Fire Meets Fire: Wretched Soulz MC

Chapter 24

Chet Netherton? After being shocked into momentary silence, I look around the room. No one else seems to be reacting to the name that fills all those who serve with horror and derision. Even Ogre doesn’t appear to understand the impact his announcement has had.

Perplexed, I raise my eyes to meet those of Chaz. “Chet Netherton?” I ask, as if me repeating it would form some connection in his brain. When that doesn’t work, I offer his title. “Senator Netherton?” A slight frown and a quick shake of his head shows there’s no recognition.

“Don’t have much truck with government,” Bull enlightens me. “Citizens might get tied up in politics but what matters to us is our club, our rules.”

It seems like a lesson is needed. Taking a breath, I proceed to educate them. “Netherton is a minor senator who holds extremist views on how the military should be run. He might not have much power, but he can hold up or delay procedural votes with his outdated views.”

When I pause, Iron prompts, “Like?”

“Like no woman should be on the front line or in command, and only serve in administrative roles. He still holds out that only card-bearing heterosexuals should be allowed to join up, and heaven help anyone who’s trans.”

“Bit like us,” Claw states, closing his mouth quickly when Chaz shoots him a frown.

Ignoring him and raising an eyebrow, I address myself to Ogre. “Surely just me being female isn’t enough for him to want me underground?”

The prez of the Dominators shrugs. “Didn’t stop to ask him the whys and wherefores, just accepted the contract that would make us two million richer.”

“Delivering me dead or alive.” I scoff. “Is there anything you won’t do for money?”

“He’d sell his own mother if he thought he could make bank,” Slugger helpfully explains.

Again Ogre’s shoulders raise and lower as if he’s not disputing that fact.

Shaking my head, I turn away from him and start to pace, tuning out the murmuring behind me and try to focus. I know the who, suspect the why, but surely just because I was a serving female isn’t enough for a senator, albeit one with extreme views on women, to want me dead.

My steps cease as I near Legend. “Can you check the names of the people who died on the Night Hawk, and also the personnel on the ground?”

“You’re looking for a connection?” He catches on fast, while wasting no time extracting his ever-present laptop from the rucksack he’d brought in. He spends a second finding a table where he can sit and get to work.

Once he’s planted himself in the best he can find that would fit the description of a quiet corner, I leave him to it after putting in another request that he finds the location of the man who so clearly hates me. Then I hear Ogre shouting out for the prospects to bring in another round of beers as well as some shots, but I correct him, using my best commanding officer voice.

“Coffee.”

Ogre snorts. “What the fuck? You don’t get to demand anything.”

A few strides takes me right up in front of him, and my finger comes out, only just stopping short of prodding his chest. “I intend to ride to confront the man who’s put a price on my head. I suggest if you want any chance of getting your payment, you prepare to ride with me.” I glance around. “And that’s best done sober unless you want to lose any of your men on the way.” To me it wouldn’t be any great loss, but my hastily evolving plan involves flummoxing old Chet with my own brand of army.

Holding his belly, Ogre bursts out laughing. “You’re signing your death warrant. Or how the fuck else are we getting two million? You, me, in the vicinity of Chet? Only one outcome, sweetheart.”

Moving faster than I thought was possible for a man of his bulk, Slugger is facing him before I can blink.

“The only ones getting money out of this are fuckin’ Soulz,” he growls in an admirably menacing voice.

The two face up to each other, but I get between them. As my hands hold them apart, I speak fast. “There’s more than one way out of this, and one which means I don’t forfeit my life. And,” I add quickly in appeasement, “I reckon Netherton will pay quite a lot to keep whatever his part is in this quiet.” I let the sides of my mouth turn up. “I think four million would just about cover it.”

“Knew there was a reason I liked you,” Slugger imparts, while I muse I’ve not had reason to feel that vibe from him.

I’ve clearly caught his interest, but am unsure about the other man.

“Four million?” Ogre probes cautiously.

I spell it out. “Two million for each club.”

Ogre’s eyes widen, he takes a moment, then barks another laugh. “Coffee it is then. And brothers?” His eyes rise and trace the room. “Got to be ready to ride.”

Although his men are unarmed and are standing with guns trained on them, there are shuffling sounds as they straighten their backs as if preparing themselves for action.

