Chapter One
Maverick
Sturgis – Two Weeks Later
Maverick was in South Dakota at the biggest motorcycle rally in the world, where gettin’ wild was the assignment. Him and a few of his brothers were at the Full Throttle Saloon. The place was packed, and the live band was rocking out on stage. He had a drink in one hand, and a woman under each arm—both in hardly more than pasties and fishnet stockings.
They were tipsy and earnestly trying to turn him on, fondling each other’s breasts and kissing as they rubbed up against him. He should have been having a great time, halfway to drunk, and ready to fuck—but he wasn’t.
He was distracted and bored with the easy pussy.
Glancing over at Mustang and Tess, he saw his brother’s woman clinging to her man, their lips locked, both of them consumed in a kiss as if no one was watching.
This time, Maverick didn’t look away.
This time, he admitted that was what he wanted.
Two weeks ago, he wouldn’t have thought much of it.
Now, he couldn’t look at Tess without thinking of Jenna.
And he couldn’t think of Jenna without remembering that kiss.
In all his thirty-seven years, a woman had never plagued his mind the way she did his.
She had been a pain in his ass, but he liked that she was a bit of a challenge.
That foxy lady was equal parts class and sass, and he wanted her.
He hadn’t had to work for pussy in years —but Jenna was more than pussy.
She was the whole package.
He just wasn’t sure he was worthy of it.
It’s why he hadn’t called, in spite of the fact that he had her number.
The only woman who had ever truly chosen him for more than his dick was his Gran.
Maybe it was because he’d been wearing a Stallion kutte for nearly two decades; maybe it was because there was a time when all he wanted to do was party and fuck; maybe it was because he hadn’t seen it work out for most of his brothers—or maybe it was some of all of the above. What Maverick knew for certain was the last time he chased after someone worth the effort, he’d been in high school. Since he’d become a Stallion, women wanted his dick, but not much else.
Even the sheep who hung around the clubhouse, claiming they wanted a fully-patched member to make them ol’ ladies, they didn’t care which Stallion. They just wanted the status, and they were willing to offer their pussy to whomever would take it in their quest for the title. He’d indulged more than a few of them; but at their core, they were all the same.
Except, Jenna was no sheep.
That night at Steel Mustang, she’d flirted with him . The man, not the Stallion. She hadn’t thrown herself at him, she’d engaged with him. She was far from desperate. And when offered the chance to end the night in his bed, she’d chosen to do a good deed instead.
It should have pissed him off, but it didn’t.
She’d been a pain in his ass, worried about that bastard Mustang had taken care of, but he admired her tenacity. She was good . Likely too good for him.
Still, the longer he went without seeing her, the more he wanted her.
He assumed the opposite would happen, especially at a party like Sturgis, where there was no shortage of new faces and fresh pussy. But seeing Tess around as often as he did ensured Jenna was never too far from the forefront of his mind. It wasn’t just that the two women called each other best friend. It was the reminder that Mustang wasn’t so different than Maverick.
They had the same patch on their backs.
The same ink on their arms.
The same scars on their souls.
If Mustang could land a prize, maybe Maverick could, too.
The Stallions weren’t saints, but he’d sacrifice life and limb for his brothers. He’d found all the acceptance he thought he needed when he earned the patches that made him a Wild Stallion. For a long time, he thought the brotherhood was all he wanted.
Life was good. Pussy was easy.
But something told him Jenna would make life better than good.
And she sure as fuck would be more than an easy lay.
He just had to be better, too.
If he was going to have any chance at becoming worthy, he knew he would have to be better than the man who stood in a packed venue with a drink in his hand and a woman under each arm.
He looked down at the strangers, barely even remembering where he’d picked them up, but certain he was no longer in the mood. A decade ago, a couple of years ago—hell, two weeks ago—they would have been enough to satisfy his appetite. Now, they barely got his dick hard.
No way either of them could kiss him the way Jenna did.
With a mouth like a fucking goddess.
He glanced around at his brothers and spotted Rodeo nearby. He was one of their youngest, in his mid-twenties, and among the first recruits since the Stallions had undergone a massive leadership change four years prior. Everyone liked the guy, including Maverick.
No doubt, the sheep would worship at his feet.
“Hey—you see blondie over there?” he hollered as he began to push the drunk women in Rodeo’s direction. “Go suck his dick.”
They looked at each other, giggled, then went to do Maverick’s bidding.
Maverick shook his head, downed the rest of his beer, then left to return to the bar.
He was at Sturgis. It was required he have a good time.
There was nothing he could do about Jenna that night, so he intended to do the next best thing. Get rip-roaring drunk.