Page 2 of Slayin Villain (Royal Bastards MC: Nashville, TN #11)

Villain

Rachel was asleep in my bed, wearing one of my old shirts like it belonged to her. Like I belonged to her.

I sat on the edge of the mattress, boots on, cigarette burning low between my fingers. I didn’t move. Didn’t breathe too loud. Just stared at her.

The neon lights were off. She looked soft in the moonlight.

Not like most of the girls who passed through Royal Road, who laughed too loud and lied too easy. Rachel? She was real. Real curves. Real heat. Real trouble.

And that was the damn problem.

She was too good.

Not in a white-picket-fence kinda way. No, Rachel knew how to take a shot, start a fight, ride a man raw until his knees buckled. But underneath all that fire? There was something I couldn’t touch without burning.

Hope.

She still had some.

That made her dangerous.

I’d seen what this life did to women who had too much of that shit in their blood. Watched it bleed out of them in motel bathrooms and locked cells, one bad decision at a time. And Rachel?

She’d follow me into hell if I let her.

But I didn’t have it in me to ask her to.

Not when I couldn’t even tell her my real name.

Not when my brother still hadn’t forgiven me for what I left behind in Knoxville.

Not when every goddamn time I started to care, it blew up in my face.

I flicked ash into a tray shaped like a revolver. Kingpin gave it to me when I patched in. Said I had a good aim and a cold heart. I used to believe him.

But watching her sleep now, skin flushed, lips parted, hand curled around the edge of my pillow like she thought I’d disappear?

I felt warm.

Too warm.

Too close to something I couldn’t afford.

I crushed the cigarette and stood, running a hand down my face.

She stirred, murmured something soft.

My name.

Fuck.

I walked out before I could crawl back into bed like a simp. Walked the compound like I was one of the ghosts that haunted it. Talked to no one. Nodded at Thorn, ignored Sweet Tea, and kept walking.

Because if I stayed?

I might’ve told her I loved her.

And that was a death sentence in my world.

The next night, Rachel had to work.

I did too.

Sergeant-at-Arms for the Royal Bastards MC, soon to be the Bastard Sons MC. I ran security. I kept the peace. I broke bones when needed and kept a Glock under my pillow. That gun had a name.

Selene.

So did the men hunting me.

But no one here knew that part.

Our compound sat behind a ten-foot steel gate topped with razor wire, cameras on every corner, patched guards with guns on their hips and cigars in their mouths.

Cousin and Gunn in particular. Out front, the flashing neon sign screamed ROYAL ROAD like it was some high-end strip club.

Inside, it was all dirty deals, gun stashes, and power plays.

High rollers. Low lives. Country music stars who owed us favors. Dirty cops who took envelopes fat with hush money. They all came through our doors.

Nashville was a showgirl with too much makeup and blood on her heels. And Royal Road was her damn stage. This was the Kingdom of Sin, and I was the prince they called Villain.

I lit a smoke and watched the crowd from my post against the bar.

Friday night. Packed. One of the new girls was dancing on a pool table.

Completely nude. Nashville Bastards didn’t do shit halfway like my brother and his crew in Knoxville.

Another was riding Thorn’s thigh like it owed her money.

Someone had already bled out in the bathroom tonight.

Kingpin didn’t care, as long as the patch-over went smooth and the cash flowed clean.

“Villain.”

I didn’t have to look to know the voice. Ember Dill. All Tennessee whiskey and heat. The kind of trouble that came with a tight little body.

Still, I turned. Slowly.

She stood there in leather pants so tight they might’ve been painted on, a cropped band tee, her band, the Lower Broads, and a smug little smirk that didn’t belong to a girl pretending to be innocent.

“What do you want, Ember?” I took a drag from my cigarette, eyes dragging down her delicate curves. Couldn’t help it. I was no saint.

She shrugged, lips glossy and dangerous. “I need a date.”

I barked a laugh. “I don’t do prom, sweetheart.”

