I claimed her lips as my own personal territory and the taste of her stabbed me in the gut. I knew what spit tasted like. And despite how people described it, spit just tasted like spit. This was different, though. This wasn’t just any spit from any woman. I enjoyed the taste of it.
The taste of her.
My hands gripped her hips, and I walked her back to my bike. I pressed her against it, bending her backward as her tits pressed against my chest. My tongue flooded her mouth as her lips swelled against our efforts. And as I raked my teeth across her plump lower lip, the soft whimper that fell from them stiffened my cock even harder.
And I growled at the sensation.
“Oh, Brooks,” she whispered.
I kissed down her neck. “Fucking hell, you taste amazing.”
I smelled her pussy as her juices gathered in her panties. I fisted the fabric of her dress, ripping it up over her thighs before my fingers fell between her legs. Her head fell back as she parted them for me, her sounds mounting as I rubbed that swollen little clit through her panties.
“Brooks, I-I-I—I need—”
I wrapped my hand around her throat. “Tell me what you need, beautiful.”
Her eyes lifted to meet my own. “To be filled.”
I ripped her up from my bike and spun her around. She squealed and yelped as my hand twisted into her hair. I bent her over my bike and threw her dress over her hips, groaning at this sight of her lovely peekaboo panties. Her ass cheeks were rounded like perfect little globes made just for my hands. And as I ran my free hand over them, I committed their map to memory.
Before pulling her panties off to the side.
“Brooks! Shit!”
I staked myself inside of her. “Good shit, you’re tight as fuck, Raven.”
“Oh, God. Please. Fuck me, Brooks. It’s been so damn long.”
I gritted my teeth together as I yanked her head back. She cried out my name for the wilderness as I pounded into her, listening to my bike squeak with our movements. Her ass cheeks bounced against my pelvis. Her juices leaked down my balls. My toes curled into my boots as I released her hair, wrapping my hand around her stomach.
Before I slipped my fingers beneath her panties.
“Oh, shit. Oh, fuck. Brooks. Brooks. Please, Brooks! I’m so close!”
I pressed my fingers against her clit. “Fuck yourself on me. Do it. Take what you want.”
She pressed her hands against the leather of my bike and fucked her body against my cock. I stood up and relished the scene as her pussy grabbed me tightly. The tension was too great. Her warmth was too much. And as my knees buckled, I caught myself against my bike and pressed my lips to the shell of her ear.
“Come with me, Raven,” I growled.
Her head fell back against my shoulder and I captured her lips. She unraveled against me, the pulsing of her pussy pulling me over the edge as I growled down the back of her throat. I swallowed her sounds. I rutted against her as my dick painted her walls. She collapsed against my bike, huffing and puffing as sweat dripped down the nape of my neck. And as I emptied myself into her, the smell of her womanhood wrapped around my head like a wild snake refusing to let me go.
Still, I stumbled back, watching as a trail of arousal connected the tip of my dick to her swollen entrance.
“Holy fuck,” I breathed.
She swallowed hard. “That was…”
I quickly stuffed myself back into my pants. “Guess that means no coffee for us.”
She giggled as she pointed to the puddle of coffee on the ground. “Too bad. I think we both could’ve used it.”
Her giggle made me chuckle, and before I knew it she was situating herself while laughing with me. I held onto her hand as she rearranged her dress and her underwear. Then, she tousled her hair to try and make it look like we hadn’t just fucked.
I just fucked my best friend’s wife.
“We should be getting back,” I said.
Her laughter ceased as quickly as it came on and Raven cleared her throat. “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.”
I threw my leg over my bike. “Come on. We’ll get another coffee for ourselves before we head back.”
She climbed behind me. “You think the coffee in the back’s already cold?”
I shrugged. “Don’t know, don’t care. Hold on.”
After running to get us coffee so the guys wouldn’t question what we were up to, we headed back to the clubhouse. And the second I walked through the doors with my coffee in one hand and the to-go container in the other, I was rushed by a bunch of weak-kneed, muscle-bound men who couldn’t function without caffeine.
“Here, here. Take it. I sure as hell don’t want it,” I grumbled.
I set it on the table as the men rushed it. And while they sucked down the glorious black substance, I saw Raven make her way back down the hallway. She peered over her shoulder, our eyes meeting for the first time since our sin, and I saw the sorrow in her eyes.
