Jaxson (Kinsmen MC Book 1)
Author: Parker, Hazel; Allen, J.C.
Date: 2019-01-13

JAXSON

As soon as I saw her, I wanted her.

But I knew I couldn’t have her.

I’ve taken over as president of the Kinsmen MC.

My father started the club and now it’s left to me to keep things going.

Every inch of my life is boring and routine, until she walks into my bar.

Sweet brown eyes, wavy dark hair, kissable lips…I was done for.

If I have just one taste of her, I can let her go – at least that was the plan.

Now the club is in trouble, and it’s up to me to save them. Isabelle White starts to be the only thing keeping me together.

I just hope I can save the club, without losing her in the process.

Jaxson

KINSMEN MC BOOK 1

Hazel Parker

J.C. Allen

Copyright © 2019 by Hazel Parker

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Created with Vellum

Contents

1. Jaxson

2. Isabelle

3. Jaxson

4. Isabelle

5. Jaxson

6. Isabelle

7. Jaxson

8. Isabelle

9. Isabelle

10. Jaxson

11. Isabelle

12. Jaxson

13. Jaxson

14. Isabelle

15. Isabelle

16. Jaxson

17. Jaxson

18. Isabelle

19. Jaxson

20. Isabelle

Epilogue - Jaxson

Also by J.C. Allen

Derek

1

Jaxson

The stretch of the open road is this only thing I can enjoy these days. The feeling of my bike riding across the asphalt, winding down the road, with only me in control of it. I need to have the control.

Unfortunately that gets interrupted for me when I reach the Club entrance, Kinsmen has been in my longer than I can remember but after Dad passed, it’s only been haunting me every day I show up.

I park my bike in its usual spot in the back and kick my leg over the bike before the engine is even off. Walking inside, I greet the usual people on the way that I see everyday. Joe, the mechanic, Sean, our bouncer, and Frank, the cook and occasional server when people actually order food.

The club has always moonlighted as a bar and tap room, our day job, I suppose.

I walk to the back to start what I came to do in the first place. Which is my everyday task of pretending to work in the office before I end up kicking back with one of my brothers. Today is different, though, because Mom walks in with her usual smile a few hours before her usual lunch time drop off.

“Jaxson, I brought you some breakfast.” Her smile widens as she sets down an ordinary plastic container. I smile back at her, still finding it hard to believe why people say I’m a spitting image of her. With our same brown hair and brown eyes, I suppose they might be right.

“Thank you.” It’s only just after eleven, and I already smell that she brought me her signature biscuit recipe. I’m not watching my waist line or anything, so it doesn’t really matter that I eat them every fucking day.

“You’re welcome. Try not to work too hard today.” She gives me her stern look but at twenty-eight, it only makes me smile now.

“You’re telling me?” I ask her, raising my brow as I look down at her. Way down, because she’s a measly five foot two and I’m six three.

“I have the safest job in the world.” She says sarcastically, an ER nurse is far from safe and I agree. But it’s a small town. The worst injuries she’s seen have been here at the club.

“I’ll be back before dinner tonight though, you and your brothers should come. I haven’t seen you all together in a long time.” She sighs. In her scrubs and leather jacket, she still looks like the mom I’ve always had. But in the past year, it’s been hard to see the light go out in her eyes a little bit after our dad died.

“Well we aren’t in high school anymore, Mom, we won’t be together everyday.”

She smiles at that, but it’s one of her sad ones and I feel semi bad for it.

“Fine. Just ask them.”

We say our goodbyes and then she’s gone. I’m alone in my office for the better part of the afternoon, again avoiding doing any actual work. The biscuits only keep me occupied for so long. I answer some of the phone calls from the local businesses that we work with for support, being a part of the community is what actually makes it easy to be part of a club. The misconceptions get in the way a lot but they’re true, for the most part. We just do our shit and don’t cause any trouble we don’t have to.

After that, I start looking over the prospects. It’s nothing official, just notes that I keep, detailing how much I do and do not like certain people. The thing about prospects is how fresh and irritating they actually are. Thinking being in the club means they can wreak havoc on the city just cause they have the cut. I’ll be fucked if I let just anyone join, it’s the first year after Dad passed and it’s up to me to not fuck it up.

Our clubs weren’t like the others. Irish origin, small town in Minnesota… we kind of get to make our own rules. But it doesn’t mean we can tarnish the name of MC clubs. It’s like a brotherhood, a comradery so deeply instilled that you couldn’t shake it with a hurricane. So I can’t let just anyone in. The three prospects we had last year—bad idea.

It gets to three pm before I even think about calling my brothers. I know where Matthew will be because he is fully devoted to the club, more so than me. We all grew up together, my three brothers and I, but Simon distanced himself as we got older and then completely last year when dad died. Zeke is the youngest and still follows everyone around, which is fine, he’s only twenty one. But Matthew has been in for a while but is always there if I need him.

I find Matthew exactly where I suspected, under the hood of his Mustang he never drives, because like the rest of us, bikes are what we know. I decide to throw a wrench at him to get his attention, it lands on the back of his jean-clad thigh and he barely winces as he looks up.

“Fuck off.” He greets, but with a smile as he straightens out. Just as tall as me, but way beefier, we look just about the same and are only a year apart. We got into the most trouble growing up.

“Mom wants us to have dinner with her.”

He rolls his eyes as hard as possible. Then he wipes his hands off on the rag and leans on the hood of the car.

“Are we twelve?” He sighs with dramatics. I chuckle under my breath and shrug.

“Might as well be. We should go, she’s lonely. Especially after Dad.” I look off past him and silence ensues as it always does with the mention of Dad. Jay Kinsmen was a legend in the mc community, everyone’s hero around here. But to us, he was just our Dad at the end of the day.

“Yeah. We should probably do whatever she wants us to do. I’ll fucking take a bed time story if needed.” He half chuckles under his breath and scratches at his beard. He’s been trying to grow it out for I don’t know how long, but it finally takes up half his face and makes him look like a fucking lumberjack on a motorcycle.

“I’m with you there. You gotta call Simon though.”

He groans the same way I do internally. Simon is… hard to deal with. Always has been, but he’s only gotten worse. I don’t know how else to describe my older brother other than he’s an asshole.

“I’ll call him. He’s probably at one of his sites anyway.” He nods to himself and gets his phone out of his pocket, wipes the screen on his gray tee shirt spotted with oil.

“What are you working on out here anyway?” I ask him as he scrolls to call.

“Just tuning the engine.”

“Is there really that much more you can do to it?” I circle around the car, “it seems like any more you do to it will make it fall apart.”

He snorts, “Yeah right. It doesn’t work that way.” He cuts off to answer the phone. I briefly hear him ask and then have to curse him out. Probably because Simon says some stupid shit all the time.

“Yeah see you, fuck you.” Matthew hangs up. I chuckle at them. They’re actually the two out of all of use that get along the most. I don’t think I really got closer with any of them more than the other. Probably because I’m kind of in the middle.

“Is he coming?”

“Should be.” Matthew answers.

I hang out in the garage until he finishes his tinkering. We walk back in to see a few patrons at the bar, all regulars. It’s an incredibly rare occurrence for someone new to show up here, so we all take notice when they do.

And I do.

She sits at the end of the bar, like a sore thumb except she isn’t, because something about her just makes her… I can’t place it. I walk by and try not to stare so that Matthew especially doesn’t dog me about it.

We stop at the end of the bar where Frank offers us beers and we accept. While they chat, it’s my chance to look over at her again.

She is sitting at the far end of the bar, her striking brown hair shines under the dim lighting, that’s usually unflattering over the bar. But on her it just sets her on fire. Her big, soft brown eyes blink up at the television screen, every few seconds she’ll sip on her straw, at what looks like a plain vodka cran. I realize I’m staring but it’s too late, before she looks my way.

I glance off and it’s probably the most awkward thing to happen to me since high school, and in a small town, no one ever forgets the awkward things.

“Jax?”

“Huh?” I bring myself back to the situation, Matthew stares at me expectantly. I guess he asked me something.

“What?”

“We need another bar night, for the prospects and such.” He fills me in. I glance at Frank, who only shrugs like it’s official business and up to us, which it is.

“Let’s uh—” I’m distracted by the scratch of a bar stool and coins clattering on the wood bar top. I look to find it’s her, the woman leaving. And I watch her walk out the door without being able to say or do anything, which doesn’t happen. It shouldn’t at least, not to me. It isn’t the swing in her hips or drop of her shoulders, long hair flowing down her back… it’s just something else.

“Talk in the office.” I finish.

Matthew nods and we walk through to the back. A makeshift conference room of an oval table and chairs sit with out cut symbol over the table; a Celtic cross wrapped with skulls and a ribbon that says Kinsmen on it, it’s green in the center unless we have it in black and white on our jackets. I took mine off a few hours ago, but we usually wear it almost all the time.

“I don’t want them to think all we do is party.” I sit at one of the chairs and he drops next to me.

“It’s not a party, man. It’s drinks at the bar. Pool, darts. No big deal.” He shrugs.

I sigh and rub at my forehead. As soon as I sat down it’s suddenly felt like a long hard day.

“I don’t know. I’ll think about it.” I evade the subject.

“Head ass.” He chortles.

“Fuck off.”

We look at some of the prospects together but decide to get Zeke’s opinion on the others over dinner, or after, since Mom hates having business at the table. Simon will probably avoid the conversation all together but we’re used to that by now. I hope he comes around but I can’t force him to.

Matthew and I ride back to the house together coattail on the road. Some people honk at us on the opposite side, and I guess they know us, I just can’t see who it is from the bike, I drive way too fast. I’ve always had the same bike, only thing I changed was the seat when I got taller, the handle bars too.

On the way, I keep images of the mystery girl flashing in my head. I’m almost glad she didn’t pay with a credit card, I don’t think I would have stopped myself from looking at her name. Just to have something to put with the face. Her pretty fucking perfect face.

We pull in the back garage and Zeke’s bike is already there. Matthew and I walk in together, with our cuts on, though he changed his shirt since it was spattered with oil. Already, we smell what Mom is cooking in the kitchen.

We’ve lived in the same house since we were children. It’s modest, we each had our own rooms though, and a pool in the backyard. Land is just cheap here, though, and Dad was buddies with a guy in construction, the same one Simon works for now. The back door leads right into the living room, then a single hallway down to the kitchen where we find Mom. Upstairs is all one row down the rooms, though I haven’t been in that bedroom in years, for more than a few hours at a time.

“Hello boys, nice of you to finally show up.”

I glance at the clock and it’s after seven. Matthew and I must have really lost track of time.

“Whatever.”

I greet Zeke, who looks boyish as ever in his jeans and hoodie, but he has always looked that way. Or I just think he does since he is the youngest.

“I made steaks.” Mom shouts over the kitchen fan. She’s changed into her usual jeans and sweater she wears around the house and tied her long hair up.

As she smiles at us, her eyes crinkle and it’s the only place she actually shows her age sometimes.

“Thanks, Mom. I can finish up. You’ve been on your feet all day.” Matthew convinces her to sit, he’s the only one out of us that can cook real food.

Simon trickles in a few minutes later, looking like he doesn’t want to be here until he sees Mom. He looks the most like dad, out of all of us. A bit taller, darker hair and eyes, harder look to his face. Dad was like that, he looked mean, but he was probably the nicest guy in a room most of the time. You just had to get him talking.

“Thanks Mom, this is great.” Zeke breaks the silence that has been over the dinner table for half the meal.

“You’re welcome… so how are the projects going, Simon?”

He stops mid bite to answer. “Pretty good. We’ve had a few new ones come in.” He swallows. “How is the club?” he asks, almost like he has to force himself to or he doesn’t really want to know.

“Good.” The other three of us almost answer at the same time.

“Uh, we have a bar night tomorrow. You should come, bring the guys.” Zeke says to Simon. He usually gets Simon to come around, maybe it’s because he pulls the big brother card on him all the time.

Simon may not want to do the club thing, but he’s a family guy, and we’re brothers.

“That isn’t for sure though.” I say, kind of pissed that Matthew already said it was.

“Yeah, it is.”

I roll my eyes. But thoughts of the bar bring me back to the mystery girl.

I have to see her again.

2

Isabelle

“It will be a few hours before it’s ready.”

The nice, but very sweaty mechanic is all but nice about telling me that. I nod slowly, looking around at the empty garage. Not sure why it would take a few hours, I nod again anyway and thank him.

“Thanks. I’ll just wait at…” I look around and notice there aren’t any chairs as I hoped there would be.

“You don’t want to wait in here.” He scratches at his bald head and already moves to walk away. “There’s a bar across the street at the club.” He practically waves me off so that I’ll leave. With no reason to argue, I do.

I step outside and the light spring air of Minnesota hits me hard. I hate small towns, I can see the border from here where I stand on a stretch of land, with small shops spread across it. Soon, everyone will know about a new person in town. I would rather live close to the big city, but this is much cheaper, and the drive to campus isn’t that far.

Unless my car breaks down, and only by luck am I seconds from a mechanic. He was excited at first, that I went to him instead of this place across the street. I walk up along the drive and pass dozens of bikes, they look like the kinds from movies and shows, but I hope it’s just a coincidence. Until I see a logo printed on every other door and path on the way to the entrance. Something with skulls and a cross that kind of looks like a cult. But I doubt that would be out here in plain sight.

I feel dressed perfectly for the bar in jeans and plain gray tee shirt. I walk inside to the sound of alternative rock playing over speakers so soft I barely hear it, the television static from the games on them, and two guys playing pool towards the back. I’m not usually a timid person, I don’t think, but I walk down the bar cautiously until I reach a seat at the very end.

The bartender has his back turned to me, counting money at the drawer it seems. I clear my throat but it doesn’t reach. It isn’t until I pull the chair back to sit and the sound screeches against the floor that he takes notice.

“Hey, sorry I didn’t see you there.” He grins. I can’t really place his accent that comes with his deep voice. He has darker hair with lighter eyes, blue or green, I can’t really see from hair. But the gray hair at his temples tell me he is a bit older.

“No problem. Can I just get a vodka-cran please?” It’s my go to drink when I don’t know where I am, or if I’m not sure of the bar’s cocktails.

“Sure, Titos okay?”

I nod once. He smiles kindly and makes the drink. Even though he’s huge, muscled and all, he doesn’t seem like a scary guy. The two dudes at the other end of the bar, though, look like they belong on their monster bikes.

The place seems older but not like it’s out of date. The wall on my left has dart boards, pool tables under it, and the speakers in the back. The rest of the bar has small circular tables situated in the center, decorated with that logo sealed on the top of the tables. I wonder what it means, but not enough to want to ask.

“Here you go.” He sets a coaster down and then the drink, the glass is huge, for just vodka cran. But if my car will take a few hours, I don’t want to be bored. I already know I cant finish it.

“Thanks.” I murmur, but he’s already gone back to counting the drawer.

I didn’t figure people would be in here this early, I thought bars were a nighttime thing but here they are, at just after four. Whatever is on the television is boring, I use my phone to read old notes for class. I usually hate summer school, but after transferring to Minnesota, I didn’t want my grad school to take longer than two years. Plus if I am going to pay to live here, I need the teaching stipend. It’s a regular, introductory class, so I don’t have to work as much as I thought. Besides, college students either do their work or they don’t, there is really no middle to that.

I get about halfway through, an hour later when the seat hurts my ass, that I decide to go check on my car. Even if it isn’t ready, a messed-up transmission can only take so long.

I make the decision to get up but something keeps me grounded in place.

It reminds me of junior high when I would feel people staring at me in class because of my huge glasses or braces or something. And I would know they’re looking but I wouldn’t dare to check and see. So I don’t. I use the corner of my eyes to glance over, noticing two new men at the end of the bar, but I can’t place which one might be which.

They’re both tall, dark hair, built like… for the sake of my sanity I won’t describe it. I assume one is only staring at me because I look completely out of place.

There are no other women in here right now, so I must look incredibly lost to them, or him.

When I get tired of being on display, I go through with my plan to leave. The loud as hell chair scratches against the floor. I leave a ten because I’m not sure how much it is, and don’t want to stay to ask. I figure it should be enough for a tip, too.

I walk outside and the sun hits hard, I hadn’t realized the lights were down so low.

And I didn’t even have a chance to look back and see who was staring at me.

* * *

My savings cry when I pay for my car service. It will be fine in the long run, with my next paycheck and stipend from the university, I should be fine. But that mechanic was mean as hell, I would never go back there.

I make the short drive back to my apartment. A nice, old style building with weird looking carpet and a weird smell that I ignore because the rent is so cheap. With a roommate, it’s perfect. I met her only recently, but I think we’re fast friends.

I walk in to find Riley on the couch with a reality television show playing and the scent of pizza in the air.

“Hey, saved you a slice!” she shouts from the other side of the wall.

An awning with a look through square is right in the entrance, where the purple-gray couch sits in front of the television. We got all our furniture online from Walmart, we’re both on a budget. She’s a local from the town, this was her place that I just moved into. But she was really nice about it, insists that it’s our place now and not just hers. I’ve only known her about a month, but I consider her a friend.

“Thanks.” I drop my purse, kick off my shoes, and go in search of the pizza.

I grab a plate of two slices and a beer to meet her on the couch. I can tell she just got back because she is dressed in her very lazy pink pants and oversized shirt. She’s had a few different jobs before settling as a restaurant manager.

“No problem. I couldn’t finesse any free food from the restaurant tonight.” She giggles.

I smile at her, with her long brown curly hair and mini frame, she’s always just been cute to me. I met her parents once, very sweet lawyers that live in the big city. She’s mixed, so has the perfect shade of skin and hair, always has dudes coming in and out of here. I don’t think she ever wants to settle down and I can’t blame her. Having fun for a while is better than flames dying out.

“Anything fun happen today?” she asks me, only making conversation on commercial break. But I’m used to that.

“My car broke down on the way back.” I went to the university for a meeting with my advisor. I’m in one of the hardest graduate programs that there is, playwriting isn’t open for everyone. Getting in was the second hardest thing I had ever done.

“I told you that thing is a piece of junk.” She cackles.

I finish my slice before I reply. “Well it’s what I can afford.” I snort.

“I get it. So it’s all good now?”

“Yep.” I down some beer, too sour for me, but I needed something to relax.

“I waited at this bar across the street, at least I think it was a bar. There were bikes everywhere and some weird logo.”

She stops chewing and faces me, even when the show isn’t on commercial. She starts laughing hysterically under her breath before it comes full force.

“What? What is it?” I start to smile but am still confused.

She shakes her head at me and waves her hand. “Did you see the name?” she asks me.

I shake my head, “no.” I laugh once under my breath. She takes a deep breath and wipes at her eyes where she teared up from laughing.

“That’s not a bar. Well, technically it is. But… that’s an MC club.”

“A what?” I try to think of what that could mean and fall short. I only ever went to college bars and have no idea what that means.

“A motorcycle club. Oh my god, you’re so cute.” She giggles and nudges my knee. I screw up my face at her and ignore her cackles.

“What, like from the movies?” I ask her.

She shrugs. “Sure. It’s kind of like that. I mean, they exaggerate some things but it’s mostly the same.”

“But…it didn’t seem like they were criminals. There were some guys in there.”

“Well they aren’t all criminals, dufus. That’s the point of it not being the same.” She laughs once.

“Oh.”

“They have bar nights sometimes. Women get in free, sexist but whatever. And they’re usually really fun, they haven’t done it in a while though.”

“How do you know about it?”

“You just know people. My restaurant also just caters to them sometimes, when they have meetings or whatever.”

“Meetings?”

“Yeah. They have an executive board and everything. It’s real shit.” She grins at me, again with that look in her eye, like I’m cute for not knowing any of this. Maybe I am.

“Oh. Okay.”

“There’s one tomorrow. I don’t work Saturday night so I was going to go, I didn’t know if it would be your thing though. But you should come.” Her eyes light up, but she goes back to paying attention to the show.

I wait until the next commercial break comes and I’ve had some pizza and beer in me.

“Maybe I’ll go.” I think.

But it is solely based on the thought of that guy who was staring at me before. That I might see him again. I’d be too chicken to even say anything, but still, I’d like to know more of what he looks like other than dark hair and muscles.

“Oh yay, you should. It’s perfect, since classes start Monday, right?” she asks. I confirm with a nod.

“Good then. It’s settled. We leave at ten.”

* * *

I wake the next morning in a cold sweat. I sit up, pushing my hair back out of my face and adjusting how my tank top removed itself over night. I catch my breath, or try to, as I stare into the blank sunlight of my room.

“That was weird.” I whisper to myself. And lay back down, knowing I won’t go to sleep. I stare at my blank ceiling, going over every scene in my head.

It was a faceless dream, but I still know exactly who it was about. The mystery guy from the bar. Or club. Or whatever the fuck it is.

We were in the same place.

Except I was spread across the counter of the bar top and he was hovered over me.

His muscles bulging, his dark hair looming over me. That’s all I could surface about him. It’s all I could remember. But in that dream I could feel his touch, imagine his scent and warmth. I remember kissing him, amongst other things. But it goes black there. The cold sweat I’m in now is the only proof of it. I haven’t had a vivid dream like that in a long time… or if ever.

Not even my last boyfriend could get me that hot and bothered and I dated him for two years. I don’t even know this man. Or if I made him up. I force myself to stop thinking about him, so that I can just go to this party or whatever with regular expectations and stop building him up in my head.

I finally drag myself up and to the bathroom down the hall. Riley and I share one, but it’s not bad. She’s as clean as me and we’re good about taking turns. I use the bathroom, brush my teeth, and wash my face, before I set off for breakfast. Which always ends up just being coffee until I’m starving later.

Riley is at work already, which I’m used to. I turn on the news to keep me company. Then I check on emails, but I don’t have any. My mom always texts me and I text her back, she’s the only family I have now. My dad died when I was young and I’m an only child. She’s an insurance rep back home in Iowa City and I see her on all the important holidays.

I sit with my coffee and a cooking show, the news is too heavy for me, and then I go over notes for the class I have to teach. I don’t want to make them read too much since I hated reading, mostly writing activities and such will be what we do all semester. It goes very fast, since it’s over the summer and only twelve weeks.

But I can only waste so much time before Riley comes back and we get ready to go. I don’t even know how to dress for these things anymore, I end up in jeans and a blue crop top that isn’t too high on the stomach or low on my neck. My long brown hair gets curled up in loose waves, my makeup minimal but still different than the regular day.

“Oh, you look hot. I had no idea you could do this.” Riley whistles and puts me on her Snap.

“Thanks. You too.” I gesture to her tight dress and heels. I stuck with my fancy canvas shoes. Comfort over style has always been my motto.

We leave and decide to take her car, a relatively new sedan. I almost hope she was just thinking about the wrong bar, but she wasn’t.

It is the same exact bar and there are even more bikes than last time. We might be the only people in a car.

“Riley, I need your help with something.” I tell her on the way in. I think I need a wing woman for this situation.

“What’s up?”

“I saw this guy yesterday. He was looking at me. If I see him again, I need you to keep me from talking to him.”

She gives me a funny look. We walk into the loud music and crowd and I have to shout to get her to hear me.

“He was one of the biker dudes, I think.”

“What did he look like?” she tugs me with her to the bar so we can get drinks.

“Brown hair. Tall. Muscles.” I tell her. it’s the only description I got.

“So why would it be bad to see him again?” she shouts.

I get knocked into by a guy and he apologizes before moving. He ends up buying our drinks for us.

“I don’t know. I’ll figure it out if I see him again.” I sip at my drink, too heavy on the vodka and not enough mixer.

“Let’s dance.”

I don’t even have time to protest before I am dragged along with her. I sway to the beat with her and find out I’m actually having fun. It’s been a while.

I get two songs in before that familiar pressure on my neck comes back from yesterday. This time I don’t just let it go until it goes away, I go in search of it. I turn and my hair flips back until I meet two eyes from across the bar. He isn’t standing alone but he is the only one I see.

His eyes are darker than I thought, his hair thick and brown, flipped off to one side and windblown, probably from riding on his bike. He has on a white shirt under a leather jacket that looks worn but somehow still new, stretched over his wide shoulders and broad frame. His shoulders taper down to a narrow waist and dark jeans, the buckle glinting under the roaming lights. Who ever he is with gets his attention and his eyes leave mine.

When they do, I realize I had been sweltering under his gaze.

“Isabelle, come on!” Riley tugs me back with her.

She finds a quiet spot at the end of the bar. “Was that him?” her green eyes bug out of her head.

“Yeah…” I nod. I set my drink down. The vodka was definitely way too heavy because I already feel drifty.

“That’s Jaxson.”

I raise my brows, should I know what that means?

“He’s the fucking president. Of the club.”

“How do you know this?”

“I’ve lived here for a long time. Everyone around here knows them. Him and his brothers. He’s fucking gorgeous. You should go for it.” She grips my shoulders and just about shakes me senseless.

“No, thanks.”

She is just about to say something but she looks past me and her eyes widen for a moment before she smiles wide at me.

“Bathroom break!” She shrieks, and then she is just gone in the crowd. I make a face but she’s too far gone to go after her.

I shrug and think about getting another drink, but decide I’ve probably already had enough.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

I shiver at the deep voice in my ear. With a sharp rasp to it, an underlying tone of hardness. Darkness. The shiver continues down my spine and arms until I turn to find the source.

Familiar dark eyes stare me down, but close up I see they are a beautiful brown—but I guess on him, a deep brown. His jawline is even sharper this close, the square of his face and length of his neck. Thick, but not too stocky. And his smell… I inhale sharply and it just about knocks me over. As strong and intense as I dreamt. Sharp cologne with soft smells of the wind and trees.

“S-sure.” I nod. He probably didn’t even hear me over the music.

He nods his head back at the bartender and in seconds he comes back with two cocktails.

“Thank you.” I sip gingerly. I’m not sure why my fingers are sweating or I’m trembling on the inside. It’s just a man, I can talk to men. But this one isn’t just any man.

“I’m Jaxson.” His hand comes across between us. I take it, but it isn’t just a shake. He grips my hand, hard.

“Isabelle.” I swallow hard. I have to shout over the music but it comes out regular to my ears.

“You were here yesterday.” He says, after he releases my hand, and it’s not a question.

“Yeah.” I blink up at him. Way up.

He has a good foot on me, and he towers down over me to look back at me.

“You’re new around these parts.” He phrases again, but not as a question. I’m not sure why he does that. If he’s sure of the idea why ask in the first place. His accent makes him nice to listen to anyway. It’s not anything special, but I can tell that it’s midwestern.

“Yeah, I just got here last month.” I take another sip of the drink. It pretty much is liquid courage for me.

He isn’t just any other man and that’s why my chest in my throat. He’s more than hot, he’s sexy and mysterious. He exudes confidence. More so than I ever could. Yet he is right here talking to me, when there are plenty of other women in this bar. Hotter than me, for sure. Tall and confident with tight clothes. Or maybe he’s just already made his way through them and I’m new to the market.

Jaxson… men as hot as him must have body counts out the door.

“I thought so. You ever been here before?” he sips at his drink and he does even that in a sexy way too.

“No. Not until yesterday. My car broke down and I needed a place to wait.” I realize I am rambling but there is nothing I can do about it now. That’s what alcohol does to me. I ramble.

“Our mechanic is a lot nicer than that crook. I bet he charged you way too much for it.”

“Yeah, probably.” I laugh once.

Jaxson steps closer to me and my instinct is to pull away but instead I move closer too. I smell his cologne even more and the alcohol on our breaths. His hand slinks around my waist the same time his fingertips brush mine, and he has long discarded his drink on the counter. I stop mine from slipping through my fingers and set mine down too.

The zap of his skin on mine about sets me aflame, makes my head spin. He reaches down closer until his lips brush against my ear and the heat of his breath runs down my neck.

“You shouldn’t come around here anymore.”

I furrow my brows, thinking I heard him wrong. I pull back, staring at the profile of his face until he turns and his eyes meet mine.

“What?” I widen my eyes. I thought he would say something else. Say something about how he wants to fuck me, or knows that I want to fuck him. The way his fingers are laced with mine and his hand is cinching my waist… that’s not what I expected him to say. It stings.

The harshness in his voice runs deep, makes me think he really means it.

His bare fingers are on the skin of my back peeking out of my crop shirt, I feel the moisture on my back slide under his fingers. The heat in the room encasing us. I feel it radiating off him, yet he wants me to leave?

“People like you… this place is no good for you.” He adds. His face is stern and I know he means it. I see the harshness in his eyes and find it hard to still look away.

“Fuck you. I can go anywhere I want to.” I pull away from him but he only grips my fingers tighter. Why is he telling me to leave yet holding me close?

“Don’t take it the wrong way. I just don’t want you getting hurt.” He barely straightens out the scowl on his face.

“There are other women in here. Who do you think you are?” I harden my voice. I’m pissed that he thinks he can boss me around. Pissed that he thinks he can tell me what to do, where to go.

“I know you already. You aren’t like these other women. They want the danger. You don’t need that.”

“So you think you’re dangerous, is that it? You came to talk to me. You were staring at me.” I spit. He only shakes his head at me and that’s it.

“You should go.” He frowns.

This time he does let my fingers go, and I am still frozen in place. His scowl only deepens, his jaw hardening as he swallows and stares me down. My chest heaves with the anger in my breath but he doesn’t move a muscle.

He wants to watch me go.

I wonder why I even care. Why it matters. Why I’m still standing here.

And why he even has any control over me as I turn off and decide to leave.

