“You mean home?”
His remark had her tensing a little then relaxing. Relaxing because it pleased her he thought of the clubhouse as home. Tensing because for so long she’d wanted out of the clubhouse, that it seemed incredible she’d found a mate who was quite happy to stay where they were.
But, how could she complain?
“Yeah. I mean home.”
Chapter 10
As Spyder thrust into her, Jessie let out a low moan. His fingers had played with her clit, nuzzling the little button with the tips of the digits as he brought her to wakefulness. When they’d slid down to her gate, and had tested her readiness, she’d only just opened her eyes.
On a long, slow thrust, she blinked dazedly as he carried on caressing her clit as he pumped into her from behind.
Curled into him, his front to her back, she could stare out through the window, let herself be bathed in the moon’s glow. Instead, her gaze was dazed, almost blurry as the hazy line between sleep and wakefulness was breached with each shallow thrust of his shaft.
It was the play of his fingers that had everything inside her tensing, and he chuckled huskily in her ear. “Like that, do you, baby?”
She moaned again. “How could I not?” she replied, her tone almost drugged with the unexpected pleasure he was making her feel.
He propped his chin on her shoulder and nipped at her throat. She groaned and arched her neck, granting him more access to the tender line. When his fingers simultaneously pinched her clit and bit at her throat again, she let out a muted yelp.
When he chuckled again, she narrowed her eyes and clenched down, hard on him. His long, slow hiss had her lips twitching in amusement.
“Witch,” he murmured on a groan as she fluttered her muscles about him.
“Better than bitch,” she informed him around a deep moan as her teasing backfired and affected her.
She sucked in a deep breath as pleasure engulfed her. It was almost suffocating the way it neared. Like a blanket of glory was being held over her face, until all she could inhale was that. Ecstasy-soaked air that seemed to be free from oxygen, because no matter how hard she gulped it down, it didn’t seem to hit her lungs.
Before she could panic, Spyder grabbed her leg and hooked it back over his thigh. The position opened her up, and the cool chill of the pre-dawn morning seemed to drift over her exposed pussy.
Before she could do little more than whimper, he slid a finger down from where he’d been toying with her. Circling her clit before he left for ventures new, he reached the place where they were joined and gently delved the tip of the digit above his shaft.
Inexperience made her small, and he was a tight fit without the addition of his finger there. Still, she persevered, relieved when his ministrations seemed to jolt her out of that pleasure haze and let her breathe normally again.
As he lodged his finger in, a feat only manageable because they were on their sides, he curled it up and began to rock his hips, harder this time.
Each thrust of his shaft nudged his finger, and as the tip raked against the fore wall of her cunt, it triggered a reaction that was almost distressing in its power.
A mewl escaped her as he continued thrusting hard into her, jerking nerves into wakening that had never before been touched.
When it hit, it hit with a bang. That sense of suffocation hit her once more, where air didn’t seem to be able to get into her lungs easily because her body’s systems were so intrinsically focused on the approaching climax. It wasn’t interested in anything so petty as air.
She reached back with one arm and curled her hand about his neck. Holding him close, she gloried in his possession of her as he dragged her to the precipice, then with another nip to her throat, pushed her over the edge.
It was almost a wail that released from her lips, but she didn’t care. Didn’t give a damn if anyone heard. The power of what he gifted her was so intense, so insane in its strength, she felt her entire body trembling with its enormity.
She sucked in a sharp breath as her lungs finally came back online, but she released it in long panting breaths as her frazzled nerves danced a sharp jig in response to his continued thrusts.
When he froze, then began to rock harder only to freeze again, she moaned in delight as he filled her with his cum. Pumping his seed into her, marking her from the inside out.
He pulled his finger away from her pussy and pressed his hand to her belly. He kept her close as he pumped into her a few more times, not stopping until he’d wrangled every ounce of pleasure out of the moment.
Their panting breaths were like a sensual song that wrapped them both up in its sweet embrace.
He curled his arm tighter about her and clamped her to his front.
“What brought that about?” she asked softly, closing her eyes as she settled into the pillow.
“Bad dream,” he told her gruffly after long moments had passed; moments in which she’d almost fallen asleep.
Her eyes popped open at that. The way he said it had her tensing with unease. “What kind of dream?” she asked carefully.
“A stupid one,” he admitted on a sigh as he burrowed his face into her hair.
The fact he was hiding from her, even if it was unintentional, put her on red alert. Aware she had to treat this situation carefully, she asked, “Is it to do with leaving the MC today?”
He’d been quiet all day after they’d returned from his old clubhouse, and she’d left him to it, content for him to deal with the separation in his own way and in his own time. If that meant puttering around the workshop with Sammy, then that was fine by her. It also made him look good in her dad’s books which was never a bad thing. Sammy had a gift with bikes and all things engine, but Spyder was no slouch either. Mundo was impressed with his capabilities too, and she knew that he only refrained from complimenting him because Sammy’s genius was like a glowing star in the garage when the kid was at work.
She kind of liked the idea of the brothers being able to work together. Especially if it was what they wanted.
