21. If you don’t look back

at your car after you park it,

you own the wrong car.

- Truth

Everyone’s tense as we pile into church, claiming our usual seats. Viking sent a massive text calling us here immediately.

Blaze shuffles in behind Chaos, the brothers’ hands loaded with various cups and two bottles, one of whiskey, another of moonshine. They sit and pass the cups to the sides, so everyone will have one. We all hurried rather than stopping for a drink like we normally do. I’ve only been here about four months now, but I’m quickly catching on to how things are run around here.

Nightmare lights a smoke and then puts his pack and zippo in the middle of the table. Various brothers reach for it. Smokey grabs it first, taking one, lighting it, and passing it on. Odin’s busily filling his tumbler half full of moonshine when Viking slams the gavel down.

“I called you all here for a reason,” the Prez grumbles, pulling us from the various distractions. “Torch was able to break one of the Iron Fists we collected from The Pit a couple of weeks back.”

We’re so silent, waiting with anticipation that you could hear a pin drop.

“We got a final location. I called up Ruger, and he was able to do a little recon. He confirmed the Fists’ location.”

Nightmare’s fist lands on the table. “Fuck, finally! It’s been three goddamn weeks since they blew up The Pit and I’m sick of fucking waiting.”

Viking nods. “I know brother, I know.”

Saint sits forward, eager. “What’s the plan, Vike?”

He lifts his hands up, conveying we need to chill the fuck out so he can finish speaking. “That’s exactly why I called you in here. We need to all agree on how we want to handle this. Their attacks were personal. Not only have they tormented the other charter, but they targeted you specifically, Night. You’re ol’ lady and your son, Maverick. They hurt my Cinderella, and you all know I will scalp a motherfucker that touches my ol’ lady. I want blood, as I’m sure all of you do. Blaze, they nearly killed you. Hell, they did kill Scot and Bronx. I say we make every last one of those motherfuckers bleed.”

Everyone nods their agreeance, and I speak up. “They targeted Chevelle too, for over a month now. She’s my ol’ lady, and I’ll do whatever I can to make them hurt.”

A few brothers cast surprised glances at me, but I see something only a few had offered me already—respect. Viking meets my gaze. “We can use all the help we can get.”

I take a swallow of the moonshine one of the brothers passed to me and then nod. He sets a phone on the table drawing everyone’s attention back to him. We’re forbidden to bring phones in this room, so this’ll be good, I’m sure.

“Spidey wants us to put him on speakerphone when we discuss what our plan is. He and Ruger have been working together on the recon of the Fists for us.” He hits a button and puts it on speaker.

“Yeah?” Spider barks into the phone.

“Spidey,” Viking speaks loudly. “We’re making plans, brother.”

“Bet, I’ve been thinking up scenarios since we last spoke on how to go about hitting all three of their clubs at once. I’m putting you guys on speaker as well. I have Exterminator beside me.”

“All right, what do you have for us?”

“From the cameras Ruger’s set up and Google satellites, I’ve been able to pick up fairly decent images of the buildings and the surrounding areas. When we hang up, I’ll send you an encrypted email with photos. Open it in my room on the blue laptop. It’s secure.”

Viking gestures to Torch, and he nods in agreement. “All right, I’ll have Torch go over it with me when we get out of Church.”

“So, we have a few options, but I’ll bring up the one I think will be the most successful. Oh, first of all, is Ares’ charter going to help out?”

“As far as I know, they are,” Viking mutters. I’ve learned that the Prez is decent friends with the Prez of the other charter about thirty minutes away. I’ve met the brothers from there on a few occasions. They seem like good guys.

“Perfect. So, the Fists have a smaller building that has around ten guys there at any given time. I’m certain this is where they keep the drugs they distribute. I think it would be smartest to have Ares clean up that mess when we hit the others. I’ll hack into one of the military’s drones and use that to take out the other building that houses their weapons. They keep another ten or fifteen guys at that one. I think these spots are more like warehouses that they always keep guarded.”

We all stare at the phone, eyes wide after hearing Spider declare he can hack into military grade weapons. The brothers have told me the guy is smart, but damn, that’s an entirely different level of genius.

He continues. “That’ll leave the main club open for you. The property is surrounded by an electric chain-link fence as the first line of defense. Odin should use his contact at the City and get a dump truck. You can ram through the fence, and a handful of the brothers can safely ride in the back. I’d bring a van to help haul the guys back home or something. If you go with this option, you need to come heavily armed and prepare for a fight. Even taking out the twenty or twenty-five at the other buildings, it leaves behind a good twenty or so at the main club.”

“Christ,” Viking gripes. “That plan actually sounds doable, and we have a chance at minimum injuries or blowback on our members.”

“Exactly,” Spider agrees.

It all sounds a bit nuts to me, but it’s one hell of a plan, that’s for sure.

Nightmare huffs. “I’m having flashbacks of our Mexico trip. Anything inside that fence we need to worry about besides a group of pissed off cunts posed as an MC club?”

I have no idea what he’s talking about, but it must’ve been bad by the ashen tone of his face.

Viking’s mouth drops open, a look I’m not used to seeing from him. Ever. “Fuck, good point, Night.”

