by Jessica Ames
Harmony leans forward off the couch and places her cup on the coffee table, her expression becoming serious. “I asked Harlen about the Untamed Sons.” She pauses and a chill climbs up my spine as her brow furrows. “He’s heard of them, even had dealings with them. Amy, he told me they’re a real one percent club. They’re mixed up in all sorts of dirty dealings.”
She’s not telling me anything Cobi hadn’t told me the day of the crash, but that image doesn’t mesh with the man I’ve seen. Shane is a good person and he has a good moral compass from what I can tell.
“Shane isn’t like that.”
“If he’s a member of that club, he’s like that,” she assures me. “I’m not trying to upset you, honey, I just want you to know what you’re up against. The Sons have a reputation for a reason. Harlen said the Broken Eagles are friends of his club, but they stay out of their way and for good reason.”
I nibble on my lip as I stare at her. I know she means well, but I haven’t seen any danger surrounding Shane since I met him. Then again, I haven’t met any of his friends yet.
“I’m going to a club party tonight.”
Harmony’s eyes flare for a moment. “You are?”
“Shane invited me. Do you think I shouldn’t go?”
“I can’t make that decision for you, Amy. All I can do is tell you what I know. They have members in prison right now for murder, assault, armed robbery. The list goes on and on.”
“Shane is different,” I defend stubbornly, refusing to believe he could be caught up in anything like that. “He’s a good man. He’s been good to me.”
“I’m sure he has, but these are the facts. His club is bad news, though Harlen tells me they do give back to the community too. They do charity rides, and are known for taking care of women who end up living at the club house and… seeing to the men.”
I blink at her words. “They let women stay in exchange for sex?”
Harmony shrugs. “This is what Harlen told me.”
Harlen would know, he’s in that life, though his club has been nothing but good to both July and Harmony.
I feel a little queasy. Do they use women that way? It’s abhorrent if they do.
“I didn’t want to make you doubt things.” Harmony looks anxious, so I grab her hand, squeezing it.
“You haven’t. It’s reality. They’re dangerous.” And I’m in too deep. I’m pretty sure the feelings I have for Shane are deeper than they should be at this stage in a relationship. We’re moving at warp speed and that scares me.
“I’m sorry, Amy,” Harmony says.
“Don’t be. I need to know the truth about what I’m getting into.”
“What are you going to do?”
I’m not going to the party for starters. I shrug. “I’m not sure.”
Harmony leaves a little while later and I’m left to my thoughts. I spend all my time protecting women from being victimized. I can’t be with a man who knowingly allows it to happen in his club.
I don’t get ready and I sit in my pajamas watching crappy movies. About an hour before I’m supposed to be there, I fire off a text message.
ME: I can’t make it tonight. Sorry.
About thirty seconds later a message comes through.
SHANE: Why not?
My fingers hover over the screen before I type out.
ME: It’s not a good idea.
SHANE: Why?
I don’t respond, not sure what to say to him. I slip my cell onto silent and snuggle against the cushions of the couch.
Twenty minutes later there’s a knock on my front door. Blanket wrapped around my shoulders, I make my way to it and pull it open.
Shane is leaning against the door jamb, his arm over his head. He peers down at me and his gaze crawls over my body.
“Nice jammies.”
I scowl. They’re my cutest pair. They have little cupcakes on them.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, pulling the blanket around me to hide the offending pajamas.
“Want to know why you’re standing me up.”
I sigh and step back into the house, letting him inside. I don’t really want to have this argument on the stoop, not with my nosy neighbors.
“I’m not standing you up. I sent you a message.”
He eyes me. “What’s going on?”
“Is your club dangerous?” I blurt.
His gaze doesn’t leave my face. “Yes,” he admits.
“Are… are you dangerous?”
“Yes.”
His candid response has my heart racing. “Do you make women work in your clubhouse, servicing the brothers?”
This makes him snort. “Babe, what the fuck?”
“Do you have women there who exchange sex to stay?”
He heaves a breath and I can see the truth in his face before he speaks. “There are women who stay and do fuck the brothers.”
My stomach rebels at his words.
“Ain’t forced. They chose to do it.”
“Why?”
“Ain’t no one comes to our club who’s had a good life, Amy. Usually, they’re escaping shit, looking for something they can’t find in their real life. Sometimes, they just want a walk on the wild side, but most of those women are lost. We give them a home, a purpose. No one is held hostage. They’re grown up women, making their own choices. Anyone of them can leave any time they choose and they ain’t forced to do shit. We ain’t rapists.”
There’s anger in his voice, which I ignore. “They service the brothers… They ever serviced you?”
I hold my breath as I wait for his answer, my stomach churning.
“Ain’t a monk, Amy. I’ve been with my share of women. Ain’t apologizing for that, but it doesn’t change how I feel about you either.”
“You’re a criminal,” I accuse.
He doesn’t deny it. “The club doesn’t always operate within the law, no, but it stands for something. Everyone in the Sons has the right to be who they want to, to live a life they choose. We’re all brothers, even if that’s not by blood, and that’s what I love about it. I need that feeling of belonging, babe. I was adrift after I left the army. Didn’t have a fucking clue who I was, what I needed. I was lost. Ravage found me and gave me what I needed. He gave me a home. I don’t have any other family outside of those men and I’m fucking proud to be a part of it.”
