Red notices me adjusting myself and chuckles. “She’s something, your woman. You want my opinion? If she hasn’t already run for the hills, I doubt she’ll be doing so. Takes a lot for someone to stay after going through something like that.”
“I’m not so sure, Red. She’s full of guilt over what happened. First Hank, then Adam.”
“Shit happens in our world.”
He’s not wrong there.
As night falls, the clubhouse begins to get rowdier, and after excusing myself to Drum, I take Sophie back to our room, for once feeling nervous as I lead her inside. Tonight I’ll be asking her the question, but if she’s going to give me the answer I dread, I’m going to be inside her first.
As soon as we’re inside the door, I undo the zip on the black top she’s worn today, a mark of respect for the dead. She makes no protest as I slide the material down her arms, leaving it to pool on the floor. Reaching my hands around I undo the front fastening on her bra, letting her breasts fall free.
Chapter Thirty-One
Sophie…
Wraith seems to be at odds with himself tonight, devastated at burying another of his brothers, I expect. He’s holding me to him, teasing my nipples, but there’s desperation there. He takes on the blame for leaving me alone that day; I blame myself for bringing yet more trouble to their door. We’re a screwed-up couple, and I don’t know where we go from here.
His hands are clutching at me as though he never wants to let me go, his hard cock is pressing into my arse, and though I know we should talk, right now a conversation is the last thing on my mind. His fingers are trailing down my stomach now, leaving a path of tingling skin in their wake as he makes every part of me feel alive.
As he undoes the button and takes down the zip, he slips one of his hands inside my underwear.
“You’re wet for me, darlin’.”
I groan in response and, putting my arm up, rest my fingers against the back of his head and try to pull him down to me. I want his mouth, and he doesn’t disappoint. Turning me to face him, he brings his lips to mine and our mouths press together. Running his tongue along the seam, he demands entry. The day’s been difficult—another funeral, another goodbye, and the way we kiss seems a celebration we’re alive. Our tongues meet and swirl together, our tastes mingling until it’s hard to tell them apart. I put all of me into that kiss, reaffirming my love for him.
When he pulls away, a moan of protest escapes my lips. He smiles an enigmatic smile, then lowers his head to lave attention on my peaking nipples, his touch one of worship, making me feel special.
In no hurry, he uses his teeth, giving a little bite then soothing with a slide of his tongue, first one erect tip, and then the other. My clit is throbbing with need, my muscles spasming as he continues his exquisite torture.
“I need you,” I gasp.
He pushes his hips into me. “I need you too.”
Now he’s lifting me, placing me on the bed. With an economy of movement, he removes my black trousers and then makes quick work freeing me from the prosthesis. He places a kiss to my stump, proving once again that he couldn’t care less about my disability. He stands back, admiring the view, stroking himself through his jeans. As if a switch has been thrown, in one move he pulls off his cut and t-shirt, toes off his boots and removes his jeans. My eyes widen as he stands there in his boxers, and seeing my reaction, he hooks his fingers in the waistband and slides them down his legs, taking his socks off with them as he reaches his ankles.
Standing naked before me, he affords me a moment to admire the view, and a smirk comes to his face as my tongue comes out to lick my lips.
I sit up, reaching out my hands, wanting to touch him. He considers my unspoken offer, decides to accept, coming forward so I can take his cock in my hands. It’s not new to me but will never grow old—his dick twitches when I touch it, almost as though it’s got a life of its own. I suck in my bottom lip, my teeth biting down on it, and swallow as I salivate at the thought of his taste in my mouth.
Coming closer, he puts his hand around the back of my head. “Suck me, darlin’.”
He doesn’t need to ask twice. Opening my mouth, I take him inside, first just the tip, licking the pre-cum that’s oozing out, relishing the flavour that’s uniquely him. My actions are making me even wetter than I was before.
