Rebel Wayfarers MC Boxset 4

by MariaLisa deMora

“I love you more,” she whispered. His phone buzzed again and she shook herself, giggling. “Best answer that, Mason. Lay your manly plans, because your woman wants to have her way with you not just tonight, but every night she can. I’m looking at this as a re-honeymoon.”

  “What?” He laughed again, still smoothing his palms over her skin. I’ll never get enough of her, he thought as he dipped his mouth to touch hers again. Never.

  “I don’t want to do anything silly like renewing our vows.” She stopped and stared at him. “Because the time we married, that was perfection. Can’t top it, not for me. But, I wouldn’t be against another long trip with you. Without the numb ass. Hence, the bus. But the nights? Oh, darling—” She trailed her fingertips up his chest, wrapped her fingers over his shoulder and used him to steady herself as she lifted to place her mouth at his ear, whispering, “those nights were the absolute best. No worries, no weight on your shoulders. Just you and me. This is a re-honeymoon trip, because I want that again. I want it before we get back to the business of what you need to do with the Rebels.” She fell back to her heels and stared up at him. “Gimme.” She blinked. “I want it. Those three weeks.” Narrowing her eyes, she wound her fingers through his belt loops and pulled him against her so his hard dick pressed tight to her stomach. Then she gifted him with that grin he loved when she felt how much he wanted her. “Gimme.”

  “God, you kill me, woman.” He pulled the phone out to see he’d missed two calls from Blackie, followed by a text of Call me. “Seems there’s business to take care of before I can deal with your shit. Can you give me a minute here, darlin’? I gotta settle some ruffled feathers and then I’ll be back for round two.”

  “Twenty-seven.” Shaking her head, Willa took a step backwards.

  “What?” So fuckin’ kooky.

  “Round twenty-seven. And that’s just from today. I love you, chunk of hunk.” Blowing him a kiss from her fingertips, she crooked her fingers in a tiny wave as she skipped away. He watched her angle towards a gaggle of women along the wall, including Sharon, Bexley, and Bethy. They gathered around her for a moment, then as if connected, each woman’s head came up and they stared at him. Willa waved at him again and then wrapped her arm around Bexley’s waist. She thrust her other hand out into the center of the ring of women, her animated face aimed at each one in turn. It took only seconds for the women to pile their hands on top and he watched as they counted up to something, hands flinging in the air, words unheard underneath the wash of laughter.

  “You’re so fucked.” Fury’s laughing voice came from beside him and Mason cut him a rueful glance. Fury held up his phone, showing Mason the same text message from Blackie.

  “Correction, we’re so fucked.” Mason smiled and shook his head. “Come to the office. Let’s get this over with.”

  Inside with the door closed, Fury gave Mason a long look before he walked all the way around the desk, ending up at the other end. He sighed and then gestured to the chair while he moved to sit on the arm of the couch along the facing wall. There was a long moment of silence, then Fury asked bluntly, “You want both?” When Mason didn’t respond immediately, Fury kicked his feet out, scuffed and worn boots tipping to the sides. He rolled his neck and rocked them back and forth for a moment. “It’s written on your face, brother. Go ahead and spit it out.”

  Mason watched him for a moment longer, then walked to the chair and gripped it with both hands, drawing it from under the heavy, wooden desk. With a practiced move, as if he had never sat anywhere else, he turned the chair and settled into the leather, allowing the cushions a moment to adjust to him. “Depends.” He’d tossed ideas around in his own head for two weeks now, and hadn’t come up with an easy way to open this discussion. “What do you think is happening here?”

  “Give me a little credit, Mason.” Fury laughed and lines of strain fell away from his face. “You’ve been an asshole to everyone except me for the past bit, but you aren’t talking to me at all. Not even small shit, even when my kids want to see their uncle. I don’t know what you think I did, but whatever it is, I’m willing to fix it. My Bethy needs her brother, and asshole—” He leveled a finger at Mason with a shake of his head. “—I need my rock. In all the years since you dumped this on me, you’ve been there for me. I could ask you anything without worrying you’d turn around and use the info for your own agenda, because we didn’t have agendas. There was you and there was me, and we walked the same path. Whatever’s best for the RWMC. Now? It’s like there’s a fuckin’ ocean between where I stand and you sit, and I had two guesses.”

