by Bijou Hunter
Effortlessly pinning me to the bed with his powerful body, Colt kisses me. His lips are on fire. I know what the heat means. There’s no talking him out of owning every inch of me. Oh, I’ve tried before when I was sweaty, stinky even. The summer painfully wears on, and I wish I could always wash off before he touches me.
But Colt refuses to be denied. He nips at my lips, warning me not to waste time complaining. I have no say in the matter. Earlier, the sight of me sent him into sexual overdrive.
Now he’s naked against me. My fingers find his hot skin, sliding along his muscled arms. I grip his shoulders as he kisses his way down my throat to my tits. He lingers on my nipples. My whimpers only embolden his demanding tongue.
I forget about a shower. My legs spring open. The spot between my legs is on fire even before he spreads open my flesh and licks my clit.
“Fucking hell,” I groan.
Colt snickers, proud of himself. He’s arrogant in his knowledge that my body craves his touch above all else. I was certainly arrogant when I sucked him off in less than two minutes. Oh, boy, do I own his dick!
Just as my pussy is the property of the sexier than sin, Colt Johansson.
I come once, maybe twice. My brain can’t comprehend time. The pleasure leaves me feeling stoned. By the time I wrap my legs around Colt’s powerful hips, and his dick forces my pussy to submit in the same way his tongue did earlier, I’m only capable of staring with a silly smile.
“You were glorious on the trampoline,” he murmurs.
“You’re glorious everywhere.”
Slowing his hips, he softens his gaze. “I want to move here. Will you come with me?”
“Even if I have to sneak into your suitcase, I’m coming with you.”
Colt smirks at the word, “coming.” His hips move faster. He’s gotten the reassurance he craves. I appreciate him asking me to come along as if I really have any choice. Not only does my pussy belong to this man, but my heart can’t survive without him.
Since Colt needs extra affection today, we remain naked until a half hour before we’re expected to meet his cousins for dinner.
“I can be in charge here,” he says as we cuddle in the generic hotel room. “It’s not Ellsberg, though.”
I wish Colt could wait to move to Pema. Would a year or two more in Ellsberg really hurt? Despite my fears, I only whisper, “It’s nice here.”
“Do you really think so?”
“I’ve only seen Vidalia’s house, the front of the bar, and this hotel room, but those three places were definitely nice.”
Colt kisses my forehead. “I never thought I’d leave Ellsberg, but there’s no upward mobility there,” he says and snickers. “I learned that upward thing from watching a movie.”
“How soon would you want to leave Ellsberg?”
His dark eyes widen, filling with concern. “I’m not going anywhere without you.”
“I know. That’s what I meant.”
Giving me an uncertain nod, Colt sighs. “Am I making a mistake?”
I want to say yes so badly. My life would definitely be better if we stayed in Ellsberg. Of course, Colt’s already improved everything about every single day since we met. He supports me when I go nuts. He always makes me feel safe. Now he needs me to support him.
“It’ll be difficult for us to move here. I’ll be sad a lot, missing Rae and Kori. I’m also really attached to your mom. Then there's you and how close you are to your family. I think we’ll be miserable here for a while,” I say and see the worry return to his gaze. “But I also think you wouldn't push so hard to come here so quickly if this wasn’t something you needed deep in your gut. It’s like how you couldn’t wait to start a life with me. When something clicks for you, Colt, you always move fast. That says to me that we should give Pema a chance despite our fears.”
Colt studies my face as his smile grows. “You’re perfection. I promise to reward you for taking a chance on me. It is my solemn oath to spend every evening with you, watching action flicks and making you come.”
“I’m keeping you to that promise.”
Wrapping me in his arms, Colt soothes his worries by soothing mine. We’re a team now. True, he brings way more to the table than I do, but I have power too, and I silently swear to myself that I’ll never let him down.
THE CHAPTER WHERE THE STORY ENDS
THE HEIR
Two days after I return from Pema, Pop calls an emergency meeting. On a blistering hot day, the entire Ellsberg club fits into THE BUNKER without knowing the topic. Not even me.