As he presses my head forward, gently fisting his hands in my hair, I open wider, taking him in further, allowing him to control the pace. He begins to thrust in and out, gently, not forcing me, and I fondle his balls, which themselves seem to swell in my hands. As he pulls out, I massage his shaft before he pushes back in again. The rhythm we’ve adopted soon has him warning me he’s about to come. I don’t stop, and soon rivers of cum shoot down my throat. I lick him clean before pulling away.
“Fuck, darlin’. That felt so good.” He leans down and kisses me, ravishing my mouth.
Pushing me back onto the bed, he skates down and pulls my legs apart, and I whimper in expectation. He breathes a warm breath, and I arch off the bed, already so sensitive and aroused he doesn’t even need to touch me to tighten that bundle of nerves. Gently placing a first, then a second finger inside me, he curls them around, expertly finding that spot he’s learned so well. Massaging me gently, I feel a slow build of tension tightening my muscles.
Next, he lowers his mouth, his tongue swirling, teasing, flicking lightly over my clit. My back bows as I try to push up, a desperate hint I need more pressure, but instead he pulls away.
“Want to feel you come around me.”
“But I’m so close,” I complain with a whine.
“Patience,” he whispers.
He pulls his fingers out, and I feel the bed dip as he reaches over me to the drawer, which is now always fully stocked with condoms. There’s a gleam in his eyes as he tears open the packet, and I can’t tear my gaze away as he expertly smooths the latex over his cock, which has risen to the occasion once again. He pumps it slowly, noticing me watching him carefully, smirking, content in the knowledge of exactly what he’s doing to me.
Lifting my hips, he positions himself and then starts pushing inside, my arousal, which hadn’t diminished while he’d been preparing himself, increases rapidly to new highs. As he presses inside, an involuntary whimper escapes my lips as he stretches me, a delicious burn that makes me feel alive.
Then he thrusts home, touching my cervix, and as my muscles clench at his shaft, he rolls his head back at the sensation, for a moment keeping still. The scent of our joined sex reaches my nostrils, and I inhale deeply, the heavy breathing and soft moans—sounds of our lovemaking—reach my ears. I can still taste him in my mouth; there’s not one of my senses that isn’t full of him.
As he starts to move, sliding in and out, long, deep, slow strokes, I lose myself, unable to think of anything but the pleasure he brings. My womb’s contracting, my legs feel weak—it’s a slow build that’s taking me higher than I’ve ever been before. I don’t know how long he sensually tortures me, but just when I feel I can take no more he picks up the pace, thrusting into me. My head thrashes on the pillow in frustration as I need, I need…
And he knows, his fingers begin to strum my clit, flicking over it again and again and then, at last, giving me that pinch that takes me over the top.
I scream. My muscles grasp at his length, trying to keep him inside. He jerks, once, twice, and then again as he empties himself inside me.
Every fucking time it gets better.
My eyes have closed. I open them and look into his to see there’s a shadow there.
Worry causes a reciprocal flash of doubt in mine. Was he saying goodbye?
His hands come to cup my face. “Sophie, are you alright?”
We’re still joined, his softening cock not yet slid out of me.
I hardly want to speak, hardly dare ask, but I’d rather know now, while we’re still so intimately entwined.
My heart’s beating fast, not only from the exertion but from drea
d of the answer to the question I’m about to ask. “Where do we go from here, Wraith?” I hardly dare breathe, waiting for his reply.
My question doesn’t seem to take him by surprise. He lowers his head until his forehead is touching mine.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Wraith…
I knew it. I had felt she was pulling away. All day at the funeral it was as if Sophie had been standing right beside me but wasn’t really there. As if she was withdrawing, saying goodbye. As we lie, skin to skin, my flaccid cock slipping out of her, regretting I’m not able to keep our bodies so intimately joined for a longer time, I know I’ve got one shot at this to make it right. Does she want this to be the end? Or is that what she expects, now the reason for her being here is no longer valid?
