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  I didn’t, valuing the promise of a paycheck too much. Like the wolf he was, I knew he could sense that with the smirk that he gave me.

  “Ember. Don’t you hear the crowd? They want more out of you.”

  “It’s time for my break.”

  “You don’t need a break when there’s a crowd to please. What am I paying you for then, huh, If you just flit your little sparks away willy nilly?”

  “You’re paying me to perform, which I did. It’s my break now.”

  I could feel the eyes on the two of us, watching, even though he was speaking low enough for only me to hear him. It’d be uncomfortable if I wasn’t used to men treating me—and the other girls, really—as though we were property for what we did. But we were strong, and I was no exception.

  So it wasn’t uncomfortable, only infuriating, when he wrapped his arm around me and turned the two of us to properly face the crowd. He walked me back over toward the stage.

  “Ember here’s gonna give an encore!” he announced jovially. I tried to move away, only to have Jameson’s grip on me tighten at my bare waist. I gave him as subtle of a glare that I could manage. There was no room to argue now that he had gotten the crowd involved and made that open announcement.

  I made my way back over to the stage. He was lucky that the only one doing any dancing tonight was me, and there wasn’t anyone else ready and available to cover his ass.

  I pulled myself up to more rowdy cheers. This time they were joined by the louder, drunker cheers from some slightly sloppy boys from the bikers that had come in. I had no idea where they had come from or why they were there (I couldn’t imagine that they were rubbing elbows with the men who’d organized this gig) but I enjoyed the looks on the white-collars’ faces. They were so damn pompous and uptight that these uninvited bikers were probably an affront to their delicate sensibilities.

  I could have laughed at the notion of that and it was a public event, meaning that they couldn’t legally turn them away.

  I was ready to hop back up on the stage when I caught one of the bikers staring at me. Not just staring, though. They were boring into me. Burning. Like a scorching fire. The gaze was intense and the biker was just as intense. He was huge, all thick muscle and arms covered in tattoos. He had hair that was red like fire—like me—cut into a perfect undercut.

  I stopped in my tracks, taken by the intensity of this fiery biker. I wasn’t shy about me and I hadn’t been in a long time, but he actually made me flush. The heat rose up over my body, my face, and pooled heatedly in between my legs.

  “Ember.”

  Jameson spoke up, his voice annoyingly sing song, and I tossed a glare over my shoulder and back his way, letting him know that I didn’t need his shit. I pulled myself up onto the stage again, getting my fire lit. When I turned around again the biker had moved to the front, and he was watching me still.

  Intense.

  Fire blazing in his eyes.

  I was used to men looking at me with lust. It came with the territory, and I wasn’t really opposed to it, but I felt myself blazing hot inside with this man looking at me the way he was. I couldn’t take my eyes off him anymore than he took his eyes off me.

  He followed my every move. I was dancing for him—that’s what it felt like. It was almost like he knew it, too. There was a slight curve in his mouth, a smirk that had me flushing and dancing more intensely than I had before when it was just the rich boys and their rich friends that I was performing for. Jameson who? I forgot that he even existed in the moment.

  Biker Boy folded his arms over his chest as he watched me, shifting on his feet as though he were antsy while he was watching me. Was it possible to have such tension without actually being in the presence of someone else? Christ almighty, this man was driving me insane and we hadn’t even met.

  The cheers from the crowd were loud, but all I could pay any real attention to was this man in front of me, watching me as I spun about, as fire left trails of heat and sparks in its wake. This wasn’t what my performance was supposed to be about. I was the one that was supposed to captivate. I was the one that was supposed to entice. Not the other way around.

  And yet …

  I wanted to know this man, and that was a very, very dangerous thing.

  Chapter Two

  Wheeler

  We’d rolled in hearing about this little shindig through word of mouth. Apparently, the little rich boys of Silicone Valley wanted to party, and party hard. Nice little festival to show off their money to their buddies, pat each other on the back—pass around a little blow.

  That was what had brought us—Satan’s Sons—here. The rich boys wanted to party, and usually that wouldn’t be an issue, but the boss man had gotten word that they would be selling some high-end product under the rug while here too. Not a smart idea. Not in our territory.

  Honestly, any other day I would have been fine with moving along and letting the rich boys have their fun. But orders were orders and I wasn’t a Son to question orders, at least not openly. We’d already started making a little noise to crash the party and would make more by the end of the night. The others were excited for the opportunity, but I was looking forward to going home.

  At least I had been. Before I saw one of the main attractions performing on the stage. She’d been talking to some suit when I’d come over, but up there ... Goddamn.