“I need you to trust me,” Pop said that morning when I sat with him on the back deck with Thisbe.
“I do.”
“No,” Thisbe says and hands her pop-pop an apple slice.
Taking the food, Pop grins despite his tension. “I need you to prove you trust me today.”
“How?”
“Don’t say a fucking thing at the meeting. Stand there with your arms crossed and your mouth shut. Can you do that?”
Even suspicious of why I’m getting neutered, I still nod. “You mean, don’t try to cut off Rod’s face and staple it to his father’s ass?”
“Don’t do a fucking thing except stand there and say nothing. Can you do that, Colton?”
“No,” Thisbe says helpfully. Of course, she says “no” to pretty much every question. I’m much more agreeable, so I nod at Pop’s question.
At Whiskey Kirk’s, Judd greets us. He wears a grumbly, pissed-at-the-world snarl, but I sense he’s faking his irritation. He’s been unhappy since he found out why Stella bashed Rod’s bike. I don’t know if he received extra loving from his woman last night, but his bad mood isn’t fooling me.
“Vaughn here?” Pop asks.
“Yeah. With Dylan. Tucker is with Animal.”
Pop gives Judd a weird look at the sound of the last man’s name. I don’t try to guess why since there’s a plan in play that I’m not a party to.
“Zip it,” Pop says before we walk into THE BUNKER.
I grunt a response since he doesn’t want me speaking. Catching the hint, he nods his approval.
Inside stinks from too many hot, sweaty men in too small of a room. Plus, Eagle Eye’s here, and he still won’t wear deodorant. One of the Rogers has the same belief in their inner armpit allure. Is it Cavalry? Did he smell at our meeting?
Distracting myself from the sight of Rod’s smug fucking face, I struggle to remember which Rogers boy walks around with festering pits. I think it might be Maverick, but Heidi would have ragged on him when I visited. No, it’s one of the younger guys. I spot Vaughn near the back and decide to ask him later. This shit’s going to bug me until I know.
The distraction technique only works until Pop closes the door and tells everyone to shut the fuck up. The men mumble another thirty seconds before finally behaving. I wonder if they’d have taken so long with Kirk Johansson. Would he have fucked up anyone still talking? I decide to ask Judd once the meeting is over, and I can speak again.
Pop crosses his arms and looks around at the men. “I must have fucked up somewhere along the way. Did something to make you assholes think I’m soft. Why else would Rod and Eagle Eye go against my orders?”
“Wait, now, what’s this about?” the older man says immediately. He and his rapist son were hiding behind a few other guys, probably figuring I wouldn’t rush them if they had a wall of muscle between us. Now Eagle Eye steps out from the others and plays innocent. “We went through this shit, and I don’t see why we’re going over it again?”
Pop doesn’t move a muscle. There’s no bravado in his stance. He seems too relaxed like how he’d be at home with Mom rather than surrounded by his men.
“I told you to go with that fucker to the motel to return the money.”
“And I did.”
“Then you were there when Rod grabbed Stella and shoved her against the wall? Did you just stand there when he threatened to kill her and her friend and the fucking kid in the room?
Is that what you’re saying?”
The room rumbles with men whispering to each other. Some likely don’t believe Rod did a damn thing wrong ever. Others don’t care if he raped all the chicks in the motel room since he wears our patch. A few probably are simply fucking outraged to hear Rod isn’t a saint. Outraged! The only ones who don’t whisper are Pop’s top-tier guys because they already know what’s going down. I’m the only one left out of the group who’s usually in the know. Hell, even Quaid stands in one corner, looking bored. How did he jump over me to the front of the line?
“None of that shit happened,” Rod says while his father remains stupidly silent.
Hearing the asshole’s voice sets off my rage, and I nearly steamroll Judd to get to Rod. Before I can take a step, I put on the brakes—hard. I think I hurt something deep inside when I refuse to jump the asshole. Like I’m literally in pain, and I forget to breathe too. Rage pulses through my veins, but I won’t break my promise to Pop.
“Then I should believe you over Colton’s woman?”
