7. Ash
ASH
I have another fucking dream about him.
Waking up hot, sweaty, and hard is becoming a regular occurrence, and I’m not sure whether to be appalled or embrace the amazing orgasms that always follow, because dream Callum gets me going like nobody I’ve ever fucked in real life.
How unfair is that?
Cock already in hand, I close my eyes again, give in, and go with it.
It’s a waste of time trying not to picture the man himself, so I don’t bother.
I imagine him in all his tattooed, bike-riding, leather-clad glory.
Dark eyes that never fail to stir something inside me that makes my stomach clench and my heart race.
He’s so fucking hot.
Even when he’s scowling at me.
Especially when he does that.
Dream Callum doesn’t scowl though. No, he’s all lazy smiles and easy warmth.
A look I’ve never once seen on his face in real life, so I don’t know how I conjured that up.
I like it though, obviously. It softens all those rough edges enough for me to imagine us together.
That he’d look at me like I’m something he wants rather than a problem he needs to deal with.
I recall my dream as best I can. The way he laughed as I pinned him to the bed. The hungry, feral look in his eyes as he flipped us and slid down my body, trailing filthy wet kisses over every patch of skin within reach.
Warm breath ghosting over my cock, the imagery so real I can almost feel it.
I shiver, my hand tightening as he pauses, then looks up at me.
There’s a wildness to him, almost otherworldly as his eyes meet mine and he grins.
Heat floods me, lighting up my veins, and as he lowers his head, tongue flicking out, I come.
Hard.
Spilling over my stomach and my hand until I let out a shaky breath and sink back onto my bed.
Fucking hell.
I didn’t even get to the good part.
Dream Callum is a master at sucking cock. It’s no wonder I’m always on edge whenever I wake up. The rush of endorphins slowly fades, leaving behind the familiar embarrassment and a teeny bit of shame.
I send up a silent prayer to a god I don’t really believe in. Please don’t let me run into him anytime soon. I have a shit poker face. I’ll never be able to look him in the eye and not think of this.
Unless, of course, he’s stalking around my home and casually mentioning that my family and I might be in some sort of danger. Yeah, then it’s easy to just be pissed off with him.
And that reminds me.
I reach for my phone, then hesitate like I have for the past few days.
After yelling at me for not calling him when I hurt my wrist, Morgan’s been in constant contact. But we’ve stuck to safe topics, like my nan or my wrist or work.
I want to talk to him about what Callum said, but I haven’t yet. Every time I go to call him or send a text, something stops me.
He’s one of them now.
As much as I struggle to wrap my head around this, it doesn’t make it any less true. Can I talk to him about a member of his club? Will he be allowed to? The idea that he might put club rules before our friendship is a bitter pill to swallow.
But I could also be totally wrong and worrying over nothing.
I should just talk to him.
With a lot of eye-rolling, I pull up our message thread.
Ash: Hey. You free today or tomorrow?
His reply is almost instant, and it goes some way to easing my doubts.
Morgan: Yep. Want me to come to you? I can bring your car back.
Fuck, I almost forgot about that. It’s not like I’ve been able to drive anywhere. I already told my parents that Morgan borrowed it, so it wouldn’t look odd for him to drive it back here.
Ash: Yeah, okay. Just after lunch?
Morgan: Ok. I’ll be there about 2. How’s the wrist?
Ash: Meh. Same. Still hurts, still a pita
He sends me an eye-roll emoji, so I send him a middle-finger one in return.
Morgan: I’m sure you’ll be back to wanking before you know it
Ash: fuck you
And the jokes on him, I’m ambidextrous when it comes to my cock.
We banter back and forth for a few more minutes, then he has to go and do ‘club’ things, whatever the fuck that means. I’m both super curious and afraid to ask.
I check the time.
10:25.
Plenty of time to have an awkward shower, food, and a careful tidy round before Morgan gets here.
Just after two o’clock, I hear the familiar rumble of my car pulling onto the drive. It’s not the only thing I can hear though, and my pulse kicks up a notch.
Motorbikes.
It won’t be him.
I don’t want it to be.
Lies.
I pull my bedroom door shut, as if that’ll stop me thinking about what I did in there this morning, and hurry to the front door.
Morgan’s getting out of my car as I open the door wide. He’s alone, but there are two Wild Wolves pulled up behind him. One of them I don’t recognise, but the bloke next to him is unfortunately all too familiar. I flush despite my best efforts not to think of my dream.
Or dreams.
Fuck’s sake.
He doesn’t get off his bike, but I feel his eyes on me.
