14.

“Damn Merc! I’d say the bitch is yours!” Saint calls, a shit eating grin plastered on his pretty boy model face. I’m sure he loves this since he knows I think his ol’ lady is fine as fuck. I figured he and Sinner would’ve left to find Ruger already, but apparently not.

The brothers make their way to us, and I pull my dick free from Chevelle’s tight center, tucking it back into my pants. She stays rooted in place, my come dripping from her slit, breasts still heaving as she sits up. “Fuck,” Chevy whispers for my ears only. Her irises flick over the approaching men. She remains calm though thanks to her orgasm and natural confidence.

She may not care if these guys see her naked, pussy still full of my come, but I’m not thrilled with it. She’s hot as hell with clothes on, naked is even more of a reason for them to try and get in her pants. I set my cut down on the hood and tug my shirt off then pull it over Chevelle’s head. Every bit of me wants my cut over the bitch too, showing the world she belongs to me and no one else.

Chevelle catches on to my movements, covering her up and sticks her arms through the holes, pulling the fabric over her. When she stands, the material comes all the way down to her knees. The sight causes my dick to harden all over again, seeing her in my shit, knowing she’s naked underneath it.

Putting my cut on, I fist bump each of my brothers as they step up, standing around the car. They each wear various amused smirks and grins. Viking flicks his sturdy gaze over Chevelle and then it lands on me. “Quite a show you two put on,” he observes.

I shrug.

“Want to fill me in on what went down tonight?” he asks, and Chevelle stares at me, biting her bottom lip, looking all cute and shit.

“She decided to race and then punch the other driver.”

My brothers snicker and give her props.

I continue, unfazed. “The guy hit her back, so of course I beat him into a coma. And then she had the audacity to get pissed at me over it. We were arguing, so I had to show her who the fuck was in control.”

She snorts, and my arctic gaze turns stormy, landing on her. She quiets with wide eyes. I doubt she’s scared. I’m confident she knows I’d never hurt her. That doesn’t mean I won’t hold her down and fuck her in front of the club again until she admits that I’m right.

The guys all nod, their faces in agreement. Viking shrugs. “Makes sense. You two finished out here?” He gestures to the car and Chevelle’s cheeks redden. I doubt she’ll ever be able to look at that car again without remembering us on that hood.

“For now,” I agree and grab her hand in mine. She pauses to swipe her shorts, and we walk hand in hand behind the Prez to the clubhouse. The brothers trail us as we enter the bar. “I’ll show you the bathroom.” I tug her off to the side.

We cross the dark bar. The light’s at a low, comfortable level and various TVs all turned on to sports channels but muted, and rock music drifts throughout the room. Once we get to the hallway leading to our personal rooms, I open a door off to the right that has the public bathroom. She flashes me a grateful smile and hurries inside. I head back to swipe a clean shirt from my room and then back to pull out a stool at the bar next to Viking. He needed to talk to me; hopefully, it’s not too serious, and it can be handled right here.

“O said you wanted to speak with me.”

“Yeah, he’d told me what went down and then hung up when you started fighting. I wanted to get you out of there before you were arrested and ended up in jail. I heard you liked to knock some skulls around from your old Prez, not that you were always about to get locked up for your temper.”

I shrug and signal for Chaos to get me a beer. “Same thing.”

“Hardly. What’s up with you and Chevelle? Is shit getting serious?”

“Well, it wasn’t before, but after that fight and fuck, I suppose so.”

“We take claiming in front of the club serious. If it’s not a club whore, then we’re expecting to be welcoming a new ol’ lady. You know the club laws here.”

I agree. “I do.” I had to know them and take an oath before they’d even vote on me transferring to this charter. Chicago’s laws were similar but no public claiming was ever mentioned. I guess these Texans like to watch their brothers fuck their women. I can see the attraction to it after witnessing Saint and Sinner fuck Jude in church. Holy hell, that was hot.

“So, we treat her as an ol’ lady then. She’ll get your property patch, but listen carefully...” He trails off, and I give him my full attention.

“If you plan to keep fucking the club sluts around here, you keep Chevelle away. We don’t do drama; I’ll boot her out on her ass if she comes in here kicking all the club sluts’ asses and stirring up trouble with the brothers.”

“I won’t be fucking any of the whores again. Chevelle’s all I want.”

He nods. “Good. Most of us prefer to take the faithful route. That being said, though, the club sluts will come on even stronger at first. They seem to think when we put a property patch on our bitch that they have a chance. They don’t ever realize that they never had a chance in the first place.”

“I’ll keep it in mind. Maybe if Chevy sees them like that it’ll get her to come to her senses quicker.”

“Another thing…when we claim the women, well...”

I stare, waiting, wondering what the hell has the Prez at a loss for words. He’s not much of a talker, but he has me thinking that what he has to say must be top secret or something of that nature. Do they grow tails or something? I mean, what the fuck?

“I’ve been told they go, ah, a little cum crazy.”