3

Jaxson

I can’t watch her walk away. If I do, I’ll just run and grab her, have her come back. When I finish racking my brain trying to explain it, I walk away before I even see her turn around, hoping she took my word and left.

Maybe I could have been nicer about it, maybe I should have just left it alone to begin with. But my conscience and the part of me that can’t be held back, didn’t know how else to make myself feel better. I know what kind of women come in here, what kind of women are fit to become old ladies and can live this kind of life. She isn’t one of them.

Her kind brown eyes should stay kind. Her sweet and innocent aura should stay innocent. This kind of life hardens people. Even Dad said, that as warm and loving Mom is now, it used to be even more when they first met. I almost can’t believe it, but I don’t want to watch it happen either. I know that if it isn’t me, it might be someone else out there. But I saw how she looked back at me.

I saw how she lost herself in my eyes, even if for only a moment. When I touched her, and her pliable body reacted to mine so easily. I still feel her softness, can still smell her lilac scent and replay her biting her bottom lip. I don’t even know what it is about her. She is very pretty, but I’ve seen prettier women. I haven’t heard more than a hundred words from her. I don’t know anything about her.

I know that I want to, and I know that I can’t.

“Prospect,” I deepen my voice, adding a strain to it that I only use when I have to be in a place of authority.

He turns around, wearing a leather jacket without our cut. He’s young but I don’t know his exact age, sometimes he says stuff and I think he is older than me. Blond hair and blue eyes give him this beach look, but he knows how to ride a motorcycle. As a career, he’s a city planner. So I can’t imagine why he would want to do this. I haven’t really asked.

“Yeah.” He answers, piking up. I nod for him to follow me and he puts his drink down immediately.

I find the other one by a table in the back. Talking to a group of ladies, and I immediately know why he wants to do this. He’s never had a real job, I know that for sure. At first he worked the bar here but he wasn’t very good at it, kept flirting and giving free drinks away. Between the two of them, I would rather keep the city planner, so I am. Matthew is taking care of the other three, narrowing it down to two. That way we can keep their fees around for a bit longer before we really have to worry about the costs adding up.

Dad never did too much of the ‘criminal’ side of the club. Others had their gun runs or drugs, even tax evasion or credit card fraud. We honestly held protection for some town businesses and got paid that way. But after Dad died, some decided they didn’t need us anymore or that we wouldn’t do the job well. Dad’s vice president when he was alive, Burns, started running guns third party. He had guys in on it, they never directly did it but would do more of an escort service, making sure it went smoothly. Then they outright ran them, just for the cash. I know guys that still do it, I just choose to ignore it.

I’m not ready to admit its why the lights are even still on in this place. And why no one else has left the club. Still, I want Burns out of here. He’s old fashioned and is seconds from starting an anarchy in here. Matthew can be my VP. It was hard enough getting president after Dad passed, luckily I have the guys in my corner. There are thirty of us, give or take a few ten at a time.

Some live here, others in the big city and come down for meet ups. Prospects come in and out of everywhere.

“We thought you’d be a good fit for the club. But there’s a bit longer to go. You know, the usual prospect time.” I circle around the wooden table.

My first prospect, I call him Kev, stares at me with a blank look. Like he doesn’t get what I’m saying. I sigh under my breath and stare at the cracked door where the other prospect, Al, waits.

“Yeah.” Kev finally says.

“Okay. Good.” I adjust my jacket on my shoulders, I’ve never figured out why I’m so awkward when I talk to people. Especially in the club, because I know I have to act like a president, or whatever—but I also don’t want the guys to think I’m unreasonable or a prick.

Everyone liked Dad. They would bend over backwards for him. I don’t really get that from them now, and I don’t know if I will.

“The other guy doesn’t know he’s out. So don’t say anything on the way out.”

For some reason, that makes him pike up more than he was before. He smirks and laughs once under his breath, “got it.”

He even has a skip to his step when he leaves that he didn’t have before. I’m just about to call the next guy in before I get a weird feeling. I should have known he wouldn’t keep his mouth shut, but there’s nothing I can do about it now. I just hope it doesn’t escalate too far. And at least this way, I don’t have to break the news to Al myself.

It takes me a minute to figure out what I want to do. If I had it my way, we’d have no prospects at all. But I know we need the money.

And I know the club needs to grow too. I’m not opposed to it, really. It’s just… a hard fucking time for me.

“Jax, we’ve got a problem out here.” Nix, one of my club guys, barges in the room with a flustered look. He’s a smaller guy, good for the numbers and shit. He’s the one that always tells me when we’re about to run out of money. And he has been for a while now.

“What the fuck?” I make my way out, and he semi explains on the way, but it was the two prospects. Well now neither of them are prospects, for tearing up my bar.

I figure I’m too old to tear apart fights at the bar, I get my biggest guys to do it.

I walk out to Al and Kev by the bar, I can tell who threw the first punch, Kev is laid out and Al is still going at him. It looks like an ordinary fight of wills before I notice a familiar head of hair by the bar. I’m pissed about the fight and then more pissed that Isabelle didn’t fucking leave like I told her to.

“Hey!” I take my anger out on Al, grab him by the hard shoulder and land one punch on his jaw that lays him out on the ground.

“Get the fuck out of my bar and never come back.” I snap. I nod at my guys and they haul them off the ground and out of the bar.

Once they do, it clears the space and gives me a clear view of Isabell. Shaken up doesn’t even explain it well. The way her shoulders rise up into her neck, her cheeks flushed and not the way they were when we were talking earlier. I see her chewing the hell out of her bottom lip, her chest rising and falling with her rapid breath. And in a few seconds, her fleeting eyes meet mine. I feel them soften as I look at her, but I have no doubt I look as angry as I feel.

I don’t even know when I made the decision, before I am crossing the now empty floor and making my way to her.

“Let’s go.” I grab her by her slender wrist, and she doesn’t resist as I pull her off into the distance and out of the bar.

We step into the bite of the night air. I release her, and spin around so I’m facing her.

She is still trying to catch her breath, a slight wheeze when she inhales almost makes me want to hold her instead of tell her to leave.

“I told you to leave.” I don’t intend for my voice to come out like a bark, but it does. She flinches and has started breathing a little easier now.

“I—you don’t get to tell me what to do.” She says. Her voice barely comes out as more than a whisper. She tried to make herself sound serious, and I know that. But it didn’t come out that way. She seems disappointed in that as she shrugs her shoulders.

Her arms come around herself, hugging herself from the cold.

“I told you it was dangerous. Now look what happened. You were inches away from a fist fight.” I step closer to her, millimeters away from her, feeling her breath fan across my neck as she exhales.

“Nothing happened.”

“Yet you’re shaking like a wet cat on the beach.” I retort. She has nothing to say back to that. I appreciate it.

She seems like she always has something to say and I don’t have any patience for it.

“I told you this wasn’t the place for you. Don’t come around here anymore.”

“You can’t—”

“Did you come here alone? Do you have a ride back home?” I can’t carry on this conversation any longer. Pretend like I don’t blindly care about her. Pretend like I’m not lost in her gorgeous brown eyes right now.

They’re like chestnuts. Or globes of something pretty I’ve never even seen before, because I can’t even describe it.

Nothing about her is anything I’ve ever seen before.

“I came with a friend.” She crosses her arms, brushing against my chest in the process. I ignore the tightness in my chest that I get from it, and the glistening in her eyes, too.

“Good. Tell her to come outside.”

She frowns, her brow turning down and the corner of her lips tightening. I can tell she is trying her hardest to hold a glare at me, but instead she fumbles for her phone in her purse. I assume she sends a quick text to her.

I wait in the pressing silence, still breathing the same air as her until I hear the door swish open.

“Tonight could have been a lot worse. Just remember that.” I don’t even see her friend. I just make sure the look in her eyes is as serious as it should be, and that she heard me; before I turn on my heel and get the hell away from her as fast as I can.

4

Isabelle

I hate how I cry out of frustration, because this is in no way making me sad. I wish he hadn’t done that. And I wish I didn’t care, or that I ever even met him.

“Who the hell was that?” Riley asks me.

I force myself to turn and look at her, crawling out the confusion that was in my head from before. I feel trapped, recalling the fight over and over.

One minute, I was by the bar, and staring after Jaxson after he so rudely told me to get out. The next minute, some dude is bragging about being ‘picked’ and another is pissed about it.

Whatever that means.

They start throwing punches right in front of me and I’m just frozen on the spot. It wasn’t even from watching the fight. I had just literally never seen one in person before, and I never planned on it.

Plus, it kind of made Jaxson right. About the club being dangerous. But jeez, he didn’t have to be so mean about it.

“Let’s go.”

“What about—”

“Nothing. Can we just go, please?”

She doesn’t ask any more questions. Only gives me a sad confused look before we head to the car and leave. I stare at the bar and all the bikes, drifting off into the distance.

I still feel his hands on me. His breath in my ear. Everything about him that makes me crazy. His voice was so stern, his eyes matching the intensity of them. I have never heard a deeper, sexier, meaner voice in my life. But there he was. Pining me down with cold brown eyes and a smolder I don’t think I will ever forget.

I just keep imagining him saying I don’t belong there. Telling me to leave. Looking at me like he wanted me but then telling me to go.

“What happened? Please tell me.”

Riley pleads with me once we are back in the house.

“It was nothing. He got all… weird with me.” I take off my shoes and she follows me to the bedroom. I collapse on my bed and she follows suit.

“He told me to leave. That I shouldn’t come around anymore.”

“What the fuck. What an asshole.”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry I dragged you out.”

I smile at her. “That’s okay. I just want to go to sleep.”

She nods and rubs my hand. “Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Riley leaves and I’m alone. I change and shower before I head to bed, thinking it will be a nice escape from the shitty night that I had. But all I do is drift back to Jaxson. Back to the way he held me.

Back to dreaming about him again.

* * *

I wake up in an unsurprising cold sweat. Maybe from my heated dream, or the furnace being on too hot last night. I must have done it and forgotten because I was lonely. I do that alone.

Siting up in my bed, I toss the heavy red comforter off and swing out of bed, standing up to stretch out like I always do. It’s only then that I remember what happened at the club last night. I should not have even gone. It was my greatest mistake of the past few months, for sure.

Just so some sexy, intimidating biker dude could tell me that I don’t belong at the bar and that I should never come there again. Like he’s the fucking sheriff. I shake my head at the memory and falsely promise myself not to think of it again.

That only lasts through me doing my normal morning tasks and then he is on my mind as I pour cream in my coffee. Jaxson…whatever his last name is. Probably prick or pompous ass.

I make it through one hot cup, and am about to pour the second, before Riley comes waltzing in. She looks happy as ever in her work clothes, which is just jeans and a decent tee shirt. With her hair up in a respectably messy bun.

“Morning.” She says, chipper as I imagined.

“Hey.”

“Sheesh, we didn’t drink that much.”

I smirk a bit, I hadn’t realized my voice sounded so groggy. In fact, I sound like a chain smoker. Maybe it’s the alcohol or lack of sleep.

“I know.” I sit at the high counter with my second cup of coffee. I need at least two. I often talk about weaning myself off it but that never happens or works.

“So are you ready to tell me what that guy wanted last night?” she giggles to herself, pouring herself tea for the morning. She’s one of those people.

“He was no one.”

“Okay, Jaxson Kinsmen isn’t no one.”

“Oh is that his name?” I roll my eyes.

She only laughs in response.

“What happened? I thought I left you with a nice hot guy to take home. I left to have my fun and then I come back to a bar that’s been ransacked and Jaxson looming over you like a silent protector.”

“He’s no protector, he’s an asshole…and where the hell did you manage to hook up with someone?” I make a face at her, that she only returns with a giggle.

“There are rooms in the back or something. It was just some guy I may or may not have lunch with today. He was hot though. They all are.”

“Yeah well, Jaxson was a prick.”

“What did he do? Tell me in literally three minutes because I have to go.”

She stands and gives me a sweet, begging smile, and I do my best to tell her everything. Minus the part about how I think he’s the hottest man I’ve ever seen, and dreamt about riding on the back of his bike.

Riley leaves for work and I finish my coffee. I tell myself I am tidying up but I am just avoiding the rest of Sunday. The part where I have to review my notes and mentally prepare myself for class and teaching. The education track isn’t the easiest, so I got to avoid that and focus on my classes, with little training to be able to teach basic courses.

In my daily wallowing, I realize I have never even finished a play before, yet I am in a program for an MFA in it. Of course I am working on one, and have to graduate with it, but it may not even be the one I champion or want to be adapted to screen. I also don’t want it to just be my thesis, a requirement for graduation.

Last night was supposed to clear my head and let me have one last bit of fun before the new semester started. All it did was stress me out and have me thinking of Jaxson. I could tell myself he really was just being protective, or maybe even liked me, and that was his way of showing it—but I could never be that vein. I’m not the prettiest girl in the room at any point, I’m not the thinnest, just not the overall best choice. So there is no way I drove him that out of his mind.

Halfway through my relaxing day on the couch, I realize I can’t avoid Monday any longer. But in all that time I realize I haven’t gotten any basic supplies like pens or paper or pencils. What a good teacher I’ll be.

It’s my first semester, so maybe I’m just being overdramatic, but I’m off the couch in seconds and dressed to go to the store. I don’t know anyone here, so it doesn’t matter that I’m dressed in faded jeans and a gray wool sweater coming apart at the ends.

The drive is fast, everything is close in this small town. I’d rather live here than in the city though. It’s quiet. Aside from asshole bikers. Jeez I have got to stop thinking about Jaxson…I even roll my eyes at myself as I drive.

I find a good park right by the door, skip inside a little too. I’m excited about the semester starting. It’s something to do. And someone will finally teach me how to really write a play. I taught myself, had fun adding lines in high school plays but never acted. And now I’ll get to be in workshop, learning from other writers like me too.

“Hello, can I help you find anything?” the store associate, who looks like a high school girl, smiles at me warmly. Everyone is surprisingly nice here, or maybe I’m giving her too much credit. It is her job after all.

“No, thanks.” I smile back.

My sneakers squeak across the linoleum and I find my way to the school supplies section. I see a mom with her kids, one boy and a girl about a year apart and no older than five. It’s cute, really. I crouch down to look at the notebooks when I hear their voices slowly die down.

I don’t even look up to see, but I hear the mom hush them and then the patter of their feet. After that, heavy footsteps and a cloud of familiar hardness dashing over me, and I have no choice but to look up and follow it from the ground up.

Black combat boots and dark jeans that fit the thighs in the right places and—other areas, up to a tight gray flannel shirt and black leather jacket over it. Then a sculpted, hardened face; full pink lips pursed in permanent irritation, and brown eyes that should otherwise be kind but are very, very mean.

“Isabelle.”

I literally gulp, in surprise and a little bit of fear, but not in that way, before I drop the notebook and I stand up. He is still incredibly tall, handsome, and smells oh so divine.

“Jaxson.” My fingers feel slick with sweat already, under my sweater I feel drenched and overheated. Just from him looking at me.

“Are you here to tell me I don’t belong in grocery stores either?” I clear my throat, telling myself he is just a man and that I shouldn’t be afraid to talk to him.

“No.”

I think I almost see him smile until he furrows his brow and seems to survey his surroundings.

“Are you in high school?” he seems to scoff at his question under his breath, like he can’t believe it.

I laugh once and his eyes dart to mine quickly, looking me over from head to toe. And he does that twitch with his lips that makes me think he might smile.

“No. Grad school.” I softly explain.

“How old are you?” He asks, his voice is so gruff, I almost want to ask him why he is so angry.

“That’s none of your business.” I let out an incredulous laugh.

“Fair enough.” He clears his throat and stuffs his hands in his jean pockets, as if there is even any space.

“Is that what you came up to ask me?” I distract myself by grabbing two notebooks and two packs of pens so I can busy myself by walking to the checkout. I’m surprised that he follows.

“No. I didn’t expect to see you, I came to get ointment.”

That makes me stop right in my tracks and I find his brows raising up as his cheeks even darken a bit.

“For my hand.” He pulls his left hand out of his pocket to show me what he is talking about.

His knuckles are barely bruised but the skin is peeling over his pinky a bit. I take his hand without thought looking to survey it and quickly release it once I realize I was just holding onto his hand.

“Hmm. Looks rough.” I turn and continue to the register. I always use self checkout but this time I go to a real teller.

For the protection, I suppose.

“I wanted to apologize.” He forces it out like he isn’t used to saying it. And I don’t think he is, either.

“For what?” I wait patiently as the young cashier rings my items. I snagged candy bars on the way, not at all embarrassed by eating candy alone and having witnesses.

“I was rude. I shouldn’t have been. Even though I was right.”

I ignore looking at him, rolling my eyes at him too. He is inches away from me and yet I feel like he is on top of me.

Suffocating me with his intensity and aura. I wonder who the hell Jaxson is and why he has such an effect on me.

“What an apology.” I pay my total and snag my one bag, heading out the door.

“Well, it is one.”

“So I should just accept it and move on?”

“I mean it, Isabelle. No need to hold a grudge or whatever.”

I ignore him, not only is he an asshole, but he’s an arrogant asshole. I reach my car and wish I had diverted him or not gone to my car. But I don’t think he’s a creep or a serial killer, it doesn’t come off that way at all.

“I’m not. Thank you, for your version of an apology. But it doesn’t really matter to me. I don’t know you, you don’t know me.” I turn around and face him, mustering up every ounce of courage I have ever had. “You said you don’t want me around, I’m not around. You’re coincidentally in the same place I am and I can’t help that. But you were very adamant about never speaking to me again, so what changed that?”

Jaxson stares down at me, barely missing a beat, unlike my breath. I figure he doesn’t even plan on answering me, and so I load my bag in the car and move to follow it inside. I’m pissed, even more than that. I’m frustrated yet again and hate how I feel tears pricking my eyes.

Jaxson doesn’t mean anything to me, he doesn’t matter. He shouldn’t, at least. I just met him and it was barely a meeting. Despite naturally lacing his fingers with mine and holding my waist, brushing his lips against my ear—I have no idea who he is.

He could be a criminal biker dude. He could be on the run. He could be the opposite, I don’t know.

All I know is that I have dreamt about him and that’s weird. It’s more than weird. And that I have experienced more confusion with him than with my last boyfriend. How can he tell me not to come around and that I don’t belong anywhere near him and then confidently approach me in a convenience store? It doesn’t make sense.

“I shouldn’t have said that to you before. I was just worried. Seeing you there at the club.”

“There were other women at the club.” I say matter of factly, I’m blocked between my open door and him and he recognizes I have no way out until he pleases. He easily takes control of every situation and it isn’t fair.

“Yeah but not like you.”

“Like me?” I gape.

“Yes. Innocent. Clueless.”

“How many times will you insult me in twenty four hours?”

“I don’t mean—Jesus you just know how to twist my words?”

“It’s not twisting, you just called me clueless. Unless clueless means something different to you.”

“I mean that those other women come looking for trouble, wanting the danger. Expecting something to happen to them. That’s not you.”

I open my mouth to speak but I have no way of telling him he is right. That isn’t why I went, and it’s not what I want out of life at all.

“And I was right. Guys fight in the bar all the time, you could have gotten hurt.”

“Well I wasn’t. And I can take care of myself. Regardless.” I purse my lips up at him, and once again I could swear, he is about to smile.

“I know that. I just… didn’t want you to have to.”

“Why, you don’t know me?”

“I want to.” He snaps his eyes closed and exhales as if he didn’t mean to say that.

I raise my brow at him, waiting for an elaboration or something. When he opens his eyes again they are the softest I have ever seen them, he even relaxes his jaw a little. I have a feeling that rarely happens.

“I don’t meet women like you around here, Isabelle. It doesn’t—I don’t know what to do with it.”

“Well, you could mind your own business, that’s for one.” I cross my arms and he feigns a hurt voice.

“Hey, I’m trying to be nice here.”

“You should try harder.” I laugh a few times, he even chuckles a bit. I wish he hadn’t, he really has no business getting any hotter.

“I will. If you’ll let me. Maybe we can start over.”

“So instead of meeting in a motorcycle club we’ve met in a grocery store?”

“Seems like as good a start as any. My parents met in a pub.”

That makes me smile, because the mention of his parents make him seem more human. Like a regular man and not some handsome god with boundary issues. And control problems.

I take a deep breath and go against my conscience, despite whatever the consequences may be.

“Okay… fine.”

5

Jaxson

“You’re pissed.”

“I am more than pissed.”

Zeke only laughs at that, as if it is funny. I suppose it is, in hindsight. Or maybe I will find it funny tomorrow, when I am no longer in the middle of this situation. Bar room brawls are not what this club is about.

“You should be glad.” Matthew says some stupid shit. Behind the bar, he is smiling wide as can be, leaning his hands on either side of the bar as he laughs at my expression.

“Excuse me?” I grab broken glass from the ground and stick it in the sharps bucket.

“I mean, better they did it now then before they joined the club. Before I figured out they were air heads.” He shrugs. He has the other prospects, which seemed to be doing fine.

“Yeah. I guess. I’m just not one for picking up glass and—” I stop myself before I give too much away. About Isabelle, specifically.

I can’t get the look in her eyes out of my head, frozen on the spot to two guys acting like animals. And then with me, being told to leave. I probably could have done it in a better way, but I was bothered enough by her just being here. By her being in any sort of danger, in the wrong place for her; and I still have no idea why.

“And?” Matthew prompts me. I ignore him and continue with the glass on the floor. They must have broken at least five cups. Not like we have the best cups in the universe, but still.

“Nothing.” I cut him off.

He laughs because he knows he is getting to me.

No way will I tell them about Isabelle now. They will just convince me to give in to my urges, and I’ll listen. And I know what they are. To have her right here in this club, bent over the table—any table, in one of the back rooms even though it’s for all the hook ups the guys have, and I swore I would never use it.

“Some girl, probably.” Zeke snickers his annoying chuckle of a laugh. I look over and glare at him, he always had a boyish look that made it hard to stay mad at him. I’m not that much older than him, but he will always look young to me. Like a kid. I about shit myself the first time he got on a real bike, Mom said I was just officially a big brother. He has lighter hair out of all of us, always wears it messy under a baseball cap and made his cut into a vest. He is most definitely still a kid at heart though, knows how to get me to loosen up.

“Shut up.” I shake my head almost immediately. I shouldn’t have said anything at all.

“See, told ya.” Zeke lets out that irritating snicker again and even Matthew joins him.

I shake my head at them both and flip them off before I go to grab the broom. I get the last of the glass off the ground before I return to the main room. They’ve put the chairs back up where they should go. The place looks like nothing even happened. It wasn’t the first fight to be in this place and I know it won’t be the last.

“So, who is she?” Zeke pops open two beers and coaxes me to the bar. We sit with Matthew while he is closing up, which just includes wiping everything down and plugging the liquor bottles.

“There is no she.” I mutter, then take a sip of my beer. Zeke doesn’t buy it though, and I knew he wouldn’t.

“Come on, I wouldn’t tell a soul. Not even Mom.”

He laughs, and I look at him from the corner of my eye. That would be the most important thing, actually. If she keeps telling to find an old lady, I might shoot myself in the foot. I know where she is coming from, wanting someone to take care of me or whatever. But that’s not all they’re for, and she is very old fashioned.

“I don’t know her. I saw her in here yesterday and then again tonight. I told her to leave.”

“What?” Matthew says with a laugh. He stops what he is doing, throwing the blue towel over his shoulder, and leaning on the bar in front of us with both hands.

“I second that.” Zeke burps obnoxiously. I again roll my eyes at them and take a swig of my beer. It isn’t even my favorite.

“I… this place is no good for a girl like her. She seemed nice and sweet.”

“Maybe that’s her cover. Besides, you can’t just tell a woman what to do.” Matthew laughs in a way that says ‘even I know that’ and shakes his head at me.

“I know that, it’s not like I—she was. And I’ve never seen her around anywhere before. She’s new to town. And this isn’t the place to get acquainted with the locals.” I spin my beer in my fingers and avoid their gazes as my brows tighten up. I swallow back the acid from the beer and think things over in my head.

I know I was wrong. And I probably hurt her feelings, too. But I don’t plan on ever seeing her again. I think I got my point across to her.

“Whatever dude. That was still pretty shitty. And even I know that.” Zeke smirks at me. I look over at him and lose whatever irritation I had, it’s just the way he is. He’s never been in a relationship before, not a real one at least, and not lasting more than a month or so. It’s not even that he is a womanizer, he just knows how to have fun and that usually involves women for him.

“I get that. But… I don’t know. She wasn’t like the women that come in and out of here, I could tell.”

“Well you never know, she could have been your old lady.”

I frown at Matthew. He brazens his hands and gets back to cleaning down the bar.

“I second that.” Zeke chuckles.

“Alright, I get it.”

I finish my beer and then set off to close up the place. I shut all the lights off, except the ones out back. I end up stopping in the back office, the one Dad used to use. No one has been in there regularly since he passed, none of my brothers either. But something comes over me and I walk inside.

The draft hits me first, and it still smells like his old cologne and occasional cigar. Mom tried to get him to stop smoking them. It didn’t work, this must be where he went to do it.

It’s a small space. It opens up to the wooden desk and office chair he probably hadn’t replaced since he opened up the club here. Our cut is displayed above the desk, plastered on the wall, a bookshelf comes up around it with books no one has probably read in years. The far left wall has motorcycle parts on the ground, and the other side has a huge wall of family and club pictures. Some of them are even from back in Ireland. We have only been to the original club once because we hate flying. But there are only two of us, we don’t have a national charter or anything or a higher power telling us what to do. It’s why when we’re strapped for money and resources, there really is nothing we can do. Like right now.

My eyes settle on a picture of Dad with all of us, he seemed healthy at that time, I know it was a few months before he died. I don’t know if it was some sort of stress he didn’t tell any of us about, or if he was sick… but one day he was here and the next he was gone. I wish we had time to prepare. And that Mom didn’t have to deal with it. I promised him I would keep this place going, make it stronger than ever.

It’s only recently, that I’ve wondered if I actually can.

* * *

As soon as I wake up, with a pounding headache, I rummage through my disappointing kitchen only to find I have nothing besides beer and two frozen dinners. I could say I live a simple life, or that I just don’t shop. My Mom would be pissed if she saw this place right now.

I take a piss and shower, dress in jeans, flannel, and my cut. I woke up in the middle of the day but I’ll just ignore that fact.

The roads are open, the weather exactly how it should be on a Sunday. I live right outside of town, for a bit of seperation from the club when I need it. So I have to actually go into town, for the convenience store. By the time I arrive, my headache is gone anyway and I would have taken my truck if I stopped for groceries.

So it’s like I am just killing time until I spot a familiar mane of brown hair from across the store. I try to ignore the mother and her kids skipping as fast as they can away from me. I barely even look like a biker, compared to the other guys. It must be the heavy combat boots and recognizable leather jacket.

I’m more than nervous, to talk to her. But I feel like I have to.

“Isabelle.” I walk up to her.

I try my hardest not to let my eyes settle on her pert ass as she is bent over. She rises slowly, looking at me with caution. I feel a sigh of relief escape through my nose at the look of her brown eyes, seeing them up close and in person again. I was settled on never seeing them again.

“Jaxson.” Her voice is softer than I remember, or maybe quieter when the only background noise is the beep of the cashier and scratch of shopping carts in the distance. It even smells like a grocery store, but her soft, floral scent overtakes it.

“Are you here to tell me I don’t belong in grocery stores either?” she clears her throat and I can tell she is nervous. It’s… cute. That’s the word. It’s the perfect way to describe her.

I keep my voice low and even. “No.” I fight the smile curling at my lips, I haven’t smiled in a long time, or genuinely wanted to unless I was at a family dinner.

“Are you in high school?” the thought comes fast when I notice she is in a school supply section and looking at bright colored notebooks.

“No. Grad school.” She replies, with a soft voice.

“How old are you?” I ask, and my voice comes out rougher than I wanted it to. I almost sound angry, but the thought came quickly too. I’m a fresh twenty-eight, but she looks so young, I wouldn’t be surprised if she said she was twenty.

“That’s none of your business.” Her laugh is more uncomfortable than anything else.

“Fair enough.” I clear my throat and stuff my hands in my jean pocket, to keep from touching her. And to somehow hide the way my dick twitches at the sight of her. Those full pink lips she has, her soft skin…Jesus.

“Is that what you came up to ask me?” She huffs out a breath, then grabs a pink and green notebook I fight hard not to.

“No. I didn’t expect to see you, I came to get ointment.” It comes out wrong, before I think about it yet again. It sounded better than saying I need Aleve or some shit. Makes me sound old.

I can tell she is also shocked about what I said by the way she stops and turns around, gives me a good ‘what the fuck’ kind of look.

“For my hand.” I slowly respond, I even show her.

That one knock out tore up my skin, I didn’t know his jaw would have so much kick back. Plus it was a sloppy punch, almost like my first.

The way my body reacts, though, when she grabs me, is another thing I didn’t expect at all. Her soft fingers are the world’s greatest contrast to my rough and calloused ones. From gripping the bike and occasionally working in the garage. I watch her subconsciously bite her bottom lip before her eyes dart to mine and she quickly pulls her hand from mine. I fight every urge to grab on tight and not let her go. When she touches me… fuck.

“Hmm. Looks rough.” She says nonchalant, like she doesn’t care. She was headed to the self check out but I know she went to a register because I’m here. I get it. I’m a stranger. But I always thought I gave off okay vibes, nothing pervy or anything.

