by Celia Loren
He breaks away from my mouth and slowly kisses down my neck, bringing a hand down to my breast. I gasp as I feel my nipples harden against his rough palm. He pinches one nipple between his thumb and pointer finger as he lowers his mouth to my other breast. I cry out as he works both nipples with his mouth and fingers.
He continues his movement down south, trailing kisses over my stomach, circling my belly button playfully with his tongue. I feel an aching sensation between my legs as he tantalizes me, moving painfully slowly down to my crotch. He picks his head up and blows softly on my clit. I cry out as my hips lift off the bed of their own accord. He places his hands on my hips and pushes me back down onto the bed, spreading my thighs further apart. I have to bend my knees and he moves his palms along my inner thighs, forcing me to keep them open. I feel completely vulnerable, totally exposed to him. And I love it.
He dips his head and takes a long, slow lick of me. As his tongue brushes against my clit, a low moan escapes my throat. He repeats the motion, going slowly, refusing to let me come yet. I whimper, as he licks me, all this built up pleasure is almost too much to bear.
“Please, Drifter, please,” I moan.
“Please what?” he growls, relenting for a moment.
“Let me come,” I plead.
“Good girl, asking nicely,” he smiles.
I grin as he bears down on my clit, circling it with his tongue. I cry out gratefully as he presses inside me with two strong fingers. I come at once, my hips bucking as I lose control. I hear him open a condom, and then he’s back above me—balancing on his elbows. He leans down and presses his mouth to mine. I can taste my desire on his lips as he lowers his hips to mine. I feel his cock splitting me open, and I moan as he pushes inside me, filling me up. He takes my arms, pinning them up over my head.
He draws back until only the tip of his cock is in me, then slides powerfully inside me again. I can see by the muscles tensing in his jaw that he is working hard to restrain himself. I wrap my legs around his back and pull him in sharply, forcing him to move faster. I see desire swell in him as his gaze locks with mine. He pulls out again and slams into me hard. He’s done teasing me, that much is for sure.
I feel like my body is levitating off the bed as I push my hips up as hard as I can to meet his thrusts. He begins to groan and his cries turn me on even more. I come a second time with a loud moan and he follows me a moment after, finishing inside me with three more powerful strokes. He collapses on top of me and I wrap my arms around his back. His full weight presses on top of me but it feels comforting, not crushing. I nuzzle into his neck and kiss him softly, tasting the saltiness of his sweat. He goes to tuck a stray piece of hair behind my ear, and his attention is snagged by the alarm clock.
“Shit,” he says. The clock reads 9:12. “It’s late. I better go get Kalb. Meet you outside?” He disentangles himself from my legs and stands up, pulling on his clothes.
“Meet you outside,” I confirm with a smile, glad to have this little ritual of walking Kalb.
He heads down the hall, and I stretch out languorously in bed. I hear Drifter and Kalb walking by the door a second later. I stand up and pull on my jeans and a t-shirt, grab my tooth brush and make my way to the bathroom.
I stand at the sink brushing my teeth and think of how to do something with the just-fucked hairdo I’ve got going on. I look up as Cherish walks in and smile at her awkwardly with the tooth brush still in my mouth. She’s got her makeup bag with her and places it on the next sink.
“I recognize that look,” she says with a wry smile.
“Sorry?” I reply, spitting out some toothpaste in the sink.
“Messy hair, happy glow...just be careful, OK?”
“What do you mean?” I ask with a frown.
“Sorry...I shouldn’t have said that,” she says, turning away from me and wiping some concealer under her eyes.
“No, it’s OK...” I prod her.
“It’s just, I heard some of the guys talking the other night. Apparently there’s some money missing, and since you’re sort of an outsider, they’re just...they’re a little suspicious, you know?”
I nod, feeling cold inside.
“They were saying that someone needs to keep a close eye on you, or something,” she continues. “Look, I know we didn’t start off on the right foot, but I more than anyone know how these guys can use you. They tell you they love you, but only when they want something. We girls need to stick together.” She takes my hand and gives it a squeeze.
