by Aiden Bates
And by some fucking miracle he wanted to be with me. I wouldn’t ever take it for granted. I’d be worthy of his love. I’d work for it every day.
In the bedroom Raven was sprawled on his front like I’d instructed, his cheek pillowed on his folded forearms. He peered over his shoulder at me, grinned, and then dropped his cheek back down.
“Hey there, gorgeous.” I crawled onto the bed and straddled his thighs then skated my hands down his back and over the curve of his ass.
Raven hummed in pleasure and wriggled beneath me. “Don’t tease me. Not now.”
“But I love teasing you.” I leaned down and kissed his shoulder.
“I know you do,” Raven said, craning his neck towards me. I took the hint and kissed him hard on the mouth. “But don’t you also love fucking me?”
“Fuck, Raven,” I murmured into the kiss. “The mouth on you.”
“You didn’t answer the question.”
“I love you,” I said. “And I love fucking you.”
Raven laughed and wriggled harder. “Touch me.”
Warmth flooded me. Is this what sex could be? Passionate, loving—and fun? As silly and mischievous as Raven himself? I leaned over to my nightstand and fished out my lube.
I worked Raven open with my fingers until he was gasping and sighing into the sheets as he pushed his hips back against my hand.
“Come on, Gunnar,” he murmured. “I want you. Please.”
I couldn’t resist him, not when his voice was so breathy and desperate. I stroked myself a few times, just enough to get my hard cock slick, and then pressed the head of my cock to his hole.
I slid into him slowly, steadily, one long push until I was buried inside him. As I did so, I stretched out on top of him, my chest to his back, my mouth on his neck, breathing hard against his sweat-slick skin. The full-body contact was delicious—every hitch of his breath resonated through me, every moan and gasp, every clench of his muscles vibrated all the way to my bones.
I moved inside him, pulling out just enough to thrust back in deep and hard, and Raven pushed his hips backwards to take me deeper. He cried my name as he matched my thrusts, his cock grinding into the mattress.
I kissed him again over his shoulder, awkward and messy, and fucked into that sweet, tight heat harder and faster. The pleasure built fast and sudden, and it only took a few more strokes until I was coming hard inside him.
“Oh, God,” Raven moaned at the sensation of my cum inside him, squirming against me like he couldn’t get enough. “Please, Gunnar, I’m so close.”
I pulled out and slid my fingers back inside Raven, so easy and smooth after how hard I’d fucked him. He gasped as I found the place inside him that made his whole body tense with pleasure.
“That’s right, baby,” I murmured into his ear. “Come for me.”
Raven came hard. His back arched beautifully as he spilled onto the sheets, and then collapsed boneless.
I pulled out gently, and Raven shuddered at the sensation. I kissed my way down his back, finishing with a little bite at the swell of his ass.
Raven groaned wordlessly, sinking into the mattress. “I need another shower now.”
I tugged him into my arms and kissed him hard. Raven clung to me, melting into the embrace.
“In a hurry?” I asked.
“No way.”
Our eyes met and the depth of feeling I saw in Raven’s dark blue eyes made my head spin.
“I love you.” I was addicted to saying it—it felt as good as holding Raven in my arms. “Raven, baby, I love you.”
“I love you, too,” Raven said. “Now get up. I’m in the wet spot.”
25
Raven
Raucous laughter echoed through Ballast.
“Eventually,” Pops said through his own laughter, “we were able to drag his bike out of the ravine, and the kid helped us. Ankh wasn’t even mad! The kid was, like, thirteen, and he’d managed to hotwire the thing! Honestly, I think Ankh was impressed and had to try really hard not to recruit him on the spot.”
Pops sighed and shook his head good-naturedly. “That damn kid is a Desert Warrior now.”
“No fucking way. Who?” Blade asked.
“Oh, hell no. That information is confidential.”
I laughed, knocking my shoulder against Gunnar’s. We were leaning against Ballast’s bar, with the rest of the club members lounging at tables or at the bar as well. We’d spent the evening sharing stories and memories of Dad; some were funny, some were sad, but all were as welcome and comforting as an embrace.
