by Amy Davies
I will never be her again.
My breathing is coming in short pants. My chest is getting tighter and tighter. I reach for the zipper, but a hand stops me.
“Jamie, breath,” he says and wraps his arms around my shoulders. “In and out. That’s it, good girl.” Ace’s voice reaches my ears and the fog starts to clear. Ace steps in front of me, keeping my shoulders in his grip. I swallow and take a deep breath. I nod, and he steps back a little.
I look at the people in the bar, all watching the show. Humiliation washes over me as I look at each of their faces. My eyes connect with Dyson’s and my breath catches in my throat at the look on his face. Regret and upset.
I turn to face Andrew.
“Can you handle the bar for a bit?” He nods at me and gives me a smile. He’s quite a good-looking guy, but again, not my type. He kind of reminds me of the Welsh rugby player George North.
I don’t say anything else. I step around Ace and walk out from behind the bar, heading for my office. I need to lock myself away for a bit. I need to clear my head and get it straight again.
Pushing the door open and then closing behind me, I lean against it and take a deep breath. My eyes pop open when a knock sounds from the other side. I frown and step away from the door, pull it open, and see who is disturbing my alone time.
“Can I come in?” Dyson asks.
I shake my head. “No, I think you should leave.”
“Not happening, babe.” He doesn’t wait for me to speak again. He pushes his way into my office. I sigh and close the door, turning to face the man who is standing in the middle of my office, turning around in a circle, taking in the whole room. The room is a good size but feels small with him standing in it.
“I like what you’ve done with the place. Stu would never have upgraded. Stuck in the old ways, that man.” I smile, thinking that he’s right about Uncle Stu.
“That’s true.” I walk past him and take a seat in my desk chair. The computer screens are on, so I flick through the cameras placed around the pub in the hopes it will help distract me and my beating heart that is doing its best to break free.
Even though I’m clicking the computer’s mouse to show the different screens, my body is fully aware of Dyson in the room. I bite my lip and try to keep my breathing even, so he doesn’t know I’m struggling right now.
“Look, I’m sorry for what I said down in the bar. I need to learn to shut the fuck up, babe.” He steps over to me, and my breathing picks up. He sets is arse on the edge of my desk, crossing his ankles over and folding his arms. He looks sexy as sin right now.
I notice the way his jeans tighten over his thick thighs; thighs I would love to touch and caress.
Stop it, Jamie!
I chastise myself.
“You were a dick, Dyson. I’ll give you that. That mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble one day.” I smirk at him, trying to look unaffected by his closeness.
“My mouth is more useful doing other things than getting into trouble. Like giving an orgasm, or five.” He wiggles his eyebrows at me. My pussy twitches, and my thong is now wet with need. Damn this man.
“I bet you could,” I mutter, turning back to the screens. We sit in a comfortable silence while I check through my cameras. I feel him, and I turn my head to see what he’s doing. He walks over to my drinks cabinet and pulls out two tumblers. He reaches for a bottle of vodka, a bottle I brought back with me from my trip to Russia.
He struts over to my desk, setting the tumblers on top, before opening the bottle and adding some to the glasses. My eyes move from the tumblers to his face. His gaze flicks to mine, and he catches me staring at him. He smirks at me. He nods down at the glass, pushing it towards me with the back of his fingers.
“Drink.” I lift the tumbler to my lips and take a sip. The liquid wets my dry mouth and throat before settling in my empty stomach. Damn it, Lance will kick my arse again for not eating. It’s a very bad habit of mine. It stems from that night.
Even though I have fought my way back to being me—well, a better version of me—my appetite kind of vanished that night. I didn’t eat for weeks after it happened. I was weak, but Aunt Trudy let me wallow for a time and then kicked my arse into gear.
“I’m more of a gin kinda girl.”
“Good taste in alcohol. I wonder if you have good taste in men, too.” He winks at me, taking a sip of his drink. I chuckle and down the rest of the vodka in the glass. I need a lot of liquid courage if I’m going to have this conversation with him. I take the bottle off the table and take a big swig of the clear liquid that will help me tell him things I wanted to tell him all those years ago.