I nearly choke. That was the last thing I was expecting to hear from him. “Excuse me?” He has to be fucking with me.

Viking’s tongue flicks against one of his canines before grunting and taking a gulp of his drink. He sets the tumbler on the bar, a smirk taking over as he thinks over something. “When I claimed my ol’ lady, I pinned the bitch down and fucked her in the middle of a bar for taunting me.”

My eyes grow wide. It’s hard to imagine, Princess, his woman, seems too feisty to let that go over smoothly. “And Princess?”

“Oh, she was fucking pissed being claimed out in the open. I’d barely spoken a handful of words to her beforehand.”

My eyebrows must be to my hairline at this point hearing all of this come out. “You started the public claiming?”

He nods. “She slapped the shit out of me in front of the entire bar too.”

A grin breaks free as I attempt to hold back a laugh from spilling. Her slapping him is something I can definitely see happening. My Prez is a brute, though; I don’t see him putting up with it.

“Anyhow, that’s not where I’m going with this. My point is, after the slapping incident, she went a little nuts. She basically jumped on my cock, and I fucked her for four days relentlessly. The only break I had was to eat and shower.”

“Damn, sounds like you locked her down.”

He snorts. “I was dumb enough to think that at the time, but no.”

“No?”

“No brother, I didn’t lock her down. She locked me down. I was fucking hooked. I’ve taken her and planted my seed in that woman every damn day since.”

“Doesn’t sound so bad to me.” I shrug.

He shakes his head, gesturing for Chaos to refill his glass before turning back to me. “It’s not—at all. It’s part of the reason why my loyalty has never wavered from her. I’m her king, and she’s my queen. This doesn’t have to do with me though. The way I saw you and Chevelle act and fuck, it just reminded me of myself when I first met my woman. Don’t be surprised if Chevelle acts a little crazy and possessive for a while. It’s all part of the effects of being owned properly.”

“I can’t believe I’ve never heard of this before.” The concept is a touch crazy in itself. However, it would explain why my presence around Jude didn’t do anything. Usually, I can have a woman eating from my palm if I wanted to, but she couldn’t see past Saint and Sinner. I’m glad too. Clearly, I wasn’t meant to have her. I just didn’t know I’d be meeting Chevelle at the time. “I appreciate the info. I’ll do what I need to.”

“Good. Now we need to discuss those Fists that popped up earlier. What the fuck happened?”

I let him know everything Chevelle told me all the way up until Torch and Odin showed up to collect the unconscious men. When I finish disclosing what I know, she’s making her way to us.

“Chevelle.” Viking greets with a nod as I sit on the other side of Mercenary at the bar. Every man in this place looks like a goddamn tank. I’m not normally very nervous around men since I can usually kick their asses, but this place has me off balance. There’s so much testosterone floating around, I swear you can taste it. Not only are the bikers in the Oath Keepers the size of mountains and full of muscles, but they’re all gorgeous in their own unique way.

“Hello, Viking,” I greet, feeling a bit more confident now that I’ve had a chance to clean up and put my shorts back on.

The MC brother behind the bar approaches me. He’s built like a linebacker and fits in here with the rest of them. I grin reading over his name patch—Chaos. If I was a biker, I’d definitely want a road name like that.

“Cool name.” I nod to the right side of his cut, and he offers me a grin in return. He’s older than the rest of the guys around this place but super good-looking. I don’t know what they put in the water or beer here, but it’s a club full of ridiculously hot, broody, outlaw bikers. I wonder if you have to be hot in order to wear the Oath Keeper patch. It wouldn’t surprise me, at this point.

“Thanks, peach, can I get you something to drink?”

“Sure, I’ll take a seven-seven if you have it.”

“That’s vodka and seven up, mixed with ice, right?”

My grin drops as my eyes scan over the bar, checking if they have the liquor for the drink in stock. “It’s Seagram’s with 7 Up.” You’d think he’d know how to make the simple drink; he’s the only one back there.

“Okay, no problem,” he mutters and turns away to mix it.

“Thanks,” I say, but I don’t think he hears me; he seems to be in his own zone, concentrating on pouring the Seagram’s.

Viking leans in. “He just started tending bar for us this week.”

“Oh.” I nod. Not that it matters to me. It was nice of him to ask if I wanted something since Mercenary didn’t think to.

“Now, Chevelle, would you mind explaining to me your side of what all happened today? I need to know from you shooting those two guys all the way down to my brother here getting into a fight over you.”

“Well, it wasn’t over me, per se. I sort of jumped out of my car and threw the first hit. It wasn’t until the guy punched me back that Mercenary lost it on him.”

“The guy hit you?” Viking grumbles, stunned, his face turning from friendly to grim.

“Yeah. In his defense, I punched him first. The dick ran into my rear end when we were racing, and it’s prohibited at The Pit, for safety. Needless to say, I was pissed.”

“I understand.” His stare lands back on Mercenary. “I thought you just popped off, being a loose cannon. My mistake brother. I would’ve done the same thing had I seen it.”

