Chapter 32
KNOX
Rainbow, for all he was a prick in the clubhouse the previous night, will tell anybody who’ll listen about the night he met his wife and put her on the back of his bike.
She was the wife of one of his military brothers who died in active service, and what started out as a promise to make sure the woman was okay became a lifetime infatuation with her.
But he talks about the moment he put her on his bike as prophetic.
And sitting here on my bike, with Maren’s thighs tight around my hips, her head buried against my shoulder, and her hold around my waist finally relaxing, I totally fucking get it.
Because everything about my woman feels perfect.
She hadn’t appreciated the term backpack, or me forcing her legs into jeans when she loves those denim shorts that hug her ass just as much as I do. But given she doesn’t know one end of a bike from another, I didn’t want her skin pressing up against something hot.
I’m not going at any kind of speed that would cause catastrophic injuries if we came off, for any reason, but I wanted some protection if we did.
I borrowed a shorty, a half-helmet, from Rainbow’s old lady to protect her head. And I bundled her into one of my leather jackets. It’s so big, it will likely cover her thighs too.
She squeals again and then chuckles. “Will I fly off the back if I let go?” she shouts over the wind.
I grip her hands. “Let’s save the stunt tactics until you’ve taken a few more bends.”
I booked a clinic out of town. I don’t want the people in our small town knowing our business. I’m even going to take my cut off before we head in. It’s more for Maren’s privacy than my own.
But the added benefit is the ride. As I looked at the map of places we could go to get tested, I kept picking places farther and farther afield. At first, it was for anonymity. Then, I had to admit to myself it was so we could simply enjoy being together on my motorcycle.
The only person I told was Ridge. As my road captain, he should know where we’re at. He insisted I share my location with him, given the other things that are going on with the club right now.
So that was my compromise: an afternoon of freedom with Maren, as long as Ridge can track where I am.
Not that he didn’t tease me when I told him where I was going.
But it’s worth it if I get to fuck Maren raw from now on.
I mean, if she decides to pause on the whole kids thing while we get a few more months under our belt, I get it, and I’ll wrap it up.
But the idea of sinking into her cunt, skin on skin, has my cock chubbing up in my jeans.
Yet, the cruder thoughts don’t hang around long.
Not with Maren pressed against my back, and me giving her her first ride on a bike.
I ease the bike down the long stretch of road that cuts through the backcountry, the world opening up around us in a way that always makes me feel like I’m the only person here. Everything feels untouched.
Wild.
Water glints through gaps between cypress trees. The sun is low and gold in the sky. Spanish moss hangs and sways in the gentle breeze.
I don’t have to be anybody except myself out here. There’s just the throaty hum of the engine, and the soft shift of Maren’s body against mine as we lean into a curve.
Her helmet knocks lightly against my head as she rests her chin on my shoulder. I slide a hand off the handlebars, for a second, reaching back to squeeze her thighs, then run my hand down her calf.
“You okay” I ask.
“Yes. I think I like this. I’d hate the highway, but this…it’s like a different world view.”
A grin pulls at my mouth. “Yeah. It is. I knew you’d love it.”
The only thing that would make my day better is if she was wearing my cut. I’ve been thinking about it all day. Maren in a Property of Knox patch would be a sight to see.
She got on my bike today, fighting her fears, not knowing how to ride, and trusted me to keep her safe through it all.
And now, she’s leaning into me like she’s ridden a thousand times before.
We ride like that, for a while, as the sun dips lower.
Gratitude isn’t something I think a lot about. I’ve worked for every goddamn thing I’ve built and own. If I’m grateful for anything, it’s for my own two hands and my resilience and my ability to think and lead. There’s no mysterious entity dishing out good fortune.
And if there is, he’s a cunt, making billionaires richer while kids starve.
So, it’s a rare feeling when gratitude blossoms inside my chest. That I’m grateful the universe decided to throw Maren and me together like it did. Because I would have gone my whole lifetime without experiencing the rightness of this moment.
By the time the clinic comes into view, a part of me almost regrets it, because it means pulling the bike over and breaking the spell we’re under.
I slow us down, gravel crunching beneath the tires as I do, and kill the engine.
Silence drops heavily around us without the drone of the engine.
“Wow,” Maren says. “It’s wild how you eventually settle into the noise of the bike and forget it’s even there until you turn it off.”
“You okay?” I ask, encouraging her to use my shoulder for support as she swings her leg over the back of the bike. I grab her bicep when she wobbles as she lands.
“Ah. No. My legs don’t seem to be working properly.”
She places her palm on my thigh as she regains her balance, but her laughter brightens her whole face. I grab my phone real quick and take a photo of her. The first one I’ll have of many.
“Wait, what are you doing?”
“Think it’s obvious. I just took your photograph. You look real pretty when you laugh.”
She stamps a foot. “Oh my God. I need to get a spine.”
Now, I laugh. “What do you mean by that?”
“You keep saying things, and I keep melting.”
Confused, I pull her to me. “Isn’t that the way it’s supposed to be?”
“No, I’m supposed to set boundaries. Like, tell you to ask me if you want to take my photo.”
I kiss her tenderly. “Who the fuck came up with these boundaries you’re supposed to enforce? I want a picture of your pretty face, one I can look at when I’m away so when I’m fucking my own hand, I don’t have to imagine your smile. What’s the problem with that?”
