Viking (Black Shamrocks MC: First Generation Book 2)

by Kylie Hillman

  The room is tiny. My back hits the wall within three steps and I hold my arms up as if I’m trying to ward him off.

  Vic stops, and the hurt in his expression deepens into true pain. “Do you think I’m going to hit you?”

  “No,” I exclaim. Then, I stop and really think about it. “Well, maybe, yeah.”

  Vic jams his hands in his hair. “Well, that’s fucked up.”

  Crossing my arms over my chest, I shrug. “It is, but it’s also possible. I saw you arguing with the owner and I’ve never seen you like that before. You’re always in control, so yeah, it was scary, if I’m honest.”

  “I’ve never been in more control than I was then,” Vic replies. “I’ve been promoted and that was me in work mode, nothing more, nothing less.”

  “Okay,” I concede with a little giggle. “You do you.”

  Vic just stares at me. I move, ready to make my point clear. With two long strides, I close the distance between us. I run my hands along the waistband of his jeans and then under his shirt. Making my way up his six-pack, I cup lay my hands on his chest and step into his embrace.

  His arms close around me, and I slip mine around his side to cup his arse. “Can I do you, too?”

  Vic laughs, dipping his head to mine. Our lips meet, and he kisses me with patient tenderness. It lasts for no longer than ten seconds before he’s pulling away from me and the gentleness is over. I’m herded back toward the wall and my skirt is pushed up around my waist.

  With a sense of déjà vu, I decide that this move shall be forever known as “The Vic”.

  The gorgeous man before me reaches between my legs and tears my G-string from my body. While I mentally add the cost of another pair of panties to the every-growing bill, Vic settles his hip between my thighs. He lifts me in the air, balancing my weight with ease. I reach down and unbutton his jeans, freeing his cock to my touch.

  With my hands, I work him up and down, squeezing the head of his dick each time I reach the summit. Vic thrusts in my hands, then he pushes them aside and presses his cock to my entrance. Placing my hands on his shoulders, I feel the muscles bunch in my grip. He’s ready and he’s not going to be nice about it.

  I bite down on my bottom lip and brace for the initial entry. Vic doesn’t disappoint. He thrusts home with one pump of his hips, filling me completely before he pulls back and pushes into me again. With staccato bursts of movement, he denies me the opportunity to find a rhythm, instead keeping me guessing about the depth and force he’s going to use.

  Giving into his playfulness, I lean my head back and let him take me. Sex with Vic is never boring, he always keeps it fresh and exciting, yet he knows the old faithful moves that will send me over the edge. He angles his entry with perfection, doing so in a way that makes the head of his cock brush my G-spot. Once he’s worked me into a frenzy from the inside, he applies the exact amount of pressure I need to my clit. My walls spasm, gripping his dick tight over and over, until the pleasure that is centred on my clit becomes too much to stand and my thighs tremble in time with the waves of my orgasm.

  “Oh, Vic,” I moan. My fingernails dig into the leather that covers his shoulders. I cling to him with my legs and fight to keep my breath while he pumps into me with growing intensity. I feel his own climax peak and then spill over before he holds me tight and finishes with a roar.

  “Jeez, Bonnie,” Vic groans. “You’re gonna kill me one day.”

  Reality returns. I try to work out how long I’ve been gone. No longer than five minutes, I hope. If it’s been much longer, my dad is going to come looking for me, and that’s a scene I’d like to avoid at all costs.

  Slapping my hands down on Vic’s shoulders, I push at him. “Let me down. I’ve got to go.”

  He lifts his head and glares at me through narrowed eyes. In the coldest tone I’ve ever heard, he holds me in place and asks, “Afraid daddy will discover that you do know me?”

  “Seriously?” I exclaim. “Of course, I care. He’ll go crazy if he finds out I’m back here fucking you.”

  I slap his shoulders again and, this time, he lets me go. I barely have the time straighten my legs before my feet hit the ground. Vic stalks away from me, leaving me to find my own balance. He unlocks the door and pulls it open. Yanking my skirt into place, I scoop my knickers from the floor and walk past him with my head held high.

