Virgin

by Gadziala, Jessica

  Chris had made progress as a whole. Had started training up at Hailstorm with Lo, Janie, Maze, Alex, Lenny... most of the girls club. But she lost her shit when she tried to spar off with any of the guys. Fucking understandably so, but we all knew she would never really have full training until she could shake off a man, until she didn't shut down or bug out. I guess they settled on Edison this time because he did his pressure point shit that didn't require full contact.

  Lo had taken to motherhood the way everyone had expected her to. Effortlessly. She'd been, after all, a mother figure to everyone in her organization for years already. And because Lo was safe, Chris had taken to her as well, clinging to the calm, confident, capable woman who promised to show her how to be all those things as well. In time.

  And Cash, well, he tried. He was there. Present. Persistent. Patient. Even though Chris hadn't been great about showing any kind of affection toward a man yet.

  We figured if she were ever capable of feeling that for a man, it would be Cash. Who was, essentially, one of the easiest going, loving men I had ever been around, always good with the kids, quick with a joke, not easily pushed away or offended.

  We were all silently hoping for him. For Chris. For all of them and their newfound family unit.

  "Only been like a year," another voice joined our conversation. One of the roughest ones we had. Not Edison, Wolf.

  And, well, he would be one to know about women and recovery from the horrible things done to them, being with Jstorm.

  "How does someone as massive as you walk around like a cat?" West wondered aloud, making heads turn to him. West, it seemed, was born devoid of that hindrance called a filter. Everything he thought, he spewed right out. I had a feeling it would either be refreshing over time, or completely fucking intolerable. Time would tell.

  Wolf's gaze slid over, brows pulled together slightly. "Shop floors are dirty," he declared, then made his way toward the bedrooms without another word.

  "The shop floors?" West clarified.

  "Repo's shop," Sugar clarified.

  "What kind of shop?"

  Pagan's lips tipped up. "Antique car shop. Good luck with those oil stains, man," he added, clamping a hand on his shoulder before moving off.

  "He's serious? He wants me to clean shop floors?" West asked.

  "Maybe you can call up Finn for some ideas on cleaners," Sugar suggested.

  "Who is Finn?" West asked, lost.

  "He's got a lot to learn," Sugar told me as I moved into step beside him.

  "Mmhmm," I agreed, both of us enjoying this way more than we should have seeing as Sug and I were in West's shoes not that long ago, having to figure out all the intricate ins and outs of the complicated Navesink Bank criminal underbelly.

  "So you gonna see her again?"

  "Told her I would."

  "Is that a yes?" he demanded to know, not letting me evade.

  "It's a yes," I declared, going into my room before he could ask me anything else.

  Once some of the guys cleared out, I was given some slack, everyone speculating more on what was going on with Third Street instead of about my fucking feet... or what was going on with me and Freddie.

  I texted her, though.

  Another first.

  Just casually asking how things went with her brother.

  She hadn't answered, and I figured it was because she was likely at work.

  "Stop checking your fucking phone," Sugar growled at me as I came back in from a casual stroll, my third of the night. Sugar and Reign had been out at least as many times as well.

  Nothing.

  But then again, it wasn't like Roan saw it every night either. Just once. Maybe it had been a fluke, some newbie who didn't know the rules. Or maybe we just needed to wait it out a couple more nights.

  "Do I give you shit about how much Peyton texts you?" I shot back.

  "She finally answer? What? Think I didn't know?" he asked, smirking. "Had that sad puppy look all fucking day until, what, she got outta work and answered you, right?" He was right, damn him. And I had about my fill of ribbing for the day.

  "Lay off."

  "She coming over tonight?" he asked, ignoring me. "Peyton wants to meet her," he added.

  To that, I chuckled, rubbing the side of my face. "I don't know if she is quite ready for Peyton yet," I told him.

  "She's not that crazy."

  "She drives a hearse."

  "So?"

  "She likes snuff books."

  "They're not that bad," he defended her even though I had seen him trying to read one once. And his hardened criminal ass looked a little green.

