Page 5 of Devils Cut

"Thanks," I muttered, stepping through the doorway as he followed closely behind me. The sudden closeness made my heart race, and I took a deep breath to calm my nerves. His scent was unmistakable – leather and cinnamon, an intoxicating combination that made it difficult to focus on anything else.

"Office is right there," Corvus pointed down the hallway, where four doors stood before us. I nodded, trying to keep my wits about me as I walked towards the door marked 'Office'.

My pulse quickened as I reached for the handle, only for Corvus to lean over me and turn it himself. The proximity of his body sent goosebumps across my skin, and I forced myself to swallow the lump forming in my throat.

Once inside the office, Corvus pointed to a worn, uncomfortable-looking wooden chair situated in front of an imposing desk. "Take a seat right there," he instructed, his voice smooth and commanding.

"Sure thing," I replied, trying to sound more confident than I felt. I popped myself down into the chair, my body tensing as it groaned under my weight. Already, I could feel the hardwood digging into my flesh, but I ignored the discomfort, keeping my eyes locked on Corvus.

He moved past me, each step deliberate and controlled, like a predator stalking its prey. I couldn't help but follow him with my gaze, drinking at the sight of his powerful frame, the tattoos that adorned his neck and arms only adding to his dangerous allure.

"Hello, Tempest," he said, taking a seat on the other side of the desk. His chocolate-brown eyes never left mine as he continued, "I'm Corvus King, the Vice President of the Devil Cut MC here in Phoenix.”

Chapter 4

Corvus King

Icouldn't hurry into my seat quickly enough, my heart pounding in my chest. For the first time in my life, I wanted to cross my legs to hide the bulge of my dick in my pants.

Goddamn, I had never seen a woman so fucking beautiful in my life. She was tiny, with not a drop of fat on her body. It didn't look intentional – more like malnourishment. She had long black hair that fell in waves down her back, yellow eyes that seemed to pierce right through you, and lightly tanned skin. Looked like she spent some time in the sun, but her skin refused to take on much colour from it.

"I'm Corvus King, the Vice President of the Devil's Cut MC here in Phoenix,” I said as I leaned closer to her from my seat across the desk.

"Hi, Mr. King, I'm Tempest Miller," she replied, her thick Australian accent instantly catching my attention.

Her accent was something we didn't hear much around these parts, and it got me curious – what brought her all the way out here?

"Are you here on holiday or something?" I asked, watching as her yellow eyes darted around the room before settling back on mine.

"No," she said with a small shake of her head. "I just moved here. And, well... I have no intention of going back to Australia."

"Really?" I couldn't help but wonder why someone would leave their home so definitively. "Well, Phoenix is a hell of a city. You'll get used to it eventually."

"Thanks," she said, offering a tight-lipped smile.

"Anyway," I continued, trying to steer the conversation back to business. "You’re looking for a job."

"Yes, bartending if possible," she shrugged.

"Got any experience?" I asked, searching her gaze for any hint of untruth.

"Yeah, I did some bartending back in Australia," she confirmed, those yellow eyes never leaving mine. "I know things run a bit differently here, but I'm sure I'll pick it up easily."

"Good to hear," I replied, my mind racing with thoughts of how this mysterious woman would fit into our world. Dirty Devils wasn't just any biker bar—it was a haven for the criminal underworld, a place where loyalty was everything and violence lurked just beneath the surface.

"Alright, Tempest," I said, trying to maintain my composure. "How soon can you start?"

"Right away, if that's what you need," she answered without hesitation.

"Tomorrow works for me. Amanda will show you the ropes." A brief look of relief flickered across her face, and I felt a strange warmth in my chest. Had I just made her day better? It was a foreign feeling, one I didn't often experience in this line of work.

"Thank you," she said sincerely. "But I have one request."

My brow furrowed, curiosity piqued. "What's that?" I asked.

Tempest hesitated, her gaze darting around the room before landing back on me. "I don't like to be touched. At all, So could I stay behind the bar at all times? No coming out to collect glasses or anything?"

Her voice cracked a little, and I could see genuine fear in her eyes. She was hiding something, but I couldn't put my finger on it. Being the VP of an MC meant I'd seen some shit, but it also meant I had a heart – a bigger one than most people gave us credit for.

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