“Fucking hell, you should!” Eagle Eye hollers. “I’m sorry, but your boy’s been had by this tricky bitch.”
Biting the inside of my mouth, I don’t move an inch from my spot. Everyone—except those top-tier fuckers in the know—gawks at me. They’re judging me. Fucking worse, they’re judging Stella! Motherfuckers are thinking shit about my woman. I want to kill them all.
I don’t move from my spot. Don’t react on the outside at all, even as my mind entertains visions of tearing the men apart. I swear on my sweet mother that I’ll watch these men die. But for now, I behave. For Pop, I swallow my pride and rage. I’m a good soldier.
Pop studies Rod. “I don’t believe you. I don’t believe your stripper girlfriend. She lied about you being out there the day Rae says you raped her. Patsy also lied about why she had two black eyes and a swollen lip. Seems to me, that you like hitting women. Now we know you rape them too. So, it fits that you’d threaten to murder that little girl. There’s no doubt in my mind that you’re scum, but that’s not under discussion. You’re out of the fucking club. No, what we’re here to talk about is what happens to your lying piece of shit father.”
The room erupts in manly, outraged chatter. Again, the only ones who don’t speak are the guys close to Pop. Well, Uncle Tucker does tell Animal to shut up. His former son-in-law submits immediately.
I stare at Rod, trying to read his expression. His still bruised face reveals anger, a little shock, but mostly he looks scared. It never in a million years occurred to the bastard that there’d be consequences for his behavior. I bet he’s hit and raped plenty of women over the years who were too afraid to make a stink. He figured no one would ever make him stop. His arrogance explains why he thought threatening Stella—even after she’d gone on a date with me—was a safe move.
Eagle Eye doesn’t look angry. No, he’s playing as if he’s hurt by Pop’s accusations.
“Haven’t I always done what the club wanted?” he asks Pop once the guys shut the fuck up.
“I told you to go with him to the motel. You said you did. So, either you lied about going, or you stood there while your boy roughed up Stella.”
“That shit never happened. Rod wanted to make things right even after the girl lied. Now I know you want to believe her. I understand how Colton’s feelings are involved here, but I’m telling you Rod didn’t hurt anyone.”
“Did you go with Rod to the motel like I ordered you to?” Pop asks calmly.
“Yes, and none of that shit happened.”
“Did you tell your daughter to attack Stella?”
“Of course not.”
“Jera went there looking for trouble.”
“She was upset over what the girl said about her brother.”
“About how he’s a rapist?”
Eagle Eye shakes his head. “You’re just not being fair.”
“I talked to Rod, and I talked to Rae. One of them was lying. I know Rod lied about being there that day. There’s no doubt about that, so if he lied about being there, he lied about raping Rae.”
“Is a blowjob really fucking rape?” Eagle Eye asks, looking around since he’s playing to the jury rather than the judge. I think he’s forgotten how clubs work. There’s no committee or vote. Top guy decides and the others fall in line. The fact that he doesn’t get that shit makes me wonder what the hell happened to the Reapers since Pop-Pop’s day.
“I don’t know,” Pop says, sighing as if tired despite me knowing he was perky as hell an hour ago. “If some guy shoved his dick in Jera’s mouth and told her to suck him off or he’d hurt her, would you consider it rape?”
“That’s not fair.”
“Life’s not fucking fair, Eagle Eye, so quit talking like a teenage girl losing her phone privileges. I need to know if you’re out of the Reapers or if a simple beating will fix what’s broken about you.”
More grumbling from the men. Pop doesn’t react. Never tells anyone to shut up. He’s coming off weak. Why act tough with these two if he’s just going to let the others behave like bitches?
Eagle Eye doesn’t respond. He looks around for help from the other guys. I see a handful who are genuinely pissed in his defense. How dare their president take the side of some bitch over a patched member? Shit, two patched members! No, it’s just so damn unfair.
My rage makes me lightheaded. Or maybe it’s the damn heat. Usually, THE BUNKER is better air-conditioned, but it’s fucking boiling today.
