“You are so hot, Emma,” Rafe said, as he began the long, deep strokes he’d started with and pushed his hard, thick cock faster and harder into her. “We have to do this again.” He didn’t sound as steady as he huffed that out, and she was pleased that she wasn’t the only one who wanted this again. The steady thrusts became jerkier and less rhythmic, as he came with a satisfying roar. She could feel the flex and release of his cock within her, as he filled the condom. Holding on to him while he caught his breath was a very intimate thing to do, and she wondered if and when he’d pull back. However, he remained in her arms.
She wanted to tell him she wanted the same thing because it was more honest than anything she’d said or felt up to this point, but their future was so unsure. Kissing everything she could reach—his cheeks, his neck, and his mouth—was the only way she could respond to what he’d said. Emma just hoped he knew how much he meant to her, how much she’d enjoyed the time they’d spent together, and how much she wanted to utter a response to what he’d said.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Rafe had settled for dropping her off at a friend’s house near the club. The friend was also supposed to go to the meeting at the club. He wanted to drop her off where he picked her up, but he didn’t feel like fighting when his body was so well-satisfied. They had plans to talk later on that evening, so figuring out where they were going to meet was going to be another complication.
The sex they’d had on the table had been some of the hottest he’d ever had, and he had to place it on the person he was with. There was something about Emma that just got to him. They didn’t say much else after she’d held him in the aftermath of one of the best orgasms he’d ever had in his life, but it wasn’t an awkward silence, just a thoughtful one. He knew she wanted to see him again—and the feeling was very mutual. He kissed her before he put on her helmet because it would be too risky to kiss her in the Reapers’ part of town in broad daylight.
Rafe wasn’t a hiding kind of dude, but he was thinking about Emma and her safety. When he dropped her off, he had to leave her like a one-night stand. He didn’t like the idea, but he always did what he had to do.
He wasn’t one to be sneaky because it felt too much like lying—and that shit you had to remember. There were a lot of things he’d not done with Emma, and he hoped that was one of the reasons he’d been making more plans with her. The thing about Emma was that she could dish it out—and she could take it. He liked sex in lots of different ways, and it seemed like she was pretty open and available to try new things. She was also funny, sexy, sweet… and stayed on his mind when she wasn’t with him. What the hell?
As he entered the Mountain Tribesmen’s gates, he knew one thing… Emma was different than the others. When he dropped a woman off, that was usually it. They left his mind as soon as they were out of his sight, but that didn’t seem to be the case with this one. She lingered on his mind, and he couldn’t wait to get his hands, mouth, and other parts on her again. You wouldn’t know that he’d spent the greater part of the last 24 hours flirting, teasing, and fucking her.
His mind was still in hunting mode—the mode he was in when he spotted a woman he wanted to have in his bed. But, usually, that feeling left shortly after he’d rolled off them. He should have been done with the whole have-to-have her thing, but the problem was he still wanted her—badly—and he wasn’t sure what to do about that.
“What’s up, Lucky?” Tim “Firepower” Owens was working on fixing a sink under the bar and stood up when Rafe passed him. The happy-go-lucky man had always been one to volunteer for any fix-it-up jobs, so Rafe could only assume he enjoyed working with his hands.
“Not much. What’s going on here?” Rafe watched Tim shake his head and rub his hands together. That was what he did when he thought he had a funny story to tell, and Rafe couldn’t wait to hear it. If there was ever a day he needed a humorous story, it was today.
“We were all just shootin’ the shit and listening to how the Reapers were up in arms about some club girl that was missing from their first annual party they had last night.” Tim was talking it up like it was the funniest thing to ever happen, and Rafe was trying to find the humor in the situation but was coming up with nothing. It probably would have been funny if he weren’t involved.
How was that the first thing he heard when he got to his own club? Rafe hadn’t felt like he was being disrespectful while he’d spent time with Emma; but, now that he heard it from the mouth of his club mate, he wasn’t sure if he was going to cop to this or just let it ride. He’d always enjoyed being around Tim—but since Rafe wasn’t in the best of moods after hearing his situation from another perspective—he thought he’d go elsewhere.
“Oh, yeah?” Rafe moved away from the good-natured man who usually had something to make him chuckle and thought he’d find out what everyone else was up to. “Who else is here?”
“Everybody’s here. They’re sitting in the war room.” Tim still had a huge smile on his face, as he gestured to the room where everyone sat, drank, and discussed the plans for the club.
“Alright, Tim. Talk to you later.” Rafe was already backing out of the room before his sentence was complete. He could see Tim nodding and already turning to the sink, trying to figure out what was wrong.
The club was pretty clean today. The girls must have put in some overtime on the place. It usually was clean enough, but today it looked brighter. Maybe that was just the state of mind he was in, or maybe he was just looking at all the good things about the club. Nothing like thinking you messed up big enough for people to want you out for a man to start appreciating his surroundings.
