“Don’t know about you, babe, but I’m well and truly fucked. Come, let’s get some sleep now.” He pulls me so I’m spooned against him, his back to my front. A hand comes up to cup one of my breasts, and I feel his breathing slow and deepen. It’s been a heck of a long time since I slept with a man’s arms around me. I tense, waiting for the memories to come and remind me why I shouldn’t be doing this. But the lingering odour of our joining surround me, and the gentle rising and falling of his chest mean there’s no room for another man in this bed. As Wraith fills my mind and senses, giving space to no other, my body gradually relaxes I follow him into an exhausted, extremely satisfied and surprisingly dreamless sleep.
Saturday morning dawns, well, we miss the sun rising, and it’s nearer midday when Wraith eventually wakes me with another bout of glorious lovemaking, leaving my disused muscles slightly sore and my resolve to end this sorely challenged. After getting dressed, he walks beside me as I wheel myself down to the clubhouse for something to eat. He towers above me, making me remember last night’s promise to myself, to get back on my own two feet―well, one of them and a new prosthesis.
After Friday night’s party, the clubhouse looks like a bomb’s hit it. The prospects are bustling around waking bodies, picking up bottles and generally clearing up. That they do so stoically without complaint reminds me what both Hank and Wraith had told me, that to prove themselves worthy of being patched in they need to show they’ll do anything needed. I try to steer through the mess on the floor and avoid Hank’s overzealous sweeping, smiling back at him as he winks at me, knowing I’d made a friend the night before. I hear a growl from Wraith at the familiarity, and he pauses and mumbles something to the prospect before following me into the kitchen where I found none of the old ladies are around. Presumably, they’re keeping out of the way until the place is tidier.
Peg and Drummer, together with Blade and Dart are already in the kitchen, looking like they’re nursing sore heads and all with large coffee cups in their hands. Immediately the aroma makes my mouth water. Wraith barks a laugh when my eyes fixate on the coffee machine, and taking pity on me, goes to get me a much-needed dose of caffeine.
Indicating the table where his brothers are sitting, he goes over, pulls away a chair, and sits in the empty one beside the space he’s created. I take the hint and wheel myself over to him, reaching out for one of the two mugs he’s put on the table. Taking my free hand, he brings it to his lips and places a kiss on it.
Embarrassed I glance round, Peg’s smirking, the other two brothers are grinning, but Drummer looks over sharply. “You and I got to talk, brother?”
Wraith’s still got hold of my hand, and he squeezes it gently, “Yes.”
“My office – thirty minutes.”
“I’ll be there.”
As the prez marches off, Dart’s face splits into a wide grin and pumps his fist in the air, “Yes! I called it!”
Astonished I watch as the others start handing money over to him. Seeing my expression, he clarifies, “We placed bets on when you two would get together.”
As I breathe in sharply in indignation, I’ve no time to explain in my view we’re not together, because Wraith pre-empts any words coming out of my mouth when he turns to me and asks, “Hungry?”
Staring at him, seeing his face as relaxed as I’ve ever seen it, despite the meeting he’s soon to be having with his president, I realise to disillusion him in front of his brothers wouldn’t be fair. So I just nod. To be truthful, after all the activity last night and this morning, I’m starving.
He goes to get us an overfilled plate each and brings it back to the table. The food’s good, but not up to the old ladies’ standard. I suspect the poor prospects probably had to do the cooking.
When I’ve had my first rasher of bacon, downed a good part of my coffee, I glance around the table, everyone’s scoffing their food seeming not to care it’s a little under par.
“What time we leavin’ tomorrow, Peg? You got a suggestion for somewhere to stay?” Wraith speaks around a mouthful of egg.
I listen to their plans for my trip to Utah tomorrow. Apparently, there’s a fairly decent motel close by the clinic they’re taking me to which Peg has used before. But I’m stunned to find it’s a seven hundred mile trip and will take about thirteen hours to get there. I forget just how big the USA is. On the map, it’s just one state up, and we’ll be heading almost right to the north. We’ll have to leave early in the morning to get there in good time.