We’d had a funeral for Dad after his death, but this memorial felt like a completion. Dad would’ve wanted it to be like this: a celebration of his life, not a mournful affair. It’d been painful, but the club had carried me through. It hadn’t fixed anything, but it helped to know that Bane had paid for his crimes. But the Vipers were still out there, and now we knew for sure they were engaged in human trafficking. I took a sip of my beer.
“Hey,” Gunnar said. “You all right?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Just… I’m ready to get back to work. Bane’s out of the picture, but that doesn’t mean the Vipers are any less dangerous.”
“I know.” Gunnar took my hand and tugged me to the edge of the crowd, leaning against the far wall for a modicum of privacy. “There’s more on your mind, though, I can tell.”
“The girl Bane was with, at Darlin’s? Before she went back inside, she asked what we were going to do with Bane. I told her not to worry about it. She almost started crying right there, Gunnar, she was so grateful. She said she’d gotten into trouble with some dealers in Reno and had ended up working at Darlin’s in order to pay off a debt.”
“He was using his own trafficking victims,” Gunnar said darkly. “That fucking bastard.”
“Yeah,” I said. “I’d bet most of the girls at the brothel are trafficked. Who knows how many other places have trafficked workers? And as long as Crave is in control, it’s going to keep happening.”
“I know,” Gunnar said. “This isn’t over. When we’re done, there won’t be any Vipers left. It’s not just personal anymore, it’s a matter of right and wrong. We’re going to war.”
Gunnar looked so serious, so sure of our victory, that I couldn’t help but believe him. We’d wipe the Vipers clean off the map. Bane was just the beginning.
With human trafficking involved, the rules had changed. If it came to light that Rebel was involved in the trafficking, he was doomed. Regardless of how he’d helped us, and regardless of his connection to Logan, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Rebel was playing us, somehow. He was hiding something, and if we were going to continue using his information, I had to figure out what it was.
“All right, all right, I’m not going to give a big speech,” Blade said in his booming voice. “Just a quick one.”
Gunnar and I moved back toward the group. Blade was standing on a chair with a pint in his hand. Behind me, Gunnar wrapped his arm around me and pulled me close. With his solid body behind mine and his arms around me, I knew whatever cruel endeavors the Vipers had in the works, Hell’s Ankhor could stop them.
“Brothers, sisters. Thanks for being here. I know you all miss Ankh.” Blade paused for the murmurs of agreement. “God knows I do. But he’d be fucking proud of us. Proud of each and every one of you. Our enforcers didn’t just get vengeance—they got justice. And in the course of this investigation, we’ve found the rotten truth of what the Vipers are involved in. Ankh wouldn’t want this happening on our doorstep, and we won’t let it happen. As a club, our first and most important goal now is to bring an end to the Vipers’ trafficking.
“But for tonight, let’s celebrate. Here’s to Ankh. Our president.”
Blade raised his glass and the rest of the club followed. Gunnar and I both raised our glasses before taking a sip, Gunnar keeping his arm tight around me.
Blade hopped off the chair and immediately slung his arm around Logan’s shoulder, t
ugging him close to his side. They ambled up to us.
“Gone soft, huh, Gunnar?”
“You’re one to talk,” Gunnar said warmly.
“I’m happy for you,” Logan said.
“See?” Gunnar said. “That’s how to be nice. Take notes, Blade.”
“Logan’s nice enough for both of us.”
“That’s true,” Logan and I said simultaneously.
Pops walked up next to Blade and took a long sip of his beer while gazing at Gunnar. Behind me, Gunnar stiffened, but didn’t unwind his arm from around my waist.
“I take it you boys have sorted things out? Is this the way of things now?”
“Yessir,” Gunnar said. “If that’s all right with you?”
An amused smirk spread across Pops’ face, his bright eyes sparkling. “Are you asking for permission to date my son?”
“Wha—” Gunnar’s hand covered my mouth before I could even get out a full word. I rolled my eyes.
“Yes, sir,” Gunnar said. “That’s what I’m asking.”
