by Violet Blaze
“Good,” he says as he studies my face and then captures it with his hand. “Because I don't know if I'd be able to let you go. I want to say that I love you enough to let you fly, but Pint-Size, I think I'm too selfish to do that. I need you here, with me, next to me.” A pause and a slight twitch of Royal's gorgeous lips. “Beneath me.”
I lean forward and kiss him softly, sweetly, before he reaches out and grabs my upper arm, pulling me against his body and thrusting his tongue deep. The kiss is sharp and possessive and warm, but I don't fight it, letting the sensations roll over my body like a wave. My skin prickles and tingles with goose bumps as I work my mouth against Royal's, kissing him like I've never kissed anyone before. It's both a claiming and a surrender, this push and pull between us. He's mine; I'm his.
At this point in my life, it's the only thing I'm sure of.
Royal rolls fully onto his back with me on top of him, our mouths pressed together, his hands roaming down my back to cup my ass. My own fingers knead the strong muscles of his shoulders while my skin sings at the full body-to-body contact between us. I can feel wetness blooming between my thighs again, can already imagine how good it'll feel to have his cock buried inside of me.
Our mouths work together, stirring up that ember of heat in my belly until I feel like it very well might take over and consume me, burn me to ash.
“Now,” I whisper against him and he chuckles softly, pushing me gently off of him and then tucking my much smaller form back against his in a spooning position.
“So demanding,” he breathes against my ear and I shiver. “A tad bossy for such a pint-sized little person, don't you think?”
“Don't destroy the romance with your sarcasm,” I whisper back at him, gasping as Royal puts a leg between my own and spreads my thighs. He finds my opening and we move together until he's sheathed inside of me, the pressure taking my breath away. One hand rests on my hip as he starts to thrust, melting my entire body with the sensation.
When his hand slides down over my belly, I rest mine atop it and close my eyes, tilting my hips back so that he has an easier time moving inside of me. It's not the wildest or craziest sexual position in the world, but it's easy, intimate. I can feel his body pressed against my ass, his leg in between my own.
We move together until I can hear his breathing change, roughening into a low, purring growl that sets my entire body on fire. When he slides his hand between my legs and starts to play with my clit, I give in and let go completely, moaning and writhing against his fingers, his cock.
Royal eases me to the edge of what I can take and then pulls away, turning my body into this empty, aching thing as he repositions us so he can fuck me from behind.
Our lovemaking gets this frantic edge to it, this response to the unanswered threat that we both suffered through yesterday. Things are bound to get worse before they get better; we both know that.
Royal holds my hips and slams into me hard, coming inside of me with a long, low groan that makes my fingers curl into the sheets, makes me bite my lip until it bleeds. He switches his cock out for his long, inked fingers again, using one on my clit and two others in the aching warm wetness of my pussy until my own orgasm catches up to me and leaves me a stupid, shuddering mess on his sheets.
And then he cuddles me.
A dangerous outlaw criminal that probably killed God only knows how many people yesterday … is cuddling me.
I guess I should be weirded out, but it feels right to be tucked in his arms like this, surrounded by cords of banded muscle and hot male heat.
“We can talk about yesterday now if you want,” he whispers against my ear and I laugh. Yesterday feels like a million miles away right now.
“Would it be terrible if I said no?” I ask and he shakes his head, pressing a kiss to my temple as I close my eyes and let myself relax. Because I have a feeling that when I wake up from this dream, I'm bound to find myself trapped in the middle of a nightmare.
Having the mayor's daughter in my bed is a bloody brilliant distraction, but it doesn't stop that frantic clock I can hear ticking inside my head, counting down the minutes until the shite hits the fan. Because it will. I know it; my boys know it.
I sneak out of bed with one last, fleeting glance at Lyric's sleeping face. It's early yet, but there's a lot to do. My mobile's blown up with texts and calls from Alpha Wolves—in our chapter and outside of it.
The army's on its way; the Saldaña Cartel best watch out.