“I wanted to apologize.” It kind of rolls out of me before I think. The cashier gives me a funny look, but I ignore her. I know she knows who I am, too, and debates telling Isabell.

“For what?” Isabelle glances at me once, and goes back to watching her items be scanned. As if they’ll run away or something.

“I was rude. I shouldn’t have been. Even though I was right.” I kind of kick myself in the ass for that last part, but it’s true.

I know she rolls her eyes and tries to hide it.

I step closer to her, enough to inhale her scent again and to see the round softness of her face and cheek. Her nose is small and upturned, I now know it scrunches up when she is irritated. She doesn’t wear make up, at least I don’t think, and she has cute little freckles on the side of her cheek. I try to stop myself from memorizing her and etching her face to my memory, but it’s hard to.

“What an apology.” She laces her voice with as much sarcasm as possible and gabs her one bag. I follow after her, knowing how it may look.

“Well, it is one.”

“So I should just accept it and move on?”

“I mean it, Isabelle. No need to hold a grudge or whatever.” I start to get irritated. I mean, it is an apology after all, I don’t know what much else she wants. I don’t get women, and I’ve never had to beyond a high school sweetheart that went off to become a big time lawyer and small town girls who only want to fuck me because I’m in the club. So this is… new.

Isabelle stops at the door of her car, and makes a weird pause like she didn’t want to go there.

“I’m not. Thank you, for your version of an apology. But it doesn’t really matter to me. I don’t know you, you don’t know me.” She turns around to face me, her nose doing that scrunched up thing again. I fight the urge to tap my finger on it, pull her close and kiss her. “You said you don’t want me around, I’m not around. You’re coincidentally in the same place I am and I can’t help that. But you were very adamant about never speaking to me again, so what changed that?”

I stare down at her with what I know is a blank look. She only holds it for a moment before seeming to give up, and turning away from me.

“I shouldn’t have said that to you before. I was just worried. Seeing you there at the club.” I soften my voice, so she doesn’t think I am a complete asshole.

I don’t know why Isabelle has such an effect on me.

Why she even matters so much.

I have a natural inclination to her I have never felt before. Almost like riding my bike, on the open road. I’m standing in front of what is basically a complete stranger and I don’t even want to move.

“There were other women at the club.” She says with a matter of fact tone. I almost chuckle but don’t let it go through. I have her trapped between her open door and me, though, so she isn’t going anywhere.

“Yeah but not like you.” I explain. I know it isn’t much of an explanation but it is all I have at this moment.

How do I say none of them look innocent like her? That none of them are as beautiful and sweet? That none of them make me lose my fucking mind?

“Like me?” She says with an open breath, a scoff under her voice.

“Yes. Innocent. Clueless.” I wince at the last word, I keep saying shit I don’t mean to say. She isn’t a regular woman, I swear it.

“How many times will you insult me in twenty four hours?” Isabelle tries to mask the hurt in her voice but I hear it and it makes me wish I hadn’t said anything at all.

“I don’t mean—Jesus you just know how to twist my words?”

“It’s not twisting, you just called me clueless. Unless clueless means something different to you.”

“I mean that those other women come looking for trouble, wanting the danger. Expecting something to happen to them. That’s not you.”

She opens and closes her mouth quickly. Her eyes darting beyond me as she thinks. They focus back on me when I start talking.

“And I was right. Guys fight in the bar all the time, you could have gotten hurt.”

“Well I wasn’t. And I can take care of myself. Regardless.” She purses her lips up at me and for the hundredth time since I have seen her, I fight the urge to smile. Just crack into a stupid grin.

“I know that. I just… didn’t want you to have to.”

“Why, you don’t know me?”

“I want to.” I press my eyes closed as soon as that comes out because I wish I wouldn’t have said that out loud. I can’t take it back.

But I’ve decided to stop ignoring her. It just won’t work and it will make things worse in the long run.

I feel my jaw tightening as I think and open my eyes slowly. I haven’t felt them that relaxed in a while, I can tell, and I let the pressure at the edge of my jaw go.

“I don’t meet women like you around here, Isabelle. It doesn’t—I don’t know what to do with it.” I feel my voice shake and clear my throat silently. I think this is the most honest I have ever been with a woman.

“Well, you could mind your own business, that’s for one.” She crosses her arms and rolls her big brown eyes at me.

“Hey, I’m trying to be nice here.” I add as much humor to my voice as possible but it just comes out hurt.

“You should try harder.” She lets out one or two laughs and it’s the one thing that makes me chuckle, just a bit under my breath. But I feel her notice it.

“I will. If you’ll let me. Maybe we can start over.”

“So instead of meeting in a motorcycle club we’ve met in a grocery store?”

“Seems like as good a start as any. My parents met in a pub.” She has me in the habit of saying things before thinking them through. But I don’t even regret it.

And it is how they met. Mom was travelling with her parents, who now don’t talk to her because she married a biker. I’ve never even met them.

Isabelle smiles and I am glad that I said it now too.

She takes a deep breath, my eyes fall down to the swell of her breasts in her sweater. It looks ratty and old as hell, but it looks beautiful on her.

“Okay… fine.”

I let myself grin at that, not so much her resolve, but the fact that I didn’t fuck things up completely.

“Uh, have you eaten?” I ask.

“What?” she makes a weird face at me and I scratch behind my ear in response.

“You know, food.”

“I—no.” She drops her shoulder, like she dropped some of her defenses too.

“Let me take you to dinner, then.” I clear my throat, even feel my heart flutter waiting for her response. I don’t flutter for anything, ever.

“Um…” she blinks up at me and licks over her bottom lip. That distraction drives me so mad I almost don’t hear her response.

“Jaxson?” she says my name so perfectly, I never want to hear anyone else say it but her.

“Yeah. Um. Let’s take my bike.” I nod over to where it’s parked.

“I don’t think so.” Isabelle widens her eyes and looks over at my bike like it’s a guillotine or something.

“It’s fine, I know a diner right down the road.”

She shakes her head and sighs.

“Don’t you trust me?” I ask her.

“Are you really asking me that?”

I shake my head at her.

“Yeah, I am.”

She sighs and steps closer, almost brushing her chest on mine. But she closes her car door behind her and the space widens.

“No, I don’t. But as long as you’re buying dinner.”

I nod and we set off for my bike, a considerable distance from each other. A family walks out of the store and she looks up at me, I glance at her and watch her slowly smile.

“You forgot your ointment.”

6

Isabelle

I raise my voice as loud as normally possible and I know they hear me. Jaxson frowns at me but it only makes me smile.

First of all, I can’t believe I am getting on a bike with a total stranger. An asshole arrogant stranger at that. But with everything, I could tell he doesn’t normally apologize to people and that was big of him. I think.

He is also very, very pretty.

“I have a helmet.” He opens the seat of the bike and all I see is a bunch of clutter.

I clutch my purse over my chest and patiently wait. I feel my knees shaking from how nervous I am. I feel my body relax, but it’s my head that is reacting to him. I feel oddly comfortable around him, and I don’t know why.

“Here.” He finally finds it

He turns towards me and straps it on for me, his thumb brushes against my chin and my skin prickles at the contact. For a short moment, his eyes catch with mine and I swallow from the intensity.

“Hold on tight.”

He jumps on and I follow suit, minus the jumping. He starts the engine up and looks back at me.

His profile is as sexy as his front, his angular nose and chiseled jaw make it so.

“You have to scoot closer than that, unless you want to fly right off.” He has to shout over the engine.

“Come on, I don’t bite. Unless you’re into that.”

I gasp, but I don’t think he meant for me to hear the last part. I had scooted closer like he said, before he noticed. My thighs come around his, my inner thighs hit his hips and align with his legs. I lace my arms around his waist, it’s as hard as I imagined from his abs to the muscles at his side. I feel him breathing against me, when I lay my chest against his my body thrums to life along with the engine.

The more we go on, the closer I get to him, the more my body molds naturally. He makes me feel soft against his hard body. I struggle to keep my hands in a respectable place, on his lower stomach. But the dirty, currently sex deprived part of me wonders what would happen if I just reached for his cock. We would probably wipe out. No dick is worth dying for.

He was right about the ride being short, I even wish it were longer.

Jaxson parks, then he helps me off the bike as my legs wobble a bit.

“It’s like a leg workout.” I rub at my sides.

His lips twitch with a smile and we start off for the door, “you get used to it.” He gruffs.

“Well you must have powerful thighs.” I bite my bottom lip and scowl as soon as I say it. I keep saying the wrong things to him.

All he does in response is do his odd half chuckle.

When we walk in, Jaxson greets like five different people. I think a lot of them know him here, because of the club. The host is happy to seat him quickly but it could just be because she thinks he is hot. I guess if I go out with him, I’ll have to deal with that.

“You’re pretty popular.”

We get seated in a nice booth. The place is old fashioned, the tables are old wood and the booths faded red. The table has old fashioned ketchup and mustard on it too. I don’t know why I notice that.

“Not really.” Jaxson looks at me from across the table. He doesn’t look uncomfortable, but he looks out of place almost.

His body is imposing, taking up half the booth. His knees brush mine from how tall he is, if I move the wrong way.

“People just know about the club.”

“What is that like?” I ask quickly.

But the server comes and Jaxson seems glad for the interruption. We get started with water and I pick at the peanuts.

“So?” I prompt him.

He gives me a funny look and stops himself from rolling his eyes.

“I don’t talk about it much.”

I can’t even hide my disappointment. Here I was thinking that he liked me or something, that I was maybe the first girl on the back of his bike or that he’s apologized to. I guess I was wrong.

I figure I’ll just make it through this awkward dinner and forget about it.

If that is even possible.

I mean it’s Jaxson I’m talking about.

It isn’t until after we order that he decides to break the awkward silence.

“Motorcycle clubs aren’t what they’re made out to be. Most of the time.”

I sip my water. “Okay.”

He sighs and rubs at the slight stubble growing on his jaw.

“My dad started Kinsmen. We’re one of the few clubs that are private. Meaning someone else can’t tell us what to do.”

“So there is only one?”

“Two. Here and in Ireland, where he’s from.”

“That explains a lot.” I murmur, not really expecting him to pay attention to it.

“What?” he chuckles once, it’s that sound that makes me submit, it seems. I can tell that he doesn’t laugh or smile much.

“Nothing. You’re just brutish. And rude.”

He shakes his head at me, a crooked smile marring his face. “Fair enough.”

“So… have you ever been to jail?” I feel like I meant to ask something else, but my filter seems to be gone around him.

“What? No.” he says with a full laugh.

“I was only asking because I thought people in motorcycle gangs were all criminals.”

“It’s a club, not a gang,” he leans forward, setting his forearms on the table, “and no, I have not been to jail. Well, for more than a night. And most of us haven’t. We aren’t criminals either, we don’t do illegal shit.” He thrums his fingers over the table, the long, slender extension of his hands distract me. He has the most vascularity I have ever seen on a man, I want to trace his veins with my tongue and I shudder at the thought. I think I want to do a lot of dirty things with him.

“Okay. Sorry.” I lean back in the booth. I suddenly feel very hungry and tired. I would just be eating a sad frozen dinner, it’s what sold me on this in the first place.

“I get it.” He shrugs and then guzzles down half his water. “Have you ever been to jail?”

“No.” I giggle. “I live a very boring, simple life.”

“In grad school?”

“Yes, that’s why I came here.”

He nods once, holding my gaze before he looks away.

I survey the restaurant, half of them are looking at us, or Jaxson. The other half are just regular people; home from work or on vacation. I don’t know. It’s a really small town. I have a feeling I’ll see people more than once in different places.

“I don’t know much about school, but do people your age still use pink notebooks?” he asks out of nowhere.

I feel my cheeks turn as red as possible. If I had been paying more attention, I wouldn’t have bought my favorite color in notebooks. Geez, I must seem like a little girl to him. No wonder he didn’t want me in the club.

“Um, no. I just… like the color. Besides, it was more like… never mind.”

He does chuckle fully at that and I feel the blush spread to my neck. With that, I feel his eyes follow it too.

I want nothing more than for more than his eyes to follow my blush, but I just met him. And he does seem like trouble. That I don’t have time for and that I didn’t come here for.

I shove my overreacting aside and decide to just get through this dinner with him, and probably not see him again.

7

Jaxson

I keep staring at her. Subtly, of course. But I haven’t decided whether or not she notices how my eyes keep drifting right to her. How my brain is imagining how far her blush goes and what it looks like. I really need to relax, and I know that, but I just can’t.

Isabelle is so fucking beautiful to me and I don’t know why. She has a cute little crooked tooth on her left side, even cuter freckles and she isn’t all that thin. I love the way her thighs stretched around mine on my bike, how her soft midsection hit the hard muscles of my back. I haven’t seen anyone around here with real impurities, real human features. At least, no woman in the club was like that. Isabelle is different and I know she is. I want to find out by how much more.

“Pink is okay. I think.” I roll back my shoulders and ignore how awkward that must have sounded to the food runner dropping off our food.

“I know.” Isabelle smirks. She has a pretty half smile that way. She eyes her plate of country fried steak and mashed potatoes like she hasn’t seen real food in months.

My own plate of steak and a baked potato probably isn’t that much better. But this place is arguably the nicest place around, unless you go into the downtown city.

“That steak looks subpar.” Isabelle says to me.

I frown at her in jest and she grins back, shaking her head once.

“You seem like a hard ass.” She murmurs with a mouth half full of food. I find myself intrigued by how she doesn’t hide her mouth with her fingers as she chews or pretends like she doesn’t eat like a regular person. I know it’s weird but most people do, women I mean.

“What?” I realize what she said and stop mid bite.

She giggles softly, “a hard ass. Like you never relax.”

“I relax.” I mutter.

She stops eating entirely and gives me a funny look.

“By doing what?” she asks, with an incredulous tone to imply that I never do.

I decide to make a little fun of it since she wants to be so mean.

“Fucking.” With a straight face, I stare back at her and watch her blink rapidly, see her cheeks flush even a little too.

“Oh.” She bites on her bottom lip and starts eating again, her fork clinks against the plate as she stabs her food too fast.

I want to tell her I’m only kidding but something tells me I shouldn’t.

That she almost liked the answer.

“What do you do?” I start eating again. I hadn’t realized how hungry I am, but I had a rough start to my day and last night was even worse.

“What, during sex?”

I nearly choke, “No.” I cough, “To relax.” I swirl the last of my food around in my mouth before I swallow and smile naturally. I knew she had this innocent and cute vibe to her, but I didn’t know it was this amusing.

“Oh. I read plays.” She says simple, as if that doesn’t imply a following question.

“I thought you watched plays.” I respond quickly. “That sounds pretty dumb, huh?”

She stops chewing and looks me in the eyes. “No, it doesn’t. And you can read them, kind of like a transcript, I guess.”

“Hm. That’s interesting. Is that what you’re in school for? To read plays.”

She releases the same soft giggle and I again think I was sounding stupid. It’s not like this is what I usually talk about. I talk about prospects, semi-illegal shit, and bikes.

“Sort of. To write them, produce them, edit them. Just playwriting in general.”

“Gotcha.”

I give up on asking anymore questions so I don’t look like a total dumbass who barely finished high school. That shit was never my thing. I finish my plate, damn near clean, and guzzle down the rest of my water. I wish I had something stronger. Like a fucking beer or something.

Isabelle looks comfortable as can be, or maybe she is just better at hiding it. I don’t think I have ever sat down to share a meal with a woman. Not a real one. I know it isn’t a date, she probably knows that too, but it feels like I want it to be one.

“How long have you been in your…club?” she has since finished her food and the waitress has come to clear our plates, asking if we wanted dessert.

“Since I was born.” I lean forward on the table again, my forearms crossed and inches from her fingers laced together.

“Is that possible?” she says with a laugh.

I nod once. “Yep. I was baptized on my Dad’s bike.” It’s not like I remember it or anything. But there are pictures. The Irish are very traditional, but I know for a fact my parents never went to a fucking church.

“That’s cool.”

“I’d like to think so.”

“Is it just you in the club?” she asks.

“No, my three brothers and I. And my dad was in it.”

“Oh… was?”

I nod once. It’s not like it’s overly hard to talk about my Dad after his passing. But it is not something I do very often. Not even with my brothers or my Mom. So I don’t know why it is more than easy to open up about him to Isabelle, a woman I just met and don’t know anything equal about.

“He died a little over a year ago. He started the club here in the states, but he’s from Ireland.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” She says sincerely as her eyes widen and regard me with concern.

I shake it off, because I’m not used to people looking at me like that. Actually, women looking at me like that who aren’t my mom.

“Were you two close?” she shakes her head once as if to herself and stutters over her words. “I’m sorry, you don’t have to answer that. It’s a little personal.” She swallows and her soft neck rolls as she does. I tear my eyes away as fast as I can, suddenly more interested in the ugly flooring design.

“We were. At least, I used to think so. Until he died and I realized most of what we talked about had to do with the club, starting from when I was fifteen or so. Before that, my mom tried to keep us out of the club as much as possible, besides learning how to ride a motorcycle before we learned how to drive. But he was a good dad, and that’s all that matters to me now.”

“That’s very insightful.” He fingers twitch as if she was about to reach out and touch me. I think she was but she stopped herself. I wish she hadn’t though. I have been itching to touch her all day.

“You say that like you’re surprised.”

“No, no I didn’t mean it that way.” She laughs once, “I meant it in a good way. And I’m sorry that you lost your father.”

“Thank you. That sounds like you’re speaking from experience.” I never took myself to be a very well aware person, but it kind of comes naturally with her.

“Sort of. It’s not as… I never really met my dad, so I guess it’s different.”

“Shit. Sorry.”

I never took her as a woman with a dead beat dad but I don’t think that kind of thing is very obvious either.

“It’s okay. It’s not like I was missing out on anything.”

I nod once. We have been sitting here for quite a while after dinner but I don’t make any attempts to move, and she doesn’t either.

“How many people are in the club, are there like any requirements?” she smiles to herself and I figure I’m not in on something. “Now I sound stupid.” She giggles once.

I smile back at her, her eyes widen at me and it makes me both smile more and want to stop. If she gets used to me smiling then I will be more inclined to do it just to see her smile back.

“You don’t. There are quite a few of us, thirty or forty maybe if they stick around. And I can’t say there are any requirements, every prospect was different. We accepted them for different reasons.”

Isabelle gives a crooked smile and nods once. “It kind of sounds like a frat or something. Next thing you’ll say is that it’s like a brotherhood.” She giggles.

“Well it is.”

“Oh fuck.” Her hand flies to her mouth and she shakes with her laughter. It makes me smile too, a real one.

“Minus my real brothers, I feel close with all the guys. We’d probably do anything for each other. And that includes going to jail for each other too.”

“So you do participate in some illegal shit.” She says slowly like she knew it all along.

I scratch at the back of my neck, my skin suddenly heating like I gave something away.

“That’s neither here nor there.” I chuckle under my breath.

“Hey I’m not one to judge. As long as you’re not the one going to jail or anything.” Her eyes go wide again like she spoke too soon and it’s hard not to laugh at her.

“Why, will you miss me?” I lean closer to her. Close enough to inhale her soft lilac scent again, perfect for her.

It’s one I know I’ll never forget.

“I didn’t say that.” She easily averts that. “What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done?” her eyes light up in the cutest way.

“Oh, is that why you’ve agreed to have dinner with me? For the thrill of it.”

“What? No I would never do that.” She says quickly, I reach out and grab her wrist to stop her rambling.

“I was joking.”

She calms down and I realize my skin is on hers, and it’s why I feel like I have been set on fire.

“I haven’t done much, honestly. There are guys in the club that do some shit on the side but we don’t take ownership for it. Some of us are criminals, I can’t lie to you. But I haven’t done anything official.”

“Official?”

I smirk softly. “I guess I’m saying I haven’t been arrested.” I chuckle once. She laughs back in response.

“You’re kind of a funny guy when you aren’t so uptight.”

“I’m not uptight, trust me. My brother Simon, that’s who is uptight.” I scoff under my breath.

“What are your brothers like?”

“Mostly the same as me, I guess. Except Zeke, he’s just a grown-up kid. I don’t know, I’ve never had to talk about them to other people before.” I realize aloud.

“Well, I’m an only child so I don’t know anything about that.”

“I’m really glad I’m not an only child. Sorry.” I grin.

“That’s okay. I get it. I’ve never known anything else.” she shrugs.

The sun has since gone down, but some of the light comes in and hits her brown hair in a way that makes it more than brown. Maybe a bunch of different colors that I don’t know enough about to describe. It makes her skin look more tanned than I thought, too. And not the artificial kind – it’s more like she just looks that way naturally.

“If you weren’t in the club what do you think you would be doing?” she asks me kind of out of nowhere, but I already kind of know the answer.

“I have no fucking clue. It’s all I have done, so I don’t think I want to do anything else.”

“That’s nice. It took me two majors and two colleges to figure mine out.”

“Shit. My life has always been simple, I’ll give myself that. Until now, at least.” I murmur the last part as I didn’t mean to say it out loud. But it’s too late because she already heard me.

“Why?” she asks, as if she doesn’t really want to know the answer.

It’s only then that I realized I never let her arm go, and so I do. It leaves me empty and I hate the feeling, because I don’t know what to do with it.

“Because of you.” I take a deep breath. “In the past twenty four hours I have kicked you out of my club, about lost my mind when I saw you so close to what could have been a dangerous fight, and then ran into you at a fucking grocery store and had dinner with you. For the first time in I think ever, sitting down to have dinner with a woman. And I don’t even know you. I just… know that I want to.” I let out the biggest exhale I’ve had beyond my memory and she just stares back at me blankly.

I know I’ll regret it but it’s the only thing I can do right now to keep my arrogance intact. I’m not ignorant, I know that I have it, and I know that I’m no good without it.

So when she hasn’t said anything in a few seconds I take it upon myself to remove myself from the situation. Yet another one that she’s put me in, that I feel like I have no control over.

“It’s getting late,” I stand up, “we should get out of here.”

8

Isabelle

I replay his words in my head and wish I knew what to say. It’s not like with my ex, we fell into a relationship because it made sense. But he never once said he was crazy about me, that he felt like he had to know me.

I feel like shit for not replying, even more so when Jaxson quickly stands and basically says he wants to leave. He slams the money on the counter and I follow him out.

The walk out to his bike is silent. He helps me put the helmet on again but doesn’t say anything, and avoids looking me in the eye. Jaxson keeps surprising me.

He acts like a tough guy, with his arrogance and dominance. But he isn’t. He has feelings that I have obviously hurt. I get on the bike and latch myself around him like last time. My fleshy thighs around his rock hard ones, my soft middle against his back, and my arms wrapped around his waist. He kicks off and peels out and down the road fast, the wind whips so hard it almost hurts but he seems perfectly comfortable.

I grip him tighter around his waist, and I feel his breath catch. I feel him clench more than before. So I keep doing it. I splay my hands open to feel his warmth and the hardness of his muscles. I wish I could communicate with him this way, I want to know you too, Jaxson.

But I don’t think it will work.

We arrive faster than I wanted. I take one last inhale of his natural, intense scent, before I swing off the bike. He parked right next to my car, and it is nothing short of awkward when he walks me to my car, to be nice I think, and I avoid getting in as long as possible.

“Look Jaxson,” I turn and face him quickly before I can change my mind, “I’m sorry I—I’m not really good at normal kinds of stuff, like…this. I didn’t mean to leave you hanging, is all I’m trying to say.” I look up into his even, dark eyes. I can’t even tell if they are really brown or a mix of something else.

His eyes scrunch up at the sides as he stares me down.

Now I think he isn’t going to say anything to me too, and I know how he felt in the restaurant. Except there were witnesses there. Besides the slide of the grocery store door, there is no one else out her.

The wind blows and it carries his scent my way again, and somehow pulls me closer to him too. Every time I breathe, my chest hits his and sends sparks flying through the rest of my body. His eyes leave mine, going down my face and body before meeting mine again.

This time it nearly splits me apart.

“I’m not all that good with it either.” He finally responds, his voice is so gruff and deep, strained—it goes right to a part of my body that hasn’t been touched in over a year.

“Well, then I guess—” I’m not sure when I stop talking or think I finished what I wanted to say before I realize that he has cupped my face in his rough hands and smashed his lips to mine.

Literally smashed, my teeth collide with his before he pulls back and suckles his lips around mine. His tongue is absent and yet I still feel all the passion from him, can still taste him. I swing my arms around his neck, holding him tight to me as his body flushes to mine. My back hits my car door and he presses even further. One of his massive, rock hard thighs splits mine and I feel his cock against my hip, hard beyond imagination and it doesn’t even feel like it is fully hard. The thought sends a shiver down my spine right as he deepens the kiss and the combination together makes me spin inside.

His tongue collides with mine, swiping mine aside and easily gaining the upper hand. And I let him. Because it would be no fun to fight against his dominance. He lets up for only a second and I take the deepest inhale of my life, before he continues the kiss. It really is the kiss of my life.

My hands move down his shoulders, tracing every inch of his hardened muscles, even better this way as I feel every plane of them. They tighten as he grips me more, his hands move from my face down by back, stopping at the cusp of my ass and holding me there. The heat of his hands is so close to where I really want him to be, so so close. I lose myself in his kiss, in the way he touches me.

The way he possesses me so easily.

“Fuck, Isabelle. Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Jaxson pulls of off the kiss, muttering under his breath and laying his forehead on mine. It’s hot but not slick with moisture, as I’m sure mine is. My whole body is running out of chill by now.

“I—what…” I trail off, desperately trying to catch my breath. I swallow hard and lick my lips, the last of his moisture and taste on them.

Jaxson pulls back and it feel like a loss. Of his touch, of his heat. But I get an uninterrupted view of his eyes boring into mine, that it feels okay. His hair is all tousled and even more sexy, the skin around his lips colored from the effort. If this is what he looks like after just a kiss, I’m just about dying to see what he would look like after sex. Wow, I’m thinking very much ahead.

“You have a number?” he asks, that gruffness is his voice is even more prominent.

“Um…yeah.”

He takes his phone outside of an inner pocket in his jacket, and I put my contact in. I even add my last name in it, Isabelle James.

“I’ll call you. Get home safe.” He turns on his heavy heels and walks off, just like that, with nothing else to say.

I am a little shocked but it is Jaxson, and I didn’t expect much else from him.

I have to force myself to drive home without wrecking. I keep replaying the kiss. I keep feeling his hands on me again.

They are permanently there, his heat, his grip. He is by far the hottest man I have ever seen and ever kissed. And I don’t even know how it happened. How I got her here.

I’m really not complaining about it though. Jaxson is… special. Different, and mysterious for sure.

Once I get home, I park and trudge up to our unit. Riley is on the couch watching trash television, which is a regular occurrence for her Sunday evening. I was prepared to relax the day before class but that went out the window when I spent hours talking to Jaxson over dinner.

“Oh my god, where have you been? It’s after nine.” Riley says with concern but doesn’t look away from her show on television.

“Um… out.” I lie.

I grab a bottle of water and guzzle it down in the kitchen before I meet her in the living room. I have my bag of school supplies that I take out to write my name on. Which is just my two notebooks. I see the pink one and immediately smile, a cheesy one that stretches my cheeks.

“Oh no, what is that smile? I have literally never seen that before.”

I take a deep breath because I know I will be explaining this to her all night.

“I kissed Jaxson.”

* * *

It did take all night.

I’m in bed by midnight and I still have to toss and turn. I look at my phone over and over and tell myself that I’m not waiting for him to call. People just say that as a response, I don’t think that they actually mean they will call.

I think about the class I have to teach tomorrow and my first workshop and it’s not even enough to distract me.

All Riley had to say was a warning about getting involved with someone in the club. I must just be naive but I don’t think Jaxson is like that. He doesn’t come off as a hardened criminal to me. He is oddly funny and sweet in his own way, arrogant as all hell but a good guy, deep down.

I know he has a dangerous edge. I felt it with him and on his bike, and it wasn’t the bike that did it. He has a look in his eyes. That he has seen some things, that he has done some things. I just don’t know what.

All I know is that once I find out, it won’t matter much to me. That kiss has sealed him onto my soul, attached me to his dangerous game.

I am on the sweet precipice of sleep when my ringing phone blares through the room. I’m pissed as all hell, seeing it is an unknown number that’s taking away my beauty sleep.

Until I think of who it might be.

“Hello?” I make my voice sound all nice, even though I should sound like a chain smoker or something.

“Hey.”

I know the voice. He doesn’t even have to introduce himself. I sit up for no reason and calm my breath. My heart rate immediately spikes, just at the sound of his voice and the sound of his breathing.

“I said I would call.” He adds.

“So you can check this off your to do list then.” I smile.

“Were you sleeping?” his voice pikes and I feel like he was smiling too. It is eerily silent on his end and I figure he is alone. I imagine him in bed, probably shirtless or even naked. I shouldn’t have.

“No. Just… in bed.” That came off more suggestive than I thought.

“You sleep early.”

“I have to teach a class in the morning and then I have a workshop.”

“A workshop?” he asks.

I know I should be going to sleep, I really should. But I can just set an extra alarm and I should be good.

“Yes. Basically other people read my work and say if it is bad or not.”

“Oh. So you’re writing plays?”

I giggle, “Yes, I do.”

“Shit. That’s impressive, Isabelle.”

I bite my lip and look up to my blank ceiling. The way he says my name goes right to my clit. I feel my pussy clenching just at the sound of his voice, of him breathing through the phone.

“Thanks. Are you in bed too?” I ask gingerly.

