But many of us wanted to keep the gang as a small, tight-knit club–to stay away from organized crime. The thing is, Weston had allowed a lot of shady and brutish characters into the club over the last few years, saying they brought money and several businesses that were all in the interest of saving the club–which they did.
But these new members eventually overruled the majority. And this had changed the club drastically. We had been caught up in a lot of bad shit with some very bad people against Pops’s and some others–including mine–better judgment.
When I’d been released from prison, I started to feel the gang was a mere shadow of what it used to be, what it used to stand for: Brotherhood and riding on the open road. This wasn’t the Fire Birds Pops had led back in the day--where I grew up in. This wasn't the Fire Birds I had once loved.
Since Weston took over, several members of the Fire Birds had been killed or sent to prison–myself included. But I couldn’t leave the Fire Birds. I had been born into the gang and it was my family. I couldn’t leave my fellow brothers to rot in hell.
Both Dixon and myself wanted to try and change Fire Birds back to what it was, but we had gotten ourselves in too deep with what Weston had taken the club into. And now the Locos were attacking us, but why?
I only knew that Fire Birds was still my club, and it was protecting its people now.
Truth be told, I'd kind of enjoyed the lockdown, even with the constant threat. We'd all been together for days, and it had felt more like a family than it had in awhile. Weston, Dixon, and myself each had the luxury of private space. Everyone else was bunked together all through the clubhouse, and cots and bedrolls had to be brought out and put away daily. It was a Bird Feeder buffet for the rest of the guys.
Dakota had settled in quickly, despite her resistance, and she'd been completely understanding since our talk on Christmas Day. I loved how comfortable she was in the clubhouse. None of it intimidated her. None of it shocked her. She took part in the ribbing and crude talk and didn't get her feelings bruised. She held her own with the whole rough bunch.
I'd thought when I met her that she was too classy to be part of my world. And she was the most beautiful, elegant woman I'd ever known. But she was also unaffected and accepting, so she took us as we were and expected only the same in return.
She loved most of us, I knew. And we loved her. I could see it in the way the others looked at her, the way the others talked to and about her. I wouldn't be surprised if some of them were a little in love with her. The thought didn't make me jealous; it made me content. She was mine. I could share a little of her light with my brothers.
Besides, as elegant as she was, she had a helluva saucy streak. And I wouldn't be surprised if none of the guys could take her in a fight. In addition to the martial arts thing I'd seen and observed–when she went with the Fire Birds to take target practice–that she was a deadeye with rifles and pistols. Plus the bow, which I'd already known about. I'd come to find out that my girl was a serious badass. None of that would likely be enough if the Locos really went after her, but it was sexy is all.
"Okay, babe. I'll take it to the guys. It's been quiet since Christmas, so maybe it's time to break up the party."
"You do know that when I need to go, I'm not going to care whether you boys vote on it or not, right?"
I grinned and kissed her. "Oh yeah. I got that message loud and clear."
She closed her laptop and set it aside, took off her glasses, and put her hands around my face. "Good. As long as we're clear. You’re pretty face can only get you so far." She nibbled my lower lip. "Well, you've broken my concentration now, and I'm not going to be able to work. I think you owe me."
I grabbed her legs and pulled them around, shifting so that I was between them. "Jake Rider, at your service. Let me see if I can make it up to you." I kissed her bare belly where her shirt had spread open. I slid my hands under the shirt and up to her breasts.
She pulled off my beanie and threaded her hands through my hair. I pinched and rolled her nipples between my thumbs and fingers as hard as I dared. She sucked in her breath and arched into my hands at my touch. I was still getting used to her preference for heavy touch. I'd learned that Dakota liked a little manhandling. She didn't want to get hit or hurt–thank fuck, because I couldn't imagine doing something like that–but she liked to be moved around, and she preferred a firm grip to a feathery touch.
She was intensely passionate, and she approached sex with a sense of abandon. It was unbelievably hot, and it gave me a chance not to hold back. But I worried about crossing a line and hurting her.