He walked into the war room and was greeted like he’d returned from battle. The cheers and what’s ups made him feel like he’d not seen these men in a good long while; but, in reality, he’d seen them within days. That was one thing about the Tribesmen…they made you feel like family. Not the family you wished never came around, but the relatives you’ve waited all day to see. Someone tossed him a beer, and he continued his trek to sit in the seat he normally occupied next to their president, Aaron “Blood Thirst” O’Malley.
“What’s up, brother?” Aaron said, as he turned to him with his traditional grin in place.
What’s up with all these smiling people and why is it getting on my nerves? “Not much. What’s going on here?” Rafe settled in and got comfortable; he felt relaxed just being with his men. He was trying not to think too hard about what Emma was going to be going through today. He only hoped that all would be well until they could get together and figure it out.
“We were just hanging out. You look agitated, my friend. Anything going on?” As the leader of the biggest and most affluent motorcycle club, Aaron was a rough and tough-looking son-of-a-bitch; but, he made sure he knew all about his men. From the way they normally behaved to their idiosyncrasies, the man had a mental capacity that would shame an elephant.
Rafe sat back deeper in his seat and shook his head. Although they nicknamed Rafe “Lucky,” the nickname “Stoneface” had come up a few times, too. He never let what he was going through show on his face, but today it wasn’t as easy as it usually was. It was just one night with a beautiful, sexy, funny woman. How could that have made such a big difference on his whole demeanor? He shook his head at himself, silently chuckling on the difference a day—or in his case—a night can make.
“Now, you’re snickering to yourself. Boys?” Aaron said to all the men in the room. All the men quieted down and turned to Aaron. “What do you think is going on with Lucky?”
Good-natured laughter filled the room—along with several suggestions of what was going on with him—and for whatever reason that lifted him out of his funk. He’d heard everything from one of his women hadn’t given him any loving to he’d gotten caught going from girl-to-girl and had his ass handed to him. The reasons got more and more ridiculous, making Rafe’s smile wider and wider. However, he still wasn’t going to spill the beans.
�
�Well then, just keep all that good news to yourself.” The smile on Aaron’s face told him that he’d gotten him to do what he wanted him to, which was to relax a bit and settle down. Everyone returned to talking amongst themselves, and then his leader turned to him again. “Actually, I’m glad you got here when you did. I was going to ask you about Fat Jesus and find out when you were going to check up with him about that order. We gave the Haitians a loose date, but they are getting antsy and to tell the truth so am I. You said you thought he would come through on such a big order, and I let you run with it, but I don’t want to look like amateurs here.”
Andre “Fat Jesus” Rio, also known as Fat J., was the go-to person when you needed anything from weapons to hard-to-get drugs. They’d had a buyer who was looking for a large amount of high-powered weaponry, and Fat J. had promised he’d come through. They took a chance on him with Rafe’s word, so both of their reputations were on the line.
“I talked to him last night, and he wasn’t sure when the shipment would be coming in,” Rafe said, knowing that somehow the man would pull through—because he always had in the past. He wasn’t going to worry about it, but he did need to find out some more information.
“Where did you see him?” Aaron asked. He turned all the way toward Rafe, making him wonder if he should tell his friend and leader the happenings of last night. He didn’t know how to explain it, and he’d learned early that it was better not to go into too many details about his goings-on. He’d do what he wanted to do instead of letting someone tell him to stop; but, he’d rather not go against leadership.
“I saw him at Sparkie’s last night.” That was just enough information—not too much, not too little. It was “need to know info.” Aaron stared at Rafe like he knew something was going on, but he didn’t think he’d question him too much about it. Rafe was all about the Tribesmen and would do anything for his club. His honor and loyalty had been tested and found above par, so there was no need for Aaron to worry.
“Sparkie’s? Boys, Rafe here is still going to that off-the-beaten-path dump to eat. When we find him keeled over somewhere, we’ll know why.” Aaron and the guys always got a big kick out of him eating at the place they thought served trash, and he’d never been able to convert anyone over to be a fan—except for Emma. Damn it—there she was again. She’d now contaminated his only spot to be alone with her sexy full-figured presence. He wasn’t going to complain about that or anything else they’d done within the last hours.
The men again groaned in mock displeasure, as they told him how much they didn’t like that place and how crazy he was for eating there. Others asked him if his life insurance policy was up-to-date. Life insurance policy? Exactly who would he have gotten that for? They said it all at the same time, so it was just a symphony of voices. However, he’d already heard what each of them had to say about it individually, so he really already knew how they felt about the place.
“You still going to that dump? If they find you sprawled out in the road and can’t see another car involved I’ll just tell them you got hit with the cholesterol hammer that you willingly shove down your throat every couple days,” Big Jim yelled out from the other side of the room.
“What can I say? You boys don’t appreciate that fine cuisine like I do, but I’m not going to stress about it. That just leaves more for me.” Rafe enjoyed the back and forth ribbing. Even though he always acted like it bothered him, the truth was it reminded him of living with his foster mother, Miss Marlene. There was a group of boys that he’d had gotten to know, and they had become like real brothers.
“You’ve got that right?” Aaron said, patting Rafe on the back. “So, you saw your boy, Fat J. What did he have to say?”