Because Spyder was a guy, and now Mars knew his gift from the Goddess was strength—strength enough to protect Jessie and keep her safe—that opened up a lot of doors for him in the MC. He’d pretty much be able to decide the whereabouts of where he worked for The Nomads so long as he had the skillset to back up the job.
For herself, it was another matter entirely. She had retail or admin to choose from.
Jessie liked neither.
Truth was, back when she’d hoped for freedom, she’d thought to go back to college and get a teaching degree.
Unmated, that would never have happened, but now her father had no say in her life, she could.
Tension filled her, of a different variety to what had coursed through her moments before.
The prospect of actually fulfilling a life’s dream was enough to have tears burn her eyes, and then, Spyder brought it all crashing down as he whispered, “It’s a stupid nightmare I get when things are unsettled.”
“But things are settled. You’re out of the MC. Sammy’s out of jail and he’s here and happy. We’re together and bound. What more could we ask for?”
“For Martinez to call?” It was disconcerting to say the least that, though Joe had called them and confirmed he’d passed on the message and that the Cartel leader had been overheard calling his family to ask for confirmation of the total withdrawal of funds from the account, he’d yet to get in touch with the MC.
What that meant, no one knew. And they weren’t willing to hazard a guess, either.
They knew Martinez was quite willing to hold a grudge for a very long time, so they were unsure if the bastard was just waiting for another chance at revenge. Or, it could simply have been that he’d taken the loss on the chin. Accepted it for what it was. A move on a chessboard that cleared half his pieces from the battle.
Maybe it was crazy, but Jessie wasn’t overly concerned. Apparently, Spyder was.
“There’s no
predicting his next move, Devon. Don’t let it worry you. There’s no point.”
He shook his head. “I’m not. It’s not. I can’t say it doesn’t pop into my head every now and then, but it’s not at the forefront of my mind.”
“Just at the back of it?” she murmured shrewdly. “What kind of dream is it?”
“A stupid one I used to have when I was a kid. That last time, when I was hospitalized...” He cleared his throat. “I used to dream that my father didn’t manage to come for me. That my mom got hold of me again. It’s stupid. But I always get it when things are up in the air.”
Inside, she froze at his words. The need to make his mom pay for what she’d done to Jessie’s mate was a need she feared would never disappear, and yet, there was no way to rid the need; to purge it from her system.
The woman was dead. Jessie just wished she’d had a hand in the bitch’s passing.
She wanted to claw his mother’s eyes out for daring to hurt her mate, and instead, had to clear her throat and whisper, “Feel free to wake me up that way if you have the dream again.”
He snickered. “You’ll sacrifice yourself, huh?”
“Yep. I bestow upon thee the offering of my body.”
He squeezed her, hugging her tighter to his frame. “And what an offering.” He blew out a breath that warmed her throat with the light caress. “I was lucky the day I found you.”
“What? I wasn’t too?” She scoffed. “That’s the joy of the mate bond. Luck runs both ways.” She hesitated a second, then blurted out, “Do you mind giving up your MC?”
“Not at all. I took over because the guys expected it of me when my dad passed away. I never really wanted to be Prez, but I’d watched my dad and had been his VP when the old one died.” He shrugged. “It was natural.”
“Did your dad do more than pull apart cars?”
He nodded. “Drugs. Used to get a car and stack the empty spaces in the bodywork with drugs, then cross state lines with it. He stopped that though when I was around twenty-one and Sammy hit ten. You already know we don’t have the same mom, and his died in a shooting at the clubhouse.” He pressed his nose into her hair. “Rival MC got pissed about us accidentally going into their territory with some product.” He shuddered. “It changed him. He was never quite the same after Lynn died.”
“Holy crap. She died in a shooting?”
“Yeah. Sammy derailed after that. Remember I said he was stubborn?” When she nodded, he admitted, “Let’s say on a scale of one to five, with five being difficult, that his troubles at school were around a two. He didn’t like being there, but he could pretty much cope with the workload. When Lynn died, his troubles sank to four and at some points, rose to five.” He shook his head at the memory.
“Psychosomatic?”
“Kind of. My dad was pulling his hair out because the school was barging into our business all the time. Threatening to pull him into welfare if we didn’t straighten Sammy out and get him to learn again.” He snorted. “Like you can make any kid do that. Never mind one with the sheer staying power my little brother has.” He held her tighter to his chest as he shuffled about on the bed. “Sometimes, he stuns me with how innocent he is. Then he reminds me that whatever is going on in his crazy head, he’s still a twenty-three year old guy.”
She laughed at that because he sounded so rueful, she couldn’t not ask, “What did he say?”
“When you and Ava were talking earlier. In the workshop?”
“I know when you mean.”
“Well, you were sitting there, swinging your legs, and Ava had bent over the table and was kind of leaning toward you... He said he’d have banged you both in the workshop. If you hadn’t been Claimed already, of course.”
She laughed. “He said that?”
“Yeah. He did. It’s exactly how he is. Innocent enough not to think it wouldn’t piss me off at the idea of my bro wanting to bang my woman. Adult enough to see two hot chicks together and immediately picture a three way.”