It matched the sorrow in my gut.
You fucking asshole.
Chops’ voice rose above the chaos. “Guess this is as good of a time as ever to call church!”
He clapped his hands as the guys lumbered over toward the couches and the recliners, flopping down to make themselves comfortable. My eyes trailed after Raven until she disappeared into the darkness, I guess making her way for my bedroom. So, I turned my attention to the guys and went to stand in the corner by the main window. Peeking outside and making sure we stayed safe during our meeting, like I had always done.
Then, Chops got creative. “So, I wanna run some of my new ideas past you guys and see what you all think. We won’t take any formal votes because these aren’t the kinds of things I need votes with, but I do want input from my guys.”
We all nodded in unison before Chops looked at me. “I don’t know how much you’ve been told about things since you’ve been gone, but a few things have changed.”
I stuck my tongue into the inside of my cheek. “Yep. I figured as much.”
“So, you know we’ve been making money not just with the chop shop, but some wheeling and dealing on the side.”
I blinked. “Nope. Did not know that.”
“Wheeling” was a code word used in our area for running guns, and “dealing” was the unanimous word for peddling drugs. But had he just told me—straight to my face—that he had broken two of the biggest fucking rules of this club while I’d been locked up?
I looked out at the sea of faces of my men, but almost all of them couldn’t look me in the fucking eyes.
What the hell happened to my club? “I take it you’ve got better ideas now?”
Chops nodded. “Actually, yes. We’ve made a killing while you were locked up on the wheeling and dealing, but I know of a market that’s making its way into this area that we could really make bank on.”
Archer leaned forward. “High-end cars? You thinkin’ about takin’ things up a notch?”
Cole grinned. “It’s about damn time. Those puppies, especially when modded, sell for a fuck ton. And we’ve been getting a lot of whispers about having them on the streets now.”
Porter raised his hand. “I’ve got a couple of clients already lined up looking for some high-end tech in their high-end cars if that’s what we’re about to get into. They’ve practically been hounding me about it.”
But Chops simply shook his head. “No, no, no. That’s little time shit. This club is much better and has many more uses than what Hyde used to do.”
It took all I had not to lunge at this bastard when he mentioned that name. “So, what is it? Spit it out.”
Chops eyed me hotly. “Who’s in control of this meeting?”
I shrugged. “I was under the impression that we all guided it. You know, since we’re all important.”
Chops’ temples twitched. “Anyway, I think we could easily make four times what we’re pulling a month right now if we add a few lady auctions to our docket.”
The room fell silent before Porter spoke. “You mean, like a charity auction?”
Cole snickered. “Not that I don’t like a good charity, but uh, it’s not really our style, Chops.”
I ground my teeth together. “You mean trafficking.”
Chops’ eyes met mine as the room came to an ultimate standstill. It didn’t even sound like the guys were breathing. And when Chops didn’t correct me, it took everything I had inside of me not to lunge across the fucking room and dig his testicles out through his god damn anus.
“Since when do we hurt women, Chops?” I asked.
Archer leapt out of his seat. “I will not get into some fucking bullshit, down-right dirty-ass slave or sex trade that preys on the innocent women in this town. And if this is the kind of club we’ve turned into? I’ll gladly hand you my leather cut.”
Porter nodded. “Same. I won’t be a participant in this nonsense.”
I shrugged. “You can count me in, and you can consider me a rat. Because if that’s the route you really want to take? I’ll give you my leather jacket and walk my happy ass straight over to the cops.”
Chops slowly stood. “Those are some serious words coming from your mouth.”
I clicked my tongue. “Serious words for a serious problem.”
Cole sighed. “This group has always had an unspoken agreement that we’d never harm women, children, or families intentionally.”
Chops snickered. “And what the fuck do you think you’ve been doing since you started selling thsoe drugs for me, huh?”
I came to Cole’s defense. “He’s probably just following the orders of a president who’s supposed to have our best interest in mind.”
Chops growled. “I do have their best interest in mind.”
I walked up to him, standing toe to toe. “There’s more to someone’s well-being than money. You should know that after spending the bulk of your tenure with this club as Hyde’s V.P.”