I watch him out of the corner of my eye, refusing to give him my full attention, and focus on Morgan instead. “Hey.” I smile as he reaches me.
“Hey.” Morgan grins back, then grimaces as he notices my wrist still in the brace. “How is it?”
“Eh, hurts.” I lift it a little. “But it’s getting better. Slowly.”
He nudges my good arm. “Can’t believe you didn’t call me to come get you.”
I move closer to him and lower my voice.
“I didn’t really get a choice. Your VP is really fucking bossy.
And not in the fun way.” Morgan raises both eyebrows.
I hate that he knows me so well. “Fine. It was a little hot.” I hold my thumb and finger a little apart. “Especially when he got all growly.”
Morgan chokes on air.
I glare at him, then poke him in the chest. “You better not repeat any of that.”
“I won’t.” He glances over at where Callum’s still watching us, and what looks like guilt flashes in his eyes.
Then it’s gone so quickly, maybe I imagined it, because he’s grinning again.
“Come on, let’s go and catch up. I brought cake.
” He holds up a bag from the bakery in town and my stomach growls.
“Please tell me you’ve got millionaire shortbread in there.” It’s my favourite, and I haven’t had it in ages.
He laughs. “Of course. Only the best for the invalid.”
“Come on.” I grab his arm and tug him back towards the door. “Are they just going to sit out there?” I sneak another glance back at Callum, only to find him watching us. Fuck.
“Yeah,” Morgan grumbles. “Lynx’s orders.”
“Orders?” I stop halfway through the door. “What the fuck?”
Morgan winces. “You know what I mean.”
“No, I don’t think I do.” I pull him inside and shut the door. “Since when do you let a fucking boyfriend give you orders?” I shake my head. “That’s not okay, Mor.”
“It’s not like that.”
“Then explain it to me.” I slump onto my sofa. “I asked if you were safe there and you said yes.” I fucking knew he was keeping something big from me.
“I am safe.” He sits next to me and grabs my good hand. I don’t realise it’s shaking until he wraps his fingers around mine and stops it. “That’s why Lynx asked Callum and Ren to follow me here. To keep it that way.”
I meet his eyes, trying to read my best friend like I’ve always been able to.
I don’t detect any lies, not about this, anyway.
“You swear he’s not forcing you to do stuff?
That you’re not stuck there? That you can still come and go when you want?
” The more I read about motorcycle clubs, the more I worry.
“Tell me the truth, Mor. All of it,” I add, and he bites his lip.
“I know I said you could do it in your own time, but I don’t think I can wait. ”
I stand, agitated and needing to pace. “Callum implied that I might be in danger, that my family might too, because of my association with you and now them. He said the club has enemies.” I stop and look down at him.
“What the fuck does that mean? Should I be worried?” I don’t let him answer, too riled up to stop.
I was all set to give him as much time as he wanted before, but I can’t do that now.
“He came in here.” I wave my hand around.
“Checking each room and all the windows, like he expected someone to break in. I could hardly fucking sleep that night.”
“Fuck,” Morgan whispers, and stands, reaching for me. “I’m sorry, Ash.” He pulls me in for a careful one-armed hug.
I let him.
“Don’t be sorry,” I mumble, face pressed into his shoulder. “Just tell me what the fuck you’ve got yourself into. All of it. I don’t care how complicated or whatever. I need to know.”
His deep sigh makes me tense, expecting more excuses as to why he can’t tell me yet. I’m all ready to shoot them down when he steps back and looks me in the eye.
“Okay.”
I’m so unprepared for him to capitulate so easily, I’ve got nothing.
He laughs and runs both hands through his hair. “You thought I was gonna say no, right?”
“I might’ve,” I admit. “You’ve not exactly been eager to tell me.”
His smile turns wry. “When I do, you’ll realise why.” Then all traces of amusement vanish, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look more serious. “I’ve wanted to tell you, Ash. For weeks.”
I frown. “Then why haven’t you?”
“Because—” He visibly deflates, and I take a step towards him, but he waves me away. “I’m good, it’s just . . .”
“What?”
“I’m worried how you’ll react.” He looks it too, and dread pools in my belly.
What the fuck has he done?
The last thing I want is for him to have doubts about telling me, so I school my features as best I can. “You can tell me anything. I’ll still be your best friend.”
“Anything?”
“Well, you know, as long as it doesn’t involve hurting children or animals.” I have some limits.
He shakes his head. “No kids or pets, I promise.”
