Dixie had the beauty, body, and confidence of Tess Carmina and the attitude of a badass biker who lived by her own rules. She dressed however the hell she pleased in Daisy Dukes, miniskirts, or like tonight, in a cropped Whiskey Bro’s tank top, skintight jeans, and sky-high black leather boots. Nobody ever gave Dixie crap. Tracey wanted that respect from Diesel. Everyone else already gave it to her.

“Yes, I am, and you look nothing like a boy. You have great boobs, a cute ass, and a tiny waist half our friends would kill for.”

“Thank you, but what does that have to do with my question?”

“I’ve been telling you for months that Diesel wants to fuck you. If that man looked at any other woman the way he looks at you, they’d be all over him.” She arched a finely manicured brow. “If you ask me, you ought to drag his ass out back and ride him like a Harley. It’s the only way to break the sexual tension between you two, and you know a man who looks like that fucks as hard and dark as he acts.”

“I am sick of everyone telling me he wants me. It’s like y’all have lost your minds. That man does not tiptoe around what he wants. He leaves the bar with a different woman two or three times a week. Fast women who drink too much and wear too few clothes. Women who are nothing like me, which is just fine, because chiseled features or not, he has absolutely no people skills, and I have zero interest in becoming some possessive, grunting biker’s property.” She was breathing too hard, anger and adrenaline coursing through her veins. “You know what? Forget it. I’m sick of this, and I’m going to put an end to it right now.” She stormed toward the bar, pushing through the crowd, Diesel’s eyes drilling into her as she pointed at him. “You. Kitchen. Now.”

She didn’t wait for a response, making a beeline through the double doors, into the empty kitchen, where she paced, her nerves rattling with the reality of what she was about to do. She shook out her hands, gulping in air as the beast walked through the doors, eyes narrowed.

It was now or never, and she couldn’t afford never.