Spider speaks up. “No, no, nothing like that. Ruger has been watching the grounds himself and has reported back that there are no animals.”

“Pretty sure I can’t run from another lion again,” Nightmare mutters, and I draw in a quick breath between my teeth. Fucking shit, a lion? No wonder Chicago sent me down here. They obviously think I’m just as wild as these fuckers.

Viking shoots his gaze around the room, landing on each of us. “Anyone else have anything to say?”

Everyone remains quiet.

“Good, then let’s vote and work out the fine details.”

Odin cracks his knuckles and begins. “Everyone in favor of Spider’s plan vote aye. Any nays, offer up an explanation after voting is complete so we can look at other options.”

Each of us agrees, ending with Odin commenting “aye” as well. There’s not much to discuss when a member of the NOMADS talks about blowing up an entire clubhouse with military grade weapons.

“It’s settled then. We’ll go with Spider’s plan unless something comes up and then we’ll improvise. Do not show mercy to any of them. They will all be armed and ready to kill. I suggest you do the same.”

“When will we ride out?” Odin questions and then drinks from his tumbler of whiskey.

“Spider? How much time do you need?” The Prez holds his gavel as he asks.

“An hour, maybe two.”

“I’ll call Ares and we’ll get organized,” he informs us. “Prepare to ride in three days if nothing spooks the Iron Fists.” At that, he slams the gavel down, officially dismissing us.

I think most of us are in shock as we leave the room quietly and head straight for the bar. I’d left Chevelle in my room, asleep. It’s been over a month already since the MC tried blowing up The Pit. She’s remained here with me each night.

We’ve fallen into our own routine of sorts. I usually help her during the day with things at The Pit, and as the evening approaches, we make our way back here. Every night I come in here like a man possessed and tell her she’s mine. I think she’s finally beginning to realize that I mean it, and in return, I’m falling for her a little more each day.

When this is all over with the Iron Fists, I can’t help but hope she’ll stay. I want her safe, but I want her with me even more. I’m selfish, no doubt. And most of all, I’m not ready to give her up. I meant it when I said I want to keep her.

“How was church?” I greet the distracted biker as he enters our room. It was only his before all this began, but I’ve been staying here long enough to claim at least a quarter, if not half of it, as mine.

“Surprisingly productive.” His mouth hikes up into a sexy grin.

“Nice. Anything about The Pit yet?”

His eyebrow skyrockets. He’s already warned me about how he can’t share any biker business with me. “No. But, if all goes right, you’ll have less to worry about.”

I’m surprised he’s admitted as much so easily. I was expecting him to tell me to mind my own business. “So, you’ll finally have me out of your hair, then.”

His grin falls, his forehead wrinkling as his brows furrow. “Uh, no.”

“No?”

He steps closer, pulling me to stand on the bed, so we’re nearly the same height. The man is a freaking tower. I rest my palms on his wide, sturdy shoulders and his hands come to grip my waist. “You think once this is all over with, I’ll up and pop smoke?”

I shrug, my throat growing tight. When did I catch a case of the feelings for this brute?

“Not happenin’, sweetie. I’ll still be there every Saturday night, racing your Camaro and taking home my winnings. Perhaps one day you’ll even get the nerve to race me.”

The snort escapes before I can smother it down. “You won’t win.”

“How do you figure?” His icy irises sparkle at my confidence.

“I don’t lose.” I shrug again, this time feeling a bit cocky.

“Babe...” His voice leaves him in a rasp as he leans in, his whiskey flavored breath warming my lips. “I’ve already won.”

My breaths increase, my chest brushing his deliciously from the movements. I swear when he’s near, I can feel everything. “How do you figure?” I copy him, licking my lips, wanting to close the distance between us, yet I hesitate.

He steps back, and I teeter to catch my balance. He reaches to the chair beside his door and lifts a leather jacket that’s far too small to fit him. Stepping back from me, he twists the jacket around and stretches it, so I can easily read the patch on the back.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“For me?”

He nods, suddenly appearing a little nervous. Not like my alpha biker at all.

“No one’s ever gotten me anything like this before,” I admit. Bringing my hand up to his face, my thumb brushes over his lips. “This kinda makes it official, huh?”

He nods again. “I told you, I’ve already won.”

“You would rather win me?”

“Of course. Nothing could ever compare,” he replies quietly.

“Oh, biker...” I pull him to me, finally planting my mouth on his. I lose myself in the kiss, reveling in the knowledge that to him, nothing compares to me. That knowledge is consuming, knowing that you mean something to that extent to another.

He pulls away to set the jacket beside us, then strips me of my clothes. Leaving me in only my thong, he lifts the jacket again, and I slide my arms in the soft black leather. I've seen his jacket hanging up, and it’s the same as mine, only much bigger.

His desire filled gaze flicks over me. “If I wouldn’t end up killing someone, I’d tell you to stay like that forever.” He rumbles. “I didn’t think you could get any sexier until now.”

His blazing stare has me feeling every bit of it too. He doesn’t want some frilly lingerie, but a scrap of underwear and a jacket with his name on it. Men are so strange and yet easy to please. “You like your name on my back, cupcake?” I ask, coyly.

