by Debra Kayn
He fisted the base of his dick. “I want inside of you.”
She lowered her gaze to his cock. He'd been giving her oral sex, and she hadn't had the chance to return the pleasure. "But, Jett..."
“Will that make you happy?” he said.
She nodded, placing her hands on his thighs.
“Then, give me your mouth, Syd."
She parted her lips. As his heat touched her tongue, she sealed around him with her mouth and sucked him greedily. She stroked the underside of his length with her tongue. No wonder he enjoyed pleasing her with his mouth. She bobbed her head, taking more of him. There was something about having control over someone else's pleasure that excited her. That her tongue could do more than kiss.
“Damn.” He threw back his head and thrust his hips in short bursts.
She sucked, licked and caressed him until he rose on the toes of his boots and arched his back. He groaned and shuddered against her. His come hit the back of her palate, and she splurged on the salty taste.
He blew out a breath and reached down and hooked her upper arm, pulling her to her feet. She moaned over the loss of him. He’d come so far and had discovered ways of doing things she thought weren't possible. Each time more special and memorable than the last that gave him his confidence back.
“Lay down.” He turned her toward the bed. "We're not done."
"I'm so late." She looked into his eyes and saw the truth staring back at her. "It doesn't matter, does it?"
"Kylie will be fine on her own for a little longer." He squeezed her aching breast. She stretched out, knowing he wouldn’t stop and leave her unfulfilled. He was a considerate lover, going beyond his ability to make sure she was satisfied.
Her self-esteem rebounded after understanding what drove Jett. A passionate man, he expected perfection in himself. Taking time to heal hit him hard but she should've known and trusted him, that he would figure out what needed to be done to live the life he was born for.
He was a biker.
Strong. Loyal. Dedicated.
A born leader.
She'd succeeded in her own right. Hoping to make him proud of her, she'd continued to stay with him and prove her love for him. And, for the first time in her life, she received loved back. It was the best feeling in the world to be loved.
He rolled and tugged her nipple. Her head lolled against the bed, pleasure rushing through her body.
“Oh, God,” she begged for more.
He settled himself on his knees on the floor. She scooted her ass to the edge of the bed. Aware that any inhibitions she had were gone.
His tongue swept her slit, licking the wetness from her. She spread her knees more, making room for his shoulders. Two fingers entered her pussy, shocking her body in the most delightful and excruciating way. When he scissored his fingers, hitting her sweet spot, she thrust her pelvis off the mattress. He refused to give her a chance to deny what he knew they both wanted. What she needed.
He braced his elbow on the bed, keeping his injured hand up and out of the way, while stroking, rubbing at her sensitive clit until she writhed, eager for what he could do for her.
She bit down on her lip, straining for the release that hovered just out of reach.
He rose to his feet. She grabbed for him. “No, don’t stop.”
“Never.” He reached over and handed her the box of condoms. "Help me out."
His recovery surprised her. His gaze met hers. She stroked his whiskered jaw.
His eyes glazed over. High-strung as she was in her arousal, she managed to put the condom on him before she raised her gaze to him again. She kept watching his eyes. They were wild and heated.
When he thrust into her, she recognized what she'd always known from the first night that she met Jett.
He belonged to her.
"Take it, Syd," he whispered.
He plunged, withdrew, plunged, withdrew.
Balanced on one arm, he stroked the inner spot that drove her wild with his cock. She clutched his shoulders, arching against him. She quivered and tensed.
Her climax came hard and fast, leaving her breathless and screaming his name. She shuddered as the pleasure rippled through her sex, milking him until he grunted and thrust harder into her.
He rode her hard and fast. She thrashed and moaned, loving the feel of him taking from her again. Giving to her again. Coming again, until she thought she was going to die of intense ecstasy.
With a violent eruption, he ground his hips against her. She pulled him down into her arms, holding him as they gathered their breaths.
“Push-ups,” he spoke against her ear.
"What?"
He raised his head, and his eyes lit with amusement. "Damn glad for all those push-ups I did in prison cause my arm about gave out."
She closed her eyes and smiled. “It was perfect.”
He rolled to his side, taking her with him. "Love you, Syd."
"Love you, too." Her heart full and trusting.
Chapter Forty Three
"In two days, we ride out, following the transport of the shipment of bikes." Chief stood by the window in the meeting room of the clubhouse. "Komoon's altercation with the landing point in Klamath has forced us to go around Northern California to stay out of Lagsturn's territory. The only way we can guarantee a successful delivery is if we follow it all the way to our destination."
It'd taken Jett six months of building up his strength, honing his skills, and hundreds of hours on his Harley to know he was more than ready to make the trip. He'd stopped taping his fingers together and instead wore a riding glove, hiding the damage to his hand when he rode and was around others.
A couple groans around the table filled the room over the news. Jett sat between Olin and Thorn. They'd already been briefed on the changes. The meeting was to fill in the other officers of Brikken.
"That means on our new schedule, plan on being gone a week. Have your fun tonight, and then rest up. We ride out early Sunday morning." Chief glanced out the window. "Meeting over."
The others left the room. Jett remained behind with Keeffe per his dad's request.
