by Franca Storm
In the next breath, he hoisted me up. My legs wrapped around him instinctively and he cupped my ass. I felt his hand shifting around between us.
And then with a feral grunt, he slammed into me, his hard cock driving deep.
I choked and gasped out, “And so do you.”
His face was strained, his jaw clenched tight with the effort of holding onto his control.
“We’re kind of on a clock here, remember?” I said, gesturing with my eyes at our position against the wall of a very public corridor that anyone could walk down at any given moment.
He shook his head at me, but humor still shone in his eyes, as he said, “You know I don’t do quickies. You’ve really got me wrapped around your finger, haven’t you?”
“Don’t worry,” I said, meeting his thrusts that were growing wilder by the second. “It works both ways.”
With a growl, his mouth crashed down on mine again.
He swallowed my screams as pleasure gripped my body from his almost violent thrusts. He shifted his weight, releasing my wrists and wrapping his arms around me, holding me tight to protect me from some pretty severe bruising as he pummeled me against the wall with his cock.
The way we were fucking was so primal that my whole body was lit up. It was almost too much to handle. I was already right on the edge.
I felt him ease almost all the way out of me and shift his weight.
His eyes burned into mine. “Get ready,” he warned.
“What? Why?” I gasped, so overcome that I was barely able to draw in a full breath.
He smirked slyly. “You’ll see.”
He plunged back in deep, filling me to the hilt with his thick cock.
And I did see.
Holy crap!
He hit my G-Spot dead-on.
Over and over.
Ecstasy slammed into me. Finn clamped his hand over my mouth again just as I screamed out at the top of my lungs, unable to contain myself as my orgasm tore through me like an unstoppable violent tidal wave of pleasure. I heard Finn growl out his own pleasure as I clenched around him.
It took some time for us both to come down from it.
“Damn,” Finn said, as he gently pulled out.
A sudden realization slammed into me, one I should’ve thought about from the get-go. My gaze darted to his dick and relief flooded me. He was wearing a condom.
He fixed my top back into place, then did the same with my jeans, smiling down at me while he did and clearly reading my reaction well as he told me, “Me protecting you comes in many forms, Ashley.”
“I thought you’d… let go of your control. I thought you were right there with me in the moment, lost to it, lost to us.”
He stowed himself back inside his tactical pants as he opened his mouth to answer me.
But a loud, exaggerated throat clearing stilled us both.
A highly-sarcastic slow clap rang out next.
Finn stepped back and I turned to see Damien “Anarchy” Fowler grinning at us. “Damn, I wish I’d turned down here a few seconds earlier. Woulda caught a hell of a show, I’m sure, judging by the state of the both of you.”
I could feel my cheeks heating. Oh God. I hastily raked my fingers through my mussed-up hair and ran them over my clothes, trying to smooth them out.
Anarchy chuckled. “It’s gonna take more than that, princess.”
Finn wrapped his arm around me and tucked me against him, trying to shield me in that sweet, protective way of his. He eyeballed Anarchy. “You need something?”
Anarchy grinned and held up his hands. “Chill. I’m all for fucking about whenever the mood strikes. Danger’s pretty much a prerequisite for me actually.” He stepped up to Finn, just as bold and seemingly fearless as I remembered. I couldn’t tell whether Finn was surprised or amused, as Anarchy told him, “It isn’t about what I need. It’s about what you’re gonna need.”
Finn cocked an eyebrow. “What’s that?”
“I told Wrecker to wait on you for an hour or so, so don’t worry about Riverview. Get cleaned up and meet me in the courtyard in five minutes.”
With that, he smiled, then strode back down the corridor.
Well, that was cryptic.
21
~Wraith~
ANARCHY WHISTLED.
The kid couldn’t stop fawning over what he’d gone to great lengths to obtain for me.
My charcoal-gray Harley Davidson Softail Deluxe.
He ran his hand over the chrome. “Damn, it’s majorly tricked-out.” Awe sparked in his eyes as he asked, “You do the work yourself?”