  Pretty girl on the stage was on fire. Hair, thick and bright red, blazing. Her skimpy little bikini in scarlet and gold. Her little phoenix tattoo, peeking over her shoulder, matched too. She was hot ... all over. I didn’t have my heart in this child’s play, but I couldn’t say that I was interested in complaining about it anymore, either.

  She saw me watching her. Every twist and turn that had her gaze pulled from me led her right back anyway. I grinned at her—made her flush as she spun her fire around her. Fuck. That was pretty.

  Her skin was all creamy white and smooth. In the firelight, it was porcelain perfect and I wondered if it would be just as perfect up close. I wanted to touch her.

  Feel just how hot she was, you know?

  She was skilled, and I could see why she had been hired for this. She was an acrobat, flexible, and the way that she moved showed off a lot of her body. She moved like she had been doing this for years.

  I wanted my hands on her. Right on that tiny little waist of hers, specifically. It curved in and probably looked smaller than it actually was just because her bust and hips were so full. My kinda girl, really.

  Who even knew that women like that existed where I could actually see and touch and lust after them?

  I licked my lips, watching Fire Girl, thinking up all the ways I could get a piece of her before we dipped out for the night. We were supposed to make some kind of scene—maybe I could take her on the stage.

  I chuckled. No. that performance would be for me and for me alone. Just like this one was. I could tell that she was dancing for me whether she intended to be or not. Still, her eyes hadn’t left me. She was as fucking entranced as I was.

  Maybe a little too much.

  Fire Girl faltered, her eyes a little too hard on me (or maybe it was the other way around, I thought smugly, knowing that maybe I’d broken her concentration. And honestly? I was fine with that.) She recovered before she could drop her fire, though. Good. I liked a girl that could recover quick.

  I clapped with everyone else as Fire Girl stood and bowed to the crowd. Her chest rose and fell with her panted breaths. I couldn’t help but wonder if she would pant just as hard and pretty if she were under me ...

  Who said I couldn’t have some fun with my work, after all?

  I started toward Fire Girl. I wanted to talk to her. I wanted to know her name. I wanted to know if her mouth would taste as hot as flames, if she was spicy like cinnamon, and if she was as wild in bed as she was on the stage. I knew women like her—performers that didn’t stay in one place for long. They were always up for a good time, and if it was her breaktime, I’d make
it the best that she’d ever had.

  Unfortunately, my fun was interrupted. The same man that had spoken with her before I settled into the crowd got to her before I could. He and a group of his buddies walked over. Fire Girl didn’t look too impressed as she hopped down from the stage and tried walking away, over to a tent just a little ways from the stage, and the man stopped her. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and forcibly pulled her close to him. His hand came to rest on her ample, scantily-clad breast to squeeze. He laughed and started talking with his friends, as if this were acceptable behavior.

  Fire Girl didn’t look too happy about this touchy-feely man having his hands on her, definitely not nearly as much as this man seemed to enjoy having his hands on her, that was for certain. She knocked his hand away from her breast and sneered at him as she tried to move away from him. He only laughed, tugged her back to him, and placed his hand back where he seemed to think it belonged. He squeezed and pinched at her, making her jump—but I could see by the look on her face that it wasn’t out of any kind of pleasure, that was for certain. The audacity of this man disgusted me.

  Without hesitation, I walked over. It was one thing to flirt, but another one entirely to harass. Rich fucks didn’t get that, but I would show him.

  “There a problem?” I asked. I didn’t look at the men, but straight at Fire Girl. I wanted her to answer me. I wanted her to say when.

  I saw the man and his buddies eyeing me from my peripheral. They gave me looks filled with a contempt and caution that I was used to from others. You got that as much as you got reverence when you were so obviously a part of an MC.

  “Problem?” the man said. He sounded as slippery and slick as a weasel: untrustworthy. “No, there’s no problem here. We were just—”

  “I wasn’t talking to you, I was talking to the girl.” She hadn’t spoken yet, but had kept her eyes on me, cautiously curious about my interventions.

  The man, whoever he was, didn’t look too happy about being interrupted, and frankly, I didn’t care.

  “I—”

  The girl used the distraction to wiggle her way out of the man’s hold. He was too focused on staring me down to pull her back to him, offering her the escape that she deserved.

  “No problems now.” She smiled and moved herself nimbly away from the man—and closer to me. I smirked.

  “Good to hear. I’d hate to have to play bad guy on such a nice night.”

  “Excuse you, I employ her—”

  “And now I’m going on my break, so it’s fine. Right, Jameson?”

  I stared the man down after that question was posed. He looked between me and the Fire Girl, his gaze narrowing a little. He didn’t like that one bit. I would give him credit for one thing, though: he didn’t look afraid. So he may have been brave in that regard, but he wasn’t stupid—he smirked at me when he backed off.