  Fury folded the rest of his fingers against his palm, lifting the pointer from Mason to the ceiling. “One was we had some shit in the club that I hadn’t caught, and you were disappointed in me, but that didn’t hold water because no matter what you’d move to clear the club. That left number two.” He flipped his middle finger up. “Two is you’ve tired of sitting on the sidelines, and who could blame you? You set things in motion, but so much has happened with my face in the front line. Germany, and fuck me if I’m not proud of what we’ve done there. Four chapters, all fifty-plus members. Italy, which I hadn’t even seen coming. Australia, and there’s more pride to be had. Perth, Sydney, and Melbourne, all hosting RWMC chapters and good relations with existing or previous dominant clubs.” Mason leaned forwards and propped his elbows on the table. He cupped one scarred hand in the other, bent and scuffed knuckles wrapping around to support his chin. “So,” Fury finished, head lifted high. “Which is it?”

  “I might have started coloring in that roadmap, but you’re the one who followed it to the edges and filled in all the blanks. What you’ve done with the club is commendable.” Mason had been there during it all, but Fury was right, when he stepped back, his role had put him in the shadowy spaces along the edges of those accomplishments. “But, you got it wrong. It’s not about who gets the accolades, brother. It’s not about whose name is on the charter. Our oath says it all, and you know it. I got you, and you got me, and together we are the club. That’s the way it’s supposed to be for every member. Rebels forever,” and Fury chimed in, his voice low and tight, “Forever Rebels.”

  “Both, or what?” Mason watched as Fury’s fingers curled into fists balanced on each thigh. Silver rings glinted from his hands, and those knuckles were as scarred as Mason’s. “What’ll it be, President.”

  “That’s something I won’t miss,” Mason said. He felt his lips curving down. “The addition of ‘Past’ to the title. So,” he shook himself, “which would you like to keep? National or international?”

  “It’s on the table to keep something?” Fury looked surprised and Mason sighed.

  “Jesus, brother. This is actually just a fuckin’ discussion, not a beat out or a cutting party. It don’t have to hurt like a motherfucker unless you want that pain. So, tell me what you want, and let’s see if we can come to an agreement.” Mason blew air against his cupped palms and sat back, lowering his hands to the desktop. He traced the dents and lines carved in the surface. Most he’d been here for, knives drawn in anger or challenge, weapons tossed to the wood so they were visible to all. There were a few new ones, though. Changes to get used to, just like with everything. “So, what will it be?”

  “Tell me what you intend, Prez.” The title slipped from Fury’s lips more naturally, and Mason felt it resonate inside him. “Let’s sort it out together.”

  “International, at least. National, probably. You want local, then we’ll talk to Hoss, and I suspect he wouldn’t mind handing it over. It’d be your gift to me to keep you somewhere, so I don’t have to dick with these assholes alone.”

  Mason took a chance and grinned, relieved when his brother-in-law, confidant, and friend smiled back.

  This could have gone bad.

  Fury nodded at him and he grinned wider.

  It didn’t.

  “Now that’s settled, let me tell you why, then we’ll call Blackie and settle this old lady bus trip shit.”
>
  ***

  Hoss

  He watched Mason head into the office with Fury. Looking around the room, he found Myron who lifted his eyebrows. Hoss shrugged. Fuck if I know, Myron. Brute and Gunny were headed in his direction and Hoss stifled a silent groan. Sometimes it sucked being the one in the know, because lying to his brothers didn’t set well with him. “Before you start, I can only tell you Mason told to keep my yap shut.”

  That cut off whatever Brute had been about to say, but not Gunny who snorted and propped his sledgehammer-sized fists on his hips. “Fuck you. What’s going on?”

  “Yap. Shut.” He shook his head. “It’s not bad, that’s all I will say.” And that was probably eight words more than he should have based on the look on Gunny’s face. “Don’t start on me, brother. You know how it is.”

  “Fury didn’t look unhappy.” Brute’s raspy voice scarcely carried over the party noise, his ruined vocal cords forever damaged. “Guess we’ll know when they come back out.”

