| 1 | Devil on the Hunt |

Devlin looked at his face in the bathroom mirror.

Handsome as a goddamn devil. He smirked at his reflection.

“Where the hell are you going?”

Devlin caught Stitch’s reflection in the mirror. The man was leaning on the door frame to Devlin’s bathroom.

“What the fuck are you doing in my room?”

“Trying to figure out where the hell you’re going when the party’s going to be here.”

Devlin waved him off grabbing his cut that was hanging on the side of the tub. “I’m getting a chick. Some Valentine’s day thing. Always gets a good turn out so I’ve heard. Perfect hunting grounds.”

Stitch laughed. “There will be plenty of those here.”

Devlin turned his nose up in disgust. “They’ve been ran through too many times.”

“When did you become a shrewd?”

Devlin ignored the man and headed out the bedroom. “Probably won’t be back tonight.”

“You sure you’re not meeting someone special?”

“One?” He laughed. “Have fun.”

“What should I tell your father?”

Devlin shrugged. “I’m too got damn old to give two fucks.”

His friend laughed. “Do you know who your dad is?”

“Same bastard I’ve had my whole life I’m guessing. I’m going to be late.” He slapped the other man on the shoulder and strolled out of their clubhouse. Straddling his bike he looked back at the contemporary metal and glass structure that was the club house for the past two decades. He put on his helmet and started his bike. The machine coming alive under him gave him a peace that he only found when he was on the open road, on his bike.

He took off heading to the singles thing. Parties at the club house were wild nearing reckless and he’d had fun, but he wasn’t in the mood to deal with the debauchery. He was more interested in being the the worst thing walking. Well-bred women usually attended things like this and some, if not most, of them were interested in a little bit a trouble.

Valentine’s day was one of his favorite holidays second only to Thanksgiving where he could gorge on food the entire day without a sideways glance. Why did he enjoy Valentine’s day? Well, it was rather simple. Chicks, lots of horney chicks that wanted someone to fuck them into forgetting the misery that was the other 364 days of the year.

Devlin pulled his bike on the sidewalk and cut the engine taking off his helmet. He looked up at the sign to the art gallery that the event was being held at some French word he didn’t understand. He placed his helmet in the compartment on the back of his bike and ran his fingers through his hair. When he stepped into the establishment a plump woman dressed in a flower moomoo rolled up on him with irate eyes and furrowed brows.

“You can't park your bike on the sidewalk!” She barked.

“What are you the fucking parking police? Give me a fucking ticket then.” She stopped short when he turned on her. But held her angry expression.

“I'll do you one better.” The woman retorted standing as straight as she could. “I'll have you towed!”

He had to give her credit, she had a pair to not be intimidated by his six foot three inches, tattooed arms and the permanent scowl he wore for good measure. That was something he picked up from his father. Even still he wouldn’t let this woman get the better of him. He stood over her forcing her neck to crane to look him in the eyes. “You can try.”

Someone cleared their throat behind him breaking his glare-off with the angry woman. He met disapproving, big caramel brown eyes set in a smooth honey-colored face. The woman was well made with a slim waist, generous hips, and breasts being hugged by a rather festive ensemble. A white bodysuit with a plaid skirt, obnoxious red, pink and white knee high socks and fuschia pumps. Her wavy light brown hair was pulled into a messy bun with red ribbons that had pink hearts attached to them.

Under the strange Valentine’s Day get up Devlin was taken by the woman’s beauty. She stopped a few paces from them glaring up at him and he caught a whiff of her perfume. He swallowed the excess saliva that started to form in his mouth. She was fucking sexy and he’d have her.

“Maggie. Good to see you again.” She said, presenting a fake smile that probably looked genuine to the other woman.

The chubby woman scoffed crossing her arms over her ample chest. “You're the worst liar I know.”

“Oh, come on Maggie, I invite you every year.” The pretty woman placed a hand on the small of Maggie’s back and led the woman further inside. Before they could get too far the pretty woman glared back at him with a promise that she wasn’t done with him yet. He was looking forward to whatever the woman had to offer.

“Hello, sir.” A round woman sitting behind a desk greeted him without much enthusiasm. “Are you on the list?”

