by Jessica Ames
“Okay. We’ll vote on it. Those in favour of Briella becoming Daimon’s old lady.”
I can’t stop the grin that plays on my face as one by one my brothers all vote for Briella to be mine. I just have to tell her now.
22
Briella
I’m sitting on the sofa scoffing a pint of ice cream when there’s a knock on the door. Layla’s at work—she’s doing nights this week at the care home. I haven’t been alone a single evening, though. Every night like clockwork, Daimon turns up at my door, my white knight, determined to protect me from my nightmares.
I’m not sure that I hate the fact, either. I’m becoming comfortable around him, needing his presence like I need my next breath. He’s becoming a vital part of my everyday life and while that should scare me, it doesn’t. I love having him around. I love him.
I wasn’t sure if what I was feeling before was love, but I’m starting to concede it is. I feel on edge when he’s not around and my heart gallops when he’s near. He makes my body feel warm and needy when we cuddle together on the sofa, and I almost detonate when we kiss. I want to do more with him, but he’s the one taking things slowly. It’s frustrating.
Obviously, I don’t move fast enough because a fist hammers on the door again. I get to my feet, slipping the tub on the coffee table, and move in my sock-covered feet to the door.
I roll to my toes and peer through the peep hole. It is Daimon. That makes my heart skip a beat. It’s weird how much I miss him when he’s not around. I never felt this way about anyone before, and while I don’t have a lot of experience in the man department, I have dated a few boys before. None have come close to Daimon. He’s so intense, so protective.
I pull the door open and I’m greeted by his handsome face. He’s so gorgeous, with that strong line, a layer of scruff that has moved past a five o’clock shadow.
“Hi,” I say on a breath, my voice sounding husky.
He steps into the flat and kicks the door shut behind him. Then he’s on me, attacking my mouth. His big, strong hands cup my cheeks as he plunders my mouth, taking from me everything and giving me more back.
I melt into his touch, needing him as desperately, craving him. He will usually kiss me when he arrives, but this is something else. His movements are frenzied, frantic and determined. He wants to have his fill of me, and I feel like he could devour me whole.
My knees tremble as he slips his tongue into my mouth, fighting for control with mine. Then he hoists me up his body. Instinctively, my legs wrap around his waist as his hand moves to the back of my neck, the other slipping around my back. My pussy throbs as he moves us to the sofa and sits, so I’m straddling his legs. I feel like my skin is on fire with every touch he gives me.
When he pulls back, finally needing to come up for air, he gives me a lazy smile. I’m sure mine is love-drunk.
“What was that for?” I pant, trying to catch my breath.
“Be mine, Briella.”
“I am yours.”
“Be mine in more than name.” He kisses my neck and I groan the moment his lips touch the skin there. “Be my old lady.”
I pull back from him slightly and his hands come to steady my hips. “You want me to be your old lady?” my words come out in a rush of air.
I know all about claiming in this world and what it means. I understand the gravity of being chosen by a brother to become their partner.
“Yeah, baby, I do.”
“But we’ve never even… you know?” I leave off the ‘had sex’ part, but he seems to understand what I’m saying.
He runs his fingers through the hair at the back of my neck. “Don’t give a fuck about that.”
“But what if I’m really bad at it. My only experience was…” I break off with a frown. My only experience of sex was with Sin. He hadn’t been kind. He hadn’t whispered sweet words while he penetrated me. He’d taken what he wanted without a second thought of my comfort. It had hurt and it had left me feeling violated. I know Daimon would never do that to me, but I have to admit, I’m terrified of taking that next step. Kissing seems safe, easy, but I also know a man like Daimon isn’t going to be content with just that.
“Hey, hey, don’t even go there,” he soothes. “Ain’t expecting shit off you. When you’re ready, we can move things on, but not until you’ve done all the healing you need to do. You have your first counselling session tomorrow, right?”
I nod. I’m nervous about it too. The thought of having to open up to a stranger about what was done to me fills me with itchy fear I can’t shake.
“I’ll drive you there, okay?”
“You don’t have to.”
“Know I don’t have to, baby, but I want to.”
The butterflies in my stomach take flight at his words. Knowing I won’t have to face it alone makes me feel so much better about it.
“I’m nervous.”
“It’ll be good for you to talk about this shit, to start processing and dealing with everything.” His fingers move on my hips, sending shivers of pleasure straight to my core.
“You really want me to be your old lady?”
He grins. “Club voted already on it.”
His words have my brows arching. “The club voted on it?”
“Yeah, baby. The club has to agree to anyone coming in—that includes old ladies. Just how it is. That’s the life I lead.”
I clamour off his lap, pulling my hand away as he tries to reach for it to stop me. I shouldn’t be upset. They obviously had to do this for Lucy and Sasha, but my heart feels like it’s shattering.
He watches me move away, putting distance between us, his mouth pulling into a displeased line.
“If they’d voted no would you even be asking me this?”
His brows come together and I can tell I’ve shocked him with my words, but I feel like he’s only asked me because his brothers gave him the go ahead. That slices through me like a knife. Rejection hits my belly like a ten-tonne anvil and I know I’m acting like I’ve lost the plot, but I can’t help the sting of pain that lances through my chest.