Pops nodded, clearly happy with Gunnar’s respectful request.
“You don’t need it,” he said. “As I’m sure Raven was about to tell you. But you have it—I’ve been proud to call you my son for years. This will just make it more official.”
I licked Gunnar’s hand.
“Raven! Gross!” He shoved me towards Logan. Laughing, I straightened up and grinned at Pops and Gunnar.
Pops burst into laughter. “I was going to shake your hand, but I think I’ll pass.”
Instead, Pops pulled Gunnar into a brief, hard hug, thumping him on the back. As they broke apart, Pops glanced between us both. “Your Dad would be so fucking happy.”
Later that night, back at the clubhouse, Gunnar followed me into my room and pushed me up against my bedroom door.
“I can’t believe your Pops approves of us,” he said, still half-shocked.
“You really thought he wouldn’t?”
“I guess so,” Gunnar said. “I guess I keep expecting to wake up from this dream.”
“You’re a better man than you think you are.”
“You make me want to be better. You make me feel like I have a future.”
I shivered. “You do. We both do. Together.”
Gunnar cradled my face in his hands and shook his head slightly, like he couldn’t believe I was real. He kissed me slowly; it was a long, lingering kiss, one that left me melting against him. I wrapped my arms around him and skated my hands down his muscled back to squeeze his ass through his tight jeans. Gunnar groaned into the kiss.
I slid my hands under his shirt and caressed his lower back. I’d never get enough of this—Gunnar shuddering under my touch and murmuring my name into our kisses.
We broke apart just long enough to shed our clothes, and then Gunnar pulled me onto the bed. I landed with a surprised laugh half on the bed and half on his chest.
He hummed and pulled me close. With his hard, muscled body against me, I couldn’t help but push closer and closer until the hard line of his cock pressed into my hip.
Our kisses were so messy they were really closer to shared breathing. I reached between us and gripped Gunnar’s cock, stroking it a few times, until Gunnar caught my wrist.
His eyes flicked open and his gaze met mine. He guided my hand lower, and lower, and opened his legs for me.
“Yeah? What do you want?” I wanted to hear him say it. I’d never get sick of it.
“I want you to fuck me,” he murmured, comfortable and unselfconscious, punctuated with a kiss.
I leaned back enough to watch myself slide my fingers, slick with lube, slowly into Gunnar’s tight heat. He grimaced against the intrusion at first, and I continued to drop kisses along his jaw, neck, and shoulder, my free hand stroking circles idly on his hip. It didn’t take long before his face softened into an open expression of pleasure, his mouth open for his sweet gasping breaths, and his hands clasped in the sheets.
No one else got to see him like this—ever. These moments were for us alone.
“Quit stalling,” he demanded.
“Only since you asked nicely.”
I pulled my fingers out of him, and he sighed deeply at the loss. Then I pushed at his broad shoulders, until he got the hint and rolled onto his side. I pressed against him, my back to his chest, and the contact was intoxicating. I stifled a moan as the head of my cock pressed against his hole.
“That’s right,” Gunnar groaned, reaching his arm back to snag in my hair and tug me close. “Good boy. Come on.”
I set my teeth in his shoulder gently. The pet name sent a little thrill through me. Then with a slow exhale, I pressed into him, slowly and steadily, until my cock was buried inside him.
I wrapped my arms around him like I could sink even deeper. Then I began to shift my hips, just a little, and Gunnar growled in approval and shifted his hips to meet mine.
Soon I was fucking him in slow, deep strokes; it was a luxurious, all-the-time-in-the-world kind of sex, the kind that made sweat drip down my nape, the kind that made Gunnar exhale hard every time my cock slid over that sweet spot inside him. My orgasm built slowly, and I let it stay slow, keeping the pace steady and teasing until Gunnar was pressing hard against me, begging for more.
“Me first,” I murmured into his shoulder, and something about that made Gunnar shiver.
“Then do it,” Gunnar said. His grip tightened in my hair. “Come in me.”