“Yes.”

“Last name?”

“Sinn.”

She said more things that he wasn’t paying attention to his eyes were on the pretty, overdressed woman who had to be in charge. “Who’s that?” He asked, cutting into the woman’s speech.

She looked over her shoulder to where he was looking. “Oh, that’s Lacey, the hostess. She’s the ambitious type throws one of these every year. Really starting to take off.” The woman babbled while making him a name tag.”

“Thank you for coming, Mr. Sinn.”

He immediately tossed all the crap that the woman handed him without looking at any of it. There’s no fucking way he was wearing a name tag. He found a standing bistro table with a perfect view of the hostess. He watched her work her magic like some fucking ethereal fairy on the horribly dressed woman in the moomoo.

She was fucking gorgeous wasn’t she? She was smiling now introducing the woman to some corney looking guy in rimless glasses with dull brown hair and a slim build. No doubt a fucking paper pushing weasel. Devlin grumbled bringing his attention to the table which was decorated with doilies and had paper and pencils probably for some kind of game or some shit.

“Hi.”

Devlin looked up to find two bright blue eyes gazing at him. He lifted his head to inspect the pretty brunette better. He hadn’t even been standing their for three minutes and there was already a moth ready to be scorched by the flame. “Hi.” He responded. Keep it fucking simple right?

“Macey.”

“Devlin.”

There was an awkward silence as she looked down at the table.

“You come to these things often?” He asked.

“Every year. This one’s my favorite. Lacey really does a good job…” She broke off when someone called her name. It was a pretty dark-skinned woman with red painted lips. “Oh shit that’s my friend.” She grabbed a piece of paper dumping the heart shaped confetti off of it before jotting her number down and sliding it toward him. “You should call me.”

He caught honey brown eyes across the room glaring into him over the woman’s shoulder as the pretty hostess made her way over to him.

He looked at the information then stuffed it in his pocket. He nodded in the brunette’s direction and she dashed off to meet her friend.

Lacey took an even stance in front of him and crossed her arms angling her face up to look him in the eyes. His gaze fell to her chest then his dark eyes met hers again mischief swimming in them.

“You don't look like the sort that would come to these things.” She stated.

“And what sort do I look like?” He smirked. He knew exactly what he looked like and that’s what he wanted everyone to know. There was no sense in acting like he was anything else.

“The sort that hangs out in a biker bar.” She pushed her nose in the air an arrogant haughty move that made his cock jump.

He smiled imagining all the things he wanted to do to her to wipe that smug ass look off her face. “Not too far off.”

“What are you doing here Mr…?” She looked over his person probably for the damn name tag.

“Sinn.”

She raised an eyebrow and glared into him. “Cute. What's your real name?”

“Does it matter?”

She frowned and adjusted her weight in her stilettos. “Of course, all guests have to sign-” Her breath caught in her throat when he cleared the space between them in one step and pulled her flush to him by the small of her back. She shivered in his arms and a sensual gasp fell from her lips. The corner of his mouth raised. That’s what he thought damn it. Fucking puddy in his arms.

“Devlin Sinn.” He whispered in her ear trailing a finger down her spine. She shivered again. Her mouth opened, but no words came out. Rendered her ass speechless. He laughed inside. She had no idea who she was fucking around with. His eyes fell to her open mouth poised in a way he could imagine he’d see when he slid his hard cock inside her. He was throbbing in his black leather pants just at the thought. There was no doubt, no question, he wanted this woman writhing under him while he showed her what a fucking happy ass Valentine’s day was all about. “I’m going to fuck you.” He whispered in her ear, having every intention of making that proclamation come to fruition. She pulled away meeting his eyes her eyebrows knit in what looked like confusion. He hadn’t studdard. He was very clear about what he said, but he was sure no man had ever spoken to her in such a way because they were all cowards.

A sting across his cheek made him smile with some sort of unspoken delight. She pulled from his hold and walked away her back stiff, steps deliberate. She was pissed off and that made him want her even more. Because if he hadn’t affected her she wouldn’t have given him a care in the world. The fact that he incited any emotion even if anger, told him she would be his before the night ended.

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