  “With so many of us leaving tomorrow, don’t count on our prez sayin’ anything.” Hoss ducked his head, glad his slip was easily covered by Fury being in that room. Shit. “What time are we rolling out, do you know?”

  “After a party like this? I’ve learned my lessons. We’ll aim at kickstands up by ten, but realistically it’ll be eleven or so. You not staying here tonight?” Brute glanced around the room. “Not that I blame you, it’s gonna be nuts to butt on the floor if half these yahoos keep drinkin’ like they are. Not enough unreserved rooms for’ em.”

  “I was going to go to Cassie’s. I haven’t told her yet that we’re leaving for a few weeks.” He grimaced. “Time I got off the pot on that one. She won’t be happy.”

  “Old ladies are like that. You shouldn’t make her be the last to know. Hey—” Gunny pointed over Hoss’ shoulder. “—Mason and Fury are comin’ out. They both look smug as shit. What the fuck does that mean, do you think?”

  “I think me telling you it’s good news was prophetic, that’s what I think.” Hoss grinned and turned to watch the two men stroll into the room. Mason gripped a chair and lifted it, thumping the legs against the floor like a gavel.

  “Hey. Shut up now.” Mason shouted and silence fell swiftly, club members and their family or guests going quiet.

  Hoss studied Fury’s face for a moment, glad to see an ease there that couldn’t be faked. Whatever had happened between them in that closed room had been good, and was welcomed by these men he trusted and believed in. It’s all good. He then turned his ear back to Mason’s speech.

  “We’re rollin’ a massive column tomorrow. Anybody needs any last-minute shit for their ride, you need to get with Brute and Myron ASAP, motherfuckers. Shoulda done it last week, but what the fuck ever. Your Road Captain will be checking your plates and tires, and I ain’t above puttin’ a blade in one I think it’s not gonna make the trip. We got our own fuckin’ garage, boys. Don’t make me open a can on ya.”

  That earned laughter from the edges of the room, and Hoss saw other members noting who reacted to the statement. Ten will get you twenty every one of them have baldies. He shook his head. The club would get the members’ bikes ready, including tire changes as needed.

  Mason continued, “We got a KSU to meet, and if you aren’t ready to go by then, it will be noted.” He raked his gaze left to right, pausing to stare at Hoss for a moment. “You need to bail early tonight and deal with your own shit, do so. Everyone staying to take care of the home front, know that you’re appreciated.” He straightened and thumped the chair a final time, then lifted one fist into the air. “Shiny side. Let me hear you now, yeah? Rebels forever—” the crowd roared, every man wearing a vest lifting their fist in response as they shouted out, “forever Rebels.”

  ***

  Cassie

  The deep-throated rumble of Hoss’ bike caught at her attention and Cassie turned her eyes towards the front windows in time to see the headlight flick off, darkness reclaiming the street. He had a key now, but she liked to greet him at the door so she muted her show as she pushed off the couch and made her way quickly to the entryway, pulling open the interior door. She knew the smile on her face was as big as her happiness at seeing him unexpectedly. When he’d called earlier today, he’d talked about something he needed to do, so she hadn’t anticipated his presence at her door.

  When she flipped on the porch light, his expression was solemn, and he grimaced, a look of pain that crossed his features so quickly she nearly missed it. A flinch of the muscles around his mouth, pulling down the corners of his lips. “Hey,” he said softly and reached for the screen door handle. Stepping inside, he laid a hand against her cheek, cupping and steadying her as he leaned in for a kiss.

  “Hey there.” She pursued his lips, making him smile when she gave him a resounding smack as she pulled away. “I didn’t expect to see you tonight. This is a nice surprise.”

  “Yeah?” Hand-in-hand, they moved towards the couch. He took the end cushion and she curled up against him, feet underneath her. He handed her the cup of tea she’d abandoned to open the door. “I missed you and wanted to see you. So—” He shrugged, the movement jerky, uncomfortable to watch. “—here I am.”

  “Is everything okay?” She leaned away slightly and studied his face. His eyes looked sad, and he held himself as if he were in pain. “No,” she murmured, answering her own question. “It’s not okay.” She reached across and grabbed the remote, then turned off the TV. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

  “I have a trip coming up.” He stared into her eyes, fingers tightening around her hand. “Soon.”