I nodded.
“Guess it was always meant to be, huh?”
I folded my arms across my chest, regarding him shrewdly. “What’s that?”
“Becoming one of us.” He turned from the bike and walked up to me, smiling. “It’s in you, you know? That need for the ride, searching out a different kind of freedom you can’t get in the monotony of the mainstream world, the yearning to be a part of something bigger than yourself, experiencing that intense level of loyalty from a hardcore brotherhood. All that’s what being a member of a MC is all about.”
He was incredibly insightful, especially for one so young. Scott had briefed me on all the members and I knew Anarchy to be barely twenty-six years old. “Wise words.”
“For a kid, right?”
I shrugged.
“It’s all right. I get it a lot. Thing is, I’ve been on my own since I was fifteen. You grow up fast, living that kind of life.”
Yeah, Scott had mentioned that his parents had disowned him at a young age, unwilling to put up with the troublemaking, small-time criminal he’d become. But, just like with many of us, he’d merely needed a healthy outlet to nullify that self-destructive behavior. The club had been that for him. Scott and the club’s rules were the only sources of authority that he hadn’t felt the need to rebel against. A little responsibility had helped him as well. According to his profile and from the brief interaction I’d had one-on-one with him today, he was a real smart guy, very intuitive too. His role with the club was technically as an enforcer, but he delved into a lot of other areas too. Working at the garage, Wheel’s Up, was one of them. He helped the Road Captain out from time to time, had connections with parts suppliers. The kid dabbled in mechanical engineering and loved technically-skilled fields.
“I know,” I told him.
“Right, yeah. Know your story,” he said, shoving a hand through his short brown hair, his green eyes flashing with the recollection. “You joined the army real young.”
“Too young.”
He frowned.
“Being a part of that world, having access to that kind of power, it made me reckless and extremely cocky. For a long time, I really believed I was untouchable.” I took a beat, then told him, “It cost me a lot.”
I saw him taking my words in. Scott had warned me that, despite his strengths, the kid was still a definite wildcard. Normally, a guy like that wouldn’t have made it past the prospecting period. But Scott had taken the risk, believing his talents outweighed that tumultuous wild edge of his. He’d revealed that it was actually one of the reasons he’d agreed to bring me into the fold. He thought I could have a positive impact on the kid. Hell, from what I’d heard and seen so far, Anarchy was the younger version of me. And Scott didn’t want him becoming the present version of me. He had a soft spot for him and was adamant that he didn’t end up paying the high price that I had.
Uneasiness danced in Anarchy’s eyes, my words clearly impacting him. As I’d expected, though, he blew it off with a strained laugh. “Taking chances is a rite of passage for the young.”
Cocky bastard.
“As long as reason also prevails,” I returned.
He grinned. “Touché.”
“So,” I said, eyeing my bike. “How did you get your hands on it? My house was—”
“Burned to a crisp?”
“Yes.”
“Your guy did an awesome
job. There was no trace of those fuckers you killed. None.”
“He’s good at what he does.”
“Prez mentioned that. Knows Jesse just as well as you do, apparently. He said there’s no way he would’ve let your bike burn. He knew how much it meant to you.” He flashed me a self-satisfied smile. “Turns out he was right. Your boy had left it at the end of the driveway, like he knew you’d come back for it, that you’d need it.”
Fuck. He’d seen the way things were headed with me and Scott. He’d hedged his bets, figuring I’d join the Iron Kings MC and fight alongside my old friend once again.
“It was a risk going there.”
“You were gonna go back for it, weren’t you?”
“I know what I’m doing. It was a risk for you to go there. Why did you?”
“Prez wants something done, I get it done.”
Nice try. “It was more than that.”
