Prologue

 “Harder, Lucky, harder.” Jenna’s hands gripped his ass, pulling him against her more tightly.

 Lucky hoped the kitchen table he was fucking her on held up to the strain of the hard thrusts he was driving into Jenna’s clenching pussy. As he stood, watching his cock delve into her, her hips arched to take him deeper while he held on to the edge of the table to keep it from scooting across the floor. Then her hands fell to the side, nearly knocking a dessert plate off the table.

 Why did women always try to cook and bake for him? Whenever he went anywhere, women were always attempting to show off their cooking skills. All but one—Willa.

 Her name flashing through his mind nearly sucked the life out of his dick before another image materialized—her curvy body underneath his on the table instead of Jenna.

 Lucky watched as Jenna ran a finger through the vanilla icing, lifting it to her peaked nipple.

 “Help yourself,” she teased.

 Lucky bent over her, licking at the frosting until it melted against her flesh.

 “Delicious,” he said, licking the last dollop away before straightening.

 He felt his cock jerk as he came in the condom he insisted he wore with Jenna or any woman when he fucked them.

 “Better than Willa’s frosting?”

 Lucky leaned over her again, licking her nipple. “Much better.”

 “The next time she brings a cake to a church dinner, I can tell her you said my frosting was better,” Jenna gloated.

 Lucky felt his dick go limp at her words while his temper soared. He circled his hand around her throat, gripping it tightly enough to get his message across without inflicting any actual pain. “You won’t open your fucking mouth to her if you expect to see me again. You get me?”

 Jenna’s eyes widened. “Yes, Lucky.”

 Lucky released her, moving away. He angrily took off the condom, throwing it into the trashcan before shoving his dick back into his jeans and zipping them closed.

 Jenna shakily sat up on the table, holding her throat. “Shit, Lucky, I was only kidding.”

 “Don’t act like I hurt you. I’ve held you tighter when you’re coming,” he snapped.

 Jenna climbed off the table and picked up her shorts and top. “I didn’t expect you to get so fucking pissed off at a joke. Why do you care what Willa thinks?” Her eyes narrowed on him.

 “I don’t give a fuck what anyone thinks about me, but I do care when someone deliberately tries to hurt someone else. The better question is why do you want to hurt Willa?”

 “It was only a fucking joke!”

 Lucky stared back at her, knowing the woman was lying.

 “Whatever problem you have with Willa, leave me out of it. I won’t be happy if you drag me into the middle of it.”

 “How can I put you in the middle unless there’s something between you and Willa?”

 “The only thing between me and Willa is that I used to be her pastor.” Lucky gave her a hard look. “Let’s get one thing straight, Jenna; there’s nothing between me and Willa. She would tell you herself she doesn’t even consider me a friend. There’s also nothing going on between you and me other than when I want an easy lay,” he said crudely.

 Jenna’s face whitened at his blunt words. “I thought you’ve been coming around a lot lately—”

 “I’ve been coming around because I like what you’ve been giving me. When I get tired of it, I’ll quit coming around. Don’t make more out of it than there is … You’ll be disappointed.”

 “I need to get cleaned up for work.” Jenna started to move past him, but Lucky caught her arm.

 “I don’t want to hurt you, Jenna, but I’m not going to tell you there’s something going on between us when there isn’t.”

 Jenna gave an abrupt nod. “Don’t worry, Lucky. I got the message,” she snapped, jerking away then turning to go toward her bedroom.

 Lucky sighed when he heard the bedroom door slam shut. Then he went to the front door.

 He had made no promises to Jenna. She had built more between them in her own mind than there was to the reality of them fucking.

 Lucky walked down the sidewalk of Jenna’s house to his motorcycle, seeing Willa standing in the side yard with the children she had been fostering since their parents’ deaths.

 Lucky refused to acknowledge the discomfort he felt from her seeing him. He had seen her earlier when she had gone inside her house as he’d parked his bike in Jenna’s driveway, and he had sensed her eyes on him. Giving her a casual wave, he had still gone inside Jenna’s house.

 The shy woman always turned a bright red when she saw him, and she avoided catching his gaze, as if she had convinced herself that, if she didn’t look at him, she would miraculously become invisible.

 “What the fuck!” Lucky came to a stop when he drew closer to his bike. Someone had spray-painted ‘Blasphemer’ across it in bold red, and anger scored his soul at the insult.

 Lucky had lived the last few years undercover as a pastor in Treepoint, Kentucky, and one of the things he had looked forward to while he had tried to bust an inter-state drug trafficking ring had been his motorcycle.

 When he looked up, he saw Willa staring at him furtively.

 “Did you see who did this?” Lucky heard the accusation in his own voice, but it was too late to regain his temper as Willa paled. He was having a shit time with women so far today.

 Willa walked toward him, the five children following behind her.

 “Is something wrong …?” Her words trailed off as her eyes caught sight of his bike.

 “We just came outside. Chrissy and Caroline saw a stray cat when they were playing outside earlier. They wanted to feed it…”

 Lucky’s eyes went to the tabby cat at the side of Willa’s house that was contentedly eating tuna from a can. Then he studied the children. “Are you sure you didn’t hear or see anything?”

 “Jenna’s house is closer to your bike. It would be easily seen from her living room window. If you didn’t see anything, why would we?” Willa said.

 Lucky’s face turned red in embarrassment and anger at her logic. “Because I’m not the one who’s constantly looking out the window.”

 Once again, Willa was the one turning bright red. “I’ll go get something to clean the paint off.”

 She hurried inside her house, leaving him alone with five kids staring at him with varying expressions—from the overtly hostile glares of the two older girls to the three younger ones scowling at him.

 “We didn’t see who touched your bike,” Leanne stated, staring him directly in the eyes.

 Lucky knew the children fairly well from when he had been undercover as pastor. Leanne and Sissy were sisters; their mother Georgia had been a member of his congregation who had recently been killed when she was incarcerated for setting a fire in The Last Rider’s clubhouse. Shade and his wife Lily could have easily died if not for the precautions that Viper, the club president, had taken.