  “Typical,” Vic sneers at me. “You snobby bitches are all the same. Happy to fuck us bad boys, along as nobody finds out and your reputation as daddy’s little princess stays intact.”

  My temper snaps, burning flames of fury igniting my nasty tongue. I fling my ruined G-string in his face, then tear strips from him. “Get over yourself. We had a deal—you were my walk on the wild side and I was your chance to finally feel like someone who mattered. Just because you’ve pussied out and added feelings to the mix, doesn’t make me the bad guy. You’re supposed to be the big, bad, biker—why don’t you try acting like one for once?”

  Stomping my way down the hall, I try to ignore his cum when it runs down my thighs. I press them together to stem the flow, but it doesn’t work. Gritting my teeth, I look around for something to clean up with. Vic catches up with me. He pushes me into the wall next to the cart the waiters use to set the tables, grabs a cloth napkin, and cleans between my legs.

  With a look of disgust, he throws it in the bin. “There you go, princess. Not a trace of your shame left.”

  Trust Vic to add insult to injury. I’ve always known he was capable of being an A-Grade jerk. I just never expected to be on the receiving end of it.

  Shoving him out of my way, I bite back a sob and flee the restaurant.

  ELEVEN

  Victor

  Five weeks later

  “On a scale of one to ten,” I ask Cole. “How nervous are you?”

  “Four-hundred and fucking fifty,” he replies. Quinn chuckles and fusses with Cole’s tie some more.

  “There,” he declares. “You’re ready. Let’s get this show on the road.”

  “Thanks, dad.”

  Quinn inclines his massive head and wipes at his face. When he lifts his face to look at his son, his eyes are still suspiciously bright. “Any time. You’re doing a good thing, son. I’m proud of you—you’re carrying on my legacy with that patch on your back and giving me a daughter and a grandbaby, all at the same time. It doesn’t get much better than that.”

  Now it’s my time to duck my head. I feel like an interloper watching them share a moment that I’ll never have with my own father. Especially now that his exile from the Shamrocks is official. I haven’t seen my parents for over a month, and I’d be lying to myself if I didn’t admit that it’s been the best month of my life. No guilt trips, no pressure, no second-hand embarrassment. It’s been bliss.

  “Is that mutt gonna let me out?” Quinn ask, pointing at Angus. He takes a step toward the door. My dog growls, and Quinn shakes his head with mock annoyance. “I’ve got a girl to walk down the aisle, ain’t go the time to fight off an animal that so obviously suffering from little man syndrome.”

  We all laugh—well, me, Bri, Paddy, and our SAA do. Cole’s a bit tense seeing as how he’s about to get married. Angus takes it as a sign that he’s doing good and approaches Quinn with his teeth bared.

  I click my fingers and bend down with my arms out. Angus jumps into my hold and snuggles into my chest. Sitting on the edge of my bed, I scratch behind his ears and then his belly when he rolls onto his back.

  “That’s one strange dog,” Cole’s dad says. He pulls the door open and steps out into the hallway. Most everyone who’s coming to the wedding must already be here at the Clubhouse if the sound that assaults our ears is any indication. “You’ve probably got ten minutes tops. Don’t mess up your suits or set yourselves on fire in the meantime.”

  “Yes, sir,” me and Paddy salute him.

  Quinn snorts and shuts the door, blocking out the noise.

  Cole moves back in front of the small mirror in
my bathroom and starts messing with his tie again.

  “Dude, it’s fine,” Brian tells him. He drags Cole back to the bed. Angus growls when they get too close. Brian shakes his head and laughs. “Don’t know how you get any pussy when that dog thinks you’re his bitch.”

  I cover Angus’s ears with my hands. “Shhh, you’ll upset him.”

  Cole laughs for the first time today. “Man, he’s just a dog.”

  “No,” I defend my canine friend. “He’s a better wingman than all three of you put together. Angus lets me get my business done, then he takes care of any stage three clingers. What more could I want? I get all the pussy I want without any of the strings.”

  Cole rolls his eyes. “Speaking of pussy, what’s happening between you and Bonnie? Colleen’s been wanting to stab you for the past month, but I had to make her promise not to do it until after the wedding.”