Slugger shakes his head, shoots a sad look Ogre’s way, and corrects, “Not so fast. First, we plan.”

Ah yes. Planning. The undeclared head of the Wretched Soulz goes up in my estimation. He’s speaking my language now. Fail to plan, plan to fail.

We don’t even know where to find Netherton yet. Raising my head up and down, I direct my words to Legend. “We need to know where Netherton lives. Then we’ll need a schematic of Netherton’s house and grounds, and…”

“Fuckin’ simmer down,” Slugger barks loudly. “Chaz? Get that vest off your woman and take her out.”

What?Bristling, I turn to shoot him down, but Chaz is beside me. “Just take the vest off, Helo.” Before I have a chance, he’s unbuckling it himself, handing it to Slugger, who places it carefully down on a chair that’s beside him.

“Come outside with me. I need to talk to you.”

“But…”

“Please?”

It’s that word and the soft expression in his eyes that has me agreeing. Promising myself I won’t be long and will be back to monitor whatever scheme they come up with, I follow him to the door.

Outside the air feels refreshing, suggesting I needed this break from the odour of masculine sweat inside. With the members of two clubs in the small clubhouse, the air had become stifling. But the sun mercilessly blazing down has Chaz leading me over to some welcome shade. Still taking deep breaths to refresh my lungs, I gladly accompany him.

He props himself against a wall and takes both of my hands. For a moment, he holds them lightly as I stare at where our fingers are joined. Then he squeezes them so firmly I raise my eyes. The fierce expression in his face takes me by surprise, and my gasp gets him talking.

“Fuck, Queenie. The bomb… I thought I was going to lose you.”

“I—”

“Stop!” he commands, his eyes locking onto mine. “It was a fuckin’ risk you had no business taking.” Before I can talk, he pre-empts me. “I know what you were doing, trying to get Ogre’s attention, and boy did it work. But Queenie…”

“I’m a fucking mess,” I finish for him. “I could have—and I did—collapse at anytime. But it was worth it.”

“In the end,” he interrupts me. “You didn’t know the detonator was a dud, did you?” As I shake my head, he continues, “Promise me, never, ever, will you do that again.”

I stare at him earnestly. “I’d rather die than have you tortured, or land into the hands of my enemy. I can’t promise you I’ll be able to stay away from danger.” It’s me holding tight to his hands now. “I can’t promise you I won’t run into danger. That’s not me, not how I live my life. All I can vow is that any risks I take will be calculated, and I’ll do my best to keep both of us alive. But there are no guarantees in this life.”

His head slowly moves side to side. “Fuck, woman. You have no idea how brave you are. Or…” he pauses and shudders slightly, then chuckles in a self-deprecating way. “Or how much you fuckin’ turn me on.” Pausing, his expression goes from mirth to a frown. “And how fuckin’ wrong is that? How can I do that to you? But everything about you, how you took on the role as my protector, the way you stood up to Slugger, the way you took Ogre on. You make me so fucking hard all I want is to sink my cock so deep inside you, you forget anyone who’s ever been there before.”

After all that I’ve been through, his words should fill me with horror. Instead, he makes my muscles clench in anticipation and arousal shoot to my core. We’re out here, in the open, a clubhouse full of men behind us. But they’re engaged in coming up with a plan that will earn them millions and may, hopefully, save my life while doing so. Instead of being worried I’m not part of their planning, I feel myself becoming wet and lust floods through me. I should want gentle, I should want everything so far removed from my captors that Chaz’s declaration should make me terrified. Instead, he arouses me so much I forget where I am, and all that’s gone before him.

“What’s stopping you?”

There are a hundred, a thousand reasons he could voice. But, thank God, he’s on my wavelength. As if he can read my mind, he knows it has to be here and now. Before we confront Chet Netherton, in case all the best laid plans go to hell.

Chaz slams his lips down onto mine, and I open and welcome him in without hesitation, any thoughts of a slow seduction leaving both of our heads. I’d had no idea Slugger had had other plans. I’d taken a risk, knowing I could have passed out. That bomb could have signalled the end of both of our times, and our bodies know it.

It’s not carefully choreographed as our bodies come together. He fumbles but has my zip pulled down fast. His fingers finding my pussy wet and ready only encourages him to shove my pants down. I don’t care. I’m simultaneously undressing him, relishing when his bare, hard cock falls into my hands.

