Always (Wesson Rebel M.C. Series)

by Colt, Shyla

  “I hope this is his wake-up call, or he’s going to lose the best thing that ever happened to him.” Danny’s face twists in disgust.

  “You think she’d leave him?” I whisper.

  “She hasn’t been fully present for a long time.” He swirls the coffee around in his mug.

  I watch him and once again, admire his large hands. I love a strong, well built man. Those hands brought me to the heights of pleasure, but they also made me feel cherished and loved.

  “Come on, we’re here and nothing’s certain. Let’s let the what if’s go and enjoy our morning,” Danny says, reaching across the table to grasp my hand.

  The action draws my attention to the circle of my name around his wrist. When a biker stakes his claim, you become the most important thing to him, next to the club. I press my skin to his, allowing our names to rest against one another. Getting a matching tattoo is really the only way a woman can reciprocate to a man who marks his skin with her name.

  Present

  “You okay?”

  Brain’s soft voice brings me back to reality. I look up at the gentle eyes of my father and shake my head. “Not really, church over already?”

  “Officially. I wanted to take a minute to check on you. It’s a lot to take in at once.”

  “Naw.” I shake my head. “I’m not the one going through the big changes. I’m just stuck in limbo, waiting to see what the blowback is going to mean for me.”

  “Don’t sell yourself short. You have a big role to play. Being the P’s old lady is nothing to take lightly.”

  “I know, but it’s not like it is for Danny or Cora.” The thought of my best friend makes me wince.

  “Maybe so, but it doesn’t mean you don’t matter. And I know you love Cora, but the girl’s had a rough couple of years, don’t take things too personally. They were almost back on track from the Reaper debacle when shit went off the rails again.”

  “Dad what the hell has been going on around here lately? How did we end up here?”

  Dad laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “I’ve asked myself that same question many a time. It’s the nature of the beast. This life chews us all up and spits us out. But you were built Wesson strong, you can take it.”

  “You sure about that, Daddy? ‘Cause I have to be honest and tell you right now, I don’t know which way is up and I’m worried about Danny. He never wanted it.”

  “No, but he’s Rule’s son and he’ll rise to the occasion until his brother gets his shit together. P always put too much pressure on that boy. Made him jump through hoops to get a meager amount of acceptance.” Dad sighs. “I’m not surprised he lost it. It’s good to get some clarity at times like this.”

  “How can you say that after what he just did?” My face grows hot. Is the Wesson comes first code so engrained, he can’t see a dick move for what it is?

  “When you’re that broken and you don’t get your head right, you’ll ruin a lot more. This hurts, but nothing is so broken it can’t be fixed. You understand what I’m saying?” He arches a salt and pepper eyebrow.

  “No, I don’t.”

  He sighs. “You think Cora is bad now. What do you think would happen if he took all his shit out on her or R? You think she’d be more willing to forgive that or his disappearing act? Those two always come back together like fucking magnets.” He shakes his head. “Right now, my concern is you and Danny. He starts to crack…you let me know, so I can get him on track. Wesson can’t afford any more hits. You’ve always been the glue for him. I need you to stay strong right now.”

  “Dad.” I run my hands through my hair and close my eyes. There’s no choice. Danny and I are in this forever. “I hear you, Daddy.”

  “Good, ‘cause I’m not the only one watching him right now and there’s others here who’d love to be wearing the P patch. People who would blur the lines of what Wesson is about…I’m not going to sit back and watch that happen.”

  My mind flashes to Scar. A nasty piece of work who I know is kept around to do the heavy lifting. His edge is great to have in a Sergeant in Arms. But disastrous as the P. We’d never have peace. I glance at my father and nod. I understand.

  “Good girl.” He pats my back. “Now, how about you let your old man get you a drink? You look like you need one, darling.”

  “Is that a nice way of saying I look like shit?” I deadpan.

  He snickers, but doesn’t answer.

  Always knew my daddy was a smart man.

  He calls over the latest biker bunny, Candy and orders two Scotches’…dry.