“What is it that can't bloody wait until I get back?” I snap when I answer an incoming call from Glacier. He snorts at me and then starts mumbling around what's probably a fucking lolly or something. The man doesn't smoke, so who the hell knows what's in his mouth? It's not beyond him to suck on candy like he's eight years old.
“He's talking,” Glacier says and I feel my muscles go rigid. I pause in the hallway, my sweats hanging loose on my hips, and lean my shoulder against the wall. “You might want to meet me at the clubhouse later for a drink or two. The news isn't good.”
“Course it's not,” I say as I slip a fag between my lips and light up, standing up and heading towards the sliding glass doors before the living room fills with smoke. I might be a right dirty bastard, but I don't smoke indoors. See? I got some manners, don't I? “Meet you in thirty?”
“Make it an hour? I think our friend might have more to say if we spend some extra time together. You might want to check your messages though; the boys from Portland are in and Dober wants to throw a party tomorrow tonight. Seattle boys should be there by this evening.”
“Got it. Cheers, mate. See you soon.”
I hang up and tap my mobile against the palm of my hand.
Bad news, huh?
Well, what in the bloody hell's surprising about that?
“Royal?”
I pause and glance over my shoulder to find Lyric standing next to the dining table in one of my tank tops, the dark fabric hanging over her small frame like a dress. Outside, the sun is shining and the air smells sweet and crisp, but I can see from the look on her face that she's still trapped in yesterday; we both are.
“Come over here, love,” I say holding out an arm and pulling her against my side as we both stand on the deck and take in the gentle sway of the grass and the tinkle of the neighbor's wind chime. I get crazy déjà vu standing here, remembering that night I brought Lyric home for the first time and had her ride me on the porch swing.
Feels like forever ago.
I slide my phone back into my pocket and reach down for her hand, squeezing it hard and rubbing my thumb along her palm, against the band of the engagement ring I gave her. I asked her down to the courthouse? How romantic is that? I am such a dumb shit.
“What do we do now?” she asks quietly, looking up at me with a determined expression on her face. What happened yesterday was hard, but Lyric won't let it break her. That much I can tell. This woman here, she doesn't break easy. “Do I just head into the office as usual? Go about my business getting my father's press releases together? Updating his Facebook page? Kissing his ass?”
She sounds exasperated, but I make myself smile.
“I doubt you were ever much of an arse kisser, Pint-Size. But no. If you don't want to go into the office, don't. Come to the compound with me.”
“I was thinking of visiting the girls in the hospital,” she says, but it almost comes out as a question, like she's not entirely sure of herself. I think about it for a moment, about Dober and Mick and Jack. They're all due back at the clubhouse today, so I'm sure some of the other women will head over to keep the girls company. Because that's how the Alpha Wolves work. A club, a family. We take care of each other.
“That's a brilliant idea,” I say as I toss my cig into the barbecue and turn to face Lyric fully, cupping her face in my hands. As soon as our skin makes contact, I feel that familiar heat taking over me, burning me up from the inside. Making love to her once today wasn't enough. No, I don't think it'll ever be enough. As
king this woman to marry me … might be the smartest thing I've ever done. Even though a lawyer/judge is still a hard sell.
But then … this lawyer/judge saved the lives of three other old ladies.
“I think you might've bought us both a pass,” I whisper against her mouth, tasting the honey and wildflower sweetness of her lips. I search Lyric's small but determined face for another moment.
“In your world, maybe,” she says, and I can feel that small flicker of hesitation creeping back into her voice. “But that's good. I mean, what happened was complete shit … but,” Lyric sighs, “I want to be with you, Royal. If this is the means to that end, then … I'll take it.”
“Good.” I reach my hands up and take hold of her upper arms, my face tightening as I draw in a breath and try to crush the sudden rush of nerves.
All of the Wolves' chapters in one place.
And I'm in charge of them all.
