Until Amy

by Jessica Ames

  What she’ll make of the club, I don’t know, but if she’s going to be in my life, she’s going to have to get used to that. Club is a huge part of my every day. These men are brothers to me, even the Tennessee boys who I don’t know that well. They wear the Sons patches on their backs, which makes them family.

  I want to bring her into that fold, but honestly, I haven’t got the first clue how she’ll react. Civilians don’t always understand our way of life, our mantra. In the Sons, everyone is free to be who they are without judgement, without reproach. You want to fuck ten bunnies in one night, no one’s going to say shit to you. Anything goes, as long as it doesn’t break the club’s bylaws. I’m not sure if she’s ready to be brought into a world like this, one so different from societies shackles, but I hope so. I want her at my side.

  A club party probably isn’t the best place to introduce her to my brothers, but I figure it’s sink or swim time. She’ll either get on board with it or she won’t. At least I’ll know. Though, if she tries to run, I’m not going to let her. She’s mine, and she’s going to have to deal with that.

  ME: Never too late for any fuckery.

  The dots don’t come and I wonder if I’ve rushed things with her. I curse my fucking self before she replies back.

  AMY: I finish at 11.

  ME: You want me to come over?

  AMY: Yeah.

  I fucking grin wide.

  ME: See you soon, beautiful.

  AMY: See you soon, Shane x

  13

  Amy

  Nervous energy tingles through me as the doorbell rings. Was it a mistake telling Shane to come over after work? I’m not sure, but the thrill that goes through me can’t be denied. I want him here.

  I run a hand over my hair, checking it’s not sticking up, and then head for the door. I open it and see him standing on the threshold of my house. He looks delicious. He’s wearing jeans that hug his hips, a thick, brown belt holding them up. His dark blue and yellow plaid shirt is tucked into his jeans giving me a perfect view of his narrow waist, his club vest pulled over the top. God, I want to lick him right now.

  He leans a forearm across the door jamb, his eyes roaming over my face before stopping on my mouth. His tongue dips out and wets his bottom lip, making my stomach flip. He’s gorgeous.

  “You gonna invite me in, or leave me standing out here all night?” he asks in his gruff, sexy voice.

  “Oh, yes, come in.” I step aside and open the door wider, giving him access to my living area.

  It might have been a mistake to give a man I barely know my home address, but I feel as if I’ve known Shane forever. I’m comfortable around him. I don’t understand why, but I’m not going to question it either. It’s been a long time since I was last comfortable around a man, but Shane is slowly making those fears, those anxieties disappear.

  As soon as the door is shut, he steps into my space, his hand slipping around the back of my neck and his mouth descends on mine. I sag against him as his tongue slips into my mouth and caresses along the length of my tongue. My fingers scrape up the back of his leather, trying to tug him closer to me as he continues to consume me. I want more, need more. Like a greedy animal, starved and eating its first meal in days.

  He rubs himself against me and I freeze. Images of Hofstadter fill my vision as I remember him touching me...

  I stagger back, shoving Shane away as I do. My lungs burn with the need to take a full breath and my heart is hammering in my ears.

  “Babe?” Shane speaks slowly, cautiously, as if I’m a wild animal ready to pounce. “I hurt you?”

  The softness in his voice has tears brimming in my eyes. Just when I think I have things under control Hofstadter creeps back into my mind, destroying everything. Even from beyond the grave he’s ruining my life.

  “I’m sorry,” I choke out, embarrassment making my cheeks burn hot.

  I do trust Shane. I feel different when I’m with him. Alive. Safe. But when he touches me sometimes it sends me into a spiral I can’t stop.

  “Talk to me,” he urges.

  I want to, but the words won’t come out.

  I sink onto the couch, repeating, “I’m sorry.”

  He doesn’t move to sit next to me at first, then he mutters, “Fuck it,” under his breath and takes the seat next to me.

  “Babe, that’s twice now I’ve touched you and you’ve flinched. Wanna tell me what’s going on?” His voice is soft, inviting and I want to tell him everything, but I don’t know where the hell to start.

  I peer at my hands in my lap.

  “I was assaulted by a work colleague,” I spit the words out quickly, as if saying it fast will make the pain less. It doesn’t. That familiar ache gnaws at my gut.

  I raise my eyes to Shane’s in challenge, daring him to make me a victim of the crime. I don’t expect to see the level of anger in his eyes.

  “Who?” he hisses out.

  “Shane!”

  “I’m going to fucking kill him,” he growls as he pushes to his feet.

  “You’re a little late for that,” I mutter.

  “He’s dead?”

  “Yes. Sit down, please.”

  He hesitates then reclaims his seat. His hand snags mine and the warmth of his palm against mine gives me the strength to continue with my story.

  “I wasn’t the only person he… assaulted. There were several nurses over the years. He was a total predator.”

  “If he wasn’t dead, I’d kill him.”

  I think he’s making empty threats until I see the tight set of his jaw and the fire blazing in his eyes. He’s pissed.

  “Shane, I’m okay.”

  “Know you’re okay. I can see that. You’re a beautiful, amazing, strong woman, Amy, but this shit should never have happened to you.”