  I’m sipping on mine when Danny reappears. He has his game face on now. His jaw is tensed and he stands his full six feet four inches. This is a man ready to run Wesson.

  I toss back the rest of the scotch, slam the glass on the worn wooden counter and stand up.

  “Brain,” Danny greets my dad.

  “Samson.”

  “You done here, Ro?” Danny asks.

  I am now. I recognize the hunger in his eyes. He needs to burn off some of the energy coursing through his veins and I know just the way to do it.

  His muscles flex and relax. The veins in his throat stand out and his jaw turns to granite.

  “Yes.” I glance at Brain. “See you later, Daddy.”

  Danny wraps his arms around me and places a possessive hand on my hip.

  His body heats burns through my t-shirt. My nipples pucker, my breasts go heavy and my pussy grows wet. I need this. I want to get lost in him, this man who owns me heart and soul. The room around us blurs as we walk across the room and down the hallway to his room. The blood rushes in my ears and butterflies flap their wings rapidly in my belly.

  We reach the room and he lifts me, slamming my back against the door once its shut.

  Our mouths connect and I moan. He eats at my mouth, nipping and sucking. His hands squeeze my ass hard and I rub my center against the burgeoning swell in his pants.

  He groans and I take advantage of the opening, thrusting my tongue into his mouth. I leave no part of him unexplored as I re-anchor him to me. I won’t let these changes steal him from me. We’ve fought too damn hard to get where we are now.

  He pulls away and yanks my top up. “Your breasts are so fucking perfect.”

  His hot breath on my cleavage makes me whimper. He bends and sucks one into his mouth, angling me against the door as he fumbles with the top button of my shorts. There are many bonuses to having a massive Adonis for my man. I wiggle my hips and together, we ease the material down my legs. It pools at my ankles. He rips away my silk underwear and I gasp at his roughness, along with the cool air hitting my exposed flesh.

  He reaches between us and trails a finger down my slit. “Oh yeah, you’re wet for me, aren’t you?” He rubs the moisture over my swollen clit.

  I cry out while bucking my hips.

  “Don’t you worry. I’m going to give it to you.” He opens his jeans.

  Whimpering, I lick my lips when his ten-inch cock springs forward. I want to take him in hand, but I can tell right now…he needs to be in control.

  He grips his base and rubs his dick between my nether lips, bumping my clit every time. I sink my nails into his shoulders and he growls, “That’s right, mark me, Irish.”

  “Stop teasing,” I growl.

  He smirks. “You want it, baby? Tell me.”

  “I want you to fuck me, Samson,” I roll the road name out over my tongue.

  His eyes darken and he pushes inside me in one thrust.

  “Oh, God.” I grip his shoulders hard.

  “Samson, eh? I’ll show you just how strong I can be.” He pounds into my pussy hard.

  I wrap my legs around his waist hooking my ankles, wanting him deeper. The head of him is brushing the bundle of nerves that have me climbing higher and higher. My thighs shake and my walls contract.

  “Not yet, baby, wait for me. You wait for me,” he growls. “Give me those blue eyes.”

  I struggle against the wave of pleasure th
reatening to crash down and pry open my eyes. He captivates me. Like a woman under the spell of a hypnotist I can do nothing but obey.

  “So pretty when you’re about to come on my dick, Ro.”

  I take a shaky breath and flex my muscles, holding back the orgasm waiting to break.

  “Such a good girl, waiting for me.” His voice is husky.

  I know he’s close.

  He pumps faster as beads of sweat roll down my face. “You ready, baby, come with me,” he orders.

  I let go, squeezing his dick for all I’m worth.

  He slams home one last time and pins me against the door. His heated liquid fills me and he buries his face against my neck. “Fucking forever, Ro.”

  The familiar mantra makes me smile. “Forever, baby.” My lungs are burning, my pussy is aching and my mind is empty of everything except my love for this man.

  He peels his body from mine and captures my mouth. The urgency is gone, burned off by the wild fuck, but the intensity remains.

  I melt all over again. My toes curl in my low boots. My heart is racing, my head is spinning and the man I love is deep inside me. It’s not everything I want, but it’s enough. I hold onto the moment, mourning him as he slips out.