“He must be unsure of when he’s going to have the merchandise—because I asked him but didn’t really get an answer. I’ll have to get back to him to solidify the details.” He would have to find a few minutes to run him down and get some answers in the next day or so—because although he wasn’t acting like he was getting stressed out, Rafe knew Aaron and his moods like the back of his hand. They’d been in the trenches together in the streets and had gone through a lot on Rafe’s way to becoming VP.
“So, you talked to Fat J., but you didn’t get an answer from him about the weapons?” Aaron looked confused, and Rafe hoped he wouldn’t ask more questions because he wasn’t going to lie to Aaron. However, he wasn’t sure he was ready to tell him the truth.
“Yep,” Rafe said, looking around the room at the group of men he’d learned to call family. They were all discussing topics among themselves, and he was proud to be their brother. The Mountain Tribesmen were a feared group of men, but they had a reputation of being fair. They didn’t use their powers to intimidate, but people knew if they crossed one of them, they’d crossed the whole bunch—and no one wanted to cross this particular bunch of cut throats. There were times certain the niceties didn’t happen, but that was just par for the course. Respect was hard earned, and everyone knew not to get on the bad side of the Tribesmen.
“Alright then,” Aaron said after a few seconds. “If you say you talked to him and didn’t get anywhere but want to try again, I’m good with that.” Aaron slapped Rafe on the back with a brotherly pat, and he moved on to the next topic. It was that easy, but somewhere in his mind the warning bell went off. He wasn’t sure what was going on with him, and he didn’t know what exactly had caused the sniggle of anxiety to start in his belly. What he did know was that feeling was not to be ignored. He would be aware of his surrounding and expect anything—because the little feeling was growing and felt like doom.
“Hey, Rafe did you hear about the fiasco over at the Reapers’ club last night.” Brian “The Bullet” pulled Rafe’s attention off of his inner strife.
“What happened?” Rafe wanted to know what they thought happened.
“Seems like the Reapers’ golden girl walked off with someone last night, and the whole group was all up in arms about it. It was that pretty redhead that they don’t seem to let out too often.” Brian could barely contain his glee. Rafe knew that the Reapers were very possessive about their club girls. Hell, so were the Tribesmen, but their rivals took it to a new level. They were probably as possessive as he felt right now, but he had a feeling he had them beat. He hoped the man didn’t say anything more about Emma because then he was going to have to explain why Brian’s teeth were on the floor.
“Is that right?” Rafe didn’t want to show too much interest, hoping it would just die down to whispered chuckles between people that didn’t include him.
“Yes. Word is they can’t figure out where she went or with who. Can you imagine the size of the balls on a guy who would just walk into one of the Reapers’ functions and swoop off one of their women?”
“Maybe she wanted to go. Did they find her?” Rafe asked.
“Last I heard they were still looking, but I bet she’ll turn up. They thought it was a prank we were playing on them, like we’re some high school social club. What the fuck?” Brian said indignantly, and Rafe shook his head at how fast Brian could shift from laughing to pissed.
Rafe turned back to Aaron. “So, anything up for tonight?”
“Nah, we just completed the deal with the Downtown Assassins and we’re just laying low until we have the product for the Haitians. I was just going to hang around here or find some trouble with one of the club girls.”
He shouldn’t be so happy that he wasn’t needed this evening, but he was. If he was smart, he would find Fat J., so he could get an answer about the product. When he’d seen him last, they were discussing the delicate situation that was going on between Emma and himself—not weaponry. He’d asked about the products, but thinking back, he’d never really received an answer. However, he also wanted to see Emma again tonight, so he’d probably wait to talk to Fat J. tomorrow.
“Sounds good,” Rafe said to Aaron who had already turned to talk to another member about something.
Aaron responded with a
nod of his head, just to let him know he’d been heard.
Rafe got up to walk to another part of the room where the comfortable couches were when Aaron grabbed onto his wrist and pulled him down towards him. “Hey, Rafe, whatever is going on with you, know that the brothers and I have your back. When you’re ready, let me know what’s going on.”
“Sure man, I will and thanks for having my back.” Rafe needed to think but was happy for the nudge of support from his leader, making him feel like whatever happened he wasn’t alone.
“Mountain Tribesmen always have your back…your front…and your sides. That’s something you never have to worry about.” The man looked at him square in the eye, and Rafe knew the man was telling him the truth and wanted him to know it. He felt that promise, and he appreciated it, especially right now. He knew that there may come a time—very shortly—when he would need to call in that assistance.
Rafe moved to another seat in the large room where he could observe all the people and take a few minutes to get his mind right. He felt at home with the soundtrack of loud boisterous voices, and he allowed his mind to get very still. This is how he solved his problems or thought out his difficulties. He sipped his beer and looked at the motley crew they called a club. The club girls weren’t here yet, so there wasn’t any food around; but, he knew that they would be showing up. The women loved to feed the men—and even though they should be bringing more healthy foods by the look of some of them, the ladies brought what the men liked, and it wasn’t salads and wheatgrass.
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