by Vivian Gray
Brass was filling him in on the back office business around the illegal liquor they were moving. It wasn’t anything crucial, but he had been uncovering irregularities. “Just small, weird things. A couple shipments I didn’t receive, but we got billed for, things like that. I’m in touch with vendors, working on figuring things out. It’s probably just a mix-up.”
“Probably?”
“Well, I mentioned it to Caroline, and she had seen something similar for the bar orders. A bunch of months back though, and then it stopped, so she figured it was just an error and moved on. And Trish saw something in the costumes. So nothing huge in and of itself, and each one could be an individual problem with a vendor. But—”
“But what if it isn’t.”
“Right. I’m going to keep looking into it, boss, but I wanted to make sure you knew about it, just in case.”
“Sounds like a plan. I need to check out for a couple hours. Can you and Trisha handle opening the club tonight?”
Brass laughed. “Like your lazy ass does anything around here anyway.”
Jet laughed back, and they tapped knuckles before Jet left the room.
Once he was out of sight, though, the humor chilled out of his expression. Something was going on, and it was making him more and more nervous. It was almost funny; three months ago, he’d been sitting in his club, bored and wishing that something would change. Now, he had a woman he cared about, a baby on the way, and a sign that something was going seriously wrong in his clubhouse. That was more than enough change for any man.
His immediate instinct was that Kane was up to something. It was an easy instinct to follow; as long as Jet had known the other man, Kane had been up to something. But what? The two clubs, the Red Runners and the War Choppers, had managed to keep the peace. He’d had a sense for a long time that Kane was ready to move bigger, but that would involve taking over a chunk of the Choppers’ territory and operations.
He just didn’t believe that Kane was that level of foolish. The Choppers were a bigger club, established for longer, and with more bikes, more guns, and more trouble in their blood. The Runners fought for what they wanted, there was no question of that, but they also were a lot more green. They’d never really had to face-off with anyone. Jet had managed his club through conflicts both big and small; if the Runners went for a direct assault, he had no doubt that the Choppers would withstand anything they threw down.
But he’d always assumed Kane would look for a direct assault. That might not be the case at all. What if Kane went from within, trying to find the Choppers’ underbelly before making his move? Where would that weakness be?
Jet spent most of his time at the club, managing the Choppers’ legal businesses; the illegal ones to some degree managed themselves, and they reported to other high-level officers within the Choppers, who then kept Jet up-to-date on the details. That hadn’t ever seemed to be a problem, and it probably wasn’t now. But maybe it was a way he’d gotten lazy. Maybe it was time to pull everyone in and see what was going on.
And, hey, if there was trouble in the books, maybe it was pretty decent that the woman he kept on his arm was going to school to be an accountant.
Bree. There was a whole other set of thoughts he needed to have. The girl hadn’t brought up things like where they’d live – assuming she even wanted to live with him, or he wanted to live with her – once the baby was born. She’d been spending most of her time at his apartment over the club, but it was barely big enough for the two of them. Add a newborn into the mix, and he was sure the place would be way too fucking small in under a minute. Plus, the club ran at all hours of the night, and the kid would never be able to sleep.
So that meant that he’d need to set her up somewhere. A nice little place, a house or an apartment or whatever it seemed like she’d like best. Something that would feel safe and secure. And he could come by whenever she wanted.
But how long would that last? Part of the reason Jet never bothered to even try and maintain any kind of relationship was that he got bored easily. Bree kept his attention because she was kinky and voracious and liked sex every bit as much as he did. But what if that changed? Would she be okay with him at the club, surrounded by all these women, even if he swore he’d never touch any of them? And was he really ready to be that guy, all settled down and happy with it? He wasn’t sure of the answers to either of those questions.
He was borrowing trouble, and he knew it, but at the same time, he couldn’t stop himself from wondering. He’d never had to think about shit like this before. Just finding the next warm spot for his dick to rest, and then move along.
Bree – It felt so bullshit to say she was different, so maybe it was him. Maybe he’d finally hit that spot where settling down sounded good, and she seemed like someone who would be nice to settle down with. He could think of worse reasons people might have a relationship. If that was even what this was. It wasn’t like they’d declared their undying love for each other or anything like that. They were having a kid, and he was paying for her school.
What if that was all she wanted from him? He certainly hadn’t given her much reason to expect more. He pushed himself to ignore the thoughts and focus on riding his motorcycle up to the spot on her campus where she’d said she’d meet him.
It wasn’t much of a school, but he still stuck out like a sore thumb. The little community college was a cluster of buildings on the outskirts of town. There were a lot of people moving around from one building to another, and even though they were all ages and all sorts of people... he felt out of place.
