was flushed from the heat of her recent shower. Her body was an unintentional invitation to feast.
He wanted to run his fingers over her legs. No, his tongue. He’d lick his way up, part her thighs, and . . .
Fuck. He shut down those fantasies quick before his wood became too awkward to hide. Then he strode angrily to the far wall and stared out the window—seeing nothing but golden skin, wet strands of red hair, swaying breasts, and whisper-thin cotton that teased rather than disguised.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. “Is it the raid? It was almost too easy, wasn’t it?”
Her uncertainty shamed him. She was shouldering a huge load, and here he was, feeling sorry for himself like a baby bitch. Swallowing his inappropriate desire, Sloan turned to face her. “No. It seemed easy because you planned it flawlessly.”
She didn’t respond, but he could tell by the look on her face exactly what was going on. She was tunneling deep into her own head, second-guessing herself.
He cursed inwardly, but gentled his voice. “Reese.”
She pressed her lips together for a moment, and then the shield dropped. “I’m scared.”
Sloan’s heart turned over. He was the only one who got to see her like this, the only one she trusted enough to see her uncertain and frightened. Outside this room, she cloaked herself in impenetrable armor. She fought and fucked with verve. There wasn’t a person better suited to lead this rebellion than Reese.