He snarled. “Well, Hyde isn’t president anymore, now, is he?”
Because you killed him. “Watch your next set of words.”
Chops chuckled as he held out his arms. “This is the future, boys!”
I watched him back up before he leaned against the front door. Almost as if he were preventing any of us from leaving.
“The future is in trafficking. It might suck, and you might not like it, but think of it this way: with every auction we throw, we can also sell our services. The drugs. The chop shop. The mechanics we have on speed dial. We can sell everything in one place and capitalize on a very serious opportunity.”
I shook my head. “Women aren’t property to be sold—”
Chops yelled over me so hard I thought the house would shatter. “Who died and made you president!?”
The gun on my hip burned a hole in my skin as Chops turned his attention to the other guys. “Look, our business at the chop shop is down forty percent and plummeting. We’ve had to fire two different outside mechanics because without the chop shop doing well, we can’t pull people over this way enough for them to even know we’ve got a fucking mechanics shop. We started selling the drugs as a desperation to pull us all out of the red, but fucking hell, aren’t you guys tired of living this way?”
Archer shed his jacket. “I won’t be part of this shit. Count me the fuck out.”
I watched him throw it at Chops’ feet before he tried shoving the man out of the way. I clenched my fists at my side as Chops gripped the man’s arm, yanking him back and tossing him into the middle of the room. And the second Archer went to charge him, I wrapped my arms around the man.
“Let go of me, Brooks,” Archer growled.
I pressed my lips to his ear. “He’ll get his day. Just breathe. We won’t be able to do a damn thing without you. Remember that.”
That seemed to settle Archer down enough, and he scooped his leather jacket up off the floor. There, I already had one guy on my side willing to go down whatever rabbit hole I saw fit. And as Chops stared at me, I held my head high.
“I take it the guns aren’t raking in the kind of cash you want to see, either?” I asked.
Chops grinned. “Between the guns and the auctions—or possibly a prostitution ring—we’ll be unstoppable. With that kind of constant cash flow, we can rake the floor with those Black Flags guys, push them out indefinitely, and claim Santa Cruz as ours.”
He sounds just like them. “Are you going to talk to the girls and make sure they get a good deal before you enslave them? Or are you just going to snatch them off the street like a common criminal?”
He walked up to me and chuckled. “Does it really matter if they have a say? The sex trade is the future, and some of these women out here could do with a real dose of reminding as to what their actual role is in life.”
I drew in a sobering breath. “If you’re going to make changes to how we get our money, in our by-laws it states that you need a formal vote.”
Chops twitched. “What?”
Porter nodded. “He’s right. You haven’t taken a formal vote the first couple of times, but we need to take one now. There’s too much at stake.”
Chops whipped around. “I don’t need to take a vote for shit. I’m the president of this club, and what I say goes.”
Archer snickered. “That’s a dictatorship, and you aren’t our dictator. You’re our president, which means this club is a democracy.”
The guys nodded and I grinned as I drew in a deep breath. “All in favor of getting into the sex trafficking syndicate of the world, raise your hands.”
And Chops was the only man that raised his hand.
I chuckled. “Well, there you have it.”
He growled at me. “You guys are making a big fucking mistake.”
Archer shook his head. “There’s more to this than money and territory, even if you can’t see it.”
Chops pointed his finger against Archer’s chest. “I will find a way to get you guys to see this my way. After all, I’m your president. And if you don’t like it? I can ask for your cut at any point in time I please.”
Porter barked with laughter. “What? You gonna threaten to take away our coats if we don’t start selling women as if they’re property? Fine by me.”
I nodded along with the rest of my guys and Chops took a step back. “I can force you to do whatever I please. And yes, if you don’t like it, I can forcibly remove your cut from you.”
I slid my jacket off my back and handed it to him. “No need. You can have it if this is how things are going to be with you as president.”
Archer did the same thing. “Yep. You can have mine as well.”
Porter shrugged off his jacket. “And mine.”
Cole tugged at his sleeves. “Mine, too.”
And when all of us had our jackets off and dangling from our fingers, Chops stormed through the living room, heading down the hallway where the darkness swallowed him whole.
“So, is that a ‘no’ to our cuts?” Porter asked.
