MINE: Fury Riders MC

by Sophia Gray

  Patrick nodded. “Yeah, a couple of assholes. We don’t need ’em. The rest are true, boss.”

  I felt a little better to hear most of my guys were loyal until the very end, but I couldn’t lie and say it didn’t bother me to know even a couple of them left. Like they didn’t care who was leading them so long as they didn’t have to worry about it themselves.

  It made me furious, but I shoved the anger down. For now.

  Patrick continued his report. “When he didn’t get as many of us as he hoped, he got pissed. You know what kind of temper that asshole’s got. He lost his shit. He declared war on us. Said anyone who was still a Skull was fair game. We’ve been holed up since at McMillan’s. Cramped as shit if you ask me, but we’re still relatively safe.”

  Shaking my head, I tried to work through all of this. All-out war on the Skulls. Not a good thing. Especially since we weren’t as organized, as prepared, as we should have been. I should have been ready for this. Hope for peace, but prepare for war, right? But I hadn’t been preparing. I’d been too busy feeling secure in the knowledge that it was our territory first. I’d been foolish.

  “Look, Shane’s gotta know you’re alive now, right?” Patrick half asked, half stated. I nodded my head. “So that means he’s after you again. Gonna try to finish what he started.”

  I nodded. “He’s already started.”

  I briefly went over the events of the previous day. I didn’t want to linger on what happened to Ma, but the horror was plain on his face. And then the anger. It came swiftly, just as I knew it would with the rest of the guys once they heard of what happened. We talked a little about it afterwards. The police would find her soon, but it would likely be one of Shane’s boys who got the case. We talked about the repercussions, who was going to be blamed. Then we just talked about Ma.

  By the time Patrick finally left, I felt emotionally worn out. But I was angry, too. Angry that Shane was doing all of this. None of it had to happen. I’d been willing to compromise for peace. He wasn’t. Now there were lives at stake and he didn’t seem to give a shit about any of them.

  I closed the door behind my friend, promising that I would head to McMillan’s soon. I didn’t mention Elle yet because I wasn’t sure what to say about her.

  And I wasn’t sure if I should mention her at all or if she would want me to.

  When I turned away from the door, I saw her standing there with her arms crossed, still dressed in the shirt she’d slept in last night. My shirt.

  I cleared my throat. “How long have you been standing there?”

  She shrugged a little. “Long enough.”

  There was a long pause before she spoke again. “Is this really just about territory and sibling rivalry?” Elle asked, hugging herself and looking up at me with those huge blue eyes. Like she would believe me, whatever I told her, but it was because she wanted to, not because I was probably telling the truth.

  That was what made me admit that there was more to the story. A part I hadn’t wanted to share. I hesitated still, but knew I had to be upfront with her. She needed to know what she was in the middle of. I took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “No. It’s not. That’s how it started, but…well, it’s gotten more complicated than that. His name was Macalister and he was just a punk kid sent on a fool’s errand.”

  Elle took a careful breath, then asked slowly, cautiously, “What happened?”

  I remembered the fight. I shouldn’t have been out that night. I shouldn’t have been at the docks. But I was and I knew someone was following me. Rumors and warnings both had brought me there, but it had all been a set up. What was worse, for all Shane’s anger, I wasn’t sure he hadn’t set that poor kid up. If he really expected Macalister to take me out, he was a fool. But if he didn’t think the kid was up to it, why send him at all? Unless Shane had already written him off.

  The thought made my guts churn uncomfortably. I didn’t want to think that was true. Surely there was some sort of decency left buried inside my brother. But even as I hoped and wished that, I remembered how callously his men had gunned down Ma. Shane hadn’t been there, but I didn’t think they would have done that if Shane hadn’t given them the okay.

  After all, she had raised him, too. Meaning she should have been off limits to everyone in the Irish Hounds. I couldn’t imagine any of them being that stupid.

  They must have had permission.

  Which meant Macalister had probably been set up just as I had. Maybe it was an initiation rite, a prove your mettle moment. I didn’t know and I didn’t care. Because whether Shane set him up or not, he was still very dead. And that was on my hands.

  I swallowed before I answered Elle. I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to see the way she would look at me when she realized I, too, was a murderer. I didn’t want her to realize the man she’d shared a bed with—or a couch and a floor—the last three nights was a monster. But I found I had to tell her. Maybe it was respect or the sense that she would know I was lying, but I had to be honest with her.

  “It was several months ago,” I told her, remembering that night as clearly as this moment right now. “A couple of the boys tipped me off that one of Shane’s goons was causing trouble down at the docks. One of the guys could have gone, but for some reason I insisted on going that night. I don’t know whether I’m grateful or upset with myself for insisting like that, but it doesn’t matter now. I went. Can’t change that.”

  She nodded, indicating to me that she was still listening. Her blue eyes watched me like a hawk, her ears straining to hear every word that slipped out. Like this was juicy gossip, or like she wanted desperately to understand.

  I hoped it was the latter.

