"Jess. Take a fucking shower."

Oh, man. That sounded like a challenge. Something she'd never responded well to. She pursed her lips and flung her cross-bag on the counter with a bang. His eyes followed it and then returned to her, his brows lifting, but he said not a word.

Her hands moved to the buckle of the chaps that fastened low on her hips. His eyes dropped to watch. She pulled them off and then tossed them on the Formica counter as well.

His eyes bore into hers, waiting.

She lifted her hand and made a twirling sign with her index finger.

He grinned and grudgingly turned his back to her, grunting out a sigh.

She wriggled out of her leather shorts and tossed them up on the counter as well. When she did, she saw his head turn a fraction of an inch and his eyes fall on the discarded clothing as she continued to toss piece by piece up on the counter.

She unknotted his flannel shirt, pulled it off and flung it up there.

Next her bra was added to the growing pile.

And lastly, her panties, like a cherry on top. She saw the muscle in his jaw clench when she got to those, and she couldn't help but smirk. At least she was having some effect on him. Maybe she could torture him just a bit in retaliation.

She wasted no time moving into the far stall. Turning on the knobs, she soon had hot water shooting out the showerhead to cascade down her body. It felt wonderful. She grinned and moaned with delight, loud enough for Ghost to hear, knowing the sound would get to him.

"Hmm, this is heavenly. The warm water running over my body feels so good." God, she should get an Academy Award.

She heard Ghost clear his throat.

"That good, huh?"

"Um hmm. I may never come out," she purred, really rubbing it in.

"I'm not standing here all night, babe, so move it along."

She grinned, knowing by the snap in his voice that she was really getting to him.

She bent down and uncapped the body wash someone had left, bringing it to her nose. It had a manly scent that she actually kind of liked. She poured some into her palm and began washing. Then she shampooed her hair. As she was rinsing the lather out, she heard Ghost growl, "Get the fuck out, bro."

"What the hell, man?" a deep voice complained.

"Move."

"Fuck."

Jessie panicked, crossing her arms over her chest and huddling against the divider, wondering what was happening. She heard a bang like a fist had hit the wooden wall, then some stomping.

"Ghost?" she called hesitantly.

"He's gone. Hurry it up, brat."

For once she did as she was told, dropping the seduction scene and quickly rinsing off.

A few minutes later she turned off the water and peeked out around the divider. "I, um, need a towel."

She watched as Ghost yanked his cut off to fling it on the counter, then ripped his tee over his head. Her eyes slid over his exposed chest. Good God, but he was beautiful. That was definitely not the body of a boy anymore. He was all thickly muscled man. Before she could regain her tongue to ask what he was doing, he tossed his tee shirt to her.

"Here, use that," he growled.

She grabbed it up and looked down at it. "Are you serious?"

"Hey, this ain't the Hilton. There's no towel service out here. It's that or nothing."

She rolled her eyes and retreated back around the divider to dry off as best she could. When she was done, she peeked back out, holding his damp shirt in front of her.

"I need my clothes."

Ghost was leaning against the counter, his booted ankles crossed and arms folded, his eyes on his boots. When she spoke, he lifted them to her, and then the corner of his mouth pulled up, and he challenged, "Then come get 'em."

"Ghost!"

"Yeah?"

"Can you hand them to me?"

His brows went up. "That how you ask?"

She rolled her eyes and gritted out, "Please."

He grinned, his arms coming unfolded as he rose to his feet. "Yes, ma'am."

He scooped up her clothes minus the chaps and strolled over to her. But instead of handing them over when she reached for them, he held them just out of her grasp.

She glared at him as she tried to grab them.

"Uh, uh, uh. Say thank you."

She huffed out a breath. "Fine. Thank you."

"Nicely."

She rolled her eyes, and then batted her lashes up at him with a sugary sweet smile, turning on the southern charm. "Why thank you, sugar. Aren't you just sweet as pie."

He smirked down at her. "Darlin', sweet is the last thing I am. And don't try that game you were just playin' with me again, understand?"

"What game?" she played dumb, frowning.

He lifted his chin toward the stall.

"You know exactly what I'm talkin' about, sugar." Then he gave her a cocky grin, kissed her on the nose and handed over her clothes. "And you're welcome, you little smartass."

After getting Jess set up with a bunk and his sleeping bag from the gear he'd stashed in the shed earlier in the week, Ghost headed out to talk to his brothers.

As he approached, Shades held out a beer toward him. "You get her fed, bathed and all tucked in?"

Ghost glared at his VP's smiling face. He knew the man was teasing him, so he let it slide.

