Chapter Twenty-Four #2
“She’s mine. You look at her again, and I will gouge out your eyes. You speak to her, I’ll cut out your tongue. And if you dare to touch her, I’ll take my time and rip you apart piece by piece. Understood?”
“Yeah, Malice, understood.”
Malice pulls his knife free, wiping the blood from either side on the man’s shirt before putting it away and turning to me.
“He’ll be fine, non-life-threatening puncture wound. He’s not the first person to be stabbed by Malice, and he sure as shit won’t be the last,” the woman whispers.
Crew returns to my side, wrapping an arm around my waist. I’m frozen to my spot, blinking, my hands shaking. Did that just happen? The man behind us wraps a rag around his hand and lights up a cigarette like nothing happened.
Did Crew really just stab someone for making a lewd comment toward me?
“I see you met Saige,” Crew says. “She’s with our president, Chaos. Or he’s with her. Chaos is in charge of us, but she’s in charge of him. She wears the pants. We’re all scared of her, so just don’t get on her bad side. We’re too much alike, and I don’t want to fight her.”
“Do you stab people too?” I ask, surprising her. Her lips turn up in a little grin, eyes sparkling.
“No, I like to slit their throats.” A man wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her back flush against his front.
“She’s a violent little thing, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Who are you?” This man is also beautiful.
With a head of thick, dark hair that’s shaved close to the sides, the top long and tied back in a high bun.
I should have been paying more attention to these club members over the years because they’ve been hiding the town’s stock of hot men.
Even if none of these men hold a flame to Crew.
“Monroe. I’m here with Crew.” The man raises his eyebrows at Crew, and I have to crane my neck to look up at Crew’s face.
“Are you here willingly?” the man asks.
“Why does everyone keep asking that? Is bringing women here against their will a common occurrence?” The man, who I assume is their president, based on who he’s got his arms around, smiles at me, nodding his head.
“Welcome to the clubhouse.”
“Thanks?”
Crew guides me inside with his palm on the small of my back. Sticky heat warms my skin quickly with the loss of fresh air from outside, and now I understand why so many people were congregating there.
The front room opens up into a large living space, with heavy wood beams creating a vaulted ceiling.
There are couches and chairs lined up against most walls, pool tables, dart boards, and a full bar.
Leather vests are everywhere I look, people hanging out and talking.
A man is standing between a woman’s legs, her ponytail wrapped around his hand as he arches her neck.
The scent of motor oil and cigarettes follows us into the house, and I don’t see how anyone could get used to it.
“This is where we all end up usually. There’s a kitchen through there.” He motions to the side behind the bar. “And a bedroom off of that. Most of the bedrooms are upstairs, but mine is downstairs. I get the basement, but it’s been nicknamed the dungeon.”
“So you all live here? Together?”
“Most of us. The ranked members do. Except for Rhys. He and Bristol just moved out into one of the houses we have on the property. They’ve got two animals and want more, so it made sense.
Chaos and Saige have a room upstairs. Wrath and Noose live upstairs, too.
Rogue lives in Aspen Ridge with his old lady, Kinsey, but you’ll meet him soon.
They come up here every other weekend or when shit goes down and we need him here.
Morgan—Rolo’s old lady— lives here, too, and probably won’t ever leave.
Just because he died doesn’t mean she doesn’t belong here.
The opposite, actually. It’s our job now to keep her safe, protect her, and make sure she knows she has a family behind her. ”
“Rolo was your friend who passed away?”
“Murdered. My friend who was murdered.”
“I’m sorry, Crew.”
He squeezes my hand but doesn’t say anything more. But I can tell there’s pain in his eyes, and I assume they were close, more so than just through the club connection. Crew leads me to a side door that opens to a set of stairs. He flicks on a light, guiding me forward to descend.
Once we’re at the bottom, there’s another door that he opens, and we file through. The lights come on, illuminating the entire basement, and I stumble slightly on my feet.
At first, I don’t know what I’m looking at.
Then it hits me. I’m not naive or innocent enough to not know what this is, but that doesn’t stop the shock from coming.