  “I went down to the docks, but when I got there it was deserted.” I paused, then added, “At least it seemed that way. But Shane had sent one of his men to follow me—and to kill me. At least I think so.” He did try to kill me, I reassured myself. I was right about this. I hadn’t killed that kid for no reason. And even then, I hadn’t meant to kill him. He’d fallen into that pipe—okay, I’d shoved him into it—but I didn’t mean to. It hadn’t been my intention to shove a pole through his chest.

  Elle put a hand lightly on my arm, bringing me back to her. She smiled softly, if a little sadly. “Tell me.”

  “He swung a two-by-four at my head,” I told her, willing her to understand. I placed my hand over hers on my arm and hoped, somehow, she did. “I did what I had to do. But I didn’t mean to kill him. It…it just happened.”

  For a second, she froze. I worried that the moment I was completely up front with her about it, the moment I said “killed,” she would freak out. After all, I was no better than those men who murdered Ma, right? She was someone’s mother, but that kid had a mother, too. A mother who was never going to see her little boy again. Because of me.

  But then Elle did the strangest thing. She stepped closer to me and wrapped her arms around my chest. “You won’t hurt me,” she whispered softly to me, shocking the hell out of me. “I know it. And I know if you could have avoided it, you wouldn’t have killed him.”

  I let out a shuddering breath and held her back. I told myself I did what I had to do. Reminded myself it was self-defense. But there was always a part of me that wouldn’t be sure and there was always a part of me that would question if there hadn’t been some other way to get around it. “How do you know that?” I whispered, embracing her even if I wasn’t sure I deserved it.

  She held me tighter. “Because I know what kind of a man you are.”

  She pulled back to look at me, but I shook my head. “You can’t know—”

  But Elle put her fingertips to my lips, stopping me in my tracks. She shushed me, then she leaned up, standing on her toes, until she could press her lips softly against mine. My eyes closed and I fell into the kiss. Her lips were full and soft, warm, pliant. I pressed mine harder against them.

  My arms tightened around her waist, hugging her tightly against my body. Her full breasts f
lattened against my chest and I felt the now familiar urge to have her. Her arms wound up around my neck and her hands found the tips of my hair, winding it around her delicate fingers.

  I let my hands wander her body, grateful she was only wearing my t-shirt, grateful she was pressed up against me, and that she’d started the kiss this time.

  My hands slipped to the hem of that shirt, finding her smooth, milky thighs. I followed them up higher until I was fully beneath that shirt, my hands caressing her perky ass. I was pleasantly surprised to find she didn’t have any underwear. I remembered her clothes were still at Ma’s and there was a chance that, like the bra, she hadn’t borrowed any underwear.

  Which suited me just fine.

  She moaned into my mouth and I took the opportunity to slide my tongue in. She held me tighter, pulled me closer, sending me all the right signals. She wanted more.

  And I was all about giving it to her.

  I gave her ass a squeeze, then moved my hands up higher, taking the shirt with me. I felt along the small of her back, trailed a finger along her spine. She shivered and moaned again. I swallowed the sound, continuing to press heated kisses to her. When my palms flattened across her shoulder blades, I finally broke the kiss and pulled back.

  Elle didn’t seem to like that and tried to lean towards me again. I smirked, pleased with her reaction, but said, “I want your shirt off.”

  She paused and the air was thick with tension. There was no mistaking what I wanted now and she had to honestly think about whether or not she wanted it, too.

  She stepped back, extracting her hands from my body, and I felt disappointment wash through me. I was sure this meant rejection, but then she grabbed the hem of her shirt and jerked it up over her head. She let it fall to the floor, her entire body bare before me.

  My eyes took the time to devour her small but curvy frame. Her hair cascaded in wild curls down her back and across her left shoulder, having dried without so much as a brush to tame them. Her breasts were full and perky, her nipples already erect. Her body tapered down then to form a tiny waist before flaring out to those wide hips I’d come to like so much. Her legs went on for miles.

  Her body wasn’t a carbon copy of the image I’d had in my head, the body from the dream, but it was close. Which meant she was so Goddamned hot that she was my wet dream. In real life.

  I walked to her, but she held out a hand to stop me. She gestured to my own clothing. “Fair is fair.”

  I smirked at her, but agreed without hesitation. I jerked my shirt up over my head, exposing the hard muscles I’d earned from hours in the gym and working at the shop. I felt her eyes on me, devouring me just as I’d done to her. It sent another wave of desire through me. There was little more powerful than knowing someone else wanted you.

  My fingers began to undo my belt and then my jeans. Her eyes were riveted to the movements and when I kicked of the remaining layers of my clothing, I saw her suck in a quick breath.

  When we came together again, I grabbed her by the hips and jerked her up in one smooth motion. Her legs automatically parted and wrapped themselves tightly around me. Her arms wound around my neck again and she found my lips. Our mouths opened instantly this time as I held her tightly against me.