I know it won’t make a lick of difference but fuck it. I cough and almost choke at the speed the vodka slides down my throat.
“You okay there, babe?” He rubs my back, and the heat from his touch makes me shiver and my pussy pulse with need. Why the fuck is my body acting this way towards a man?
Oh yeah, because the man is Wesley-fucking-Taylor.
“I’m good, thanks.” I straighten up in my chair and climb to my feet. I move to stand between his spread legs. His eyes widen at my movement, and I smile at him. My tits are pretty much at his eye level, so he’s getting quite an eyeful of the girls. Lucky man.
“Jamie. Baby, what are you doing?” I take the edge of his cut, loving the way the leather feels in my hand. Leather and lace are my thing. I flatten my palms over his chest and run my hands up and over his shoulders. The leather feels soft but old to the touch. It smells fucking divine. The leather smell, wood and oil, with a touch of smoke. All Dyson.
“I have always had good taste in men, Wesley Taylor. It was just the boy I liked didn't know it, and by the time he actually took notice of me, it was too late. I was ruined.” I feel his hands move and rest on my naked hips. His thumbs run back and forth, making goose bumps appear.
“Well, the guy was a dick for taking too long, but maybe he’s still interested.” He jerks my body forward, so we’re touching, my thighs against his.
Leaning forward, he buries his head in the crook of my neck, laying his lips there. The touch sends a violent shiver through me and my thong goes up in flames. My hands abandon his shoulders and wrap around his neck, holding him to me. I know I should push him away, but his lips feel so good on my skin.
His tongue slips out and licks my neck, making me moan his name. God, he is so good at what he’s doing, and he’s only kissing and licking my neck. How good is it going to feel when I get his mouth between my legs?
His hands slip from my waist and travel down over my arse. He groans when he takes the globes in his hands, pulling me even closer to him. I need to stop this. But I don’t want to—oh, believe me, I do not want to stop him from touching me, because this feels so damned good, and it’s been a while since I have been well and truly fucked.
Our gaze connects, and a flash of that night comes to the surface.
* * *
I feel the weight being lifted off me, and I roll to my side, crying silently. I can hear yelling, but I can’t make out the voices. I bring my legs up to my chest, forming a protective ball out of my body.
“Hey, Jamie, sweet girl. It’s Ace McGowan. Can you stand? We need to get you out of here.” We? Who is with him? I unfold myself and turn to see Wesley standing behind Ace, looking down at me with anger and concern on his face. The boy should never frown. He’s too good looking to frown or look unhappy. With what just happened to me, I should be scared to death of these two boys, but oddly, I’m not. I feel safe with them.
I nod and start to stand. Ace holds his hands out to me to take, not actually touching me. He’s giving me control on the contact, and for that I am grateful.
I stumble on my feet. Everything hurts. I expect to fall, but I don’t hit the ground. I twist my head and see Wesley holding me. He gives me a weak smile and lifts me off my feet.
I go to scramble, but he tightens his hold.
“Stay. You’re hurt
and can’t walk. We need to get you home quickly. Hold tight, babe.”
“Babe?” I snap back to the present and see Dyson looking at me with concern. I pull out of his hold and pick up the bottle of vodka, before pouring myself another drink.
“Where did you go just then?” His voice makes me still. The question rattles around my head.
“I’m fine, and I’m right here, Dyson.”
“Wesley.” I turn and look at him, confused.
“What?”
“I like you saying my name. It sounds sexy coming from those plump lips of yours.” He smirks at me. I tilt my head and look at him. Men like Wesley Taylor should not be allowed to look this sexy.
I mean, he has a face I could ride for days.
Without a doubt, his cock can take me on just as good of a ride as his face.
I got a feel of his hard chest and shoulders, so I know he works out, and I bet he has stamina for days.
“Jamie.” Damn it, did I fall into the Dyson Desire Cave? Ha! I laugh inside my head at the new name of the place I go when I think of Dyson.
