Chapter Twenty Four
Sophie draped over the sofa, half propped up on her elbows.
She glanced at me over her shoulder, her eyes not really focusing, lids half-closed.
Still on all fours, her arse pointed up towards me, the inside of her thighs glistening with my cum and her own wetness.
It dribbled down the leather from where she’d squirted again as I fucked her.
She breathed hard still, and I watched her tits bob as her chest moved.
Her hips swelled out at the sides, full and well covered.
Her flesh had bulged deliciously under my fingers as I’d grabbed her hips and pulled her onto my cock.
In front of me she sighed, pushing up onto wobbly legs, and then collapsing back onto the sofa.
“Steady, Soph,” I said as she rolled onto her back, luscious tits billowing across her chest, her nipples still erect.
I bent down, scooping my arms under her and pulling her into my chest.
“Ryan?”
“Bedtime, Grey.”
“Where?”
“My bed.”
“Oh…”
Sophie shivered against my chest, her skin hot to the touch, but the air around us was cold and growing colder. The house needed updating, desperately, but with my time mostly at the clubhouse or on the road, it had never been my priority.
I nudged the duvet back with the tips of my fingers, sliding Sophie across to the middle of the bed and climbing in after her.
For a moment she didn’t move, but then I felt her body relax and she shuffled back into me, her arse pressing into my groin.
Pressing my eyes closed, I took two deep breaths.
One to still my cock, the other to stop my heart pounding against her.
I didn’t want to fuck her again just yet.
Not just yet. I wanted to feel this. Having her in my bed. In my arms. Her body against mine.
She still smelt warm. Remnants of perfume fading, bleeding into the heat of her skin, the scent lighter.
Soft salt and something deeper. A hint of before we started.
I pulled her closer, my fingers splayed over her stomach.
The movement chased the scents. Musk now.
Something warm and earthy. The mix of us both between our legs.
“Ry?” her voice was faint as she fought sleep.
“Yes, darlin’?”
“I’ve never been to your house before.”
“I know, Soph. Back then…”
“You were worried I’d think less of you?”
“Yeah. Your place was so posh. Massive. You even had a garden. I just lived in my Granda’s box room.”
“I wouldn’t have cared. I never did then.”
“Do you now?” I felt my chest tighten as I asked.
“I don’t and never did care where you came from, Ry.”
“We didn’t have much, me and Granda. Not like you.”
“I know.”
“He left me this place in his Will, you know?” Sophie’s head ducked down, dusting over my forearm in a brush of a kiss.
“We hardly had two pennies to rub together when I was young. When he died, he had nothing. But this place. Mam tried to challenge the Will. Challenge the fucking roof over my head. She would have won if the club hadn’t stepped in while I was in prison. ”
“The club helped?”
“Yeah. That’s how it works. It was my second stint.
I’d only just gone down. Granda had died a few months previous.
When the Will was read, Mam was pissed. He’d left her nothing.
But he had nothing to fucking leave, apart from this place.
Indie and Ste. They appointed a solicitor to act for me.
I had no money. I still don’t. But through them, through the club, they fought it for me.
Probably would be homeless now if it wasn’t for them. ”
“That sounds…nice,” she responded, tiredness in her voice.
“You don’t sound convinced.”
“It’s not that, it’s just…”
“Your dad?”
“I guess. When we were together back then. He talked to me a lot about motorcycle clubs. What they get up to. Things they do. You were hanging around with the Northern Kings then, weren’t you?”
“Yeah. Me and Demon. Granda knew them all. We all did round here. Still do. But yeah, Demon was a good mate. I admired what he had. He wasn’t club then.
Even though he’d almost been bred for it.
Still had to prove himself even though he was the president’s son.
But he had family. The club around him. Here, it was just me and my Grandad. ”
“What happened to your mam?” Sophie asked, hugging my arm into her.
“OD’d when I was inside. Been in a year or two by then. Could never keep off the shit. I didn’t go to her funeral. Didn’t want to. I didn’t owe her anything. She’d never been family.”
I paused, stroking my hand over her stomach. Listening to the sound of her breathing. It grew shallower. Her tits moving up and down with her chest, the smell of something faintly fruity from the hair that brushed over my face.