"Were those your chores when she was a little squirt?" Hammer added.

Now, Hammer, on the other hand got a punch in the arm, which probably hurt Ghost more than it did Hammer, since the man was built like a brick-house with tattoo covered biceps as thick around as a Christmas ham. That wasn't how he got his name though. No, he got the name Hammer because he nailed everything in sight. 'Everything', meaning any woman with tits and ass.

"Oww. What, too close to home?" Hammer grinned.

"Can we quit the juvenile fucking jokes now?" Ghost asked with a scowl.

"Probably not," Griz added with a grin. The man was six four, forty-eight years old and with his wavy blonde hair and beard, he looked like the lead character in the seventies TV show, Grizzly Adams. Which was how he got his nickname.

"Okay, boys, cut the shit," Shades admonished, taking a hit off his beer. Then his eyes swung to Ghost. "You want to fill us in on what information little sister could possibly have that's of use to us?"

Ghost nodded across the fire to where his chapter President, Butcher stood in what looked like deep conversations with the VP of the San Jose Chapter, a brother named, Cole Austin.

"You sure you don't want to wait until Butcher is free, so I only gotta tell this story once?"

Shades growled, "Butcher's got his hands full right now. Shit went down with one of Cole's men while you were gone. In fact, I was worried it was somehow connected with you being MIA."

Ghost frowned. "What shit? With who?"

"Wolf."

"Wolf? What happened with him?"

"He was sliced up pretty bad. He's in the ICU in Sturgis."

"You're fucking kidding me. What happened?"

"Got jumped by a sick motherfucker. A DK by the name of Taz."

"No shit? We get the motherfucker?"

"Yeah. That's been taken care of, and that is hush-hush."

Griz grinned. "You missed it, bro. We all went and pissed on his grave."

Hammer pointed to a tree on the other side of the campsite with a chuckle. "Using his cut for target practice."

Ghost glanced over. Sure enough, there was a Devil Kings' cut with a bowie knife nailing it to a tree. He whistled and asked, "Do the DKs know Taz was killed? And by us?"

"No, and we're keeping it that way. As far as they know, he took off. He's always been nomad, and those guys don't live by anybody's rules, so it'll take a while before Big Ed realizes he's missing. And that'll be San Jose's headache."

"So the Devil Kings aren't starting shit with us?"

Shades shook his head. "No. Cole claims it was a personal grudge between him and Taz. The fucker's club wasn't involved. Had no clue what he was up to."

"You sure?"

"Well, I was worried when you turned up missing, but Cole assures me the grudge went back to some shit that went down between him and Taz years ago. Wolf just got in the way. Guess he was supposed to be some kind of sick message to Cole."

Ghost stared. "That's messed up shit. How's Wolf doing? Hell, I can't fucking believe this. We were just with him at the tattoo shop."

Shades nodded. "I know. We've all been watching our backs ever since. But Cole says Wolf's gonna pull through. I guess it was touch and go there for a while. He lost a lot of blood. But he's conscious now and stable."

Ghost lifted his chin to all the club chapters that were still there at the campground when most clubs would have pulled out on Sunday. "That why everyone's still here?"

"That and you being missing, asshole."

Ghost grinned. "Sorry about that, man. Couldn't be helped."

"You lose your fuckin' phone?" Griz snapped.

"Battery died."

"You couldn't borrow one to make a fuckin' call into your club?" Shades asked.

Ghost shook his head. "We were holed up in a shed in the middle of nowhere."

Shades gave him a look. "And why was that?"

"It's a long story."

"Then why don't you fuckin' start at the beginning?"

"Like I said, Jessie's got some info that the club's gonna find useful. Butcher's gonna want to hear it."

"Why don't you run it by me first. Then we'll decide whether to bring it to Butcher. I've got my doubts that little girl could possibly have any information that would be significant."

"This is."

Shades brows shot up. "Then fuckin' tell me."

Ghost twisted the bottle-cap off his beer and pitched it into the fire. Then he took a long swig, turning the bottle up. Then he dropped the bomb.

"Death Heads planted a man inside the DKs Atlanta Chapter."

That got a 'brows raised' stunned expression from his VP. "You're shittin' me?"

"Nope. They're plannin' to take Georgia. Gonna take the DKs down from the inside out. And get this, supposedly we're next."

"Hell, it's no secret they've been trying to push across the state line. Thought we had that handled."

"Yeah, we did. So I guess they decided to change tactics. Swung their focus to Georgia first, but we're next on the agenda. Guaranteed."