“His dick will be what’s up, darlin’,” Spence said with a laugh.

Jessie laughed, too.

Diaz, however, didn’t.

“Well?” she asked.

He couldn’t tell her not to do it. There was no valid reason, other than he was already jealous as hell. Which had nothing to do with the mission, and everything to do with how he felt about Jessie.

If he told Jessie the real reason he didn’t want her to do it, it would blow everything. He’d just told her he didn’t care about her. Acting like a jealous lover wouldn’t convince her of that, would it? And it wasn’t like he could be the one sliding his hand in Rex’s pocket. It had to be Jessie.

Fuck.

“Yeah, go ahead. If you get into trouble, give me some kind of signal.”

“I won’t have any trouble. It’ll be like taking candy from a baby.”

That’s what he was afraid of.

BY THE TIME THE BAND HAD SET UP IN THE HALL, THERE WAS a thick crowd of people who had already made good use of the bar. Alcohol was flowing, it was noisy, and Diaz and Jessie had a tough time finding a table. Fortunately, Spence insisted on coming with them, so people cleared a spot for him to sit—a good table in front of the dance floor, with extra chairs so he could prop up his leg. You had to love bikers—they always took care of their own.

Diaz and Jessie pulled up chairs at the same table. Stephanie wriggled her way through the crowd, disappointed to find Diaz on one side of Spence and Jessie on the other. Her heavily painted lips formed a pout.

Tough shit. If they were lucky, maybe she’d get pissed and go away.

The band started up, kicking into a rousing rock and roll oldies set. Nearly everyone got out on the dance floor. Stephanie looked over at Spence and cast a hopeful look.

“Not on your life, honey,” he said. “I’m sitting the night out. This is my dance partner tonight.” He lifted his bottle of beer and grinned.

Stephanie threw herself back in the chair and let out a long, loud sigh.

Jessie snickered, then whispered something in Spence’s ear, causing him to throw his head back and bellow out a laugh.

She was deliberately trying to irritate Stephanie. From the livid expression on Stephanie’s face, it was working.

By the time the band had played three or four songs, they had spotted Rex, leaning against the bar talking with a couple of guys. Jessie kept her focus on him, making occasional eye contact.

Rex had been noticing, too. Hell, who wouldn’t? Jessie wore tight jeans and a bright red midriff-baring top that hugged her breasts.

“I need a refill,” she said. “Be right back.”

She stood, moving with deliberate catlike grace over to the bar. Diaz’s pants tightened, his dick clamoring to life as he remembered what it felt like to run his hands over such a beautiful woman.

She pushed her way in between Rex and his friends, turning her attention on the bald-headed, muscled Rex. He smiled down at her, and they engaged in conversation.

Maybe she’d lift the wallet and be done with it. Fast and easy.

But no, apparently it wasn’t going to work that way, because she set her beer on the bar, took the hand that Rex held out, and the two of them headed for the dance floor.

Diaz leaned forward, trying to make them out, but they’d been swallowed by the thick crowd.

Shit.

He stood, moving to the front of the floor, trying to act as nonchalant as possible. He was, after all, just stretching his legs, taking a little walk.

“Wanna dance, honey?”

He looked down to find Stephanie there.

“No, thanks.”

“Are you sure?” She leaned up against him. Or, he should say, she squished her br**sts against his arm, making sure to rub her hard ni**les against his biceps.

“Shouldn’t you be sitting with Spence?”

“No. I want to dance. Spence is out of commission. And you look like you’re eager to get out there.”

“Your devotion to Spence is admirable,” he said, not even attempting to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

Stephanie didn’t seem to take offense, continuing to undulate against him. “Similar to Jessie’s devotion to you, I presume? She looks pretty hot and heavy with Rex out there on the dance floor right now.”

He finally spotted them. Rex had hold of Jessie’s hips, the two of them swaying in time to a mellow pop song. It sure as hell looked like they were crotch to crotch. Jessie held on to Rex’s shoulders, looking like she was going to wrap her legs around him any second. Despite the jacking of his pulse, he shrugged and said, “Jessie’s a free spirit. She can do whatever she wants.”

