Own the Wind

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Own the Wind Page 19

by Kristen Ashley


  “You’d give up your brothers for a woman?” Brick asked incredulously and Shy’s eyes moved to him.

  “Abso-fucking-lutely.”

  “Seriously?” Boz asked.

  “Not any woman,” Shy nodded my way then invited, “Now, ask again.”

  God.

  God!

  God, I loved my guy.

  “Holy fuck,” Tug whispered.

  Shy looked at Dad. “You vote. Let me know. But you move to take my family from me, Tack, know this, you’re dead to me. Tab loves me, it’ll suck for her to have a man separate from her family but she’ll deal. But you call this vote, no matter which way it goes, you will be dead to me.”

  Oh my God.

  “No. No, no, no,” Tyra breathed again.

  “Shy,” I forced out.

  He ignored me and his eyes moved through the men standing behind my Dad. “I do not get in your business. I might make a call about what you do and who you fuck but I keep that shit to myself. And some of your shit is almost as close to home”—his eyes pinpointed Hop—“and you know it.”

  What did that mean?

  Shy didn’t explain but he did continue to look through the men and speak.

  “Not once has this Club had a sit-down about how they feel about who a brother has in his bed. Tack calls that sit-down, you boys sit down, I’ll say now, it doesn’t matter how the vote goes. You sit down, your message will be clear. You’ll get my cut. Part of bein’ in this family is me bein’ free to be me. Not me answering to my brothers about the woman I fall in love with or, actually, any-fucking-thing. You take my freedom away from me, there is no longer any reason for me to be here. So I won’t be.”

  Shy looked back at Dad.

  “Just so I’m clear, if you make it Tab or my cut, I pick Tab. You’ll get my cut and you, personally, will not ever, brother, not ever again see me.”

  “Well, fuckin’ hell,” a familiar voice I hadn’t heard in years and wished it had been decades said from behind me. “I’m gone for-freakin’-ever and it looks like Tabby’s still causin’ mayhem and heartbreak.”

  Woodenly, I turned to see my mother, defying all reason because I knew that not only Dad but all of Chaos threw down with her and told her she was banned from their property.

  I felt the unhappy vibe ratchet up to apocalyptic levels then I felt movement, looked over my shoulder, saw Dad shifting toward Mom but Shy was already on the move.

  I’d never seen anyone move that fast.

  One second he was six feet behind me, the next he was passing me.

  I knew why. Even though it happened well before Shy and I hooked up, all the brothers knew my mom and I didn’t get along. They knew how she tore me down. They knew how relentless she was with that. They knew the hateful things she’d said to me, done to me, how it made me feel and how it made me act out when I was younger.

  It was my doing, my fault, but it was my mom who made me feel like nothing, and then I found myself at sixteen with a boyfriend way too old for me who hit me when I didn’t put out.

  It wasn’t just me. Mom threw down with Tyra, they even had a catfight in the forecourt of Ride, and she was always a screaming bitch to Dad.

  In the end, she tried to sell custody of me and Rush to Dad in order to get her now-dead husband out of debt with drug dealers. I wasn’t supposed to know that, but family talked and Chaos was family, so I found out. Dad had made the deal in order to get her out of our lives, mine especially, because her abuse cut me that deep.

  Dad succeeded. She’d disappeared. But her memory lingered.

  As for me, everyone in the Club knew if it wasn’t for their love, Dad’s love, Tyra’s, things might have gone differently for me. Acting out against the unrelenting cruelty from Mom, I was on the wrong path and if I didn’t have their care, right now, I could be like Natalie, coked up or doing ice, hanging with people that were no good for me.

  Or worse.

  I knew this. Everyone knew this.

  And my man loved me.

  With him advancing on Mom the way he did, I would get an indication of just how much.

