Wilson 6.
She’s magnificent. I knew she would be, but to see it in person, to witness it with my own two eyes, to smell her fire and feel the heat of her body…Jesus.
Impassioned and dedicated. She truly believes in this cause. Adams may have been joking, but he’s right, where do we sign up? We were already on board, at least with a monetary donation, maybe a few items for the auction. However, when I tear my eyes from hers long enough to look at my brothers, I know they will be volunteering whenever they can, and it will become a club mandate. My brain synapses start firing from all the ways we can contribute to the fundraiser and the multiplex when it’s built.
Madison’s gaze clashes with mine and he dips his chin subtly in approval. I fight my smile, losing that fight when he crosses his eyes and sticks out his tongue at me like a five-year-old.
“Hayden Powell, don’t be teasing anyone with that tongue. It belongs to me.” Betty, Madison’s Ol’ Lady rounds our table and plops right down in her man’s lap. They kiss, a little more forcefully than necessary in public, while Stacy kisses Hayes’ cheek and takes the seat next to him. He wraps his arm around the back of her chair and pulls her close.
“Matilda, Tybalt, meet Betty Powell and Stacy Cruz, the real brains and brawn behind the Congressionals MC.” I wave at the two women with a flourish, earning a snort from Adams.
Betty releases Madison’s tongue and grins at me. “Thank you, Wilson, you’ve always been my favorite.” She slides off her husband’s lap into her own seat and slaps the table. “What’d we miss?”
“Only the most inspirational speech since Independence Day.” Tybalt smirks at his sister who blushes instantly. It’s adorable on her caramel complexion. He leans across the table with his hand out, shaking first Betty’s then Stacy’s hands. “I’m Tybalt Mazekat, and this is Matilda.”
“Siblings?” Betty arches a brow at the pair.
“Yes, ma’am.” Tybalt answers quickly.
“Are you both single?”
Tybalt swallows audibly, exchanging a look with his sister before nodding, “Yes?”
Betty, smelling blood in the water, pins him with a stern stare. “Are you sure?”
“We are both single, ma’am. Though I’m not sure what relevance that bears on our meeting?” Tilly arches a brow of her own at Betty and we all wait in tense silence as Betty sizes up the newcomer.
A few seconds later, Betty’s entire demeanor changes, she smiles girlishly, her eyes bright. “You can talk about the gritty details later; Stacy and I have been tasked with finding out if we have time to commission custom dresses or if we have to buy off the rack and have them tailored?”
My mind short circuits when Tilly’s head falls back, and she laughs with her entire body. It’s a sight to behold and I’m suddenly pissed off that anyone else can see her. I like her. A lot. Too much too soon, maybe. But so far, I can’t find a thing to dislike.
“Do you have nice feet?” My mouth goes rogue while my brain reboots, and the entire table stops and stares at me. Stacy and Betty in horror. Tybalt in anger. Madison and Hayes are laughing silently. And Adams just shakes his head at me. But Tilly…she bites her bottom lip, her cheeks heating, and her eyes dancing with humor.
“Why do you ask?” I’m impressed she is able to push that out, her voice is so tight.
“Because…because…I’m trying to…”
“He’s trying to find a flaw.” Stacy pats my shoulder in commiseration, then she smacks the back of my head. “He’s just being fucking creepy as hell about it.”
“A flaw?” Tilly questions softly, her eyes earnestly begging for an explanation.
“I can provide a list, if you’d like.” Tybalt offers with a shit-eating grin aimed at his sister. When he looks back at me, that grin slips into a scowl.
Tilly focuses on the papers in front of her, shuffling through them frantically. “Here…uh…here is a projected schedule leading up to the fundraiser itself. And contact information for Tybalt, me, the chairman of Building A Village, their local point of contact, and their security.” She pulls out a pen, avoiding eye contact with me. I grin to myself. “Do you have any questions for us?”
“Wilson did his homework. We checked out everyone involved, and it appears on the up and up. We will take this back to the club and compile a list of auction items to donate. In addition, we’ll need to reserve two tables—”
“That’s $16,000!”
“Yes, dear. I might be the President of a motorcycle club, but I am decent at math.”
“I meant no disrespect—” Madison holds up his hand to stop her.
“I know you didn’t. Two tables. We’d also like to extend our services to provide additional security for the event. I understand that the charity provides its own, but we’d feel more comfortable if our men were on site, given the high-value of our donations alone.”
My stomach sours when Tybalt and Tilly look at one another. He shakes his head, she growls, he rolls his eyes, and she kicks his shin. Tybalt shifts in his chair to face the rest of the table, “We’ll have to confer with the charity’s security team. I do not…think…your services will be required.”