"Shut the door, son." Chief stepped over to the table, pulled out a chair, and planted his boot on the seat.
Jett closed the door and returned to the table and sat. Any change in the route of the shipment put an added risk on the club. He wanted to make sure he was a part of the transport.
Chief ran his hand down his beard. "This will be my last trip as president of Brikken Motorcycle Club."
Jett stared at his dad's hands. Strong hands — scarred, stained, and broad. Hands that'd gripped a motorcycle his whole life, killed men, worked hard, and yet held babies with the tenderness few people had witnessed. Hands that'd taken a firm grip on him, both in support and guiding him in the right direction. Hands that had been used to protect his family. Hands still capable of leading a motorcycle club the size of Brikken.
"Jesus Christ," mumbled Keefe leaning forward and planting his elbows on the table. "You've got more years in you, Chief."
Chief dipped his chin. "It's time. I'm sixty-one years old. Without any weapons on me, our enemies will take my age as a weakness to hurt Brikken. I've done what Rollo would've wanted and taught those values to my sons. Next month, we'll have the meeting to swear in Jett. He's ready. He's strong. His head and his heart are straight."
"All, what the hell." Keeffe cussed under his breath before breaking out in a chuckle. "I always swore I'd follow you to the end, give my position up to someone younger and more motivated when you slowed down. Donna's been wanting me to be around more for the grandkids, and I guess the end of the road is in sight."
"Take your time. Think it over." Chief straightened. "Talk to Jett. We'll take it to the table and vote as a club, the way it's always been."
From as far back as he could remember, Jett understood that Olin would be his vice president when the time came. He suspected his brother had no idea how life was about to change.
&n
bsp; Next month, Jett would also turn forty-two years old. While he'd prepared for the day he'd step up and control Brikken, it was with solemn acceptance as he listened to Chief admit that a new stage in all their lives was beginning.
"All right." Keeffe stood. "We focus on the ride, and hope like hell we can pull this off. I'm getting too damn old to spend any more time in prison."
The vice president left the room. Jett remained sitting, looking at his father. He knew Chief. The decision hadn't come easy for him.
"You'll need to find time to talk to Olin." Chief walked around the table.
Jett stood. "I will after the ride. I want him focused on the trip."
Chief walked with him to the doorway. Eye to eye with his dad, he asked, "No reason you can't change your mind. Take the club through another year."
"Nah, son." He stopped and chuckled. "Rollo mentioned one time that his greatest wish was to live long enough to see me succeed in his place. He never got that chance. I want to see you and your brothers take your place within the club, give your sisters a secure home. That will be my biggest..." Chief swallowed. "Well, it's what I want."
He slapped his dad on the back in understanding. The change was as much for Chief as it was for Jett.
They walked down the hallway in silence. Jett stopped at the door to the playroom and wasn't surprised to find Chief waiting, too. Any chance he got, his dad took Stassi and let her follow him around the Brikken property.
He opened the door. Three little kids played in the corner with the large number of toys at their disposal. Kylie, in the middle of the group, built some kind of block tower while talking softly to the children. He looked to the other side of the room and found Sydney holding D-Con's son.
Just a year old, the little boy gazed up at Sydney in awe while she talked. Jett couldn't tell what she was saying because she spoke too low, but he'd bet everything he owned that she told D-Con Junior a wild tale about a long ivy vine hanging from a cloud and the magic that could be found up in the sky.
For someone who grew up in foster care, never learning that family was forever, Sydney possessed so much love she couldn't help sharing that with the babies and children she cared for at the clubhouse.
"She's going to have my babies," he said.
Chief nudged him with his arm. "Sydney's pregnant?"
He shook his head without taking his gaze off Sydney. "Not yet, but she will be. Rollo's legacy will go on," he whispered.
Chief clamped his hand on Jett's shoulder, then stepped into the room, grabbing the attention of Stassi from the dollhouse she played with on the floor. Jett walked to Sydney.
"...and when the boy climbed back down the vine of ivy, he looked up at the clouds and knew the little girl living in the castle would be there when he returned." Sydney turned, spotted him near, and smiled. "Hey, you. I thought you had a meeting."
"We're done." He leaned in and kissed her upturned lips. "There's no daycare tonight for the party, so you're free to join the adults. Do you feel like hanging around a little longer at the club?"
She grinned and shifted little D-Con Junior to her other hip. "Absolutely, as long as you'll be here."
"You know it." He kissed her again and felt a tug on his hand.
He looked down into Stassi's big eyes. "What do you want?"
Stassi lifted her arm. He grunted. She wore a glove on her hand. Her other hand was bare. A couple of months ago, his little sister started wearing one of her snow gloves to be like him.
He squatted down. "The snow is all gone."
"It's not for snow. I'm never going to take it off." Stassi leaned into him and blinked at him. "Will you come to our house?"
"Not today."
Stassi stuck out her lower lip. "I'm going to tell Thorn to come over."
"You do that." He chuckled, knowing she'd probably get their brother to do anything she asked.
"Stassi, let's go," said Chief.
Jett motioned his head. "Better get going, squirt."
