Looking down at her magnetic gaze, I caress her cheek, letting my hand get lost in the loose strands of her long, red hair. It seems like minutes we stare at each other, giving slow, loving kisses in silence. But inside, my heart is shouting what it feels for her—love.
“Nix…”
“Yes, baby?”
“I’ve fallen in love with you.”
There’s no control over the smile that forms the shape of my mouth. Putting my fingers under her chin, I raise it, kiss her soft lips, and gaze back at the hope and fear in her eyes.
“If perfect moments exist, this is one of them because I’m in love with you too.” Beneath my thumb, I caress her velvet lips, lips that bring me soothing pleasure. “I honestly don’t deserve a woman like you, not with the mistakes I’ve made, but here you are, better than any woman I could’ve imagined, better than I deserve.”
The soft touch of her hand caresses my face, following the muscles of my body down to my chest, where she rests her hand over my heart.
“You deserve me and so much more. You’re a good man, a better man than any I’ve known. You love and protect with your whole heart, and I’m grateful your heart wants me.”
Placing my hand over hers, it hurts me to see the adoration in her eyes. She believes I’m a good man, and I feel guilty for her mistaken belief.
“I’m not a good man. My decisions have led to the assault and death of people I care about.” Turning on my back, I avoid looking at her beautiful eyes and the emotion I see in them. Straddling my waist, she places her hand on my jaw and forces me to look at her.
“Good men feel guilt and pain for those they care about. Evil men don’t care.”
There’s truth to what she’s saying even if it’s a struggle to accept it.
Laying her chest on mine, she brings her lips within kissable reach.
“You need to forgive yourself. Angela’s choice to join the Wild Royals was hers and hers alone. Their choice to hurt her was wrong, and what they did was out of your control.”
“They hurt her because she wanted to get out. I offered her that out, and now she’s dead.”
“If you hadn’t offered her an out, she would’ve taken another opportunity to get out. I know. I’ve been in her shoes. I was lucky you came for me when you did. If you hadn’t, I would’ve been killed. You couldn’t save her, but you saved me.”
The need to touch her is uncontrollable. I wrap my arms around her, kissing her until we’re desperate for air.
“I’d do anything to protect you. Anything to keep you safe. There are no lengths I won’t go to. No man I won’t kill if I have to.” Lifting my head to hers, I hold her face in my hands. “I need you, Synne. More than I’ve ever needed any woman.”
When her lips lower to mine, I turn us over, putting her on her back. Kicking my jeans and briefs off, I lie above her, holding one hand around her neck and the other around her hip as I bring us together, my cock sliding into her warm pussy, the world around me forgotten as I slowly take her.
* * *
On the floor, my cell is buzzing in my jeans pocket. Synne slides off me as I roll off the bed and grab it.
Jake’s voice comes through the receiver. “Tank is out tonight. What do you want to do?”
“Let it go. We have enough beef with other MCs as it is.”
“I agree. You gonna be around the club or shop tomorrow?”
“Nah. I want time alone with Synne. William can take care of current orders until Synne and I get back.”
“Got it. Give me a call if you need me, brother.”
“Thanks. Take care of Liz and Liam.”
“Always.”
Tapping the end call button, I set the phone on the wooden nightstand next to her bed.
“What was that about?”
“The drunk MC that was asking y’all to show your tits on stage is getting out of jail. We were going to pay them a visit to finish what we started.”
“I’m glad you’re not. It’s not worth it, and I’d rather you stay here with me.”
Caressing my hand along the shape of her body, I massage into her hip, pulling her closer to me. Lying on my side, I rest my head on my hand and bent elbow, watching her eyes light up from my touch.
“I’m not going anywhere, babe. Except to get us food. You hungry?”
“I’ll cook. I have food in the fridge.”
“I’m looking forward to trying out your cooking.”
Her breasts fall together, drawing my eyes as she leans forward and kisses me.
“I’m a pretty good cook.”
Sliding off the bed, she grabs my T-shirt and slips into it, the bottom barely covering her pussy. When she turns around, my cock jumps as I stare at her ass cheeks peeking out below the fabric.
“I’ll make chicken Alfredo. That sound good?”
Tossing my legs over the side of the bed, I chase after her. She squeals as my arms wrap around her and lift her. Dragging her back to the bed, I toss her on it, face down. Over her shoulder, she locks eyes with me as I lift her ass in the air.
“I’ll eat whatever you cook after I fuck this ass.”
My fingers slide between her wet pussy lips, and she moans, rocking forward and back over them as she pulls my shirt over her head. Using the slickness of her desire, I massage her tight hole, slipping a finger in, stretching her to take me fully. As I add a second digit, I slip my hard cock into her pussy, easing in and out, fucking her ass with my fingers as I watch her take pleasure from my cock. When her moans are at their highest, I pull out of her pussy and press my cockhead to her ass. Slowly, carefully, I ease in. Her fists clench the bedsheet, and I massage her ass and back, helping to relax her muscles. Sliding in and out, I thrust deeper each time until she’s relaxed, and her breathing is heightened. When she’s ready, I grip the side of her hips and quicken my pace, fucking her harder. The sound of her ass cheeks hitting my pelvis are drowned out by the blood pumping through my body, my euphoria blurring everything around me, the sensation of my swelling cock taking me to the highest peak. My grip tightens, my groan deep and guttural as I cum hard, holding her ass tight to me as I release inside her.