  “She does not…” Shy’s hand hit Mom in the chest and Mom scuttled back, face filled with shock, arms wheeling “… see you…” he shoved Mom straight into the door so her back banged against it loudly before it swung open. Shy pushed her off. She went reeling and Shy finished, “Unless she fuckin’ wants to see you. Heed me, bitch, you are not the mother of my children, so I do not have to go gentle with you. I do not know why the fuck you’re here. I also don’t care. All I know is, Tab does not see you or hear your voice unless she wants to. Now, I can teach you that lesson now or you can get in your fuckin’ car and go. Decision. But remember, not a man in this building will step up for you, so take that into account when you decide how you’re gonna spend the next five seconds.”

  I hurried through the still-open door, my mouth open to say something but I didn’t get the chance. Mom stared at Shy for one of those five seconds then she actually raced to her car the other four.

  As she slammed her car door, started up, screeched out, and sped away, I looked at Shy’s profile and I pressed my lips together, getting why Mom did not dillydally.

  Shy turned to me. I braced. He lifted a hand, hooked me at the back of the head, and pulled me to him.

  Lips to my hair, he said quietly, “See you at home.”

  I tipped my head back, caught his eyes, and nodded.

  He let me go, didn’t look back, sauntered to his bike, and I watched him start it and I kept watching him, my heart racing, my throat burning, my brain not functioning, as he roared off.

  “Tabby,” Dad’s rumbly voice came from behind me, and I whirled on him.

  I looked up at a handsome face I adored, into eyes I saw in the mirror every day, and before he could say another word, I gave it to him.

  “I love you. I couldn’t live without you. But if you take away the only family Shy has outside his brother—” I pulled in breath and finished “—I will never, ever forgive you.”

  On that, I turned and raced to my car, running flat out in my Crocs (which, frankly, wasn’t easy). Then I got in it, wasted no time, and drove away from a place that had always been home to me.

  But it would be home no longer if they took it from my man.

  Therefore, I cried all the way to my apartment, but I sat parked outside, sucked it up, yanked napkins out of my glove compartment, and cleaned up my face before I went upstairs to my place.

  Shy’s bike was there, and I had to be strong for my man.

  * * *

  I ran my tongue up the underside of Shy’s cock and was just about to wrap my mouth around the tip when he knifed up. I suddenly was hauled up his body. He rolled us and when he got me on my back, his head came up, his eyes holding mine, he slid slowly inside me.

  My eyes drifted half closed and my lips parted.

  Shy moved, slowly, his strokes loving caresses. One of his forearms on the bed, his other hand came up to frame the side of my head. He moved his thumb along my hairline, and his eyes held mine as he made love to me.

  I pulled my legs back, knees bent, and he slid in deep. As my hands moved over his skin, I lifted my head to get his mouth, and he didn’t make me work for it. He gave me his mouth as he kept slowly, sweetly, beautifully taking me.

  After my kiss, his lips slid down my cheek to my ear where he whispered, “Love you, Tabby.”

  Oh yes.

  I pressed the insides of my thighs to his hips, wrapped my arms tight around him, and whispered in his ear, “Love you too, Shy.”

  His mouth moved below my ear and he murmured against my skin, “Everything to me.”

  God, God, I loved my guy.

  “And you’re everything to me,” I breathed then suddenly, out of the blue, it came over me. Fierce and huge, I cried out and sunk my teeth into the skin of his neck.

  He kept taking me through my climax and when I was done, he lifted his torso from mine, giving himself m
ore leverage to slam his hips into me. He moved his hand over my cheek, his fingers drifting over my mouth, then down to my jaw, my neck, my chest, where it curled around my breast.

  All the while, his eyes never left my face.

  He was, quite simply, beautiful.

  His strokes deepened, got faster, his face darkened, and I knew it was building for him, so I lifted my hands and ran my fingertips low over his flat abs. His thumb slid over my nipple, sending shivers through me, and my tongue came out to wet my upper lip.

  “Gorgeous,” he growled, pumping faster, harder.

  “Yeah,” I agreed breathlessly.

  Not me.

  Him.

  Amazing.

  “Fuck,” he grunted, and I knew he was close.

  I was right. His head jerked back but his hips kept slamming in, even harder. He kept thrusting as I watched his head drop forward and his teeth sink into his lower lip and, seriously, watching him come nearly took me there again.