“Yeah, yeah, you’re right. Thanks, Cherish.” I give her a thin-lipped smile.
“You going to be OK?” she asks, studying my expression with concern.
“Oh, yeah, don’t worry about me,” I tell her. “I’ll see you at breakfast.”
I go back into my bedroom and shut the door. How could the brothers think I would steal from them? Does Drifter think that? I walk to my window and look out into the backyard. I see Drifter standing outside with Kalb, looking toward the kitchen door, waiting for me. Is he just getting close to me to keep an eye on me? God, it’s not like I made it hard for him. I’ve known him for two weeks and already I’ve let him into my head and my heart. I stand at the window watching as he finally turns and starts walking around the edge of the property with Kalb.
I take a deep breath and go down to the kitchen. Stephanie is already buzzing around the stove making eggs, bless her heart.
“Hey!” she says, looking up. “Hope it’s OK with you, I saw it was getting late so I got everything started.”
“No, that’s awesome! Thank you so much,” I say as I start gathering silverware to set the table.
“You OK?” she asks, glancing at my face.
“Yeah, no, I’m fine,” I say quickly, “I just...is it true there’s some money missing from the club?”
“Yeah,” she says grimly. “Twitch is really worried about it. He’s afraid they’re going to blame him. He says it’s some kind of virus, or someone’s hacked in or something—I don’t really understand it.”
“So, some hacker is stealing from the club?” I ask.
“Well, sort of,” Stephanie sighs, “Twitch said that the virus thing had to be uploaded directly onto the club’s servers, which can only be accessed from inside the club.”
“Shit,” I say, grasping the seriousness of the situation.
“Violet,” Stephanie says, reading my expression correctly. “Don’t worry. I know it’s not you.”
“Thanks,” I say with a grim smile. “It’s just everyone else I’m worried about.”
I set the table quickly, wanting to get out of sight before Drifter comes back. But no such luck. The main door swings open as I’m laying out the napkins. Kalb runs in toward me, tail wagging, while Drifter stops in the doorway, frowning.
“What happened, I thought—” he breaks off as Tag steps in behind him, slapping him on the back.
“Hey, brother. How’s your house coming along?” he asks, and I take the opportunity to scurry back into the kitchen.
I keep my head down as I help Stephanie carry the platters of food into the lounge. She’s becoming quite the cook, I don’t think there’s that much more I can teach her. She’ll certainly be a valuable asset to Twitch and the club. We eat our breakfasts quietly together in the kitchen. If Stephanie can sense that something else is bothering me, she doesn’t ask, though I see her glancing sidelong at me occasionally.
After we clean up, Stephanie heads off to work as I go down to the basement to throw a load into the wash. I’m tossing some darks in when I hear footsteps behind me.
“What’s wrong?” Drifter asks, a worried crease between his eyebrows.
“Nothing,” I answer lightly
“Bullshit,” he says. I measure detergent out in the container’s lid. “I can wait all day,” he adds.
“Did you come down here to keep an eye on me?” I ask, turning the knob on the washer to cold.
“What does that mean?” he demands
“Are you fucking kidding me?” he replies, eyes lighting up with anger, and I take a step back apprehensively. “I talk to you because I fucking love you. I told you that last night and you haven’t said word one about it, and now you’re questioning me?”
“Am I the only girl here you’ve said that to?” I demand. He stares back at me, looking wounded. “Well?”
“No, but...this is different,” he tells me, “What’s between us—I thought you felt the same way.”
His acknowledgement of what Cherish said hits me like a punch in the gut. My pain turns to anger and I just want to hurt him back.
“Sorry, I love my husband. I thought you knew that,” I say calmly. “As soon as the Devil’s Army is made a support club, I’m out of here.”
We face off for a moment, staring each other down. Then he turns on his heel and leaves without a word.
