Payback should be a bitch. But spying on Stacey Martin through her bedroom window in the darkness was giving Troy DeLance a hard-on. And Troy wasn’t happy about it.
Troy groaned out loud as Stacey unbuttoned her silky dress and it slipped to the ground, leaving her wearing virgin-white bra and panties. She had a body that was more siren than virgin. When she pulled her long, sun-blonde hair from its ponytail, it draped over her slim shoulders, down to her cute little rounded ass. She pursed her lips as she glanced out the window.
What he wouldn’t give to have her doing things to him with that sweet, pouting mouth.
But that wasn’t going to happen. This was official business for the Slayers MC—the motorcycle club both he and his prospect, Animal, belonged to.
It didn’t matter that Troy’s attraction for Animal’s half-sister Stacey jolted into him like a slug from a gun. He’d met her for the first time two weeks ago…but she’d been dressed then. Semi-naked? Oh man. He didn’t want or need this untimely attraction. She was so not his type. Far from it. His club nickname was Beast, and that fit him to a T. She was definitely a beauty, but unlike the fairy tale, this little scenario was not going to end happily.
Not for her, anyway.
His gaze still riveted on her, he pulled at his tightening jeans and shifted on his Harley so he was more comfortable. He wasn’t such a creep that he’d jerk off while he spied on the girl. Instead, he fingered the roll of duct tape, planning his revenge on her brother.
A year ago, Animal had gone out of his way to join the Slayers as Troy’s prospect. Back then, Troy had seen schoolgirl pictures of Stacey in the auto parts shop Animal recently inherited from his dad. Who knew the guy’s sweet-looking kid sister would grow up to be such a striking young woman, pretty enough to model on a catwalk? No wonder Animal had never brought her to the club parties when she was in town. There wouldn’t have been a man there who wouldn’t have wanted to bang her.
Troy tried to remember how old his prospect had said she was. Twenty? No. Twenty-one? Anyway, it didn’t make any difference. He wasn’t going to date the girl. He was going to grab her and trade her. He fingered the gun at his hip. Animal’s betrayal of their friendship by snatching Troy’s own younger sister, Lizzie, and making her his sex slave deserved a slow, torturous beating…if not worse.
The MC didn’t hold with unnecessary violence. Not since Troy’s father had taken over from his grandfather and the Slayers started making money from the legit bike shops and nightclubs they now owned. Lawlessness brought cops, and cops were trouble.
But in this instance, Troy had no other option. Crimes against Slayers and their womenfolk had to be punished. Troy had brought Animal in, so it was up to him to fix the problem. Luckily, being military, he was the most experienced enforcer in the club.
First, he needed to draw the little jerk out from whatever shithole he was hiding in. And he knew just how to do it. He knew Animal and Stacey were close, so it was a no-brainer. Troy would get Lizzie back, send Animal his own sister in return, then beat the crap out of him.
So, for the next twenty-four hours, he was going to stick to Stacey like bitumen on gravel.
And then he’d grab her.
Snap! The bra strap went, and she turned toward the window so he copped a full shot of her firm, high tits before she flung the scrap of fabric onto the bed. Cherry nipples. Heat flooded his cock. She was singing something, her lips moving to the song, and…dancing. Holy shit. He couldn’t hear the words from where he stood in the shadows just outside her ground-floor bedroom window, but he definitely appreciated the way her body moved. She was a woman in every sense of the word. He didn’t need much imagination to picture her moving under him.
She had wide eyes the same color as Animal’s piercing blue ones, but that was the end of the resemblance. Damn, she was sexy with her petite nose and lush, soft mouth. Delicate in a ladylike way, unlike the usual club women or hangers-on. No tattoos marked her pale skin, not even a scar or a mole. She was like a long, fresh drink of milk. He bet she’d smell good, too.
A thrill of need made his cock rock-hard and his balls tight. Shit, he’d recently returned from a three-month mission with his U.S. Army Ranger Corps, special ops team, and hadn’t gotten laid in a while. He so did not need the torment of sweet, young flesh.
When she slid her panties down her thighs, his throat went dry, and the primal urge to fuck grew to the boiling point. She had the sweetest blonde pussy that he would love to plunder with his fingers and tongue.
Stacey Martin was strictly off-limits. Not one blonde hair would be harmed in his quest for revenge.
Besides which, Animal had told him his half-sister’s mom was a New York trust-fund socialite. A much different world than Troy came from. A world he had zero interest in having anything to do with, even if it just involved mindless sex. Because a woman like that would always want more than just mindless sex.
His cock throbbed, which was damned uncomfortable. Then Stacey dropped something and bent down to retrieve it, giving him a perfect view. He swore his balls went blue the precise moment the image of her rounded ass and lovely pussy exploded in his brain. She was so close he could easily break the window, climb in, and snatch her right now.
Fucking-A. What was he thinking?
He needed to get this job out of the way pronto, or he’d be dreaming about this little trust fund princess and her naked body for the foreseeable future.
He’d grab her tonight—which meant he needed to go back to the club and get the SUV, supplies, and extra fuel. Animal had to be a damn moron to kidnap Lizzie and leave his own sister unguarded. Especially when he’d been specifically warned off by the Slayer’s president—Troy’s dad, known in the club as Razor. A prospect should know better.
Troy narrowed his eyes. He would get his sister back. Then he’d make sure the little shit paid dearly.
And Princess Stacey was the key.