He’d finished high school, and he’d thought about going to college, but it had also seemed unnecessary. He’d gone to a trade school, learned enough in the mechanic’s course to be able to keep his car running, and then he’d fallen in with the Choppers. He’d risen through the ranks, and he was happy enough where he was. When he wasn’t bored as shit.
This place wasn’t for him. It was incredibly obvious. There was no one here in leather, wearing patches, and he couldn’t see a motorcycle anywhere. Bikes, sure, cars, of course. Not a motorcycle in sight.
But his girl was here, and he saw Bree getting up from the bench where she’d been waiting for him and walking across the lawn. She was hunched in on herself in a way that made him crack his knuckles and need to take very deep breaths.
“What happened?” he asked, as soon as she could hear him without shouting.
She shook her head hard. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Bree – Babe, I can see you’re shaken up. Tell me what’s going on.”
“It’s nothing you can fix, Jet. Thank you for coming to get me. I want to go now.”
The refusal surprised him. It wasn’t that Bree hadn’t ever stood up to him or talked back; that would be ridiculous. But the vehemence in her tone surprised him. And, more than a little, it turned him on. He pushed that part of himself back, at least for now; he wanted to know how she was doing, and there wasn’t anything to toss her up against and fuck her senseless anyway.
“Okay,” he said. “Do you need to go back to your place?”
At first, she shook her head, but then she seemed to stop and consider. “Yeah, I need to get my stuff. And if Cat’s there – I don’t want to talk to her.”
Some kind of girl fight then. Okay. He’d mostly avoided this kind of crap by virtue of not having a girl around too regularly, but at least Bree wasn’t screaming or throwing shit. There was nothing he hated more in the clubhouse then when a few of the girls started feuding and talking shit about each other everywhere. It always resolved eventually, usually with unnecessary crying and swearing that everyone was everyone else’s best friend now, and then two weeks later they’d be at it again.
This sort of thing – at least he had some vague idea of what to do.
“Okay,” he said. “Let’s go over. We’ll get whatever fits in the bike’s saddlebags, and then we’ll send someone over for whatever else there is.”
&n
bsp; “Sounds good,” Bree said, but her eyes were still far away.
He straddled the bike, and after a second, she followed him. And then quickly realized he had no idea where her apartment was. She’d never invited him there before. Thankfully, Bree realized the same thing and gave him directions. He started his bike and pointed it in the right direction.
Chapter Ten
Bree looked around her room and tried to remember when, exactly, it had stopped feeling like home. Or whether it had ever felt like home in the first place. Or when she’d last really felt like she was home.
Jet’s apartment. It wasn’t hers, not really, but it was the closest she’d come in a long time.
She packed her clothes into two bags that would fit on the motorcycle, then started pulling together the things that she’d want someone to pick up. Jet told her not to worry about boxes; whoever came out would bring a truck and take care of everything.
“Is there anything in the rest of the place that we need to grab?”
Bree thought for a few minutes. None of the furniture was hers. She’d bought a few of the cooking things, some of the plates and cups. But why bother bringing them? They were all replaceable, and she didn’t need them anyway. Let Cat have them.
“No, I think this will be everything.”
It felt good, in a lot of ways, to leave so much behind. There had been so very many things she’d struggled with in this place. She’d told herself over and over that she was going to start a new life, just as soon as things got straightened out. She’d leave her old life, her insecurities behind, but really, she’d just been dragging them forward, making them into baggage that she had to haul around.
She wasn’t sure how things would go from here. But with Jet there, sitting in her desk chair and slowly spinning from side to side, she was pretty sure that whatever happened was going to work out for the best.
Bree had to laugh though; Jet was a big man, tall and broad, and she’d never seen a human being look as out of place as he did there. His jeans were worn, his boots were dusty, and his leather was patched and broken in. He looked relaxed, but it was in a manufactured way that he never wore in the club. He was trying so hard to fit in here; she didn’t quite know how to tell him this wasn’t what she wanted. That maybe it never had been. That she’d trade her bed-in-a-bag bedroom for his rumpled blankets any day.
“What are you laughing at?” he asked, grinning.
“I’m glad to get out of this place.” It was close enough to true, and she couldn’t figure out how to say anything else without making it sound like she was laughing at him. “It wasn’t ever a place I was super happy in the first place, but it’s nothing I want now. Not even a little bit.”
He went still, watching her very carefully. “What do you want now?”
It seemed like a bigger question than it might have been. “What do you mean? Like right this second, or – overall?”
Jet stretched out his legs, tangling his feet with hers and making her giggle and step back to avoid tipping over. “Let’s start with this second. What do you want?”
Bree took a moment to consider. The obvious answer was, “To get out of here,” but the funny thing was that she did want something else. Something a little more, something dirtier. Something just a little bit of a fuck you to this place before she left it, and all the frustration and drama that had come with being Cat’s friend, behind. “Let’s do the other one first, actually. What do I want overall?”
