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I stepped back from the window without really thinking about it, my pulse still all over the place, and his eyes tracked the movement immediately.

“Aren’t you going to finish what you started?”

“Aren’t you joining me?” I shot back, the wine making me bolder than wisdom ever would.

His expression changed. It became darker. Sharpened.

He looked me over once more, slower this time, taking in the bare legs, the flushed skin, the way I was still slightly breathless from being caught so off guard, and then shook his head softly.

“Not whilst you’re drunk,” he said, surprising hell out of me.

“You haven’t had a drink?”

“I have,” he admitted. “But I don’t mind being taken advantage of. You, on the other hand… well, I’d rather wait until you’re sober.”

I blinked, dumfounded. He must have seen it, because the corner of his mouth lifted.

“You’re really not going to join me?”

He shook his head.

“No?” I asked softly.

“No,” he repeated, though there was a roughness in his voice now that made it very clear this was not coming from lack of wanting. “But wild horses couldn’t keep me away from watching.”

Heat flared low in my stomach.

I smiled before I could stop myself.

“You know,” I said, folding my arms loosely beneath my chest and leaning against the edge of the desk, “you’re on Riders territory.”

Vienna’s gaze flicked to my mouth and back again.

“Mm.”

“You’re at their clubhouse. The home of their president.” I tilted my head. “And you’re standing outside his old lady’s bedroom window watching her touch herself.”

His jaw flexed.

“They’ll kill you if they find out.”

That made him smile in a way that sent a sharp little thrill through me despite myself.

“Then let's get this show on the road. Don’t let me die with my cock out.”

My breath caught as I watched his hand move to his belt, and then lower, the look on his face nearly melting me from the inside out.

“You best make the show a good one.”

The whole room seemed to shift around us. To become nothing but the line between his body and mine.

“Vienna…” I whispered, though I wasn’t sure whether it was protest or invitation.

“Quickly,” he said quietly. Quietly enough to make every nerve ending in my body sit up and listen.

I swallowed.

He looked devastatingly composed for a man standing half-hidden on enemy territory in the middle of the night with sin written all over his face.