Boss clears his throat, muttering,
“Fuck, I’m sorry, Sarge. Ignore me, I’m an asshole.”
“Won’t argue with you there, boss man,” Jump says scornfully.
Yeah, I tend to agree with Jump, but I just don’t have it in me to say as much. Because if there’s one thing life has taught me, is that it’s not fair. It’s not always about checks and balances. The pros and cons columns don’t always have to match up. In truth, life is brutal. It’s fraught with pitfalls, tests, and challenges, all of which are set to test your strength and endurance. A good deal of the time there’s no
rhyme or reason to it, it just is. A bit like Emmy’s explanation for walking out on me.
“Any idea where she could have gone?” Cash asks, albeit somewhat hesitantly.
“A few, but none I plan on checking out,” I reply, letting them know without saying as much where my head is at.
“Fucking hell,” Boss snarls. “Is it too much to ask for just one goddamned week without an epic clusterfuck blowing into town to fuck shit up?”
“At the rate Vengeance is going, yeah, I’d say it is,” Jump smirks, lightening the mood. “Hate to be the voice of reason here, but we can’t leave Emmy out there in the wind. I agree, she fucked up, but that woman is the glue that holds us together. She fixes our shit when we can’t see clear to do it ourselves. She loves our women, our kids, and us unconditionally. And fuck me, if she hasn’t suffered more than almost any other woman I know. It just doesn’t sit right with me, letting her go off on her own without, at least, one of us watching over her.”
While I can see his point of view, on this, we’re going to have to agree to disagree. Emmy made her choice, and as far as I’m concerned, it’s her move next. There’s only so much begging a man can do before he works out its time to
cut his losses.
“Want me to round up the boys and hit a few of her
usual haunts?” Cash asks Boss.
Running his hands over his face, he shakes his head.
“You guys know I love, Em, but ultimately it’s not up to us to bring her home. This isn’t club business; it’s personal. Between Sarge and his old lady.”
“Fuck that,” Jump exclaims. “If it weren’t for Emily, I wouldn’t be around to see the birth of my kid in a couple of months. Shit, I wouldn’t have been alive long enough to find one, let alone, the two loves of my life.”
“Sit the fuck down, brother,” Jump’s blood brother, Cash growls in warning.
“Eat shit, Cash. The beauty of me not being patched anymore is that I don’t have to adhere to the same bullshit rules as you guy do. So if you won’t get off your asses and bring her home; I will,” he grinds out, turning his back on us, stalking toward his bike.
Before any of us have a chance to digest his words, a long string of curses rents the air, and all eyes turn to Shade. His outburst is nothing if not uncommon for him. Of all of the guys, young and old, Shade is the quietest of the bunch. For the most part, he keeps to himself, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t fully aware of what’s going on around him. Especially, when it comes to Gemma.
I’ve seen Vengeance’s youngest member watching my daughter. His interest in her hasn’t gone unnoticed, albeit Shade’s tried to keep it under wraps. At first, Shade was
simply doing as I asked. A personal favor that would come with a marker if he could keep his activities to himself since I wasn’t ready to share with the other men as yet. However, as the weeks went on, Shade’s interest morphed from observational to curiosity. Now it’s more. Now it’s genuine old fashioned lust, and I don’t have the first fucking idea how to feel about that, so I’ve let it be. For now, at least.
Shade was the first person I let in on who Gemma is and what she means to me. Not once while I explained the little I could does Shade’s expression falter from the blank, almost cold, look he’s carefully constructed to hide his emotions.
In the beginning, I honestly thought he’d say, no. That he’d tell me to talk to Boss and get the okay before he would keep an eye on Gemma for me. Thankfully, I was wrong. Instead, Shade took this task as seriously as he would any other. He watched, followed, and listened where he could, and reported back to me every few days. Most of what he shared was simple, basic shit like where she went to lunch and with who, if she was working late and when she left; nothing of consequence to anyone else, but to me it was everything. To me, it was a way to get to know my daughter and that meant the world to me.
But apparently all that watching has come with consequences if Gemma’s reaction to Shade is anything to go by.
“You going to step in and do something about that?” Cash asks conversationally.
I thought about it for about a second before deciding to sit back and see how it plays out between them. Especially, since the one thing I’ve learned about my daughter in the short time I’ve known her is that she prefers to fight her own battles wherever possible. The last thing Gemma needs is for her old man to intervene when it’s clear she’s got the situation under control.
“What do you suggest I do? It looks like she’s handling him just fine,” I grumble, refilling my glass.
“I’d say our brother is in for a world of hurt once he finds out what the women of Vengeance are capable of,” Boss chuckles.
And he’s not wrong.
Our women are strong. Fierce. A force to be reckoned
with when they’re angry. That old adage, ‘a woman scorned’ has nothing on our women when they’re on a rampage. Honestly, I kind of feel sorry for Shade if my daughter is anything like her mother.