  “I don’t think anything makes me happier than knowing I’m still lingering inside you.”

  “Such a naughty man,” I tease.

  “And you fucking love it,” he growls, kissing me hard.

  “Mmm-hmm,” I agree lazily.

  “Come on. Let’s clean up, so I can get you dirty again. I hope you didn’t plan on getting any sleep tonight.” His voice is a low rumble.

  I’m already wet again.

  “You got that look in your eyes that tells me you want it hard and rough. Are you ready for to be fucked all night long?” Danny asks.

  “I don’t know.” I glance at him coyly. “This first time was so tame.”

  His eyes widen. He throws back his head and laughs. “I guess I’ll have to do better then.” He takes my lips and slips two fingers inside me, swirling our combined juices. His hands are large and his fingers are thick and long. He crooks them, hitting my g-spot instantly.

  I’m rocking my hips and reaching for the sky. He adjusts his angles and I’m gone. I fly over the edge while screaming his name and I know neither of us will be sleeping tonight.

  Danny

  I should be sleep, but not even a night of pounding my old lady’s pussy can quiet my brain. I open my eyes and look at the clock. It’s barley seven in the morning. I glance over at Rowan and smile. She’s breathing deeply and utterly relaxed. At least one of us has found peace. I can’t see my cut, but I know it’s in the corner draped over a chair. The newly sewn President patch mocks me in the darkness. It’s a cruel twist of fate that my father’s heir apparent has gone Nomad after Dad’s death and I’m left wearing the crown I never wanted in the first place. Rule…Dad. The realization that I’ll never see the man who’s always been larger than life slams into my chest and I’m drowning in the memory I want to forget most, the day he died—but know I’ll never be able to.

  Past

  After all this time, we were finally going to get revenge on Rolling Bones for what they’ve done to our family. I’m amped, flying high like an addict who just took a hit of the purest cocaine. It’s been eating all of us alive waiting for the P to give his consent to payback. We put too many of our brothers in the ground and now we watch Rufus wither away in the hospital in a coma. He’d come to recently, but he has a long way to go until he’s one hundred percent. I push the thoughts away and focus on my father who’s standing in the front of room for church.

  “This has been a long time coming brothers. Today, we avenge brothers who’ve taken that last ride at the hand of the Rolling Bones. They thought they could come in here, disrespect us and take our shit. I know you wanted to go at them with all guns blazing. But we weren’t ready yet. And I wanted to let those fuckers sweat it out. They’ve been watching their backs, growing paranoid and on edge, waiting for the blowback. Now, they’re tired and sloppy and we’re going to slaughter them.”

  “Pres!” I join the bloodthirsty cries. We deal with things differently in my world. The phrase an eye for an eye is literal. They took down our Vice President and three of our prospects. It’s only right, we return the favor. I glance over at Prophet who got patched in during his stay in the ICU with Rufus. He has a wicked scar underneath his shaggy hair where the bullet grazed him. But what marks him even more is the crazy in his eyes. He’s grown hard over the past few months, physically and mentally. His once gangly frame has been bulked with fifteen pounds at least, and I know he’s going to be on the front lines tonight.

  Dallas is standing beside my father, looking as if he always belonged. His green eyes are bright with excitement and I can barely remember a time when he wasn’t operating as Vice President. When Rufus went down, he was the obvious fill in. The title looks good on him, lessening the friction existing between him and Dad. On equal footing, the talking down has all but ended, or maybe it was more that Dallas stopped caring. Once Cora came up pregnant, he changed. The fight for father’s attention and approval shifted. He lived and breathed for Cora and R. It’s a beautiful thing to see, not that I’d say that shit out loud. It gave me hope for me and Irish. We’ve gone back and forth about having a kid and raising him in this life, unsure if it’d be fair to place so much on their shoulders.

  “Don your masks. And line up outside.”