Opening my eyes, I gently pull out, grip her shoulder, and bring her upright against my chest. Putting my arms around her, I suck at her neck, biting and kissing as I massage a breast in one hand, her clit with the other. In my arms, her body quivers, a sigh of relief escaping as her orgasm coats my fingers.
Moving my hand from her breast to her jaw, I turn her face toward me, my lips taking hers.
“Synne…” Her name rolls off my tongue like a whispered caress against her lips. “It’s the perfect name for a woman as sinfully beautiful as you are.”
There’s a glimmer in her eyes as they blink up at me. Between us, the passion is palpable, drifting in the air, pooling around us like warm water. Holding her close, I linger in this moment, afraid of losing the sensation filling my heart.
“The way you make me feel... I didn’t know it could be this good.”
“Levi was a piece of shit. He should’ve made you feel like this every day. You deserve it.”
Turning to face me, she puts her hands around my neck, her warm breasts pressed against my chest.
“I want you to stay with me more than just tonight.”
Putting an arm around her back, I lower her to the bed, kissing her as I lie above her.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
* * *
In the kitchen, Synne shakes her ass to rock music as she flips pancakes. I’m sprawled out on her couch, watching her dance in only blue panties and another one of my shirts. I’ve been here for two days, and she’s washed my clothes, cooked every meal for me, and had the great idea of us going on a ride together. The last two days have been blissful, but I can’t keep it up. I have to get back to the shop soon. William already texted this morning, letting me know we’ve had several custom orders come in since bike week ended.
The problem is, I don’
t want Synne coming back to work with me. I don’t want her sitting in a place the Royals know, a place she’s easily accessible. I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place—I enjoy having her work with me, and I can keep an eye on her while she’s there, but at my shop, she’s a sitting target.
Leaving the couch, I rest my elbows on the edge of the counter across from where she’s cooking. She turns down her phone, so we can talk.
“Butter or syrup?” she asks, removing two plates from the cabinet behind her.
“Both.”
“Good, me too.”
Tension coils in my gut as her brows pinch inward. She’s studying my face, and clearly, unease is written all over it.
“We need to talk about work.”
“I assumed we’d be going back in today.”
“I am, but I want you to take some time off and stay clear of the shop for a while.”
The fluffy round pancake slides off her spatula onto an empty plate before she sets the spatula down, staring at me in confusion.
“This is about what happened to Angela. Are you worried the Royals will attack me at Custom Ride?”
Rubbing my index finger and thumb over my facial hair, I stare back at her intense gaze and the tight lines around her eyes.
“They’re capable of anything. I can’t risk something happening to you.”
“I have to come back sometime. What’s a week going to do?”
Sliding the spatula under another pancake, she drops it on top of the other.
“It’s not going to do anything. It might be a good idea for you to take the week and look for a job somewhere else.”
Her arms drop to her sides, the spatula dangling from her hand.
“Are you firing me?”
“Yes.”
Shoving the plate forward, she sets the spatula on the counter with a thud, her cheeks growing red.
“I love working there, especially with you. You shouldn’t fire me because you’re worried about something happening to me.”
Reaching over the counter, I grab her hand, holding it in mine. Rubbing my thumb over it, I attempt to soothe her rising temper.
“This is about more than a job. I enjoy working with you too, but I can’t risk anything happening to you. I’ll do anything to keep you safe even if that means giving up seeing you at work every day.”
Her other hand holds her weight as she leans against the counter. Looking off, her nostrils flare above her tight, flattened lips.
“I don’t want to work anywhere else. I don’t want to hide.”
Withdrawing my hand, I stand straight, my shoulders widening.
“Did you see what they did to Angela?” I snap, my tone sharper than intended. “They stabbed her and beat her to death, no doubt raped her too. I’m not going to let that happen to you. I don’t want to be an asshole about this, but you’re not coming back to the shop or the clubhouse until I say so.”
“You’re scared, I get it, but I—”
“I’m not fucking scared, Synne. I’m being smart about this. I’ve known the Royals a hell of a lot longer than you have. I’ve lost two women I loved because of them. I’m not losing a third. You can be pissed at me, but I’d rather you be angry than dead.”
Moving away from the counter, I grab my vest off the back of the couch and loop my arms into it. Dropping onto the couch, I grab my boots and shove my feet into them.
“Nix?”
“There isn’t anything else to say. Find another job.”
Her hand touches my shoulder, and I stop tying my boot as the soft grip of her hand turns into rubbing.
“I don’t like having to find another job, but I’ll stop fighting you on the subject. I can see how much it’s upsetting you.”
Putting an arm out, I pull her onto my lap, her legs straddling mine as she faces me, her hands rubbing the tension in my neck.
“I don’t think you realize how much you mean to me.”
“I’m not used to someone caring so much.”
My forehead leans against hers as I lift my T-shirt and rub her back.