  The mention of Bonnie makes my gut flip-flop. There’s a little bit of guilt residing in me from the way we left things at the Wild Daisy, however I’m not taking all the blame. That girl is hard as nails, and she knows just where to hit you when you’re down. It didn’t help that she caught me in a highly stressful moment—my first job for the Shamrocks wasn’t exactly going smoothly—and then she’d blanked me in front of her parents like I was her dirty, shameful secret. It all added up to the perfect storm, and I’d tried my hardest to humiliate her like she had me.

  I probably went one step too far, though.

  With a shrug, I try to play it down. “Nothing much. Me and Bonnie just needed to cool it.”

  “Ah,” Paddy crows. “She fell for you? That shit always happens. Fucking chicks, man.”

  He holds out his fist for me to bump. After a moment’s hesitation, I juggle Angus into one arm and hit my knuckles against his. Since his fight with Lenny—the same day as my chat with our Prez and VP—Paddy seems to have forgotten that he declared war against me. Seemingly overnight, he went back to acting normal, which left me reticent to trust him completely. I suppose it helped that he was hanging out with Alanah while I was being busy collecting the protection payments from the business on our turf.

  Brian and Cole are staring at me with funny expressions. I hold my hands palm up, and ask, “What?”

  “Nothing,” they reply in unison.

  “Are you twins now?”

  Cole scowls and heads back into the bathroom. Brian frowns. “Nah, not twins. Just worried about you.”

  “Like I said, there’s nothing to worry about. We came to a natural conclusion and that’s it.” I shrug. “Not like you can talk. Where’s Shari?”

  Now it’s his turn to shrug. “She’s dealing with some stuff. I tried to help, but she didn’t want a bar of it.”

  “Knock, knock,” Alanah calls out, rapping her knuckles on the wooden door. “It’s time.”

  “Come in,” I say. Angus growls so I hold him tighter.

  Alanah comes in. She looks beautiful in a blood-red dress that makes her blonde look lighter than usual and her tanned skin seem a shade darker. “Quinn’s got Colleen all organised so he told me to tell you all to get your arses in place.”

  Brian’s eyes bug out in his head. “What did you just say?”

  His little sister’s face turns a shade similar to the colour of her dress. “Those were his words, not mine.”

  “Yeah, we figured that,” I try to alleviate her discomfort.

  She smiles, stepping into the room with her hand held out. I realise, too late, that she means to pat Angus. With nimble feet, I attempt to minimise the chance of him biting her, but it’s not required in the end. My dog—the same dog who’s hated every other female he’s ever met—cocks his head to the side and lets Alanah scratch him behind the ears.

  “Oh, he’s lovely.” She giggles when he nuzzles her hand with his wet nose when she stops. “And, very bossy.”

  “He’s definitely an acquired taste,” Brian drawls. He glances between me, Angus, and Alanah with a puzzled look on his face. “Never seen him like someone on first go before. Took the little shit over a year to stop biting me every time I got too close to Vic for his liking.”

  My ability to speak was stolen from me the moment Angus let Alanah pat him, so I simply nod like a slack-jawed yokel.

  “Can I hold him?” Alanah opens her arms.

  I don’t need to reply because Angus basically resembles Superman in his urgency to get to her. Her leaps out of my arms and into Alanah’s before snuggling into her arms and licking her neck. Aside from Alanah’s laughter, the room falls quiet, almost unnaturally so, and it seems like we’re collectively holding our breath waiting for my dog to turn on her.

  He doesn’t.

  The little traitor lets out a snort and wiggles around until he’s comfortable. Alanah lets out a full-bellied laugh when he buries his head into her armpit, and she smiles with absolute delight when he seems to fall asleep in her embrace.

  “Well,” Paddy muses. “You see something strange every day.”

  He tries to take Angus from her but earns himself a sore finger instead when Angus snaps at him.

  “What the fuck? You little shit!”

  I step forward, bumping Paddy out of the way when he goes to hit my dog for biting him. Alanah also dances away from Paddy, determined to protect Angus, and we collide. With an easy grace, she barely regains her balance, then reaches out to hold me steady as well.