I stab my finger at the washer, turning it on. I sink to the floor and lean against it as it begins to rumble and vibrate. I close my eyes and think about Scout. I wish he were here with me. Hot tears begin to slide down my cheeks. Drifter seemed genuinely hurt when I accused him of getting close to me just to keep tabs on me. I wipe my cheeks and go back upstairs to get started on lunch.
I move mechanically through the lunch preparations, deciding to make a difficult recipe to keep my mind busy and off Drifter. Thankfully, I don’t see him at lunch and don’t have to explain my weird mood to Stephanie because she’s still at work. I decide to clean the floor in the lounge before I get started on dinner. I pull my hair back and get on my hands and knees to scrub every last mark off the tile floor. Then I cover the grout in bleach and scrub that off, and before I know it a few hours have passed. I pick up all my cleaning supplies and bring them back to the basement.
I start on a spicy beef chili that has to simmer for a while, then take the clothes out of the dryer and fold them before bringing them upstairs and passing them out, room by room. I stop in Drifter’s room and lay a couple of his t-shirts on his dresser, then run my hand over the black comforter on his bed. We were so close just this morning, how did things get so complicated so fast?
As the brothers start filing in for dinner, I place the vat of chili in the middle of the table. I add a big serving spoon so the brothers can help themselves, looking around furtively for Drifter. But I still don’t see him. I grate some extra cheddar cheese into a small bowl and bring it into the lounge.
“Thanks, Violet!” Crow calls out, and I smile at him. He certainly doesn’t seem to think I’m a thief. I wonder if the club’s higher-ups have told all the brothers about the missing money yet, though.
“So where’d Drifter take her?” I hear Hollywood ask as I’m stepping back into the kitchen. I pause with the door slightly open. What did he just say?
“That place Harrington’s on Cordis Street,” someone answers.
“Oh hey, that’s a nice restaurant. I bet he’s finally asking her to become his old lady,” Hollywood muses. My stomach drops through the floor.
“No way, man,” Crow says, shaking his head.
“Hey, Cherish is hot. I wouldn’t kick her out of bed. And I haven’t,” Hollywood says. His pronouncement is greeted with a chorus of laughter.
I close the door and shove my hands through my hair. Fuck. Fuck! I blew my chance with him, and now he’s moving on. A rush of emotions surges through me: anger, sadness, guilt. But also determination. It’s time to throw caution to the wind.
Twitch enters from outside through the back door, running late for dinner.
“Hey, Twitch, do you know how to get to that place Harrington’s?” I ask, feigning innocence. He raises his eyebrows slightly and I rush to continue, “Cherish was telling me she wanted to go there, but she wasn’t sure where it was.”
Seemingly satisfied with this explanation, Twitch responds, “Oh, it’s on Cordis. You just take a left out of the clubhouse, and you’ll hit Cordis after a couple miles, and you take another right, and Harrington’s will be on your left. But—”
“Great, thanks Twitch!” I say with a smile. I dodge quickly past him out the back door and around the corner where all the bikes are parked. I choose the smallest one, which probably belongs to Twitch, come to think of it. I silently apologize to him as I wheel it away from the building and down the paved driveway.
When I’m about fifty feet away and my arms are exhausted from pushing the heavy, unwieldy bike, I hop on and start it. I twist the throttle tentatively, getting a feel for the bike, then drive it slowly down to the gates so I don’t make too much noise. Once I’m at the gates, I take a deep breath and gun it. The bike leaps forward and I fly across the invisible electronic barrier that I haven’t passed in weeks.
The wind catches my hair and blows it back behind me. I switch on the headlight and lean forward. If the restaurant is only a few miles away, I bet I can make it before they catch up with me.
I can’t believe Drifter. He called me out for not telling him I loved him, but has the fucking gall to ask Cherish out that very same day?! I am going to go there and give him a piece of my mind. Interrupt their fancy-ass dinner. Barge in there and throw a drink in his face—that’s what I’ll do. Beneath my anger and jealousy, my heart throbs. I’m far more upset at the idea of him being lost to me than the notion of them together.