Knowing Gunnar wanted it was enough to push me over the edge. A few deep, powerful strokes was all it took before I fell into my orgasm, gasping his name as I came inside him. Then, without pulling out, I reached for his cock and stroked him hard and firm. His orgasm followed soon after mine, the power of it making him toss his head back hard, like he’d been punched. I jerked him slowly through the aftershocks, until he pushed my hands away, and then I settled for rubbing the slick streaks of cum into his chest.
Once I caught my breath, I cleaned us up just enough to sleep in peace.
Gunnar lay flat on his back on the bed, his arms folded behind his head, so deeply content he was already dozing off.
I snuggled up against him. The fact that we were here together—sharing this moment after so many years spent pushing each other away and trying to pull each other back in—was incredible to me. I couldn’t get enough of him, of how safe and right and taken care of I felt with him.
“You’re my home, Gunnar,” I murmured, and kissed the side of his neck, right at the center of his Hell’s Ankhor tattoo. “I would’ve been lost in all this mess without you. You’re—you’re my anchor.”
Gunnar kissed me back, half asleep. He didn’t need to speak for me to know he felt the same.
26
Rebel
Somehow I found myself yet again standing on the cold concrete floor of Ankhor Works. This was really getting fucking stupid. I had to figure out a way to get the Hell’s Ankhor inner circle to meet with me on neutral territory—eventually someone back in the Nest would catch on to my trips to Elkin Lake.
It’d been a week since Bane went missing. I should’ve known killing Bane wouldn’t have been enough to appease Hell’s Ankhor. Blade and his cronies were still committed to war. And I couldn’t really blame them—if I were in Blade’s shoes, I’d likely do the same thing.
“Just listen to me,” I said, holding out my arms like I was trying to placate an angry dog. “You can’t wage war yet.”
Blade glanced around at his inner circle. It was a smaller group than last time—just Blade, his sergeant-at-arms, two other enforcers (the woman, and the guy who’d stolen my knife last time), and my brother.
“How about you go fuck yourself?” the woman asked casually.
“Siren has a point,” Blade said. “Instead of telling us what to do, how about you eat shit?”
I wiped my hand down my face. I was fucking exhausted. I looked at Logan and found nothing but contempt on his face.
I’d always tho
ught I’d been doing the right thing. Over the years, I’d done my best to draw our father’s attention away from Logan and onto myself: taking the brunt of the beatings when I could, and acting as Dad’s heir in the club so Logan could escape into a new life. When I’d convinced Dad to let Logan leave for nursing school, I’d thought Logan would finally be free.
I should’ve known Dad had his own motivations, though. Once Logan had nursing experience, Dad was more interested in using his skills to patch up Vipers than letting Logan have his own life. So instead of Logan getting out, he got pulled deeper into the club.
But even if Logan hated me, at least he was safe now, and far away from Dad.
“This is bigger than our little rivalry,” I said. I was nearing a breakthrough, and I really didn’t need a club war to start complicating things further. “There’s more at stake.”
“Like what?” The guy speaking was the guy who’d patted me down last time. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with dark skin and eyes so dark they were almost black.
This was the other complication I wasn’t happy about—this Hell’s Ankhor enforcer whose eyes seemed to burn holes into my chest. The memory of his immense hands patting me down roughly, moving up my inner thighs, was one I’d returned to more than a few times when I was alone.
“Like a nationwide trafficking ring,” I admitted. These guys had their hearts set on justice. Maybe if they realized standing down for a little while would lead to an even bigger takedown, they’d do it.
“Why the fuck do you care about that?” the sergeant-at-arms asked.
The enforcer barked a laugh. He crossed his arms over his chest, and I couldn’t help but notice his biceps, and the lean muscle standing out in his forearms. He was intimidating, but I was used to club guys trying to scare me. That dark, serious gaze sparked something in my gut, and it certainly wasn’t fear.
“Because he’s a cop,” the enforcer said.
My stomach suddenly dropped to my feet. How the fuck had this guy figured it out? I’d been so careful all these years—ingratiating my way deep into the club while simultaneously working with the local law enforcement, balancing everything so carefully that Dad didn’t suspect a thing.