“So, if you’re just going to play innocent bystander, you want to explain why after pining after her for so long, you’re willing to give up on your woman so quickly?” Cash prompts without a shred of tact.
How does, fuck no, sound? Whatever does or does not happen between Emmy and me from here on out is just that; between us. So avoiding Cash’s astute gaze altogether, I nod
toward my daughter and the man trying, albeit ineffectively to handle Gemma, and suggest,
“How about we just sit back and watch the show while we enjoy our drinks and wait for the fireworks.”
“Or we could do that,” Cash mumbles in defeat when he comes to the realization he won’t be getting any more out of me tonight.
“Solid plan,” boss interjects. “How long do you give it? My money’s on eight minutes.”
“Put me down for, six,” Maddox chimes in, as he takes up residence in the chair Jump just vacated, his eyes never once leaving the scene playing out across the lot. “My old lady swears your girl will have Shade’s balls in her purse by the end of the week.”
“Lonnie’s out of her goddamned mind,” Ghost snickers. “He won’t last that long. Oh, and I’m in for ten. Shade won’t want to cave too easy in front of his brothers.”
Ghost’s assessment of the situation earns a rough chuckle from me. Clearing my throat, I hedge my bets,
“If Gemma’s anything like her mother, I give the boy five, before he folds.”
Now that everyone’s weighed in, all that’s left is to wait and see. Truthfully, I’m rooting for my girl, though.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
~ Shade ~
“Call me sexist, but the only acceptable hair between your legs is my beard.”
– Shade’s views on personal hygiene
“You cannot be serious," Gemma seethes. Her eyes may be shooting daggers at me that would wound, if not slay a lesser man, but I'm not one of them. If anything, I find the furrow of her brow and the way her nose scrunches in disgust fucking adorable.
"Oh princess, I'm deadly fucking serious," I smirk, tilting my head to take in all of the incredible body that's been driving me insane and dominating my thoughts since I last touched her.
Gemma was never a job to me, no matter what delusions she may have cooked up in that pretty little head of hers. Granted, as soon as Sarge found out about her, he tasked me with watching over he
r, but he sure as hell didn't ask me to get close enough to be able to tell you the color of her sexy as hell panties. No, that was all me.
As soon as I saw, Gemma, I was a goner. Something about her drew me to her from the second my eyes locked with her stunning blue ones. The first word out of her mouth transfixed me. The first time she smiled at me, I was hooked. But what guaranteed I wouldn't be able to stop myself from falling for her, and needing to be close to her every minute of every day was her laugh. The laugh that lit up her face, made her eyes sparkle, and pulled up her perfect, pink pouty lips was when I knew she was "It" for me.
"Now, you listen here,” she snaps. Funny thing is, that as soon as I touch her, taking her hand in mine and beginning to rub small circles across her wrist, Gemma shuts up instantly, just like I knew she would.
“No, princess, you listen. For once in your goddamned life, shut that beautiful mouth of yours and hear me out before I find something to keep it occupied,” I say quietly enough for her ears only.
I can’t help but acknowledge the twitch in my pants when Gemma’s pupils dilate, and her mouth drops open to form a perfect O. Fuck, who am I kidding? I’m half-hard and ready to ask her to drop to her knees, and she hasn’t even so much as looked at my cock yet.
When I know I’ve got her attention, I glance back over my shoulder to scan the immediate area. For what I have to say next, I don’t want nor need any eavesdroppers. My business and anything that concerns, Gemma, now or in the future, is just that; mine.
Reassured that no one is paying us any attention, I tug on her hand until she forced to take a step closer.
“Me and you and what we’re building here has nothing to do with your dad, Gem,” I say, stressing the word nothing.
I need her to know how serious I am right now, and I’m not opposed to playing dirty to get what I want, which is why I know my decision to place my mouth on the sensitive spot just below her ear will work. It’s her weakness; her kryptonite if you will. Every time I kiss her there, run my tongue over her sweet tasting flesh, it elicits a breathy moan, and this time is no different.
Turning my head slightly, I breathe hot air against her skin and speak directly into her ear.
“I get that you’re pissed, and you have the right to be. But not for long, baby. I need to you work it out of your system, and I need you to do it fast. If that means I’ve got to take you home so you can yell, scream, throw things at me, or let me fuck your brains out so you can let this go, then so be it. Whatever you choose, you get one shot at it, Princess. One chance to do your worst, but then you’ve got to let it go.”
“I don’t have to do any such thing,” she mutters indignantly, refusing to look at me.
“Oh, but you do, Gem,” I smirk. “See, here’s the thing; you and me, we’re as real as it gets. If I could, I’d claim you, right here, right now. I’d have you wearing my patch, inking my name into your gorgeous skin, and my ring on your
finger in a heartbeat if I thought I could get away with it. But I get the feeling you’re not down with that, at least, not yet, so we’ll have to improvise. That means, you need to tell me this fucking second that you’re mine, that you belong to me and only me, or I’m going to have to prove it to you. Publically and shamelessly. And I think you know just how I plan to do that, don’t you, Princess?”
