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CRASH: The Rogue Sinners MC by Claire St. Rose (73)


 

“It’s official,” Peyton said as she tossed a piece of paper onto Ironside’s desk then hopped up to sit on the corner.

 

“Did the doctor say it was because you missed the pill?” he asked.

 

“She said it was possible. It being the first pill of the cycle increased the chances.” She normally took her pill every night right before bedtime, but after everything that happened in the motel, she’d forgotten. The next evening, when she realized it, she took both doses, and hadn’t thought anything about it, but when she was late on her period she felt the rush of impending doom and decided to check. That had been two weeks ago, and she’d just returned from the doctor’s office.

 

She had cried as she told Ironside the news, promising she wouldn’t make trouble for him, she wouldn’t ask anything from him, and begged him to not throw her out. He had reacted with shock, and surprise, but then had pulled her into a hug and held her until she stopped crying.

 

He’d been taken aback by Peyton’s pregnancy. He knew she was on the pill, and he also knew she wasn’t ready to become pregnant, so he hadn’t worried she would try to trap him when they’d given up using condoms. While he had been surprised by her announcement, what had upset him more was her concern he would turn her out onto the street with nothing. After he got her calmed down, he assured her he would see the baby was well taken care of and he wasn’t turning her out.

 

Since then he’d been thinking about it and last night, as they made love, he’d reached a decision on what he was going to do. Now that the Saracens were out of the way, things were looking brighter for the club and he had more options.

 

“It’s your fault for dumping so much come into me,” she teased.

 

“As I recall, it was you who was begging for it,” he replied with a crooked smile.

 

She shrugged with a grin. After the initial shock had worn off, her pregnancy had entered into their regular banter. “What can I say? Birthdays come only once a year, but we come every night. Sometimes more than once.”

 

He grinned. He had a surprise for her. “We have another production crew lined up for BKS.”

 

“Great!”

 

“They want to shoot some test footage.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“I want us to be there.”

 

“Us? Why?”

 

His grinned widened. “We’re going to be in the video.” His grin widened even more as hers flickered and faded. “Not to sell, but for us. You can pick the setting.”

 

“I don’t know about that,” she said warily.

 

“Why? You didn’t seem to mind fucking me when Dolch or Whiteshirt was on the phone, or in the motel with the door open where everyone could see.”

 

“That’s different. Dolch and Whiteshirt weren’t actually watching. At the motel…I sort of forgot about the door.”

 

He chuckled. It wasn’t often he could make her squirm, out of the bedroom anyway. “Nobody will be there but the production crew, and they’re all professionals.”

 

“Why do you want to do this?”

 

“Several reasons. First, we need a test. The last test footage was destroyed along with everything else. Second, I want to see myself making love to the most beautiful, sexiest woman in the world. And third, I think if you’re going to run the place, you should know how it all works, in front of and behind the camera.”

 

“I guess, but…wait, what did you say?” she asked.

 

“I said we needed to shoot some test—”

 

“No. After that,” she interrupted.

 

“That I wanted to see myself—”

 

“No, damnit! The last part.”

 

His grinned widened and he chuckled. “That if you’re going to run the place, you need to see how it works in front of as well as behind the camera.”

 

She stared at him a moment. “What are you saying? You want me to run BKS? Why?”

 

“For a while. Whiteshirt, Hammer and I have talked about this. We have our hands full at the moment. There’s a power vacuum with the Saracens gone and we’re trying to keep a lid on the coke and gun trade in their territory while we get control of it. The underground knows we’re weakened and they’re trying to take advantage. We don’t have the time to devote to getting the BKS off the ground right now, but that’s our ticket for the future and I don’t want to delay the startup any longer than we have to. If you can just manage it through the startup headaches. After that, if you want to quit, we can probably take it over.”

 

“Why me?”

 

“Because I know from experience you know what’s sexy and you have a good imagination. I want to see if that translates to the screen. If you don’t want to manage BKS after the baby arrives, but want to keep your hand in, maybe you could be our production designer or something. If you don’t want to do it, that’s okay, we can find someone else, but I wanted to give you first crack at it.”

 

She thought about it a moment then smiled. She’d always survived by working odd jobs and hooking up with somebody, more or less trading her body for a place to sleep. It had started out that way even with Ironside, but he was offering her much more than a place in his bed; he was offering her a chance to actually make something of herself.

 

“Yeah, I think I’d like to give it a try. Do I get a free hand to make the videos I want?”

 

“So long as they make us money, why would we care? Why? Do you have something in mind already?”

 

“Yeah, I do. I’ve watched porn, but it’s hard to find something that isn’t all cocks in pussies or asses and fucking and screaming and bad acting. I want to see two people actually making love, start to finish. No cuts, no close ups of his cock in her pussy. None of that typical stuff. Realistic. Get a couple of people who actually want to fuck each other, set the scene, then let them do what comes naturally, with real orgasms, and he doesn’t come on her face unless she actually is into that shit. Female friendly, you know?”

 

“What about the sets?”