Where do we go from here? That’s what she asked. I inhale a deep breath and lift my head, staring down into her lovely blue eyes. “Well,” I start to answer, but already pause, not wanting to rush this, “I thought we’d buy a house off the compound. Like the other brothers with the ol’ ladies.” Her eyes widen. “We’ll get you a car―you’ll have no problem driving an automatic.” Her mouth falls open. “If you want, you can get a job.”
“Wraith,” she says my name slowly.
I put my finger to her lips. “If you don’t want to work, that’s fine too. Wouldn’t have a problem pumping this belly full of babies.”
She’s blushing a deep red, but then a laugh bursts out of her. “Barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen, eh?”
“Works for me.”
She slaps me on the shoulder, but she’s grinning. She’s fucking grinning. “You want me to stay?”
“Always have, darlin’. Anything else was all in your head.”
“But after everything that’s happened, after the trouble I’ve caused for the club?”
“You caused no trouble, shit happens, babe.” I repeat the words Red had spoken earlier—they sum everything up. “No one here wants you to go. As you’re my ol’ lady, you’re part of the club.”
While she digests what I’ve told her, I decide to reveal my own insecurity. “Thought you wanted to leave me, darlin’. Thought you’d want to go back to England.”
Now it’s her hand caressing my cheek. “There’s nothing for me there, nothing I’d want to go back to. I love you. I love Arizona, and I even love the club.” She turns her head away and then brings it back. “I just hate what I’ve done to it. I thought you’d tell me I had to go.”
“Never!” As I smile my forceful denial, I think of everything we can do now. Those road trips I’d planned, the home we can make together. Fuck, I’m a lucky man.
My fingers idly rub over the back of her hand, her left hand. It’s not the first time this past week that the idea’s come to me, but the thought of tying her to me in every way I can is very attractive. I breathe in deeply, and then take the plunge,
“Sophie, darlin’, what do you say to being my wife.”
Her hand covers mine, her blue eyes are shining, her mouth parts slightly, then she closes it and opens it again before getting out the words. “Wraith, are you asking me to marry you?”
I grin. “Yeah, sorry it’s not a more fancy proposal—”
And then I can’t speak anymore as her lips are covering mine. After a moment I pull away. “Is that a yes?”
She laughs and lightly fists her hand to punch me in the arm. “Maybe I should have made you work harder for it, but life’s too short, isn’t it?” She sobers for a moment, and then that perfect smile lights up her face once again. “Yes, Wraith. Yes, I’ll marry you.”
It’s a week later, Sophie’s out with the old ladies, and the members are sitting in church. The usual shit being thrown around and Drummer trying to keep order, and it’s back to business as normal. We’re discussing patching-in three members from other charters, and remembering Buster, I give a caution about vetting them carefully.
Drum subjects me to his steely gaze. “Good point you’re making there, VP. I’ll give their presidents the third degree, don’t want them dumping their misfits here.”
Beef raises his hand. “One of the bouncers at the strip club has expressed an interest in prospecting.”
“He seem likely?”
“He’s got to get himself a proper bike. Rides a rice rocket at the moment.”
Cries of derision go swiftly around, and Drummer bangs his meaty fist hard on the table. “Shut the fuck up and let the man speak!”
“He competes in off-road events, so doubt he’ll get rid of it, but as long as he doesn’t bring it around here.” Beef continues, “He’s a good man, not too handsy with the dancers and gets on with his shit without needing to be told.”
“Well, when he’s got a decent ride bring him around, we’ll see what we make of him. Right, anything else?”
As is becoming typical at what we assume to be the end of the meeting, there’s an interruption. And again, it’s Mouse who leans forward. “I’ve been contacted via the dark web,” he starts.
What’s this going to be? Guns, drugs? I sit back and fold my arms. As far as I’m concerned, the dark web, recently, hasn’t held good news for us.
“Yeah, a woman made contact. She’s got a rep for being an ace hacker.”
“You finding it hard getting’ women in the real world, Mouse?” Dart laughs at his own joke.