“As am I. Spence and I don’t have a commitment. I can do whatever, or whoever, I want.” In a bold move, she cupped his crotch, rubbing her hand over his dick.

It was at that moment that Jessie made eye contact, noticed where Stephanie’s hand was, and frowned. She swiveled and rubbed her ass against Rex’s crotch. Was that a dig at Diaz, or so she could keep an eye on Stephanie? Diaz wasn’t sure, but he was damned distracted.

And goddammit, he was getting very turned on. Not by Stephanie—she didn’t do a thing for him. Jessie, on the other hand . . . anything and everything she did made his dick hard, even if she was doing it with or to another guy.

He grabbed Stephanie’s hand and jerked her along with him. “Let’s dance.”

“Finally,” she said.

He dragged Stephanie onto the dance floor, pushing his way past the throng of dancers until they were only a few couples from Jessie and Rex. Jess didn’t even try to ignore him, though she did give her attention to Rex. She turned, wrapping her body around Rex as they moved in rhythm to the music.

Diaz pulled Stephanie into his arms, pretty much ignoring whatever it was she did. She clung to him, rubbing her br**sts over his chest, then down his stomach as she slithered over his body.

He didn’t care. He watched Jess, felt Jess, every movement she made. It was her hands on his body—touching him, burning him, making his dick harden with every seductive sway of her hips. Jess turned away from Rex and he grabbed hold of her hips, guiding her back and forth across his cock, the same way Diaz wanted to do.

His breathing quickened, his heart jackhammering against his chest as he concentrated on Jess, on the music, the primal beat she swayed to. He was mesmerized as she twined her arms seductively upward like a rising flame. It made her shirt rise, baring more of her belly.

Rex palmed her stomach, his fingers inching under her shirt.

She smiled at Diaz, tormenting him with what he couldn’t have, twined her arms around Rex’s huge, muscled one, held him firmly in place as she rocked against him.

This was the worst torture he could endure, forced to watch another man with his hands on Jessie, knowing he had no right to object as she touched Rex intimately—his shoulders, his arms, his stomach, his hips, his ass, sliding over him like a snake slithering around his body. Rex held still, his eyes closed, his c**k hard and straining against his pants, evidence of how Jessie turned him on.

Rex wanted to f**k Jessie. Would she say no, or, now that Diaz had pushed her away, would she take him on?

Stephanie moved against him, seemingly lost in her own dance of seduction. He was only dimly aware of his hands roaming over Stephanie’s body, the two of them moving in tempo to the slow beat of the song, but his full focus was on Jessie. There was only Jessie on his mind—his gaze was locked on hers. No other woman existed for him.

The heat inside him grew, a bonfire raging out of control as the music built in intensity, pounding against his body. Stephanie cupped him, purring against him as she stroked his c**k with the palm of her hand. Jessie continued to dance around Rex, stroking his ass, dipping down to worship at his thighs, then slowly make her way up to wrap her arms around his waist, locking the two of them together to sway to the music. Her br**sts were pressed against his back until Rex turned around, grabbed her by the buttocks to lift her. She wrapped her legs around him and laughed, tilting her head back as Rex danced her around in circles.

God, he wanted that, wanted her carefree laughter, wanted to dance with her in his arms.

The music died down, and Rex put Jessie down. He bent toward her ear, whispered to her. She smiled, held his hands, looked into his eyes, said something to him, and winked. Rex laughed, and Jessie walked away, out of the hall and out the door.

Alone.

“Damn, that was hot.”

Diaz knew Stephanie’s comment hadn’t been about Jessie. He looked down at the redhead, smiled at her. “Too hot for me. Thanks for the dance.”

He turned and walked away, leaving Stephanie standing on the dance floor.

He caught up with Jessie halfway down the road leading to their cabin. They didn’t speak until they stepped inside the door. She closed it, locked it, withdrew a wallet from the back of her jeans, and handed it to him.

Rex’s, no doubt. She must have slipped it from him during their dance.

Diaz slipped the ID out and looked it over. “No Landon Mitchell. It says Rex James.”

“So the registration on his bike is phony.”