I couldn’t say whether it’s me positioning him, or he who’s taking charge, as my back is suddenly against the tree and he’s fully seated within me, causing me to audibly gasp.

My exclamation brings him back to reality.

“Fuck, I’m sorry…”

“Don’t you dare stop!”

And, thank fuck, he doesn’t.

There might have been no foreplay, no fondling, no attempt to prepare me. But in this moment, it’s so totally right. I want to be fucked and he doesn’t disappoint. He starts to move, swivelling his hips, managing to hit that spot inside me that I always thought was a myth. It feels so glorious and tension starts to build within me. Even before my capture and torture, no man inside me has ever felt like this. I want to hold out, want to prolong the moment, but God, he’s so fucking good. His moves just right, the way he’s holding me, pounding into me, I don’t want it to end but am unable to stop the tsunami as my muscles contract, waves of pleasure flooding through me as my orgasm hits.

“Fuck, Queenie, I can’t…”

His hips rotate, his pumps erratic. I’m still at the summit of my own peak when he stops, grunts, and releases inside me.

Aftershocks keep my muscles contracting rhythmically, as he keeps pumping gently. Then his forehead falls, touching mine. After a few seconds, he manoeuvres so our mouths are aligned. This time our kiss is controlled, not savage, and our tongues waltz instead of dancing a frantic tango.

Eventually he pulls his head from mine. His hands move, gently, but masterfully pulling up my pants and underwear while all the time his enlarged, satisfied pupils stare straight into my eyes. “I wanted us to have a bed. I wanted you to have the control. Queenie, when I brought you out here, this was the last thing on my mind.”

Placing my fingers over his lips, I reassure him, “It was perfect.” Then, returning the favour, I raise his jeans, tuck his now flaccid cock back inside, and carefully fasten his zipper, eliciting a boyish grin from this normally taciturn man.

I hadn’t lied. It had been perfect. Just how I needed it. I hadn’t wanted to think things through, hadn’t wanted to go over everything in my mind. It had been uncontrolled, pure lust. Sex thoroughly wanted on both our parts. Our coupling so far from something being taken, that wasn’t given willingly. For the first time since my captors took so much from me, he’s given everything back. I’m not cured, I’ll have flashbacks, even he might trigger an unwanted memory and subsequent reaction from me. But there’s strength in knowing they haven’t permanently damaged me. That I can respond to a man’s desire and want him back.

“Prez?”

Bull’s shout breaks the moment. We move apart guiltily, like teenagers being caught by our parents. I wince, feeling my wet panties clinging to me, dampening my pants.

Chaz notices my awkward shifting. “I’m sorry…” But as his voice trails off, he grins again. “Fuck, I can’t deny how good it is to know that we’ll go into whatever’s facing us with you feeling me.”

It’s not the first time I’ve been left with a man’s cum running down my legs. My captors didn’t stop to use condoms. But it is the first time that I wouldn’t change a thing. His release, inside me, might have no possibility of resulting in a baby, but it reminds me I’m alive, that they didn’t kill that part of me.

As Bull spies us and approaches, I lean in and say quietly, “With this no condom lark, when we’re in that theoretical bed, you’re sleeping in the wet spot.”

“Fuckin’ right I will,” he barks.

“Prez. We need you inside.” Breaking the moment, Bull approaches. He gives no indication that he might have ideas of what we’ve been doing though it must be pretty obvious.

Truthfully, I don’t give a damn.

Chaz, though, as if he’s staking a claim, puts his arm around me as he follows his VP into his rival’s clubhouse, and doesn’t let go of me once we’re inside. Part of the reason I don’t object is that during the past moments he’s completely taken Chet Netherton off my mind.

But why we’re here slams back into me with full force. And again, Chaz has given me reasons for wanting to stay alive. And it’s not because I don’t want Netherton to think that he’s won.

So when I catch Slugger’s appraising glance, I’m ready to raise my chin, silently conveying, let’s get on with this.

I notice there’s a different ambience in the room from that which was there before we had our tryst outside. Men are looking purposeful, and rather than being guards and captives, both clubs are mingling. In particular I notice the pairings of bikers wearing similar patches, sergeants-at-arms, enforcers, and road captains conversing seriously amongst themselves.