“Why do they call you ‘Dyson’?” I need to turn this conversation away from me. He frowns at the sudden change in me, but then he chuckles. He walks over to the couch I love so fucking much. It’s grey leather, but it has a distressed look to it.
He drops onto the couch and crosses his legs, resting his ankle on his knees and laying one arm over the back of the couch, like he has done it a million times before. Looking like he belongs there.
“Sit.”
“What am I, a fucking dog?” I snark, but pick up my glass, that is newly refilled with vodka, and walk over to him, sitting on the other side of the couch. I place my back on the arm of the couch and bend my leg, tucking my foot behind my knee. I take a sip of my drink and arch a brow at him, waiting for his explanation.
“Fuck, you are going to piss yourself laughing when I tell you this. But please keep in mind I was twelve and fucking horny as fuck, yeah?” I nod.
“Fuck. Okay. Being brought up in the club, I was around the club girls twenty-four-seven. But as I was a minor, fuck all could happen. Anyway, I walked in on two of the girls fucking each other, and my dick went rock hard in seconds, and I mean seconds. It was the sexiest thing I had ever seen at that point.” He winks at me, and I shake my head. He takes another drink, and I watch as his Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows. Is that supposed to be sexy?
“Carry on.”
“I hate telling this story. I watched as they fucked each other, rubbing their tits all over each other, and their pussies. Damn, it was hot.”
“I get the picture, Wes.” He smiles when I use his birth name.
“You had a threesome, baby?” he asks me, wiggling his eyebrows at me, a sexy smile on his face. A face I bet no woman says ‘no’ to.
“I haven’t, no. But you never know.” I wink back at him, and he chuckles. “Name?”
“Okay, okay, woman. Anyway, they caught me watching, so one of the girls threw a shoe at me. I ran out of the clubhouse and over to my house, which is right behind the compound—Dad always wanted to be near the club. Well, I didn’t know Dad was having a meeting at the house, so I dodged everyone and ran to my room.”
He downs the rest of his drink before he continues, and I chuckle at how he’s stalling his story.
“I got to my room and thought I locked the door, but clearly I didn’t. I started wanking off, but it wasn’t making me feel good. I remember hearing boys at school talking about sticking their dicks in—”
“Oh, please don’t tell you did?” I laugh.
“Yeah, I did. I grabbed my mum’s Dyson hoover and stuck my dick in the pipe. I was about to turn it on when my dad and a few of the brothers came in and saw me. From that day, I was ‘Dyson’.”
“Did you at least come?”
“Nope. Those fuckers hoover-blocked me. I was so fucking scared to wank off for weeks after.”
“I can only imagine. But I also know how Wesley Taylor, aka Dyson, turned out. You weren’t scared for that long.” I wink at him.
It’s true. All the girls wanted in him college, and I was told he was a bit of a slut through school as well, using the MC to get pussy. Typical biker.
Dyson
I pull up outside of Silk and kill the engine. I climb off and head inside, out of the rain. Asia is standing by the bar, flirting with some bloke. She winks at me as I walk past her. I ignore her and keep walking. She is the one woman I will never touch with my dick, or any other part of my body. I feel sorry for the poor prick who marries that.
I walk straight up to the office where Suede, Ace and Batch are. Suede looks like he’s about to blow his top. Something must have happened.
“What’s happened now?” I ask and walk over to the coffee pot. I need fucking coffee. I didn't get a wink of sleep last night. Jamie was running through my skull all night.
The way she felt under my palms… I could have stayed there all night just touching her. But I know Jamie is a tough nut to crack after the shit she went through. Yeah, she came out on top and hard as fuck, but you can’t tell me the shit that happened to these people doesn’t stay with them their whole lives.
“Some fucker burned down The Red Rose, which is owned by our Glasgow chapter. The Pres, Snake, is fucking fuming. A note was sent to the clubhouse.”
“Saying what?”