“It’s not easy for me to tell you to get another job, I want you there with me, but this is what I warned you about. I can’t have happiness, not as long as the Royals are alive.”
Her next words are cut off by the ding in my pocket. Leaning back, I dig my cell phone out and read the group text message from William.
Clubhouse. Now. Royals are here.
“Shit!”
Pushing Synne off my lap, I grab my keys off the coffee table.
“What’s going on?”
“Stay here until you hear from me. I mean it, Synne, don’t leave this apartment.”
Before she can argue, I’m closing the door in her face and running down the apartment building hall to the stairs.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
NIX
What I walk into is a fucking hurricane of chaos. Tables are flipped, chairs broken, glass beer bottles shattered and scattered on the bar, tables, and floor. Jeff is nowhere to be seen, thankfully, but William isn’t as fortunate. Two Royals have him tied down to a chair, his right eye and top lip busted, blood dripping onto his gray cut-off sleeved T-shirt.
As I take in the scene, Jake and Max enter behind me, their expressions revealing the same emotions I’m feeling.
“What the fuck are you doing in our clubhouse, destroying property and disrespecting one of my members?”
Reed kicks a chair out of his way and sits on one of the upright tables, one boot still on the floor, the other leg bent as he carelessly rests his ugly ass on the surface.
“It’s all over the news, Pres. Our shop went up in flames and with it, ten kilos of cocaine.”
“Sounds like a personal problem,” I bite back, my arms crossed over my chest.
“Nah, you see, Rex took a hell of a beating, but the man still managed to get a message to us.” Reed puts his pinky in the air and wiggles it. “With his little finger, he dipped it in hospital puddin’ and wrote Kings.”
The rest of my crew billows into the clubhouse, forming a wall around me, their hands on their guns.
“Rex has a grudge. Just because the son of a bitch woke up from a beating and assumed it was us, doesn’t mean it was.”
Reed puts his hands in the air and smirks. “You got me there, Wilson. He does have a grudge, but I still believe him. He’s my second cousin, after all, and my men know better than to lie to me. It’s a lesson you could use.”
“The only lesson that’s gonna be learned today is the hard beating we’re gonna give you for damaging our clubhouse and throwing around bullshit accusations.”
Reed steps off the table and motions his finger toward the two assholes on either side of William. The taller man with black and gray peppered hair holds William’s shoulders as the shorter, beefier man with blond greasy hair slams a fist into William’s face. Blood spatters across the floor, and my rage forces my arms to my sides, my fingers grazing the metal of the Glock on my hip. Between heartbeats, I raise the gun and apply five pounds of pressure. The bullet clips the greasy blonde’s shoulder, tearing a hole through leather and flesh.
“Fucking Christ!” he screams, his arm dropping like deadweight. Next to me, Dom has his gun out and pointed toward Reed’s head. My aim switches, adding another barrel at Reed as several more guns are drawn around the room.
“Fun’s over. Get your crew and get the fuck out.”
Reed slowly moves off the table, motioning for his crew to exit. As they approach, we make room for them, our guns still raised and pointed at them as they keep theirs pointed at us. Reed stops at the end of my barrel, his gaze cutting past the gun to me.
“You got seven days to deliver fifty thousand, a down payment for the full seven hundred and fifty you cost me and my crew. If you don’t pay, you’ll be burying another pretty redhead.”
My teeth clench, my finger on the trigger. My breath is unmoving as the anger boils inside me.
“You touch her
, you die.”
Reed scoffs as he turns toward the exit. With them out the door, I lower my gun and breathe. Ink and Trevor rush toward William and untie him from the chair. Jake and Max approach, but I walk away from them, my anger still uncontrollable. With my gun in my hip holster, I rest my fists on the nearest standing table, my knuckles turning white. Reed’s words replay in my mind, tormenting me. Gripping the table, I roar as I flip the table through the air, and it crashes into other toppled tables and chairs several feet away.
“I can’t take this shit anymore!”
With my heartbeat pounding in my ears and sweat beading down my back, I stomp toward the bar, gather an intact bottle of whiskey, loosen the top, and swig. The men gather around the bar, passing the bottle around. When it gets to William, he wipes his bloody mouth and keeps the bottle, swallowing as much as he can in one gulp. The guy’s gonna need it for the pain.
“We don’t have fifty thousand to give them,” Wesley says aloud.
“They don’t need money, they need taken out,” Dom says to me.
My gaze sweeps between the crew, their expressions a visual representation of anger, fear, and the crash of adrenaline.
“We’re done suffering at the hands of the Royals,” I say to them. “We’re finishing this once and for all. I need to know who’s in.”
* * *
I didn’t think I’d be meeting Mr. Galloni again so soon, but life has a way of throwing unexpected obstacles at you on a regular basis. You have a choice. Don’t deal with the obstacle, but that’ll only cause you more problems later. You can try to get a handle on the situation, do the best you can, and hope for the best. Or you can make a plan and blow that obstacle to smithereens. I’m tired of trying to get a handle on things. The Royals have pushed me to this point—the point of no return. Once I commit, I’ll have to take the consequences as they come. My only regret will be losing Synne.
King of Kings Page 18