Heat floods my limbs. A mixture of lust and anger.

Any of my brothers could have walked in to see her like this. Guaran-fucking-teed, they wouldn’t have walked away without touching her.

Directing my anger on the only thing I can, I kick the bed. Hard. She stirs again but doesn’t wake. I don’t relent though. I lean over and push on the mattress until it jars her awake, or at least until her eyes flicker open.

“Luce?” she asks on a breathy whisper. “What are you doin’ in here?”

I think she’s still half-asleep because her eyes are half closed. “Sorry to disappoint, Doll, but I’m not whoever that is.”

Her eyes blink a few times and she hurries to pull up the sheet. “What time is it?”

I cross my arms and stare down at her. “Nine o’clock.”

She just looks up at me vacantly.

“You got people waitin’ to be fed and jobs to do. You’re not on a fuckin’ vacation, Doll. Get up.”

“Okay. Let me just change and I’ll be down in a minute.”

Her voice is breathy, and from the reaction stirring in my body, you’d think she’d just breathed a hot breath directly over the head of my cock.

Fuck. I need to get the hell out of here before I do something stupid.

I turn and take a few steps toward the door. When I look back, her eyes are closed like she’s going to fall back asleep.

“Doll, I’m not gonna tell you again. Get the fuck up.”

One of her eyes opens. “I’m awake, jeez. I was only—”

“What?”

“Nothing.” She watches me for a second. Then sighs, “Never mind.”

Then she swings back the sheet to reveal her nice thin legs and the little, white, cotton shorts.

“Jesus. What the fuck are those?”

She looks down at herself and shrugs. “Shorts. I had Dozer’s sweatpants on but it was too hot so I changed into these.”

Picturing her wearing Dozer’s clothing makes me want to stab something.

She stands and turns around, bends over the bed, and starts making it. My cock throbs behind my zipper. Mother of God. I curse some more under my breath and rub a hand down my face. I use my other hand to shift my erection into a more comfortable position. I find out quickly it’s not possible. The fucker is caged and wants out.

My control is slipping. I can feel it shredding to pieces. I’m seconds away from grabbing her hips and hauling her back into me so I can grind my growing erection into her perfect ass.

She stands after making the bed and finger combs her hair. It didn’t do her any good. It’s still wild and makes her look like she’s recently been well ridden. Her pouty lips beg to be kissed and her short as fuck shorts and tight tank are so thin I’m thinking I could rip them in two without any effort.

The things I could do with her fucking body.

Those legs. That ass. Fuck I want my face right . . .

“Fuck.”

I give myself a mental punch to the face.

“What?” she says as she looks up at me as if I’ve lost my mind. Maybe I have.

“Just get your ass downstairs.”

“Okay. Jeez. Can I at least use the restroom first?”

After staring her down for a second and meeting her glare for glare, I give a curt nod.

Then, as she goes to walk past me, I remember the unlocked door. Grabbing her upper arm, I ask, “Did you leave the door unlocked last night?”

Her eyes flit from my grip on her arm to my face. The blue in her eyes seems more dominant today. She tries to pull her arm from me but causes me to hold her tighter. “I did. But it’s not what—”

I growl. Yep . . . like a cave man. My fingers cinch even tighter around her arm.

Her eyebrows furrow as she wilts under my grip. “You’re hurting me.”

“Did I not make myself clear? They don’t touch you and you don’t touch them. That goes for Dozer too. Otherwise, what the fuck are you here for?”

She pushes her hair way from her face now and glowers. “You’ve got me all figured out, don’t you? There couldn’t possibly be another reason, could there? Like maybe . . . You know what?” That fake and innocent shell she was wearing when she came here is slipping. Falling away. The real Pumpkin, Doll, whoever she is . . . is coming out to play. And I’ll be damned if it doesn’t both piss me off and excite the hell out of me.

“What?”

“Things aren’t always so black and white.”

“They are in my world.”

My subconscious adds, until you came along.

“Then your world sucks,” she snaps.

Yeah, Doll. It does. But I don’t say that. Instead, I lean into her and point at her face. “This is the last fuckin’ time I’m gonna tell you to watch that fuckin’ mouth. Get changed and get the fuck downstairs.”

Sitting between Goose and Dozer, I eat breakfast. I’m still stewing over what went down in Dozer’s room.

“These pancakes? Or Frisbees?” Taz asks Bodie from two seats away.

“Don’t be an asshole,” Dozer hisses. To Pumpkin, he says, “They’re fine, babe.”

Taz picks up a pancake. “They smell like . . . turpentine.” He sniffs it and then spins it on the end of his fork for a second, before he flings it at Bodie.

Bodie jumps up from his chair. “The fuck?”

Whiz Kid, our newest prospect, busts a gut.

With a bewildered and dejected look, Pumpkin says, “I used the same mix . . .” Her eyes center on Taz.

“Don’t worry about it, babe.” Dozer reaches forward and pats her hand.

He’s lying. The pancakes taste like shit. Like someone thought it was a good idea to put vinegar in them. I’m guessing Taz did something, by the look on her face.

“Knock it the hell off. You guys are cleanin’ that shit up,” Dozer scolds Taz, Bodie, and Whiz, who just joined in.

“They’re not cleaning it up. Not their job,” I state.

“She’s not cleaning up after them when they’re acting like assholes.”

Taz shakes his hair and runs his hand over it dislodging food. He chuckles. “We’re fuckin’ bikers. We’re always assholes.”

I add, “If she can’t handle it, then there’s the door.”

“This is bullshit,” Dozer snarls.

Goose walks into the room alone. I can tell right away by the sour look on his face, he’s pissed. Most likely him and Lil’ had another row either last night or this morning. Those two are either really on or really off.

“Check out what Taz had me make, man.”

Every head turns to Whiz. He pulls out what looks to be a calendar.

“It’s a countdown,” Taz says.

Whiz explains, “You know like at Christmas, only this is a Pumpkin countdown.”

One by one, he flips through the pages. Each page has a picture of a girl. In a few she’s naked, in one she’s wearing lingerie, in another a bikini, and in the last photo she’s wearing a tight, ripped, black dress and straddling a Harley. Whiz loves that techy shit and it looks like he’s photo-shopped each image to have Doll’s face.

Griz mumbles something about not being able to have any pumpkin pie. And that he loves pie.

“You got to be fuckin’ kidding me.” Dozer stands and tries to grab the calendar but Taz keeps it out of his grasp.

The guys utter obscene comments about each photo.

Doll stands there and watches. There’s no emotion whatsoever on her face. Whiz Kid’s calendar and the comments ringing out are a manifestation of what she’s signed up for.

I can’t help but wonder how she’s taking it.

“Can I see it?” she asks tentatively.

The guys quiet down and Taz studies her.

“I’m not going to rip it up. I swear,” she says.

Taz cautiously hands it over. There’s a smirk on his face as she flips through the pages.

All the guys watch her.

Finally, she points at the one where she’s wearing a lacy, light blue bra and panties. “This is nice. Blue’s my best color and I like the garters. The yellow bikini’s not bad either though.”

My cock jumps like it’s in boot camp and got called to attention.