“No, I don’t go to bed at midnight. Do you want me to get in bed?” he chuckles under his breath.

“I—no. Um. If you want.” I clear my throat and try to roll away the awkwardness but it doesn’t work. At least not on my end.

“You’re real cute, Isabelle.”

“You’re… yourself.” I trail off, deciding against telling him I think he’s hot and sexy, or arrogant and pompous.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” he asks.

“Um, I don’t know. Probably study after class.” I feel like I know that he winces and judges me, but not in a bad way.

“Let’s go for a ride. I’ll come pick you up.”

I only take about half a beat before I decide to respond, though it’s not like I had much of an option. I know what I would say regardless.

“Okay.” I whisper.

“Goodnight, Isabelle.”

He hangs up before I can respond, though I’m not sure of what else I would say back.

It’s even harder to fall asleep now. Because his voice is fresh in my head. The hard, rough, callous of it.

It takes me right back to our kiss and the way it made my body thrum. The way it brought me and so much of my self to life.

A part that has come alive right now, thriving under the sheets. I slip my fingers between my legs and shudder at the immediate contact, it really has been too long. I close my eyes to thoughts of Jaxson. It feels so dirty and wrong, but right at the same time. And so I continue until I carry my body to climax with Jaxson and his sexy voice and body in my mind.

9

Isabelle

“You did good, really.”

My advisor from the MFA program had to sit in on my first class, just to make sure I would be on track and not ruin the students so early on in the semester.

“Thank you, Jace, that means a lot. I was really worried.”

He waves me off, “Nah, you were great. You ready for workshop?” he has bright green eyes that light up on their own, and sandy brown hair he wears messy. He always dresses like a playwright; plain clothes and sweater that looks like it’s seen some things. He’s older than me but I don’t know by how much, a few of his plays have been published and are in production, but he’s so humble, I forget about his success.

“Sure.” I’m nervous as hell, but that’s something I don’t think I want to admit to him.

We walk to the hall together.

It’s not far but it is all the way across campus. I have a bike but I don’t think I will ever use it.

After being on Jaxson’s motorcycle, it is the only bike I ever want to ride on.

When I get to workshop I swallow the feeling of being surrounded by people who are possibly better than be. Smarter, or more talented.

It lasts two hours and I’m swamped with work already. I need a partial of original work by the end of the week. I think about cancelling on Jaxson, but I can’t bring myself to. I woke up thinking about it, went to class and called role thinking about it. And sat in workshop thinking about it.

I like to think I may be the only one that has gone on a date—or sort of date, with an MC club guy that’s on this campus. But I know that’s not what makes me excited about him.

He could be a tax auditor and I would still be obsessed with knowing him. Maybe not obsessed. Close enough.

I texted Riley to see if she could give me a ride and she quickly responded.

Riley: Sure, you want to eat dinner with me too?

Me: Sure.

I don’t think taking a ride included dinner, and I would rather not have to eat through butterflies with him again.

“Hey, thank you so much.” I figured I wouldn’t take my car first day. I didn’t want to have to figure out parking. I saw where the good spots were so now, I know for tomorrow.

“Yeah of course.” She smiles over at me and peels off campus.

“Are you excited for your date tonight?” she giggles. I know she has her reservations, but she is very good at hiding that and just being excited for me.

“Oh god… I guess I am.”

She laughs aloud and moves to asking me how my day was, I let the distraction keep me from thinking about Jaxson and nothing else.

10

Jaxson

Calling Isabelle before I can even go to sleep is another thing I’m not used to. Another thing I can’t bring myself to try and understand. I went about my night as usual, finished my workout at the gym down the street before my sad frozen dinner and beer. I was only dogging her about being in bed early, I was fucking exhausted but somehow still tossing and turning, knowing I said I would call and debating whether or not to do it.

I don’t want to start out being rude or saying I’ll do things that I don’t do. I don’t know if we’re dating or seeing each other or whatever the fuck people call it. I just know that she is the only woman on my mind and will probably stay that way for a while.

So I start the day trying to perfectly plan out our date. This will be a real one, and I honestly haven’t done it since junior year of high school for the prom. My date was older, a senior, and I only went to please my mom. Because I knew I would shit senior year away and pay no attention, which I did.

As I leave the bathroom after taking a piss and brushing my teeth, Zeke calls me.

“You’re up early.” I answer. It’s barely ten, which for him is early.

“Piss off. I’m taking a boxing class, thought you might want to come.”

I laugh at that, “A boxing class? We have those here?” I put him on speaker so I can get to making coffee and a protein shake.

“Yeah, some new gym in the city. I figure if I show up, people will know it’s part of our turf.”

“Come on, you know we don’t do that.” I shake my head internally at him.

Zeke has always been that way. Using the club as a defense sometimes when we shouldn’t, or making us out to be gang type people, and we aren’t.

“I know, relax. I just know the owner. We went to high school together, he went off to college and shit but now he’s back. Opening up a gym.”

“Nice. I guess.”

“He played football but now he’s back because of some shit going on with his family. You might see him around the club.”

“Okay, anyone is welcome.” I over brew the coffee and freak out because all I did while Zeke was talking is think about Isabelle.

“I know. Anyway I was calling to see if you wanted to come.”

I snort, “I don’t box.” I lift weights, and rarely run. Zeke does a bunch of shit I can’t even explain. He was doing flips off the club roof when he was ten, getting into almost every sport there was while he was in school. I was sure he could have ridden some sort of sports scholarship to college, but he wanted to stay in town and it was around when Dad got sick for the first time.

“I invited everyone, you can’t be the only one that doesn’t show up, Scrooge.”

“That’s only for Christmas time.”

“Whatever.” He laughs his chortling chime and I ignore him until I sit with my plate in front of the window. I have a view of the whole neighborhood. Some single moms live here and have told me a couple of times that they feel safer with me here, and families with dads that come over and say I should maybe live closer to the club. They do it under the guise of neighborhood safety, but I know it’s because their women look at me. I never play into it if I can help it, but I know the man on a motorcycle thing is what some of the women like.

“I’ll go.” I decide, figuring it will be better to be around company all day, than think about Isabelle and over think what I’m going to do tonight.

I want it to be special. Isabelle deserves that, I don’t know much about her but I know at least that much. She is gorgeous and funny and nice, I don’t know how I even managed to meet her. I have never thought about a woman this way and I know it will last a long time, thinking about her every movement, wanting her to be safe. And then I kissed her and knew I was completely done for. I can still feel her lips on mine, tingling, a man like me never tingles. That shit made my knees fucking weak and all I want is to do it again.

“Good. We can grab dinner at the diner afterwards.”

“I uh—I have plans.”

“What the fuck? You never have plans.” Zeke chuckles, and it’s true.

“Yeah well, I do tonight.”

“Oh shit, is it that chick from the other night?” he practically shrieks and I hear him grinning from the other end. I’m not even sure where he is but it sounds like he is just at home.

“Yeah. And I don’t want to talk about it so don’t ask me nothin about it.”

“Hey, I get it. No worries. And I’ll cover you with the other guys, because you know Matthew won’t let it rest any more than I would.”

“Yeah, thanks.” I drink the last of my shake and shag my cup in the sink.

“Is that all you called me to say?”

He trials off, and his voice never usually gets serious. About anything. So I’m shocked when I hear him answer and know that it must be real shit.

“No. Simon is coming by the club.”

* * *

I get dressed thinking about how Simon never comes to the club. Not unless Mom makes him, or we just about bribe him to come. He was never really part of it, even when dad was alive. I don’t know why it was never his thing, or why he just never agreed with it. It used to be my mission to figure it out, but now I’m not really sure that I care much.

After I put on my bike boots and lace them up, I’m out the door. It has gotten cooler, so I’m glad I put on my cut over a flannel because the bite of the wind will be even stronger. Just as I swing my leg over the bike, I get visions of Isabelle in my head. The constant feeling of her comes to mind too. I have never felt a more perfect pair of thighs around mine, warm and soft; they were fucking perfect. And the way her scent swirled around me. It’s like warm vanilla and flowers that I never smell, that’s the only way I know how to describe it. All I want to do is inhale it for the rest of my life, too.

When I pull up to the club, I recognize every bike of the execs on the far left side. I pull up to the spot reserved for president, and accompany that feeling I get in the pit of my stomach every time I do, since Dad passed away. He’s buried only a few miles away under his bike, molded to the ground and crypted to last for centuries. I haven’t ever been back since the burial though, I don’t believe he is buried under dirt and gravel. He’s everywhere, and if I want to talk to him, I can at anytime. Days like today, I feel more like I need to.

I walk inside to the low buzz of the bar music, glasses clinking, and quiet sounds of the customers. It is usually like this on Mondays, no one is ever here except regulars. The people that come inside and eat at the bar are usually passing through town, and don’t actually live here.

If they did, the probably wouldn’t come inside. Half the town enjoys the club and the other half thinks it is a danger or a nuisance.

“Jax, how are ya?” Chris, a bar regular, greets me. He works construction and knows us through Simon, who took that up as his job. So he has been coming here for years and was friends with Dad even before that. In fact, his company built the house we grew up in as a family. It’s the only way they could afford a six bedroom in these parts.

“Doing Chris, how about you?” I ask back, shaking him hello as he half hugs me. He has definitely aged but still looks healthy as a horse, graying hair and lazy muscular build remind me of Dad.

“Ah well, the usual. Got a big job coming up just outside of town so I sent my guys out ahead of me.”

I nod and lean against the bar, our bartender right now is Frank, a good employee that’s kind of in and out, and he slides me my choice of beer.

“Simon going out there too?” I ask. Not that Simon would even tell me. He doesn’t really do that kind of thing.

“Nah, I like to keep him in town. Head up all the jobs here.”

“Oh, you’ve got him in charge?” that makes me chuckle.

He does too, “Pretty much. I have to retire soon. Someone has to take over and he is a good candidate.” Chris grins at me and I nod once, swigging back my beer. “Unless y’all need him here.”

That makes me stop and think. I had no idea Simon was that deep in the construction company. Chris started it from the ground up, he hired Simon either as a favor or because he wanted to, I have no idea.

But if he takes that on, obviously he won’t have time for the club. It’s in the family, and I can’t imagine why he wouldn’t want to do it, but I can’t force him to. I can’t hide how badly I want him to do it, either. Simon is older than me, he’ll always be my big brother in that sense, so sometimes I figure it should be the other way around, but he doesn’t. I just wish I knew when the disconnect happened.

“Nah, do what you want.” I clap him on the back and say I’ll catch up with him later before I take my beer and head to the back room for this so called meeting.

How the hell Simon even managed to call a meeting, I have no idea. As vice president, Matthew could, second to me as President. Maybe Simon realized that everyone here would still listen to him if he tried.

“You’re late.” Matthew is by the door when I walk in, standing up in his cut and gray shirt underneath, with jeans even more faded than mine.

“Fuck off.” I shake and swing my arm over his shoulders as he does the same. “Where is everyone?” I ask him.

“Out back, should be in soon.” He answers and goes to sit in his respective spot. I do the same.

In a few seconds my beer is gone and I am wondering what the meeting is about. I know about all the obvious issues, money and prospects; but Simon doesn’t.

When the door comes swinging open, I look up to see Simon and Zeke half grinning, along with the other four club members. Simon locks eyes with me and I nod at him, he grins back. I haven’t seen him since our family dinner and I feel like he looks different every time. I hate when we are referred to this way, but he looks the least like a biker out of all of us.

He keeps his hair low cut to his ears, where mine is down to my neck. He is more tanned from being out in the sun all the time, but we all are in that sense. And he drives a truck if he can help it. Plus he never wears flannel or leather. Right now he is in a black hoodie and dark jeans, combat boots that scrape the ground as he walks.

“Hey,” he shakes my hand and sits next to me.

The rest of the club execs walk in. Beast, that isn’t his real name but we call him that; he takes care of the stuff with the bar and what not and was one of the originals with Dad when he set the club up here. Then there’s Walker, a little on the young side. He is only five years out of being a prospect and is the treasurer, even though I have never talked to him about money. Maybe I am just taking a while to adjust. Walker has a family though, two boys and a wife. I still don’t know why he even joined the club, but Dad seemed to like him and welcomed him in, so I won’t argue with that.

The other two; Max and Grant, are just glorified security sometimes, a helping hand, or tie breakers when things come to a vote. They are well accepted though, and have been in the club for about fifteen years. With them and Beast, I remember growing up here in the club. They’re my pseudo uncles sometimes, and act like it.

“How’s everyone doing?” I ask.

“Good, doing okay.” Is the response I get from most of them.

“I think we all want to know who that girl is, that you dragged out of the club on Saturday?” Beast chuckles, of course it’s him that asks. Zeke agrees and it was probably him who asked. He sits on my other side, with Matthew next to him.

“There was no girl.” I lie with a gruff voice. They all laugh, even Simon who hasn’t even heard about it yet.

At least I don’t think he has.

“Whatever man. We’ll get you.” Zeke cackles his familiar, annoying laugh. I shake my head at him but can’t fight the natural smile that comes with being around him.

“So,” I clasp my fingers over the black wood table with our cut painted on it, “what’s this all about?”

I mainly ask Simon, but I figure he spoke to everyone here before me. He gives me an odd look, like he is trying to avoid talking to me or directly at me. With a sigh, he leans forward and crosses his forearms over the desk.

“The club’s in trouble, Jax.” He says with a deep exhale. His voice is heavier than usual, his expression has no levity in it. Which means he really means it when he says that.

“The new prospects should carry us into the next year, with the money and everything.” I say.

Simon crinkles his brow as he glances at Beast, who nods at him as if it is okay.

“The fuck is going on here?” I ask, getting tired of the secrets dancing around the room. I look at Zeke for a moment but he only shrugs in response, so I don’t think he knows the full story either. Matthew, too.

“Relax, son. This doesn’t reflect bad on you, it’s just the way things are.” Max adds. He has a heavy voice that boom around the room, leaving it ringing with its deepness.

“The way what things are? Look, if I felt that something was going on I would have called this meeting,” I look at Simon, “not someone who never even comes around or gives a damn.”

“If I didn’t care, I wouldn’t have come, and you couldn’t have known about this either.” Simon scratches at is clean shaven jaw, letting the skin turn white and then return back to normal before he relaxes into the back of the seat.

I try to tell myself to calm down, let the tension roll off my back. But I’m still pissed that things are being kept from me. Whether for an hour or for days, I don’t care. I am still the president now, and it is only times like this that I feel like I am living in my dad’s shadow.

“I got a guy in the city planner’s office. He told me this morning that we’re going to get hit with a bunch of taxes in land fees, building ordinances, all that shit.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” I look at Simon. He stares back with a passive look in his eye. I realize he is only here for himself. To say he helped or whatever, to keep his conscience clear for Dad.

“It mans we’re going to have to pay up or they can take this place back.” Simon answers.

“Who is they?” Matthew asks the question that I was thinking.

“The city, the bank, whoever.”

“So… what do we do about it?” I say with a heavy sigh. I swear I am too old to have a heart attack, but I feel my chest tightening at the thought of losing this place.

Since Dad got sick and passed away, it has just been one thing after another and I don’t know how to stop this snow ball from getting bigger. I rub my hands down my face and get my head back in the meeting.

“Pay up, I guess.” Zeke answers.

Simon snorts, “It’s thousands of dollars.”

“High thousands?” Matthew asks.

“High thousands. Almost fifty grand.”

“Jesus,” we all erupt with the same reaction.

“That’s a lot of fucking money.” Walker coughs. He has been silent for most of the meeting and I know why. He’s new to the game, probably doesn’t feel like he has a say. At this point, everyone does.

“I know.” Simon nods. “That’s why I told y’all.” He clears his throat and leans forward, bracing his hands on the arm of the chair.

“How nice of you.” I mutter before I think about it. He glares at me and I simply return it.

“So, obviously we don’t have that kind of cash.”

“We?” I cut Simon off, and he looks like he is two seconds from decking me in the face. He was never good with his anger.

“So paying it isn’t a good idea. Especially since we would only have until the first of the year, at the latest. We can try to push back but they aren’t very fond of us already, and probably want us out more than anything. Towns with MCs… they come with their problems. I get it. But they can’t push us out.”

“Agreed.” Matthew says.

“Alright, you’re the expert.” Beast says, “what do we do?”

“File a relief with the city office. Maybe we can get out of it that way. I know a guy there too, and he might be able to help.”

“Let’s do that.”

Simon nods, “Okay then. I can get on it tomorrow, but I have to get back to the site.”

“Thanks, son.” Beast says.

Simon rises and shakes them all goodbye, “I’ll walk you out.” I say at the last minute. He gives me a look but I pretend I didn’t see it and then walk behind him.

He takes the side entrance and I follow him out. The sun is too high, but not warm enough. I stuff my hands in the pockets of my cut and stare at him.

He stands by the door of his truck and looks back expectantly.

“Nice to see you around here for a change. Thanks for letting us know. Though, you could have called.” I chuckle once, it gets him to lighten up.

He drops his heavy shoulders and nods once.

“I guess I felt like I couldn’t.” He squints and looks off into the distance behind me before focusing back on me. “I don’t want this place to go down. Just because I’m not in deep with club, doesn’t mean that I do not care about it. This was dad’s life’s work. He loved this place…”

“And?” I press, stepping closer to him. I smell the chew of his tobacco and mint, and his heavy cologne from being outdoors all day. It’s weird, that he has always smelled the same.

“I guess that’s my issue.”

“What?”

He exhales deeply through his nose, looking at his toes digging into the ground. I wait patiently, I have nowhere to be.

“That he loved this place. Sometimes, I thought, more than us.” His voice is the quietest it has ever been, and I widen my eyes in shock. I know enough not to discount his feelings, but I never felt that way, so I don’t know where that disconnect could have come from.

“Shit, Simon, I didn’t know you…shit.” I trail off. I’m no good with that stuff. For a good heart to heart, Matthew is our guy. Or Mom. Me? I don’t know shit about comforting someone else. I can’t even do it for myself.

“It’s alright. I know it’s not true man, but that’s just the way it is for me. I want to—someday, I can be in the club. But right now I need to just, me for a while. I learned about bikes before women, and that’s got to be a huge issue.” He grins and I smile back at him.

“I know, I understand. I won’t hound you about it anymore.”

He nods in thanks.

“Speaking of women,” he pikes up his voice and I roll my eyes as I move to walk away.

“Come on, I came all the way down here.” He shouts after me.

I keep walking and throw up the finger behind me.

“Who is she? Tell me that much.”

I laugh to myself, thinking about Isabelle makes me laugh and smile. I don’t even know her all that well, I’m pretty sure I don’t know her last name yet. I know that I want to keep her safe, and that it might be from me too. And that even with the club possibly falling apart and not living up to being president, I can still count on the feelings I have budding for her.

It’s a rare occurrence.

I stop and turn to face him, “I’m pretty sure she’s my girl.”

He shakes his head once, clear enough for me to see, and then I take my leave.

I have a date to get ready for.

11

Isabelle

“Are you two going to eat?”

“I don’t know. And even if we were, I don’t think I could.” I glance at Riley over the table. She shakes her head at me and laughs.

“What?” I set the menu down and ask her. We chose a nice chain restaurant for dinner. It’s half to celebrate making it through my first day of teaching and another half for my date. I don’t go on dates, Riley knows that.

“Nothing just… it’s weird. You going out with a hot biker dude.”

I giggle, “Jaxson is a hot biker dude, I agree with you there. And also, that it is weird.”

I lean forward and whisper and she meets me halfway across the table, “And the way he kisses, I could just die.”

“How will you survive sex with him?” she giggles. I roll my eyes at her and nudge her knee under the table.

“You’re crazy. Who said that we would even have sex?” I laugh at her.

“Oh please,” she makes her face all serious, “like you would walk out of this without getting a piece of that.”

I grin. “I guess you’re right.” I shrug. But the thought still makes me shiver. I have only had sex with one person in my life. My first boyfriend and first everything.

Being a nerd in high school and kind of peaking in college did that to me. I hung out with a lot of people from theatre and arts classes, so that’s where I met Jason. He was nice enough, handsome enough, but he was always just enough and that was it. I didn’t know where to go from there and that’s probably why the relationship lasted so long. I knew that I didn’t love him and that there was almost no passion. The first time we had sex felt like a chore. Like oh, we have been dating for six months so we should probably do this. I didn’t even tell him I was a virgin until after, I didn’t even feel like I could open up to him.

Jaxson is different already, though. I feel like I could probably tell him anything. That I could bare all my secrets to him. There is definitely passion. That kiss is still heating my body and searing my lips. And of course I have already thought about sex with him, he is the most gorgeous man I have ever seen my life. He has a ruggedness to him, but a softness that I feel like only I saw last night. Even with his whole biker look, I don’t think he is dangerous. On some guys, the long hair thing could be weird; but his wavy dark locks that fall to his neck are the epitome of sexy to me. I want to run my fingers through them all night, feel them on my skin. He is tall as ever, built like he works out but not too much. He is incredibly defined though, I felt every part of his ribbed muscles when I was on his bike.

“Hello, Isabelle?”

“What?” I stare back at Riley for a good few seconds until I notice that the server came by.

“Oh, did you already order?” I say dumbly, I bet I sound as dumb as I look too.

Riley gives me a funny look, and our server just laughs. He seems a bit amused, though.

“Um, yeah.”

I laugh nervously, I glance at the menu and don’t even know what I am reading. I thought about Jaxson so much I gave my skin a flush that I can feel.

“I’ll have the… same as her.” I panic and just blurt that. Riley and I eat alike though, I think.

“Sounds good, I’ll bring that right out for y’all.”

We thank him and I wait until he leaves to ask Riley, “What did you get?”

She laughs at me and shakes her head, “The steak and mashed potatoes.”

I sigh, “okay. Good enough.”

She laughs, “What the hell were you thinking about?”

I decide to lie so I don’t get grilled for the rest of the evening.

“Um, I have to write an original short play for my workshop. It’s due Friday.”

“Jeez. I don’t know how you can continue on with automated assignments. My life isn’t measured in semesters anymore.” She sips at her lemonade.

“When it was did you even go to class?”

“Fuck no. Are you kidding? Restaurant management was the easiest of them all.” She laughs under her breath.

I nod at her and sip my water. The dim lights of the restaurant make me sleepy. I have had a long day, and just want to shower and then lay in bed. But I wouldn’t miss my date with Jaxson for the world. I feel like I am just now experiencing how a real man should be and I don’t want to mess it up.

Despite not knowing him or him being in a club, I feel like he is a good man. I even want to tell my mom about him. I only told my mom about Jason because she surprised me and showed up in my apartment. Not my brightest day.

“What do you think you’ll write?” Riley asks me.

“I have no idea.” I laugh. “I usually write sappy, women’s fiction type stuff. I want to try something edgier but I don’t want to get torn apart in workshop. I got admitted based on my writing style, so I don’t want to mess that up.” I sigh.

“Yeah, but the program is all for trying things and becoming a better writer.”

“I know, you’re right.”

“Who cares what people think? It’s not like you’ll ever see them again.”

“Uh, except every day for the next two years?” I laugh at her.

She shrugs and rolls her eyes at me. “Fuck. Sorry. Still, just do what you want.”

I nod in agreement.

“I will.”

We finish our dinner and head back home. We get there around six, giving me enough time to get ready. Jaxson texted me at dinner but I didn’t want Riley to see and quiz me. Sometimes she makes me more nervous than I really am.

Jaxson: I’ll be there at eight to pick you up. Can’t wait to see you.

Isabelle: Okay. Can’t wait to see you too.

I finally respond after almost an hour. I feel so bad, but Riley likes to let her food go down and what not before she gets up.

Since I have time, I lay on my purple sheets and grin like a school girl staring at my phone. I can see that he is typing and wait to see what he is going to say.

Jaxson: I thought you were about to stand me up.

Isabelle: Sorry, I have a nosy roommate and we were out at dinner.

Jaxson: Oh, we’re not telling anyone about us yet?

I giggle to myself. I knew he could be a jokester if he wanted to, but I quell the thought that I brought it out of him. He must be like this with his brothers or guys at the club.

Isabelle: You’re a funny guy.

Jaxson: For you I am.

I smile wider and leave the conversation there. For mystery or anticipation, I suppose.

When I feel like my stomach has settled from nerves, I start getting ready. I check the weather and then pick an outfit of simple dark jeans and a plush, cream sweater. It’s one of my favorites and I have a feeling he might like it on me, since it is tight and form fitting. I wash my face and then reapply some makeup, nothing that will get whipped in the wind or anything, and something a little glossy for my lips.

I slip on canvas sneakers and am done just in time, I might have rested too long.

“Oh, you look cute!” Riley comments from her spot on the couch. I grin back at her.

“Thanks, is it okay?” I stretch my hands out and survey myself.

“It’s fucking hot, you look amazing. I wouldn’t lie.”

I nod at her, she really wouldn’t. I check my hair in the living room mirror, I left it down and wavy but want to make sure it hadn’t frizzed up. That’s when a buzz comes at the door and I jump in my skin.

“Eek, it’s him!”

People usually have trouble finding the place; and when I say people, I mean the pizza delivery guy. It hides behind two other buildings so it’s hard to find.

“I know, Riley. Don’t make me piss myself.” I clutch my cross body bag and wipe my palms on my jeans. “Here I go. Don’t wait up.”

I walk to the door and take the steps down, finding him perched on the end of his bike waiting for me.

He looks dreamier than I remember and I feel out of luck. His jeans are tight, fitting the strong muscles of his thighs and—other places. He has on a thin button up under his familiar leather jacket, the buttons strain right at his pecs and I can almost see the divets of his abs. And his hair is already wind blown, his cheeks a little rosy too.

“Hey,” I finally say with a dry mouth. I swallow and hope some moisture will come up, but it doesn’t.

“You look hot.” He stands up and says frankly, I stare back like he spoke a different language.

“Um, thank you. So do you.” I giggle as if I didn’t meant to say it. I mean I did, just not out loud.

He lets out one chuckle under his breath and I feel myself blush. I cross the rest of the space, coming right up under him to inhale his cologne and natural scent. I can smell all his experiences on him, with his natural scent and strong cologne he wears, it floods my senses. He tilts his head down to look at me, and brings his fingertips up under my chin, tilting my head up to his. He locks his dark eyes with mine for a fast, heated second before his lips are on mine.

Soft at first, like a hello, and then it’s a complete kiss with his lips seared around mine. He tugs my body close to his, so that every plane falls onto him and I feel myself let go and mold to him. It becomes the best feeling in the world. I reach my hands up to the lapel of his coat, stretching on my tip toes before I link my arms around his neck just as his tongue dances across mine. I feel my knees go weak and surrender to him even more. Even more so when his big, hot hands come down on my ass, squeezing me without abandon. I move my hips and gasp into the kiss when I feel his cock against me through his jeans and at that moment he pulls away.

I stare up, breathless and panting, into his even brown eyes. The streetlights finally show me their true color.

“Fuck. We might not even make it out of here if we don’t stop.” He licks his red lips and swallows, glazing his eyes over my body. “Why’d you go and wear something as sexy as this?” he gives my ass a good squeeze and I yelp before he releases me.

“You don’t look too bad yourself.” I smile and bite my bottom lip. My nerves have slowly faded away, but the heat is still coursing through my body.

He gives me a crooked smile before he turns and gets the helmet out for me. As usual, he puts it on for me and then gets on the bike first. My jeans stretch with me as I settle around him.

His warmth seeps through and I press my body to his without hesitation, he kicks the bike on as I wrap my arms around his waist, cinching his tight waist and muscles. He drives off in a faster than normal station, but I don’t mind. The wind hits me and I literally feel like I am flying. It’s the best feeling in the world, second to kissing him at this point. They both come after my love of plays but are running close seconds.

I relax into the drive and don’t notice how long it is. Jaxson goes too fast for me to really see, but we hit plain land and are just cruising down into the more country part of the town. I have never been down here, I literally got off the plane and came to the apartment, now I only go to campus. But this is beautiful, peaceful.

The bike slows and we peel around an open field. He helps me off and takes my hand in his as we walk farther down, it looks like it was already set up, when I get closer I see a blanket out on the ground and flashlight.

“You did this?” I ask Jaxson.

He lets my hand go and bends to turn the flashlight on. Once he does, it lights up a portion of the forest. I listen to the creaking of branches in the wind, and what’s probably squirrels running across the ground.

“No, we’re stealing this from someone else.” He stands back up and extends his hand to me. I take it, and we sit down on the thick quilt. I snuggle up next to him naturally, and he wraps his large arm around me to hold me close.

“You asked me what I would do if I wasn’t in the club.”

I nod, looking up at him. His angular jaw tenses before he relaxes and glances at me.

“I’d probably do something like this. Something with nature, I don’t know.” He says it like it doesn’t count, but I want to assure him.

“I get it. You just enjoy it.”

“Yeah but I don’t even know what it is I enjoy. I mean, when I first learned to ride, I came out here a lot. I found myself coming back here at every turn, it relaxed me. Nothing bothers you out here, I have it all to myself.”

“So why share it with me?” I ask too quickly, I sound genuine but I don’t want him to think I don’t appreciate it. “Not that I don’t… I’m glad you did.” I quickly add. I clear my throat and feel him smiling down at me as I avoid his gaze.

“Because I just felt like I could. Can’t really explain it.”

I nod, “okay.”

I lay against him for a long time, it seems. And we eventually move so we are laying down, and my head is on his chest. I feel his even heart beat and it feels like a privilege.

“So, why plays?” he asks me after a while.

