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more big change from how it used to be,” he offered.
    “Yeah,” I smiled sadly. “But I guess I’ll just have to get used to it.  Having a stepmom.”
    “And a stepbrother,” he muttered with a short, dry laugh.
    I looked and his gaze locked on mine.  His eyes, at first sympathetic, seemed to change in an instant. His pupils grew large, and his brows knit into a frown. Suddenly, the heat that had been there between us back in the desert flashed again like a lightning bolt, and my breath hitched in my throat.  A flame seemed to erupt inside me, burning from my chest down to lick between my legs. My lips parted involuntarily; my breathing shallowed and sped up. Ryker’s eyes widened, and then I saw them grow dark with desire.  He raked them up and down my body, and suddenly I was acutely aware that we were completely alone in my bedroom.  Alone in the house.  Somehow I knew, looking at the naked lust in his eyes and the large bulge in his jeans, that one move would be all it would take.  One small move, from either of us, and it would be all over.  And God, how I wanted to make that move.
    After a long, tense moment, Ryker tore his eyes from mine.  “I’m in the apartment downstairs,” he said gruffly, turning away.  “Let me know if you need anything.”  He left the room, and I listened to the heavy steps of his boots retreating down the hallway. 
    Forcing myself to take a deep breath, I realized I was trembling.  Shakily, I sat down on the bed and contemplated what had suddenly become my own private version of hell. So, Ryker lived downstairs.  Shit . Many years ago, my father had had the lower level of the house renovated and a separate entrance built, so that it could serve as an apartment.  He had been intending to take in renters, he said, but had eventually decided against it.  Mostly, the apartment had served as a temporary living arrangement for club members who needed to lie low for a while.  And now, apparently, Ryker called the place home.  Which meant there would be no way to avoid my stepbrother.  At home or at the club.

 
 
 

Chapter Six
Ryker
     
    I slammed the door and stalked through my apartment to the bathroom. Turning on the water as hot as I could stand it, I stripped off my clothes, and for the second time that day, closed my eyes and thought about what it would be like to sink my aching cock deep inside Hadley’s softness.  Apparently, Sherilyn’s expert ministrations had not been nearly enough.  Then again, I hadn’t anticipated having to suffer through being alone with Hadley in her childhood bedroom, with nothing between us but air and tension so thick you could cut it with a goddamn knife.
    I stepped under the pounding stream and took hold of my throbbing dick, stroking myself as slowly as I could stand it.  Before long it was too much for me to take and I sped up, grunting loudly as I released my load against the wall in hot, thick spurts.  I leaned back against the wall, panting, and let the shower stream rinse me off.  Jesus Christ, this woman was going to be the end of me.  But as much as I wanted her, as much as she wanted me – and I could tell she wanted me just as bad – there was not one goddamn thing I could do about it. 
    As my breath slowly returned to normal, I had to burst out laughing at how fate seemed to have a perpetually cruel sense of humor where I was concerned. No sooner had I decided to prospect with The Throttle, than Randi and Lon strike up a relationship.  Not that that was bad in and of itself, but I knew that there would always be club members who assumed that my rise to the position of VP happened only because my ma was the president’s old lady. 
    Then, just as I had started working on getting Lon to start seriously considering moving the club away from meth distribution and toward more legitimate business, fuckin’ Jimmy Stocker starts making it clear he’s gunning for the VP position himself.  Oh, not openly or