Chapter one
Pretty Boy
It was a slow, lazy Sunday afternoon at the Reckless Order clubhouse. I stifled a yawn, sleepily nursing my beer in the corner.
And the view wasincredible.
“Stop staring at my ass,” Lila growled.
She bent over the pool table, lining up her shot with laser-like precision. Her black jeans were practically glued like a second skin to the peachy swell of her ass and the plump curve of her hips. Her shirt gaped open, revealing a teasing glimpse of her cleavage, straining at the lace of her dark purple bra.
“I wasn’t staring,” I protested.
She scoffed and cast a skeptical glance at me over her shoulder. God, those fiery eyes rimmed in smokey black kohl would be the death of me.
“I was admiring,” I added with a sly grin. “There’s a difference.”
She huffed and returned her focus to the game.
“I should gouge your eyes out with this pool cue.”
“Come on, it’s a compliment,” I said. “Don’t pretend that you don’t like the attention.”
“Oh, I love attention,” Lila said. “Just not from you.”
I placed a hand over my heart in mock pain.
“That hurt my feelings, Lila.”
She hummed, examining her purple nail polish.
“You’ll get over it.”
Lila knew she was drop-dead gorgeous. Her long, ink-black hair spilled down to her waist, with vibrant purple highlights. She took after her mother’s side of the family from Brazil, with smooth golden-brown skin, dark eyes, and lush curves, compared to her father's lily-white ass from Kentucky.
Growing up in a motorcycle club, she was surrounded by bikers at all times, and they were eager to get their hands on a beauty like her. At twenty-seven years old, she certainly had the libido to keep up with them. So, she had no end of choices when it came to sex.
Except for me.
Lila would never, ever let me lay a finger on her.
Hades shook his head as he circled the pool table, calculating the best angle for his shot.
“You two should just fuck out your frustrations already. My ex-wife loved to do that. I swear, she would pick fights just for the make-up sex that came afterward.”
“I’d be willing to give it a try,” I said.
Lila didn’t even deign to glance in my direction this time, pretending I hadn’t spoken.
“Don’t encourage him, Hades.”
I chuckled, draining the last of my beer. Ever since Lila and I were teenagers, we had this verbal sparring match going back and forth between us, brutal, merciless. She could make grown men weep with her sharp tongue.
Then we hit our twenties, and things took a different turn.
Every insult became riddled with an unbearable level of sexual tension. Lila enjoyed teasing me with what I couldn’t have. Flaunting her body on purpose just to bait me, then pulling away with a wicked little laugh.
The game between Lila and Hades progressed until it came down to the wire. And Lila won.
