Grabbing her forearm lightly, I tug her in my direction. “Gotta go and make sure no more idiots are lurking around. You know how I am about you having bad dreams about shit. Figure I’ll squash them now and you’ll sleep like a baby.” Winking, I bring her against my chest.
It’s true. Her nightmares drive me up the fucking wall. If I hear her having one, I’ve started to automatically carry her to my bed so they stop and she sleeps. I don’t want this giving her more shit at night as well.
“I know. I really don’t want you caught riding alone though.”
“One of them couldn’t handle me with you in the middle of it. Trust me, B; they damn sure can’t handle me alone.”
She sighs, still worried, and I pull her closer until her chest is flush against mine and my arms are around her securely. “I’ll be fine, Daydream,” I utter as I bend down until her lips are to mine.
My hand tangles in her long, dark, chocolate-colored hair and my tongue glides over hers tenderly. The kiss is full of so many feelings I’ve been holding back, hiding away inside. If I could tell her with merely a kiss just how I feel about her, I would. I’m not sure she’ll get it, but I do my damndest anyhow.
Her palm lands on my chest, bunching my T-shirt fabric in her hands as she gives it back just as well as she takes it. I wish the lip lock was under different circumstances and I wasn’t about to leave. If anything, the kiss is good motivation to take care of business quickly and get back to her.
“Behave,” I murmur, as I pull away. My toes tingle as I remember what her mouth’s capable of doing.
She grins as I bump my nose against hers gently, and then I’m out the door, in pissed-off biker mode, ready to fuck up some Fists, if needed.
Thankfully, cleanup went quick, and we made it back to the club in one piece. Having to lift shit with my shoulder sucked, but I got through it. There’s nothing more relaxing than lighting a body on fire—other than sex. To me anyhow. I relish in that shit. It can’t just be anyone, either. It has to be a piece of shit whose flesh gets melted off by my hands for it to do the trick.
“This crazy goin’ on better not be giving you ideas to go Nomad again.”
Grinning at Viking, I shake my head. “Nah, you’d miss me too much.”
“Not to sound like a bitch, but yeah, I would actually. When we were Nomad, you and Ex were the two brothers I trusted the most. You didn’t run your mouths and you owned your shit. I want to be surrounded by that in my own club. I have Princess now; I can’t have a Nomad charter.”
“I get it, and you don’t have to worry about me either. I have Bethany and Mav now. No way I’m leaving them. Truthfully, though, if they weren’t around, I’d love to go back to being a Nomad, but my fucking leg can’t handle the amount of riding it takes.”
“Your leg?” He stares at me, confused. “But I thought it was fine?”
I shake my head. “No. The doc told me to stop riding forever when it happened, but I refused. I did what I could to make it stronger. Well, at least strong enough so I could ride with you guys locally.”
“Fuck, why didn’t you tell me any of this before? I’ve sent you on so many runs. I never would’ve had I known.”
“And that’s why. I didn’t want you to see me any differently. Hell, besides that, I know you would’ve blamed yourself, and I couldn’t have that on my conscience. You finally found Princess and your calling being the Prez. I wasn’t about to piss all over it.”
He holds his hand out and I place mine in his, as his other palm comes down on my uninjured shoulder. “You’re my brother, Night. Anything you need…any fuckin’ thing…it’s yours. You just let me know, man.”
“Appreciate it.”
“And you won’t ever hear a word out of me about it again.”
“Thank you.” I don’t mention those words often, but what he’s saying, means a lot to me.
“Now, let’s get on with church. I’m sure everyone’s wondering what the hell’s going on. We need to bring them all up to speed.”
Everything has changed and yet,
I am more me than I’ve ever been.
-Iain Thomas
“What do you think’s happening in there?”
“I don’t know, but that Lamborghini that just pulled into the parking lot?” She gestures out the window and I glance to where she points. Sure enough, there’s a black sports car parked outside right next to mine and all the guys’ motorcycles.
“Yeah?”
“It belongs to the Boss of the Russian Mafia.”