Chapter 10
Tyson
I had to do something to take my mind off her.
The walk to Thor's garage took every ounce of discipline I'd earned in two decades of military service.
My cock throbbed with each step, still hard enough to pound nails, and the taste of Lena lingered on my tongue like gunpowder after a firefight.
Five seconds. Five more goddamn seconds and I would have been buried inside her, making her scream my name loud enough for the whole building to hear.
Instead, I was heading to discuss party planning with a raging hard-on and her wetness still on my fingers.
Yup.
Hearing Mia talk about the bachelorette had reminded me that I needed to organize Thor’s bachelor party.
Thor's garage sat on the industrial edge of Ironridge, a converted warehouse that smelled like motor oil and male ego.
The massive rolling door stood half-open, classic rock bleeding out into the afternoon air.
Inside, fluorescent lights cast harsh shadows over the organized chaos—tool chests lined up with military precision, bike parts hanging from the walls like modern art, and in the center, Thor's current project bike stripped down to its bones.
I found them exactly where I expected. Thor was elbow-deep in the engine of a vintage Harley, grease coating his massive forearms, while Duke held a trouble light at just the right angle.
The normalcy of it felt like stepping into an alternate universe where I hadn't just had my fingers on Lena's clit, where her taste wasn't still flooding my senses, where my control wasn't hanging by a fucking thread.
"It’s your local party planner," I called out, adjusting myself as subtly as possible before stepping fully into the light.
Thor's head emerged from the engine compartment, Viking beard adorned with a streak of grease. “Party planner?”
“Right. Wedding’s coming up.” I grabbed a folding chair, straddling it backward to hide my persistent situation. "Figured we should talk before you end up at a pottery class or some shit."
"Pottery class?" Thor wiped his hands on an already-filthy rag, grinning like a kid at Christmas. "Finally! Was wondering when someone would bring this up. I've got ideas—"
"Traditional or stupid?" Duke interrupted, setting the trouble light aside with practiced ease. His eyes found mine across the garage, and I fought not to squirm under that calculating gaze.
"Knowing him, both," I said, forcing casual into my voice. "But first, ground rules. No strippers—Mia would castrate you." I paused for effect. "And us. Guilt by association."
"Actually." Thor straightened fully, cracking his back with a sound like snapping branches. "Mia and I were thinking . . . joint party?"
Well, that was a terrible idea.
Lena and alcohol and lowered inhibitions, all trapped somewhere I couldn't escape? Where I'd have to watch her dance and laugh and probably wear something that would make my current predicament look tame? Fucking disaster.
"That's . . . unconventional." My mind raced through potential catastrophes.
"Everything about us is unconventional." Thor shrugged those massive shoulders. He grabbed a beer from a mini-fridge, passed it over to me. "Besides, all our friends overlap. Seems stupid to have two parties when everyone's invited to both anyway."
"I don't know." I tried for reasonable concern as I cracked the beer. "Bachelor parties are about last night of freedom and all that symbolic bullshit. Having your woman there defeats the purpose—"
"You sound like someone who's never been in love." Duke's observation cut through my deflection like a tactical knife. He moved with that deceptive casualness that meant his radar was pinging, settling against a workbench with arms crossed.
Well, I may not be in love, but I’m fucking the woman you declared off-limits.
I wasn’t in love, was I? I couldn’t be.
Duke held my gaze for three heartbeats, then nodded slowly. But the calculation didn't leave his expression. He'd filed this moment away, another data point in whatever pattern he was building.
"So we were thinking, river cruise," Thor announced, oblivious to the undercurrents or maybe just choosing to ignore them. He pulled up his phone, scrolling through what looked like event planning sites. "Private charter, just the clubs. Music, drinks, dancing under the stars. Romantic as fuck."
"On water," I pointed out, grateful for the redirect. "Drunk bikers on water. What could possibly go wrong?"
"It's perfect," Duke agreed, his own phone already out, typing with the efficiency of a man who ran a criminal organization through encrypted messages.
"Contained environment, no civilians to scandalize, and if anyone gets too stupid we just throw them overboard.
Kind of liken natural selection in action. "
"Mia's already got the women excited," Thor continued, face lighting up with the dopey expression he got whenever he mentioned his soon-to-be wife. "She’s gonna get Lena to plan some kind of game that involves Thor trivia and shots."
