The Biker’s Revenge: Loving The Enemy’s Daughter

Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Blade’s pov

The taste of Skyler still burned on my tongue hours later—a lethal blend of cold beer, hot fire, and that smart, defiant mouth I wanted to f**k until she couldn't form a single coherent word.

I was shoved underneath a rusted-out chopper in the center of the bay, the harsh clang of my tools against the frame ringing out much louder than necessary. I was trying to drown out the relentless, chaotic roar in my own head, but it was a losing battle. Every single second spent inside this clubhouse was supposed to be about one clinical thing: getting close enough to put a bullet right between Stone Callahan’s eyes.

He had killed my father. It wasn't some faceless, corporate club order. It wasn't a group hit carried out by nameless prospects. Stone himself had pulled the trigger while my old man bled out in a rain-slicked alleyway ten years ago. I’d seen the indisputable proof in leaked crime scene photos; I’d heard the panicked confirmation from the one Reaper witness I’d squeezed dry before slitting his throat. Stone Callahan had looked my father right in the eyes and ended him.

Now, I was living under the bastard's roof, fixing his fleet of bikes, and eye-f*****g his only daughter. The obsession had completely twisted my clean vision of revenge into something filthy, complicated, and entirely unstoppable.

“Get your head straight, asshole,” I muttered to myself, the wrench slipping and barking my knuckles against the engine block. I didn't even feel the sting. Every time I dragged my eyelids closed, all I saw was Skyler bent over the hood of a bike while I claimed her right under her father’s nose.

The heavy garage doors rattled open on their tracks. The sound of thick leather boots scraped against the concrete—multiple sets.

I slid out from beneath the chopper just in time to see Stone Callahan stride into the bay. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with thick streaks of gray threading through his dark beard, and his leather cut was worn like a crown of bones. This was the man whose hands were permanently stained with my father’s blood. An absolute torrent of black, suffocating rage boiled up hot in my chest, but I locked it down behind a wall of ice. Cold. Calculating.

And standing right behind him was Skyler.

She caught my eye immediately, that wicked, knowing smirk playing on her swollen lips like she knew exactly how I’d spent the entire afternoon imagining her screaming my name.

“New guy,” Stone grunted, jerking his chin at me with an old, predatory authority. “Blade, right? Skyler says you actually know your way around an engine. Prove it. The transport van’s acting up, and we need it running for the supply run tonight. Fix it, or ride the f**k out.”

I wiped the black grease from my hands slowly, intentionally meeting his hardened stare without a single hint of flinching. These were the exact same eyes that had stared down my father before ending his life.

“I fix what needs fixing, Prez,” I replied, my voice dangerously steady. “No questions asked.”

Stone studied me for a beat too long—a seasoned apex predator sensing another predator in his territory. “Good. Skyler, show him the van. Keep a close eye on this one. He looks like he’s got a mouth on him.”

She saluted her old man with mock sweetness, her eyes never leaving mine. “Yes, sir. Wouldn’t want our new stray causing any trouble.”

The exact second Stone and his Vice President cleared the garage doors, Skyler sauntered over. She didn't hesitate to trail a grease-streaked, slender finger down the center of my chest. The brutal contrast hit me like a physical blow—the blistering heat of her skin against the cold, unpayable blood debt I owed her father.

“Stray, huh?” I caught her by the wrist, pulling her finger up to my mouth and biting the soft pad of it just hard enough to make her gasp. “Careful, Sparks. Keep looking at me like that and Daddy might start to notice how soaked you get for the man who’s going to ruin him.”

Her eyes flashed with an immediate cocktail of heat and pure challenge. “Big words again, Blade. You gonna keep teasing me all day, or are you finally going to back it up?”

She stepped fully into me, pressing her front against my chest. Her breasts were incredibly soft against my leather vest, and she rolled her hips in a slow, agonizing grind that made my c**k throb violently against my zipper.

“Or maybe you’re just all talk,” she whispered, her breath hot against my throat. “Maybe you’re just scared of what a Reaper girl does when she wants it rough.”

I didn't answer. I just spun her around in a flash, pinning her back flush against the side of the transport van, my heavy body completely covering hers. I fisted my hand into her thick, dark hair, tugging just enough to force her head back so I could drag my teeth aggressively down the sensitive cord of her neck.

“Scared? I’ve been hard since you whispered in my ear last night, Sparks,” I growled, my lips brushing the skin over her pulse point. “Keep pushing me and I’ll bend you right over this f*****g hood and drive into you so deep you’ll feel me for days—all while your father is loading weapons ten feet away.”

