Thirty-Two
THIRTY-TWO
CHAOS
“Appreciate the hospitality,” Callum says as he takes a vacant seat on the sofa, resting his bottle on his knee. “Hope the entertainment isn’t solely for our benefit.”
I cast my gaze across the room to where the prospect he rode with disappeared under a pile of eager club pussy. “Good timing is all, brother.”
He nods, then runs an absent hand through one side of his wavy blond hair.
I realized the moment Jinx and I walked up to the guy that I’d seen him before. Our interactions with the Fallen Aces MC haven’t been much, which is strange, considering they’re one state down. But I’ve spoken with his president, King, a lot over the past few months while figuring out this supply issue.
After today, they might be steering toward a tighter working relationship with the club. Something long-term.
However you place it, the fact Callum rode through with the evidence we needed to prove those kids’ bodies weren’t put there by us indicates they see us as a worthy bedmate.
Somebody worth pulling back the veil for.
Music pounds through the speakers in the main room, members filling the shadows between the low lighting, most happy to nurse a drink while they watch our girls do their thing. I shove my drink between my legs and tap the heels of my hands on my knees, staring at Jezebel while she slowly circles a pole, but it’s not her that I see.
It’s a mass of dark hair cascading over perfect pale tits and a soft waist as Vanessa pushed my goddamn wrists above my head and told me to behave. Fuck. Now is not the time for a goddamn hard-on.
“Been on the road a while?” Yeah—I know. Awesome conversation skills. But I needed something to pull my head away from my enigma.
“Only left a few days ago, but we’ll be out for a couple of weeks.” Callum takes a pull on his beer. “Heading to Cali to see our brothers there.”
“Long days.”
“It ain’t so bad.” He rolls his head and pins me with a stare. “I’m sure you can relate.”
I wish. What kind of biker doesn’t ache for the open road? Yeah, this one. The fucker afraid of demons and dragons. “Certainly can.” I draw on the memory of the few times I was forced to ride a long way from home with my old man. To those brief pockets of respite on the long, open stretches.
The chance to let my imagination run wild.
“King mentioned your club recently moved away from hard drugs in your state,” I say. “How are you finding that?”
He huffs, thumb picking at the edge of the label. “It ain’t easy.” Callum lifts his hand, politely refusing a bunny who strokes his shoulder. “Total elimination is a dream, so when your club decides to no longer be the devil who puts that shit into the community, you become the peacekeeper fighting those who’d readily replace you. It’s not so much about stopping the use but limiting it, you get me?”
“Yeah.” Coercive control. “Our chapter made the move to strictly marijuana a decade ago, and it’s been a battle since.” Too many new faces year after year who see the gap in supply as an opportunity. Too much influence from out of state. “The fucked up thing is that people don’t feel compelled to work against it until they’ve been touched by the effects personally, you know?”
“True.” He takes another long pull of alcohol. “But there are many things in life like that, and the way I choose to see it is that I can either give up and choose complicity or do my part to fight back against the injustice.”
The man isn’t just talking about drugs anymore. “Sounds like you’ve got a lot on your mind.”
He huffs a laugh. “She ain’t a lot. Just important.”
“Old lady?”
“Not yet.” He rolls his jaw, tapping the base of the bottle on his knee. “How about you?” He tips his chin to the room. “Haven’t seen one of these girls make a move on you yet. You’re a good-looking rooster. What’s up with that? Got a woman somewhere, too?”
“None of them know about her.”
His lips split in a grin as he turns to look at me. “You dog.” He offers his bottle to tap against mine. “Best way to keep it.”
My phone weighs against my thigh, a veritable brick of temptation. “Excuse me for a bit, yeah?”
“Sure.” He nods and then rises to sort out a ruckus that breaks out over his prospect.
I take my leave, catching Jinx’s eye and giving him a tilt of my chin in acknowledgment as I weave my way through to the staircase. The information Callum brought us was enough to get us off the hook, but it was merely the beginning of something much bigger. The officers will get together for church in the morning so we can nut out the details of a ride south to talk more with King about what this means for us.
For him.
For relations between more than our two clubs alone going forward.
If we want to survive in this world, we can’t continue to run as alphas—alone and vulnerable. The clubs whose morals align need to run together as a pack. Watch out for one another. Work together.
It’s the perfect ideation of teamwork, yet I can’t shake the niggle that it could lead to something darker.
Something a lot like the conglomerate Vanessa spoke of.
Men are power-hungry by nature; it’s in our DNA to want to dominate and rule. Creating a massive network of one percenter clubs leaves us open to that temptation: greed, gluttony, and pride.
A destructive combination.
The music dulls to a muffled thud as I shut my bedroom door and set the bottle of Jack aside. I’m in no mood to drink. At least, not alcohol.
Give me the sweet honey of her cunt, however…
“Fuck.” I shove a hand through my hair and cross to the drawers opposite my bed.
I set the phone atop, propped against a leather cuff, and navigate to the security app.
The live feeds are idle, with only a couple of new clips from when she left for work and returned this afternoon. I set them playing and wander to the hook on the adjacent wall, sliding my cut from my shoulders to hang. Her muted chatter echoes around my room as she talks to Murphy, preparing her dinner. According to the time stamp, she ate almost three hours ago.