Admittedly, sometimes I didn't worry about that line as much as I wished I did. Though I'd never been like this before, there were times when I was rough with Dakota without thinking about it, as if it were a kind of compulsion.
The first time had been only our second night together, after Dixon and I had been sent by Weston to deliver a package to one of our regulars. But during the meet, several black vans pulled up and attacked both my men and our allies. We were beaten up, three of my brothers had been killed, several of our allies–my friends–had been killed, and Dixon and I had gasoline poured over us… we were nearly burned alive.
Now I was strongly suspecting it had something to do with the Locos and someone in the gang was stirring trouble, I just didn't know whom. After the Lock, Dixon and I had spoken alone. He had suggested Weston was involved but neither of us could see Weston going up against the cartel. The club would be instantly crushed–him included. No, it couldn’t be him.
But that night we were attacked, I believed it was game over for me at the time, and my rage at the bitter irony of finally finding a girl like Dakota only to be killed hours later had set off a klaxon in my head. After we'd been rescued by our friend’s back up, I was desperate to get back to her and reclaim the calm contentment I'd felt with her in my arms.
I'd found, though, that calm was elusive, and I'd sat in her living room that evening with my nerves abuzz. I'd asked to take a shower to try to relax, and then she'd asked to join me. I'd still been struggling with the rage and fear of the day, and my control hadn't been very good.
When she'd looked me in the eyes and told me to, "take what I needed," I'd realized that I already loved her completely. She'd placed trust in me exactly at a moment when I didn't deserve it. How could she have known that I wouldn't go too far? Hell, I hadn't even known. But she had trusted me anyway.
She had helped me. She had calmed me. She had enjoyed it herself. And she continued to help me in that way when I needed it. I wasn't sure what kind of man it made me to need to be rough with the woman I loved in order to be okay with the things that happened in my life. Not a good man, that's for sure. I was lucky I had Dakota, who accepted it without question, and whose own preferences made room for what I needed.
And now she was moaning and squirming sexily under my firm touch. Still pinching and twisting her nipples, I unbuttoned her jeans with my teeth, and she gasped and lifted her hips up. I caught her zipper and pulled it down, pausing to nuzzle at her soft mound. I lifted my head and smiled. She always had a way to excite me. "Commando?"
She gave me a sly smile. "Felt like an au naturel kind of day."
"Well, it's hot as hell." I pinched, and she arched.
Panting a little now, she said, "Trust me, I know. I love when you don't wear any."
Releasing her breasts, I grabbed her jeans and jerked them to her ankles. She kicked free of them and spread her legs wide, giving me a fantastic view of her small triangle of dark, neatly trimmed hair and everything below it. I slid my hands under her ass and brought it up as I leaned in to taste her. I pressed my tongue into her and she sucked in a sharp breath. "Fuck. Jake."
I licked up and over her clit, my tongue flat and firm on her. God, I loved the feel of her, the taste of her. She clutched my head tight to her as I lapped at her; then she pulled up on my hair. Reluctantly, I looked up. "I want you to come inside me," she breathed.
“Anything you want.” I pulled her into my arms and stood up. She wrapped her legs around my waist as I carried her to the bed and laid her down. Wearing only my shirt, barely buttoned, and looking goddamn sexy, she watched me slide my jacket off and pull my t-shirt over my head. Then she sat up and scooted to the edge of the bed. She undid my belt and unbuttoned my jeans. She smiled as she pulled me free of the denim.
She put her mouth around me and gave me a solid suck that made my entire body clench. I arched my back and groaned. I pushed her back, and she let me slide out of her mouth. I pulled off my boots and socks before I let my jeans drop to the floor and stepped out of them. I leaned over and grabbed a couple of pillows from the head of the bed.
I caught both her legs under her knees and lifted her ass up, folding the pillows and pushing them under, resting her down on top of them. She lay back as I moved between her legs. She was positioned so that her hips were high off the bed and canted up at the perfect angle to take me where I stood. I pushed slowly into her; as soon as I was fully sheathed, she wrapped her legs around my hips. I grabbed her thighs in my hands and began to move. She took her breasts in her own hands and twisted her nipples. I loved it when she touched herself.