Skyler let out a low, ragged moan, arching her back into my touch. Her hand slid down between our bodies, her palm completely cupping my c**k through my heavy denim, stroking it once, twice—a merciless, agonizing tease—before she pulled away with a breathless, triumphant laugh.

“Mmm. Impressive,” she purred, her eyes dark with lust. “But can you handle a girl who actually bites back, stranger?”

I growled, nipping her earlobe sharply. “Keep running that mouth and we’ll find out exactly who breaks first.”

We spent the next two hours working on the van’s busted alternator side by side, the s****l tension crackling hotter with every passing minute. Our bodies brushed “accidentally” every time we reached for a tool. Every single time she bent over the engine bay, I gripped her hip firmly, leaning in to whisper a graphic description of exactly how I’d eat her p***y until she begged me to stop. And every time I reached past her to tighten a bolt, she deliberately ground her ass back against my aching c**k, laughing low and throaty when a curse slipped past my teeth.

“You’re dangerous, Sparks,” I rasped, my lips pressed against her ear while my hand slipped covertly beneath the hem of her tank top, my palm flat against the smooth skin of her stomach. “I came here for blood, but you’re making me want to bury myself so deep inside you first. Raw. Hard. Until you forget every other man alive.”

“Promises, promises,” she shot back, her voice husky and strained, though her n*****s were completely hard, poking against the thin fabric of her top. “You talk like you’ve never been put completely on your knees by a woman half your size.”

I grinned wickedly against her skin. “Keep playing with matches, sweetheart, and I’ll put you on your knees later tonight.”

By the time the van’s engine purred with a smooth, flawless roar, the sun was sinking below the horizon, casting long, bloody shadows across the gravel lot. Stone’s crew began loading up the crates for the heavy weapons run. It was the perfect opportunity to gather the logistical intel I needed to feed back to my Iron Vipers brothers.

But my eyes kept dragging right back to Skyler as she stripped off her grease-stained coveralls. Her tight black tank top left absolutely nothing to the imagination. She caught me staring and deliberately arched her back, giving me a full view of her curves.

“Eyes up here, Blade,” she teased, though she closed the distance between us anyway. “Or are you already thinking about tonight?”

I stepped forward, backing her right into the shadowed, unlit corner of the bay. My hand slid back under her tank top, my palm flat against her warm belly, inching higher and higher until my thumb grazed the sensitive underside of her breast.

“I'm thinking about a lot more than just tonight, Sparks,” I whispered, my voice thick with a dark, primal need. “I’m thinking about exactly how you’ll sound when I finally get my tongue on that pretty p***y. How you’re going to beg me when I stop playing games and give you every single thick inch of me—while your old man is out there spilling blood.”

Skyler’s breath hitched completely. She wrapped her fingers around my wrist, but she didn't do a damn thing to stop me as my thumb rolled over her tight n****e.

“You’re playing with absolute fire,” she whispered, her hips rocking instinctively against my thigh. “What if I want more than just your c**k, Blade? What if I decide I want you—all of you?”

The words slammed into me like a head-on collision, shattering a piece of my resolve.

For a terrifying split second, my vision of revenge fractured. Stone Callahan had murdered my father. I was here to destroy his legacy and put him in the ground. But Skyler—my mouthy little Sparks—was burrowing so deep beneath my skin that I was starting to crave her body more than the kill. The obsession had me completely by the throat. I wanted to f**k her, I wanted to break her fierce loyalty, and then I wanted to make her watch while I destroyed everything she had ever known... or maybe I’d just keep her for myself anyway.

I crashed my mouth down on hers, ending the thoughts with a hard, deep, claiming kiss that poured every ounce of my dark, twisted need into her lips. She whimpered into my mouth, fisting her hands tightly into my shirt as my thumb worked her n****e through her top. The kiss turned filthy in seconds—our tongues battling for dominance, her hips rocking desperately against me in the shadows.

Outside, a dozen heavy engines roared to life. Stone’s loud voice barked final orders to his men.

Skyler tore her mouth away, her lips beautifully swollen, her eyes wild and completely blown out. She jabbed a sharp finger right into my chest.

“Tonight,” she whispered, her breathing ragged. “My room. Right after the crew gets back from the run. If you show up, you better deliver on every single word, Blade.”

She turned and walked away, her ass swaying in a tight, rhythmic challenge that felt like pure temptation, leaving me rock-hard and reeling in the dark.

I adjusted myself with a rough exhale, my mind spinning into a darker territory than ever before. Stone Callahan had murdered my father in cold blood, and tonight’s weapon run would give me the exact opening my club needed to strike.

But as I watched her disappear into the clubhouse, all I could think about was getting back to her. To the daughter of the man I had to kill... and the one woman I was starting to need more than vengeance itself.