He met my steely, invasive gaze head-on, something I’d seen very few people do. The kid had balls, that was for damned sure. “This club means a lot to me. Everything, actually. Iron Kings saved me, Spartan saved me, gave me a purpose and all that. The Rogues are a threat to all of it. And you’re the guy who can level the playing field. With you beside us, we’ve got a real shot of ending them and safeguarding everything we all care about more than anything. That’s why I did it.” He grinned. “Besides, you can’t get patched-in without a good, reliable ride. It’s a non-negotiable rule of the MC.”
All good answers.
He’d done it for the right reasons. It hadn’t been some impulsive, adrenaline-chasing act.
I nodded. “Okay.”
Scanning the garage, I took in the more than half a dozen motorcycles that were lining the shop floor.
Noticing the concern on my face, Anarchy told me, “They’re all small issues. If we were doing a quick run we’d let it slide. But we’re preparing for a goddamn war. Can’t take any risks, or have any weaknesses in our rides.”
“It’s just you and Tricks taking care of all of this?”
“We’ve also got Tyson and Matt, a couple of our prospects. I’ve sent them out for supplies. They’ve both got a mechanic background. They’re not bad.”
A roar of a motorcycle sounded outside, coming down the street. I turned to see Scott riding like a maniac. It kickstarted my adrenaline, sending my body into high-alert mode. Scott wasn’t reckless by nature. For him to be riding that way, it meant something was seriously wrong, the urgency it had sparked in him overriding his own sense of wellbeing completely.
He came to a rough stop in the parking lot that had me cringing for both him and his Harley.
He didn’t even have his helmet on.
He swung his leg over the bike and jogged over to us.
“Prez?” Anarchy spoke, coming up on my side to greet Scott. “We got a situation?”
Scott cringed as he took in the sight of the many members’ bikes in need of repair in the garage. “Fuck,” he muttered. “They know we ain’t ready. We been in a peaceable state for way too long since we drove them to ground last time. They wanna take us down before we get near our best. That’s why they did it.”
“Did what?” a voice sounded, and I looked to see Tricks joining us. He was carrying a couple of wrapped sandwiches. “Here, brother,” he said, handing one to Anarchy. “We got trouble?” he asked Scott.
Scott nodded and pulled his phone out of his pocket. He took a few seconds scrolling to something, then flipped it around and held it out for us to see. “This.”
It was a video, high-res security footage. “It’s from Ginny’s. Happened thirty minutes ago. Wrecker was manning the feeds and watched this go down.”
I focused on the footage of the bar, one of the franchises borne from Tonic. During Scott’s briefing to me. I watched as four bikes tore into the front lot and came to an abrupt stop.
“Looks like it’s closed,” I commented.
“Yeah, we’re getting around to closing them all until this is over. This just happens to be the first one we closed. Good thing, cuz there weren’t no civilians around for what went down next.”
I tensed at his words and continued watching as a guy with spiky blond hair strode up to the front windows.
“That’s Wolf, the Rogues VP,” Anarchy told me. “An out-of-control motherfucker.”
His description proved more than a little accurate when I witnessed Wolf smash his gloved fist into one of the windows. Over and over. He was like an unhinged madman.
The window finally shattered in an explosion of glass fragments.
He gestured to his three leather-clad companions, all sporting Rogue Riders cuts.
“Enforcers,” Anarchy informed me.
Wolf was the first through the window wreckage, the other three dutifully following on his heel, climbing through the open window and entering the bar.
“So, they robbed us?” Tricks asked Scott.
“No,” Scott grunted. A growl escaped him, just seconds before the fire erupted.
The guys were caught on camera again as they hightailed it back through the window, several bottles of liquor in their hands.
Wolf turned toward the camera, looking directly into it and motioned a slicing motion across his throat. He signaled the other three and they began tossing the bottles they’d nabbed into the heart of the bar. Explosion after explosion erupted, the flames raging out of control until they rose toward the camera, frying it and cutting the feed.
As static took over, Scott cursed and shut off the video, then pocketed his phone.
“They’re calling us out,” Anarchy said.