  “No, but it did. I had a lot of therapy right after to get through it. I also set up a group to help other people who have suffered workplace abuse.”

  “See,” he strokes a hand over my face, “strong.”

  I smile at him, but it’s sad. “You’re the first man I’ve been with since it happened.”

  He lets out a long breath. “Knew something was wrong the moment you flinched the first time, babe. Didn’t think it was this, but I knew I needed to take things slow with you.”

  “I’m not broken, you don’t need to treat me like I am.” My words are a little terse. I spent a lot of time making myself believe I’m a survivor of my assault rather than a victim. I’m not about to let him put me in that category again.

  “Don’t think you’re broken at all. I think you’re incredible, Amy. And you’re not the only one with skeletons in the closet, babe.”

  I frown at him. “What do you mean?”

  “I have PTSD from my time in the forces. Doesn’t always rear its head, but it’s still a part of me. It’ll pop up when I least expect it.”

  “You’re not the first soldier to suffer with mental health problems, Shane.”

  “No, but I can act… differently when I’m in a flashback.”

  “I’ve dealt with it before. I know what to expect,” I assure him. I’ve seen my share of soldiers, stuck in their nightmares. It’s always hit me in the gut, but I know what PTSD looks like.

  “Babe, it ain’t pretty.”

  “Nothing worth having ever is.”

  I lean forward and capture his mouth again. I want him, that’s never been in question. I’ve wanted him from the moment I saw him sitting in the middle of the road with a broken wrist and those feelings have just gotten stronger the longer I’ve been with him.

  “We don’t have to do this,” he tells me, drawing back a little so our mouths are scant inches from each other’s. I want to nip at his lip and pull him back.

  “I don’t want you to see me as a victim.”

  “Babe, I don’t. I’m pissed at the guy who did this to you. I want to dig him back up and kill him again for what he’s done.”

  He tucks a piece of hair behin
d my ear, his eyes soft.

  “This isn’t how I saw this evening going,” I admit.

  “Yeah?”

  “Thought we’d be having hot rampant sex by now.”

  He laughs. “Don’t want to rush shit, babe.”

  “I want it.”

  He dips his head to claim my mouth again. This kiss is slow, sensual and makes my toes curl into the carpet. He pushes me back on the couch, his weight coming down on top of me.

  My thoughts splinter as he presses his hardness against my core. Heat fires through my pussy as he continues to rub against me while kissing me senseless. Every inch of my skin feels hot as he moves to my jeans, undoing them. I try to keep my mind focused on Shane, on what he’s doing to me. He’s not Hofstadter. He’s not someone who is going to hurt me. He’s a good man and if I say stop, I know he will.

  He lifts off me and tugs my jeans down my legs, leaving me in my tee and panties.

  “Okay?” he questions.

  I nod. I feel in control, which is important.

  “Any time you want to stop, say the word, yeah?”

  “Don’t stop,” I tell him

  He goes between my legs and I feel my panties being slid down. Bare to him, I feel exposed. My body feels shaky, and I’m not afraid to admit I’m scared, but he’s so gentle as he climbs back up me and kisses me. I melt beneath his mouth as a finger moves through my slit.

  I gasp out a breath, my hips arching as he touches that sensitive nub. Fuck, I forgot how good this can be with someone dedicated to giving you pleasure. I forgot how good it can be when it’s freely given.

  He slips a finger inside me, his eyes scanning mine. I whimper as he moves through my wetness, a second joins a moment later and my legs shift as he begins to slide them in and out of my pussy.

  His tongue joins after a moment, licking around my clit as he finger-fucks me. I can feel my orgasm starting to build in my pelvis, can feel the familiar waves of pleasure starting to grow with each lick. His beard tickles the inside of my thigh as he continues to show me pleasure.

  I fist my fingers in his hair as my thighs tremble, the wave building higher. My breath rips out of me in little pants and I moan his name as tingles start to race through my pussy.

  I go over the edge of the cliff with a, “Fuck!”

  Everything contracts down there and I squeeze my thighs around his head as he continues to fuck me with his fingers. I can barely draw in air as my body jerks and fireworks go off behind my eyes like the fourth of July.

  He finally stops touching me and I whimper at the loss of his fingers as he pulls free of me. His beard is glistening with my juices as he straightens and it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.

  I reach for his belt, but he stops me.

  “Small steps, babe.”

  I nod, he’s right. I have to take this slowly.

  “I don’t want to send you home with blue balls.”

  “Let me worry about my balls.”

  He moves so I’m lying against him, my back to his chest and pulls the blanket draped over the back of the couch over us both. I can feel his hardness through his jeans, poking my bare ass, but he doesn’t make a move to see to his own needs. Instead, his mouth explores my neck as we lie quietly.

  “Thank you,” I tell him, tilting my neck to give him better exposure.

  “For what?”

  “Understanding.”

  He kisses me. “I’ll always do what’s best for you, babe.”

