Page 56 of Defy


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Without overthinking it, I open my chat history and start typing.

Kat: I had fun tonight. Maybe we can do it again sometime…

Ryder: Just say the word, darlin’.

Kat: Maybe I will.

Ryder: Get some sleep, Kitten. I’ll talk to you soon.

Another text comes straight through.

Ryder: Dream of me.

God, he’s such a contradiction. The big bad tatted biker who whispers sweet nothings in my ear and fucks like a savage.

Something tells me I’m in trouble where Ryder Montrou is concerned.

Unlike Styx, he’s willing to take what he wants without apology.

It’s such a turn on.

But what if he wants all of me.

Even my heart.

Even the piece that Styx owns.

14

RYDER

Iknock the top off a bottle of beer and lift it to my lips as I scan the clubhouse.

It’s a normal night. My brothers are hanging out, many of them with their old ladies, and there are a handful of our usual club whores doing the rounds, lapping up the attention wherever they can.

Laughter and happiness fill the air, but I struggle to get involved in any of it. My head is still back in those woods with Kat.

Her taste is still on my lips, her sweet tempting scent in my nose.

Fuck. I’m addicted. And I fear that it’s in a way I’ve never experienced before.

There have been a few girls over the years I’ve kept around for more than just one night of fun, but that was mostly because it was easy. I’ve never craved anyone the way I do Kat. I’ve never spaced out on life before thinking about just hanging out with a girl.

It’s fucking weird. And I don’t know what to think about it.

There have been many, many girls who’ve come before her. Why didn’t any of them cause this kind of reaction within me? Why does it have to be her? The girl who Styx has been in love with for longer than I’m sure he’d ever admit. Why has it got to be one of my brothers’ little sisters?

And why the fuck have I allowed this to get as far as it has while lying to her about our first time together?

Honestly, I thought she’d have figured it out by now. She was drunk that night, but not drunk enough not to remember.

Maybe you just weren’t that memorable, a little voice pipes up in the back of my head.

I’m still trying to convince myself that can’t possibly be the case. That Kat sure seemed to enjoy our time together enough recently to think I’m not shit in bed, when the main door crashes back against the wall dragging everyone’s attention.

“What the—” My words are cut off as my best friend—someone who’s not stepped foot inside the compound since we were kids—storms through the clubhouse with his angry eyes set on me.

My stomach drops as realization hits me. “Oh fuck.”

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