“No shit,” Scott muttered. He looked at me. “I know Knox. He ain’t gonna stop there. He’s gonna hit them all. Gonna destroy our holdings and fuck with our rep as being safe places for our patrons to hang at.”
“He wants us to take the fight to him when we aren’t ready,” I commented.
“The fucker never did like an even playing field. Always dug deep for an advantage,” Scott told us.
I turned to Tricks. What I was about to ask him was Road Captain business. He was the best bet. “The club knows where their new compound is now. I need you to confirm if Ginny’s is the closest of the chain of Iron Kings bars to them. Then, figure out the next one from there.” I eyed Scott. “You think Knox will take the easy route and do a straight run? Or, would he follow a roundabout route to throw you off?”
“He won’t care about throwing me off. He wants me to know. His goal is calling the club out and have us riding into a war we’re sure to lose by going off in a desperate rage. Straight run, for sure.”
“All right. Tricks?”
“On it,” he said, pulling out his phone. I saw him open up a map program, then he turned away to concentrate and get down to business.
“What’s your plan?” Scott asked me.
“Once we get the next location they’re gonna hit, I’m gonna ride out and head them off. Scare the fuck out of them and incapacitate their mission to hurt Iron Kings enterprises going forward.”
Scott shook his head. “Can’t protect you outside our borders, Finn.”
“I won’t need it.”
Realization flashed in his eyes. “You’re planning on going in dark.”
“Yeah.”
“What?” Anarchy asked, frowning.
Before I had the chance to explain, Scott told me, “No, Finn.” He started shaking his head, surprising me. The plan was solid, the best strategic option given the limitations and the stakes. If anyone could recognize that, it was Scott. So, why the resistance?
He pulled me off to the side away from Anarchy and Tricks, to speak privately.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“What you’re talking about doing, that kinda violence and shit, it could push you too far over the line you been fighting real hard to walk lately.”
“Look, you brought me in for this, to even the odds, so that’s what I’m going to do.”
�
��I brought you in for a lot of reasons.”
“You know what I mean and you know I’m the best bet to sort this before the attacks spiral out of control. I can sort it quietly. And you won’t be risking any more of your club brothers.”
He grasped my shoulder. “You’re one of my club brothers now. I care about you and so does my baby girl. That’s why I ain’t sending you out there to sort this shit.”
“What?”
He released me and stepped back from me, walking up to Tricks and telling him, “Get that intel to Wrecker. Gonna have him head down and speed up the shutting down of all the rest of the bars so civilians ain’t caught in the crossfire. I’ll have Deviant deal with the law and insurance issues with Ginny’s and any of the others the Rogues have hit.”
“We’re not gonna stop them, head them off, or anything?” Anarchy questioned.
“We got insurance, we got all our business here bringing in a shitload of dough. It ain’t gonna hurt us as much as the Rogues think. We gotta just swallow the insult of it for a bit. Lives matter more than business. But once we’re ready, we’ll make them pay painfully. They ain’t gonna get away with none of this. We just gotta be smart about it. We clear?”
Anarchy and Tricks nodded, agreeing without reservation.
It was clear how much faith they had in Scott’s plan of action. Well, inaction.
I wasn’t surprised by that. Scott had always been a phenomenal leader, a real natural at it.
“Good,” he said. “Tricks, head up to Wrecker at the clubhouse. Anarchy, carry on with them bikes.”
They both snapped into action and Scott rounded on me, telling me, “Know you ain’t down with this plan, but you gotta understand quick the way we do shit here. Lives come first. Protecting the brotherhood and human interests comes first. Ain’t nothing above that. We’re a family. We don’t do nothing to jeopardize that.”
“I get it and I respect that, but—”
“No.” He held up his hand, cutting me off. “Need you to get a handle on it. You’re gonna focus on shoring up our defenses here, getting the club ready to end this thing. I’ll see where you’re at once it’s time to hit the Rogues.”
“You need me for that battle. Keeping me out of it will—”