“Well, okay, then.” I gesture to the sofa again. “Let’s sit back down and you can tell me everything. And I mean every fucking thing, Mor.”
“I will . . .” he hesitates.
I fucking knew it.
Before I tell him as much, he puts a hand on my chest. “I will,” he repeats, more forcefully this time. “But not here.”
“What? Why?”
“Because it’ll be easier if I can show you. And I can only do that back at the Wild Wolves compound.” He draws his bottom lip between his teeth again, watching me, waiting for me to say something.
I spit out the first thing I think of. “It’s not a dead body, is it?”
I expect him to roll his eyes or laugh or call me an idiot. Any reaction other than the way he calmly shakes his head and says, “No.”
I never thought Morgan would make me feel so off-kilter, but as I stand there looking at him, I realise there’s now a side to him that I know nothing about.
I hate it.
And it scares me.
And as desperate as I’ve been to find out what he’s hiding, I’m now terrified it might break us. He must read it on my face, because when he reaches for me this time, he’s less sure of his welcome.
But fuck that.
I refuse to let anything come between us.
Even me.
I pull him to me this time and he clings on tight. So tight he squashes my wrist between us, and I flinch.
“Fuck, sorry.” He steps back quickly. “You okay?”
I flex my fingers, but they feel the same as before. “All good.” Well, about as good as they can get right now. “So, when are we doing this?” I ask, and he pulls out his phone, sending a quick text.
“Asking for permission?” I can’t help the edge in my voice.
“Sort of.”
I narrow my eyes, but he straightens, not backing down.
“I need to make sure a few things are in place before I bring you back.” His phone chimes, and he reads whatever message just popped up. “What about tomorrow?”
“Can’t. I have to go into work. Some of us still have a job to go to.” I’m still pissed off that he doesn’t work alongside me anymore. I miss him.
“They let me go, remember.”
“Because you never went back.”
He shrugs but doesn’t deny it. “When are you next free?”
I run through the next few days in my head. I have work a couple of days this week—staff training since I can’t do much else—and I want to go see my nan too. “What about Saturday?”
“Yeah, that works.”
“Good.”
“Good.”
We stare at each other a beat longer, awkwardness settling between us until we both chuckle. It fills me with warmth and the hope that whatever this fucking awful secret Morgan has, we’ll still be us after he tells—no, shows me on Saturday.
“It’ll be okay,” I tell him, and I mean it.
“I hope so.” His smile is too shaky for my liking.
I lightly punch his shoulder. “Best friends forever.”
“Remember that on Saturday.”
“I will.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
His phone chimes again, twice in succession, and he frowns when he checks it. “Sorry, Ash. I have to go.”
“Already? We didn’t even get to have cake.”
“You eat it. I bought it for you anyway.”
I’m disappointed, but maybe this is for the best. With this huge secret hanging over us, I doubt we’d have been able to think about much else. I know I won’t. I doubt I’ll be thinking about much else from now until Saturday.
I walk him to the door.
He turns before opening it. “Give my love to your family.”
“I will. Maybe next time you can come when they’re here.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
Somehow, I don’t think that’s a yes.
He opens the door and I follow him out. Callum and his sidekick are in the exact same spots we left them in.
Callum has his arms crossed, watching us, and I tut in annoyance. “Glad you’re taking those two with you.”
Morgan grimaces. “About that.”
I swing to face him. “No.”
“Just for a while, to make sure you’re not in any danger.” He looks over at Callum, and I’m pretty sure he nods slightly before turning back to me. “It probably won’t be Cal watching you all the time, but it’s going to be someone from the Wolves.”
I ignore the disappointment that tries to creep in.
“Please don’t argue about it,” Morgan adds when I don’t say anything.
I want to.
But maybe I can let that go for now. “Fine. We can revisit it when my wrist is out of this stupid brace.”
“Agreed.”
I give Morgan another hug. “Do you need to borrow my car again?”
“Nope. I’ve got a lift.” A sleek silver SUV pulls up at the kerb, Lynx in the driver’s seat. He lowers the window. the smile he directs at Morgan is soft and full of something that looks a lot like love. Maybe Morgan’s telling the truth about that part, at least.
I watch Morgan jog toward him and get in the car.
It’s only when I’m locking my front door and going into the living area that I remember something.
When I mentioned hurting children or animals was a dealbreaker for our friendship, Morgan said no children or pets would get hurt. Is that an odd distinction to make? Or am I seeing things that aren’t there because I have no fucking clue what he’s going to tell me?
Probably the latter.
All I know is it’s going to be a long few days until Saturday rolls around.