More laughter trickled from her. “I’ll make sure I’m not cornered in a dark room with him.”
He snorted. “Yeah. He might drool so much, you’d drown in it.”
“That’s gross,” she complained, wriggling in his hold so she could turn around and stare into his face.
He grinned. “Good. My brother and sex with you should only be thought of as gross.”
She snorted. “Of course.” She lifted a hand and cupped his cheek. “There is no cheating in the mate bond. There’s no need for anyone else.” Jessie’s smile was slow. “You can feel that, right?”
“Of course.” Then he shook his head. “In fact, there’s no ‘of course’ about it. This mate bond is insane,” he said on a chuckle. “Wonderful, but insane.” He reached over and pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose.
She smiled and settled deeper into his embrace. They fell quiet and after a few moments, she whispered, “I love you, Devon.”
He sighed, but sounded utterly content. “And I love you, Jessie.” He kissed her on the temple. “All will be well.”
She smiled. “I know it will.”
And it would. She knew it like she knew she belonged to The Nomads MC.
No matter how far she ran, she would always know that her soul was with this Clan, and now she’d found a male who could accept that side of her, and who would allow her to flourish among her own people.
There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that Spyder would do what he could to help her go to college. He wanted her to be happy. Just like she wanted that for him.
The Clan was a suffocating place. It was cloistered and so tight-knit it could make a person want to scream, and yet, it brought with it a security that was without compare.
Martinez would respond to their move. He’d either retaliate or they’d reach an impasse.
Within the upcoming weeks, Ava would do her best to tuck Savannah, Joe’s pup, into the Clan’s fold.
And at some point, her wayward brothers would return either with or without the embezzled funds some idiot had tried to steal from the family company.
Each day brought with it new strife, another puzzle in need of solving. But as the old adage went, “a problem shared, was a problem halved.” And where The Nomads MC was concerned, that problem was split so many ways, it ceased to be a problem. Period.
That was the power of the Clan.
That was the power of her family.
FIN
Keep reading for a sneak peak at the next book, JARVIS!
JARVIS Chapter 1
“As I live and breathe, it’s Jarvis Hayward.”
The breathy voice had every single part of him jolting upright to attention. He turned away from the kid he was talking to, a boy by the name of David who was suffering with some heavy PTSD thanks to an abusive uncle, in search of the owner of that voice.
When his eyes fell on her, everything that had narrowed down with ecstasy flared to life again.
“Cinda,” he said cordially. “What are you doing here? I thought you had some fancy post up in Boston.”
Jarvis was on the Council of an MC, The Nomads, and one of his brothers, a fellow Council member, was the unlucky sibling of the bitch in front of him.
Mundo and Cinda were night and day. Mundo joked around and was capable of having a laugh. Cinda was always serious.
She’d gone into investigative journalism a hell of a long time ago, and had stayed in the field which had had her ping-ponging all over the States.
Jarvis considered himself to be cool under fire, to have an even temper. These beliefs were shot down in flames whenever this female was around.
It was like the Goddesses had tailor made her to push every single one of his buttons.
“I was. Until I transferred.”
He snorted. “Transferred or pushed?”
Her eyes widened with irritation. “Mundo needs to learn to keep his big trap shut.”
“The day you manage to achieve that is the day you also f
ind the solution for world peace.” He pursed his lips. “Give me a second. That is,” he started, tilting his head to the side. “If you’re here for me.”
She nodded. Once.
He turned from her and back to David. Rather than loom over the kid the way he had, he took a second to sit opposite him.
About twenty years ago, when loneliness had kicked him square between the balls, he’d opened a kind of youth shelter. It was an odd choice for a Bear Shifter and MC rider to make, he guessed, but when a dude had a calling, he had a calling.
Few of his brothers had known about the shelter. Maybe only one or two and their mates. Until recently.
He hadn’t gotten too much shit over it yet, but there was still time.
The main room was loaded mostly with mismatching tables and chairs. This was where the homeless kids came to eat. There was another room for hanging out, but it went mostly unused. He couldn’t blame the kids for staying in here. Food made this room a beacon.
Sitting down heavily, he asked, “David, why don’t you go to the clinic’s doctor?”
He funded the shelter with his own money, but some of the expenses were covered via donations. Toni, a brother’s mate, was a doctor. Of the five in the MC who’d known about the shelter, she’d been one of them.
“What? So they can dope me up with drugs? I ain’t no addict, Jarvis. You know that.”
The kid was filthy. Top to toe. He refused to use the showers on site, and wouldn’t even look through the piles of donated clothes.
He had serious mental health issues that weren’t being addressed, and Jarvis felt like shit because he knew he wasn’t doing right by the boy.
Running his hand through his hair and massaging his head a little didn’t beat off any of his frustration. “I never said you were an addict,” he murmured carefully. “But you know Toni. You’ve seen her. She’s nice. She can help.”
“I don’t need no help, Jarvis. I’m fine.”
Knowing he’d pushed David too far today, and hating that he couldn’t do more, he said, “Okay, Dave. You know I only push because I give a shit, right?”
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