  Being this close to Alanah feels like coming home. A knot that I didn’t realise I had in my gut unfurls and memories of how she affected me the night I got my full patches attack me with stark clarity. Up close, she’s even more beautiful. Her scent tickles my nose, and I can see the light dusting of sparkly eyeshadow that someone’s painted on her eyelids. The dozen or so light freckles that cover her nose are a new discovery, and I’m left debating whether they’re more amber or light-tan in colour.

  “Just take your fucking dog so we can go,” Paddy snaps.

  Alanah’s eyes widen, the blue sparkling in the light. She sighs. Her warn breath moves across my face. Brian growls and I snap out of my trance.

  I don’t know what it is about Alanah that does this to me, but I need to learn how to keep my cool around her. Brian is becoming my right-hand man during the protection payments runs and I can see us being President and VP of an expansion chapter one day if I can keep him on my side.

  Lusting over his fifteen-year-old sister is a sure-fire way to get him on my wrong side.

  “Here, Angie,” I call my dog. He comes willingly, rewarding me with a lick in the same place he just got Alanah.

  Paddy pulls open the door and ushers Alanah outside before I can say another word. Brian hits me with his shoulder when he follows them out, and then it’s just me and Cole.

  “Dude, you’re dancing on the wrong side of danger.”

  His words are almost a perfect echo of my own thoughts.

  “I know.”

  “Then stop it,” he says.

  “Like it’s that easy?”

  “If you don’t want to end up on the business end of Bri’s pistol, it has to be.”

  With a nod, I concede his point. Clapping him on the shoulder, I point in the direction of the front bar where his wedding ceremony is ready to commence. “Enough about my problems. It’s time to get you married—hopefully before you become a dad.”

  TWELVE

  Bonnie

  I trail Shari down the aisle. The bouquet of flowers in my hands are heavy and they have a heady, cloying perfume that’s on the cusp of giving me a headache.

  Well, it’s either the flowers or the sight of Vic standing behind Cole at the end of the aisle that’s causing the pulsing, vice-like grip around my forehead.

  If I was capable of being honest with myself I’d admit that it was Vic, however the past month has proven that I do a hell of a lot better with denial than I do with truth. Repudiation is much more comforting than acknowledgement. Much easier to hide behind too.

  Clapping erupts fro
m the crowd and I know that Colleen has stepped through the door behind me. Quinn Blake is walking her down the aisle to his son and he’s as proud as punch to be doing so. Checking out Cole, I find that he’s on the verge of tears. It makes me smile. His father was exactly the same when he saw Colleen in her dress.

  My best friend is in good hands. The ceremony today is just formalising what everyone in this room already knows. Colleen is a Blake for life.

  “I’d like to welcome everyone to this day of celebration,” the priest begins to drone.

  Once Colleen has passed me her bouquet to hold, I tune him out and concentrate on the geometric pattern of the carpet beneath my feet. The floor covering is brand-new, another way that Ava Blake has put her touch on this wedding. If it had been left to Colleen, they would have exchanged vows in the registry office whilst wearing their everyday clothes. Instead, they’re sharing their special day with the Club that made it possible in the very place that they first met.

  Albeit under much less glamourous circumstances than these.

  “Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?” the priest asks.

  “I do,” Colleen replies.

  The men gathered erupt into raucous applause and chants of “Conan. Conan.”

  They shush quickly when Quinn scowls them, so the proceedings can recommence.

  I try to pay attention, however it’s impossible. Everywhere I look, I find reminders of things I want to avoid. There is no room for me in this life any longer. Colleen is fine. She barely needs me anymore, now that she has everyone in this room to take care of her.

  I study the back of her head while she exchanges rings with her new husband. Colleen is steady. I can’t find an iota of doubt in her demeanour. Running my gaze over Cole, I see that’s he’s the same—full to bursting point with the kind of pure happiness that I know will always elude someone like me. The jaded ones, the ones who were born without the ability to completely trust their life to fate, we’re doomed to live an existence filled with second guesses, almost theres, and that’ll dos.