“It’s not a real date.” She stepped closer, brushing past a drunk hangaround. I inhaled her scent. She’d been drinking, lots. But her eyes were crystal clear. “It’s a game. I need to make someone jealous. You in?”

“Who?”

She tilted her head, letting her dark hair fall over one shoulder. “Rome.”

That name hit like bad blood. “You’re still fucking with that asshole?” There was something about our prospect, the guitarist and her bandmate that bothered me. Something was off. He didn’t smell right.

“Not anymore,” she said, licking her bottom lip slow. “But I want him to think I am.”

I looked her over, not bothering to hide the heat in my gaze. “You’re using me.”

“Don’t act like that’s not what you’re into. Fucking with people. One way or another.”

She wasn’t wrong.

I leaned in. “You know Rachel’s not gonna like this.”

Ember's smile turned cruel. “She’ll get over it. Or maybe she won’t. Do you actually care?”

Not owing her shit, I shrugged.

I should’ve walked away. I had a woman. But Rachel knew the score. She knew the club came first and our deal was open. But Rachel still looked at me like I hung the goddamn stars, the moon and the whole damn universe. I didn’t have the heart to tell her I’d already lit ‘em on fire many times.

Ember hooked a finger in my cut and tugged me a little closer. “You scared of what this’ll do to her?”

“No,” I said, my voice like gravel. “I’m scared of what it’ll do to you.”

She laughed, deep and full. “Try me.”

I stubbed out my smoke on the edge of the bar. “Let’s play.”

Two hours later, Ember was still on my arm. We’d made our rounds through the bar, through the back rooms, the garage. She clung to me like she was claimed, like she belonged to me. And the looks we got. Fuck, they fed me like a shot to the veins.

Rachel hadn’t shown after work. Maybe she’d heard. Maybe she didn’t care.

Liar.

She always cared.

I was just waiting for her to get here and catch me.

Ember had other plans.

“You gonna actually kiss me,” Ember asked, dragging her red-painted fingernail down my arm. “Or just pretend to all night?”

“You asking?” I stepped in, caging her against the concrete wall outside the back of the clubhouse. Music thudded behind us. Out here, it was just shadows and smoke. Just us.

Her breath hitched. “You scared?”

“I don’t scare.”

Then I kissed her.

Hard. Hungry. Hands in her hair, her back arching under my touch. She kissed me like it was war. Bit my lip. Ground against me like she knew I was already hard.

Her hand slipped under my shirt, nails dragging over my abs. “You're better at this than he ever was.”

I grabbed her wrists and pinned them against the wall, holding her there. My voice dropped, dark and low. “Don’t talk about him when I’m kissing you.”

“You’re jealous.”

“You’re playing with fire.”

She smiled. “Then burn me.”

I almost did. Almost said fuck it and pulled her panties aside right there. My hands were all over her, so I knew, she was wet, warm, ready.

But I didn’t.

I pulled back, breath ragged. “Go inside, Ember.”

She blinked. “What?”

“You got what you wanted. He saw us. Hell, everyone did.”

She grabbed my cut again, tugging. “That’s it? You’re just gonna kiss me like that and walk away?”

“Go inside,” I said again, rougher. “Before I change my mind and fuck you against this goddamn wall.”

Her chest rose, mouth parted, breathless.

Then she smiled. “Suit yourself, Villain.”

And just like that, Ember Dill strutted back through the door, hips swaying like sin incarnate.

I leaned back against the wall and moved a hand through my hair. My phone buzzed in my pocket. Rachel. Finally.

But I didn’t answer.

I couldn’t.

Because tonight I didn’t feel like a boyfriend. I didn’t feel like a brother. I felt like exactly what they named me.

A Villain.

I got a text from Rachel.

Rough night. I’m home. Going to bed. See you tomorrow? Unless you want to come over?

I didn’t go upstairs right away.

Didn’t go looking for Rachel either.