He straightens up and growls. There are no words involved. Just some primal sound that has him sounding more inhuman than the average male. With one hand he jerks me against his vast chest, my arms flying forward to hold onto him. His lips come back to mine, impatient and needy. His tongue thrusts inside as the fingers on his free hand push my panties aside, finding my pussy in a rush.

He’s nearly frenzied like the first time he took me on the hood of my car. Two fingers fill my center, and I gasp into our kiss as he plunges them deeply into my core. He doesn’t allow me to pull away either, owning every whimper and moan that tries to escape between our lips. His other massive hand grips my ass cheek, keeping me firmly against him.

His fingers pump, going in deep and quick until my climax thunders through me. The pleasure soaks my entrance from his touch alone. I never want him to stop this madness—it’s addicting. He coaxes my pleasure so easily, my body wanting to bend to his touch to please him.

His fingers leave me, and I’m so close to begging him to keep touching me. His fingertips rub over my stiff nipples drawing another moan from me. He pulls back, and I ask breathily, “What...” I trail off as he draws his fingers in his mouth next, sucking them clean. Soft pants leave me, witnessing him so savage when it comes to me is a huge turn on.

“I want to taste you when I fuck you, and it’ll be even better if I’m sucking on your tits while I’m buried inside you.” His free hand falls to my thigh, hiking it around his hip so he can sink his length in with one firm thrust.

“Oh, fuck,” I moan as he fills me so completely. “Your cock…it’s so fucking big…so good.”

“Mmm, I love hearing that come from your mouth.” His palm on my ass moves to my thigh to lift my other leg around his waist. When he has me completely wrapped around him, one hand palms my ass cheek while the other grips the back of my neck. I couldn’t go anywhere even if I wanted to. This man and his big-ass muscles have me surrounded by him.

He kisses me deep and wild, his lips punishing my mouth as he takes more and more. This level of fucking is so powerful, so damn primal, I feel like we could bring down the clubhouse if he wished. He’s deep enough that I could swallow and feel the tip of his cock in the back of my throat.

A cry bursts free from me and his mouth moves to my throat, his five o’ clock shadow scratching along the way. The stubble against my skin burns in a delicious reminder that Mercenary is ravishing me. A few jerks of his hip, drawing moans from me isn’t enough. He slams us to the bed. He rarely takes me on my back, but right now, he hikes my legs up farther, resting my ankles on his shoulders as he buries himself to the hilt.

I scream his name, and he revels in it. His gaze is full of possession and promises. I’m falling in love with this man. I know it. I can see it in the way he looks at me, how it hits me straight in my heart. I care for him.

His mouth moves lower, sucking and biting along the way until he pushes my breasts against each other. “I love tasting your pussy juice on your tits, straight fucking perfection.”

They’re big enough that my nipples nearly touch, and he sucks and laps at them with such unrestrained eagerness that I shoot off like a rocket again. My climax is so strong, my body feels like it’s floating through space. He groans into my heated flesh as I cry out in bliss, my body shuddering with satisfaction.

His gravelly voice whispers my name over and over like a chant, and my insides squeeze his cock, rewarding his plea. “You taste so damn good. You smell so damn good. Fuck, I just can’t get enough of you,” he admits and sucks the top of my breast marking me in purple and maroon once again.

I’m not going to be the only one this time. My tongue whispers over his sweat slickened flesh, the salt is tangy and addictive. Reaching the middle, I breathe his scent in deeply, letting the leather and hint of cologne eclipse me like a heated blanket. This may be Texas, but I love it when he makes me burn when he makes me sweat.

My teeth clamp down, and his back stiffens in response. He’s bitten me before, but this motherfucker is mine. It’s time I claim him just the same. My tongue swirls the area, and I draw the flesh into my mouth until I’ve left a mark. I continue my task, peppering half a dozen hickeys over his neck. Releasing the skin, I breathe against his throat, claiming him with a ferocious purr, “Mine.”

“Fucking right,” he rasps and slams into me, pouring his come deep. The throbbing of his thick cock has me exploding all over his dick, gripping and releasing again and again. Both of our centers fight each other as we come together, skyrocketing with our pleasure. He kisses me once more, soundly, ending his passion perfectly. The man can fuck like no other.

Once we catch our breath, he climbs off me, holding a hand out to pull me to my feet. “I love the jacket, thank you.”

He nods, tugging me toward the shower. “Good. I spoke to Princess before she ordered the patch. I told her you’re always in tank tops.” He heads for the bathroom, and I trail along.

“They’re easier to work in, especially since it’s so damn hot here most of the year.”

“She figured. Said she’s going to order you some with my patch on the back, so you always have my name on you.”

“If it were anyone other than Princess, I’d be pissed over this.”

He flips on the shower. “I know, babe. I’m glad you two hit it off, even if you burned half the shit she was cooking.”

I burst out laughing. That was definitely one way for me to leave an impression on the queen of the club. She doesn’t fuck around though, and I liked her instantly for it. He rids me of my jacket and underwear before tugging me into the water with him. His hands already stirring up my fire inside for another round.