I turn and watch the screen from afar, tracking her curves as she crosses in and out of view of the camera.
My body heats, and I strip my T-shirt, tossing it to the floor before moving closer to the phone.
Vanessa stands in the middle of the room, a drink slung in one hand, elbow bent to hold it beside her shoulder. She frowns a little as she looks around the space, and I know she hunts out the camera. Murphy sits at her feet.
Her study lasts a few more minutes before she turns away with a huff and sets the glass of whatever she is drinking on the kitchen counter.
“There must be a way to figure it out,” she tells the cat.
Her back goes rigid, her head snapping up as her eyes widen. She twists at the waist and surveys the living room again, tongue peeking out to wet her lips.
I slide my hand inside the waist of my jeans, the restriction of the belt biting at my wrist as I palm my cock.
Vanessa’s hands move to the hem of her T-shirt—not one of mine, which is disappointing—and grab hold. I bite back a groan when she lifts it over her head and discards it to one side, standing in only her shorts and bra.
“You watching yet?” she taunts, seemingly looking for an indicator light.
She won’t find one. We cover those.
Her hands move behind her back, and she fidgets for a few seconds before her bra falls away. “How about now?” Lithe fingers tease at her nipples.
I don’t think she even knows she does it.
I strip my jeans and boxers to stand before the one-woman show butt naked, hand moving up and down my thickening length. If she wants to pave the way to hell, who am I to turn down the offer?
Vanessa moves, slowly wandering around the furniture to seek out the camera. Her gaze fixes right on the fucking thing, but she doesn’t realize it, moving along just as quickly to keep searching.
Back turned, she mutters a quick “Fuck it” and hooks her thumbs in her pants to drop it all.
Woman… She has me fucking rooted to the spot, hoping for more. Weeping from the tip of my dick at the possibility.
Any one of my brothers could barge in right now, and I don’t think I’d give a fuck. The Devil’s Breed themselves could hold a gun to my head, and I’d lift a finger to ask them to wait until she was finished.
“You must be watching,” she mutters, palms sliding down the outside of her hips to her thighs. “You’re always watching.” She murmurs the second line, almost indecipherable over the thud of my heart.
I swipe my thumb across the sensitive tip, fist crushing my dick as I release a shaky breath.
A notification slides down for new movement.
I can’t hit that banner fast enough to switch to the live feed.
She wanders to her kitchen, my T-shirt hanging loose on her frame. It’s almost better than seeing her naked. Almost. I’m close to climax, edging the fuck out of myself as I slow my stroke and use my free hand to send her a message.
Turn to the right and show me that pretty pink pussy.
She dashes off-screen at the faint chime, returning seconds later with the phone in her hand. Her head snaps up, looking about the room. “Is this okay?”
Perfect.
She hesitates, setting the phone down and then snatching it up again, only to discard it. Her hands slide beneath the hem of my shirt, re-emerging with her panties in her grip. My girl slides them down her legs, slow and sensual, lifting them before her and dropping the cotton to the floor. I can fucking smell it. Her desire. Her need.
“How bad do you need to see this?” Vanessa lifts the T-shirt, skimming the apex of her thighs.
I grip the head of my dick until it hurts to stave off the need to come.
I’d carve out my own heart for one more taste before I died.
She raises an eyebrow after reading the message. “Yeah?”
Feed me.
She grins, slipping her hand between her legs and rubbing small circles before lifting it to her lips. “Tastes like I need it too.” Her guttural tones nearly undo me. “Are you here? Outside right now?”
I wish.
First time I’ve been home for a night in weeks, and I’m fucking regretting the choice.
“Shame.” She steps toward where she assumes I am, a little off but not enough to ruin the view.
The heartbreaker lifts her left leg to set her foot on the arm of the chair. God damn.
“Message if you can’t see enough,” she purrs, fingers spreading her cunt wide.
I can see enough, baby. My balls draw tight, and I close my eyes briefly to take a few deep breaths. Fuck me, it’ll be gold when I finally come.
“I missed you today.” She plays with her pussy as she speaks, a slim finger dipping in and out. “Missed how you make me feel better. Calm.” She gasps, adding another digit.
How long would it take me to ride there now? Could I get there before she finishes? Could I even fucking ride straight? Pull your goddamn head in, boy. She plays a game. I change the rules, and the fantasy shatters. Make the most of what you have. I pump my dick, lip snarled as I watch her legs buckle, a second hand joining the first to rub her clit.
Damn, I bet that pretty nub is swollen. Begging to be teased with the tip of my tongue. My breaths come ragged as I stumble backward, seating my ass on the edge of the bed to lean back on one elbow.
Her breaths fill the room, matching mine as I allow myself to near completion. A little longer. Just until she?—
Vanessa cries out, a choked whimper as her orgasm hits, her legs buckling until she’s on the floor, riding her hand for the final strokes.
My head hits the bed, and my eyes close as I replay that scene over in my mind, hot spurts of cum painting my stomach in stripes when my climax hits. I’m fucking boneless, languid, hand barely moving to milk the last from me as I prop myself up and look toward the phone.
And find her gone.