“Because this is going to be the hardest thing either of us has ever done. Lyric, this is going to take us both to the edge.” My mouth tightens. “If something happens to me—”
“Stop it,” she snaps, but I just run my thumb over her full lips and keep talking.
“If something happens, I want you to leave. Go to D.C. or something. Say good-bye to Trinidad and don't look back.” Lyric pulls away from me and takes a step back until she's pressed into the glass of the sliding door, that baggy shirt hanging past her hips as she narrows those big green eyes on me.
When she lifts her left hand and fists it in the fabric, I feel my cock harden and my heart skip a beat.
“If you speak defeat, you'll find defeat; I use my words to win.”
I raise an eyebrow and stand up straight, rolling my shoulders to loosen my muscles.
“Did you read that in a book, Pint-Size?”
She cocks one back at me.
“My grandpa used to say that. He was a fucking asshole for the most part, but he was also a brilliant politician. He knew how to get what he wanted, when he wanted it. This … thing with the Saldaña Cartel, this is more than just club business. This is Trinidad's business. I won't let those assholes take my city”—a deep breath—“or my fiancé.”
I feel a grin break across my lips, but Lyric's already turning away and disappearing down the hallway towards my bedroom.
Our bedroom.
Because if I get anything accomplished this week, I'm going to get that girl to move in.
That, and I'm going to marry her.
The Alpha Wolves Compound is a well-oiled machine. Our customers would never know that the entire club was in a shoot-out yesterday. Minivans pull into the shop to get their oil changed, and my boys do it with a smile. If their stances are a little more rigid than normal, their mouths tight at the corners, the housewives that patronize our shop will never notice.
“How's Janae?” I ask Dober when he falls into step beside me on my way into the clubhouse.
“They released her, but she decided to stay at the hospital with the girls. I'd prefer she stay there myself, at least until I get off of work. Honestly, until we get this shit under control I'm not letting her go anywhere by herself.” Dober lights up a cigarette, his mouth pinched beneath his brown beard. “You sure putting two guys on the hospital is enough?”
I smile, but there's no warmth there. So this is what it's come to: we're not safe in our own city.
“I left Luca there when I dropped Lyric off; three guys plus hospital security should be enough. Trinidad PD's crawlin' all over that place this morning.”
“Royal McBride.”
I pause and glance up at the front entrance to the clubhouse, finding the president of the Portland Alpha Wolves standing there in his cut and jeans, a pair of brown work boots on his feet. Russ Hawkins is one of the old-timers that doesn't much care for me. I grin anyway and flick my cig aside, climbing up the steps and giving the old man a clap on the back. He returns the gesture and then steps back to look me over.
Fucking tosser, I think as the man stares me down with careful scrutiny in his gray-blue gaze. The skin around his eyes crinkles as he sighs and gestures with his chin for me to follow him. Lyric, that won't be a pleasant subject to discuss with the old geezer.
“Morale is shot around here,” I tell him as we pass by the staircase and the sitting room, emerging into the bar to find a good dozen out of town guys lounging around with beers and talking in groups. When Hawkins and I walk in, all eyes swing our way. “We lost seven men yesterday,” I say and I feel my hands curling into involuntary fists. “Everybody's jumpy. Nervous. Pissed off.”
“Yeah, well …” Hawkins pauses next to the bar and glances over his shoulder for a moment as Dober steps up next to us and folds his arms over his chest, the black dragon tattoo on his arm dancing with the motion. “We also need a pick-me-up, something to boost spirits, show the boys what they're fighting for.”
My lips purse tight and I find myself tucking my fingers into my front pockets to keep my hands still. When I glance over at the bar and find one of the prospects serving drinks to the boys, I feel my throat get tight. Feels empty in here without Fauna. It'll be a while before she's back in action though. I haven't gotten all the details from Jack yet, but although she's stable, she went through some serious surgeries last night to save her life.
Because of Lyric. Otherwise, all three of my brothers' old ladies would be dead right now.