“And where do I fit into that?”
“At my side, babe. I want you at my side.”
He dips his head and kisses me. I can’t stop from melting against him. He makes my stomach somersault, makes all my fears disappear. I should run far and fast from this man. He’s a dangerous criminal, but I can’t. Because deep down, I know without Shane I’m lost. He makes me feel complete in a way I’ve never experienced.
Shane is the one for me, and nothing is going to keep us apart.
16
Whizz
It’s a few days after Amy stood me up. We’re running another fake shipment drop tonight. Omen wants to find out for sure who is playing with us, so we’ve set up a sting. He’s told a handful of brothers a different location and ordered them to keep it secret. Whichever drop is attacked will trace back to the brother he told. It’s rudimentary, but we should get to the bottom of this shit, once and for all.
Havoc is waiting in hiding at one location, Omen at another, and I’m at the third. I’d had to ride in a cage with my arm, so I’d parked in a hidden spot and am hiding out in the car. I watch the parking area, watching for any sign of movement, but it’s all quiet out here. I have no fucking idea if this will work, but Omen’s getting pretty desperate. The only brothers he trusts right now are me and Havoc. He can’t run the club like that forever. Mistrust breeds and right now we don’t trust anyone. Club only works because we have each other’s backs.
My phone pings and I pull it out. Swiping across the screen, I see a message from Omen.
OMEN: Anything yet?
I type back my response.
ME:
All quiet. Havoc?
OMEN: All quiet too.
I know what he’s worrying about. Maybe whoever is betraying us is onto us. If we’ve been busted, we’ll never figure out who the rat is. They’ll slink back off to their corner and we’ll be left wondering who is stabbing us in the back. I don’t want to imagine any of the Tennessee brothers are capable of this, but honestly, at this stage, I suspect everyone.
My phone pings again and I pull it out, expecting Omen again, but it’s Amy’s name that flashes up on the screen.
AMY: How’s your night going?
My lips tug into a smile as I read her words. Things were a little weird between us after she questioned me about the club. I understand her concerns. If I was her, I’d be worried too, but the club isn’t this big bad entity people think it is. I know the bunny issue freaked her out, but I meant everything I said. Those women aren’t here by force. They choose to be and they choose to sleep with whoever they sleep with. Ain’t my job to be the voice of morality or tell others what to do with their lives.
ME: Be better with you in it.
I split my gaze between watching the parking area and those three dots as she types her response.
AMY: I’m sorry about the other day.
ME: I get it. Promise, we’re not the bad guys, Ames. Won’t let anything bad touch you ever.
AMY: I know. When you next have a club party, I’d love to come. If the invite still stands.
ME: Absolutely.
A noise catches my attention. I quickly pocket my phone, shrouding the cab of the car in darkness and slink down in my seat as bikes appear. No one is wearing colors, so I can’t see what club they belong to. I don’t know the Fallen Demons either, but they’re definitely here to intercept the fake run we put together. Fuck. I hoped they wouldn’t show, that whoever is selling us out would change their fucking mind, but all chance of that has disappeared now. These fuckers are in the thick of what’s going on and there’s nothing we can do. Omen knows who he told about this run, he’ll gut whoever sold us out, and Havoc and I will help him.
I sit and watch them for a while, getting more and more antsy that no one’s turning up. I try to remember the face of every person here and memorize their tats, so I can report back to Omen.
It takes them an hour before they roll back out, realizing no one is coming. I wait ten minutes for them to go then text Omen, telling him to meet me back at the clubhouse.
I put the key in the ignition and start the engine.
As I drive back to the clubhouse, I keep a watch in my rear-view mirror for anyone following me, but the route stays clear. I’m on edge by the time I pull the car into the compound and cut the engine.
Omen and Havoc’s bikes are already parked outside the building, so I make my way straight to Omen’s office.
I knock once on the door before pushing inside. Omen and Havoc both glance up at me as I step inside.
“They’re a club. Came on bikes, no colors though,” I tell Omen as I explain what happened.
“Recognize anyone?”
“There was a big fucker with tats running up his neck. Shaved head, tats on his skull.”
Havoc glances at Omen. “Sounds like Dog.”
“Dog?”
“He’s the SAA for the Fallen Demons.”
“We know who it is selling us out?” I ask.
“Mac.”
I blink. “The fucking prospect?”
“Seen but never heard. Prospects overhear shit at the bar all the time. That fucker can fade into the background.”
“Fuck,” I scrub a hand over my chin. “What are we doing to him?”
“I want definitive proof before we do shit. Right now, he’s our main suspect, but I’m not stripping a man of his life until I know for sure.”
I nod. I understand that. “How do we get that proof?”
“I have an idea.”
I don’t press it. Omen would tell me if he wanted me to know. “You need anything, brother, let me know.”