As if reading my mind, she moved one hand down to rub her clit. I pumped harder as she started to make breathy whimpers with each exhale. Her hips were moving against my thrusts, deepening each penetration. The muscles in her abdomen rippled as she writhed against her hand and my cock. "Jesus, Dakota. I love to watch you."
I picked up my pace, and she kept up with me. We were slamming together with no mercy. As she got closer, her hand moving fast between her legs, she started to whimper, "Oh, harder, Jake. There. There." And then her sexy mumbles became sexier grunts.
I leaned forward, dropping my hands to the bed on either side of her. The change of angle pushed her over into orgasm, and she grabbed my arms, her fingernails digging into my triceps, and arched her back. She didn't scream, but her whole body was tense with the effort of holding it back. A few more deep thrusts, and I came, too, with a groan, pushing hard into her.
I loomed over her for several seconds, catching my breath. Then I slid gently out of her, lifted her legs to pull the pillows free, and dropped onto the bed next to her. She grabbed my hand in hers and gasped, "That was way more fun than writing a syllabus." I chuckled.
We lay together, petting each other and chatting aimlessly. I thought maybe I was happiest in moments like this, after sex, when we were totally relaxed and in sync. The world felt a thousand miles away. These were practically the only times that my head was quiet, filled with nothing but my love for Dakota. I pressed my face into the crook of her shoulder and kissed her in my favorite spot.
Then Tiffany called from the other side of the door, "Jake, if you're done putting it to her, I could use Dakota's help in the kitchen!" She rapped hard twice on the door.
We snickered; Dakota rolled her eyes. "She's got such a lovely way with words." Then she sighed, squeezed my hand, and stood up. She went looking for her jeans.
I felt bereft. I propped up on my elbows. "Where the hell do you think you’re going, babe?"
"Well, I'm not sure why, but I suddenly had this thought that I should go help get dinner together." I grinned at that.
“Oh, I see your game. Love me and leave me, hey? Just using me for my hot bod?”
“No of course not. Just your cock. What else is there in life but your big cock?”
I sat up laughing and pulled her between my legs. I held her close, my head on her chest. "Stay here with me. I'm not ready for you to go." I grabbed the hand that she'd had between her legs and sucked a finger into my mouth, tasting her. My cock pulsed and hardened against her leg.
She moaned softly and swirled that finger around my tongue, then pulled it out of my mouth. "Seriously, Bad Boy, we're in too close quarters right now to deal with girls in bitch mode. Only soon, they’re going to be back here pounding on the door again. Why don't we pick this up later, when we can really focus."
"My focus is fine right now. Don't worry about the girls."
Dakota leaned down and kissed me. "I tell you what," she said, nuzzling my chin, "I'll go cook now. Make you a good meal. Get your strength up. Then, later, back here, we can have some really sinful dessert. Why don't you think about that for awhile?" She grabbed my chin. "Now, I'm really going to wash up and get dressed, so I can go help out there. You gonna let me go?"
I squeezed her tight. "I'm never gonna let you go, babe. Never. But okay. I'll let you up right now. Anyway, I'm hungry. Go fix me some dinner, woman." She raised her eyebrows and brandished her fist at me. I caught it in my hand, laughing. "Kidding! Kidding! I wouldn’t dare."
I lay naked on the bed for a while after Dakota had gone. I was happy. I was completely at peace. It was a fleeting feeling, I knew–it would probably recede as soon as I left this room–but I had it. And I'd been having these calm and content moments pretty often in the past few months. Before Dakota, I'd gone years without ever feeling like this. Too many years sleeping with girls that meant nothing to me. So I lay there and tried to feel it as long as I could.
I still couldn't believe that I'd found Dakota, and that she loved me, despite everything. And she was going to marry me one day. In this moment, lying on the bed next to the warm spot she'd just filled, with the scent of our love still strong on and around me, I could just about convince myself that our life together would be forever deep in protected happiness.