“Help me decide, Eagle Eye,” Pop says, sighing again. “I’ve known you all my life. Watched your kids grow up. You watched mine too. Help me figure out what to do with you.”
“I don’t know how.”
“Admit you didn’t go with Rod to the motel. Let’s start with that.”
“I was there, but maybe I didn’t go up to the room with him.”
“He went alone and threatened them.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“I did.”
“Rod says he didn’t threaten them.”
“Rod lies. I’m not talking about him now. I’m talking about you. Why didn’t you go with him to the room after I told you that’s what I wanted?”
“I didn’t know you meant to go to the room with him.”
“Why did you think I wanted you to go along then?” Pop asks, patiently tearing apart the man’s bullshit.
“To make sure he gave back the money.”
“So you admit he stole their money.”
“Naw, wait,” Eagle Eye says, putting up his hands and sighing as if he can’t believe how unfair Pop’s being. “You’re twisting my words. I just meant you said he had to give them money. I just meant he did that, and I made sure he did that.”
“But you didn’t go to the room. How do you know he gave them the money?”
“He told me.”
“But we know he lies.”
“I don’t believe he does.”
Pop laughs loudly. “You think your son never lies? So in his entire life, he’s only told the truth, huh? He’s a criminal biker and a fucking human being, but he’s never lied. Oh, hell, Eagle Eye, if you’re that fucking naïve, it’s no wonder your kids run around causing trouble.”
A few men chuckle. I think there are a few who’ve adjusted to the idea of cutting Eagle Eye loose. That’s what men like us do. We’re loyal sure, but we’re not fucking stupid. Eagle Eye is their friend. Cooper is their friend too. One of them is going to win this argument. Some of them will stubbornly choose Eagle Eye. Others will fall in line with the stronger man. It’s what Cap Hayes calls the “Big Dog Battle.” When his father takes on another powerful man, people can sense who’s the bigger dog—the scarier threat and most likely to retaliate if you choose wrong—and back that person. Cap claims his father never loses those matches, and I believe him.
Today, my father is playing the same game. But he’s also acting weak. His play is disjointed, and I don’t get the goal really. He’s not just talk
ing here to talk.
But I trust him because he’s smarter than me. I hate seeing men I grew up with now looking at my pop as if he’s weak, but I don’t react. I keep my word to Pop and stay silent. He’s the one running the show. I’m just the confused bystander.
Eagle Eye sighs loudly. The laughter ends, and now everyone watches him. Judging HIM. Choosing sides.
“My kids do what they think is best,” Eagle Eye finally says.
“Like how Jera got two of her friends to help jump Stella?”
“They said she started arguing with them and shit got out of hand.”
“You do know those gas stations have cameras, don’t you? I’d hate to think one of my men is fucking stupid. Are you a clueless bitch, Eagle Eye?”
“You’re just not being fair, Cooper,” Eagle Eye says, raising his voice. “I’ve been a loyal soldier. We go way back. You said as much yourself. I knew your pop. He trusted me.”
“Yeah, he did. If he hadn’t, you’d be dead. That’s how things worked back then. So far, I’ve run shit differently.”
The room falls silent. No one fucking breathes. A dangerous energy crackles in the air, and I seriously wonder if someone’s about to die.
“You’re a good man,” Eagle Eye says, sounding as if he can’t catch his breath.
“Which is why your son is out of the club and why I need to punish you in some way. My heart won’t let me run a club with foul fuckers in it. I’m soft that way.”
Eagle Eye exhales deeply, realizing Pop isn’t about to kill him.
On the flip side, I’ve come to the realization that Eagle Eye is a dead man. Everything clicks into place—why Pop got everyone together just to go over shit we already knew, why his top-tier guys are spread out in the room, and why my job is to stand here looking fabulous.
No one is dying today, but more than Eagle Eye and Rod are on the hit list. Every man who complains through this meeting gets his name added. The top-tier guys aren’t spread out to keep the peace, but to look for those who aren’t loyal enough to Pop. I’m here to remind everyone that Rod’s word doesn’t compare to mine. There’s a pecking order, and anyone who doesn’t understand this fact will end up on the hit list.