  "And don't think that alien cock story didn't get around to me too," I added, making him smile as he hung his head, knowing he was defeated.

  "I don't want the girls to get their hooks into her until I know where things are heading myself," I admitted.

  "That's fair enough," he agreed. "But you got about a week before they all get on your ass. So decide shit fast."

  A week.

  I figured that would work. If we spent time together and didn't get sick of each other, then, yeah, it was fair to say it was heading somewhere. I wasn't talking hearts and rings and shit. But maybe somewhere serious enough that she might be around the club some more. Which would warrant her getting to know the girls club.

  My phone buzzed in my hand, something it took her half an hour to get up the nerve to text.

  Do you want to come over?

  And fuck yes, I did.

  TEN

  Freddie

  The next week was a blur.

  But in a good way, not that 'I am too busy and can't even enjoy a moment of my day' kind of blur.

  I went from adept enough at handling the often overwhelming input of orders at work to an old hand at it, the pride something pure and unmistakable.

  Abby praised me - in her characteristic, offhand sort of way - and then had teased me endlessly about blushing in response to it.

  Then I would get home, shower, spend a little time with Thaddeus.

  Then Ty would be at my door.

  I wasn't sure what I had been expecting after the first night. I guess a part of me had actually figured I would wake up alone.

  Not to the sound of voices in the living room.

  Thad.

  Colson.

  Ty.

  Then, I figured, maybe all the family squabbling might also be a turn off for him, might send him running. Especially since it wasn't something he was used to. I fought with my brothers practically since the cradle. It was as common as a casual conversation for us. But Ty had never really had a chance for a traditional family. And his arguments with biker brothers likely led to blows, not heartfelt conversations like most of my family fights ended.

  Case and point, me and Colson after Ty left.

  Thad had handed me a coffee, then walked us both over to the dining table, forcing us each down into seats across from each other, then declared, "Sort your fucking shit out. I need to go do a full-body shave and lotion."

  With that mental image, he left us alone, full of raw feelings, uncertainty, offense, and more than a pinch of anger on both our sides.

  Then, well, we had the hard talk.

  Spanning ten years of uncertainty and misunderstandings.

  By the end, we had both gotten it all out, all the resentments, hurts, disappointments.

  It was all fine.

  Until we got to the subject of Ty.

  "He's an arms dealer, Winnie."

  "I'm aware of that. I'm an ex-con."

  "No you're not," he insisted.

  "But I am. On paper. According to society. I am."

  "But you're not really a criminal, Win. He is."

  "You don't even know him and you think we're better than him. That's close-minded."

  "It's not close-minded to call a criminal a criminal," he insisted. "We all make choices in life. And we do that knowing people will judge us based on them. Whether you like that, or ag
ree with that, or not. That's how it is. And people who work for a living view people who choose to make a living illegally as less. That's how it is."

  "Why is what he does any worse than the gun stores?" I shot back. "And don't bother talking about background checks we both know are a joke. No one blames the gun store when someone takes one of those guns and shoots up a school or does a drive-by or shoots their wife dead in a drunken rage."

  "Buying them illegally makes it harder for the cops to do their job," he insisted, losing steam and he knew it.

  "Yes. They do a real bang-up job around here," I said with a snort. "There's a street gang in town selling Easy Lay and they aren't doing anything about it. But you know who plans to? The Henchmen. Because maybe they sell guns to people who would find them regardless, but they also have morals. They stand up for women. They don't let things get too crazy around here."

  "You can't call a vigilante a hero."

  "Why the hell not? I don't know what world you are living in, Colson, but the one I have been in has been a lot uglier, I guess. Do you know how many women I was housed with who were molested as kids, raped as young women, beaten by their husbands? And even if they reported it, nothing was done. Do I think it would be wrong for someone to deal with those men in a less than legal way? No. No, I don't. Vigilantes exist because the law stumbles and falls flat on its face sometimes. And no one should get away with it just because of a technicality. So, yeah, anyone who sees a wrong and rights it is a hero in my book. Whether they wear a badge or not."

