by Franca Storm
It meant only one thing: they were preparing for a major throwdown. Oh God.
“You know me, Cole. I take our codes seriously.”
“Yet, here we are. With the great, honorable Mason Cross breaking a major one.”
“This was different.”
Cole scoffed.
“I was ready to let you deal out the punishment, beat me down, Cole. But we’re way beyond that now.” My breath caught in my throat as I watched Mason step right up to my brother. “After what you did.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Cole hissed back at him.
“Her!” he bellowed, gesturing angrily at Natasha now a ways behind and being blocked by several club members.
“You’ll get over it.”
Was he serious? That was my brother’s response? Could he possibly be any more disrespectful? To the man who’d stood by him and had his back more than anybody else, no less? To just basically dismiss Mason like that was despicable. What had happened to Cole? He’d clearly lost it, that much was obvious.
Mason shook his head, his voice taking on a dangerously low tone. “Nah. There’s no getting over it. Not this time. You and me? We’re done. And you continue to bring her up to the clubhouse and I’m done being around here too. I’ll only be up for Church from now on.”
“Look, Mason—” Cole started, worried now he realized how serious Mason was. He reached out to pull him back as Mason stepped back.
“No!” Mason yelled, shaking himself out of his grip. “It doesn’t bother me so much about the disrespect you’ve shown me. It’s the decision you made by going after Natasha. The choice you made by doing so.”
I watched realization flash in my brother’s eyes.
Oh my God. He’d known. He’d understood the consequences. A part of me had figured he hadn’t actually known, that he hadn’t put the pieces together. But that look just confirmed that he had.
“You don’t understand. There’s more to it,” he said.
Mason wasn’t willing to hear it. “You put your sister in danger. Right in Nik Stone’s line of fire. The second you made the decision to bring in Natasha, you made Luce a target. And you knew it. You chose Natasha’s wellbeing over Luce’s.”
“I—”
Cole didn’t get the chance to finish his sentence.
Mason’s hefty fist slammed into the side of his face like a frigging concrete block. I heard Cole hiss and then grunt in pain as his knees smashed against the asphalt when the sheer power of Mason’s hit drove him down instantly. Holy hell.
“Fuck,” he muttered.
Natasha screamed for Cole, then started hurling curses at Mason. A couple of club members held her back, preventing her from making matters worse.
Mason spat on the floor beside my brother and told him, “I’ll never forgive you.”
Cole finally graced me with his eye contact once again and eke out my name, “Lucy?”
“Stay away from me. You’ve suffocated me for long enough.”
Mason’s hand slipped into mine and he gently pulled me away with him.
“You okay?” I asked.
“Yeah, little darlin’. You?”
“We’re finally together. I’ll always be okay.”
He grinned down at me and then wrapped me up tightly as we walked away together out of the clubhouse lot.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“Into town. I need a drink. Plus, all that fucking worked up an appetite.”
“Preaching to the choir.”
We started making our way past the security gates when something occurred to me and I jerked my head up at Mason. “Hey, what about that list you mentioned? You know things like putting measures in place in case of reprisal from the Strikers MC?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “Prez and Cole went behind my back and kept me out of the loop, causing all this shit. They can deal with it. I’m out on this one. Fuck it.”
“Wow.”
He squeezed me to him. “Time to enjoy us now. We waited long enough to be together. I’m not going to waste another minute, Luce.”
“I love you so much.”
He brushed his lips over the side of my neck, my ear, the top of my head. Adoringly. “I love you. Always have, Little Lucy Taylor. Always will.”
Epilogue
~Mason~
Some things weren’t ever gonna change.
Little Lucy Taylor busting my fucking balls, for one.
Another? Me loving every moment of it. For the rest of my days.
“Mmm. You’re so hot when you flash me that pouty look, Pixie.”
We sat in a corner booth in Bertolli’s enjoying a steak dinner by clichéd candlelight. Well, tea lights, the waiter had called them when he’d asked if we’d wanted them lit for the duration of our meal. Of course I had. I’d wanted to give Luce the best experience possible, to rewrite the date-from-hell she’d had the last time she’d set foot inside here with that corporate asshole. It worked out well too, cuz I’d promised her a real date a while back. And, damn, I was finally going to deliver.
The last couple of months we’d been sidetracked by the major life-changing things that’d been happening. Following my threat to that asshole, Cole, I’d left my room at the clubhouse. I was still an active member, still had my duties. I just didn’t reside there anymore. Initially I’d intended to take a room at a motel, but Luce and I had come to a better decision. We’d moved in together and we now rented a home on the edge of town. Around the same time, Luce had finally taken the leap and set up shop in the empty boutique in the town centre, starting up her jewelry business.
I eyed both of our plates. We were almost done and I was planning on ordering a romantic shared dessert. But Luce clearly had other ideas.
“Look under the table,” she said, flashing me a sexy wink.
Both her hands were wrapped around her cutlery, so I had a pretty good idea of what I’d find if I did sneak a glance down there. Her legs wide open and inviting. Over the last couple of months, we’d both learned that Luce was a little exhibitionist. It got her off big time to play in public. Apparently, that night of the storm up against the tree had awakened it in her. I had to draw so many lines to make sure she didn’t go too far. When she got into it, she could lose her inhibitions wholly. She was a real ball of fire.