“Oh no,” I sigh.

He chuckles once, “What is it?”

I giggle, “Nothing. It just…reminds me of having to write a personal statement or something.” I sigh. “Other people love books, but I like plays. It gives everyone a chance.”

“Do you feel like you didn’t have a chance?” he softens his deep voice.

“Sometimes. It was just my mom and I growing up, and she worked really hard but I still missed out. Do you feel that way, with your dad and the club?”

I look up at him. He licks his lips and shakes his head as if to himself.

“I just had a conversation like this today with my brother, Simon. He isn’t as involved in the club as I am, and…he basically said that’s what he felt like. I felt bad because I never felt that way. So I think maybe I had something to do with it.”

“With him not wanting to be in the club?”

He exhales, “Yeah, that. Everything. Who knows. I’m no good with this shit.” He furrows his brows together and stares up at the night sky, empty of stars but still beautiful in the dark sky color.

After a moment, he turns sideways to me, propping himself up on his elbow. With his other hand, he cups my cheek and moves my eyes to his. I get lost in his deep eyes, with so much emotion he doesn’t even know he is capable of.

“I feel like I’m good with you, though. At least I want to be.”

12

Jaxson

When I picked Isabelle up, I had a thousand thoughts running through my head. All were about how I could make this night special for her. Make it worthwhile. I don’t usually do this kind of thing; dates, nights out with women that don’t include the bedroom. But she is different, and I knew that she was. I just hope that it lasts long enough for her, that she feels the same.

I just about fucked everything up when she came down the stairs in that tight fucking sweater, looking like a sexy angel or something. Her jeans hug her every juicy, full curve, accenting her pert ass. All I wanted to do was grab her all over, and so I did. Until I could barely contain myself. I only understood then why Simon drives a truck, because I would have had her in my back seat right then and there.

My nerves got to me, though, when we pulled up to the field.

“You did this?”

I look into her big brown eyes, staring up at me with all this wonder and admiration that I have never seen on anyone before. At least, not while they were looking at me. I feel my skin heat from underneath, another feeling I only get when I am around her.

All my fingers tingle down to the tips, my throat feels like it isn’t even working anymore, and I feel my eyes bugging out of my head every chance I get to look at her.

I use the time it takes to bend and turn the flashlight on, casting the forest in a wide glow. I haven’t decided if I like it better during the day, or at night. At night, there’s like a secret in the forest, something I can’t see but know is there. Kind of like the way I love the club and riding.

“No, we’re stealing this from someone else.” I stand back up and extend my hand to her. As soon as her warm, soft skin hits mine, I damn near fall down.

She grips my hand tightly and sits down with me. Her scent wafts my way and it takes all my self-control not to stop and just inhale her more. The strong vanilla tones, lilac and flowers… it’s as intoxicating as her. Instead of sniffing her like a maniac, I wrap my arm around her and pull her close, she glides into me and naturally falls against me. She fits right in my empty places.

For a moment, we just sit. I let her take in the scenery the same way I did the first time. I glance down at her sometimes and see her eyes darting across the field, her brows raising when one of the bushes scramble. Watching her appreciate the same thing I have, the same way I once did, gives me that feeling of being able to open up to her. Something about her lets me lay down all my defenses.

“You asked me what I would do if I wasn’t in the club.” I start, even though I have an uneasy feeling, I still continue.

She nods and I feel her look up at me. I flex my jaw to swallow the unease back, and then it’s gone.

“I’d probably do something like this. Something with nature, I don’t know.” I try to discount it, so I don’t sound like a sappy guy. I figure there is nothing wrong with that, but I never had the opportunity to. I never knew what it was like to know anything outside of the club. School, I did just to get through it. But I didn’t go to college or bother being anything other than a club member.

“I get it. You just enjoy it.” Her voice is soft, sweet. It rings in my ears and I want to hear more of her talking, just to enjoy it.

“Yeah but I don’t even know what it is I enjoy.” I sigh, dreading the thought of trying to explain it.“I mean, when I first learned to ride, I came out here a lot. I found myself coming back here at every turn, it relaxed me. Nothing bothers you out here, I have it all to myself.” I think of it the same way as riding on the open road, but something is different about it. Maybe one day I could even live out here, or move somewhere to work in a place just like it, I have no clue. I just had to get it out, because I come here alone, and Isabelle is the only person I let share with me.

“So why share it with me?” she asks, her tone piking. Then she clears her throat and fidgets her fingers a little. “Not that I don’t… I’m glad you did.” She adds quickly, and I bite back a chuckle. It isn’t the first time I have heard her flustered, but it’s still cute. That she cares about talking to me, about knowing that I know she cares too.

I think about her question because I don’t really know how to answer it. How can I tell her that she gives me faith, that she brings out a part of me I either forgot, or never knew existed? Yeah, there is no rule book for that.

“Because I just felt like I could. Can’t really explain it.” I keep my voice even, low in my throat.

She nods and simply answers, “Okay.”

We just sit there together, under the clear sky and gushing wind. The air is so clear here, so open, I feel like I’m floating around nothing and then I feel Isabelle pressed against me and the feeling goes away. Her softness, her beauty; I keep stealing glances at her under the moonlight and my breath is taken away every fucking time.

After a bit longer, I lay us down so she can get comfortable. Her head rests on my chest just above my heart, and with every inhale I smell where the vanilla in her scent comes from. Her brown hair looks even more gorgeous under this light, if that was possible. I keep imagining how her hair would look splayed over her naked back as I took her from behind, or as she rode me backwards.

I cull my thoughts back from their dangerous place by changing the conversation.

“So, why plays?” I ask her.

“Oh no,” she sighs with a smile.

I chuckle under my breath, “What is it?”

Her giggle is soft, “nothing. It just…reminds me of having to write a personal statement or something.” She pauses with a sigh. “Other people love books, but I like plays. It gives everyone a chance.” Her lips smack and she adjusts her head on my chest.

“Do you feel like you didn’t have a chance?” I lower my voice to her, letting her know she doesn’t have to answer if she doesn’t want to.

“Sometimes. It was just my mom and I growing up, and she worked really hard but I still missed out. Do you feel that way, with your dad and the club?”

She pulls her eyes up to mine and I think ‘fuck’ how did this get turned on me. I glance in her eyes and lick my lips as I think.

“I just had a conversation like this today with my brother, Simon. He isn’t as involved in the club as I am, and…he basically said that’s what he felt like. I felt bad because I never felt that way. So I think maybe I had something to do with it.” I stay in the thought for a moment, realizing only now, that I had an idea of what he was trying to say to me.

“With him not wanting to be in the club?” she follows.

I take a deep breath, “Yeah, that. Everything. Who knows. I’m no good with this shit.” My frustration makes me frown, as I stare up at the night sky wishing the answers to everything could just be up there, but they aren’t.

I take a moment and then I move us so that I am facing her.

Not because I wasn’t comfortable, but because the way her thigh was inching closer to my cock was getting to be dangerous. I’ve been semi hard since I fucking saw her and it isn’t getting any better, despite the deep conversation. I turn and look in her eyes, soft and a little droopy at the moment, but still beautiful as ever. Under this light, I can see that they’re hazel around the edges, and darker in the middle.

“I feel like I’m good with you, though. At least I want to be.” I say with another sigh. It seems to calm my nerves a little bit.

I keep my hand on her cheek, the softness of it is enchanting, and I trace her full lips with my thumb before I inch closer and kiss her.

When my skin meets hers, I feel like I’ve erupted into flames. Like I hit the throttle too fast, and there is no turning back. I have never felt a softer pair of lips, a smoother, sweeter taste. My tongue darts out immediately for more, hitting the inside of her bottom lip and then she opens up to me. I take a large inhale and deepen the kiss and tighten my grip on her.

My hands move from her face to her shoulders, and she easily swings over me as her hand braces against my chest. She clutches my jacket and then dips her hands underneath, over the thin material of my shirt so I easily feel the heat of her hands. I swipe my tongue over hers and she pushes back, for a delicious second, we kiss each other as hard as possible before falling into a softer kiss; exploring each other’s lips, taste, as long as we can.

Isabelle pulls away, when she needs air. Her hands trail down my chest gingerly, I feel her tremble. I press my forehead against hers to steady her and glide my hands down the smooth planes of her body. I grab her waist, then move down to her wide hips. I love that I can grab onto them, move her where I want to. And that’s lower, so I can relieve the pressure in my cock by pressing it against her warmth between her thighs. She mewls out a breath, and I move my lips down the edge of her jaw, pressing up into her further. She tilts her head and her hot breath goes to my ear, I continue, shamelessly grinding against her in my jeans as I find the sweet spot of her neck to suckle.

I groan at the first taste, the feeling of just laving my tongue over her hot skin to feel her pulse and then suckling even more. Her mewls grow louder, closer together, as she starts to grind back against me.

She is as eager as I am, and so I continue. I can feel her flesh turn red before I move on. I keep my left hand on her hip, the other goes to the wide neck of her sweater to pull it down. I trail down lower, stopping my lips at the center of her shoulder. I can’t fight the urge, I softly bite her and she yelps. I chuckle darkly under my breath and raise my hips higher to her.

There is no way I’m coming in my pants, but I’m getting pretty damned close already. I suckle her skin over my bite mark, until I am pleased that I left a good mark on her. I cup her face and kiss her again, small pecks, the smacking sound rings in my ears as I continue. Her hips come down over me more, her weight adds to the heat and it buckles my knees, even laying down.

Suddenly she breaks my small kiss and pulls back. Her brown eyes are big, wild. I want to see them like this all the fucking time.

“Jaxson,” she bites her now swollen bottom lip.

“Hm,” my eyes rove over her wild hair, and pink blushed skin. I’ve lost my concentration already. Her hips pause over mine but still stay close.

“It’s been a really, really long time…”

“Since?” I press her.

She blushes even more, if that’s possible, and I wonder what she is talking about. I grin at her when I flex my hips up and she naturally moves against me.

“Since I’ve had sex. And—” she is breathless now, as I understand what she is saying but just want to tease her.

I reach down and unbutton her jeans. “And?”

Her breath is so shaky, she nearly wheezes. I keep going, pulling down the zipper and shoving my hand in the space. I groan when my fingers touch her hair, I love that she isn’t bare down there. And then I about lose it when I feel her silky pussy dripping between my fingers.

“And…” she almost squeaks, her breaths are so close together.

She gives up when she collapses against me, her head goes to the crook of my shoulder and I slide my fingers further. Right until I feel the bud of her clit, hard and throbbing. I feel her pulse, her every beat. I circle my finger there, not even bothering to move. She starts to tremble, her shaking brings my cock to life again and I wish I could do something to relieve the pressure, but I’m so focused on her it doesn’t even matter.

“Jaxson…” she moans my name, and the sound is more than perfect. It makes my mouth fucking water.

I move my fingers faster, but still slow enough to hold her right on the edge. I know she is so close she can taste it.

Her fingers come up under my shirt and she clenches my abs, her nails dig into my skin and the sting is delicious.

“Fuck Isabelle, you’re so fucking wet for me.” I whisper in her ear and she shivers. I bite down on my lip as I watch her skin flush all the way to her ears, circling her tiny pearl earring. Her clit feels like a fucking pearl to me now, hard and circling around my finger.

She’s so wet I lose my grip on her, my wrist clenches from the position. But I keep going because the sound of her coming undone is the best thing I have ever heard.

“Come for me, Isabelle. I want to feel you come on my hand.” I growl.

She gasps, with a sharp inhale her breath goes silent and then she is done for. The moans she erupts in ring right in my ear, her body takes over and shakes—she trembles like an earthquake and I feel her heated pussy clench around my hands, drip around my fingers. I slide further in and slip two fingers in her, just as her moans die down I use my palm to press on her clit and I put pressure there until a second wave comes over her, and I know she is spent from the way she just collapses against me.

I move my other hand and kiss her as I slide my fingers out, my tongue swipes her and I moan at her taste and think of how good my cock will feel inside of her. I have to wipe my hand on my jeans from her juices.

“You’ll stain your pants.” She mutters.

I pull back and meet her gaze, and she looks like she doesn’t even remember who she is. I grin at her, a full one, showing all my perfect fucking teeth at her.

She smiles back and then licks her lips.

“It’s a stain I’d love to have.” I chuckle once.

She slides off me and lays on her side to zip herself back up. After she catches her breath, she leans up and glances at my cock, it’s fairly obvious from how hard I am, jutting off to the side and begging to be set free.

“How long has it been since you had sex?” I ask her, out of curiosity.

She giggles and looks off into the distance, her eyes leaving my cock.

“Um, a long time.” She laughs and looks at me.

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?”

“I mean… do you save that kind of thing for relationships or something?” I ask carefully.

“Um, no. I guess, it just only happened that way. I was never the kind of girl that could sleep around, but the thought crossed my mind.”

“You don’t have to feel guilty about that.”

She beams with amusement, “Do you sleep around?” she pokes at my chest.

I grab her finger and kiss it. “No. Not technically.”

She giggles, “Okay.”

“If you want to wait with me, I get it. I’m not your typical guy, you know with the MC club and all.”

“I don’t…” her long lashes flutter against her cheeks before she meets my gaze with a tentative expression. She is starting to be really fucking cute when she is nervous. “I’m not necessarily waiting with you. I thought we were about to… I want you more than I have ever wanted anyone before.” She says in one breath.

My eyes widen on their own, not that I don’t feel the same way. But just that I’m glad. I haven’t been jaded by club rumors about the guys, her thinking I’m dangerous or something. Then again, she was new to town when she met me. I’m getting off track because now all I can think about is fucking her.

“I would have gladly fucked you right here and now, but you don’t seem like the kind of woman I can fuck on the forest ground.”

She blushes as if she didn’t just admit to the same thing and it makes me smirk.

“Oh.” Her throat moves with a swallow.

I hold her to me with my arm around her and change the conversation, so I can stop feeling like my dick is going to fall off and she can stop flashing those cute ass faces at me.

“You’re falling asleep.” I say to her gently after a while, and it’s true.

“Mhm.”

“Let me take you home.”

I get her up and then grab the quilt I laid down. I fold it and stuff it into the seat compartment, then I help her put her helmet on like always.

“I can do it myself, you know.” Her eyes are sleepy as hell but those words were solid.

“I know, sweetheart.”

She grins at the word. I don’t even know where it came from, but it feels like it’s sticking.

Once I get settled, I’m off down the winding road to her place. She lives more in the suburbs part of the town, just before the city line. It’s gotten colder and the wind bites, but her soft body behind me is enough to keep me warm for what feels like forever. My hand still pulses from being between her legs, my lips are still on fire even as the wind smashes them.

I think about her all the way to her place, and am eager as hell just to turn around and see her again.

“Thank you, Jaxson. I had a great night.” She smiles at me. I walked her to her door and stopped just in front. She fiddles with her keys. I already know I’m not coming in tonight. I want her badly, clearly, but it feels too soon. I know she isn’t some delicate flower, but she feels delicate to me.

Her being with me. I don’t want to scare her off, not that I’m a crazy dom in the bedroom or something. But sometimes I feel like too much for her; I was aggressive in the beginning and she didn’t like that at all. I can’t mess it up now that I have tasted her.

“You’re welcome. I did too.” I exhale once and step closer.

She clears her throat, “ I have a really busy week ahead of me, with school and everything. So um—”

“I’ll just see you this weekend, when you’re free.”

She smiles as if she is glad I understood. I know there is a story there, but now isn’t the time to ask for it.

“Okay.”

She bites her lip and then rises on her tip toes quickly to kiss me. I smile against her lips and deepen the kiss, getting one last good taste of her.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

I step back and watch her unlock the door.

“Goodnight, Jaxson.” She says back to me. I watch her step inside and then rush out of there, before I change my fucking mind.

* * *

My hands are on my cock as soon as I step in the shower. But it doesn’t stay for long, since Isabelle is still on my mind, her scent on my hand and in my brain. I come faster and harder than I have in a while before I finish up.

It’s not late but somehow I’m exhausted. My days aren’t usually this packed and emotional. When I fall asleep I don’t know whether to think about Isabelle or the club being in trouble. Isabelle wins.

She is so fucking sweet and genuine, I didn’t know women like her were still out there. I thought Dad got the last one in Mom, he said it enough. But Isabelle… she is one of a kind. I knew it when I first saw her, I just didn’t know if I was being crazy or blowing smoke, that I had seen one too many formulaic women before. But not her.

I don’t know about her being my old lady or anything like that, but I see it. For the first time, I see a future beyond myself and my bike, and the club. And that’s what makes me fall asleep, so I can dream about that.

* * *

The next morning is greeted with a text from my Mom, saying she is outside my fucking house. It is barely eight, but here she is. I drag myself out of bed, piss and freshen up, then put on some flannel pants before I open the door.

“See this is why I took your key last year.” Is my greeting. My voice sounds like coal knocking together because I just woke up, but I don’t even care.

She snorts and waltzes in. “Oh please, after you see this breakfast casserole you’ll change your mind. Where are your clothes?” she drops a plate on the counter and then spins around to face me.

“You dragged me out of bed and expect me to be fully dressed?”

“I forgot how grumpy you were in the mornings.” She says nostalgically with a sigh.

I manage a grin at her, and then give her a proper greeting. She hugs me and checks my face like I have something on it, but she just does that. She isn’t in her nurse’s uniform, so I have no idea what her plans are.

I make us both cups of coffee and we sit at the island, but not before I grab a spoon.

“Did my brothers get casseroles too?”

“Nope.”

“Really?” I arch my brow at her and then open it up.

The smell hits right away, and it makes my stomach grumble. I dig in without question.

“Yeah, I figured you were having a hard time, what with all that nonsense with the club.” She leans back in the chair and crosses her arms.

“Yeah, well. It is what it is.” I keep eating, it’s even still warm so I figure she woke up early to make it. “This is good Mom, you made it today?”

“Don’t change the subject.” She touches my forearm with her left hand, her diamond ring still shining on her finger.

“I’m not…” I lie.

“I know it seems hard but it will be fine. Your Dad ran into quite a few problems too, so it isn’t just you.”

“It’s not?” I stop chewing and ask. She shakes her head. I stare into her dark blue eyes and she is unwavering. Not just making me feel better.

“No. He had shit going on with the police at one point, the FBI, and of course he county.”

“Shit. How did he get out of it?”

“I don’t know. He never told me.” She says, and I know she isn’t lying because one, she never lies. And two… I’m just shocked.

“I thought you two talked about everything.” I drop my spoon and sip my coffee instead.

“We did. But we also didn’t.” She sighs and grins to herself, “If we talked about everything with the club, we wouldn’t have lasted as long as we did, Jaxson.” Her voice goes soft, and I know we have been talking about him for too long.

I must really love my Mom because I can only think of one thing to get the sad look off her face.

“I met a girl.”

“What?” she immediately smiles, and it feels worth it, despite the oncoming interrogation. “Where did you meet her? Is she your girlfriend?”

I shake my head, “Relax Mom, one at a time.”

She nudges my arm. I take another drink of coffee, she hasn’t touched hers but I’m glad because she is so hyper right now.

“I met her at the club. She is new to town though, so she isn’t a regular or—what do you call them?”

“Bar busters.”

“Yeah. She came here for graduate school, actually.”

“Oh, she’s smart. Like me.” She laughs softly.

“Yeah, exactly like you. Anyway, she came to one of the bar nights and we actually got off on the wrong foot. I told her to leave.”

“Jaxson!”

“It was valid, I didn’t want her getting mixed up in all that shit. She’s… good, you know? I still feel like I’m going to taint her in some way.”

“Oh, Jaxson. She sounds like the kind of girl who wouldn’t do anything she didn’t want to do, so don’t worry about that. Just be good to her.”

For some reason, last night flashes in my mind and I don’t think second base with her in the middle of nowhere is being good to her. But who knows.

“Thanks. I’ll try.”

“When can I meet her?”

That makes me stand up.

“Oh Mom, I don’t know. We’re not that serious yet and I don’t know if we will be.” I stop and think, because I actually want her to meet my mom.

Shit. I have never wanted to intentionally introduce anyone to my mom, at any point in my life. But now I see it. I want Isabelle to meet her, so my mom can see how important she is to me.

“Okay, I’ll leave you alone. But everyone is coming for dinner tonight.”

“Got it.” I hide my discomfort. I love having dinner at the house but dealing with my brothers is a hassle sometimes. Especially Zeke, dude has always given me a headache, since he was born.

“I have to go run some errands. Finish your breakfast.” She gets off her stool to come hug me goodbye and then she is gone.

I end up finishing the whole casserole, though it isn’t that big, and then I go outside to get the mail. It’s the usual shit, credit card statements, club overhead, and then a new one from the city SBO is there.

I collapse on the couch and read it.

It basically just says what we owe to the city, and when it is due. Simon was right about it being just after the first of the year, because that’s when it is.

I feel a splitting headache come on suddenly and then I let it win. Somewhere between the headache and closing my eyes, I fell asleep. I wake up to a slightly lower sun and many missed calls. They all came from Zeke though, so it isn’t important.

It’s almost time to get to Mom’s house for dinner anyways, so I head to the shower to get dressed. Even though we’re in a motorcycle club and always doing rough shit, we have to be dressed nice for dinner. I find khakis and a nicer tee shirt, dark blue, and wear it under my cut. I don’t think there is a day that I don’t wear it.

Once I get dressed, I text Isabelle just to see how her day was and then set off.

It takes me fifteen minutes to get there every time. I pull up and everyone has already come, so I know I’m going to get it handed to me when I walk in. I check my phone first though, so Isabelle can put me in a good mood.

Isabelle: It was okay, how was yours?

Jaxson: Just okay? And I slept all day.

I walk inside and it already goes off with a response. I stop in the foyer, and sit on the entry way bench.

Isabelle: Yeah, I just had a rough time in class. College kids are assholes. And that’s what I would have rather been doing.

Jaxson: With me?

Isabelle: …

Jaxson: Don’t leave me hanging.

Isabelle: Of course I would be. But I have a feeling you snore very loud.

I grin and shake my head at her, I like her sense of humor.

Jaxson: Well, we wouldn’t have been sleeping.

Isabelle: Oh. Don’t distract me.

Jaxson: You busy?

Isabelle: Sort of, I was plotting. Are you?

Jaxson: About to have dinner with my mom and brothers. So I’m about to be very busy and annoyed.

Isabelle: What? You don’t like them.

Jaxson: Of course I do. There’s just stuff going on with the club right now.

Isabelle: Oh, I’m sorry.

Jaxson: Thanks. I’m sure it will be fine.

Jaxson: Look I’ll call you later.

I lock my phone and stand just as I hear footsteps coming.

“Why are you hiding?” it’s Matthew, grinning with his beer in one hand and piece of bread in the other.

“I’m not. What’s she making?”

“Spaghetti.” He nods at my phone, “who were you talking to?”

“How did you know I was… no one.” I shake my head at him and try to move around him.

We get sandwiched between two pillars when he stops me with a hand on my shoulder.

“I could hear it going off. Come on and spill, before I tell everyone else.”

I flip him off. “I was talking to Isabelle.”

“No shit,” he gets close and I smell the same cologne he has been wearing for a few years and some of Simon’s chew.

“Yeah. We went out last night.” I scratch behind my ear. I love talking about Isabelle, I just don’t love revealing her to everyone else.

Right now it feels like it’s just us, there is no pressure. Minus Mom knowing, I want to keep it that way.

“Oh, good. I don’t think I have ever seen you go on a date.”

“I could say the same to you, asshole.”

The envelope in my jacket suddenly starts to weigh more. I know I have to tell them about it, and Simon will hear too even though he might not care as much.

Though after our conversation yesterday, I think he might.

“Right on. Let’s get in there before—”

“What are we whispering about?” Zeke and his heavy boots come around the corner. He grins, as always, with his messy hair under his hat and cut torn at the sleeves.

“Nothing.”

“Hey don’t hate on the youngest.” He pops something in his mouth I didn’t see before and chews loudly.

“Boys, I can hear you out there, come and set the table!” Mom yells, and that’s it for our side bar.

We walk in the kitchen and I hug her hello. She changed into jeans and a big sweater I recognize as Dad’s after a second. Her smile isn’t sad though, so it makes me feel okay.

I figure the bad news should wait until after dinner, but I still wish I didn’t have to wait at all. That nothing was even wrong. That Dad was still here. I’m starting to realize why I hate family dinners.

13

Jaxson

“So, Simon, how is work?” Mom asks as she passes green beans. Zeke chuckles under his breath but he doesn’t hide it very well, Mom notices and gives him one of her signature looks. Raises her brow and purses her lips.

“It’s good.” He heaps a combination of green beans and more roast beef on his plate. By the time it reaches me again, it is all basically gone. But I know Mom has another batch in the over for us all to take home.

“That’s it?” she tenderly cuts her meat in half.

“Sure, I mean, I guess things are going well. Chris has me heading a new project for this subdivision coming up just outside of town.”

“Oh well that’s good, you’ll be in charge?” Mom flatters him.

He chuckles once, “Sure, Mom. I’ll be in charge.”

“Well be nice.”

We all laugh, because Simon is known for his cold shoulder that he gives nearly everyone.

I crack open another beer. We set the table for another round so we don’t have to get up.

“We should start grilling Zeke now.” Matthew suggest with a humorous tone. I roll my eyes at him and Zeke just nudges him since they are sitting next to each other. I’m next to Simon, who has taken his opportunity of no questions to eat. I can tell he probably hasn’t eaten all day.

My mind is on the club and Isabelle. Darting between the two and unable to decide which one to focus on. If I can’t figure out how to come up with the money, then we will be shit out of luck. And the club will go down in less than a year of me taking the cut as president. And Isabelle… if I can’t figure out how to open up to her, I know I won’t be able to keep her.

And it has taken me a while to realize just how much I want to keep her. I have never met anyone like her; a woman as smart and sweet and beautiful. I realize I have to stop thinking about her before Mom catches wind of it.

“What did Zeke do?” Mom asks with this innocent tone, like he can do no wrong. Honestly in her eyes, he can’t. That’s her youngest and most perfect and apparently he was born at a hard time for Mom and Dad.

I don’t know what it was that happened, they have glazed around it the few dozen times the conversation has come up. All they said was that Zeke held them together for a while, when they felt like the years of their marriage was catching up to them.

“Nothing. That’s the problem. He’s always fucking asking for money.” Matthew explains, not without blame in his tone though. We all just laugh because we know it’s true, but none of us have said it out loud yet—at least I don’t think.

Just last week, I gave him two grand, because he asked nicely and he is hard to say no to when he really tries at it. I have no idea what the money was for, I never asked. If he isn’t sleeping at one of the spare rooms at the club, he is with Matthew. They technically live together but I don’t think he has ever paid rent.

“Oh please, Zeke is a good boy.”

“Yeah, I’m a good boy.” Zeke chimes in. I frown at him and he ignores me, just gives that crooked smile that makes my frown go away like always. “Plus I have a job. The club is my job. And I bartend when I so feel like it too.”

Matthew scoffs and Simon shakes his head. I just keep eating, because it’s entertaining and I don’t really have anything to add. They’re all valid points. Plus the bar inside the club is what keeps the lights on, ‘technically.’ It’s a reputable business with taxes and write offs and everything, and has been going since we opened. Well, it opened first.

Dad came into a new town. One that didn’t know about a MC club and how to live with it. So it started as a bar with a bunch of bikers. He told the full story a few times but it was so long ago, and I don’t remember it. Basically a club member went rogue on a drug deal, and sold the club out for immunity or some shit. Anyway, the sheriff found out about the club and it was rough going for a while. I remember being a kid and not coming around anymore. Dad must have sweet talked them or something, because the sheriff came around and we were back to hanging around the club, had our cut plastered on the doors outside and inside, too.

The bar took off, because I guess it became a place for people to dare their group of friends to go to, when they thought we were dangerous. The bar is how we moonlight though, it pays for everything legally so if the feds ever come around, and they do, that’s how we would get out of it.

The town came around, and now it’s like we rely on each other. They’ll see shit and not say anything, and we add a little extra protection to them. Then we take care of shit around town that the cops can’t and in turn they turn a blind eye.

So it’s hard to say if we are criminals or not. We break the law sometimes but only if we need to. Only if it helps someone.

“I agree. That is a real job.” Mom giggles, knowing that she is just riling us all up for her to go after.

“Then why don’t you ever have any money?” Matthew retorts.

“Honey, your food is getting cold.” Mom tries to quell the interrogation but he just waves her off.

“People are shitty tippers. I can’t really help it much.” Zeke responds simply with his fake innocent tone.

I smile to myself, deciding I’m full and sip at my beer instead. Mom’s food is always good, I just have so much going on in my head that I can’t even enjoy it.

“Hmph. Well, you need to get your shit in order.”

“And I’m just not supposed to ask about where you get your money?” Zeke says to Matthew, and the look that he returns is what gets me to pay attention.

Suddenly the room is the thicker, the tone having switched to something more serious that I can’t place.

Matthew looks pale in the face and with his sun beat skin, he never looks that way. Zeke has a challenging shade to his face, his always permanent smile is gone and he only looks like this one or two days out of the year. Even after dad died.

“What’s he talking about?” I interject, looking at Matthew. I feel Simon next to me also taking notice.

No one says anything. Matthew seems to raise a challenging brow at Zeke, but he doesn’t do anything either. And it’s only then that I realize I don’t know something, that the two of them are hiding a secret. And if it has to do with the club, they know they shouldn’t be. They know better. So I can only hope that it is completely outside that spectrum.