  14

  Whizz

  I wanted to stay at Amy’s place, but after her revelation, I needed time to work through the anger floating through my veins. Someone assaulted her? Fuck, if that bastard wasn’t already dead, I’d be going on a rampage right now. I want to kill that fucker. I want to wrap my hands around his neck and squeeze the life out of him, watching the light fade from his eyes.

  Someone hurt her?

  Fuck.

  I tear into the common room of the clubhouse, anger blazing through my veins. I’ve never felt protective like this over a woman, but right now I want to do everything I can to take away her pain.

  My brave girl. She’s been living with that secret. I wonder if she was worried about telling me. She shouldn’t have been. I’d seen what that shit did to a person. Sasha, Rav’s woman, was raped by his brother. I know Amy wasn’t raped, thank fuck, but she hadn’t elaborated on what happened to her and my mind is drawing its own conclusions. Had he put his fingers where I’d just had mine? What had he taken from her?

  I slip onto a stool in front of the bar and beckon Mac over. He saunters over.

  “Whiskey, kid. Neat.”

  He moves away to pour it and Havoc slips onto the stool next to me.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Brother, I can feel the fucking rage coming off you.”

  I rake my fingers through my hair. “Just learned my girl was sexually assaulted by her fucking boss.”

  “Fuck, you need back up?”

  He thinks I’m going after the guy. It’s a reasonable assumption. If he was alive, I would have, but I can’t do shit and that helplessness burns like the fires of hell are eating at my gut.

  “Fucker’s dead.”

  “Shit.”

  It really is. I need someone to direct my anger at. The thought of Amy being hurt, being scared, feeling defiled is fucking with my head completely.

  “The nurse from the hospital?” he correctly guesses.

  “Yeah. Amy.” She’s under my skin and I don’t know how I let her get embedded so fast, but I know she’s mine.

  “She seemed like a good girl.”

  “She is.”

  “You planning on sticking around after this shit is unraveled?”

  Going back to London without Amy right now doesn’t feel like an option. I can’t leave her behind, and I can’t see her uprooting her life here. She has friends, family here. All I have in London is my brothers.

  “You ever want to patch over, just say the word.”

  That doesn’t surprise me that he’d say that. Patching over isn’t something I’d really considered, but moving from the London chapter to the Tennessee one wouldn’t be that much of a jump. I already like the brothers here, and despite nearly getting wiped out on my bike in the first few weeks I was here, I do like Tennessee. It’s a different pace of life to London. Leaving my brothers behind wouldn’t be easy, but there’s always chances to visit.

  “Thanks, brother.” I truly mean that.

  “We’d be fucking honored to have you, Whizz. You’re a hell of a brother. Plus, the club’s never going to turn down a man of your skills.”

  “You might have to fight Ravage over that.” Rav won’t be happy about losing his doc, but my life feels like it’s going in a different path right now, one that involves Amy. I’d claim her tomorrow if I could, but shit doesn’t work like that in the club. I would have to patch over first and take my place in Tennessee. The boys would then have to vote on whether to allow her to be at my side as my old lady—the equivalent of a wife in our world. It’s a big decision. What an old lady does reflects on her man. I know Amy would never do anything bad, but I’ve seen other brothers punished in the past for shit that’s spewed out of their women’s mouths. There are rules, expectations. The women who are best suited to this life are also the hardest to keep under control. Sasha had been a perfect fit for Ravage. Sassy, smart, but she knew how to respect her man. Amy’s never set foot inside the club. She has no idea how this world works, but I can teach her. I want to teach her.

  I’m glad she’s coming to the party this weekend. It’ll be a good way to get her into this lifestyle, to understand what it entails, because I want her to be my old lady, one way or another.

  “Rav’ll be fine. He’s not going to make you stay in London.”

  He wouldn’t. Rav isn’t that vindictive. Even though he’d be pissed about losing me, he wouldn’t force me to stay. That’s not what our life is a
bout. It’s about freedom without judgment. That’s what drew me to the club after I left the army. I wanted that sense of brotherhood and family too.

  I can’t believe I’m even considering leaving London. Since I left the forces, London has been home—well, as close to home as I can get. I’ve never really felt settled there, though. It’s like my brain knew I wasn’t meant to be in London. It was only when I got to Tennessee that I finally was able to relax and feel like I found my place, and that’s because of Amy. Wherever she is, it’s home and that thought doesn’t scare me.

  15

  Amy

  “You look different,” Harmony tells me as she watches me from across the room. We’re sitting in my living room, drinking coffee. It’s the party at the clubhouse tonight and my belly has been swirling all morning. I have no idea what to expect and that has me on edge. I’m used to walking into the unknown in my job, but this is different. This is walking into a motorcycle club’s clubhouse.

  I’ve been to the Broken Eagles clubhouse more times than I can count with Harmony, but I get the impression the Sons won’t be anything like that. Shane seems harder, more intense than any of the men in the Eagles.

  “I don’t know why. I haven’t done anything to myself.”

  She cocks her head and studies me for a moment. “You seem… lighter.”

  I lower my eyes to my mug as a smile dances over my face. “I feel it.”

  “It’s coffee shop guy, right?”

  The knowing tone in her voice makes me grin before I nod. “Shane. He’s amazing.”