Blaze POV #2
Dylan stays quiet for a while, clearly thinking it all through. I don’t rush him. I just stay pressed against his back, still connected, dropping soft kisses along his shoulder while I wait.
Eventually he lets out a long breath. “Fine. Claim me.”
A slow smile spreads across my face as I nip at his ear. “Good boy.”
He doesn’t move, still catching his breath beneath me. I stay buried inside him for a moment longer, enjoying the warmth before I finally speak.
“So… time to fuck again to celebrate?”
He chokes on a laugh. “N-no, we need to t-talk.”
“Fuck,” I grumble, nipping at his shoulder. “Why go and spoil the fun? I’m still in you. We could just fuck again.”
“B-blaze, no.”
“Fine.” I sigh dramatically and slowly pull out of him, already missing the tight heat. I roll off and turn him onto his back so I can see his face. “Talk away.”
“I w-w-want to be p-patched in.”
What? I blink at him, caught completely off guard. “You can’t be.”
“B-b-because I’m small, r-r-right? A w-weakness?”
Fuck. The guilt hits me hard. “No! Fucking hell, Dylan. When I said that, it was about your father’s world.
It doesn’t mean you’re a fucking weakness.
It just means people will assume you are because they’re idiots.
” I totally fucked up saying that shit. I was pissed off and running my mouth when I first found out who he really was.
“To be patched in takes time,” I continue more gently. “You need to be able to ride for a start. You need to take on a role in the club, which means doing illegal shit.”
“I k-k-know enough, I’m not a f-f-fool.”
No, he thinks he does. “While the club doesn’t go too deep on the illegal side, we still do illegal shit, Dylan. You need to be sure you’re okay with that.”
He laughs, but it sounds tired. “I w-was taking o-over my father, r-remember?”
Fuck. Yeah. “I forgot, okay. Not that you were taking over him, more that it’s mafia-level illegal. Look, can we get through me claiming you first? The club getting told, and maybe you starting to learn how a bike works?”
“Fine,” he mutters. “Guess so.”
I brush some hair off his forehead, studying his face. “Why are you wanting to be patched in?”
“A-as you said, I n-need to show him I’m not weak.”
“You don’t need to fucking prove anything to your father. Forget about him.”
“N-no.” He sighs and looks away. I catch the guilt flashing in his eyes.
“Dylan, what have you done?”
“N-nothing.”
“Bullshit. You’re looking guilty as hell.”
He sighs again and turns his head further away. “My father’s p-p-plan is to own the biker clubs. F-first he has to deal with the West Crew trying t-t-to take him down with the weapons, but his aim is to take over clubs.”
My stomach drops. “What the fuck have you told him about our club, Dylan?”
“N-nothing! The plan was set b-b-before I met you. It’s S-siren’s home, I p-p-planned to s-s-stop it when I t-t-t-took over.”
I can see I’m making him panic. His stutter is getting worse. I soften my voice. “Okay. Well, I need to know everything. You want to be patched in? Learn to ride, and buy your way in with information about your father.”
“T-that’s all?”
“No, it’s going to take time to get the trust from the guys after all this. But you have to know… this is taking a war to your father.”
“My sisters and brother aren’t at fault.”
“I’m not saying they are. What I’m saying is, if your father tries to take over clubs and won’t agree to leave them be, then he’s dead.”
His eyes widen in shock.
“He can’t be left alive if he’s trying to take over the clubs,” I say more gently. “He shouldn’t care if his father lives or dies, but I can see that he does. “It’s the last resort. If he won’t agree to a deal.”
Nodding slowly, he relaxes just a little. “My sisters won’t be h-hurt.”
“No, we don’t hurt women, Dylan. You should know that by now.”
“I wouldn’t know,” he says quietly. “I don’t know how deep your club goes.”
That’s true. He’d need to be patched in to really understand how dark we can get when necessary. But hurting women and children? That’s a hard line we don’t cross.
I pull him closer, wrapping an arm around him. “We’ll figure it out. One step at a time.”
I need to speak with the guys and defend him, because this is going to look bad on him no matter how we spin it. I run my hand down his back, trying to keep my tone light. “Let’s get showered, grab some food somewhere, and then talk.”
“About my dad?” he asks, voice still a little rough.
“No. About what you can handle.”
He rolls his eyes, but there’s a tired edge to it. “My father t-trained me to handle a lot.”
I smirk, leaning down to kiss his shoulder. “Oh, I have no doubt he has. But I didn’t mean what you can handle as a prospect or getting patched in. I mean what you can handle from me. At Sin. I need to know your limits so I can finally take you there without breaking their rules.”
“Back to sex?” There’s a hint of amusement mixed with exhaustion in his voice.
I nod, brushing my thumb along his jaw. “Yeah. It’s where my mind lives, baby. Come on, shower.” I stand up and drag him up with me, keeping an arm around his waist so he doesn’t stumble. He’s still shaky on his legs after everything, and I like the way he leans into me without thinking.
We need to have this conversation properly.
I need to find out his real limits what he’s not comfortable with, what he might be curious about, what’s a hard no.
Everything. It’s getting sorted today. I can’t take him to Sin blind.
The club has strict rules about that shit, and I’m not risking him or breaking trust there.
As we step into the bathroom, I turn the water on and pull him under the spray with me, my hands gentle as I start washing him.
Part of me hates how clinical this conversation feels after what we just did, but it’s necessary.
Dylan’s been through enough. The last thing I want is to push him too far and make him regret choosing me.