I winced, the image searing into my brain—drunk Lena asking increasingly inappropriate questions while I tried to blend into the background. Drunk Lena who had no filter.
"I honestly think that maybe we should keep it separate—" I started, already knowing it was futile.
"You got a problem with Lena?" Duke's question landed like a flashbang, too casual to be anything but loaded.
"Course not." I forced my shoulders to relax, channeling the same energy I used to project during briefings when everything was going to shit. "Just thinking logistics. Crowd control, escape routes if things get heated. You know how the Serpents have been sniffing around."
"Since when do you care about party logistics?" Thor laughed, the sound booming through the garage. "Usually you're first one starting trouble. Remember last year when you convinced that prospect to—"
"Maybe I'm getting responsible in my old age," I cut him off before he could recount whatever blackmail material he was about to share.
"Bullshit," both men said simultaneously, and despite everything, I cracked a smile.
"Fine." I conceded defeat with as much grace as I could muster. "Joint party, river cruise. But I'm putting Tank on drunk patrol. Someone needs to stay sober enough to fish idiots out of the water."
"Deal." Thor agreed immediately, already back to scrolling his phone. "Now, about entertainment. I'm thinking karaoke—"
"No," Duke and I said in unison.
"Live band?"
"Better."
They spent another hour hashing out details while my mind ran tactical scenarios. Every single one ended with drunk Lena climbing me like a tree while Duke watched with those knowing eyes.
"Here, look at this beauty." Thor thrust his phone at me, grease-stained finger pointing at a sleek river cruise vessel that looked more like a floating nightclub than anything that should carry drunk bikers.
"The Moonlight Serenade. Three decks, full bar on each level, dance floor on the main deck. Holds up to two hundred."
I studied the images, each one adding another layer to my growing dread.
Glass panels everywhere—perfect for watching Lena move to music, terrible for maintaining distance.
Multiple levels meant multiple dark corners, multiple opportunities for her to corner me with that mischievous glint in her eyes.
The dance floor alone was a disaster waiting to happen.
"The captain's worked with MCs before," Duke added, still watching me with those too-knowing eyes. "No questions about colors, no issues with noise. We basically own the river for four hours."
Four hours. Trapped on a boat with Lena in whatever outfit Mia convinced her to wear, surrounded by drunk brothers who'd notice if I spent the whole time hiding in the bathroom.
My cock, which had finally started to calm down, stirred again at the thought of her in party clothes, dancing, laughing, being her chaotic self while I white-knuckled a beer and pretended not to notice.
"You alright there, Tyson?" Duke's voice cut through my spiral. "You look like someone's walking on your grave."
"Just thinking about damage control," I managed, setting the beer down before I shattered it. "Drunk people, water, competition. It's a recipe for someone doing something stupid."
"Always the voice of reason," Thor laughed, but Duke's expression sharpened.
I forced a grin. "Can't turn it off, brother. Occupational hazard."
"The boat has a VIP section," Duke mentioned casually, eyes still on me. "Upper deck, more private. Thought we'd reserve it for the wedding party."
"Good idea," I agreed too quickly. "Keep the important people contained. Easier to manage security that way."
"Security?" Duke's repetition made it sound like a foreign word. "On a private boat? With just our people?"
"Just being thorough," I said, standing abruptly. "I should head out. Got some things to handle before church tomorrow."
"Things at Lena's?" Duke's question stopped me cold.
“Well, I’m living there, so, yeah.”
Duke held my stare for a long moment, then nodded. "Drive safe, brother."
I made it to my bike before allowing myself to breathe properly.
The engine roared to life, vibration running through me like a reminder of how Lena had felt pressed against my back just hours ago.
The ride to her apartment was muscle memory now, the route carved into my brain like tactical coordinates.
I wondered how long I’d have to wait for her to arrive back.
T he apartment was dark when I slipped inside, using the spare key Lena had given me.
The living room was empty, her usual chaos of art supplies and coloring books undisturbed.
Kitchen clear. But there, starting at the hallway, a trail of red rose petals scattered across the worn hardwood like tiny strawberries.
Fuck. She was already here.