“Briella...”
“Would you?” I push.
He lets out a long breath as he studies me. “Babe, I would have taken the kutte off my back if they hadn’t agreed. I love you.”
I blink at him, my eyes filling with tears, my words choking the back of my throat. Did he really just say what I think he said?
“You love me?” I whisper, unable to comprehend the truth.
He leans forward on the sofa, his hands clasped between his parted legs. He looks so handsome, so masculine right now, I want to kiss him senseless, but I force myself to stay in position.
“You don’t have to say it back. Don’t want you to ever say anything you ain’t willing to say.”
My breath catches in my throat as I shake my head. “I love you too.”
He pulls me back into his lap and I go willingly. His arms wrap around me, pulling me closer as he breathes into my hair. “You’re mine. No vote was ever going to change that, baby.”
He kisses my forehead and I melt against him. He might be a biker and he might live on the wrong side of the law more often than the right, but I know for a fact I would do anything for this man, just as he would do anything for me. And for the first time ever, I feel something I’ve never felt.
Hope.
23
Daimon
I’m sitting outside Brash, one of the businesses that pay us protection money, when I feel something tingle between my shoulders. I’m a man who has lived my life relying on trusting my gut instinct, so when all my instincts start flashing red warning lights, I sit up and take notice, knowing never to ignore that feeling.
Casually as I can, I scan the urban sprawl, the high-rise towers looming on the horizon behind the squat buildings in front. I can handle whatever comes my way, but Titch is inside the bar getting the payment from the owner while I’m waiting outside, covering the entrance. I’m not sure if he’s i
n danger too. The brother is a good fighter, but I’m not one to leave a man behind.
I lean against my bike, folding my arms over my chest as if I don’t have a care in the world, but my eyes are watchful. I don’t see anything odd, but the feeling still persists, still itching just beneath my skin.
Titch appears through the staff entrance door a moment later, drawing my attention. The feeling doesn’t disappear, but it doesn’t feel as heightened with the brother striding towards me. When he reaches the bikes, scrubs a hand over his face.
“Problems?” I ask, even though I don’t expect any. Brash is our most regular clientele and as far as I’m aware, we’ve never had a problem with them paying up. It’s the only reason I allowed Titch to go in alone.
“Not a single one,” Titch says, snagging his helmet off the back of his bike.
I pull my bandanna up over my face and shove my helmet on my head. The prickling between my shoulders continues and I peer around this time, feeling fucking irritated that I’m being watched.
“You okay, brother?” Titch’s eyes follow the same path as mine, his body suddenly on alert too. Years of working together, of being closer than blood means we can read each other.
“Just a weird as fuck feeling. It’s probably nothing.”
Titch shifts a little on his bike, considering he’s got a shit ton of money stashed inside his kutte, I understand why he’d be anxious.
“Let’s fucking roll.”
We head back to the clubhouse, but I keep my eyes split between the road and my side mirrors, that uneasy feeling not leaving me. I don’t understand what the fuck it’s about, but I don’t question it either. Nothing happens, though. We reach the clubhouse compound without encountering any trouble, but I still feel on edge.
“Can you handle the money?” I ask as both of us pull our bikes into the first available space. “Brie has her first counselling session today. I want to be there for her.”
Titch nods. “Yeah, I got this. Go be with your girl.”
Knowing Titch will put the money in the club’s safe, I rev the engine of my bike and zip back through the gates, unable to stop the grin from crossing my face from Titch calling her mine. Fuck, that feels good.
As I ride, my tension starts to leach out of me and by the time I reach Briella’s flat, I’m mostly calm and no longer on edge, unsure what made me that way in the first place. It’s probably just years of living this life, dealing with paranoid thoughts that everyone is out to get you.
I cut the engine, kick the stand down and climb off the back of the bike before I head towards Brie’s front door.
She has the ground floor flat in the building, which I don’t like. It’s not safe. I’m surprised Levi didn’t kick up a fuss about it, but I doubt his hard-headed sister would have listened to him.
I rap my knuckles on the wood and it takes a few seconds to hear movement on the other side before the door opens. It’s not Brie that greets me, but Layla. There’s no love lost between us, so I’m not surprised when she narrows her gaze on me. She doesn’t like me or my club. After learning what happened to Briella, I’m not sure I blame her anger, even if it is misplaced.
“Are you going to let me in?” I demand when she doesn’t move aside to let me in.
“Brie told me you’re making her your old lady.”
Fuck me, is this bitch about to give me ‘the talk’? Is she going to threaten me into looking after her friend or else I’ll have to deal with her? That’s hilarious.
Layla’s a slip of a girl. I could snap her with a look.
“Yeah, I am.” I let the challenge sit in the words.
“I’m glad it’s you.”
Her words surprise the fuck out of me. “Wait a second, you hate my fucking guts.”
“Whatever gave you that impression?” she asks in a lofty tone that pisses me off.
“You’ve been bitching about my club from the moment I met you.”