“That he will get what's his, and he won't fail in getting her again,” Ace growls out. I should have known. That fucking motherfucker Gary. Ana’s ex-husband. I see the three men standing before me are fucking livid and are out for blood. I take a sip of my coffee and lean against the small unit.
“So, it was that wanker Gary?” Ace nods, his jaw so tight I’m fucking surprised it hasn't cracked yet. Ace is fiercely in love with Ana, and he will do anything to protect her and Blair. I can’t blame him for that. Mouse still suffers with her memory when she is tired or stressed.
The way he has changed over the past year and a bit is fucking crazy to see. Ace was always the one who fucked anything that moved, like the rest of us, but he was colder about it, like Court. But when Ana and Zarah walked in the cafe, his eyes lit up and he sat a little straighter. We could see he wanted her within seconds of her coming into the cafe. I literally saw my best friend change before my eyes, and by fuck it was good to see.
Ana, or Mouse, as well all call her, is really good for Ace. He can be very hot-tempered when dealing with club shit, but with Mouse, he’s like a fucking jelly bean, soft as shit.
Thinking of hot-tempered and soft on the inside, my mind wanders to Jamie London again. Fuck my life, that woman has been taking over my skull ever since I walked into The Silver Bowl. I know Jamie looks hard on the outside, but I can tell she is all soft on the inside. Warm and soft, like velvet melting on my tongue.
Oh fuck.
I look down and my cock is trying to break free again. This is what this sexy woman from my past does to me. I adjust myself and look back at the men in the room, who are not taking a bit of notice of me. I tune back into the conversation as Ace is explaining a few things.
“The way I see it, the boys up in Glasgow need to track him down. I have had Click on a searching mission for him, but she hasn’t found anything in months. It’s like the bastard vanished or someone is hiding him. She’s working around the clock to help, but she needs to concentrate on her college work as well.” Ace sighs and rubs his temples. I know this is killing him, not finding Gary, but he doesn’t have to do this alone, and he knows that.
I drink the rest of my coffee and drop the mug in the small sink in the corner. I’m glad Mum got this office ready when we bought the club years ago. She knew what would be needed in here and got it sorted.
“We will get him, brother. He will be buried six feet fucking under soon enough. Is everything else okay around here?”
Batch walks over to the one-way window, looking down on the girls and the clients. He sighs deeply and rests his hands on
his hips. I can see how tense his is with how hunched his shoulders are. I leave Suede and Ace talking and walk over to where Batch is.
“You okay, man?” I slap him on the shoulder. His gaze stays on the room below. He takes a deep breath and turns his head towards me.
“You getting tired of this shit, man?” He nods to the window. I look down and see the girls dancing around the pole and serving clients their drinks. I hear him, I do. It gets old quick. But am I really ready to settle down?
“On some days, yeah. But fuck, brother, I like variety. What can I say?” I smirk at him. He chuckles, shaking his head.
“Hey, variety is good but gets old. I want a woman I can come home to, someone who will see Grace as her own. I am getting way too fucking old for all this shagging around.” I hear him on that note. He’s been feeling somewhat lost since Grace was dumped on him. Well, I say dumped; her cunt of a mother left her. But she is one lucky baby girl to have such an amazing dad, and a shit load of awesome uncles to watch over her.
“Never say never. I’m out. I promised I would help EC with is bike.” He nods and turns back to the room. I say my goodbyes to my dad and Ace, and head to EC’s house.
“Fuck a cunt,” I huff when the bolt finally frees up. We have been working on this bike for fucking hours—well, it feels like it anyway. EC bought a piece of scrap bike and thought he would rebuild it. He is awesome at this shit. Me, I fix things. I am not that creative to build shit from scratch.
“The fucker was on tight. I have been trying for ages to get that loose, thanks, brother.” I chuckle and wipe the oil off my hand with a grubby cloth hanging out of the back of my jeans. My throat is dry as fuck sitting in this freak warm weather we are having for the end of March.
“You want a drink?” I holla at EC, while I walk into his kitchen. He inherited the house from his grandparents. Even though his parents didn’t want him, they did.