When we’ve finished eating, Wraith gives me a nod and stands. After he’s ascertained I’ll stay in the clubhouse to wait for him―Carmen’s just arrived so I won’t be the only woman here―the two men leave the room. I’m a bit concerned about what’s going on, having a good idea it’s me they’re going to be talking about. I just hope Wraith isn’t putting anything on the line for something I know won’t be going very far.
But he’s coming to Utah. Lowering my head into my hands, I wonder what the hell I should do. Should I end it before we leave? See if someone else would come instead? Or, asks the little devil sitting on my shoulder, should I just admit that I haven’t had enough of him just yet?
As the kitchen starts to fill, I come to a decision. I’ll be breaking my own rules by doing so, but I’m going to indulge myself, just for a few days. Surely that can’t hurt?
Chapter 17
Wraith
Entering Drummer’s office I take the seat that he’s waving to in front of his desk he’s sitting behind. My prez stares at me for a moment, tapping his fingers on the desk in front of him. I wait for him to get whatever it is off his mind.
“She ain’t from our world.”
Shaking my head, I agree with him, “Know that, Drum.”
“She ain’t a sweet butt neither.”
I nod, “Know that too.”
“So anythin’ I should know?”
Stroking my beard, I try to explain, “Don’t rightly understand what it is myself, Prez, but she’s different.” I breathe in, and take the plunge, “I want to claim her.”
He’s shaking his head, “Leavin’ aside the fact you went against my direct instructions, she’s a civilian, she don’t know anythin’ about this life.” His fingers still.
“I’ve been talking to her about it, explainin’.”
“Talkin’s one thing, livin’ it quite another.”
“Know that.” I realise I have to give him more, “She wants a gun, wants to learn how to defend herself. She doesn’t want to leave herself vulnerable to any more Busters.”
His eyes widen; her desire to be able to protect herself showing that she may be more suited to our world then he thinks.
“I’ll take responsibility for her,” I add.
“Horse got that.”
“Not anymore.”
“He know it?” Drum’s eyes narrow.
“Not yet,” I admit, “But I’ll talk to him.”
His fingers start tapping the table once more, a rhythmic drumming that might have got on my nerves had I not known it meant the prez is deep in thought. I know why he’s worried; bringing an outsider in is always risky. Despite how careful we try to be, there’s always a chance club business will be overheard, or two and two put together about some of our comings and goings, and we need to be able to trust people we have in the clubhouse. I feel Wheels is solid, but the brothers will need to be convinced of that too. Because what I’m suggesting is that she becomes a permanent fixture.
Suddenly both of Drum’s hands slap down on the desktop, “You’ve got a week. Bring it to church on Friday, and you better have somethin’ to persuade us by then.”
Not quite sure how I’m going to achieve that, but thinking maybe I’ll have the time to talk to her in Utah, I nod my head to agree. I’ll think of something. And Peg, our sergeant-at-arms, will be with us the whole time. His view will count for a lot; his role means he’s responsible for the safety of the club and its members.
Drum’s still wa
tching me intently; I gaze steadily back. “Now there’s the question of going against me. Ain’t gonna be able to let that go.”
I hold my breath; I deserve to be reprimanded. It wouldn’t be a good example to the others if he lets me get away without any form of punishment even though, apparently everyone could all see it coming. While I don’t think he’d go so far as to have my patch, I could lose my position as VP.
He makes me wait for it, then says, his lips curling knowing he’s making me suffer. “Standard fine.”
Letting the air from my lungs out as a sigh of relief, I nod my agreement, knowing I’ve how lightly he’s let me off. A fifty-dollar fine is nothing to me.
“You got everythin’ sorted for your trip?” He’s moving on.
“Peg’s dealin’ with the specifics, I’m just going along for the ride.” And one heck of a long ride it’s going to be. The kind I live for. Why would anyone be in an MC and not love the feel of the open road beneath them and the wind in their hair? Too long inside and I start to suffocate.
“And for the woman’s protection.” He reminds me to keep my mind on the job.