  Why would a trip have him sad? If it were for his art, that would be cause for celebration, even if he didn’t want to be away from home. If it were family, he wouldn’t sound as if it were such a chore. “How soon?” She shook her head. “What’s going on, Hoss? What are you not telling me?”

  “Soon-soon.” He trailed his fingertips up her arm, teasing the sensitive skin inside her elbow. “Tomorrow-soon.”

  “Tomorrow?” She pulled back, settling on her butt to face him, one leg crooked on the couch in front of her. “You’re going on a trip as of tomorrow? Where are you going?”

  “Yeah, tomorrow morning. The club is heading down to Texas in a huge group, one of Mason’s boys is playing in a show down there, and we want to show our support.” She watched his Adam’s apple bob for a moment, saw him grit his teeth together before he continued. “I’ll be gone a while, baby.”

  “How long is a while, Hoss?” The swooping feeling in her stomach was nauseating, Cassie felt as if she were unmoored. “You’re flying out tomorrow?”

  “Riding.” He blinked and sighed. “We’re riding.”

  “Okay.” She closed her eyes, breaking their stare, escaping the pain that was growing in his gaze. “Let’s go back a minute to where I’m happy to see you. If I…” She hesitated, then pushed through the weight of hesitation and fear that clutched at her throat. “If I come over there right now, will you kiss me like you mean it?”

  “Baby.” His voice broke and then his hands were on her face, her arms, her waist and he lifted her, pulling her towards him until she settled in his lap. She rested her hands on his shoulders and angled her chin when she felt him leaning into her. Then his mouth was on hers and he kissed her. Deep and slow, his tongue moved against hers, slipping and sliding and he tasted like everything she’d ever wanted in her life. Nipping at her lips, he caught the bottom one between his teeth and let it slip through gently. “Open your eyes, baby.”

  She blinked slowly, letting the wetness that had gathered there slide away. His homecoming had felt like a goodbye, but that kiss was all about being glad to be here. “That was what I needed.” The admission cost her little, but from the stricken look on his face, it hit deeply. “No, Hoss. I just meant, I needed you.” She arched up and kissed him softly, caressing him with her lips before she bit his bottom one, pulling back and grinning at him. “Hello there.” He ad
justed his arms and she nestled against his chest, resting her cheek over his heart, a feeling of contentment pooling in her heart. “I missed you.”

  “I missed you, too.” His voice rumbled through his chest like his bike had the night and she smiled at the mental comparison. “I’m gonna miss you a lot.”

  “How long will you be gone? Since you’re riding down, I’m guessing it’s not a fast trip?” He shook his head. “Do you have everything sorted out for the kids?”

  His chuckle rumbled, too. “We’re expecting three weeks. Gonna be a long-ass three weeks, I can tell you that right now. And yeah, I’ve got a family friend gonna stay with Faynez when her brother’s out of town for games.” Softer, slower, he asked, “You gonna miss me, Cassie?”

  “More than you can know.” He sighed under her ear and his arms tightened around her in a silent hug. “What time tomorrow?”

  “In the morning. I told Mason I would get there early to help with everything.” He sighed again. “All the boys said to tell you hello.”

  “You got to see them? That’s awesome. When?” His breathing was slow and even, and his hold on her made her feel safe. “I wish I could have seen them.”

  “Yeah, they were at the party tonight. Tug told me to tell you to wear your lid, don’t matter how short the ride.” He chuckled. “I told him you were smart enough to figure that out on your own.”

  Cassie didn’t respond to the message from their shared friend. She was stuck back at his casual announcement. “There was a party?”

  “Uh-huh. At the clubhouse. A preride kickoff kind of thing.”

  Her eyes stung, and she blinked. “So a guys-only kind of preride kickoff kind of thing?”

  “Nah, bunch of the boys had their old ladies there, couple of guys brought the whole family.” He chuckled again, finding something funny in those memories he wasn’t sharing. “Just a casual thing.”

  She pushed off his chest, balancing on his knee as she stared at him. “So a party for girlfriends? That kind of preride kickoff kind of thing?”