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took turns ramming into my ass. Not even when my father died and I’d been denied the chance to go to his funeral.
    I hated to consider what he’d think of me now, how much shame calling me his son would bring him. I’d taken the island he’d willed to me, the one place I equated with happy summertime memories during my childhood, and had turned it into my own personal Alcatraz.
    No amount of guilt or shame would change what I wanted most—to unleash the same torment I’d experienced on my single prisoner. The way she looked at me though, the way she responded, really pissed me off. I wanted a fight. I wanted her fingernails digging into me. I wanted her kicking and screaming and begging for mercy. I wanted her tears and her fucking pain. “Payback is one thing, but the things I want to do to her…”
    Jax settled his chin in his hand, and a wide grin split his face. “Have you forgotten we used to jack off in the same cell? You also talk in your sleep. I know what you want to do to that girl. I just never thought you’d have the balls to go through with it.”
    “Trust me, my balls aren’t the problem. And she’s not a girl anymore.”
    “All the better. What are you waiting for? Go fuck her rough-like. Find the right buttons and push the fuck outta them. Hell, if you don’t want her, I’ll take her.”
    He only said it to goad me, and it worked. “Stay away from her,” I said with a growl.
    Jax held up his hands. “‘Nough said. I’m a firm believer in the code.”
    “What code?”
    “The leave-my-woman-the-fuck-alone code. You want her? She’s all yours.” He pushed up from the table. “I’ve gotta be back in town.” He paused with a wicked grin. “Got plans tonight.”
    “Seriously?” I arched a brow, surprised because Jax had issues when it came to women. Being with a woman usually involved physical contact, and he couldn’t stand to be touched.
    “Plans as in a date?”
    “Uh-huh.”
    “With a woman?”
    He leveled me with a stare. “Yes, with a woman .”
    “Hey, I’m just surprised, is all. Whatever gets you out there, man.”
    “Goes both ways. You need to get down there and fuck her senseless. Eight years is a long time to wait.”
    Shit. He was good at turning a conversation on its head.
    He lifted his jacket off the back of the chair. “Gotta work tomorrow, so I won’t be too late.”
    My brother Adam had given Jax a job when no one else in the area would touch a felon. I also put in hours at Mason Vineyards, but it was mostly to uphold the illusion I was a positive contributing citizen. I didn’t need to work, thanks to my inheritance. However, idleness drove me nuts, made me want to rip into something, and Alex had ruined my career as a fighter, so working off steam the way I used to wasn’t an option. A punching bag didn’t deliver the same gratifying release as pounding flesh. Since I’d taken her though, my presence at the winery was about to become nonexistent, at least for a while.
    “Seriously, Rafe. Fuck the shit outta her.”
    “Is that an order?”
    “Damn right. You’ve earned a piece of that.”
    I was one sick SOB because I felt he was right.

The first time I saw Rafe Mason, he was beating the crap out of my brother. Okay, that was an exaggeration, but watching through the inexperienced eyes of a 13-year-old, even I’d realized Zach didn’t stand a chance.
    Rafe was all rippling muscle, sweat dripping down his biceps as he tightened his choke hold. Let me back up here. They hadn’t really been fighting. They’d been in the middle of an intense sparring match at one of the gyms our father owned. Fuck if I’d cared though. I couldn’t take my eyes off Rafe. His dark and wild hair, plastered to his forehead from sweat, had curled slightly above squinted green eyes. I remembered Mom’s stiff posture and the rigid set of her back as we stood watching. Her mouth had fallen open, as if she were this close to shouting “let him go!” We'd come in on