  Finally, he drove deep, stayed there, and collapsed on top of me.

  I took his weight happily, my arms surrounding him, holding him close.

  He didn’t make me take it long. He shifted to a forearm and breathed heavily in my ear.

  Finally, as his breathing evened, his hand, still curled around my breast and crushed between us, slid up to my neck. He lifted his head and looked at me.

  “Like you comin’ with me, Tabby,” he said gently.

  I knew he did. He tried to make me hold out every time unless he was in the mood to watch. Usually, I could manage this, though I had to admit, sometimes I failed.

  “Well, I had no control over that, boss,” I replied quietly. “It came out of the blue but, that said, sometimes I like watching too.”

  He grinned, bent his head, touched his mouth to mine and lifted up, still grinning.

  Then he asked, “ ‘Boss’?”

  “ ‘Biker boss’ is too wordy.”

  His grin hit smile level, then he remarked, “You know, no condoms means I don’t have to haul my ass outta bed after just comin’ hard and deal with it. I get to be lazy.”

  He was teasing.

  This was good and bad. Good because he was obviously in a mellow mood regardless of what went down that day. Bad because I had a feeling he was searching for that mellow mood, keeping hold of us and only us so he wouldn’t have to think about what went down.

  “You could be a gentleman and haul your ass out of bed anyway in order to get a washcloth and take care of me,” I suggested, and something hot and phenomenal moved through his eyes even as his hips gave a slight jerk and his face got closer to mine.

  “You want me to do that?” he asked.

  I was being flippant, going with his mood but suddenly, I wanted him to do that. Like, a lot.

  “Yeah,” I whispered.

  His face got closer so he could kiss me, wet and deep. Then he lifted his head to watch my face as he slowly slid out. I gave him a show I suspected was a lot like what he gave me when I was sliding him out of me. Then he bent, kissed my chest, the underside of my jaw, and he rolled out of bed.

  I shifted to my side, curled up, and watched him move to the bathroom. I stayed where I was so I could watch him coming back.

  He climbed in, settling on his side in front of me and ordered softly, “Hitch your leg over my hip, baby.”

  I did as he told me. His body shifted slightly but his eyes never left my face, and I felt the warm washcloth between my legs.

  It felt nice.

  I knew this registered on my face when he leaned in closer. “You like that.”

  It was a statement.

  My hips pressed into his hand. “Yeah.”

  His head slid even closer, his lips hit mine, and his tongue slid in my mouth. The washcloth moved between my legs, then Shy shifted it somehow and there was no washcloth, just his fingers between my legs. He slid one finger inside and I moaned into his mouth, my hips twitching. I moaned again when his finger slid out and lightly glided over my clit before it and the washcloth were gone.

  He lifted his lips from mine. “Be back, sugar.”

  I held his eyes and nodded.

  His lips curved and he rolled off the bed.

  Repeat of lying there, happily, watching him leave and come back but this time, when he slid in beside me, he settled on his back. He pulled me over him so my chest was to his chest, my cheek was to his shoulder, my face in his neck, and his arm was around me, hand cupping the cheek of my behind.

  “We’re doin’ that every time,” he declared, and I smiled.

  “Works for me.”

  His fingers at my bottom squeezed.

  I pulled in breath and trailed my fingers along his opposite shoulder.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  “Healthy or unhealthy, I’m not gonna think about it now,” he answered instantly. “Just came. Just shared something special with my girl. You’re naked on me. Gonna think about that. What happens will happen. I’ll deal with it then.”

  “Okay,” I said softly.

  His other arm curled around my back.

  I looked for something else to talk about, and something came to mind I’d wanted to ask him since he mentioned his grandmother days ago. It might not be the best conversational gambit, but at least it wasn’t talk of what was happening at Chaos.

  Still, I requested first, “Can I ask you something?”

  “Anything,” he replied immediately, and I smiled into his neck.

  “May not be fun,” I warned quietly and his arms gave me a squeeze.

  “Not always gonna be fun, baby. Ask anyway.”

  I nodded, my cheek sliding against his skin then I asked, “Why didn’t you go to your grandparents after your folks died?”

