Devil's Plaything: A Devil's Inferno World MC Novel

10. Cleo

Iscroll to the next video, giggling as the person does a spot on lip sync of a scene from Rush Hour. I’m taking a much-needed break from the Rebels’ clubhouse and Nitro’s interrogations. I’m grateful that he finally got my car running and, don’t get me wrong, I love my cousin, but he should know me well enough by now to know that the more he forbids something, the more I want to do it.

I take another bite of my burger before moving on to the next video. My eyes are still on my phone when I notice someone taking a French fry from my plate. Since I have my phone in one hand and my burger in the other, I don’t get to swat them away like I typically would.

“Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?” I ask Zeke, who slides into the booth beside me.

His stare darkens as he grins, daring to take another one. That right there is why my damn pussy quivers. Those eyes of his. That grin. The fact that I’ve been forbidden from seeing him again. It’s been two weeks and I haven’t forgotten how his dick feels inside of me.

“I guess you’re that type,” I say, staring right at him.

“What type is that, sweetheart?”

“The type that has zero respect for others.”

I move my plate further away from him, which of course, doesn’t stop him.

“If you mean I don’t give a shit, you’d be right.”

I look over at him, studying those dark eyes of his. It’s almost scary how there’s no emotion there but then I see it. This flicker of…something…I don’t know what. But there’s definitely something there. Something I don’t think anyone else sees in him. Instead of calling him on it, I let it go. I hold my burger over to him and he grins before he takes a huge bite, nipping my finger in the process.

He’s a bad guy. He’s a bad guy.

I’ve been warned. I know the things he’s done. He tried to kill Lizzie. He shot my cousin. He is a bad guy.

Damn, the bad guys are fun, though.

He licks his lips, catching the stray drop of ketchup, and I almost kiss him. Almost. Pulling back, I try to get my shit together. He’s a temptation and I don’t allow myself to be controlled by temptation. I don’t allow myself to be controlled, period.

“I guess you’re that type,” he says, mocking my words.

“What type is that, sweetheart?” I dish it right back to him.

“The type that teases a man until he’s as hard as stone.”

The bulge in his jeans is evident, outlining his cock. I can even see his piercing.

“A tease is someone who doesn’t deliver. Who makes a man hard and leaves him to jack off in the shower,” I say and cup his dick. “I’m not a tease.”