“Yeah, but I’m not expecting trouble. No one knows she’s with us, or about her going to Utah.”
“Always expect trouble, VP,” Drum tells me, his face twisting into a smirk. Then, he gives an imperious wave, and I’m dismissed.
He didn’t need to tell me that I’m going along to keep Wheels safe. I’ve personal reasons for doing that. So after leaving his office, I continue my original plan and walk down the corridor and knock on another door, pushing it open as soon as I get an answer. Inside there’s a desk covered in all manner of shit, empty bottle, cans, an overflowing ashtray and, in the only clear space in the middle, a couple of monitors which the occupant is gazing at intently. Using my hand to waft away the smoke that has a distinct odour of cannabis, I step inside.
“Hey, Mouse,” I greet my brother, “Any chatter about our girl?”
“Your girl,” he grins, “Couldn’t you have waited a bit? Lost me a heap of money.” Word has obviously already got round.
I don’t want to encourage him, so ignore his comment, “Just wanted to check whether there’s any need to be concerned about our trip?”
“Nah, Peg’s already asked me. It’s a bit of a risk as he had to give them her full name and details so they could get hold of her medical records from England. But I’ve checked the clinic and surprisingly their system’s reasonably secure. And someone would have to know she needs a new prosthesis at exactly this point to be checkin’ all such places. Bit of a long shot―even if I was the one doing the searchin’. And we’ve provided a decoy address as a temporary one. I’ve used a hotel in Phoenix. There’s nothing to connect her with the clubhouse. Even Peg uses his own address rather than the club one when he goes there.” Like a lot of the brothers, Peg has a home closer to the city as living in such close proximity to each other can get wearing at times. To date, I’ve not seen the need, but that might need to change now.
Mouse jerks his head towards the screen in front of him, “I’ll keep an eye on things while you’re gone. If anythin’ comes up that looks worryin’, I’ll let you know.”
Satisfied, I thank him and leave him to it. Mouse is an interesting character, half Navajo, and his grandfather was one of the Navajo code talkers in the Second World War. Reckon he’s got code in his blood.
Returning to the kitchen I’m not pleased to find there’s a definite chill to the atmosphere, and that Chrissy is hovering around Wheels.
I enter just in time to hear the club whore say, “Just stay away from my man, you feel me?”
I see red. “What the fuck?” I’m across the room in seconds, my hands taking hold of Chrissy’s shoulders and shaking her violently. “What fuckin’ garbage are you spoutin’ to my woman?”
Chrissy looks up at me, tears in her eyes. In a dramatic gesture she wipes them away, “But Wraith,” she starts in a simpering voice that grates on me like nails being scraped down a blackboard, “You and me, we…”
“How many fuckin’ times do I have to tell you? There’s no fuckin’ ‘you and me’ you stupid fucking slut,” I roar, unable to believe she ever thought there was anything between us. “There never was! We had this out yesterday. You’re a fuckin’ sweet butt.”
“But...”
She just doesn’t know when to shut the fuck up. Disgust wells up inside me as I realise my hands are still on her, and I throw her away from me, not caring she stumbles and ends up on her ass. Instead of helping her up, I lean over her, my features taut with anger as I shout right into her face, “You are nothin’ but a whore. You get me? A convenient hole. There was and never will be anything between us. Now get the fuck out of here and never, ever speak to Wheels again!”
As I’ve been shouting she’s been inching away from me, the tone of my voice, at last, getting through to her. But she has one more try, “But I love you, Wraith.”
“You don’t know the fuckin’ meanin’ of the word. Love? You love the idea of being an ol’ lady and don’t fuckin’ care whose bike it is you’re riding on.” I straighten, my hands going up and tunnelling through my hair.
“Get out, Chrissy.” It’s Heart; he must have entered sometime during the altercation. He’s standing in the doorway, his daughter, Amy with him. He’s got her turned into her body, his hands covering her ears. Crystal’s here too, and she goes straight over to Wheels, her arms encircling my girl giving her the comfort I should be.