  I walked her back to the den, laying her down slowly on the couch. Funny, this was where it happened in the dream, too, I thought mildly amused, then her hand trailed down my chest to wrap around my hardened length and the amusement fled. All that was left over was desire. Intense, undeniable desire.

  My hands went to her breasts, fondling them, weighing them in my palm. They were the perfect kind of round with that smooth slope from her collarbone to the tip of her nipple. I leaned down and popped the peak into my mouth, rolling it around between my teeth.

  She moaned and pumped me a little harder.

  I let my hand wander lower and slip between her legs. I felt her there, testing to see if she was wet for me, if she was ready for me to slide inside her. Because I needed to. Desperately, urgently.

  My finger slipped between her lips to discover that she was most definitely wet. Moisture coated my finger and I groaned against her breast. She felt better than I imagined.

  “Ciaran,” she murmured softly from above.

  The way her name slipped off her tongue made me want to do still more things to her. I allowed my finger to slide into her warm, wet opening. She gasped and arched her back. I was surprised by how tight she seemed and wondered just how long it had been since her last time.

  I fingered her for a while, letting her body writhe and respond to the pleasurable feeling of my finger. After several thrusts, I added a second finger.

  “Oh God,” she muttered, and her hand gave me a hard squeeze.

  I grunted, my own hips jerking into her hand. I was half tempted to just let her jerk me until I exploded, but I wanted so desperately to be buried in her warm, waiting body that I wasn’t ready to leave it at something like a hand job.

  Pulling my finger away from her tight, wet center, I used that hand to still hers. I stalled her rhythmic motions on my cock, though it was no easy thing to do. She looked up at me, breathless and questioning.

  “What is it?” she asked me.

  I shook my head. “I don’t want to come that way, Elle. I want more.”

  She shivered and her breath caught. But she nodded her head. “Yes. Please, yes.”

  I did as she asked, tugging her legs open by draping on over the side of the couch and settling the other over my shoulder. From there, I positioned myself between her thighs. Her pussy was pink and slick with moisture. I met her eyes. “You ready?”

  She nodded. Her hand once again reached for my dick, sliding over the length. She gave me a quick stroke, then used her grip to direct me to her entrance. I balanced myself above her with my arms and allowed her to guide me. When the tip of my cock touched her, I groaned and nearly jerked into her in one fell swoop. I trembled with the effort of holding myself back, but God did I want to take her.

  “Please,” she murmured, and I nodded in response.

  Slowly, I pushed myself in until the head spread her lips wider and found its way into her core. She moaned and my own deep, rumbling groan quickly joined hers. I used my hips to push myself in deeper, adding an inch and then another until my entire length was buried within her tight, hot pussy.

  She felt like fucking heaven.

  I trembled and sweated with pleasure. My heart pounded urgently in my chest. I needed to move. I began to pull out of her and she made still more delightful, breathy sounds. When I was almost completely pulled out, I thrust myself back in with one hard shove. I buried myself as deep as I could go inside her and she cried out.

  I did it again. And again.

  Quickly, I built up a rhythm that was hard and fast. It spoke of how much I wanted her, how much I’d been thinking about doing this with her, but also of something else. How much I needed this right now. With everything that had happened, the danger and the loss, I needed this moment with her even if she decided later this was the last moment I would get with her.

  Her hand reached up and touched my face, smoothing over the stubble that was growing there, her eyes locked on to mine. She made encouraging, mewling noises, which only served to spur me on.

  I pushed into her harder and harder, watching as her back arched against my thrusts and her breasts bounced to the rhythm of our sex. Her hands ran through my hair and slid across my bare body, scraping against my shoulders, gripping my backside.

  I could feel my release fast approaching. Tension was winding up inside me like a coil ready to spring free. Desire pushed me faster and harder into her, drawing out sweet, desperate noises from her bruised and swollen lips.

  “I’m going to come soon,” I grunted to her, warning in case she decided she wasn’t so great with me releasing my seed inside her. Personally, I thought that was a damn fine achievement to be thinking about that while I was buried deeply inside of her.

&nbs
p; “Yes, please,” was all she managed to get out, and I took that as permission.

  I thrust inside her one last time, feeling my release overtake me. Pleasure washed over me. I jerked as I spilled myself inside of her, my body becoming like jelly. I had to work hard to keep myself supported above her. Her hands caressed me and she kissed me until I came down from my high. We couldn’t both fit comfortably laying on the couch, so we shuffled around until we were both sitting. She ended up on my lap and while I was sated and not ready for another round, I pleasured her until she reached her own release.

  Then we fell asleep like that. I had just enough conscious brain left to grab the throw blanket and drape it across our naked bodies.

  Chapter 14

  Elle

  We’d woken up naked and I, at least, was a little bit sore. But the good kind of sore. It reminded me of the way he’d buried himself inside of me and I didn’t have any problems with reminders of that. We’d made out heatedly and it might have turned into something more, but didn’t quite make it that far. Ciaran was the one to pull back, but not because he wanted to. That much was evidenced by the erection pressing up between my legs.