17. Taylor
Chapter seventeen
Taylor
It’s late when Player and I ride to his clubhouse.
It’s not the same one I remember from when Player and I dated. After the bombing, Gage moved them to this new location. It’s hidden deep in the countryside.
We pull up at a chained gate. A prospect lets us through, and Player rides us up a dirt drive that leads to a gravel lot surrounding a long industrial building. It’s brick with multi-paned windows. A set of skylights runs the peak of the rooftop right down the center.
Player stops, and I climb off the back. The last time we were here, Player told me it was once an abandoned aircraft hangar.
Gage liked the land that came with it, and he sunk a fortune into remodeling the place.
Now, it’s the ultimate biker retreat—with polished concrete floors, industrial luxury, and a space built for the brotherhood and the MC lifestyle.
We walk inside. The main room is long, and eight windows run along the right and left sides with skylights overhead.
At the far end is a huge big-screen TV with leather seating around it.
A bar takes up the left wall and a couple of pool tables run opposite.
There are only a couple of prospects and one patched member inside.
A separate hallway leads to a maze of other rooms that Gage had added on, including another room with an upscale bar with tables and games, and a hall with their church meeting room, Gage’s office, a kitchen and dining area and bedrooms for all the officers.
With my hand in his, Player leads me down the hall to his room and unlocks the door. The room is neat and clean, and I know they have girls to keep it this way.
He’s got a bed, a couple of nightstands, a tallboy dresser, a chair, a small closet and an attached bathroom. I know his room is larger than most, since he’s the VP.
The only one larger is Gage’s at the end of the hall. I’ve never been inside it, but I know his suite takes up the entire end of the hall.
I drop my sling bag on the bed, and Player wraps his arms around me from behind, nuzzling my ear. “You hungry? We could go raid the kitchen.”
“I could eat.”
“Come on.” He snags my hand and leads me down the hall, backtracking to the kitchen. There’s a huge industrial fridge, and he peers inside. “Looks like Pearl made her famous chili.”
“Sounds great.” I remember Pearl from the old days. She’s the widow of an older member who died years ago.
Player pulls out the pot, and we heat portions in the microwave, then carry them into the dining room and sit at the end of the big, long table.
I moan around my first spoonful. “Mmm. So good.”
Player grins. “Mama Pearl sure can cook, can’t she?”
“You guys are lucky to have her.”
“We are. Dad makes sure she knows this place would fall apart without her. After her ol’ man died, and the bank foreclosed on their house, Gage moved her into the clubhouse.
She’s been here ever since. Now she keeps all the club girls in line, makes sure the place gets cleaned, and cooks.
She takes care of “her boys” as she calls us.
“I bet the prospects love her.”
“Yeah, some of those boys wouldn’t eat if she didn’t make sure they were fed.”
“Where is she now?”
“She’s got her own space down the hall from my father’s. Even got her own little sitting room.”
“He really takes care of her, doesn’t he?”
“She’s like family. When Cooter died, the MC was there for her. Taking care of us makes her happy. She says she likes to feel needed, so it all works out.”
I study the man. He won’t say it, but I know she was there for him when he lost his own mother. “I’m glad you have her.”
His eyes connect with mine. “Wish you would have stayed in town. I could have used a good friend like you.”
“I couldn’t. It was too painful. I hated the club back then.”
“And now? You still hate us?”
I don’t want to lie to him, and when my eyes drop away, he has his answer.
“We got your brother killed. I get you hate us for that. I’m sorry, Taylor. I wish every day I could bring him back for you. I wish I could bring them all back.”
I cover his hand. “I know you aren’t to blame. He chose this life. He knew the risks.”
Something flashes in his eyes. “I know the risks, too. Maybe that’s why I hate pulling you back into this life. Maybe I should end it, but goddamn it, Taylor, I need you. I guess that makes me a selfish son-of-a-bitch, doesn’t it?”
“I’m here because I want to be. No matter how much I try to fight it, you will always be the one for me. There wasn’t a day I was gone I didn’t miss you, that I didn’t wish things could be different. But you ended us without a thought to what I wanted.”
His gaze drops to the table. “I’m sorry, Tay. I made a mistake—one I wish I’d never made. I’d take it back if I could.”
“But why, Josh? You never gave me a reason.”
The way he locks eyes with me, I know he’s weighing how much to tell me.
“Was it another girl?”
“No,” he replies sharply. “Never.”
“You rebounded so fast, you made my head spin. And you married Debbie so quickly.”