“Throwing a party when we should be throwing a funeral?” I ask, because the idea of strippers and beer and men having drunken fumbles with the Alpha Wolves' groupies in the corner after we lost seven members yesterday doesn't seem right.
“Some of our boys won't come back from this. You know that; I know that. Let 'em have a last night of fun for Christ's sake.”
“Sitting around being miserable never did anything for anybody,” Dober says and I grit my teeth. I don't like it, but …
“Figure it out,” I say because I don't have time to hang lights and hire strippers or any of that nonsense. I can see Glacier moving down the hallway with a hurried stride and a tight expression on his pale face. When he sees me, our eyes lock and I just know whatever news he's got, I'm not going to like it.
Dober follows my gaze and stiffens when he sees our enforcer moving toward us with long, heavy steps. Glacier stops and glances down at the floor, his ice blond hair a shock of color against the black and red stripes on the walls. His face is so goddamn angelic, but there's a lot of darkness in there. Too much, maybe. I don't envy the bastard.
He looks up at us with eyes like chips of pale sea glass, teasing his lip rings with his tongue.
“I've got news. And it's not good.”
“What's fucking new?” I ask as I cross my arms over my chest and pray that Lyric's trip to the hospital is going well. To tell you the truth, I didn't actually want her to go at all. I've got two guys there to watch over the other old ladies, but even though I told Dober they'd be fine, I can't really be sure of that. The only way I can be certain that Lyric's okay is if she's with me. Period. Still, she's a grown-ass woman and I can't stop her from living her life.
Which means that I need to deal with this shit. Now.
Trinidad is my city, my home.
I don't plan on sitting around and waiting for trouble.
I'm the one that's going to deliver my own breed of trouble straight to the source.
“Clayton says the Saldañas are using the Mile Wide clubhouse to move product. They have a massive shipment they're planning to move up the 101 this week.”
“Shipment of what?” I ask as Glacier runs his black nailed fingertips through his blond hair, his mermaid tattoo grinning maniacally at me.
“You name it, they've got it: assault rifles, meth, prescription drugs, women. They want our territory and our customers and they're not waiting around to see what we'll do. They're coming, period. The Villarreal Cartel just beheaded the leader of the Saldañas, and now the man's son has taken over. They either move their busine
ss up here or they don't make any money. Last night, that was just a distraction to keep not only our eyes off the prize, but the FBI's as well.”
Chills prickle my skin as Dober swears under his breath. Hawkins doesn't show anything on his face, but the already dark mood thickens considerably.
“When?” I ask as Glacier puts his hands on his hips, his blue jeans two sizes too small. Ridiculous.
“Tuesday,” he says, looking directly at me. “Exactly one week from today. The bulk of their manpower will be with that shipment. If we want to nip this in the bud, this is our chance. The cartel is weak from the infighting, and their new leader isn't well-liked. If we can take them out now, we might just stand a chance.”
I pull in a deep breath and close my eyes, putting my hands on my hips as I look down at the floor for a moment. Never in my life have I been afraid to die, not once. No, I would've given my life for the club at any time and I'd have done it with a smile on my face.
But now?
When I think about Lyric, my chest gets tight and my heartbeat picks up. I don't want to leave her. Hell, none of us know what happens after this life, so best as I know, this is all I've got. I won't waste it.
I open my eyes and lift my head.
“That's not it, yeah? There's more?”
Glacier nods and then looks between the three of us before he answers.
“If Clay's telling the truth”—a freakish grin spreads across Glacier's mouth—“and based on our little talk, it'd be hard for me to believe he was being anything but honest …” Glacier trails off again and his smile disappears. “If he's right, then even with all the chapters present and accounted for, we're screwed, blued and tattooed. We'll be outnumbered about three to one. That, and there's also a chance the FBI might be aware of the Saldañas' movements.”
“So the question is, do we fight or do we wait and see if the feds clean up this mess for us.” The consequences of making the wrong decision are staggering and my stomach twists with nerves.