Jet cocked his head to the side a little, but he nodded. “Okay, sure.”
“I want to be happy. I want to be financially secure. I want to raise this kid in a family, and without worrying where their next meal is coming from. I want to give them a better childhood than I had.” She took a deep breath. “I want you to be part of that. I know we kind of... said all that before. But I want you to hear it from me.”
She’d never seen such a big man go so still. He didn’t say anything, just stood up. He caught her easily, wrapping his arm around her waist and yanking her tight against him.
“Tell me how rough you want me to be,” he said, his voice barely more than a snarl.
“As rough as you want,” she replied, wrapping her arms around his neck. “But I want you to do it in the living room. I want to know she can walk in at any moment. And I want you to know that I kind of hope she does.”
His eyes went wide, and then both arms were lifting her up and carrying her out to the living room of the small apartment. When he set her down on the sofa, she felt his cock, hard and ready through the worn denim.
“I want a lot of rough,” he said, his hand coming up and squeezing her breast until she gave a little cry. They’d been sore and aching for the past few weeks, and he’d been enjoying tormenting her with it. “Are you ready to take what I want to give you?”
“Yes,” Bree said, and the eagerness flooding through her was making her panties wet already.
Her T-shirt came off fast and got tossed in the corner. He leaned down and lifted her breasts out of her bra, his teeth closing hard on one nipple while his fingers pinched the other hard. Bree cried out again, reaching down to cup his cock. He was rock-hard against her palm, and he groaned into her flesh as she stroked him through the denim.
He pulled free from her body, reaching down to unfasten her jeans and push them down to her ankles. He turned her around, pulling her hips back. She realized what he wanted and braced her hands on the back of the couch. She thought he’d go for her panties next, but after she heard the zip of his fly, she felt him just pushing them aside.
The tip of his cock was brushing against her, and then he was pushing inside, hard and fast. It hurt for just a minute; he never gave her time to adjust, just slammed into her and let her get used to it while he fucked her hard. The feeling of him spreading her wide was incredible, and she pushed back against him eagerly.
He groaned into her, his hands finding her hips and pulling him back in a rhythm that was just a little too fast for her to be entirely comfortable with. Her tits were bouncing, free from her bra, and her clit was aching. He spread her so wide and so fast that she was already aching, and the knowledge that they could be discovered at any moment was more of a turn on than she’d expected. She wanted Cat to walk in that door and find them there, fucking like crazy, knowing that Cat would never sit on this sofa again without thinking of what she’d seen.
Jet was grunting hard behind her, and she knew he was close. She wasn’t yet, but that didn’t matter. But then he groaned, pulling free from her.
“Not yet,” he said. “You want to be kinky and wish she could see you, then you get that.”
He turned her around, shoving her down on the couch and pulling her hips forward until they were at the edge of the cushion. With no more warning than that, he buried his face in her cunt. She was aching, her clit tight and needy, and he wasn’t going to show her any mercy. She writhed against his face, desperate for more contact than he ever gave her at first.
His tongue dove inside of her, then circled her clit, then teased it with the flat. His teeth closed on her and pulled. She cried out hard, wanting more, and when his fingers slipped inside, fucking her fierce and hard, she twisted and pulled at her nipples. The orgasm shattered over her fast, and even then he didn’t give her relief as she bucked and twisted on his fingers.
She’d barely felt the last of the aftershocks when he pulled her down off the couch, still on his knees, impaling her on his cock. She was still limp from the shockingly intense orgasm, and his huge girth spreading her open left her close to screaming again. He was groaning into her neck, bouncing her on his cock, and she felt him throbbing inside of her, each little pulse spreading her that much wider.
“Come for me again, babe,” he growled out, reaching between them and pinching her clit hard again.
The command unleashed something deep inside her, and the waves of pleasure were racking her body again, bending her spine as she screamed, feeling him slam into her wit
h a shout as he came too. She shattered over him, gasping out little moans as he pulled her down, again and again, using her through his own release; she could feel her cunt squeezing him, pulling every last drop of cum out of him.
He held her tight while they both caught their breath together. His hands were soft in her hair, and it felt so very good to cling to him. He hadn’t taken his jeans all the way off, and the fly was digging into her inner thigh, but she didn’t care. It just felt good.
The words slipped out without her meaning to say them: “I love you.”
She wasn’t sure right away who went more still, him or her. She felt immediately paralyzed; she hadn’t said that to anyone in years, certainly not to anyone she wasn’t directly related to. Certainly not – Well, she hadn’t had a chance to say it to a guy in a situation like this because she’d never let herself even be in a situation like this.