“You’ll take our money but not our protection.” Adams states in a hard tone.
Tilly smacks her brother’s hand when he tries to stop her, “We welcome your offer of protection. And will utilize your services wherever we can, however, our contract with Building A Village, stipulates they provide security from the time the first auction item is dropped off to the last one is picked up after the event.”
“We understand. Wilson?” I nod to Prez and pluck a piece of paper from the inside pocket of my kutte. “That is our contact information, the businesses we own so you don’t need to call any of them looking for donations, and a check for our tables.”
Tybalt sucks in his breath, “Do you own half the business in town?”
Hayes rocks his head back and forth. “About a third.”
“Tybalt. Matilda.” Madison brushes his hands down his thighs, then stands up and holds a handout for Betty. “We are invested in Independence, Kentucky. Its success, its prosperity, and its people.”
“But everyone speaks so badly about you…” Tilly trails off, her hand covering her mouth when she realizes what she said. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be, it’s the truth. Not many people around here understand us. Who we are, what we stand for, what we’ve been through. And honestly, it doesn’t bother us much. We know exactly who we are. We’ll be in touch.” He knocks his knuckles on the table three times and escorts Betty out, Hayes and Stacy following them.
Adams offers a friendly smile at Tilly, “This is a cause we can get behind. Thank you for including us, Matilda.” He nods at Tybalt, holding out his hand for a shake. “Nice to meet you, Tybalt. Don’t piss her off, young man, she might be your sister, but she’s the only reason you’re getting our money.” With an evil chuckle, Adams leaves as well.
“What?”
“Go wait outside, Tybalt.” I command, my eyes glued to Tilly.
“What? No. I’m not leaving her with you alone.”
“We aren’t alone, we’re in a public place with plenty of witnesses.”
“I’m not—”
“Tybs, I’ll be out in a minute.” Tilly interrupts him, her eyes never leaving mine.
“Tilly—”
With a huff, Tilly breaks our stare-off and shoos her brother aways from our table. “Go, Tybs, go.”
“I’m not a dog!”
“I know, they listen.” She mutters.
“I’m only going as far as the bar.” Dammit, he’s hard to dislike with the way he protects her. Still, I want a moment alone with her.
He stomps off and the moment her eyes meet mine, I wind my arm around her slender waist and pull her into my body. “Tilly.” I whisper, my other hand fingering a lock of her dark hair, so soft. She’s the girl-next-door, if I lived next to India, but her beauty is soft and subtle. Truthfully, it’s her eyes, even in her driver’s license photo there was something that intrigued me. A glint in her brown irises. In person, she’s a firework, unassuming until she’s lit and then she lights up my whole damn sky.
“I don’t want to be one of those girls…”
“Which girls?” I whisper, inching closer to her lips, consumed with the need to know what they taste like.
“We can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because…Because…” I swipe my mouth over hers, barely making contact. But it’s enough to feel the bolt of electricity down my spine. She whimpers and my control snaps. I fuse my mouth to hers, my tongue licking across the seam of her lips. She opens tentatively, just enough for me to slip my tongue inside her mouth. Warm. Wet. Sweet like her soda, but probably natural. The tip of her tiny tongue finds mine and the contact has my cock hardening painfully fast.
“Wilson.” She breaks the kiss, pulling back with rapid breaths, her eyes wide. “The fundraiser.” I nod, not fully understanding where she’s going with this. “We’ll be working together. It wouldn’t be right.” I chuckle, dipping my mouth to her neck and ghosting my lips up her silky-smooth skin.
“Wouldn’t be right?”
She sighs, her eyes wary, “I’m new here. I want to complete this fundraiser with my integrity intact and unquestionable.”
“And you think dating me will tarnish your reputation?” I ask bitterly, my happy mood dropping as quickly as my erection. “Me or a biker?”
“What? No! No, no, no.” She shakes her head rapidly, her hands coming up to cup my cheeks. “A donor. You and your club are going to be a large donor for this event. It seems…unethical.”
My anger lessens at her explanation. “So, if we were, let’s say, married, you wouldn’t have let my employer donate because you think it’s a conflict of interest?”
“Huh.” She rocks back on her heels, her hands dropping to my shoulders and digging into the meat. “That’s a good point.” She hums, her eyes distant as she works something out in her head. “Ok. Friends…for now.” I shake my head with a silly grin. She’s cute to think either of us can resist this chemistry for that fucking long. “We’ll date, get to know one another, and then after the fundraiser is over—”
“You’re mine.”