Chapter 10 #2
At the end of the day, Onyx leads me out of the office up a set of stairs that I haven’t been on yet.
The noise of the clubhouse fades the farther we go, replaced by the quiet tap of our own footsteps.
He stops in front of a plain door at the end of the hall and opens it without ceremony, stepping aside to let me go in first.
His suite is smaller than I expected, but it’s sparkling clean.
The furniture is all black leather. There is a couch and a chair, and a low table in front of them with nothing on it.
The walls are bare and there are no personal touches beyond what’s necessary to live.
It looks less like someone’s home and more like a place people hang out when they’re away from home.
“This is it,” he says simply. “I don’t need much, so I took the smallest suite.”
I walk in slowly, taking it all in. The bedroom door is visible from the main area. The layout is one bedroom, one bathroom, and no extras.
“You never decorated,” I say, not accusing.
He shrugs slightly. “Never seemed important.”
I nod, understanding what he’s saying. This space reflects the generous way he lives. All his time and energy are focused outward. He spends his time taking care of his family, his club, his brothers, and he doesn’t waste a lot of time sprucing up his private room.
“It works,” I say quietly.
He watches me for a moment, like he’s trying to gauge my reaction. “It’s always been enough for me.”
I look into his eyes and tell him, “If it’s enough for you, it’s enough for me.”
“And Frisky,” he adds.
I smile at him thinking about my cat. “I need to go and pick him up. I put out extra water and food this morning. I probably should go fetch him.”
“You relax,” he tells me. “I’ll go get him.”
“What? I can go. It won’t take a minute.”
He makes an imperious slashing motion with one hand. “No. You take it easy, you’ve had a long day.”
“I need to at least get my suitcases. They’re packed and ready.” When Queenie made me the offer, I packed everything up. Not that I had a lot of clothes. Being hidden away in the cabin most of the time means my wardrobe is pretty basic.
Before I can decide what to say, he is heading for the door. “I’ll do that. Look, I’ll be right back. Sit tight and enjoy yourself.”
I glance back at the leather couch, the empty walls, the open bedroom door. It feels cozy and intimate rather than uncomfortably cramped. And standing here, wearing his cut, in his private space for the first time, I smile to myself as I realize this is who he is when no one’s watching.
Right before he walks out the door, he turns to me. “We’re having dinner with my family,” he says. “If you’re up for it.”
He’s phrased that like a question, but I know it isn’t really optional. Not in the sense that I can’t say no, but in the sense that this is part of what stepping into his world looks like. So, I let him know, “Yeah. I’m up for it.”
I get into the shower and all I can think about is Onyx and his rough voice.
How he looks and acts like a badass overprotective biker but works in an office.
How he brings that same do or die trying energy to everything he does.
He’s doing the job of three or four people and acts like it’s no big deal.
How his tattoos crawl up out of the neck of his shirt to cover his throat, all intricate and beautiful.
And the ink decorating his big hands looks strikingly masculine.
Before I can stop myself, I close my eyes and imagine those ink-covered hands sliding over my skin, teasing my nipples and sliding between my legs to rub my clit, just like I’m doing right now.
Sparks of pleasure always come easily when I think about Onyx.
I imagine that being touched by him would be much more pleasurable than touching myself.
Onyx is all man, so he might even want to fuck an orgasm out of me.
The thought of his tongue sliding over my clit while he strokes himself to the taste of me is all I need to come so hard my knees almost come unhinged.
I stand there in his shower, surrounded by his sandalwood scented soap, trying to catch my breath and realize that I really do want him.
Maybe more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.
By the time Onyx comes back with Frisky in hand, and my luggage, I’m sparkling clean and looking as innocent as the day is long. No one would ever know that I came like the thunder thinking of my favorite neighbor.
I cuddle Frisky while he gets ready and then we’re off. His entire family stays on the upper floor of the clubhouse, but they mostly like to have dinner in the private dining space in the main room downstairs. It’s reserved for family and club officers.
The table is already half full when we arrive. Queenie looks up first, her face softening immediately when she sees me.
Rock stands from his chair without thinking about it, because he’s old-fashioned and polite that way.
For a split second, his expression shifts into something tight.
I recognize that expression. I’ve seen it before.
I look too much like my grandfather when I’m tired.
Too much like the best friend he lost two years ago.
“Emily,” Rock says, stepping forward. His eyes linger on my face a moment longer than necessary. “It’s good to see you.”
“Good to see you too,” I reply quietly.
Queenie pulls me into a hug before I can say anything else. It’s warm and familiar and smells faintly of roses. “You’re skin and bones,” she says, hands firm on my back. “We need to fix that.”
I smile despite myself because she’s always been the one who slipped me treats when I was young. Onyx wraps one arm around my waist and draws me back to his side at the table.
The rest of the table opens up as introductions happen, even though I already know most of them.
Jasper’s wife, Tessa, is glowing in a way that only a new mother can.
She smiles easily, as she discreetly nurses her baby.
Jasper hovers near, ever the proud father.
Slate’s old lady, Christina, is quieter, and keeps her small daughter close.
When she congratulates me on the job, her hand lingers briefly at her own stomach, her smile soft and private.
Clearly, she’s pregnant again. Queenie catches it immediately and beams. That makes me think that Queenie and Rock are all about seeing their little family flourish right now.
Dinner is loud, pleasant and surprisingly normal.
When plates are passed, the food is piled high.
Conversation overlaps and the men poke fun at one another.
I find myself laughing more than usual. I answer questions about my work, about the cabin and about how I’m settling in with Onyx.
No one pries into things that are uncomfortable to talk about because that would be rude.
At one point, Mica leans back in his chair and looks between me and Onyx with open amusement. “Took you long enough,” he says. “Whole club’s been waiting for you to finally make a move on your cabin girl.”
Onyx groans. “Jesus, Mica. You know I hate that damn term.”
I feel heat bloom on my cheeks, but no one laughs unkindly. Rock snorts into his drink. Queenie shakes her head like she’s been expecting this moment for years.
“It’s about time,” she says calmly. “Your grandfather would’ve liked this.”
Her softly spoken words remind me and Rock of all that we lost when my grandfather died. My chest tightens, with bittersweet acceptance. I glance at Rock, and he meets my eyes with quiet understanding.
“Having you here is a reminder of loss, yes, but it’s also about honoring the future. Family doesn’t vanish just because someone is gone.”
As the meal winds down, I realize something that startles me. I don’t feel out of place or like a guest. Sitting at this table, surrounded by people who loved my grandfather and now accept me without hesitation, I feel like I belong.
And when Onyx’s knee brushes mine under the table, I don’t pull away.