“You’re not like that bastard. I can see that now. You love Briella. It’s written all across your face. You love my girl and we won’t have a problem. You hurt her—”
“Yeah, yeah,” I interrupt her. “You’ll cut my balls off. I get it.”
“I was going to say cock, but balls works.”
“Layla, quit threatening Daimon.”
At Brie’s voice, my head snaps up as she moves to the door.
“I’m just doing my due diligence as your bestie.”
She laughs and fuck me if that sound doesn’t go straight to my cock. She looks stunning today. She’s in black jeans that are ripped at the knees and thighs, a pair of red canvas shoes and a tee for a band I’ve never heard of. She’s got short biker jacket over the top of it that makes her look hot as hell. Her makeup is flawless, dark, smoky looking and her hair is braided down one side.
My mouth waters as I take in those glossy plump lips that look so kissable. I snag her by the jacket and pull her against me, taking her mouth. I can’t stop myself from plundering her. When I finally pull back, I lean my forehead against hers, our breaths mingling in the few inches between our mouths.
“I missed you,” I tell her.
“You saw me this morning.”
I did. I stayed over last night, as I do every night, but even the morning without her was hard. Any time away from her is hard.
I thread my fingers through her hair. “Are you ready to go to your appointment?”
Her body stiffens beneath my touch. I know she’s nervous about talking to her counsellor, but it’s important for her to do this so she can learn to deal with her emotions in a healthy way, one that doesn’t revolve around getting shit-faced just to get through the day. I think Layla has a lot of guilt about enabling her to do that, about pushing them to go out drinking. She should have. She should have helped Brie.
“I’m nervous.”
“Don’t be nervous.” I push her hair off her face and kiss her softly. “I’ll be outside the whole time. You need me, I’ll be right there.”
Relief floods her face and I relax as she starts to.
“I’m glad you’re coming with me.”
“Me too, Brie. Get your shit, so we can head out.”
She moves back into the room and grabs her bag off the chair. When her back is to me, Layla puts two fingers to her eyes and then points them at me. I’m watching you.
What the fuck is wrong with this bitch?
Brie moves back to me and I slip my hand around her waist as we walk through the front door.
“Thank you, for coming with me to this. It means a lot to me.”
“Baby, you don’t have to thank me. I want to be here.”
That is the honest truth. I want to be with her, I want to help her through this shit. I don’t want her to suffer on her own, trying to deal with this shit. I have no idea how hard her counsellor will push her, but I want to be there to pick up any pieces that might shatter. I know today isn’t going to be fucking easy.
I lead her over to my bike and free my helmet, plus the spare I brought for her. I need to see about getting her one of her own. She’s going to be on the back of my bike a lot. She needs one that fits right. I’ve never laid my bike down before, but it’s a risk in a city as big as London. Cage drivers are fucking lunatics. If I lay the bike down with her on the back, I want to know she’s protected. Really, she should be wearing boots, but I can’t tell her to change her shoes, not today.
She fumbles a little with the strap and I take it from her, adjusting it then helping her slide it onto her head.
“You’ll need this too.”
I hand her one of my bandannas. This one has a red reaper on the front. I help her tie it behind her neck and fix it into place. Her chest is heaving at every touch and fuck me, do I wish we had time to go inside and fool around.
We don’t, though. So I make sure she’s sorted before I pull on my own bandanna and helmet.
I climb on the back of the bike and she swings her legs over, sitting up close behind m
e. I love the feeling of her at my back. She is perfect in every way and I love having her there. She fits perfectly, moulded to my spine, her hands wrapped around my abdomen.
Never thought I’d want a woman to ride bitch behind me, but with Briella, it feels right.
“Ready?” I ask over my shoulder.
She pats my belly, telling me she is, so I hit the throttle. The bike roars beneath us as we merge into the traffic. I don’t like lane splitting with her on the back, so I don’t do it. Drivers are too fucking careless and I’m not risking her life, just to shave off a few minutes on the ride.
As we ride, my skin starts to prickle again. I glance in my mirrors, but all I can see is rows of cars and a red bus behind me. There’s nothing else that stands out, but the sensation continues. Fear ripples through my belly. I’m not scared of shit happening to me. I’ve lived my life walking on the edge of danger without a second thought, but I have Brie on the back of my bike. Nothing can happen to her.
We make it to the counsellor’s office without incident. Brie gets off the back of the bike before I kick down the stand and cut the engine. When she’s removed her helmet and bandanna, she hands me the former and shoves the latter in her bag. I attach both our helmets to the security lock on the back of the bike, then I take her hand.
Together, we walk into the small building. It’s a terraced house, sandwiched between a solicitor’s office and what looks like a recruitment business. It looks pleasant enough from the outside and as long as they help Briella, I couldn’t care less what the building looks like.
Still feeling edgy, I turn and peer over my shoulder, scanning the parking area, but I don’t see anything. The feeling from earlier has come back, stronger. I can feel it in my bones. Something is fucking off.
“You okay?” she asks, and I can hear the concern in her words.
Shaking myself, I nod. “Yeah, baby. I’m good.”
I release Brie’s hand so we can step through the door. We move to the reception desk and Brie signs in while I stand there, my eyes going to the window. What the fuck is going on?