  Colson looked away for a long minute, putting his thoughts together, before coming back with, "I can't fucking lose you again, okay? You get that? I know you were inside and that was its own kind of hell. But it wasn't great being out here, knowing you were stuck there, knowing I couldn't protect you, couldn't help you. And it sucked that you couldn't be here. Couldn't come out with Thad and me when he finally came out, have something called a Strictly Dickly Cocktail at a gay club a couple towns over. Couldn't celebrate Christmas with us. New Years. Your birthday. That you didn't get to see Jelly as a baby, watch her turn into the sweet little hellion she is now. It sucked for you, but it sucked for us too. And I can't deal with that again. You getting involved with a criminal means there is a chance that you could get wrapped up in something and go away again."

  "Fool, did you not hear that fine ass man say that he would never let her go down for his shit?" Thad asked, coming out of the bathroom with a burst of steam, rubbing oil over the top of his head and down his cheeks. It was his anti-aging miracle solution he mixed from four different oils. "My heart went pitter-patter at that shit."

  "What he says and what he does are different things. I'm sure Tanner never told you he was going to let you go away for his crimes."

  Tanner, I felt, was a sore spot not just because of what he had done to me. But because Colson had met him. Had been charmed by him just like everyone else. Had approved of me dating him.

  The betrayal had to have hurt him as well. Filled him with guilt. He didn't want to feel that way again. He didn't want to think that his approval of a guy was a factor in why I dated them, why I may end up in prison because of them.

  "I'm not asking you to approve of Ty..."

  "Oh, he has a real name. Ty. I like that," Thad butted in, shameless in his eavesdropping as ever.

  "But I am asking that you trust me to make my own decisions. I have no intentions of going to prison again for a guy I'm dating. Trust me."

  "So... you think this is something?" Colson asked, carefully. "Not just a..."

  "Fuck-buddy situation," Thad supplied for him, knowing Colson was not quite as easy talking about his little sister's sex life as he was.

  "Yeah, more or less," Colson agreed.

  "Honestly? I don't know. In case you forgot, I am new at all of this. And he isn't exactly..."

  "A serial dater," Thad supplied.

  "Exactly. So this is new for both of us. We don't know what this is or where it is heading yet. But... there's... I feel like there is something here worth exploring."

  "You sure that isn't just the orgasms talking, sweet pea?" Thad asked.

  "Who invited you into this conversation?" I asked, shooting him small eyes, but smiling. "I felt it before things... escalated," I supplied, feeling more uncomfortable than I ever recalled feeling around them before. "I'm not saying I am going to marry the man and have a dozen future arms-dealing bikers. I'm just... I like him. And it's been a long time since I got a chance to like anything or anyone."

  "And she deserves a little happy," Thad added, jabbing Colson in the shoulder with his elbow as he passed.

  "Yeah, you do deserve some happy," Colson agreed, giving me a small smile. "I won't keep snapping at him when I see him."

  "That is the best he can do," Thad said, sitting down. "Accept it. Now both of you have a hug. Then you gotta go pick up my cute niece from her play date, so we can go to the park."

  So we hugged.

  And we moved forward.

  The next time he saw Ty, he wasn't exactly all warm and fuzzy - but, really, no one would ever call Colson warm and fuzzy unless they saw him with Jelena - but he kept his opinions to himself, didn't grill him, even shared a meal with us.

  Which brought me to Ty.

  Every time I thought of him, my brain did that cheesy thing that early two-thousands romance movies did, showing him in slow motion, doing basic things like buttoning his shirt or sitting down at his desk, making seemingly banal tasks look incredibly sexy.

  I slow-motion thought of his hands sinking into my hips, his lips pressing into my neck, the look of complete satisfaction when he finally got me naked a second time after a long stalling game from Thaddeus who clearly enjoyed the daggers I shot at him as he kept insisting we had to watch just one more episode of some show he liked that I could barely pay attention to because Ty's hands were absentmindedly stroking over my neck and shoulder.