 

“What about them?” she asked. “Women would like to fuck on the beach or in a jungle. I’ll have to think about the dungeon one. Maybe we’ll convert that to a castle or something.”

 

He waved his hand, more convinced than ever BKS was in good hands. “Do what you have to, just don’t break us. So are we going over there for the test or not?”

 

“When?”

 

“Tomorrow.”

 

She smiled as she warmed to the idea. “I’ve never even seen the ocean…and we could do what I wanted to do on the sandbar. Can we shoot it in the style I want to use?”

 

“I think that would be wise, don’t you?”

 

She grinned then leaned in close, pulling his lips to hers. “I’m going to wear your ass out,” she murmured as their lips parted. If they were going to do this, she wanted to do it before she began to show.

 

“You can try,” he whispered in reply, pulling her lips to his again.

 

She slowly sat up from the kiss, already feeling itchy for his touch, and it was only three in the afternoon.

 

“Since you’re the new creative director for BKS, I have something else to show you,” he said as he pushed his chair back. She would have gotten her surprise anyway, but this way it was more dramatic.

 

“What?”

 

“You’ll see.” He stepped out of his office. “Hammer, can you go get the surprise, please?”

 

The Teutonic Knights Sergeant at Arm nodded. Ironside had told him to expect this when Peyton returned from the doctor. “Sure. Be back in a moment.”

 

“What are you up to?”

 

“You’ll see. Have a seat.”

 

“Bjorn…” she said slowly.

 

“Jesus! You’re so suspicious,” he teased. “Just sit down.”

 

She sat. In the five weeks since the motel, the women and members who had been unsure of her had welcomed her into the club with open arms. They enjoyed her fiery attitude, quick wit and sharp tongue. Most members had heard the rumor that she was a mole for the Knights, but it wasn’t until after the showdown in the motel it had been confirmed, and their opinion of her had gone up another notch.

 

With their shared experience in the motel, working for their rescue, Peyton and Sloane had bonded tight, and Sloane was helping her overcome her sense of loss over Melissa. For the first time in her life, she felt at peace and at home, like this was where she belonged.

 

When Hammer stuck his head into the clubhouse, Ironside rose. “Ready for your surprise?”

 

“I guess. Is it going to make me cry?”

 

He chuckled. This one might not, but he suspected the next one would. “I don’t know. We’ll see.” He led her out into the parking lot where a gleaming new Taurus SHO sat. “I can’t have you arriving to work in a cab every day,” he said.

 

“That’s mine?”

 

“Technically, it belongs to the club as a business expense, but yes, it’s yours.”

 

She threw herself into his arms. “Thank you! You didn’t have to do that. I could keep driving your car.”

 

“No, I couldn’t have you doing that either,” he said as the rest of the club laughed. They knew how much he babied his Chevelle. “This one is much safer.”

 

Whiteshirt nodded sagely. “I’m sure he was only thinking of your safety. Yours and the baby’s.”

 

She giggled as she kissed Ironside. “I’m sure. That, spilled milk, dirty feet, and soggy Cheerios. Show me,” she said pulling out of his arms and walking to the car. It was a large sedan, but it was dressed out nicely with fancy wheels and a deep red paint that made it more than a typical mom-mobile.

 

She spent a half hour sitting in her car, already claiming it, pushing buttons and playing with the controls, cranking the stereo and grooving out in the driver’s seat as she smiled.

 

He watched her poke and prod at the car. His life was about to change in a big way, but he was looking forward to it. He hadn’t known it until she had walked into the bar, but he’d been looking for something, for someone, and she was sitting in the driver’s seat of the car, making duck faces as she boogied to Welcome to the Jungle by Guns ‘n Roses.

 

He smiled, caught Whiteshirt’s eye, and gave a small nod. He gave him a small nod in return and quietly began to usher everyone back into the clubhouse. The only person who didn’t know what was coming next was Peyton.

 

“You like it?”

 

“It’s beautiful!” she gushed. “I’m going to have to treat you extra special tonight.”

 

He chuckled. When she was in the mood for something extra or special, it usually involved a lot of sweat, moans and orgasms. She stepped out of the car and locked it, giggling in delight. He chuckled again then escorted her back into the clubhouse.

 

As they stepped in, she coasted to a stop. The entire club was gathered, watching them, some of the women looking like they were struggling to not cry. “What’s going on?” she asked as he gave her a gentle push in the back to start her walking again. She dragged her feet a bit, unsure of what was going on, but his hand firmly in her back kept her moving.

 

They stopped, and he turned her toward him, pulling his Teutonic Knights ring off. He lifted her hand and slid the ring onto the fourth finger of her left hand. The ring swallowed her finger, but that was okay. Once she knew, he could get her a proper ring.

 

Her heart nearly stopped as the giant ring slid onto her finger as he held her hand. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. He looked into her eyes as hers filled with tears.

 

“Peyton Haase…” he said quietly. “Will you marry me?”

 

He held her hand, watching her eyes as they overflowed and tears began to crawl down her cheeks. She wanted to say yes, but she couldn’t speak, so she nodded then threw herself into his arms as the Knights began to clap and cheer.

 

THE END

 

 

 

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