"I'm not afraid of Chief." Stassi rolled her eyes in an imitation of her older sister. "I'm going to stay here and—"
"Stassi Stanton, get your ass over here," said Chief in his booming voice.
His little sister stiffened with wide eyes before running across the room to Chief. Jett straightened.
"I give Stassi three more years, and she'll go head to head with Chief." Sydney swayed side to side with the baby.
"She'll try." He winked. "He'll teach her a lesson about what happens when you think you can grow up too fast."
Sydney hummed in amusement. "Sounds like you've learned that by experience."
"More than once." He watched his dad and baby sister leave the room and turned back to Sydney. "She never takes that glove off?"
"Nope."
He shook his head. "Maybe I should tell her that I only wear a glove when I'm working or riding."
"Johanna would probably appreciate it. The glove is filthy, and she refuses to take it off when she eats." Sydney looked down at Junior, asleep in her arms. "I should put him down. The parents think I spoil the babies when I hold them when they're sleeping."
She continued rocking the baby on her feet. Jett's chest warmed. His MC brothers had mentioned how invaluable Sydney was running the daycare at the clubhouse. She'd taken what started as a couple of nights a week job to fulltime, offering the mothers a place to bring the kids while they worked a job outside of Brikken.
Most of the time, it was her and Kylie in charge of the kids, but the mothers also took turns when extra help was needed.
Sydney still hadn't put Junior in the crib. Jett inhaled deeply, knowing the changes in their lives with Chief stepping down would impact both of them. He wanted to give Sydney everything she deserved and would need. They'd both need to have their priorities straight going forward.
"Remember my room upstairs." He rubbed his lips together.
She looked at him and clicked her tongue. "Of course, I remember."
"It's vacant." He looked around the room. "Any chance Kylie can watch the kids for fifteen minutes?"
"Fifteen?" She laughed softly. "That's all the longer you need me?"
"Long enough to get the job done." He leaned in and kissed her deeply. "Talk to your sister. I'll meet you upstairs."
He walked across the room. At the door, he looked back at her. She stood at the crib, putting Junior down. He chuckled and headed toward the stairs.
Regardless if Kylie needed her in the daycare, Sydney would manipulate, con, lie, run away to be with him.
And, he wouldn't stop her.
Epilogue
Five years later ~
Crusader and Al, new prospects, pushed the metal gate open, welcoming the Brikken riders home. Jett led the members onto the property. The families of the members stood outside the clubhouse, their cheers muted by the roar of the engines.
Jett backed into the first spot near the door and shut off his Harley. Three hundred and fifty riders made it home safe. Another hundred members remained behind to protect the clubhouse. Only twenty members resided in the state prison.
Brikken continued to grow through the changing of the officers. Thanks in part to re-routing the delivery of chopped bikes he'd implemented after putting on the president's patch. The rate of arrests cut by half, and so far, every shipment arrived safely. His biggest achievement was getting rid of Komoon Motorcycle Club. Obliterated. The few remaining ex-members scattered to parts unknown.
The bump in the number of Brikken members made it possible to take the shipment all the way to California without a middleman. He trusted fewer and fewer people and having control over their activities made the business more secure.
At forty-seven years old, he had time to take Brikken to the next level. The club would achieve the status to make their enemies fearful, and secure the future generation of members.
He scanned the crowd and found Sydney, holding Cara, his second born. Getting off his motorcycle, he stripped the glove off his l
eft hand and left his right one on. Over the years, he'd had to prove himself capable of defending himself and his men. His enemies soon learned that his damaged hand neither inhibited him or stopped him from fighting back.
His gaze roamed to Sydney's left to Jackie holding Gunner's hand. His son, at almost four years old, tilted his head and squinted at his approach. The stance almost comical. Gunnar had spent a lot of time over the summer following Chief around and had picked up on mimicking his grandfather.
He headed straight to Sydney and kissed her. High off the ride, he wanted to get his family home. But, there was a celebration to attend.
"Welcome back." Sydney caressed his cheek, taking another kiss. "I missed you."
He kissed the top of Cara's head on her momma's shoulder and rubbed Sydney's swollen belly. "Tired?"
Running after a four-year-old, an almost two-year-old, and being two months away from delivering his third child, should've worn Sydney out. She took to pregnancy like carrying his babies were her call in life, loving every moment.
He was going to be damn sure he was home for the third kid after missing out on the arrival of Gunnar. Sydney had their son a week early, and he'd been six hours out of Tacoma when he'd received the call. He'd rode straight to the hospital only to find Sydney holding their son after having a quick delivery.
"Nope. I feel great." She motioned her head to the side. "Jackie spent the day with me, taking care of the kids, and I had a three-hour nap. You totally owe your sister fifty bucks. She earned it."
"That so?" He looked at Jackie. "How much have you saved for your car?"
"A little over one thousand." Jackie raised her chin. "I should have enough saved when I get my license in a year."
"Remind me to give you a hundred." He winked at his sister. "Thanks for taking care of my family."
Sydney's eyes suddenly widened, and she placed her hand on his chest, pushing him away. "Hurry, move back," she said with a laugh.
He barely rocked back on his boot, and D-con poured a beer over his head and threw his arm across Jett's shoulders.