But what if he’s already asked her? My single-minded anger gives way entirely to sadness. What if I get there, and they laugh at me? The stupid girl who thought a man like Drifter could love her. I swallow hard as I realize the pain I’m feeling right now is because I do love him. I love him so much, and he is out there with someone else. That’s what hurts most of all.
Just as this realization washes over me, I see headlights flash in my side mirrors, and the roar of bikes quickly catching up with me. Shit. Shit. What was I thinking? The consequences of my actions start to occur to me as I slow my bike down. The headlights draw closer as a pack of six bikers surrounds me.
Tag pulls next to me, a stern look on his face. With a flick of his head, he indicates that I’m to go with them to the clubhouse. I nod, resigned, and we pull a u-turn in the middle of the road. The bikers forming a phalanx around me as we go. We drive back to the clubhouse, and I’m thankful for the roar of the bikes that makes speaking impossible. From the grim expressions on their faces, I can tell I don’t want to hear what the brothers have to say to me right now.
I see the lights of the clubhouse on top of the hill as we pull up the long driveway. We pull up to the building, and I cut the engine, hopping off. Twitch is waiting by the main door and protectively pulls his bike away from me.
“Upstairs,” Tag commands me, and I wilt under the angry stares of the Sons— the men that I’ve come to think of as my friends.
Tag escorts me up to my bedroom and shuts the door after me as I step into my dark, empty room. For the first time since my initial night here, I hear the outside lock slide heavily across the door.
Chapter Eleven
I wake up to a knock at my bedroom door. I haven’t even bothered to change out of my clothes from the night before, so I just swing my legs onto the floor and sit up.
“I’m decent,” I call out. Tag opens the door and pokes his head in.
“Flint wants to see you downstairs,” he tells me.
I nod. This isn’t going to be fun. I quickly slip my sneakers on and follow Tag down the stairs to the office area. I haven’t been back here since that first meeting with Flint. We walk back into Flint’s office and I see Bean rise from a chair outside his door. Flint looks up as we enter. He gestures to a chair in front of his desk and I sit. Bean and Tag flank the door. I can sense them glaring down at the back of my head even though I can’t see their faces.
Flint’s expression is grim. He leans forward on his desk and studies me. I meet his gaze for a momen
t and then look down at my hands clasped in my lap.
“Violet, I think we’ve treated you well here, given you quite a bit of leeway,” Flint begins, his voice flat.
“You have,” I agree quietly.
“So then would you care to explain your little escape attempt last night?” he asks.
I knot my fingers together. I can’t bear to tell these three men what was going through my head last night. I’m so ashamed by my jealousy and impulsiveness. I’d almost rather them look upon me with suspicion.
I shake my head slowly. Flint sighs and leans back in his chair.
“I don’t think I have to tell you that you’ve jeopardized our agreement with the Devil’s Army,” he tells me, “Have you had any contact with your husband since you’ve been here?”
My head snaps up. “No, how could I?” I ask.
“You could have snuck in here, used the phone,” Flint shrugs, “Like I said, and you proved last night, we’ve given you too much leeway.”
“No! I haven’t spoken to him, I swear,” I insist.
I hear Tag and Bean shift their weight behind me.
“Someone has stolen money from us, Violet,” Flint says slowly, “I don’t think I have to tell you how serious a situation that is.”
Shit. My stomach drops. They don’t really think that was me?
“If we find out that it was you,” Flint says, reading my mind, “Or that you have assisted someone in stealing from us, our treatment of you will change. Rapidly. Clear?”
I nod, my eyes welling with tears. I feel like a scolded child. Except...one that’s now in mortal danger. Flint stands and I copy him. I’m opening my mouth to somehow plead my case when I hear the door from the lounge open and someone running toward us. The prospect Green skids into the office.
“Five cop cars pulling up!” he yells as he runs.
“Shit!” Flint exclaims. “Where the fuck was Greeley on this? Get her out of here!” he orders Bean, pointing at me. “Hide her in one of the crawl spaces on the third floor—we don’t need them asking her questions.”