Mouse flips him the finger. “She’s trying to get a trace on Sophie.”
Yes, since I’ve told them she’s staying, I’m educating them on the use of her real name. They still slip up at times, though. Sometimes just to get a rise out of her. But what he’s said is worrying, and I sit forward again. He’s certainly got my attention.
“Is the name of her friend, the one she was covering for, a Zoe Baker?” He directs this question at me.
I think. Zoe definitely, but I don’t think she ever gave me a family name. “Could be.” It’s the only answer I’ll commit to.
“Well this hacker, who won’t identify herself, says that a Zoe Baker is trying to find her.”
“Why contact you, Mouse?” It’s caught Drum’s interest.
Mouse shrugs. “She’s probably found out the same information that I did. I tracked the contract to the Demons, and she might have picked my connection up from there.”
We all swear as he mentions their name.
Drum’s eyes crease. “How she link it to you?”
“I can’t tell you exactly. This hacker might be talented enough to follow my footprint. Though naturally, I tried to hide it. But she’s got a rep, this woman. A good one—she’s fuckin’ genius. She knows Sophie’s being protected by an MC, and I think she’s narrowing down which it might be. And she’s not asking for much, only that this Zoe wants her to phone her. Given me the number to call.”
Drum glances at me and I stare back at him, trying to work it through in my head. With St John-Davies and his sidekick dead, there shouldn’t be anyone nefarious attempting to find her, and if it is her friend, then I know my woman would be over the moon.
Our prez is waiting for me to give my opinion, so I let him in on my thoughts. “Letting Soph ring the number isn’t admitting she’s here. Just that we know where she is.”
Rock groans. “And could invite shit down on us again.”
“You’re right to be cautious, Brother.” Drum strokes his beard. I wait for him to offer his view. It’s a few moments before he does, and I suspect he’s been running through possible implications before he speaks. “Mouse, get back to this hacker and ask her to tell you something only Zoe would know about Soph. Check it out that way. If it comes out it’s kosher, we’ll get Sophie to make the call. But on loudspeaker so we can all hear and judge what they’re saying. We don’t need more trouble. Now’s the time to move forward and heal.”
And if it is Sophie’s friend, the healing would be good for her too.
Mouse has been tapping on his keyboard; he looks up. “She’s online right now. Wraith, can you think of anything to ask?”
/>
It comes into my mind at once, and with a laugh, I say, “What was Sophie doing when she ticked something off on her bucket list with an electrician.”
We wait. This is going to be interesting.
It only takes a few seconds before Mouse laughs out loud and reads the response, “Well, Zoe’s hoping she’s got the right electrician, there could have been more than one she says, but she thinks you’re referring to fuckin’ him in a broom cupboard at her place of work.”
The laughter rings out from all directions, and I scowl, suddenly realising perhaps that wasn’t the best question to ask in front of my brothers.
“How you gonna top that, Wraith?” Slick waggles his tongue after throwing out his question.
“Shut the fuck up!” I swear back at him, and now it’s my finger jerking up in the air.
“Oh, and Zoe says to tell Soph that she gets the sex thing now.”
Blade snorts. “Hey, glad you said we could listen in on the call now, Drum. I can’t fuckin’ wait for this!”
Drum’s laughing along with the rest of us. “Neither can I, Brother. Wraith, get her down here now.”
Not quite sure whether to chuckle along with the rest of them or to dread what the phone call might reveal, I leave the meeting room and make my way to the kitchen, where I’m sure I’ll find my woman. And that’s where I do indeed find her, up to her elbows mixing something in a bowl. Sneaking up behind in the silent way I’m known for, I lift her hair to reveal her neck and give her a kiss.
“That better be you, Wraith, else my man will have something to say to you.”
“If it was anybody else, they’d be dead by now,” I tell her directly into her ear.
Now she turns to face me. “Is the meeting finished?”
“Almost, but can you come and join us for a moment?”
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