“See?” she says, throwing up her hands. “Hi, I’m Maren. I’m an ice cube that turns into a puddle every time my boyfriend says not-suitable-for-work sweet things. Pleased to meet you.”
“Dork.” I reach for the zipper of the jacket and slip it off her shoulder. Then, I shove it and my own cut into one of the panniers on the bike.
“Why did you remove it?” Maren asks as I take her hand and walk into the clinic with her.
“Figured you might want some privacy about this. And my cut makes me recognizable and public.”
She stops and turns to face me with an indignant look on her face. “You just need to stop talking, right now. You won all the brownie points already, and now, you just sound like a try-hard.”
I squeeze her hand. “I love you too, sweetheart.”
The tests are quick and efficient. Different antiseptic smelling rooms, different nurses. Same prick in the arm and then Band-Aid. I paid extra for us to get the results fast, but that still means two days for a full spectrum.
I’m out, first, but in fairness, I didn’t talk much with my nurse.
Maren, on the other hand, walks out talking to the nurse like they’re long-lost besties.
“You good?” I ask when she makes it to me.
“I am. Thank you for not making a big deal out of doing this.”
I take her hand and place a kiss on her knuckles. “Sweetheart, you’re gonna have to get used to the idea that you could pretty much ask for the moon and I’d give it to you. You feel like coming back to my place for the night?”
“The clubhouse?” she asks, and I hear the hint of wariness in her tone.
I shake my head. “No. My house.”
“Can we stop by my place so I can get some things?”
“Sure.”
The ride home is…complicated. I want to focus on the view. I want to enjoy the feel of the wind on my face and the fresh air. I want to savor this as our first journey together, regardless of what the journey was for.
Instead, I battle waves of arousal. The way Maren’s tits press against my back as we lean together to take the bends. The sound of her laughter sparks straight to my balls. How she holds on to me like she loves me.
Fucking loves me.
I feel like I’m living in some alternate universe where Knox gets the happy ending he never saw coming.
We stop by her place to pick up some things, which also included her truck because she wants to be able to get back to the shop in the morning. I told her I’d take her; she insisted she’d see herself home. I guess Little Miss Independent is going to have to ease into letting me help her.
But it didn’t seem like a battle I would win, and quite frankly, I didn’t want to fight with her.
Not tonight, when the bond between us feels thick and meaningful.
We make it to my house, and I feel the same kind of ease that always fills me when I pull up at the small garage and boathouse. It’s about fifty meters from the house, which splits the difference between being on land and in water.
“Oh my God, it’s beautiful,” Maren says as her eyes track the height of the thick stilts it stands on. The wood is sun-faded and weathered, but every inch of it was built to last. It’s survived many hurricanes and will outlast me.
Birds chirp, there’s the sound of the breeze rustling leaves, but other than that, it’s silent.
“Should see it at dusk when the sun hits the water.” I’ll sit on the wraparound porch with a beer and watch the sun go down. Some days, when the weight of being a president gets to me, when the choices I have to make are too complicated, I might even still be sitting there when the sun comes up.
The swamp stretches out behind the house in long channels, broken up by the cypress trees that rise through it. Spanish moss hangs from the branches.
Everything out here feels safe.
“Let’s get you inside.”
“Can I just…” She throws her arms around me, holding on to me so tightly, I can barely breathe.
I don’t know why she’s doing it, or what she really wants and needs in this moment, so I just follow her lead. Holding her tightly as she burrows against me.
I’ve never brought a woman here.
This is my sanctuary.
The place where I come when I need to escape the pressures of my life. And I’m so glad I never have, because standing with Maren makes me realize I’ve been saving this for her.
Her eyes lift to mine, dark and uncertain.
Not shy.
If I’m not mistaken, she’s as aroused as I felt on the ride with her.
I wonder if it’s the untapped edge I caught a glimpse of beneath the clubhouse. Since it happened, I’ve wondered if I pushed her too far, if it was too much. But maybe there’s more to Maren’s sexuality than she’s explored.
She lifts onto her toes and presses her lips to the underside of my jaw.
“If you want dinner, this isn’t going to make it happen,” I say.
She hums like she doesn’t believe me. Her fingers hook lightly into my belt, just for a second. I feel the tug on it throughout my whole body.
“Maren,” I warn.
She tilts her head, smiling coyly, trying to pretend she doesn’t know what she’s doing. “What?”
“You’re playing a dangerous game.”
“I am?”
I grip the edges of the leather jacket she’s wearing, pulling tight so she lifts onto her toes again, and kiss her fiercely.
I can feel my control slipping in ways I don’t usually allow. “I was going to be a gentleman,” I say. “I was gonna cook. Feed you. Run you a bath and give you a minute to come down from the ride.”
She worries her lower lip. “And now?”
“Now, you’re making it real hard.”
She slides her hand between us and rubs my cock through the denim. “I can see that.”
“Maren,” I say again, this time, it’s sharper, more urgent.
Her eyes are bright with something wild and curious and reckless.
I have no idea how much space she’s giving me to be reckless with her. “You keep teasing me like this, you better run.” I tip my chin in the direction that leads deeper into my property.
Her breath catches, pink heats her cheeks.
Then…
“Count to ten,” she says, before sprinting in the direction I told her.