  We all pull up our skull handkerchiefs, tying them tight. We are the walking dead tonight, doing what our fallen brothers cannot. A heavy silence falls as we leave the clubhouse and mount our bikes. Dad reeves his engine in memory and we all do the same. He pulls off and we fall into line behind him.

  A weighty emotion hangs in the air that I can’t put my fingers on. There’s nothing pretty about what’s going to happen, but it is necessary. We ride out of the city, to a warehouse we own, load up into the black vans with tinted windows and false plates, then ride toward the Rolling Bones territory. Our people have been out tonight and we know the Bones are partying at the clubhouse. By now, they’re probably good and wasted.

  I feel a pang of guilt for the innocent bitches who’re about to get caught in the crossfire, and then I think about Cora. They were out to kill Baby Girl. My anger surges and I crouch down by the window, gripping the shotgun tight. Handguns are more practical, but the point of this run is to do damage. We park a few minutes away and I know they’re sending out the text to our bait bitch. Her job is to lead him outside and hightail it before the shit goes down. It’s a dangerous job, but a club whore will do anything to gain clout.

  The van pulls away from the curb and I peer out the window, ready to go. Its midnight on a Wednesday and the roads are bare. We round the corner and the Rolling Bones club comes into view. Blood rushes in my ears. I slide open the window and stick the barrel out.

  They made the mistake of thinking they’re untouchable. It’s an assumption they’ll pay for in blood. I can see one of the bait bitches at the gate, distracting the guard. A loud crack sounds and he falls. Must’ve been Sniper.

  She totters to the gate on tall ass heels and pulls it open.

  The rest passes in a blur as we unload on the group standing outside. The smell of gunpowder singes my nose, while sweat runs down my forehead and back. The heat in the small space is stifling. Metal pings as they return fire. Our tires spin on the pavement as we do donut and ride for the gate. A bullet shatters the window above my head, raining down glass and I hit the floor. My shoulder slams up against the side of the van. I grunt as the ass end of the van sways.

  My phone starts to buzz in my pocket and I dig it out. “Yeah?”

  “Fuck, Danny, shit is bad. There’s blood all over and I can’t get him to stop bleeding.” My brother’s panicked voice hits me like an Antarctic blast. Dallas is never scared.

  “Who?” I ask.

  “Dad. They hit him in the stomach. Jesu
s shit. We need a hospital now.”

  I sit up, terrified. My father is larger than life. He can’t be taken down like this. “Who’s driving?” I ask, suddenly all business.

  “Wizard, I asked him to pull over and administer, but he said we didn’t have the time. I’m applying pressure, but there’s blood everywhere.” His voice shakes.

  I close my eyes. Wizard used to be a medic in the Army, so he knows his shit—this sounds bad.

  I hear the coughing wheezing and my stomach plummets.

  “Dad, no you can’t leave. Hang in there.” Dallas sounds desperate and my father sounds like he’s on death’s door.

  I hear him cough and the death rattle begins to play. I’m going to listen to my father die as my brother comes unhinged. All the things left unsaid between us, plays in my head like a film. Guilt sits on my chest like a boulder. There’s nothing I can do. No words of comfort I can offer when my soul is being ripped in two. An unnatural quiet falls and I hear Dallas release a broken sob. I clutch the phone like a lifeline. “Is he?” I whisper.

  “Dad’s gone, he’s just fucking gone.”

  An anguished wail from my brother echoes in my ear. What would happen to my family now?

  The answer is something I never would’ve imagined. Dallas shuts down. The light went out behind his eyes and he retreated inside himself. If you weren’t Cora or R, he didn’t want to see you, and he refused to talk about planning revenge or accepting the role of President. Everyone assumed he just needed time, so we gave him space.

  We hold my father’s funeral a week later, dress him in his cut and give him a spot in the Wesson plot.

  Standing beside Rowan, I’m numb. There’s a church meeting afterward, but all I can focus on is the mahogany box that holds the shell of my father. I know he’s not really in there, but it guts me to see him lowered six feet deep. Rowan squeezes my hand and I cling to her. Right now, she’s my anchor, keeping me from drifting away in the vicious storm that has descended and will forever change the face of Wesson.