  His arm around my back moved up, his fingers tangling in my hair then drifting through before he answered.

  “Don’t know. Mom and Dad made provisions. They picked my uncle. I figure they didn’t get my uncle was weak or they never woulda left us to that. Mom didn’t have any brothers or sisters. Her mom and dad were divorced. Gramps lived up in Wyoming. Mom grew up there until her folks divorced, and Grams moved them down to Denver ’cause she found a job here. Grams was cool, she was also around, took Lan and me to dinner, out to do shit. We never shared how bad it was ’cause we were kids. We didn’t know how, and by the time we could the damage was done. That said, I think she knew shit was not good ’cause she was around as often as she could be. Gramps was cool too. He wasn’t around as much ’cause he was in Wyoming. But he came down, got me my first bike for my fourteenth birthday, a dirt bike. He also gave me my first Harley, bought it thirdhand from a friend, fixed it up, got a buddy to help him bring it down to me. I’m still tight with both of ’em, even though he’s still up in Wyoming and she moved to Arizona a few years ago. Dad’s parents moved to California when he was in college. We didn’t see ’em as much and still don’t.”

  “Until you mentioned your grams the other day, I’d never heard you mention them,” I noted.

  “There’s no reason for that, sugar. They just never came up.” He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and offered, “You get to a place where you can take some time off, I’ll drive you up to meet my gramps. He’ll like you.”

  “That’ll be cool,” I replied softly.

  “Maybe, if Lan can get the time, we can all go down to Arizona this winter. Get away from the cold. See Grams.”

  I smiled again. “That’ll be cool too.”

  “It’s a plan,” he muttered.

  Yeah, it was.

  I pressed closer, took in a deep breath, then said what I had to say to get it out of the way, “You don’t wanna talk about it, we won’t. I’m just going to say, I’m gonna have a chat with Dad—”

  He closed his arms tight around me and cut me off by saying, “Tabby, baby, look at me.”

  I lifted my head to look at him and I saw his eyes serious on me.

  “He’s gotta decide, as my brother, if he
trusts me. Not you gettin’ in his face and puttin’ pressure on, not you takin’ time to explain it rationally. I made the decision I wanted to join. I approached them. When I did, I put myself out there so, before they took me on, they knew everything about me. I did my time as a recruit. I do my part at the shop and in the garage. I take my orders when they come and I have never questioned them. When I get the call, I take a brother’s back and I never question that either. I have not given them one reason to question me. I get where your father is at. I also know he’s gotta get his shit together, think this through as a brother as well as a father and make the right decision. What I said at the Compound today is the God’s-honest truth. I didn’t become a member of the Club to have anyone tellin’ me how to live my life. So that’s a brother thing, Tab, and, it sucks if you don’t like it but that’s how it’s gotta be.”

  I lived the life all my life, I knew enough to know this was true, so I nodded.

  Shy kept going. “More, he’s gotta come to terms with the fact that his only girl is all grown up and he’s gotta give her the freedom to live her own life. What he’s doin’ to me is uncool. I get him bein’ angry. He thought we were hidin’ for the wrong reasons. But what he’s doin’ to you is more uncool. What he needs to get is that there are now parts of your life that are none of his business. I am not a father. I don’t know how it feels to let go of a child in that way, especially your only girl. What I do know is, I acted on assumptions about shit about you years after it happened, it was wrong and… justified… I lost you. Now, he’s doin’ the same thing seven fuckin’ years after it happened, and he’s gotta clue in you’re not that girl pullin’ shit because things with your mom are extreme. You’re an adult making decisions about your future, and you get to decide when you’ll share.”

  That was the damned truth.

  “You’re right,” I agreed.

  “Yeah,” he replied quietly.

  “Okay, I’ll let it be,” I gave in, and his lips curved as his eyes got soft and his arms gave me a squeeze.

  “Thanks, baby.”

  I smiled at him. Then I tipped my head to the side and asked, “What was that with Hop at the Compound?”

  His eyes held mine, he waited a beat, then he shared, “Hop is nailin’ Lanie.”

 

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