Closing my eyes, I breathed deeply. This could all be gone in a second.
Like it had all those years back. And that fear crept right up inside me, settling into my chest, squeezing round my ribs like a vice.
I stroked a hand over her hip, feeling the bulge of one half of the hourglass figure she’d developed over that time, and my mind wandered off to what could be. What should have been.
I was just drifting off when I heard them. Motorbikes. Deep and rhythmic. My heart jolted from where it had been gradually slowing. The pace gathering into something urgent. The rumbles grew louder. Getting closer.
I was up before I’d even thought it through, the shift from warm to cold instant. Every sense snapped awake. Listening. Counting. One bike… two. Not hanging back. Not creeping. Coming straight in.
My jaw tightened, eyes flicking to the window, then back to her. Still asleep. Still soft.
Fuck. Could be ours. Could be them. I reached for a pair of shorts on the top of a pile of clothes on an armchair in the bay window, stepping into them quickly.
The engines cut suddenly, right outside. Too close. I moved to the windows, creeping against the wall, nudging the heavy curtain aside and peeking through into the badly lit street.
Chaos. And Carnage.
The front door opened with a soft click before I stepped outside, bare feet hitting the cold concrete. Chaos and Carnage stood by their bikes like they owned the street. Engines ticking as they cooled, heat still rolling off them into the night air.
“You’re hard to get hold of,” one of them muttered, pushing off his bike.
I dragged a hand down my face, the last of the calm burning off.
“You’d better have a fucking good reason for turning up here.”
“You didn’t answer your fucking phone, that’s what.”
Shit. It was in my jacket pocket on the lounge floor.
“Sorry, bud,” I backed down.
“Well dinnae leave us on the fucking doorstep. Shit’s cold out here.”
“Pussies,” I grumbled, stepping aside and letting the brothers dim into the house. “Sophie’s asleep. Don’t fucking wake her,” I growled as heavy boots stomped on the fake wood floor.
“How come. Did you fucking bore her to death?” one of them jibed, running a hand through floppy blond hair.
“Least I don’t have to take turns just to make her come. Now, why are you two fucking here?”
“Those bikes outside Sophie’s place. The Notorious. We caught up enough to see their patches.”
“And did you catch up enough to have a discussion about turning up at Sophie’s door.”
One of them shook his head. “Nah. We were intercepted.”
“What do you mean, intercepted?”
“The Hand. Fuckers came at us from the west, like they expected us to be there. Indie reckons that had been the plan all along. Draw us out there. Take us out on the road.”
“Fuck.” I pushed a hand through my hair where it now lay loose around my shoulders.
“Mate. There’s something else…”
I felt the atmosphere tilt then, and the other twin shifted.
Chaos. Now I knew which fucker was which.
He hadn’t said a word yet. Just stood there, weight settling back on one leg, arms loose at his sides like he was relaxed.
But I saw it. The slight tension in his shoulders.
The way his eyes tracked me, not the room.
Not the door leading out into the hallway, and the room where Sophie lay sleeping. Me.
Comfortable enough to be here. Not comfortable enough to forget what I was.
“Fucking spit it out,” I snapped.
“Sophie…”
“Sophie, what?”
“You sure you trust her?”
My jaw tightened.
“This about her dad?”
A look passed between them.
“Ex-copper,” Chaos shrugged. “Not just any, either. You know what he was like with clubs. Still drinks with half the force. Still has ears in places we don’t.”
“And you think she’s what? Feeding him?” My voice dropped, colder now.
“We’re saying it’s a risk,” Carnage cut in, stepping forward. “You’ve got the Notorious sniffing round her house. The Hand waiting on the road like they knew we’d be there. And now she’s in your bed.”
I held his gaze. Didn’t move.
“The club had a leak before she ever came back,” I said, slow, deliberate. “Before she stepped foot anywhere near us. So don’t start tying her into something that was already there.”
Silence settled for a moment.
“She’s not that,” I added, quieter, but no less certain.
Chaos scrubbed a hand over his jaw, exhaling.
“Aye… alright, mate. We’ll follow your judgement.” He glanced at Carnage. “Magnet said the same to Indie anyway. But you know what Barry the Blade’s like.”
I did.
And that was the fucking problem.