  I expected some belated awkwardness as Thad finally went off to sleep and we were alone, but Ty's lips pressed into the spot right under my ear, and he casually asked if I wanted to go to bed too.

  As if there was any chance I didn't as my body was pure liquid beside his.

  There was no slow teasing. There were no tentative touches, feeling each other out.

  The door barely closed before our hands started ripping at clothing, greedy for skin to touch, taste, feel pressed against our own.

  I managed to get off his shirt before he reached for mine, pulling it up over my head, but not my arms, yanking it back down, pinning them to my sides as he dragged off my yoga pants, sinking down to his knees before me, yanking up my leg, pushing it over his back, and burying his face between my thighs, driving me up... up... up.

  Then stopping, nipping into my inner thigh when I whimpered in disappointment.

  Then back he went to my clit, circling, sucking, flicking with his tongue.

  Up, up, up.

  Then pulling away again, a low chuckle moving through him when my leg sank into his back, trying to pull him closer, make him finish, give me the fireworks he kept denying me.

  By the third denial, my poor, confused body was trembling with the need for release.

  Then and only then did he slowly get back onto his feet, freeing me of my shirt before discarding the rest of his clothes, lips sealing over mine as he scooted me backward toward my bed.

  It wasn't until the backs of my legs touched the side that he ripped his mouth from mine, grabbing me, turning me, folding me forward onto the bed on my hands and knees, ass up in the air toward him.

  "Great fucking view," he growled, one of his hands slapping down on my ass, massaging the smart away for a long moment. His other hand slipped forward then down my belly, moving between my thighs, gliding two fingers inside of me, thrusting lazily until my muscles started to tighten again, threaten oblivion.

  I had prepared myself for his refusal.

  But the denial was no less torturous to my overly sens
itive system.

  My hands curled into the sheets, my forearms moving down onto the mattress, pressing my ass further out toward him.

  A low, rolling growl moved through him, his body half-turning, snagging one of the condoms off the nightstand, protecting us just a second before his hand sank into my hip, holding me still as he shoved inside me with one hard, thick, demanding thrust.

  The angle allowed him so deep that there was a foreign, delicious little pinch that I felt myself pushing back against, my hips wiggling in a small circle as his body stilled, taking a deep, steadying breath.

  His one hand stayed planted, the other landed another loud whack to my ass, the pain making my body jerk, jolt backward, forcing him even deeper, something that I was sure wasn't possible.

  "Work your clit for me," he demanded, voice rough, needy, a sound that made my belly swirl around deliciously, taking away any sense of hesitation, embarrassment as my weight shifted onto one arm, the other slipping down my body, fingers touching his cock where our bodies met before gliding upward, stroking over my clit as he started to thrust.

  Hard. Fast.

  The bed slamming back against the wall, something that would surely wake up Thad if he had even gotten to sleep yet already.

  But I couldn't seem to work up a care as Ty fucked me harder, faster, as my body tensed for another orgasm I wasn't sure it would be allowed to have.

  But even as the thought formed, Ty's hand pressed down on top of mine, pushing it harder against my clit - the unexpected contact making the orgasm slam through my system, making my breath catch, my muscles tense, my voice get strangled in my throat, something like a choking noise only managing to come out as the waves crashed and crashed, as Ty kept fucking me through it, dragging it out, before he planted deep, hissing out my name as he came.

  His body folded forward with the impact of his climax, his head resting between my shoulder blades as he fought to get his breathing back to normal.

  "Didn't think it was possible, but that might have been better than last night," he declared as he slid out of me, my boneless body falling over onto my side, watching as he moved away to the trash bin he knew was on the other side of my nightstand now, then coming back to the bed. "Move over," he demanded with a slow, lazy smile, smacking my ass until I complied, scooting over to leave just enough space for him to climb in behind me on his side, knees under mine, chest to my back, arm over my belly.