“Holy shit,” one of my girls whispers beside me, pulling me from my daze. My head sweeps over to them, and the small pink blush coating Manda’s cheeks tells me this is bad. So bad.

Jesse Carter is dangerous. His words are his weapons, and when up against him, I’m left unarmed.

I clear my throat and hold my stomach. The sudden urge to do things I’ve never done before starts drumming in my subconscious. What the hell is it with this man? Momma always said don’t let a man’s words affect you, but with Jesse, there’s no control. I need to stay strong, just like the other few times he has tried his lines on me.

“Mr. Carter, whatever game you think I’m playing, I’m not. I’m just me, no one special and I don’t play games. I promise you.” I stand, needing space. I ignore the loss of his heat when he steps back, and I ignore the stunned looks on my friends’ faces. Instead, I dip my head, keep my eyes on my feet and walk as fast as I can away from the table.

“Okay, Bell, you win. I don’t chase,” he shouts out after me, but I’m too shaken to respond. I push my way through the crowd, hoping whatever just happened, never happens again. I’ve never had a reaction like this to anyone before, why does it have to be him?

I know he thinks I’m playing a game, but I have no idea what he’s talking about. What I do know is Jesse Carter is in the big leagues and I’m nowhere near ready for a round.

Not even close.

Three Jesse

I watch as she retreats to the bathroom. Her head down, hiding her embarrassed face from everyone. I didn’t think I would get to her in just a few words, but judging by her reaction, I got to her good. I know she’s not like the women I’m normally attracted to, but her reserved personality and her good-girl innocence are what fucking gets to me. Like she has no idea how goddamn sexy she is or that every man in this club has their eyes on her ass, while picturing their dicks sliding between her large tits. I’m not gonna lie. I’ve pictured it. Even her long dark hair, which is pulled back from her face in some boring-ass style, does nothing to put me off, because on her, it’s fucking sexy. Sweet, innocent Bell is fucking sexy, and for reasons I can’t even explain, I need a fucking taste. But going by the blush she wears whenever I smirk at her, she would never be able to handle me and my one-time deal. I’d eat her alive.

“I should go check on her.” One of her friends stands, breaking my stare and the silence.

“Leave her a few minutes,” the cute redhead to my left says. “So you’re the Jesse who asked her to marry you?” She turns her attention back to me.

“She declined.” I offer, remembering the last time I saw Bell. It was the night I needed stitches after my birthday party. I hadn’t planned on getting glassed by some fucked-up ex-husband of one of the women the Rebels had helped get out of town, but having Bell as my nurse made it a whole lot better. Especially when my parents insisted they drop by. I remember her putting up with my shit, then when my father arrived, she even put him in his place and held her ground when he demanded a doctor instead of a nurse. Asshole.

“She’s shy,” the small blonde to my right adds, helping me put the pieces together.

“I can tell.” I look back over to the entryway of the bathroom, waiting for her to come back out. I know I said I wouldn’t chase, and it’s true. I’m not fucking whipped like Nix, my Prez, or any of my other brothers who have settled down in the last year, but fuck, having Bell in Liquid, out of her nurse get-up, and wearing some sexy tight jeans which show just how tight her ass is, has me wanting just one fucking taste. What the fuck is wrong with me? This is the last thing I need right now.

I’ve already picked up a fuck tonight. I remind myself and look over at the blonde I left at the bar to come and play with Nurse Bell. She waves, and I know I shouldn’t leave her hanging.

“Well, ladies, have a good night.” I force myself to retreat, and move away from her friends. I’ve made my play and my prediction was right. As much as I’d love to sink myself balls deep into Nurse Bell, innocent women like her are too much work.

“You think she’s playing hard to get. She really isn’t,” the last one of her friends speaks up, which surprises me since she hasn’t uttered one word since I walked over to their table. I stop and turn to take in what she is saying. “The fact she even talked to you shocks us, so don’t give up.” She smiles and the thought of having to work harder doesn’t excite me, but it plants a seed. Maybe I could do with a challenge? Something that keeps me occupied more than the fucks I seem to be finding lately. I don’t know what it is about her, but something pulls me to her, and each time I see her, it gets stronger.

“Okay, thanks.” I nod, taking their advice and moving away. Looking at the bathroom door one more time, I force myself to let go of the idea. She’s not what I need, and I’m nowhere near what she needs. We’re better off without each other. I lock eyes back with the blonde waiting patiently for me and give her a wink. Her face explodes into a smile, one that reminds my cock how much fun he was in for, and winks back. Now this is what I need. I know I’m going to enjoy this one tonight.

“Hey, Jesse, the VIP room has a problem with one of the credit cards someone gave us,” Tammy, Liquid’s manager, shouts out over the music before I make it back to the blonde.

“Yep.” I nod, taking the card and the bill up the stairs to sort it out.

Never intended for parties, the VIP room has evolved over the last year. I’m not complaining; this joint does well, really well. But it takes up a lot of my time. Not that I have anything better to do. Between Liquid and the Rebels, all that’s left is fucking bitches to get me through the loneliness.

Taking the stairs two at a time, I ignore the pain in my ankle, which comes about every time I climb these damn stairs, and prepare to deal with the asshole who handed us a dead card. We don’t get them often, but when we do, it’s normally some hotshot fucker who thinks his shit don’t stink and can cover it. That’s when my happy-go-lucky attitude turns into the pissed-off biker I can be.

I never thought this would be my lifestyle, joining the MC, and running a club like Liquid. Growing up, my career was pretty much planned out. Go to school and then become a Marine like my father. While it did happen that way to a degree, I fought to get there. I became a firefighter when I was nineteen, pissing my father off beyond all belief. But I didn’t care; I was doing something I wanted. And it felt fucking awesome. I finally had a close family. We might not have been family by blood, but we had each other’s backs, and I felt like I had a place where I belonged. Then 9/11 happened. A deep-seated need to do more ate at me, and after a fucked-up argument with my father one evening, I let his words spur me on. I joined the Marines. I went to war and I served my country. At first, it wasn’t what I really wanted, but like everything I’ve ever done, I gave it my all. I fought for my country and for the lives lost, but in the process, I lost a little of myself. It was my decision to serve, but it hasn’t stopped me from letting the anger eat at me. If I hadn’t let my father’s words push me, maybe I wouldn’t be here. Maybe I would still be hanging out with my brothers from the Clark County Fire Department. Don’t get me wrong, I fucking love the life I have. The lifestyle, the women, the club and my brothers, but it doesn’t stop the ‘what ifs.’ What if I never did a second tour? What if I didn’t fuck up and lose one of my best friends and ruin the life of another in the attack. It’s like I lost the certainty of who I was while I was over there, and now, as much as I like where I’m at, I don’t really know who I am. Or what I want.