Slowly Chrissy stands, she gives me one last pitiful look and then her gaze turns to Wheels. Although she tries to hide it I don’t miss how her expression changes in an instant to one of pure hatred, putting all my senses on high alert. She’s stupid, but not so much that she does anything other than walk straight past, pushing Heart and Amy aside as she leaves through the door.
“Fuckin’ bitch,” Heart snarls as he kneels down to make sure his daughter is okay.
Leaving him to deal with his family, I go over to Wheels. Crystal is talking to her in a low voice, but loud enough for me to hear.
“Don’t let that slut get to you, Wheels. She’s had her claws into Wraith for ages.”
I hunker down so I can look her straight in the eyes and reach for her hands and take hold of them. I answer the question she doesn’t have to voice out loud, “She ain’t for me, babe. Whatever claim she thinks she has, she’s very mistaken.”
She returns my gaze, and I can’t read anything in her eyes. Fuck, has that bitch ruined this before we even had a chance? As I look into her steel blue orbs, I haven’t a clue what she’s thinking, and then she goes and surprises the fuck out of me when she laughs.
“I’m not dense, Wraith. You’ve got a past, I’ve got a past. But as long as you’re not going to be fucking around while you’re fucking me, I couldn’t give a damn about who you’ve slept with before.”
Her strong words made me chuckle, and I let out a breath as my tension slips away, but I have to set her right, “Babe, there wasn’t any sleepin’ involved. No one’s stayed the night with me―except when I was blind drunk and wasn’t conscious to know better. I fucked the sluts. End of story.”
I expected her face to soften as she realises what an exception I made for her last night, and one which I’ll be repeating, often, if I get my way. But instead she gets a faraway look in her eyes, and once again I get a feeling of unease. Am I reading her wrong? Isn’t she in this as much as me?
But then the moment of uncertainty is gone as she makes a suggestion, “Take me back to my room?” It’s phrased as a question. She fucking winks at me and the cheeky grin accompanying it suggests she wants to stake a claim. And I’m all for that, my cock strains at my jeans clearly saying it’s up for that too.
Back in her room, we waste no time getting our clothes off; it’s a race to see who gets naked first and I end up hopping around with my pants round my ankles having forgotten to take my boots off first. Fuck, I can’t get enough of this wom
an―it’s only been a few hours since I’ve been inside her. With the club whores, I never went back for seconds without a good long gap in between, wanting variety rather than a repeat performance. But with Wheels it’s completely different. Already I suspect I’ll never want another woman again.
Before sliding inside her hot slick welcoming channel, I feel the need to justify myself, “Wheels,” I start, “Chrissy…”
“Just shut up about her and fuck me!”
She doesn’t have to tell me twice.
The rest of the day goes past much like it started, sex until we were completely drained interspersed with short forays out for food. Oh, and one trip out for me when I heard Horse return. I told him my intention to claim her and, after questioning me as though he was her father rather than her friend, he agreed that responsibility for her would pass to me. To be honest, he’d have met my fist if he’d come up with any objections. Ain’t letting anyone get in my way. Uh uh.
I simply can’t get enough of this woman, and by the time we fell asleep I’m utterly exhausted. So much so, that when after I wake her early Sunday morning – in a predictable way―I swear my balls have shrunk and are feeling sore, and a thirteen-hour bike ride doesn’t hold its usual attractions.
We set off early at five am, but even so, given the breaks we’ll need―mainly due to having to stop to fill up the bikes―will not be arriving at our destination until late in the evening. Peg’s driving the cage, the nondescript SUV we keep for such trips, and I and the prospect are on our bikes behind. Drummer’s choice of Hank made sense. I’m on my pride and joy, an FXR, the Harley citizens didn’t like the look of so wasn’t a popular model, but its sturdy frame makes handling a breeze at speed. Hank’s on his beautifully restored and heavily customised older model Night Train. Both bikes have the larger five gallon tanks which means we won’t be needing to stop quite as often. If Marsh or Spider had come along, we’d have been stopping more often, as their bikes are fitted with the smaller tanks with only just over half the range.
Turning Wheels (Satan's Devils MC #1): A Blood Brothers Spin off Page 20