I lingered outside the arena for a while, lit another smoke, and watched the stars get swallowed up by the Nashville sky. Too much noise. Too many bodies. Too much temptation.

And I was tired of pretending I didn’t want to give in.

By the time I climbed the stairs to my place, the clubhouse had quieted to a dull throb of music and laughter.

Thorn had some girl in the arcade room, fucking her from behind as she beat my high score on Galaga.

Someone else was yelling about a poker game.

The usual chaos. And none of it was my problem.

Inside my room, it was dark except for the red neon bleeding through the blinds, painting the walls like a murder scene. I peeled off my shirt, dropped it to the floor, and kicked back on the mattress.

I should’ve called Rachel.

But instead, I thought of Ember.

The feel of her tiny body pressed against mine. Her hands in my hair. The taste of her mouth, sweet and bitter and defiant. That woman kissed like she wanted to own me. And God help me, I wanted to be owned.

For a second.

For a night.

There was a knock on the door. Sharp. Measured. Not Rachel’s.

I knew who it was before I even moved.

“Come in,” I said.

The door opened like a secret.

Ember stood there in nothing but that band T-shirt and bare legs. No bra. No shame. Her lips were still cherry red, and her eyes locked on mine like she was ready to finish what we started.

“You lost?” I asked, voice rough.

She stepped inside, shut the door behind her.

“I didn’t get what I came for,” she said, walking slow.

“And what was that?”

“You.”

Fuck.

I didn’t move as she came toward me. Didn’t breathe. My cock was already hard under my jeans, throbbing with every sway of her hips.

“You’re not scared of Rachel?” I asked, voice a growl.

“Should I be?”

“She’s loyal. Fierce. Dangerous when cornered.”

“Sounds like a woman after my own heart.”

Ember crawled onto the bed without asking, straddling me, her thighs pressed to my sides. I grabbed her hips, rough and greedy, and she ground herself against me with a smirk that said she knew exactly what she was doing.

“You think this is a good idea?” I asked, eyes locked on hers.

“No,” she whispered, leaning down to brush her lips against mine. “But since when have you ever cared about that?”

I kissed her. Harder this time. Mouths colliding, teeth clashing, tongues battling for control. She gasped as I flipped us, pinning her to the mattress, my body covering hers like a threat.

Her shirt rode up, exposing soft thighs, bare hips. No panties. Jesus.

“You really came here like that?”

“I didn’t want anything in the way,” she breathed.

I growled and slid a hand between her legs, found her pussy slick and wanting. She moaned and arched under me, nails digging into my back as I touched her just right.

“I should stop,” I said into her neck, though I had no intention of doing so. “I should throw you out, remind you this was a game.”

“Then why are your fingers still inside me?” she gasped, legs wrapping around my waist.

Because I didn’t stop. I couldn’t.

I pushed her shirt up, took her nipple in my mouth, bit down just enough to make her cry out. She bucked against me, grinding her pussy against my palm like she was starving. I watched her fall apart, hips jerking, lips parted, eyes glassy.

“Villain,” she begged, breathless. “Please.”

That broke me.

I undid my belt, shoved my jeans down just enough, and lined up. No protection. No promises. Just need.

And I slammed my dick into her like I was trying to fuck the guilt out of myself.

We moved hard and fast. Dirty. Desperate. Her hands in my hair. My name on her lips. The smell of sex filling the room. She whispered filthy things in my ear, and I returned every one with a hand at her throat, a promise I couldn’t keep.

It was chaos. It was wrong. It was perfect.

And when I came, it was with a snarl and her name on my tongue.

Not Rachel’s.

Not anyone else’s.

Just Ember.

Afterward, she curled against me like it meant something.

Maybe it did.

Maybe that was the problem.

I stared at the ceiling, the red glow pulsing against my skin like blood. My secrets didn’t feel as safe anymore. My lines were already blurred.

And somewhere outside that room, Rachel was probably still calling. Still waiting.

And I was lying in bed with another woman.