“Nothing.” Zeke says, slowly, he introduces a smile that unsettles me at first until his crooked grin falls back into place and I don’t worry about it anymore. Technically.

I clear my throat and break up their stare contest, trying to flash a serious look reminding them that I’m president of the club, and that if they are hiding something, they should tell me.

But Matthew only nods in response and I have to trust that he knows better than to lie.

“Well I made dessert, Jaxson come help me.” Mom stands and enlists me as her helper. I know she must be hiding something or has a plan.

I walk around the black tiled kitchen counter to face her as she unwraps what looks like a banana cobbler. It could be my favorite, if she didn’t make pecan pie so well.

“What do you need my help with?” I ask her.

“I need your help getting a piece of mind,” she says it’s so seriously, I don’t know if she is joking or not.

I frown and tilt my head at her, placing my hands on either side of me on the counter to lean over.

“Mom…”

“Don’t Mom me and don’t give me that look. What is going on with the club?” her voice is very serious, with no levity in it, but it is hard to take her seriously when she is wiping off plates and spoons to feed her sons.

“Nothing, it’s—”

“Jaxson, don’t lie. You can tell me.”

“You said that you and Dad didn’t talk about everything that was going on in the club. And that’s how you made your marriage last so long.”

“I did say that but you’re my son, and I’m your mother. What could I be doing wrong, if you won’t lean on me?”

I sigh, indecision crossing my mind. My jaw clenches as I fall deep in thought, debating whether or not to disclose all this information. I don’t want to get into the stuff going on in the background, but I might only to find out that she already knows about it.

“Nothing, Mom. I know I can lean on you.” I just don’t want to.

I think she gives up when she grabs the plates, and I take the large dish in my hands. She pauses to look up at me with her clear eyes, unwavering as always. I know there must be a storm going on in her head, worrying about all of us. And then about work and whatever else she goes through, that we don’t even know about.

“Let’s go. They’ll get rowdy soon.” She sighs under breath and leads me out of the kitchen.

I get a sick feeling in my stomach, from disappointing her, or letting her down. I have no idea. But it is there. I wish now that I had just told her, with the slump in her shoulders and dejection in her voice when she says dessert is here. I probably only made it worse by not telling her, and having her think something more is wrong. I feel like I broke something between us, and I hate it.

By the time I leave the house, it hasn’t resolved itself. Not when I hug her goodnight and she kisses my cheek like always, the extra squeeze she gives me only makes it worse.

When I look in her eyes again, it only makes me want to go to one place.

14

Isabelle

I already regret not being able to see Jaxson. I should be able to get my work done and see him at the same time, but I erred on the side of caution and decided not to have a distracting hot biker around while I write a new original play from scratch. It isn’t easy, or fun, but I love it and it is the best explanation I have.

I have a full day of tossing sticky notes everywhere and pounding on my laptop, but it is worth it when I have a good first act written. I don’t like having to churn out a product in such short time, but I know it is how I become a better writer in the long run.

After a nice hot shower, I strip down to an oversized Grinch tee shirt and start brushing at my hair since I washed it.

It isn’t naturally straight. It has a weird wave and curl to it, so I have to comb it down after every wash and put product in it.

It is tiring, but after I moved in with Riley, I started using her amazing paddle brush that makes life easier. It is basically mine now, and I don’t think she even uses it anymore, but I put it back on her bathroom shelf just to say that I did.

So my surprise is evident when I get a knock on the door. I drop the brush and slip on my fuzzy white slippers to go investigate. We don’t have a key hole, so I can’t see if it is a murderer or a neighbor.

“Who is it?” I call into the door. A few seconds pass, and I feel familiar heavy breathing on the other end.

When my insides melt and my skin erupts with pringles, I know who it is.

The thought is both settling and unnerving at the same time. It is if he knew, too, because when I open the door he still hasn’t said anything.

“Jaxson,” I breathe out, fighting the wide smile I know wants to give me away. I have always done that, hiding the affection I know that I feel until I can see what the other person shows.

But when his scowl relaxes, and the firm ridge between his brows disappears, his eyes adjust to mine and I tell myself that looking at me did that to him. For him.

“Isabelle…” he steps forward on his toes and I wave him in.

He walks past me. I click the door shut and take a breath before turning around. Suddenly I realize what I am wearing, after taking in his dressy attire, and cross my arms around my ratty old tee shirt.

“I know you said you were busy, but I—”

I notice he has only been looking at my face. Not at my nipples poking through my shirt, or my bare legs and how little the shirt covers me.

It’s like he came just because he—

“I just needed to see you. If that’s okay.”

“Yeah, of course.” I say quickly, I don’t even try to reel it in or pretend I am not as okay with it as I really am.

He tries to soften his frowned lips into a smile, but he can’t. I find myself drawn closer to him, my feet carrying me until I reach the circle of his warmth. I drop my arms, so my chest brushes his, and I take the ends of his hands in mine.

“What’s wrong?” I whisper.

His pained expression only tightens, and my heart breaks for him. I am already so attuned to him, it hurts. His pain is mine. His unease is mine. I moisten my lips to the cold air and trail my hands up his body. His shoulders are so tense, I feel them under the leather of his cut, and it is the thickest leather I have ever encountered. His sharp scent rolls off him too. I can smell his cologne under the brush of air he whipped back and forth on his bike, the nature and pine of his aroma relaxes me, and I start to become putty. My body heats so much, that my feet clam up and stick to the feathers of my plush slippers.

“Jaxson…” I barely finish my breath before his lips are on mine.

I have to double check to make sure, but yes, he is kissing me like the sky is falling. And I kiss him back the same way. He possesses me for his own benefit but somehow still leaves my choice in the matter to it.

I lean into the kiss, molding my body all the way to his. He is so warm I swelter under his heat, my nipples brush his hard chest and I feel his cock hardening against my thigh.

My hands travel up to his thick hair, fisting it in my fingers right where it gets long at the nape of his neck. His tongue darts out tasting mine, I fight for the upper hand but give up and let him take over, it should never be any other way when it comes to this. I taste his beer and salt from his dinner, and the clear taste that just comes with Jaxson.

His hot, heavy hands slide down my back, down the curve and to the dip of my hips, and then further to the cusp of my ass. He must know I am wearing nothing underneath, I have become well aware of the slickness between my thighs, but his hands are cautious. Knowing he has made me come on his hands but not seen my body… I guess I never knew he was a gentleman. But the way he showed up here… I want him to be everything but. To use me for his pleasure, to take away his pain even if for a moment.

I moan into his mouth, reach down to grasp his cock through his pants in the hopes of spurring him on. Lucky for me, it works.

His fingers reach the underside of my ass first, I shiver at the new contact but welcome the sensation. Then he grabs me outright, those big strong hands on my ass that I always thought was too big but feels miniature compared to him.

He breaks the kiss and we both exhale deeply, breathing the same air before he continues. Tonguing me open, sliding his lips across mine.

He does this thing where he suckles my top lip and then presses down on my bottom, that gets my sex tingling. Even more than it is now. My clit has throbbed so much, it is one long permanent pulse now. And I have dripped so much, I am afraid to spread my legs and let it drip on the rug.

He kneads the flesh of my ass over and over as he juts his hips towards me. We are practically dry humping on the floor, and not ashamed of it at all. It is too soon when he breaks away. I am delirious, barely able to hold on.

“You live alone?” his voice is ragged, unbelievably deep and dragged. It shocks me, as I stare wide eyed and can only shake my head. His voice with arousal is unrecognizable, dangerous.

“Fuck it.” He grumbles, and then hoists me up over his shoulder so fast I can’t see straight and my head dizzies.

“Mine is open.” I manage to get out.

He walks in and shuts the door behind him. Then nothing happens for a while and I am afraid that he is taking in the messy nature of my room; crumpled up sticky notes everywhere, empty water and juice bottles, possibly a plate of take out if I remember correctly… or it could be the pale pink sheets and old stuffed rabbit I have always had.

The time to process that passes when I am tossed off his shoulder and open my eyes to stare up at my ceiling. I was air born, and only as I look at him do I realize he has just thrown me onto the bed.

He heaves at the edge of it, his lips swollen and hair a tangled mess. I pant right back up at him, sprawled on the bed. I remember my bareness and close my knees together.

He gives me a look in response to that, like he is almost mad that I did it. I bite down on my lip, feeling my skin flush again.

Waves of white-hot pleasure have dropped through my body again and again, and I have done nothing to stop it.

“Fucking hell, you’re damned perfect Isabelle.” He growls. It is like I forgot he is a brooding, dangerous biker dude until then. Except I know he isn’t dangerous, but that fantasy plays in my head. After all, he did just throw me on the bed.

He strips off his jacket in record speed, his shirt comes next. I gasp at the sprawling ink. I had noticed the faint outlines before but never thought to ask or try to see it.

It’s gorgeous.

The logo starts on his left shoulder, and fans out to wide lightened rays, and I can see his brothers’ names inked in cursive between them, too. It’s the only tattoo he has, but it’s huge and takes up so much space.

I lick my lips at how delicious he is, going back to his face, his eyes are so dark and I still see the pain in them, but he is so focused on me that I think he forgets to notice.

He kicks off his pants, exposing his relatively tight black briefs. The outline of his cock makes me gulp audibly. I still lay on the bed, propping my head up, watching him strip as fast as he can.

His darkened eyes meet mine and pin me down, and I am lost for it. I couldn’t move from this place if I wanted to. I couldn’t get out of this space if I wanted to. I don’t want to, at all. I want him so badly I ache everywhere.

My nipples have hardened to painful lengths, my clit has been pulsing so long I think it might have lost feeling.

“I’m not gonna go slow tonight, baby. I fucking need you.” He warns me as he crawls on the bed. It creaks under his weight, my white wrought iron head board rattles against the wall.

“Okay,” I nod in response and assure him I am protected. He says he is clean, somehow I trust him.

“I need to always have you bare.” He grabs at my knees and shoves me open; that’s what it takes to assure me. I am exposed to the air and his heat.

He grabs at my shirt, like he might intend to rip it off, but instead he drags it until it is over my head and on the floor. Maybe he saw how old it is, and thought it was a memento.

Jaxson hulks over me, kissing me down into another sleepless dream. His warmth, his solidity… it blinds me before I let my eyes slip closed on their own. I cradle him between my legs, the fabric of his briefs hits my clit and I tremble at the contact, so close to the edge already. The taste pools in the back of my mouth and I feel myself slowly coming undone.

He uses one hand to explore my body while the other goes right to my pulsing clit, finding it immediately only to dance around it later. I know how much he needs me, and yet he is just taking care of me first. I’m so eager for him to fuck me, that I don’t care. I need him more than I thought, and I bring myself closer to orgasm just so I can have it.

He slips a finger inside me, thick and long, while his palm presses my clit to ride out my climax. I break the kiss for a huge inhale of air, I see stars as I do and can barely catch my breath through the moans.

Jaxson dips his head to my neck, finding my sweet spot to suckle at, and then he continues to my breasts. One after the other, he suckles my nipple, pulling it to an even harder bud, until it hurts so much I enjoy it. Then he does the other, over and over. His lips slide down my stomach, I wish I could cover up. The way he raises my legs makes my stomach press up, my belly button disappearing, but he kisses every inch of my flesh. Clenches my cellulosed thighs and cradles my wide hips… he worships all the parts of my body I never brought myself to and it floods my body with emotion.

My eyes water from the sensations, from the world of pleasure I never knew was out there. And then his mouth covers my pussy and I lose it. My ex never did this, no one has tasted me. It kills me as much as it brings me back to life.

“Jaxson, oh fuck!” I cry out. The neighbors can hear, Riley can definitely hear, and I don’t care.

His mouth is warm and wet—it’s different. His tongue circles my clit instead of touching it directly, his lips close around my folds and his heat seeps into my opening. He starts to lick me in closer patterns, and then spread out more. I arch my back, closing my eyes until it burns, clenching at his hair and trapping him between my thighs. I call out a bunch of other things, but it doesn’t register to my brain. Only his ministrations, the high cliff he is driving me too.

It is so intense that I feel like I have left my body before I return and cannot escape the blinding pleasure. My clit is so sensitive it hurts when he continues, and my eyes drip as I cry out. I feel myself drifting towards another one, right on the cottail and just as intense, if not more. I feel like I might truly die right here.

I hadn’t noticed he stripped down until he slides up my body and rams his cock into me.

“Jaxson—” I gasp, my hands fly up to his biceps and I grip him tightly, my nails digging into the flesh of his skin.

His hard dark eyes bore into mine as I tremble from my last orgasm and adjust to him inside of me.

He is big, too big. I feel the burn start to seep in and he still sinks in deeper. I widen my knees as far as they will go to take him all in.

Jaxson keeps his eyes on mine, and bends down to kiss me softly. I kiss him back eagerly and it’s like that told him it was okay, because I don’t recognize him afterwards.

His fingers come up into my hair and clench at the nape, that way his forearms pin me down into the bed, and he widens his knees for more traction in his thrusts. After that I don’t even know what comes next.

He starts to pound into me like a man possessed. The sheet rock of the wall rattles. My bed creaks and surrenders, but he continues. My pelvis digs into his each time, his tuft of dark hair scratches over my light one and he continues even harder. His cock seems to harden, able to control himself as he drives farther and faster.

His shoulders go slick with sweat, his forehead drips onto mine.

There is no time for even kissing, he is moving too fast and too hard. My breasts jostle and get caught on his hard chest above me.

My moans and pants don’t even have the time to finish before he comes along and makes me want to moan even more. I just end up cursing and drawing in too many breaths, driving myself dizzy and out of my mind. By a few minutes in, my body has completely surrendered. Is completely done for. He pulls at my hair and releases it, only to draw his hands down.

One goes around my knee and hooks it over his sculpted shoulder, the other clasps at my neck but doesn’t squeeze, his forearm presses the swell of my breasts there. After his repositioning, he goes back to his hard, even pace. Faster than the speed of my breathing, matching the rapid beat of my heart.

“Jaxson,” I fumble, “oh-oh-oh—” I can’t finish whatever it is I was going to say. There is too much going on.

My fourth orgasm hits me like a train, the fastest in the world. I feel myself falling into an endless pit, only to rise again and fall one more time. Or twice. I throb and clench until I feel a scolding heat inside me, spurting and flying into me with his last few pumps. He groans so deep in his chest it is part of him, part of me.

His heavy pants surface at my ear as he turns, laying his body over mine. I collapse and welcome his weight, wrapping my arms around him. I cup his face and lift him to kiss me, softly, just to remember how tender he can be. Because I can’t pretend that didn’t scare me. That I didn’t lose sight of him along the way. That ‘he’s an animal’ didn’t cross my mind.

But I’m not scared of him, I could never be.

Even when he was completely lost in me, he never clenched his hands too tight on me. I can still feel them there, but it was never too much than I could handle.

Jaxson does kiss me softly, and tenderly, like I’m his little flower, before he pulls away and the intensity in his gaze tells me everything that I need to know. I try to smile at him, but I’m too spent… too out of it.

But something flashes in his eyes and the good parts are gone. He hurries off me completely, and sits up on the edge of the bed.

“Fuck, I’m sorry Isabelle, I—”

“What? Don’t be sorry, Jaxson.” I sit up, filling with concern.

“I didn’t—I wasn’t thinking. Fuck.” He slashes his fingers through his hair and groans in frustration.

“Jaxon, I’m fine. I enjoyed that. All of it.”

He finally turns to look at me, slowly. His eyes soften before they go rough again.

“Come here and hold me.” I hold out my hand, hoping he will take it and forget about this guilt.

While I like being his sweet, innocent woman he makes me out to be, I still want him to be rough and be himself. Like he was. Because now looking back, it was fucking amazing.

“Look,” he reaches over and trails the pad of his fingers down my collarbone to my breast.

I look down, and a shade of red has taken over half my chest where his forearm was.

“It goes farther up, Isabelle.” His voice is void of anything but concern.

“When I say I’m fine Jaxson, I mean it. You didn’t come here to worry about me.” I tug his arm and he relents, sliding close to me on the bed and holding me too loosely.

“I’ll always worry about you, Isabelle.” He breathes into my ear. I nod once and turn to face him.

“I know.” I run my hand down his face. His skin is warm and he has stubble growing in.

The line of his jaw is hard and tense and I try to relax it.

“What was worrying you so much, that you came all the way over here?” I ask him.

He exhales like he hoped I didn’t ask that. He probably did. I roll over so I am half on his body, even my nakedness doesn’t distract him.

His body though, that distracts me.

His Adonis belt is so defined I could grab onto it, his abs are a perfect, hardened six pack, almost eight. His pecs are wide and nipples the same color as the head of his cock. God, he has a perfect cock. It’s massive, of course. I still feel the way it burned like I was losing my virginity all over again. His tip is a hard arrow shape, his shaft dark and marred with veins, and his thatch of hair is controlled and sparse, matching his happy trail under his belly button.

“Some shit with the club.”

“Like?” I grin softly, coaxing myself into his view.

He glances at me and I see his lips twitch with a smile too.

I giggle and he shifts to turn and face me.

“We might get shut down by the city.”

“Shut down? What the hell for?”

His features change before his face settles and he looks at me.

“Short story is we owe taxes. Long story is, someone who hates us found a way to shut us down legally, and the easiest way.”

“I thought the town was fine with y’all.”

“Some are. Most are.” He relents a sigh and it hurts me to see him like this. The club is everything to him, I can tell. I would never try to compete with it and I know that I can never replace it.

“But enough people don’t. The sheriff is on our side, but the Mayor isn’t. Neither are the people in the city offices, or some shit—Simon explains it better. Anyway they’re pissed that the cost of living is so low here, and think it’s just because there is an MC here. And that with us gone, they can attract more residents with us gone or disbanded.”

“That’s horrible, Jaxson. You have to deal with all this by yourself?” I ask in shock. Surely this can’t be on one man. Even the president of the US has everyone else doing all the work. Mostly.

“Nah, I have the other execs. But I’m the president. If shit goes down, then it’s like I did it. Couldn’t keep the club together, and it’s my own damned last name.” He clenches his jaw and his entire body tenses.

I reach over and rub my arm down his. “Jaxson, don’t think like that. Everyone knows all the good you’ve done, you’re an amazing leader to them.”

“It don’t feel like it sometimes.” He mutters.

“Shut up.” I say too quickly. Whenever Riley talks down on herself, I always say that. Or even my Mom.

He gives me a funny look, and some of his tight demeanor rolls away.

“Sorry, I just don’t want you talking down on yourself. It isn’t true.” I smile at him and kiss his cheek. It’s such a simple gesture, but it seems to go a long way because he relaxes and leans into me even more.

He turns and rubs the side of my hip, I keep my hand on his bicep and rub down his arm, occasionally tracing his tattoo. It’s easy to be in solitude with him, to be silent and hear each other breathe and move.

“I don’t know how the hell I’m going to raise damn near fifty grand before the first of the year.”

I literally stop breathing and he scoffs like ‘I told you so’. I look at him and make a face.

“That is a lot of money.” I agree.

“Yeah. And that may not be the end of it. If they want us out, I feel like they will win eventually.”

“Not if you show them who you really are. I’m sure you already have but… maybe you just have to keep doing it. I do that with my writing, sometimes. I tell myself all these bad things and read my old stuff to remind myself about it. You’re so hard on yourself.”

“It sounds like you are too.”

I giggle once, “Well that’s different.”

He sits up to look down at me. “How so?” the smile on his face and jest in his tone makes me smile wider.

I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him down to kiss me.

He grins against it and then deepens the kiss.

“Fuck Isabelle, I forgot I intruded on your night.” He moves to get up and I stop him.

“No, you didn’t. I worked all day and then I thought of calling you… but I knew you were at your Mom’s house.” I say.

Something flashes in his gaze again and he tries to roll it off. He drops down next to me again and sighs.

“What is it?”

“I think my brothers are hiding shit from me. Zeke and Matthew.”

“Do they usually do that?”

“No but… I just have a feeling.”

“You should talk to them, they’re your brothers after all.”

He nods. “You’re right.” He faces me fully and runs his thumb down my lips and up my cheek. “You’re the voice of reason in my life.”

That credit makes me smile. I don’t feel like I’m doing anything special. I’m just glad he is able to talk to me and can confide in me, even though he knows I know nothing about this kind of stuff. Club politics, city takedowns… I could read about it but I know nothing about it in real life.

I’m glad he can see that in me and still trusts me with his feelings. Though if he asked about me, I’m not sure I could ever be the same way…

“Can I ask you something?” he aske me after a while. I have moved to lay on his chest and prop my chin on my hands.

“Yeah,” I haven’t heard this tone in his voice before. Careful—he doesn’t ever talk to me carefully.

“Has no one ever eaten you out before?”

I flush beat red and cover my face in my hands immediately. “Oh my god,” I say with mortification.

He chuckles and it turns into a full on laugh. The sounds delights me and it takes my mind off my embarrassment.

“No… how did you know?” I ask carefully. I hope I didn’t do something utterly embarrassing.

“I had a feeling. You sounded very fucking confused. But you enjoyed it though, so at least there’s that.” He flashes a crooked grin and I swoon immediately for it.

“Hmph. Well, yes I did.”

After a moment, I rise off him with a yawn. He gives me a look like he is keeping me up or something.

“I just want to shower.” I explain.

“Have I made you dirty?” his deep, monotone voice is back but I know it well now. I can tell when he is joking and it makes me smile.

I giggle once and feel myself blush more and that’s his response.

I get up, immodest, and walk to the bathroom attached to my room by a short hall, very short, I just dash inside. After I pee and turn on the water, Jaxson walks in and pins me with his dark, sexual gaze. He does it very well and too easily.

“Uh uh mister, I am way too sore.” I can admit when I am down.

As much as I would like to take his cock inside me again, I know my limits. I need to be able to walk around my class tomorrow and sit in workshop.

He grins and strokes his semi hard cock once. “You’re in luck, ‘cause I’m beat too.”

I smile and hop in the shower. The blue curtain hides most of everything, I hear him moving around as he uses the bathroom and then washes his hands. I cleanse my face and tie up my hair with a spare bow I keep in here all the time before he slips in behind me.

My heart patters when his arms slip around my waist and his cock hits my ass.

“Jaxson…”

“I know,” he kisses my neck. “Doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy the view though.”

* * *

The week successfully passes. I text Jaxson all day, and every day. He tells me about his club meetings sometimes, but it’s vague, and I understand. This time I was firm on not seeing him though. I have to perfect my play and already have assignments to grade, just short reading quizzes. So I only call or text him, and that’s fine.

I just miss him.

His touch, his scent, his warmth… I have grown too used to it.

It was extreme toucher to have sex with him and then not see him for a while. It wasn’t even sex, it was real fucking and I never knew what that was before. All I know is that I want to have it again.

My mind drifts to the important stuff—sort of. My play was due by email Friday morning, so in afternoon workshop, the teacher hands them back. And I am floored by the first comment.

Did you write this in a day?

I make it through class, barely, until I run to the bathroom and cry for the first time in a while. It hurts more than anything I have felt in a while. I don’t understand why he would be so mean, the other workshop fellows are not even that mean. I think the professor just has something against me from the start.

I don’t know how to work through this kind of stuff, and I know for a fact Jaxson is busy, because he just told me he would be… and so I only call one other person who is my constant.

My hand goes to my phone as I sit in my car, to call my Mom.

15

Isabelle

“You never call me this time of day, honey, what’s wrong?” Mom’s voice floods the updated Bluetooth, and I immediately relax.

This isn’t the first time I have been let down, or my writing has been critiqued. But for some reason, it just hit harder. It took time for me to even brave myself into writing what I did, let alone sharing it with everyone and later the workshop professor. He is an acclaimed writer, so of course his opinion matters more than anything. And I am really taking it to heart. Perhaps my period is coming up, or something.

“I know, I just wanted to talk to you. How are you?” I force some cheer into my voice.

“Oh I’m good honey, I took a day off to go to the spa.” She giggles. She has always been so light and free, despite all her struggles. She has been my inspiration for everything because she is also all that I have, most days.

“That’s good. Maybe I should do that soon.” I have a sudden urge to tell her all about Jaxson, too. Talking about him with Riley will be awkward now, since she has heard us fucking. Vividly. The next morning was mortifying. She waited for me in the kitchen, laughing when I appeared and mimicking everything I said. At some point she grabbed headphones, but even then—

“What’s wrong? You know I can hear it in your voice.”

I force a laugh, “What? Nothing.” All of a sudden, I don’t want to tell her anything about it now, it’s weird. I was ready to cry and whine, but it seems worthless now. Mom can’t rewrite the play for me, she can’t change John’s mind.

“Isabelle, I’m your mother.”

“I know.” I fiddle with a frayed string on my jeans, my yellow polish from last night has already chipped and my fingers shake. “I just got some feedback on my play and… it wasn’t good.”

“The one from last year?”

“No um, we had to write an original one as assignment this week. And the workshop went okay, but my teacher didn’t like it. At all. His first comment was asking if I had written it in a day.” I scoff. I almost roll my eyes, but it hurts more than that. I feel my pout coming on and shove it from my mind.

I know that all I can do is move forward and improve my work, at the possibility of him not liking that either. But at least I would have tried.

“Oh honey, you know those artsy people are subjective. He probably said the same thing to someone else. Plus, you always kept talking about how hard the program is, how advanced it is. So this will come with that.”

“You’re right.” I sigh. I did say that, over and over. I’m sure she memorized it word for word, and she’s right.

“So just work on it and see what happens. Besides, who the hell can write a good play in less than a week? That’s ridiculous.” She exclaims. I laugh once, finding it easy to smile. I feel lighter already.

“Apparently John can.”

She laughs once, “See, just do your best and that’s all you can do and love your work. It will be fine.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

“Of course. Now, to important stuff—”

I groan because I already know what she is going to say and she erupts in laughter.

“Have you found any hot Minnesota men up there?”

I giggle, “Um…” and trail off. I can’t lie to her. But I don’t know if I can tell her all about Jaxson. About how he’s in an MC and could possibly be a criminal of some sort but not really. Or about how he fucks like a delicious maniac. Mom is cool, but not that cool. At least I don’t think. Jason was very boring, it was easy to talk about him and how he had sex with his socks still on. But Jaxson… I won’t be able to hide how crazy I am about him. How much I think about him, and worry, and want to be with him.

“Fine, you don’t have to tell me. I will come to visit though, maybe you can make me a Thanksgiving dinner? You know I can’t cook.”

“Maybe, if I’m not doing something else with school or something. You know I don’t get real holiday breaks like in undergrad.”

She sighs, “Yes, I know.”

I talk with her about a few other things before I let her go back to her spa day or whatever she was doing. I feel better than I was when I busted out of the building. I almost wish I could go back to ask John what he was talking about, but he is probably gone and probably doesn’t want to hear from me anyway.

Instead I start up the engine and take off for a much-needed trip to the grocery store. We are low on food, and house supplies like paper towels and such. It’s one of those local shops since there aren’t many chains here in town. I recognize the road, it’s close to the MC, and I feel close to Jaxson. I know he is busy though, and I don’t want to be clingy. Part of me thinks he might not mind, but it’s still good to keep my distance.

I feel like I always do that. He’s asked me about my dad when we talk on the phone, but I avoid it. And my relationships in the past. He has been open about his. He has just never been in one, his body count isn’t over the top but he has one. And he has also been through some stuff with the club, which is fine. He is honest with me, and I know I have to return the favor.

I am looking at pre packaged flowers when a bad feeling clouds over me.

“How about I buy those sweets for you, little miss?” the voice is hard, and deep; but not like Jaxson’s. It has a roughness to it that sends hot chills down my spine.

“No thank you.” I mutter back, sliding down the aisle. I grip my purse tightly where it rests on the shopping cart. My palms turn a hot sweaty mess, but I tighten them on the handle.

“Come on. Or let me buy you dinner—maybe go straight to dessert?” he puts his hand on my shoulder and I whip around, his face is nice, sure, but there is evil in his eyes that boils under my skin.

“I said no thank you.”

“You got a boyfriend or something?”

“Yes, in fact I do.” Of course I haven’t confirmed that fact, but he doesn’t know that. I’ll say I’m fucking married to get this guy off my tail.

He flashes a crooked smile, his eyes roaming down my body. He has a build to him, but not like Jaxson or any of the other guys at the club. He is dressed in jeans and a gray hoodie, and he looks like a regular guy except for a fading bruise on his jaw. Maybe he is a boxer or ran into a wall. I don’t know.

“I can take him, or he doesn’t have to know.”

I scoff, suddenly able to stand up to him, my hands dry and my heart calms down. I wish someone would walk down the aisle, but apparently no one wants pre-packaged desserts.

“Jaxson Kinsmen isn’t the kind of guy you take.” I say with confidence. Because, it’s true. I’ve seen him drag two men out of the club, I have seen him drag me out of the club.

I get out of my own head and watch the guy’s expression. It goes from creepy and leering to… to scared. His blue eyes widen and then he takes a step back.

“Shit. I’m sorry, miss—I didn’t know.”

I try not to show my confusion, so it doesn’t let him off. I keep my face in a frown and stare him down. he swallows and opens and closes his mouth a few times. He raises his hand in defense and backs away.

“Look don’t mention this to him, alright? It was a mistake.” He looks at me one last time and doesn’t wait for me to agree before he runs off.

I let out a hard breath, running my hand across my forehead as I calm my breathing.

That was eventful.