Gemma’s breath leaves her in a soft huff as she finally turns and locks her gorgeous baby blues with mine.
“You wouldn’t?”
“Yes, Gem, I would,” I confirm, cracking a smile at the shock in her tone. “I would absolutely get down on my knees, strip your jeans and panties off and eat your sweet cunt until you were writhing and screaming my name. There would be no stopping me from licking up every drop of your cream until you were begging me to stop.”
“Ryker…” she murmurs, using my given name as her eyelids lower to half-mast and her nipples peak with arousal, straining the confines of her too tight tank top.
Funnily enough, it was my reaction to Gem using the name my worthless, piece of shit, alcoholic mother gave me that told me everything I need to know about the woman beside me. See, not once since the day I turned eighteen and got the fuck out of that toxic bitch’s house have I allowed anyone to call me by my given name.
At first, people just called me Dawes, a shortened version of my surname, Dawson. Everything changed after
I started prospecting for the MC three years ago and was given my road name, though. As far as I’m concerned, since the second that patch was sewn on my leather above my heart, Shade was and is who I am, and no one had my permission to call me anything but. Until Gemma, that is.
The second Gemma sighed my name after I kissed her breathless for the first time, it felt like coming home. The memories of the bitch I called mom’s belt no longer affected me the way they had. The visions of her screaming my name as she chased after me down a dark hallway with her claws out, ready to strike didn’t bombard me the way they usually did, causing fear slowly creep in and overtake my thoughts. Instead, Gem’s sweet voice, cooing my name brought me peace – something I never thought I would have, nor that I deserved.
Running my nose up the smooth column of her neck, inhaling her scent and embedding it to memory, I groan,
“Fuck, you smell good, Princess. If I could bottle that smell and carry it with me, I would in a heartbeat.”
Something else that should have signaled Gemma was different from all the rest of the women I’ve taken to bed since I started having sex at the age of fourteen is how much I want to give her sweet words and romantic gestures. Shit, I’ve never even considered doing with anyone else.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a complete asshole. I don’t take chicks home, fuck them, and kick their asses out straight after. Okay, so maybe I did, but can you blame me? Those women came onto me. They sought me out,
practically begged me to fuck them wherever, however, and whenever I wanted. So of course, I did what any man in my position would have done, and gave them what they were asking for.
However, in my defense, those women knew the drill before I gave them my dick. I didn’t lead them on, make false promises to call or make plans to date after we fucked. Nothing about how hard and rough I took them, only ever from behind said I was the kind of guy you took home to your parents or capable of more than a one-night stand. Hence, they agreed to my rules – it was a one-time deal, I didn’t kiss, and I’d only take them on their hands and knees – or they didn’t get the little I could give them.
In saying all that, though, not once have I ever left a woman unsatisfied. All of them left with smiles on their faces after coming a minimum of twice on my cock. Hey, I can be a gentleman you know. And the way I see it, it’s only fair. I use them, so they should at least get something out of the deal.
Gemma’s small hands pushing against my chest snaps me out of my reverie, as I stare down into her confused, slightly irritated eyes.
“You need to back off, Ryker, because I need time to think. Having you so close all the time isn’t helping. In fact, it’s making things worse. No,” she snaps when I growl at her. “Don’t start that alpha male bullshit all the men around here seem to major in. I just need time to process everything, surely you get that. I mean, in one week I’ve found out that for all intents and purposes, I have a mom and a dad when
before that I had no one. My roommate bailed on me, leaving me with her half of the mortgage and utilities to cover. Not to mention, the man I came to care about over the last few months has been fucking playing me for our entire make-believe relationship. Because you know that’s how it feels now, right? Like everything you said and did was just some kind of sick game for you.”
As I go to speak, Gemma throws her hand up and cuts me off.
“No, don’t even pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. What? Did you think after hanging around the clubhouse I wouldn’t hear all about your usual type? The women you fuck and forget like last night’s trash are a dime a
dozen, and to make matters worse, there are at least four women here tonight that you’ve had your dick in more times than there are months in the year.”
“Come on, Gem, it’s not like that,” I protest, knowing damn well it is exactly as she described.
Scoffing, Gemma throws her head back and laughs. Not her usually bright, cheerful laugh, but a darker more morose one.
“Give me a break, Ryker, or should I be calling you, Shade like everyone else does?”
I can’t deny it, that fucking burns. Hearing my road name out of Gemma’s sweet mouth is like acid burning through my gut, inflicting maximum damage in its wake. But again, I don’t get a chance to interrupt because she’s not done yet.
“It may have escaped you since in the time we’ve spent together most of it has been spent fooling around, not talking, but I’m not stupid. The moment I met you, I knew what I was getting myself into when I agreed to go out with you, but I was just crazy enough to convince myself to give you a chance.”
Sarge: Book 8 in the Vengeance MC series Page 17
