Ruled (Outlaws #3)

The thought of Jake made her stomach roil. It was hard to look at anything in Foxworth without thinking of him. He was ingrained in every inch of this town. She was the one who’d found Foxworth and decided to make it a permanent base, but Jake had turned it into something better, something she’d never even dreamed of. It was his idea to raid the nearby factories for sheet metal, his idea to erect the gates around the main stretch of town. His idea to form alliances with the shadier Enforcers, offering them sex and booze in exchange for protection and invisibility.

Foxworth was their creation. He’d been its king, and she his queen. A queen who’d murdered him for the crown.

No, not for the crown. For them—Reese looked around at the thirty or so people filling the room.

A little more than eighty people resided in Foxworth, but not all of them were original members of the group. Some were nomads who’d wandered up to the gates long after Jake’s death. Others were old acquaintances who’d found their way back to the area. But the ones who’d known Jake . . . the ones who’d suffered at his hands . . . they were the ones she’d saved from the man she’d loved.

Jake had needed to be stopped.

She’d stopped him.

“So who’s it going to be?”

Reese tensed as Rylan came up beside her. He held a tumbler of amber liquid in one big hand, tapping his thumb against the glass.

“Who’s going to be what?” she muttered. As always, his presence threw her guard up a hundred feet.

“The man who’ll be getting the gift of your pussy tonight.” His blue eyes flickered with irritation. “I’d be happy if you chose me, but that’s probably hoping for too much, huh?”

“You’re right about that.”

Rylan chuckled and handed her his glass. “Drink?”

“You trying to liquor me up, honey?”

He blinked innocently. “Nah, you looked thirsty.”

A laugh slipped out, but she still accepted the glass and took a long swig. Bourbon, she noted as the alcohol slid down her throat. She wondered if Rylan had picked it because he knew she had a hard-on for bourbon, or if it was a coincidence.

After another sip, she handed the glass back. “Getting me drunk won’t impair my judgment, you know. I’m even more stubborn when I’m wasted.”

He laughed too, and the deep, husky sound tickled a place she didn’t want associated with this man. She fought a smile, but it broke free when she noticed the very obvious bulge in his pants. Rylan seemed to sport a permanent erection, as if he expected he might have to whip out his dick at a moment’s notice and always wanted to be prepared.

“Seriously, gorgeous, would it kill you to say yes?” Rylan leaned in so close that his lips brushed her ear. “You know I’d make it good for you.”

She had no doubt. But Rylan was too damn dangerous to spread her legs for. Forget the fact that he physically resembled her ex-lover, with his golden hair and vivid blue eyes. That was an issue, sure, but not an insurmountable one. He and Jake might look vaguely the same, but Reese knew from experience that no man fucked the same.

No, it was the other resemblance between Rylan and Jake that scared her—the reckless streak. Rylan didn’t seem to give a shit whether he lived or died. He breezed through life as if it were a game. One he evidently didn’t care about winning, otherwise he wouldn’t throw himself headfirst into dangerous situations without a single care for his well-being. And although he took orders from Connor Mackenzie, Reese knew he’d disobey his leader in a heartbeat if it struck his fancy.

Granted, he didn’t seem to crave power the way Jake had, but the motives behind Rylan’s actions didn’t matter. Like Jake, he was too impulsive. Dangerously so.

A man who didn’t think before he acted was a man who couldn’t be controlled.

And for a woman who carefully planned every move she made, that was the issue. She refused to let another loose cannon into her bed, especially when she was well aware that men like Jake and Rylan were her weakness.

“You know who else would make it good for me?” she said sweetly. “Beckett.”

Rylan followed her gaze to the tattooed man across the room. Beckett was laughing at something his friend Travis had said. “Beck’s a decent lay,” Rylan agreed. “But he’s not what you need tonight. Too playful.”

She raised an eyebrow. “And what do I need tonight?”

“With all the adrenaline from the raid still burning in your blood? You need a good, hard dicking, gorgeous.” He nodded to their left. “Nash could probably give it to you.”

Reese glanced at the man in question. Nash’s rugged features and lean frame were definitely appealing, but she wasn’t really feeling him tonight.

“It’s too bad Lennox isn’t here. He’d give it to you as hard as you wanted.” Rylan grinned. “But he’s a one-woman man these days, so maybe it’s a good thing he’s at Con’s camp. This way your poor ego doesn’t have to take a hit every time he rejects you.”

She narrowed her eyes. But she couldn’t argue with that. Lennox had made it clear that he was with Jamie now and not interested in screwing anyone else. And Jamie had made it clear what would happen if Reese made a play for Lennox’s bed ever again—that little bitch had beaten the shit out of Reese the last time they’d crossed paths.

Not that Reese held a grudge. She’d be possessive of Lennox too, if he was her man.

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