Mercenary waves it off as no big deal and Chaos sets my drink down.

“Thank you,” I repeat and take a long gulp through the straw. I’m suddenly thirstier than I’d originally thought, and the mixed beverage goes down smooth and refreshing. The racing, fucking, heat, and not to mention everything with the rival MC, has really been a lot to take in.

“You had the Iron Fists knocked out before you drug them inside, right? They didn’t have a chance to touch you or talk to you?” Viking presses on, switching subjects quickly and I shake my head, reassuring him. “Good. I think it’s probably safer if you two start staying here at night.”

“But who will watch The Pit?” I sputter, caught off guard by his suggestion. He wants to protect me? What is it with these guys thinking I can’t handle my own problems? Where were they when I was a ten-year-old living on the streets? I guess they were kids, but still, it would’ve been nice to have someone back then.

“I’ll have my guys ride by randomly, and I’ll also have a chat with the sheriff. See if he and his deputies are willing to drive by a couple times a night when he patrols as well. It won’t be left abandoned or anything.”

“You’re friends with the sheriff? Aren’t cops and bikers supposed to hate each other?”

“In most cases yes, but not in ours. Our alliance benefits the community, and the people’s safety around here is important to all of us.”

I turn to the silent man beside me; he’s usually not this quiet. “And what do you think of all this?” He’s normally first to voice his displeasure about anything to me, it seems.

“Viking’s suggestion makes sense.” His beefy arm falls across the back of my barstool. The heat coming off him so close it makes me shudder as the air conditioning kicks on, and the two temperatures clash against my skin at the same time. “The guys today make five Iron Fists disappearing, all while watching you.”

His thumb trails over my spine, his sky-blue irises full of scorching heat as he gazes at me. “That’s a large enough group to be noticed and to take out retaliation. If they decide to hit back, they’ll rape and kill you, if you’re lucky.”

My mouth drops open. “If I’m lucky?” That’s not my idea of luck, nor should it be anyone’s.

He nods. “They could keep you alive and torture you for who knows how long, along with continued rape throughout the club members. Maybe after so much, they decide to sell you off so some twisted fuck can continue doing the same sort of abuse.”

“Holy shit,” I gasp and swallow the sudden lump in my throat. “How did I get in the middle of this and how can they get away with that?” The fingers on my right hand float toward him, eventually landing on his thigh, unconsciously seeking out his strength.

Viking interrupts. “You started making money. In our world when it comes to gambling, racing, drugs, that sort...if you make enough money, you get noticed. It was their fuck up believing that you’re an easy target without someone watching your back.”

“This is bad. All I wanted to do was run a clean track where people could relax, place some bets, drink a few beers, and watch races. I don’t need these assholes coming and screwing it all up for me. And I damn sure don’t like having my place bombed for their sick entertainment.”

“Well, it may take some time, but we’re working on getting rid of this problem. Luckily you’ll be able to benefit from it as well.”

“By staying here, do you mean with cupcake?” I tilt my head toward the broody biker at my side.

“Cupcake?” Viking snorts out a chuckle and Mercenary grumbles while shooting me an unamused side-eye.

I nod, glancing at the both of them. Mercenary’s the only man I call cupcake. At first, I did it to piss him the hell off, and it worked flawlessly. It quickly morphed into me calling him cupcake ‘cause he was pretty sweet to me when he wanted to be. And now, well...it’s because his cocks as thick as a damn cupcake. The fucker’s got a massive sized dick. I could stuff myself with it all the damn time and be peachy keen.

“Listen, doll, Merc here,” he gestures to the man in question, “claimed you out front. He essentially made you his ol’ lady since he fucked you in front of the entire club and then made you admit that you’re his.”

I blow out a breath, pretty confident I know enough biker lingo to understand what he’s getting at. I ask anyway, just to be certain. “What does that mean?”

“You belong to him; you’re a part of this club.”

I jump to my feet, my thoughts confirmed and my fist slams into Mercenary’s rock-hard bicep. “You ass!”

He stands, towering over me. “Woman, don’t make me take you over my knee.”

I sputter, my cheeks growing warm with my irritation at this bossy-ass man. “You’re off your damn rocker if you think I’ll put up with your macho shit!” I yell, and he moves like a freaking ninja, catching me off guard. I’m good at defending myself when I’m expecting it, but Mercenary whips me up in his solid arms, hiking me to hang over his wide shoulder. I curse him loudly, and his brothers throughout the bar snicker. His hand lands on my ass—hard.

“Shut the fuck up, Chevelle!” he commands, and his MC brothers laugh even louder at his disgruntled boom. He grumbles, “I’ll catch you later Vike, obviously this bitch has been without my cock for too long. She gets mouthy; I have to go fix it.”

“Remember what I said,” Viking responds ominously, and I flash my middle finger at Mercenary’s back. He can’t see me, but it still counts.

I let out my own growl, hanging upside down but I have a feeling that with all the noise in the bar, that I sound more like a pissed off kitten as Mercenary stomps away, taking us to his room.