* * *

I make it home in good time, just before five. Riley will get home late, since she is the only manager tonight. I decide I might make myself dinner, but then the idea of cooking and cleaning stirs me away. I pop in one of the frozen dinners I got, packed with sodium, I start to understand why I feel a bit heavy sometimes.

Anyway, I pack away the stuff and then go to change from the day. Riley and I switch off on groceries, and always end up paying the same amount. It is much easier than trying to coordinate and go at the same time. She knows I don’t make much though, only my stipend from school as a teaching assistant.

Once I change and plop in front of the television with my microwaved fried chicken and mashed potatoes, my phone goes off. I even set a ring tone for him and feel lame, but it doesn’t really matter when I see Jaxson come up on the screen.

“Hello?” I answer and put him on speaker. I put the television on mute but still watch the Kardashians go through their drama.

“Hey, baby.” His voice floods through the speaker. Such a beautiful, honeyed mix of deep and rough; rocks clashing but gliding down a mountain. It goes right to my pussy, tightens my nipples on the way.

“Hi, what are you doing?” my voice perks.

“Dealing with some shit at the club,” he sighs and I can tell he is scratching at his jaw like he does when he is thinking. “How was your day?”

I almost forgot about my horrible feedback. “Um, could have been better.”

“Is it better now?” he asks, implying that I am talking to him.

“Yeah, much better.” I grin to myself.

“Hm. Good. You can tell me about it later, in bed. I can’t wait to see you.”

“Me too. You want to come over?” I ask him.

“Yeah, it might be late though. We have the guys at the club coming to the bar, we need to have a meeting with everyone. Bu they’ll probably bring their old ladies and turn it into a night.”

He adds that last part in cautiously. We have never had the conversation, not really, of whether or not we are in a relationship and if that makes me his old lady—I can’t remember if you have to be married for that or not. But I know that I’m not, at least not officially. And I don’t want to ask him. That classic and original fear I have always had surfaces, giving myself away only to be sent back. It is possible it might happen with Jaxson, and I am more than afraid of it.

“That’s okay. I have some work to do on my play so I’ll probably still be up.” Even if I weren’t, he is more than worth waiting up for.

“Well I was thinking you might want to come—” he says slowly, I am not used to his voice being cautious at times, so it’s an interesting thing. I am silent for a moment, shocked and over thinking things. Is he asking me to go as his old lady? Or just to go in general? I keep thinking it over until my head hurts.

“I do… what time?” I finally say, forcing myself to be nonchalant or relaxed.

He blows out a breath and seems to move to a quieter area, because I can hear him a little better.

“Around eleven we’ll probably be wrapped up. I’ll be stuck here though.”

“I can drive myself though, it’s not a big deal.”

I hear him smile, “Okay, good.”

I smile back to myself, too. He sounds so happy, and I am still not used to people being happy to see me. Happy to be around me or to talk to me.

“What are you doing?” he asks suddenly, after a bit of silence.

“I thought you had a meeting to get to.” I giggle.

“I have time.”

“Well, I am eating a frozen dinner and watching trash television.”

He chuckles once, I love when he does that. It’s so nonchalant, yet it suits him because that’s kind of how he is with that stuff. I can count on one hand how many times he has laughed. Since I haven’t seen him in a week, I don’t know about the smiling part.

“Sounds like you. Why don’t you eat real food? Every day it’s something frozen or fast.”

I laugh, “Are you telling me what to eat?”

“No, I would never do that.” He doesn’t get defensive and says simply.

“Well I never have time to cook. And when I do, I’m too lazy to do it.”

“I get it, I’m the same way. And then my mom will show up with a casserole of some sort and it’s all good.”

“Your mom lives here? How did I not know this?” I ask myself, my brows come together as I try to think.

“I think I mentioned, you might have fallen asleep before I knew though.”

I laugh, “Yeah, phone calls make me sleepy.”

“I thought I would keep you awake.” He states.

“You do, you have your moments.”

“My brother Simon meal preps, you should try that.” He suggests with humor in his tone.

“Yuck. Sounds too Pintrest to me.”

“Too what?” he asks, his tone makes me smile.

“Nothing. Don’t worry about it.” I laugh.

“So, I had something weird happen today, it’s part of why I called you. Among other things.”

“Okay, what was it?” I eat my last bite and put the plastic container on the coffee table, then I drink down my water, when he starts explaining I almost spit it out.

“I had a guy call me, an old prospect. He asked me if I was seeing a ‘brown haired girl, pretty hot’ I didn’t really say anything, and then he hung up.” Jaxson lets out a sigh, then he waits for my answer.

Nothing has happened except for that guy at the grocery store, but I don’t know if it’s him. Anyone could have been asking him that.”

“Um… what did he look like?” I ask.

“What happened, Isabelle?” Jaxson hardens his voice, and it almost scares me, even though I know his anger isn’t directed at me. I know how protective he is. He was like that before he even met me, officially, telling me to get the hell out of the club just to protect me from what he foresaw happening to me.

Now that he knows me, and has had me, claimed me as his in his mind… I don’t even want to know what he might do.

“I don’t know, it could be unrelated.”

“Isabelle.” He practically growls.

I swallow hard and lick my lips as I slump on the couch.

“This guy at the grocery store tried to ask me out, I said no. He had asked me if I had a boyfriend and I just said that I did so he would leave me alone. I mentioned your name and he backed off just like that.” I snap my fingers. It is weird now that I think of it as it happened. The look on his face when he heard Jaxson’s name is unforgettable.

I didn’t know Jaxson was that known or respected, or feared… either one had that guy pale and blabbering.

“He had asked me not to tell you, I don’t know why. And he had this ugly healing bruise on his jaw.” I sigh. Thinking that identification will rule him out but it only makes Jaxson curse angrily.

“Fuck. Yeah, that’s him.”

“Well it isn’t a bad thing, I don’t think. He left me alone as soon as I mentioned your name.” I explain. I don’t know why it sounds like I am trying to defend him, but I just don’t want Jaxson flying off the handle for some man who doesn’t even matter.

“Yeah well, he would have.”

I take a long pause, wondering if I even want to ask him this. I know it might lead to an answer I don’t like, but it will be an answer, nonetheless.

“Why? Why would he back off that easily?” I ask, with major caution.

Jaxson sighs, avoiding the answer. I can hear him thinking on the other end and get more afraid of the answer before it even comes.

“You know why.” He finally says, but it was so evasive that it does nothing while he thinks it can do everything.

“Jaxson, I don’t.” I respond, trying not to be difficult. But I hear the pleading in my voice more than anything else. I have only now wondered what he does, how dangerous he can be… who he might really be.

“Isabelle, don’t worry yourself about this—”

“I do worry. Jaxson, I know you’re not a bad guy. But if you’ve done bad things then I deserve to know, you can’t just keep me in the dark and let strange men hit on me and then run away at the mention of your name.” I start to get angry, more freaked out.

“How do I know you don’t have enemies, that won’t try to get back at you, by going through me? I don’t. So you can at least tell me why this particular guy was ready to grope in a grocery store but didn’t know right from left once I said your name.” I let it all out in almost one breath, and take a huge deep breath afterwards.

I hear silence on his end, and then only his breathing.

“He was the prospect that got in a fight at the club that night we met.”

I sigh, that isn’t that bad. He made it seem so much worse.

“I told him not to come around or go near the club, that I never wanted to hear his name again. Or I would end him.” He adds simply, like it’s after the fact, an afterthought.

“Oh. Okay.” I nod to myself.

He clears his throat and I can tell he is moving around again. He must be at the club or something,

“That isn’t that bad, but what about the others?” I ask.

“The others?”

“Yeah. Other people that might have pissed you off and you’ve gone after. With the club and everything… aren’t you worried all your enemies might catch up to you?” I ask him, with caution in my voice yet again. I keep getting worried that he will end the conversation at any point and shut me out, because he was like that at first. But it is ironic that what I fear the most with him is the same thing that I do to him. If he finds out about my past, I am worried that he won’t agree with it.

After a long pause, I hear his breathing again, he says my name with so much pain that I don’t recognize it. I don’t see how he might be able to sound anything but, and I wish we weren’t having this conversation over the phone, I wish he were right in front of me so I could hold him, look in his eyes and hold his gaze. I feel his pain, even this far away, and it seems that I keep forgetting how intense our connection is. How fast and consuming it is.

“I don’t have any enemies, Isabelle, because they’re all dead.”

It is hard for me to respond because I know I don’t have the right thing to say. He was honest, so I can’t discount that by saying just anything. And I know that I shouldn’t.

“Jaxson… you don’t have to worry about—I won’t judge you.” I finally say, it seems right. It seems good enough. I close my eyes, wishing he was here, wishing that I could look at him and assure him with a hug or a kiss. My voice isn’t that convincing, if I were writing this down, than sure.

“You should be.”

“I don’t though, and you can’t force me to.” I say firmly.

“I’m not, just… I’m not used to anyone accepting me like this, okay?”

“Well, I’m not either.”

“You haven’t done what I have. It’s different.”

“I know, Jaxson. All I’m saying is that it doesn’t matter.”

“Okay,” he sighs. “Thanks, baby.”

I swell at his pet name for me, they’ve never been used on me so I am not used to it at all. I smile softly to myself and take a deep breath. That was a conversation I was not prepared for.

“Yeah, of course.”

“Okay, I definitely have to go into this meeting now, but I will see you later. If you don’t see me when you come in, just ask anyone for me and they’ll come get me.”

“Okay, I’ll see you later.”

“Be careful.” He says before he hangs up. In my head, he might as well have said that he loves me, but that’s way too soon and I know that, I’m just imagining things though.

I spend a bit more time on the couch before I move to the desk in my bedroom to look over all the notes on my play. It is probably a bad idea, but I have to get through it at some point, and it will be better to do it before I see Jaxson, so if I drive myself mad I can just look in his eyes and be grounded again.

But John wasn’t as bad as I thought. It was just the first summary of notes that floored me.

He gave detailed feedback and seemed to care a lot about the story. I have never written anything like it, or anything in the genre before, so to have done well enough to get real feedback, is like a new day for me. I’m more than ready now, to take apart the play and make it better.

If I start, I may be trapped to the desk all day.

So I just look over the notes and make a document of all the things I’ll use on a separate document, then I start to get ready. I was in a rush in the morning and didn’t get to shower, Jaxson kept me up all night, and so I go to shower, thinking about what I will wear while I’m in there.

The club is weird to me, I don’t know what to wear. I can wear regular club clothes but it isn’t a regular club, I can’t wear regular bar clothes either. When I get out and dry off, I pick some of my best lingerie and then wear my tightest pair of jeans, a cropped sweater and jean jacket, and a brown pair of knee-high boots. I check myself in the mirror and decide that I look decent enough.

I brush out my wavy hair and touch up with light makeup and decent enough lipstick, it’s a light color so it looks like my lips are just accentuated. Jaxson apparently likes when I wear anything, so I’m not too worried in that department. It’s the others that I’m worried about. I don’t know if he is introducing me to everyone, and how he might do it, but if he does, I want to make him look good. I want to be the best old lady in the room, for Jaxson.

* * *

The drive is long, filled with my nerves and unease. I pull up to the entrance of the club and find it lined with bikes. All Harleys, I think, big and small, customized and just ordinary. I can easily pick Jaxson’s out because of the president logo he has on it. I park by other cars, people who must have driven themselves or didn’t ride on the back of bikes.

As soon as I cut my engine, I hear the loud music. And the closer I get to the door, the sounds of bargoers alike, music, glasses clinking together, chairs scraping. I walk into the smell of beer and salt of peanuts and possibly fries, I have no idea what might be in the back. It smells old, but like it has character, and I am seeing it in such a different light than the firs time. Without Riley, and without being worried of what I would see.

I hug my purse tight to my side and start to feel the roving eyes. It seemed that before Jaxson, I didn’t feel this way. I didn’t feel when eyes were on me until his were. And so many are. The club members are easily recognizable because of their cuts, and an aura around them that screams possibly dangerous biker.

Some of them are young, maybe my age or in their thirties, and others are older, pushing gray hair and wrinkles. I stop by the bar for a drink, for some courage to go up to Jaxson when I see him in front of all these people. It’s packed and it takes a bit for me to get a simple vodka cran. It is simple enough for me to down and not take too long.

“Hello miss,” a man says to me, but it’s friendly. I look up to one of the older guys who has a kind smile, and a cut that looks decades old.

“Hi.”

“I hope you aren’t here alone.” He says in a way that reminds me of what my dad might have sounded like, or a big brother. I take my drink and pay the bartender, who also looks familiar in the face but I can’t place why. He has a cut on too.

“No, I’m meeting someone—my boyfriend.” I say. Worried, that he is in the club too and will know Jaxson.

“Is he in the club?” he asks curiously, he seems nice enough so I keep talking to him.

“Uh, yeah. I don’t know where he is though.” I decide not to tell him his name, just in case it doesn’t turn out well for me.

“Oh, nice. They’re good guys, the MC members. Don’t let them intimidate you.” He winks and walks away, and for some reason I feel like I just talked to my guardian angel.

When I finish my drink, I figure I waited long enough. I texted Jaxson that I was here, but he didn’t respond yet. The bartender comes back around and I figure he might know.

“Hey, I’m looking for Jaxson, have you seen him?” I shout over the loud music and he has to lean in close.

He smells of leather and cologne, and alcohol. His eyes are so familiar and I don’t know why, even the shape of his jaw. He has this permanent crooked smile that only widens.

“A bit too much, yeah.”

I make a face and he explains.

“He’s my brother. I’m Zeke,” he holds out his hand and I shake it. “Last I saw him, he was in the billiard room. Right back there through the left.”

“Thanks.”

“Wait, who are you?” he asks as I turn on my heel. I open my mouth to answer but it doesn’t come through. I don’t know if Jaxson has told his brothers about me and I don’t want to accidentally do it for him.

“Um, Isabelle.”

He flashes that grin again and it only makes me smile back, of course he is obviously hot in that obvious, boyish way, but I only have eyes for Jaxson. I leave the bar before he can question me and I feel him staring after, probably planning to ask Jaxson when he sees him.

I weave through the crowd, spotting women all dressed differently. It is interesting to see who is obviously with someone, the way the women hang onto the men but they hold them back close to them, or always seem to keep one eye on them. And then there are the ones who are trying to get one of the men, and have to fight for their attention in an obvious way. They are also dressed less modestly.

I seem to find where the billiard room is and turn a sharp corner, I smile when I see Jaxson but am floored when I find out where he is.

His back is to me, at first, but then a giggle comes out and he is turned to he side, and a woman appears; she’s… glaringly sexy. Tall, lithe, with ample ass and tits and a tight dress on. The way she touches his arm and leans in close to him makes me sick. But I still don’t know what’s going on.

She gasps, “Jaxson,” and I hold back a growl. I plan to just turn around and leave, but hit a kink in the ground that makes me stumble, and my heels hit the ground to announce me.

Both their eyes whip towards me, I ignore the woman’s but Jaxson has a hard look that later widens. But I turn and dash out of there before I can see anything else.

16

Jaxson

“You know Stacy is in the back.” Zeke whips past me on his way to the bar. He has to bartend tonight since the others decided against it.

“Fuck.”

I walk back there, not expecting what happened. Stacy is an old… fling. She would come into town and we would get together sometimes, but it has been a good two years since she came here, and I’ve forgotten about her.

She is hot in the obvious way, but not beautiful like Isabelle. I keep wondering when she will get here, I’m antsy to see her, especially after our conversation today. But I have to deal with Stacy first. I find her and tell her that we can’t be together anymore, that whatever we did or didn’t have is over.

But she doesn’t hear it, not at first, and she says my name like she still knows me.

Then my heart sinks in my chest when I find out that Isabelle saw. I don’t know how much, or what of.

“I have to go.” I move away from Stacy and towards the door, she grabs onto my cut and it draws me back. I’m starting to get to where I am not above putting my hands on a woman.

“Jaxson, wait, I just wanted to tell you that I’m getting married.”

“What the fuck?” I turn back to look at her, seconds are ticking by and Isabelle is getting farther away. I wanted to have a nice fun night with her, show her around to my brothers, both real and in the club, but not Stacy is ruining everything.

“Yeah um, next month. It’s in the town over so if you want to come, you can. And I guess that’s your girlfriend?”

I nod.

“She’s pretty. They should all come, if you want. Anyway I just wanted to tell you that, I felt like we were friends. Sort of.”

“Yeah. Sure.” I stay stone faced and face her, watching her smile as she shakes her head.

“You haven’t changed, Jax. See you.” She brushes by me and then she is gone.

I stand in a bit of shock, and then I get to trucking after Isabelle, ignoring shouts from the guys on my way out.

I get outside just in time to see her sedan pull off the drive way and onto the main road. I run to my bike and start after her, barely remembering the way to her place. I know it’s hidden between two buildings, and am just as desperate as last time to get to her.

I pull up and still feel the heat of her car, so she must have just arrived. I dash up the stairs to her second floor apartment and bang on the door.

“Isabelle,” I pound on the door.

I hope she didn’t take things out of proportion, I hope she trusts me more than that and will let me explain myself. But after today… she might use this as her way out. I don’t know how much she likes me, or if she feels the same way. But I think about her all the fucking time and it hurts to be away from her, it hurts not to see her.

I was so close tonight after what seemed like forever, and then she was just gone. I pound on the door again.

“Isabelle,” I shout again.

Eventually, the patter of her footsteps come to the door, she swings it open and it is like a breath of fresh air. I inhale it deeply, I take all of her in.

She has tight jeans on, and an orange crop top with lines down the front that make her breasts look even bigger, her abdomen is tucked into her jeans and her creamy skin peeks through. My cock twitches on contact until I see her face, pained and confused.

“It’s not what you think, baby. Let me explain.”

Her grip tightens on the door until she stands aside and lets it open. I walk in, smelling the scent of her and her apartment. I follow her until she stops at her kitchen. She seemed to be making herself a drink and finishes up, it’s yellow in color and she sips at it until I talk.

“I use to know Stacy…”

“You used to have sex?”

I nod.

“Yeah. I haven’t seen her in two years. She was only coming by to tell me she was getting fucking married.” I slap my hands against my pants. The irritation builds inside of me and I take off my cut, laying it on the back of the chair.

She sits on her kitchen counter and swings her legs, her bare feet are crossed and painted yellow to match her nails. It reminds me of how much she has been like a light in my life, undeniably bright. I don’t want to lose her over stupid shit.

“She looked friendly.” She sips more of her drink, the ice clinks in the silent room.

“Yeah, she likes that. But it was nothing. I’m not interested in that shit anymore.” I see the apprehension on her face and exhale deeply.

I scratch my face and step closer to her. I stop where my cock brushes her knee and she looks into my eyes, so close yet so far.

“You know I planned how I would introduce you to everyone tonight. I was going to show you to Zeke first, because he’s goofy as shit and would make you comfortable, before you met the rest of my brothers, and the rest of the club.” I try to smile, but it doesn’t come through. My lips twitch and I wait for her response.

She sets her drink down and then licks her lips softly. I want to do the same to her, I want to kiss her so badly because it has been so long.

“I met Zeke. When I got a drink at the bar.” She says softly. I hate how sad she sounds, but it has seemed to get better. “You look alike.”

That makes me grin, “He’s the better looking one, or so I have heard.” I chuckle.

“No, I don’t think so.” she giggles once, and I know that I have got her.

I run my hand up her thighs and she relaxes, breathing out through her parted lips. She opens her legs so I can step between them, and I do, sliding her down so her heat can touch my cock, growing by the second.

“I’m so fucking sorry, Isabelle.” I exhale. I raise my hands to cup her face and bring her lips to me.

“I know.” she murmurs.

I can’t wait any longer.

My lips crash to hers in a fury, and she returns it.

I coax my lips around hers and she responds immediately, her lips closing around mine. I feel all of me seeping into her, all of the time we have missed, everything that I thought I lost. I grip her ass and drive her over my cock, rubbing against the fabric until she moans. She grips my shoulders over my shirt, then rises up and threads her fingers in my hair until she scratches my scalp. I groan and it sends sensations down my back and to my cock.

I get so hard for her, it almost hurts. I’ve jacked off to the thought of her every night, coming harder than I ever have. But I just want to be inside her again, I have to be. I trial my hands up to finger her soft skin, her delicious smooth back glides under my fingers and I don’t let her go.

I slide my tongue over hers, tasting the juice and alcohol of her drink and the taste of her mouth. Her breasts mash to my chest and I swear I feel her nipples hardening against me. I want to feel her against my chest again, feel her clit pulse and her nipples harden.

She has an amazing body but she is so easily responsive to me, that it turns me on more than anything in the world. I grip her ass and she moans, I rub her breasts and she mewls, I bite down on her lip and she squeals. And I know she is as wet as can be right now, but I wait until I just can’t take it just to prolong the chase.

“Jaxson—I fucking missed you.” She exhales against my lips. I bring my lips down her neck and bite her, I want to eat this girl alive over and over.

“I missed you too. So fucking much.”

I shove my hands under her shirt, almost ripping the fabric, and am pleased to find her bare underneath. Her breasts are warm under my fingers, the swells so low I dip my fingers under and slide over her soft, perfect skin. My cock trembles, begging for contact from her.

“You are fucking perfect, Isabelle. You know that?” I look back to look in her eyes, she blinks in shock and I hold her gaze as I grip both her breasts, and her eyes widen as I watch her pupils dilate.

“I think about you, all the time. I don’t go to sleep without stroking myself, thinking of you.” I practically growl, she makes me an animal, and I enjoy it.

Sometimes I force the contact, the passion, but with her it is everywhere and too much at he same time.

“I touch myself too.” She whispers.

“Fuck, baby,” I bite my lip, thinking of her touching her perfect pussy, thinking of me.

“You imagine it’s me?” I roll my thumb over her nipple and she groans.

“Yes… I do.” Her head lolls back but I jerk her so she will look at me.

“I’m going to fuck you on this counter. You ready?”

She gasps, her eyes boring into mine, “Yes.”

17

Jaxson

Isabelle is so slick against my fingers, I fight not to lose my grip on her. It isn’t that difficult, since I don’t want to let her go, ever. I need her more than I need air. Those few minutes between her running out of the club and having to go after her, thinking that I lost her, were crippling.

I never thought I needed her the way I do now, that I would never need anyone that way.

I kiss her just to make that fact known to both of us, I don’t think I could ever tell her honestly about how I feel, I never have before. I only tighten my lips around her supple plush pillows of skin and dart my tongue against hers. I pause only to rip her jeans down her body and expose her, the scent of her arousal fills the air and wraps me in a cocoon I could never try to escape.

“Jaxson…” she breathes, her cheeks have flushed pink, trailing down to her neck. She is so wet she slides on the counter and I hold her in place as I turn my attention back to her.

An overwhelming need to taste her comes over me, I drop to my knees and spread her legs apart, grabbing onto her deliciously soft and full thighs. I love her body, it’s fucking perfect, all I want is to be pressed up against it forever.

“Oh god…” she moans under her breath as my lips brush her center, her clit throbs under my tongue and I start to fully eat her pussy, taking time as I lap up her juices and suckle her folds.

Just when I think she is at her max, she gushes even more beneath me, and my cock hardens in response. I hold her tighter, feeling her fall over the edge as her gasps grow closer together, louder until they fill the room. I love how loud she is, how real she is, when she comes I feel it inside myself. She clutches my hair so tight, her nails dig into my scalp but I welcome the sting.

I kiss back up her body, rising to meet her lips and kiss her so she can taste herself on me. I drop my pants as she tugs my shirt off, and I look right into her widened eyes.

“Hold on, baby.”

I’m glad I don’t have to use a condom, being able to feel all of her clenching me is a blessing. I feel like I will come undone at first contact; she is so tight and hot, I lose my fucking mind. The way she moans against me, clutching me close. Her nails rake down my front, over the midline of my abs and every section, I get shivers as I sink inside of her, and just remain there. To feel her, to feel myself falling into her.

I pull my hand back just to cup her face. I like to be rough with her, it’s how I am, but I want to show her how much she means to me, how sweet she is.

She deserves the tenderness I don’t think I can give her.

I cup her face, my thumbs grazing the edges of her lips as her hot breath fans across it.

She trembles, her fingers fanning down to my Adonis belt, waiting there as she pulses. It feels like her heart beat is inside her pussy and I feel every hit of it, over and over. For a moment, I just stare into her eyes. Chocolate pools of perfect browns, wide and waiting for me, staring into my dark eyes. Even though she has given me light.

“Fuck me Isabelle, you’re so damned beautiful.” I breathe, my voice deep and raspy, covered by the desire she gives me.

She smiles softly, but still looks like she is in disbelief. I push into her farther, she gasps and at the same time, it parts her lips for me to kiss her. The tip of my cock reaches her depths and I close my lips around hers, suckling her bottom lip as my tongue crosses hers.

Her taste is so sweet, so succulent, and it almost drives me to the edge again. I rock my hips to meet her deeper, and her legs part for me even more, she gushes even more. The kiss is slow, and I’m surprised that I let her keep the pace. She passes her arms up my body again, her warm palms covering the muscles of my arms and neck before reaching my face, holding me so tenderly I never even thought it was possible. Her lips are soft and tender, cautious even, that I am letting her keep the pace. She moves so that her hips meet mine and I pound into her faster, hitting her deeper and harder each time. She moans against me, muffled by my lips. Her tongue swipes over mine each time and I turn my head into her.

Isabelle does this over and over, until the kiss breaks for her to breathe. I get to hold her gaze for a few seconds before I grab at her fleshy hips and go to fucking town. I just lose it around her, moreso than normal. Before I would be rough and fast just because I wanted to get out of there—but now I just want to claim her and own her, so I can do it all over again and see how many times I can do it.

She starts to moan until she just out right shrieks, unable to carry her breath long enough. I tug at her shirt, accidentally ripping it and exposing her breasts in one swift movement. They’re smooth, heavy, outright delicious, her nipples are hardened pebbles and my thrusts shake her breasts up and down, bobbing just how I like to see them. She leans back onto the counter, after she just can’t take it anymore, and rests on her elbows. Her full lips are parted and her body is covered in a delicious sheen of sweat.

Her breath kicks up when I reach out and grab her left breast, pinching and rolling her nipple between my fingers.

The sound of me thrusting hits the room and is permanently etched in my brain, mixed with her moans and the way she cries out for me.

The way she says my name like a breath she has to hold onto. Like something she needs to survive… I want to say her name the same way and so I do, I don’t even have to try.

My balls tighten up inside, my cock hardening to its limit as I feel my release coming. I realize she hasn’t come to hers yet, and I am probably going too fast for her to. I slow only a little bit, and rub against her clit with my thumb. Her moans turn to ones of surprise to pleasure, drawing out as I feel her fall closer and closer, then see her breath fail as she falls into it.

As she does, I return to my original pace and pound faster than ever, tasting the edge of my orgasm before it comes. I come into her harder than I did before, pulsing longer than I am used to and my knees almost go weak.

I draw her up to meet me as I kiss her, my hands appreciate every curve of her body as I kiss her, and empty the last of myself inside her.

“God, Jaxson, you are an animal.” She smiles her wry smile, the same one I see in the mornings when we facetime and she is still half asleep.

I grin back at her, “I know.” I kiss her again, my lips swiping over hers, more relaxed, as I slip out of her. I know we have probably made a mess of the counter but there is nothing I can do about that now.

“I hate to do this…” I glance at the clock on the microwave in her kitchen.

“You have to go?” she finishes.

I nod, not even wanting to let her go. I don’t even move to get dressed.

“I’m sorry. I just got some stuff to deal with at the club, I have to go back.”

She sighs, “I’m sorry I ruined the night for you.” She glances down.

I lift her chin up to me with my finger, “No, don’t apologize for how you felt. I understand.”

“You don’t think I’m your crazy girlfriend?” she widens her eyes in shock, “Um, I mean… not that I’m assuming we are together, I just—”

I cover her mouth and grin.

I chuckle, “Isabelle, of course you’re my girl.” I kiss her to make it true, when I pull back, she smiles at me and I want to paint it in my memories forever.

“Hey maybe I’ll come back, okay? Just depends how long they keep me.”

She nods, “Okay.”

I take one last good look at her before I go to clean up, she meets me by the door half-dressed and then I kiss her once more before I leave.

* * *

The sun hits my face when I wake up, Zeke left my bedroom curtains open and its why I don’t like having my brothers over. They just make a mess and leave it that way, but they’re family so it isn’t like I can do anything about it.

The first thing I do is roll over to check my phone, I have two missed calls from Simon and that means he has news. I went back to the club for almost three hours last night, talking with all the members and then just the exces. We all came to the same, divided conclusion. I cut the meeting and decided we should meet today when we have clear heads void of alcohol.

I figure I should have a clear head too before I check my phone, so I leave it on the side of the bed and sit up to stretch. I scratch my chest without a shirt, and look down to see where Isabelle left marks on my skin. I wondered how and why I woke up so calm when I know the club is stressing me out and shit, and it’s because of her. Not just fucking her brains out last night, but being around her. Going after her showed me how much I need her. I already have morning wood. But the thought of her gets me hard as a rock, tenting my sleeping boxers.

“Fuck.” I’d be too distracted to even start my day. I lay back down and pull my cock out, stroking my self to the thought of her. I want to sleep in the same bed as her, just to see how she looks when she wakes up, so I can roll over and fuck her first thing in the morning.