I leave the office and head into the common room. Mac is behind the bar, serving drinks as usual. I keep my expression impassive, so I don’t let on I know he’s a backstabbing bastard as I slide onto the stool.
He moves away to get me a beer, like a good little prospect should, but I wonder how long he’s been in the pocket of the Fallen Demons. How long has he been selling club secrets? That power would have increased as soon as he was patched in. More shit would be spilled to him, more secrets shared and he would have been in a position to bring down the Tennessee chapter.
I hope like fuck Omen makes that treachery hurt because knowing a man we were willing to call brother has betrayed us cuts through me like an ax.
17
Amy
The knock on the door has my head snapping in that direction. It’s late, after eleven p.m. and I was just thinking about going to bed. I move to the door, my heart racing and peer through the glass at the side of the frame. Standing on my stoop is Shane.
He gives me a smile that seems laced with exhaustion as he sees me.
What the hell is he doing here so late?
I pull the latch back and open the door to him. He steps in, kicking the door shut behind him before his arms go around me. His head burrows into my neck and I quickly pull him close to me.
“Shane?”
“I need you, baby,” he murmurs, his voice laced with pain I’ve never heard before.
I can smell the beer on his breath.
“Did you drive drunk?”
“Got a cab.” The word ‘cab’ sounds strange in his thick accent.
“What’s going on?” I ask as he snuffles around the dip between my throat and shoulder, his grip on me tight.
“Told you. I need you.”
His mouth finds mine and our lips meet. I should demand answers, but I don’t want to stop kissing him. His hand latches around the back of my neck, collaring me as his tongue curls inside my mouth. I moan against him, as his other hand goes to my breast. I keep my thoughts on him, not on what happened with Hofstadter.
This is Shane. I’m safe.
He squeezes and I feel my nipples starting to pebble beneath my clothes. Anticipation starts to build in my belly, warmth seeping out of my pores as he continues to consume me, devouring my mouth like a desperate man.
He lifts me into his arms and I wrap around his neck to keep steady. His cast scrapes along my skin as he moves us into the bedroom.
I should tell him to stop, to slow down, but I don’t do anything as he lowers me onto the bed, his knee dipping the mattress at my side.
As he moves his head to claim my mouth again, I put a finger to his lips. “What’s going on?” I ask, my voice sounding huskier than I’ve ever heard it.
“Need you, Ames.”
His hand goes between my legs and my pussy pulses. My pajama bottoms do nothing to protect me from his touch. I feel everything intensely and I can’t stop from moaning as he rubs me harder.
He pushes a hand under the waistband and I feel his fingers trailing down my stomach before he’s pushing aside my panties. I nearly come off the bed when his fingers slip between the folds of my pussy.
“Shane,” I gasp, bucking my hips against him and feeling how hard he is.
“Okay?” he asks, and I nod.
I have no idea what brought him here like this, but I can’t say I’m not happy about it. He’s fired up and as he slides two fingers inside me, I can’t help but want more. I didn’t think I’d be able to be with a man like this again, but Shane makes me feel safe. I know if I asked him to stop he would, and that leaves me feeling in control of what we’re doing. It makes things easier for me to handle.
He pulls down my pajama pants, followed by my panties as I strip out of my camisole and bra, then goes between my legs. His tongue swipes me, flattening against my clit in a way that has my hips bucking. He continues to lick and finger-fuck me at the same time, his injured arm wrapping around my thighs as he darts his tongue in
to my pussy.
Fuck, I’m wet as hell and my orgasm is starting to climb with every pass of his tongue. Tingles build deep in my pelvis as he continues to bring me to climax.
When I go over the edge, I do it calling his name. He doesn’t give me chance to come down before he’s pulling a condom from his wallet. He pulls down his jeans, stepping out of them and tugs his tee over his head. I watch as he slides his boxers down his legs, freeing his cock. It’s thick, veiny and hard as a rock. My eyes stay locked on his as he rolls the condom down his shaft, then his gaze comes to me and I see the question in them.
I nod. I want this. I’m scared, but I want him so badly. I let out a shaky breath as he comes down on top of me, his cock nudging at my entrance.
His eyes meet mine as he pushes slowly inside me. For a moment, I feel panic building in my throat. Then it settles and all I can feel is him inside me, full and thick. I want him to move, but he leans down and kisses me before he thrusts his hips.
I throw my head back against the mattress, my fingers clawing at his back as he slides in and then out of me. I feel every ridge of his cock as he moves and my pussy is already starting to tighten around him.
“Fuck, you’re so tight, baby.” His voice sounds strangled as he drags back before slamming back into me. “Look at me,” he commands, and my gaze drifts toward his face.
I watch his eyes, watch his expression as he closes his eyes, biting his bottom lip. He looks beautiful, the contours of his muscles rippling with each movement and my eyes trace over the tattoos covering most of his tanned skin. I let my nails skim over him, wanting to study each one, but my thoughts are locked on the sensations starting to build between my legs again.
He’s such a good-looking man, I can hardly believe what we’re doing. He pistons his hips faster, slamming into me to the root of his cock as he moves. Every inch of my body is starting to tingle with need as my body soars higher.