The first part of the basement has been turned into a full-on sex room.
I don’t even know the exact word for it, but I know what I’m looking at.
A large four-post bed sits in the center of the room with silky black sheets that look like you could just melt into them.
To the right is a large leather cross that fills the entire wall.
My heart stutters in my chest as I imagine what it’s used for.
On the other side of the bed is a shelf filled with whips, paddles, handcuffs in different materials, ropes, blindfolds, and a long pole.
My eyes roam everywhere, my lungs burning from lack of air.
A swing hangs in front of the bed, a small leather chaise off to the other side, a table .
. . everywhere I look, there’s something new.
Heat pools in my center, the inside of my thighs dampening through the fabric of my panties.
“Does everyone use this space?” I finally ask, breaking the silence.
“That’s your first question, pixie, really?” he laughs. “No, no one uses this space but me. It’s mine. The guys nicknamed it the dungeon.”
“So you . . . you’re into all of”—I motion around the room with my hand—“this?”
Crew runs his hand through his blond locks, shifting from foot to foot. “Yeah, I’m into all of this. My head is fucked up, Monroe. And I get all this noise, and this buildup of energy, and it needs a release. Only two things calm it. Release it. Well, it used to be two things.”
I step into his space, placing a hand over his bare chest. “Sex helps? This kind of sex? But you were so sweet and gentle with me.”
“This kind of release. Where the play goes on and on, whether I’m giving or receiving, it’s a push of my limits and the many ways to reach it. What happened with you was different, pixie. I’ve never had sex like that before.”
I can’t help the insecurities that start to creep in. My sexual experience has been with my own fingers, and now Crew. “So . . . you play down here . . . often?”
“I haven’t played with anyone since the moment I met you, Monroe. The idea of being with anyone but you makes me feel sick. But yeah, I used to play down here.”
“With those women upstairs?”
“Patch bunnies? There’s a few that have frequented, but there’s men, too. Sex to me has always been just sex, and I don’t discriminate or deny myself that pleasure in any form.”
I nod, understanding what he’s saying and not needing him to explain further. Insecurities start to creep their way in, though, like a virus poisoning me. I’m so inexperienced, and he’s clearly done everything.
“I’m not good at reading people, pixie, but I can see your face, and you look lost in that pretty little head of yours. Talk to me.”
“I want you to teach me how to be enough for you.”
“Oh, pretty, pretty girl,” he says sweetly as he pushes my hair behind my ear. Then he grabs a fistful and pulls my head backward slowly, arching my neck. He leans forward, dragging his nose up the length of my throat, inhaling as he goes.
“You’re already more than enough. Everything about you calls to me.
When I first saw you, it was just a flash of pink out of the corner of my eye, and I was a goner.
I would have followed you to the ends of the earth that day.
You’re addicting, all-consuming. I don’t know how you’ve done it, but you’ve bewitched me.
You’re the brightest star in the night sky I’ve ever seen.
You’re the sun on a cloudy day. The light to my darkness.
You, Monroe, are more than enough. You are everything.
I’m the one who isn’t worthy. All I’m asking for is a chance to bask in your warm glow for as long as you’ll let me.
I’d never hurt you, never cause you pain that you didn’t want to feel, never abandon you.
Your simple touch feels better than anything we could ever do in this room.
I’ve never needed anything in my entire life. But I need you.”
Tears spring to my eyes. “Crew,” I breathe roughly. “For a man who isn’t good with words, you just nailed it. I’m not going anywhere.”
“I know, pixie.” He says those three words with such confidence, but I know I have the choice to leave whenever I want. He’s trusting me to stay, which means more than anything else ever could.
He grabs my hand, bringing me to the other side of the room that’s separated by a long curtain. The walls are painted a deep grey, a king-sized bed sitting off to the side, farthest away from the curtain. A dresser, a door to a second bathroom, and it all dawns on me. He keeps it all separate.
“There may have been many people before you in that room, but no one’s ever been here.”
I know it’s too soon. I know it’s insane. But I’m embracing it anyway. I’m falling in love with Crew Lawson.