But tonight, that wasn’t the plan.
“Uh uh,” I told her. “Finish your meal.”
“Mason,” she whined.
“Luce, I got all dressed up for our special date.” I gestured at what I was wearing. “Once in a blue moon, little darlin’.”
Her gaze swept over me hungrily. God, I loved when she got that delicious look in her eyes.
I watched her as she looked me up and down, enjoying every moment.
Sure, I was wearing my cut. But I had on a pressed white dress shirt open at the collar. Luce knew what a big deal that was. Me and the boys only usually pulled that shit out for weddings or funerals. It showed just how much she meant to me. How much this first date meant to us, as a couple. I wanted to start things off right. Sure, we’d been together for two and a half months now, but this was a rite of passage in our relationship.
I’d even polished my boots and pulled on my newest pair of jeans without a single hole in them.
And Luce? Jesus Christ, she was a vision. She had on a purple lace dress that matched the color of her wavy hair. The only thing was, I wasn’t exactly comfortable with her wearing it in public. Behind closed doors, hell, I was all for it. I worshipped the thing like a ravenous animal. Before I ripped it from her body anyway. In a fancy-ass restaurant, it had me on edge, though. The plunging neckline that did everything it possibly could to emphasize her amazing tits. The hemline that only just covered her sexy little ass. But it wasn’t my place to tell her what to wear, or to attempt to control her in any way whatsoever. Besides, I knew what was going on. I’d known her long enough to be able to figure it out. It was all part of her exploring her sexual
ity. And due to her innate free spirit, that was amplified. The whole dress thing was just a phase. In the meantime, at least nobody dared to lay eyes on her. They all knew better. Word had spread and everyone in Warlow was well aware that Lucy Taylor was my woman. So, yeah, everything was fine. Fine.
“Mason,” she pressed, in a sing-song voice. “Under the table?”
I shook my head. “Uh uh. We agreed, remember? When we get home.”
“You teased me in the truck.”
“That wasn’t a tease. I just held your thigh in an affectionate way for a brief moment. It was a couple-like move, not down ‘n’ dirty.”
“Any touch on the thigh is down ‘n’ dirty when I’m not wearing panties.”
I froze for a second and my breath hitched. I had to clear my throat and even then my words came out on a rough choke. “What? No panties? What the fuck, woman?”
She shrugged. “I thought you’d like it and I thought I’d feel sexy. I was wrong about the sexy thing. I’m just really uncomfortable. Chafing on everything and I feel like everyone knows.”
Trying to keep a straight face and to ignore my hard-on straining against my jeans, I leaned forward and clasped her hands in the middle of the table. Lowering my voice, I told her, “It’s probably the material of the dress. As for everyone knowing, trust me, if I didn’t notice, nobody else did.” I gave her hands a squeeze. “Is that why you were pushing the under-the-table thing? To distract yourself?”
“You know me too well,” she answered with a sheepish smile.
I laughed.
Catching the eye of a waiter walking by, I called out, “Check, please, man.”
As he nodded and walked off to take care of it, Luce frowned at me. “I thought you wanted to do dessert?”
“I can’t let my woman sit here feeling so uncomfortable, can I?” I slid my fingers into her hair and pulled her close so I could whisper into her ear. “Besides, knowing you’re not wearing anything under that dress has me fixated on throwing you down on this table and sinking into that delicious pussy.”
She trembled against me. “Aww. Such a romantic, aren’t you?”
Laughing, I pulled back as the waiter strolled up to our table with the check in hand. I paid and gave the guy a tip, thanking him for the great meal. Then Luce and I hurried out to the parking lot.
As I held Luce’s door open and kissed the top of her head before she climbed into the passenger seat of my truck, it hit me. Everything. The last few months. Our lives. How lucky we were to have what we had.
We’d finally managed to get our shit together.
And now, life was pretty damn amazing.
Other Books by Franca Storm
Contemporary Romance
Comfort Zone
Coming of Age/Contemporary Romance
BAD IMPRESSIONS
New Adult Romance
READY TO LOVE
Motorcycle Romance
RECKLESS (Black Thorns, #1)
SOULLESS (Black Thorns, #2)
BLAMELESS (Black Thorns, #3)
Paranormal Romance
WRECKED
Romance Thrillers
All Or Nothing (Bleeding Love, Part One)
Battle Born (Bleeding Love, Part Two)
Love’s Lies (Bleeding Love, Part Three)
Dark Hearts (Bleeding Love, Part Four)
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About the Author
Franca was born in Surrey, England and currently lives in Ontario, Canada with her husband and their labrador, Rocky.
She writes stories about bad boys with big hearts—those bad boy, alpha males the tough women they fall for just can’t seem to resist.
She is a long-time erotic/romance novel addict and decided to try her hand at crafting her own. Writing romantic erotica is now her obsession and the perfect way to put her dirty mind to good use! She’s got a ton of stories to tell and many more works up her sleeve.
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