Axel had spent the past twenty-four hours thinking about the sweet little blonde he’d rescued, and how he’d watched her walk away. It was better that way. What did he have to offer someone like her? She deserved moonlit walks, candlelight dinners, and some expensive piece of jewelry that showed he was devoted to her. What she’d get with him was a leather jacket that said Property of Axel, a cabin in the middle of nowhere, and a lot of rough sex. And just because his beast wanted her, it didn’t mean he’d be faithful to her. Axel wasn’t sure he was capable of such a thing. A variety of pussy was available twenty-four-seven at the clubhouse, and he certainly liked to indulge.

So why aren’t you getting your cock wet right now? Because he couldn’t get a hard-on, that’s why. Maybe he’d imbibed a little too much. The row of shot glasses was enough proof that he’d tried to drown the thoughts of Amelia, unsuccessfully. The party girls dancing on the table in front of him didn’t even get the slightest rise out of his cock. He was starting to wonder if the damn thing was broken.

Shelly climbed off the table and straddled his lap, pressing her naked breasts against his chest and grinding her naked pussy against the fly of his jeans. He didn’t touch her, didn’t encourage her. Of course, he didn’t shove her away either. She gyrated on top of him, her perky breasts swaying with her body, tempting him to reach out and take a taste. Except, he wasn’t all that tempted. She was a pretty woman, and her pussy was just as good as the next, but something told him Amelia’s was far superior.

The front door opened and closed, but Axel watched the woman in his lap. There were some hoots and hollers, but Axel stared at the perky breasts in front of his face. Whatever the commotion, it couldn’t be better than a naked women, could it? There was a growled “hell no” a moment before he saw her. At least, he thought it was her. Amelia was decked out in a micro-mini skirt that clung to her curves, a barely-there top, and fuck me heels. He felt his jaw slacken as he took her in, completely unprepared for what she did next.

“No way in hell are you grinding your skank ass on my mate!” Amelia snatched Shelly by the hair, dragging her off Axel’s lap. The woman shrieked and fell to her knees on the floor, but Amelia wasn’t done with her.

Axel stood and followed as Amelia dragged a shrieking Shelly by her hair through the clubhouse. She kicked open the door, threw Shelly onto the porch, then planted her foot on the woman’s ass and sent her rolling down the steps. Turning to face him, she folded her arms over her chest, set her jaw, and proceeded to glare at him. And damned if he didn’t find that to be the hottest thing he’d ever seen.

“Mind telling me what crawled up your ass?” Axel asked, tamping down his excitement.

She whipped out her hand and poked him in the chest with her long, slender finger. “You. Belong. To. Me.”

He arched a brow and stared down at her. “And what makes you think I belong to anyone? I’m a free man, Amelia. I can fuck whatever pussy I want, whenever I want.” He scanned her from head to toe. “Maybe you need a lesson in how a relationship works with a biker. You’re either an old lady or a party girl, and baby, I don’t recall making you my old lady.”

Sparks flared in her eyes as she stepped closer, her body nearly touching his. “Then maybe I should take up some of the men on their offers?”

Like hell! With a growl, he bent and pressed his shoulder into her abdomen, then stood, bracing her on his shoulder. As he strode through the clubhouse toward the rooms in back, oblivious to the catcalls surrounding them, he couldn’t help but notice how great she smelled, how soft she felt….and how she wasn’t struggling. He had to wonder if he hadn’t just played directly into her delicate little hands.

Fuck! Score: 1 Amelia, 0 Axel. He had to hand it to her; she’d played her part perfectly, and played him like a damn fiddle.