  “An hour, Ember. Then you’re back on that stage or Wanda’s getting an earful about not delivering what was promised.”

  The man nodded his friends away and I watched to make sure that he and his friends stayed away. They walked off and Fire Girl—Ember—looked up at me.

  “Thanks. Jameson is an entitled, gross little shit,” she said.

  I laughed.

  “He’s rich and pretty, of course he is. Nice performance, by the way. I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”

  “So I noticed.”

  “You don’t have a problem with that, do you?”

  Ember stared at me, the honey ember of her eyes blazing. It looked like she was contemplating—did she give me the same treatment as her pal Jameson, or did she indulge in my flirtations? I got part of my answer in the form of another one of those pretty blushes of hers. Up close I could see that the redness on her face revealed a spattering of pretty freckles along her nose.

  Cute.

  “Well?” I prompted when she still didn’t answer.

  She opened her mouth to answer, but was distracted by a sound behind us.

  “Whoo!”

  “Hell yeah, man!”

  There was the sound of something big and metal falling over with a loud crash. I didn’t even bother looking back. I knew what the boys were here to do. Technically, I should be helping. Funny little thing about distractions, though.

  Ember’s eyes came back to me. I hadn’t taken mine off her.

  “Your boys are rowdy.”

  “They always are. Though, not my boys. I’m not their keeper.”

  Ember laughed. It was cute as hell and made her nose scrunch up a little and wrinkle.

  “Not mine, either. I’m going on break—”

  “You don’t want any company on your break, then?” I leaned forward. “I really liked your performance.”

  Ember scoffed, putting her hand on my chest. I liked how small it was in comparison to my body, and I didn’t move it out of the way.

  “What? You think you save the damsel in distress, you get a reward or something?” She started to walk back toward her tent, and I followed.

  She was being coy. I found that adorable.

  “I hardly think you’re a damsel, let alone a prize,” I said. “I just noticed that while I was watching you, you were watching me, and maybe we could do a little more together than watch each other.”

  Her lips quirked.

  I had her.

  I stepped closer to her. We were near her tent then, just outside it. Her hand was still on my chest and I put my hands on her hips. They were thick and ample and pretty as fuck. I squeezed, feeling the way her flesh gave beneath that grip. She pushed into my hand.

  “You got a firm grip.” She chuckled a little and slid her fingers over my hand. “But I get paid by these people and if they see me—”

  “No one’s gonna say anything to you.”

  “You’re pretty sure of that, big boy.”

  “I’m sure of a lot of things.” Like how sexy you’re going to look moaning my name, or how hot and tight you’re going to be when I take you from behind, or—

  We were distracted again.

  There was a loud crash behind us and raucous shouts. The boys were probably getting their party on hard now. Suit themselves. I had no interest in whatever it was they were going to do tonight anymore.

  I only had one thing on my mind: getting this pretty Fire Girl into her tent and under me before I had to either slow things down or hightail it on out of there.

  I was pretty certain that I was close to getting a kiss from her until she was distracted again by something else behind us. She suddenly pushed me away and yelled,

  “What the hell are they doing?!”

  I almost ignored the outburst, ready to pull her back to me, until I caught a huge flicker of light out of the corner of my eyes. I turned, and my eyes widened a little more.

  There were Sons running around, pulling down displays and other stages and booths. More than that, though, was the blazing fire that was from the stage that Ember had just performed on, and a bigger blaze that was kicking up dangerously close to the tree line of the forest that this music festival was being held in.

  “Assholes!”

  I couldn’t stop Ember when she dashed toward the stage, intent on trying to put out the blaze herself. Bad idea, but it was the idea that she had in her head anyway. Her equipment was being used to light shit up, that much I could tell. People were running around and shouting and on their phones.

  The air was hot.

  “Shit.”

  I groaned. This was more than causing a little bit of trouble. This was about to get far, far too much out of hand. And when I saw who was leading the bunch, I narrowed my eyes.

  “Yeah, gas this shit up! Light it up!”

  Leech, skinny ass, lanky piece of shit, was egging everyone on at the top of his lungs. I watched as he brought a bottle to his lips and downed the remaining beer in the bottle, tossing the glass into the flames to shatter. This riled up more people behind him, whooping and hollering, throwing glass everywhere w
hile there was more fire soaked by gas and alcohol. Goddamn it. I didn’t have the time to babysit this trouble-making little fuck! This was all way out of hand and way out of line for what we were supposed to be doing here.

  I ran forward, following after Ember. She was struggling with one of the other Sons, who was trying to douse more gas on the already growing flames. He was a hell of a lot bigger than she was, though, and she had no luck in pulling her equipment away from him.

  I’d give her this much: at least she tried. That counted.

  “Let go, asshole! What the hell are you doing?!”