Huh. A long, happy life... Growing old with Dakota. Wouldn't that be interesting? No kids in that picture, though. I was sure Dakota was, would have been, an amazing mother. I'd been surprised to discover how sorry I was that we couldn't have kids together. The thought sent a shiver through me. I loved her too much sometimes it hurt how much. I lay on the bed in my shitty little room and imagined holding a baby that was the best of Dakota and me. My heart clenched.
It was for the best, though. My life–and, now, thanks to me, Dakota's life–was too dark and violent for children. A day hardly ever went by without some kind of bloodshed or danger. It was way too much risk and instability for children. It was why Ellie was away. Tina and I had our daughter when I was too naïve to understand, when I still thought gang life, and being raised like I had been, was a good thing. Now I knew better. The gang was corrupt and had been rotting for a while now.
A long, happy life was a long shot. At best.
And so ended my peaceful moment, as the gates of hell opened in my mind and my cares surged through. I sighed and went to take a shower.
Chapter Eight
Dakota
Though the lockdown was seriously starting to wear on me, I had to admit that I'd enjoyed hanging around with Tiffany and a few others. The days were the hardest, and that's when I felt especially stir crazy. The Fire Birds were often out in groups doing whatever it was they did. Those who stayed around were on guard duty. To leave the compound, for provisions or to get stuff I or anyone else needed from home, practically required a damn planning meeting. I spent most of my days irritated, but Tiffany had a way to call me on my moods and make me smile.
The evenings were actually fun. We made a big dinner every night, and afterwards played pool, cards, or video games, or just sat around shooting the shit. This was the part of having the Fire Birds as my family that I relished. And even though Jake's room was small and dank, something about being with him in this particular place made me feel even closer to him. I couldn't explain it, but it was a silver lining.
It had only taken me a few cooped-up hours to be heartily sick of hanging out in the clubhouse during the day, though. Then I started looking for things to do. I went out for target practice with the guys a couple of times. Only Lenny was a better shot than me. I started spending a lot of time in the weight room, where the guys mostly left me alone.
But my physical strength and steady aim became a subject of conversation, and after dinner on New Year's Day, when we were
all lazing on the couches, drinking and bullshitting, Dixon and Lenny told the Fire Birds what they’d seen me do at Storm. The rest of them scoffed, which pissed me off. "I'll take any one of you on in the ring right now," I said.
Lenny and Dixon demurred with respect, having an idea of what I could do. The rest hooted and laughed, but they all backed down with various excuses about not wanting to hit a woman. I retorted, "Right. You just don't want a woman kicking your ass inside out."
Lenny laughed and chimed in. "I don't know. I think Ron would love that."
Ron replied with a straight face, "Yes. Yes, I really would."
"Okay, Ron, baby. You wanna go?"
Jake interjected at that. "No fucking way, Dakota."
I was sitting on his lap, his arms around my waist. I turned and looked at him. "Seriously? Do you know me at all? What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means I don't want to sit here and watch Ron hit you. Or even touch you."
I patted him on the chest and looked over at Ron. "Don't worry; he won't get the chance." The guys exchanged glances, enjoying my bravado but also keyed into Jake's tension.
I stood up–I had to struggle a little against Jake's restraining arms–and stepped up to Ron. "Come on, Ronny, let's go a few rounds." With a look back, I dared Jake to get in my way.
He huffed and made a snide 'go ahead' gesture. He gave Ron a murderous look and crossed his arms. "Body shots only,asshole. And if body contact lasts more than a second–I’ll be counting–then you’re gonna be fighting me. Get it?"
I could clearly see Jake's displeasure, but, after spending so many days in lockdown, I was feeling stifled by his protective streak. I decided I didn't much care if he was displeased. I looked at Ron. "Don't worry, I won't hurt your pretty-boy face."
I could tell Ron was having second–or maybe it was third–thoughts. He looked at Jake and then at me. "Dakota, I don't know. You sure you want to do this, doll?"
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