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that pussy. He’d work her until she screamed his name.
    He gripped his cock harder, pumping his slippery fist up and down. He imagined her in a number of positions. Bent over the desk, her ass cheeks spread, tits jiggling as he fucked into her. Going down on her knees to take his cock in her mouth.
    God.
    Widening his stance, he spurted cum all over his knuckles and across the wet tile with a low groan. He shuddered from the intensity of his release. Then he finished his shower in a languid daze. He lingered under the lukewarm spray, letting it wash away his tension. Maybe he’d been in prison for so long that he was permanently damaged.
    Jerking off to Mia had felt more satisfying than fucking Tiffany.

CHAPTER FOUR
    M IA WAS TWICE as nervous to see Cole on Thursday.
    Her determination to go through with her plan had grown stronger since she’d visited her mother. She’d tossed and turned the past two nights. She’d thought about her past, her present, her future. The days without Philip stretched before her, empty and endless. The eyes of her attacker plagued her. The last seconds of her husband’s life replayed in her mind, over and over again, and his hoarse warning echoed in her ears.
    No.
    She imagined that he’d put up a fight after she’d run down the hall. He’d died trying to protect her. He wouldn’t have wanted her to pine for him or drown in sorrow. But the only thing that felt remotely hopeful or even real to her was this. Taking control of the situation. Stealing closure from those bastards who’d robbed her.
    It was possible that Cole Shepherd would do her dirty work without any prompting. White Lightning and Dirty Eleven were sworn enemies. The president of the rival club might already be on Cole’s hit list.
    Mia still had to find out who the mystery man with the “E” tattoo was, however. She’d studied mug shots of the other White Lightning members without a flicker of recognition. Sometimes she wondered if she’d imagined the tattoo altogether.
    Damon had promised not to hang around during today’s session. He really wanted to bust Cole’s uncle, and Cole’s cooperation was key.
    She let herself into the office and spent several minutes pacing in front of the desk. Her outfit was stylish and sedate again today, but her skirt was shorter. Her blouse was sleeveless and feminine, ruffled down the front. Underneath the ensemble, she was wearing nude lace panties with a black garter belt and stockings. Philip had bought the lingerie, and Cole wouldn’t see it. The point was to feel daring.
    Instead, she felt nervous.
    Although she was ready for his knock, Mia jumped at the sound. She released a slow breath and squared her shoulders. “Come in.”
    He opened the door and stepped inside, pulling it closed behind him. The action wasn’t sinister or suggestive. They needed privacy, and he was saving her the trouble of crossing the room to shut the door behind him. Even so, she felt a sharp stab of panic. He was a large man, clad in black leather. She flashed back to the day of the robbery. In her mind’s eye, she was standing on the threshold of the study, looking in on the robbery. She was pinned on the floor in the guest room, struggling to breathe.
    Mia blinked to clear the disturbing images. She reached out to brace her hand on the desk and missed, stumbling sideways. Her assailant—no, Cole—strode forward and caught her before she fell. His strong grip on her upper arms was reassuring, rather than aggressive. There was no menace in his gaze. No ill intentions. But his torso felt like a brick wall, and his motorcycle vest loomed before her. As her palms flattened against it, she pictured another man clad in leather. The edges of her vision went dark and her knees buckled.
    Cole picked her up with ease and deposited her on her desk carefully. Her water bottle tumbled off the edge, hitting the carpet with a thump. The sound snapped her out of her stupor. She straightened, trying to