“Yeah.”

“I need to get this wallet to him before he notices it’s missing. I’ll be right back.”

She left and was gone about ten minutes, slipping in through the back door.

“Get it done?” he asked.

“Yeah. I left it on the floor near the bar. He’ll think he dropped it there when he was paying for beers.”

She was a good thief.

Hell, what man wouldn’t have been distracted with a woman like Jessie sliding her hands and body all over him?

Even the walk in the cool night air hadn’t eliminated the heated flush from her skin. Her cheeks were still pink, perspiration still dotted her chest.

“Enjoy the dance?” he asked.

“Yes. You?”

“No.”

She arched a brow. “Too bad. Looked like Stephanie was having fun.”

“I wasn’t paying attention to Stephanie.”

“Your c**k thought otherwise.”

“My c**k was watching you.”

She paused, her br**sts rising with each deep breath, misery written all over her face. “This sucks, Diaz.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“I’m pent up, anxious, hot, and turned on. I need you.”

Her honesty had always been the part of her that he admired the most, the part that made her so unlike any other woman he’d ever known. “Jess.”

She took a step toward him, flipping open the button of her jeans. “This is about scratching an itch we both need to scratch. I’m clear on you not wanting to have a relationship with me. You want it that way, I’m fine with it. Let’s make this about sex. Just sex. You do want to have sex with me, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

She lifted her top over her head, flung it onto the nearby chair. Her ni**les were hard, whether from the cold or her state of arousal, he didn’t know—didn’t care. All he knew was that she took his breath away, coming toward him half undressed, her skin flushed with desire and need, the same need that made his c**k rise up and press insistently against his jeans. The same desire that made his balls twist in a knot.

Why the hell should he hesitate? Jessie knew the score now, and she was offering sex without strings. He should jump on the chance to relieve them both.

“Are you sure this is what you want?”

She stopped with only inches separating them, her gaze showing no hesitation. “Quit asking me. I know what I want—you and me in that bed together. I need to come, Diaz. You got me all hot and bothered out there on the dance floor.”

She reached for his belt buckle, opened it, then went for his zipper. When her fingers brushed his erection, he sucked in a breath. He was ready to go off, had been ever since her seductive dance at the lodge hall. She drew the zipper down, slid her hand inside. He hissed at the feel of her cool fingers encircling his cock, squeezing him.

“Made you hot, did I?” she asked, leaning into him, the tips of her br**sts brushing his shirt.

“You know you did.”

“Good. Because it made me wet to dance for you, to tease Rex like that.”

“His dick was hard.”

“I know. He rubbed it against me.”

“He wanted to f**k you.”

She stroked him, pushed at his jeans until they pooled to his ankles. “Yes. He told me he did.”

“So why didn’t you?”

She shrugged, captured his c**k with both hands, rolled it between them until he was heavy, aching and needy. “I decide who I fuck. I already know what you can give me.”

He started to undress her, wanted her na**d, but she grabbed his wrists. “Oh, no. Not yet.”

Instead, she sank to the floor, using her fingernails to scrape at his thighs as she did. Her mouth at the level of his cock, she took him between her lips, licking the wide crest, flicking her tongue over the liquid that pooled there before swallowing his cockhead and engulfing his shaft.

“Ahh, God, Jessie,” he said, resting his hand on the top of her head as she sucked him with greedy abandon. Her mouth was wet, hot, her tongue swirling over his shaft, her hands moving over his balls, his cock, squeezing and stroking every time she pulled her mouth away. Seeing his c**k disappear between her sweet lips was a mix of heaven and hell, delight and torture. His balls tightened, filled with the come he wanted to spill down her throat. But he so wanted to come in her hot, tight pu**y instead.

“Come on, baby, quit teasing me,” he managed through dragging breaths. “Let me f**k you.”

She pulled his shaft from between her lips, stood, and backed away from him, drawing the zipper down on her jeans at the same time as she toed her boots off. He kicked off his jeans and boots, drawing his shirt over his head and following Jess to the bed. She drew the quilt back and climbed onto the mattress, lying back with her legs dangling over the side.