He rides for a motorcycle club. I kill for a living. We were never supposed to cross paths let alone end up chasing the same target across state lines. But from the second the sexy, tattooed biker looked at me like he wanted to drag me into sin, walking away stopped being an option. Now we're sharing motel rooms, secrets, and enough tension to start a war. He thinks I'm dangerous and if he knew the truth about me? He'd be right. ​​​​​​​ Too bad I'm already addicted to the way he touches me like he knows exactly how to break me. And if this mission goes sideways, one of us is ending up dead.