“I loved her. I did, but not the way I loved you, Tay. She was a way to get over you, and then it just got easy.”
“That’s a bullshit explanation.”
“You don’t want to know the real reason.”
“Maybe you should let me decide what I do and don’t want to fucking know,” I snap.
His gaze shifts, and he takes my hand, rubbing his thumb over my knuckles. “Fine. Maybe you deserve the truth; I just hope it doesn’t cause you more pain.” He squeezes my hand. “Your brother gave me an ultimatum. I give you up or he’d never vote me in. It was you or my patch. I couldn’t have both.”
“And you chose the patch.”
“Back then, the club was everything. My father had expectations, and—”
“Don’t put this on your father. You made the decision to end us; not him.”
“You’re right. I did. I own that. I don’t regret being a patched member.
I regret letting Dozer hold this damn patch over my head.
I’ve wondered a million times if I made the wrong decision.
This club is everything to me. I can’t imagine not having that patch on my back, but it cost me you, and I fucking hate that.
But in the end, maybe Dozer saved your life.
If we’d stayed together, maybe it would have been you with my mother that day.
And goddamn, babe, I can’t bear the thought of losing you. ”
His eyes glaze, and I know he’s giving me a lot by admitting all this. I haven’t been the only one in pain. We both have. “So, where does it all leave us?”
My words are soft, but there’s a shred of hope in them.
He brings my hand to his mouth and kisses it.
“It’ll kill me to give you up again, but if you hate the MC, I don’t see a path for us.
The Kings of Anarchy are a part of me, burned into my soul, but so are you, Taylor.
I swear to you, if you trust me, I’ll burn the fucking town to the ground before I let anyone hurt you again. Me included.”
He means it. Every word. I know him well enough to know that.
He makes me feel safe and protected and…
loved. I’m just terrified he’ll change his mind and send me away again.
Maybe because he thinks he’s protecting me from the danger of the club.
I don’t know if I’d survive that again. The last time sent me into a spiral of depression, and I never want to go there again.
“If we’re in this, Player, we’re in this together. It’s the only way this works. If you want me to trust you, you can’t hide stuff from me.”
“As long as it isn’t club business, you got my word.”
What a hypocrite I am, making him swear that to me, when I’m hiding the biggest secret of all.
He carries our bowls to the sink, then turns and lifts me, plopping me on the stainless countertop.
I squeal. “What are you doing?”
“Showing my baby what she means to me.” With that, he steps between my knees and kisses me.
Soon, he’s reaching for my shirt, and his hand slide under the hem to close over my satin bra.
He squeezes my breasts. A moment later, my shirt is over my head and dropped on the counter next to me.
He tugs my bra down, and his mouth closes over one taut nipple.
He sucks hard and my back arches, offering myself up.
I hear a sound in the hall and stiffen. Player straightens, chuckling. “You feelin’ shy?”
“I don’t want someone coming in here,” I hiss.
He pulls my shirt out of my reach, teasing me. “But babe, you’ve got such pretty tits.”
“Give me my shirt or you’re dead,” I hiss.
He laughs and tosses it to me.
I tug my bra up and jerk the shirt over my head.
Player scoops me up with his hands on my ass, and I cling to him as he walks me out of the kitchen. “Come on. I want to show my baby what she means to me.”
I cling to him, burying my face in his neck as we pass a prospect.
“You didn’t see a thing, prospect. Got that?” Player barks and flings his door open.
“Yes, sir, VP,” he replies as he moves off.
Player kicks the door shut with his boot and carries me to the bed.
In a matter of seconds, he’s got me naked and on the corduroy bedspread.
His hard body presses on me as he covers me. He’s fully clothed and I’m naked, and the power dynamic is clear. Player’s mouth trails a heated path from my ear down my neck, across my chest, and then climbs each breast to give them equal attention.
My fingers thread through his hair, enjoying every moment. His journey continues, and his mouth moves over my flat belly, blazing a trail down my body.
Player slides off the end of the bed, his knees to the floor, and he drags me to the edge, parts my knees and spreads my thighs wide.
At the first brush of his thumb over my pussy, I jerk with the tingling jolt of sensation.
"I want to taste your pussy," he breathes. The way his voice sounds, taut with need, pulses through my body, pulling a response like I'm his to command, his to do with whatever he desires. I feel another rush of wetness.
Two fingers dip into my wet entrance, and he groans. He brings the wetness up to lubricate my clit as he circles it.