The guys chuckled as they put their jackets back on, but I didn’t find it funny. What the ever-blessed fuck just happened? Has Chops lost his goddamn mind? Anger unlike anything I’d ever felt in my life rushed through my system, yet I knew I was helpless. The only thing I could do was walk away. It wasn’t as if I could strip Chops of his role.
Not without killing him, anyway.
“We could vote him out, you know,” Archer murmured.
I slowly looked over at him. “It would have to be unanimous across the entire club. And even then, he’d have to appoint a new president in his place.”
Tanner finally spoke up after sitting wide-eyed through that entire church meeting. “Wouldn’t it just be the V.P. that stepped up?”
Finn scoffed. “He hasn’t appointed one yet, remember?”
I blinked. “Wait, there’s no standing V.P.?”
Tanner shook his head. “There’s no standing anyone right now. When Chops became president, he didn’t appoint anyone to any other positions.”
I licked my lips. “So, there’s no normal V.P.? Or Treasurer?”
Archer sighed. “We’ve been taking up our old positions that we had under Hyde, but Chops hasn’t formally appointed anyone, no.”
And I know why. “Because he knew we’d act this way and that would still give him the upper hand. We turn in our cuts and he can rebuild from scratch.”
Finn sighed. “We vote him out, he can still appoint a president we won’t stand just to spite us.”
I pointed at him. “Bingo.”
Porter stepped closely into the circle of men. “I mean, we could… well, you know…”
I lowered my voice to a whisper. “Are you really suggesting…”
Cole raked his hand through his hair. “If we can’t vote him out, we’ve got mutiny or killing him. That’s it.”
I shook my head. “What the fuck happened with this place while I was in prison? Have you guys really been wheeling and dealing?”
Archer nodded. “Yeah, and while we didn’t like it at first, it did make ends meet. The chop shop and mechanics shop isn’t what it used to be now that high-end clients are moving in with high-end cars they want to modify.”
I shook my head. “So, modify the high-end cars. How hard is that?”
Porter shrugged. “I think Chops isn’t taking that route because—”
I growled. “Because it doesn’t get him to his fucking end goal, that’s why.”
Tanner scoffed. “And as much as I hate to admit it, the money’s been great from the wheeling and dealing. I mean I can’t sleep well at night anymore, but at least I got a top-tier mattress to struggle against.”
I rolled my eyes. “This is bullshit and we all agree, right? This sex trafficking thing?”
All of the guys nodded vigorously and that gave me, at least in part, a bit of relief. So, I ventured into another line of questioning.
“Have there been any issues with the Black Flags while I’ve been away?”
The guys all looked around at one another and I knew that wasn’t good. But when none of them spoke, I knew it was bad in the worst of ways.
“What?” I asked. “Someone spit it out.”
Archer cleared his throat. “We have had some issues with them, yes.”
Porter put his hand on my shoulder. “Look, those assholes have a big hold on the drug ring in town right now. And when we ventured into their territory to sell cheaper drugs cut with all that bullshit? It made tensions even worse.”
I pulled the guys in as closely as I could. “I can’t get into the specifics right now, but my gut is telling me that the Black Flags were somehow part of the bust that put me away and got Gage killed. I’d run down the theories I’ve had a lot of time to think about, but we’ll have to save that for another time. The point is: I don’t think Gage’s death, Hyde’s death, or my incarceration was simply an accident.”
Porter furrowed his brow. “Do you think Chops had anything to do with any of that?”
I sighed. “I honestly don’t know, but we need to look into it. You guys with me on this?”
Archer nodded. “You know damn good and well I am.”
Tanner and Finn nodded in unison. “We’re in.”
Cole shrugged. “I’ve never liked the man, even when he was V.P. I’m down.”
And when I looked over at Porter, he grinned. “Dude, you know I’ve always got your back.”
I grinned. “Thanks. But we have to do this without Chops catching wind of it. If he is involved in some way—”
Archer waved his hand in the air. “We know, we know. Keep it on the D.L. Got it.”
Porter patted my back. “And if this man goes down, guess who falls in line next to be president?”
All eyes were on me as I shook my head. “None of us have formal titles, so that’ll be a different vote for a different day. But for now? Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.”
And as our whispered meeting drew to a close, I wondered if Porter was right.
I wondered if these guys would actually vote me in as their president and give me that kind of trust.