I imagine her pert breasts, her rosy nipples hard and ready for me to bite. The way they bounce as I fuck her, even move on their own just from how big they are. And that round ass of hers, the best I have ever seen. I stroke myself harder, using the moisture leaking from my tip to move easier. My hips rise to meet my hand as I continue, her name on the edge of my lips before I come against my boxers. Yet another pair she has made me ruin.

I take a few deep breaths before I get up to piss and shower, then brush before I make breakfast for myself. Only after I do that, am I in the mind set to call Simon back.

“I’m at a site.” He answers.

I roll my eyes at him. He has this complex about him because he is the only one that goes to work everyday. The club is my job, I get paid based on fees and prospects, stuff at the bar, but I’m not a wealthy guy, I don’t need to be. For some reason, Simon needs that to tell himself he is worth something. I don’t know if that’s the case, but that’s what it feels like.

“What did you call me for at seven in the morning? Twice.” I growl.

“I talked to my guy in city hall, it doesn’t look good.”

I hear someone call his name in the background and figure he really is at a site right now.

“I gotta go, I’m coming by the club later.” And with that he ends the call. Later could be an hour or ten at night. I thought we had a breakthrough, but I guess this is just how he turned out to be, and I didn’t notice. Like dad did, too busy at the club.

I set my phone down and shag my dishes. I have dozens to do but I just haven’t felt like doing it.

In just my gray sweatpants, I walk around my small house to sit in the living room. I figure if I have to run myself crazy, trying to figure out how to save the club later, then I need the energy to do it. I turn on the television to an old biker show that is incredibly unrealistic. Or maybe I am biased.

I know Isabelle isn’t busy today, but I also know she likes to sleep in. I just really want to hear her voice… fuck it. I call her up and she doesn’t answer until almost the last ring.

“Hey,” she whispers. I know she is sleepy and trying to sound like she isn’t.

“Hey baby, you asleep? I didn’t mean to wake you.” Even though I totally did.

“No, that’s okay. I’ve decided I need to wake up earlier these days.” She yawns and I grin to myself at her cuteness.

“Hmm, it’s nice. You get to see the sun at its highest, have more time in your day.”

“Mmm. Or take a nap.” I hear her stretching out on the bad and imagine what she might be wearing or what she looks like.

“You’re ridiculous… what do you have planned for today?” I ask her.

She giggles, “Um, Riley and I are going out. Shopping or something.”

“Who is Riley?” I ask, I can’t tell if it’s a guy’s name or a girl’s name.

“My roommate, I’ve lived with her for a while. I guess you’ve never really met her. I don’t think you would want to anyway.”

“Why do you say that?” I ask her, half way offended for not knowing why.

“Because, you don’t seem like much of a people person, Jaxson.” I hear her get up and pad around her room. It’s small, as are her feet, she just walks very heavily.

“Well, you got me there.” I agree.

“See?”

“But she’s your roommate, and your friend? If I’m going to be in your life, I should meet her.”

“Okay.” She says, and she sounds so happy, I’m glad I said it.

Even though she was right. I don’t like people. I don’t like having to explain to them who I am or what I do and then watching the flash of judgment cross their faces. And even worse, watching them try to hide it from me as if it doesn’t mean anything. I never had to do that with Isabelle and I realize it is why she means so much to me. She never judged me or tried to change me, tried to tell me what to do. She has only been there for me, a voice of reason that I have needed. Of course I had Mom for that before but it was different, she has to. Isabelle never had to.

“You can come over tonight, when we get back. If you aren’t doing something at the club.”

“I shouldn’t be.”

“Good,” there is some background noise for a while until she settles in. It’s the good thing about being on the phone with her. We can just be doing other things and knowing that she is on the other line is enough for me.

“Do you have to go back to the club today.”

I sigh deeply, “Yeah, actually. I’ve got to hold a meeting.” It reminds me to text the guys and tell them. Back in Dad’s day, they would just ride around to each other’s houses until they are on the road together headed back to the club.

“You sound so official.”

“I guess I am. Why do you like that kind of thing?” I turn it back on her, grinning slightly.

“Yeah, maybe I do.” She giggles.

“Then I guess I’ll have to wear my cut the next time I fuck you.” I growl at her. I swear I can feel her flushing from the other line and picture her cheeks getting all cute and rosy.

“I guess you will.” She sighs, breathless. If I have to get myself off every morning, then she should have to.

I talk to her for a few more minutes before I absolutely have to get ready to go. Being president and all, I can’t be late, plus I’m the one that told them to come.

Once I tug on my jeans and a gray hoodie, I put my cut on over it since the weather has really started to cool down. I set off for my bike, kick it into gear and take the long way to the club, just so I can feel the wind on my face and in my bones.

It relaxes me, being out on the road. The first time dad took me for a ride, I was no taller than his knee, and he made me hold on extra tight and wouldn’t go too fast, but it was still one of the best days of my childhood, that first day on the bike. I got to see what my dad loved so much, and understood it even at a young age. Now that I’ve gotten older, I only get to experience it for myself. It brings me closer to dad, now that he’s gone. This is the first crisis I have had to endure without him, and it must be why it is so hard for me to get through it.

Dad isn’t here to save me and I can’t even save my own club—his club. It can’t be a failure, it would be my greatest failure and the only one that I would remember. So I have to fight like hell, no matter what it takes. Even if it means—

“Drugs? Fuck no.” I bang the gavel, which I never do, but have to because the room is so loud and obnoxious.

Beast is the first one to quiet down, Walker follows suit but it is only because he just joined and probably doesn’t want to get into an argument.

It’s my brothers that are still going at it, talking directly to me.

“Come on, you know Sean and Ethan have been doing it for a while now. How do you think we got top shelf liquor? New equipment for the garage, and why they always seem to have more money than anyone else?”

“They never did it in the name of the club, though.” I tell Zeke.

“Well it worked. And it could keep the club going. One run, with a few of us working, could get us a hundred grand, easy. It’s not transport, it’s security. And we could always play dumb if we got arrested.”

I almost laugh at Zeke but manage not to. He sounds crazy, they all do.

“Sean and Ethan would have to talk to me about it, then.”

“So you’re considering this?” Simon asks. I was surprised when he showed up, but not as much as before.

He started the meeting by telling us that there is basically nothing we can do now except to pay up or lose this place.

And yeah, maybe the club could move somewhere else but if the city hates us then there is nowhere for us to go. It would be the end.

It isn’t just the club and the people. This building has been in the family for years, my family, and then the club as a whole. Losing it would be… the most painful thing I could experience.

“If it saves the club,” I sigh, already regretting it, “then yeah.”

18

Isabelle

I get to bed late because I have to clean the kitchen, and get paranoid that Riley will still be able to tell, so I end up cleaning the entire place, all the while thinking about Jaxson and the things he did to me… the things he said to me.

That man makes me so dirty I don’t even know what to do with myself. Except day dream about sucking him off and being on my knees for him—seriously, it has happened multiple times. I bet it would be way better than it was with my ex, I didn’t know anything else so I accepted his size but now I know it was subpar. Jaxson is very well endowed, no less than ten inches and it’s not like I have measured, or anything. But that must be a riveting experience, and I want it.

I eat another frozen dinner, thinking of what he said again before I got to bed. Riley gets home so late, she arrives when I am already half asleep. I figure she didn’t notice any sex smells in the kitchen, even though I feel really bad. I felt bad the first time, when I knew how loud I was being while she was trying to sleep. And now in the kitchen. I was so into it, I didn’t even think to move. The downside of having a roommate, I guess. But I know I need to update her about Jaxson at some point, she has been asking but I haven’t known what to say.

And after he said I was his girl, it just made everything better. I don’t have to imagine and guess things anymore, I know what we are and I want to stay that way. I dreamt of him, like I always do. But a more domesticated dream like of him and I living together, or me just riding on the back of his bike. In white. Crazy, I know. but it has never been like this with anyone.

The L word starts to loom in my mind and I shove it away, it can’t be that serious yet. But I feel him in my bones, I think about him all the time and I worry for him. About the things that he worries about. I want to support him, and be there for him, and he does that for me, too; even when he doesn’t understand.

It’s like I feel something inside me when I wake up on my own, and it isn’t the after shock of one of my sex toys last night, thinking of Jaxson until I fell asleep. My instinct is to roll over and go back to sleep, but I don’t. sure enough, my phone starts ringing. I assume it’s Mom, and then anyone else, before I know it is Jaxson and I answer just before it cuts off.

“Hey,” Iwhispers. I try to make my voice sound nice and less like a croaking frog like it does in the morning.

“Hey baby, you asleep? I didn’t mean to wake you.” He asks me, mock worry in his voice. He knows I hate the morning. None of my classes are until twelve.

“No, that’s okay. I’ve decided I need to wake up earlier these days.” I yawn, knowing that it is a total lie anyway.

“Hmm, it’s nice. You get to see the sun at its highest, have more time in your day.” His deep voice rasp through the phone line, almost setting me on fire this early in the morning.

I roll over onto my back and stare up at the ceiling, putting my phone on speaker.

“Mmm. Or take a nap.” I stretch out on the bed and my thin tank top stretches over my nipples, pert from the cold. It’s more of a long dress and is all I wear to sleep.

“You’re ridiculous… what do you have planned for today?” he asks me, true interest piking in his voice.

I laugh to myself, “um, Riley and I are going out. Shopping or something.” It was a fleeting conversation and I don’t even know if she was serious or not. The last thing I want to do is make plans and then cancel on her. Because I am at that point where I will spend time with Jaxson before anything else, and I know it’s bad but… it’s Jaxson.

“Who is Riley?” he asks as if I am talking about a guy or something. I know he is the jealous, protective type. It’s literally how we met. But I never thought I would have to worry about that because the men that I am around don’t find me attractive. Playwright types look for thin, conventionally pretty women to star in their plays and be their muse.

“My roommate, I’ve lived with her for a while. I guess you’ve never really met her. I don’t think you would want to anyway.”

“Why do you say that?” he asks, sounding a bit offended and I try to figure out why. It’s true.

“Because, you don’t seem like much of a people person, Jaxson.” I take the opportunity to get out of bed. I stretch out and then go to the bathroom, putting him on mute. I quickly brush my teeth and head to the living room.

“Well, you got me there.” I agree.

“See?” I smile to myself, even though I am trying to figure out what to eat for breakfast.

“But she’s your roommate, and your friend? If I’m going to be in your life, I should meet her.”

“Okay.” I sound chipper as hell and I don’t even care. It is something I have always wanted to hear from him, that he wants to be in my life. That it isn’t just phone calls and rough sex.

“You can come over tonight, when we get back. If you aren’t doing something at the club.” I suggest, though I don’t know if he will want to. I’m not sure I even want to have to entertain.

“I shouldn’t be.”

“Good,”

“Do you have to go back to the club today.” I ask him. I try to sound the least like I am trying to keep tabs on him.

He lets out a deep sigh like he is annoyed, “yeah, actually. I’ve got to hold a meeting.”

“You sound so official.” I think to myself but then realize I have said it out loud. It’s not like I can take it back though.

“I guess I am. Why do you like that kind of thing?” he sounds excited about it, and I flush deep in my cheeks. Now I’m imaging it. Him taking command and holding a meeting with a bunch of other bikers, but being the strongest and in charge. Or maybe just in his leather jacket… anything in that tight leather jacket.

“Yeah, maybe I do.” I admit and giggle nervously to quell my nerves.

“Then I guess I’ll have to wear my cut the next time I fuck you.” He growls and I swear it goes right to my clit. I even press my knees together in response, just thinking about it. I don’t think anyone should have that kind of control over my body, but he does. My pleasure and everything.

“I guess you will.” I am breathless when I respond, not knowing what else to say because I have lost all my concentration. He does that.

We talk for a little while longer until he has to go for his club meeting. He is so busy and stressed out, I worry for him.

It isn’t fair that he feels like it is all on his shoulders, but I can’t discount his feelings or tell him that it doesn’t really matter. It does. I just wish I could help him.

Instead I clear my head and venture to make breakfast. I just went shopping so I am lucky to find the ingredients for an omelet. I start on coffee and get the television going, some old biker show that before I met Jaxson, I thought was really realistic. It isn’t.

Riley comes shuffling out of her bedroom, in her gray robe and fuzzy slippers. She looks absolutely beat.

“You look beat.” I tell her aloud.

She forces a smile. “I had a long night.” She doesn’t answer me until she pours coffee and has a few sips. I thought she was ignoring me.

She sits on the island in front of the stove. I face her as I stir the eggs.

“Really? What happened?” I am just glad she didn’t sit on the counter where she normally does, because that’s where Jaxson and I had sex last night.

“Some server got in an altercation with a customer. Some pregnant lady had an allergy and the server didn’t know the steak was cooked in butter. She literally started yelling at her, and she’s only in high school, she started crying in front of everyone, it was so sad.”

“Oh no,” I gasp. Some people are just crazy. Riley sips more coffee and then nods.

“I know, I was pissed for her. There’s no reason to yell, especially since I found out she only avoids it by choice, she isn’t allergic. I resolved it but she even yelled at me and you know I can’t take yelling. Me and the server cried together.”

“Shit, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, so we stayed late at the bar drinking—not the high school girl. Just me and the bartenders and bus boys. They’re nice to me, said I am their favorite manager.” She smiles softly.

I grin at her, “You are good at your job. How did you get her to calm down?” I flip the omelet and turn it.

“I comped her meal, her husband was there the whole time and he didn’t say anything. She must be crazy.”

“Damn. Some people just shouldn’t eat out.”

“Thank you!”

We laugh together. I finish making breakfast for the both of us, and I know it’s coming before I even get halfway through my meal.

“So, how is Jaxson?”

I flush beat red and avoid looking at the counter.

“Good. Last night he said that I’m his girl,” I try not to smile but I fail. She squeezes my leg and I laugh at her.

“Oh my god. You know that means you’re like, more than his girlfriend to him? Men do that all the time. Oh and maybe you can be his old lady?” She nudges me.

I shake my head at her, all she does is grin with her whole face and laugh as her curly hair shakes.

“Maybe. I don’t know. He is having a hard time at the club and I just hope he makes it through.”

“Aw, me too. He has made you so happy. And well fucked.”

I spit my orange juice. “Shit Riley, I’m really sorry about that.” I plead. She only shakes her head and laughs.

“Please, I used to come home to my roommate literally having sex near the front door, it’s fine.”

“I still feel bad… and embarrassed.”

“Come on, don’t be embarrassed. Anyone getting sex good enough to literally shriek should not feel bad about anything. He seems to like it too.” She shrugs.

“Really?” I look at her cautiously. Riley likes to mess with me like that sometimes.

And I have been worried about Jaxson because it is obvious that he likes to have sex a certain way. It isn’t even sex, technically, it is a very rigorous fucking. I feel like he has to tug me along sometimes and is used to a woman who can be as open as he is, as vigorous.

“Yeah girl, men don’t usually moan. And he moans like the fucking titanic.”

I giggle to myself. “I guess I didn’t notice.” I wipe the last bit of egg off my plate and pop it into my mouth, the last thing I am focusing on is the flavor of it.

“I didn’t know that.”

“Well, it’s true. And the way he growls your name… oh my god. I had to stop listening before I would never be able to look you in the eye again.”

I nudge her as we laugh, “Oh shut up.” I get up and take our plates to the sink. We do this for each other sometimes, cook and then clean afterwards, and it looked like she was having a rough time, so I helped her out today.

“Are you hanging out with him today?” she asks.

“Um, I thought we were going shopping. Unless you were joking.” I talk over my shoulder at her.

“I totally wasn’t, I’m glad you remembered. I have to admit that when I first thought about you and Jaxson together that I would never see you again. And you know I can’t afford this place on my own.” She laughs.

“Aw, I’d never forget about you. You’re my only friend.” It isn’t like I have had many options. But I am usually a loner and stay that way, but for some reason I let her in.

She is honest and funny and I love living with her.

“Yay. So I just need makeup and jeans for work.”

“Sounds good to me.” I smile at her.

I finish and then we start getting ready. I pick out jeans and a pink sweater. It isn’t my favorite but I have to do laundry so it’s all I have right now. I tie my hair up in a hair tie and grab my cross body purse to meet her in the living room. I am ready before her, like always. She just checks her phone a lot while she is getting ready. The other manager where she works is incompetent, so she has to resolve a lot of issues even when she isn’t there.

“Let’s go.” She finally comes out, in leggings and a tight black sweater with high boots on.

“You look nice. Are you expecting to see someone?”

“Maybe I am.” She shrugs, knowing that I am joking. She just likes to look good.

We decide to take my car. I set off for the somehow long drive into the city to reach the mall. It’s one of the downsides, of a small town living. Everything isn’t in the town, technically.

Parking is hard, since it is close to the holidays. I start wondering what I will do for Thanksgiving this year. Sometimes Mom comes to me, wherever I am, but I want to be nice and go to her. It’s just a bit of a drive.

“I thought you went to the club last night.” Riley asks me as we walk inside to the makeup section.

“I did. I thought… something happened with Jaxson and so I left. But it was a misunderstanding.” I quickly explain. But she has questions.

“What happened?”

“I thought he was with a girl.”

“What the hell? I’ll kill him.” She wrinkles her little nose and glares at nothing.

“No, it was a misunderstanding. He was just talking to her, really. He came to find me right after and showed up at our place. I mean, I believe him. I have no reason not to.” I sigh. “I just didn’t realize I wanted him that badly.”

“Aw, it happens like that.” She sighs.

“I know.” I laugh once to myself. Even now that I am out shopping with her, I am thinking about Jaxson. How good or bad his meeting might be going. If the club is going to get shut down.

I can’t imagine what I would do, if something that has been in my family, was just in danger like that.

As if on cue, my phone buzzes with a message from Jaxson.

Jaxson: We can have dinner at your place and then head to the club.

I smile to myself, and then figure out a reply.

Isabelle: Okay.

I settle on something simple, hoping I don’t sound like I am not excited.

Jaxson: She isn’t annoying is she? Your roommate.

To that, I laugh aloud. I tell Riley as she looks at eye shadow palettes.

“So Jaxson said that he is coming over for dinner tonight to meet you.”

“Oh fun. I’ll make my special then.”

I roll my eyes at her.

Her special is spaghetti and pre-frozen meatballs.

“He also asked if you were annoying.”

She laughs aloud, “Tell him only when I have alcohol.”

I grin at her and shake my head.

Isabelle: No, she isn’t. You’ll like her.

Jaxson: Good. Can’t wait to see you.

I grin, he can be so sweet without trying.

Isabelle: Me too. Hope the meeting went okay.

Jaxson: It’s still going on, but we still don’t know what we’re going to do.

Isabelle: What are the options?

Jaxson: Illegal shit. I have to go.

I decide not to text him back, I can sense his tone sometimes and this is one of them. He doesn’t like to be bothered, not when he is thinking. And he is always cautious about the not so honest stuff the club does, I guess to keep me protected from it. But I know money like that won’t fall from a tree and that they have to get it somehow.

Riley finishes up soon, and I only buy a new shade of lipstick out of the entire day.

We arrive home and I am suddenly nervous to see Jaxson. As if it is our first date all over again. I guess, to see if he is still mad from earlier. I know it isn’t at me but it still feels like it. I just want to help, and he won’t let me in. At lest not fully.

I fix only my hair, putting a few loose waves in it and then touching up my lips with the new brown shade that I bought. It’s glossy and makes me feel cute, that’s all I can say or know about makeup.

I meet Riley back out in the kitchen who has decided to order in from the Italian place downtown.

“It’s not like he is coming for a home cooked meal.” Is her reply when I question her about it.

We stopped for beer so he would have something to drink that he likes, and we have our choice of wine. The food comes before he does, and I am starting to think he isn’t coming.

He texts me to come downstairs twenty minutes after he was supposed to come. Riley gives me a look but I ignore her. I put on my house slippers, which are fuzzy and make me look ridiculous.

I step out in to the chilly air and find him on the bottom of the steps, just ahead leaning on his bike.

“Hey, what are you doing out here? Everything is ready upstairs.”

I don’t even take him in; aside from his usual tight jeans and hoodie, with his cut on. But his silence makes me look closer. His expression is so pained it sends chills down my back from the inside. His lips are tight in a scowl, his brows so close they become one, and his eyes avoid me.

For the first time, his eyes avoid me.

“Jaxson?” I step closer, up until my body hits his and I feel his heat. He tenses, he actually tenses in front of me and I feel like I am breaking.

“I’ve been thinking… this isn’t the best idea, Isabelle. Us. Together.”

I lose my breath. Standing in one place, I can’t find it in me to breathe. I reach out for him and he winces when I grip his arm.

“What? How can you say that?” my voice is shaky, too small for me now. I force myself not to cry, to stand up and face him. But it hurts.

“I tried to pretend that I could do this, but I can’t. I don’t want a girlfriend, someone to worry about all the time. Guys like me don’t have that.”

“That’s bullshit. Look me in the eye and say that.” I say firmly. Almost every man in that club had a girlfriend when I was inside. I wish I knew why he was lying. Why he would hurt me like this.

His eyes travel up my body but instead of leaving heat, they leave cold; until he reaches my eyes.

He just looks… sad.

“I can’t… I’m no good for you.”

This time the tears come, and I can’t stop them.

“But—just today you were talking about how much you can’t wait to see me, how did you—” my hand flies to my mouth as I realize. His shoulders drag with the relief of figuring it out on my own.

He can either let the club go or save it by doing something illegal. That they could get caught for. I still cry because… I foolishly thought that I could be almost as important as the club. I know I can’t match it or beat it, but I never thought that I would get tossed aside.

“Jaxson, don’t do this… I was starting to think—I just thought we were stronger than this.”

“We are,” his voice is so deep and pained that I can’t fathom how much pain he is in. Here he is breaking up with me, and I am still worried about him. Maybe this isn’t healthy, or maybe I just—

“I’m doing this because I love you, Isabelle. And I don’t want to love you more than I love the club. Because I can’t choose you over it. I just can’t.” he turns to leave and I stop him, bracing my hands against his chest. I feel his heart flying as my tears fall, as I try to see through them.

“Jaxson, I love you too.”

He looks away as if that is the worst thing he could have heard.

“And I could never ask you to choose me over the club, I wouldn’t.”

“I know, but it wouldn’t stop me. Please just… take care of yourself.” He leans down to kiss my forehead, a lingering, painful yet perfect kiss, before he dashes away and onto his bike. Kicking down and roaring off into the night sky.

My tears fall fully then, turning into sobs as I sit on the bottom steps. With my head in my hands, I sob into the night sky, the creaking of wind is my only company. It was like in one second I had him, and now he is gone.

How could he tell me he loves me only to walk around and leave? What is worse is that I understand. He must have decided to do something criminal and thought I wouldn’t stay with him, or that he would leave me heartbroken. Men are stupid. This is more heartbreaking than anything else he could have done. Whatever happens, he might be gone; he might go to jail and I could be alone.

I didn’t even get that much time with him and it is like I didn’t exist at all. I never met his mother, his brothers… I was never that important.

But he loves me…

Oh god, that hurts even more.

No, what’s worse is that I love him too.

19

Jaxson

My mind is in the clouds on the way to her place.

I have thought of every scenario and none have made sense. None have been good enough.

When I walked in the club I had already decided what to do. Isabelle kept me from being fully attached to it.

She is…the light in my life. My everything. I know that if I lose her, I won’t be the same, and neither will she. She is too good a person for me to come and ruin her life. But mine will be ruined if I don’t save the club, either way.

One run down to Mexico, and it’s more than enough to pay off the debts and keep the place going for a few years, only five will go and I left my brothers out of it.

It came to president’s orders but I had to, Mom can’t lose all of us if we get caught by the cops. Just me.

They are always patrolling that border and we are more likely to die than not get caught by them. But if it works, the club is saved and no one has to lose it. I can’t, I couldn’t do that to Dad. The same way I couldn’t go to jail and leave Isabelle. So only one thing made sense.

I even wanted to change my mind but when I saw her, I knew that I had to do it.

Isabelle is innocent, and kind, and beautiful… she changed my life in such a short amount of time, I know that it is permanent, I can’t go back. Only forward, and that can’t include her. Women like her shouldn’t be with a man like me. A criminal, an outlaw. It has to be done.

“Jaxson?” she steps closer and I stare down into her golden eyes, then avoid them altogether. They will make me do anything. The wrong thing. I feel my shoulders rise up into my neck.

“I’ve been thinking… this isn’t the best idea, Isabelle. Us. Together.”

I didn’t even think about what to say. Only that I had to say and that I had to be clear. But even that isn’t. Us together is the best idea, it felt the best, and it did the best for me… but we can’t.

“What? How can you say that?” her voice shakes, smaller than I have ever heard it. And I know that she is fighting tears. I know that she is trying to hold it together just so I don’t feel bad. I don’t deserve her.

“I tried to pretend that I could do this, but I can’t. I don’t want a girlfriend, someone to worry about all the time. Guys like me don’t have that.” I force the words out. Plenty of the guys at the club have women at their sides. Loyal, kind women who weren’t changed by the lifestyle of the club. But I’m not that brave, to take that chance.

“That’s bullshit. Look me in the eye and say that.” She firms up her voice but I still know how hard it is for her. I still know that she is barely holding it together and that I am doing this to her. I didn’t tell anyone my plans, my brothers would have disagreed. Mom knows Isabelle has only made me happy, and she would call me an idiot. But I would rather be an idiot than the man who died on her, who broke her heart.

I find the courage to look at her only for my selfish gain. To remember her, even sad like this. To look in her eyes and see her true beauty and grace.

But all I feel when I do that is sad.

“I can’t… I’m no good for you.” I croak.

Fat tears fall off her eye lids and it breaks me inside, somewhere I didn’t even know I could be broken.

“But—just today you were talking about how much you can’t wait to see me, how did you—” I watch as her hand flies to her mouth and she struggles to catch her breath. More of her tears fall and I hide a sigh of relief at her realizing what has happened.

She knows that I have to save the club and that I could do it honestly, or illegally. That I had to decide what to do and the only factor that matters is her. Maybe that will tell her how important she is to me without having to say it, but I can’t know for sure. All I know is that she has seen the truth, and that I never stood a chance against it.

“Jaxson, don’t do this… I was starting to think—I just thought we were stronger than this.” Her bottom lip trembles, her hands have left from clutching me and I feel empty. I want to hold her, I want to take it all back. But it’s too late now. It is happening two days from now and nothing can change it now.

“We are,” the pain in my voice keeps it deep, beyond my control. And she still looks up at me as if to check and see if I am okay, like I am not the one that’s hurting her right now.

“I’m doing this because I love you, Isabelle. And I don’t want to love you more than I love the club. Because I can’t choose you over it. I just can’t.” before I change my mind, I turn around to leave her.

The wind splits in the air and I don’t get that far away before her small hands tugs me back, stopping me from walking away.

“Jaxson, I love you too.”

I close my eyes as my insides drop. I wish she hadn’t told me that. I wish she never said that and that I never heard it. I dreamt about those words on her lips and now here they are, even after I have broken her.

She loves me too much.

“And I could never ask you to choose me over the club, I wouldn’t.”

“I know, but it wouldn’t stop me. Please just… take care of yourself.” I can’t look in her eyes again. I lean my head down to kiss her forehead, soft and crinkled together with her frustration. I linger longer than I should before I run off to my bike and don’t look back before I ride into the night.

* * *

I ride past the compound and stop there for a drink. The guys didn’t know when I left and I don’t feel like talking, but I shouldn’t be alone. I’ll just go running back to Isabelle.

The club is half empty, sparse. Some guys are playing pool, a few sitting and drinking. Zeke is behind the bar where I left him and sets me down scotch and a beer.

“You look rough.” He comments. He leans back on the table and crosses his arms. I ignore his expression, with his face that looks too much like mine minus the half smirk. Isabelle gave me that back and I lost it.

“Yeah.”

“I’m surprised you agreed to this thing. I mean, it’s the only way. But still.”

“I know that. Where are the others?”

“Home.”

“Why aren’t you back home? I thought you left for good.”

I shake my head.

“No. I went to see Isabelle.”

“I like her, she seems great.”

“I broke up with her.” I down my scotch in one run and already start on my beer.

“What the fuck for?” he looks genuinely angry about it.

“Too complicated.”

“How the fuck is it complicated? You’re not the only one in here that has a girl, hell more of us are married than not. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“It’s different. If shit goes down, I get the worst of it, as I should. And I don’t want to go off to prison and leave her waiting for me. She deserves better than that.”

He shakes his head at me and frowns. “That’s not the only reason, and you know it. I know it. Fuck. I can’t believe you did that, she must be really upset.”

“I know, simpleton, I was there. She—I thought it would be better, to tell her the truth. Because I love her, and I said that. But I didn’t expect her to say it back.”

“That’s even worse, man. Why would you—fuck, you really aren’t good at this.”

I raise my brows and just drink more beer. It isn’t nearly as strong as I need it to be.

“I love her too much. I’d choose her over this in a heartbeat and not think twice. But in five maybe ten years, I’d resent her for it. And it wouldn’t be her fault.”

“Who said you had to choose, man? Dad met Mom when she was in nursing school, it didn’t change her life. Isabelle would have been fine. I don’t get you man, you’ve always been weird.” He turns to start wiping down the bar.

I hear him, but I don’t want to believe he is right. Because then it would mean that I hurt her for nothing and that I would have to fight like hell to get her back.

Zeke turns to look back at me, waiting to see if I changed my mind or something.

“What’s done is done.”

* * *

A guy named Jack has been in the club for a while, doing his illegal shit under my nose and thinking I wouldn’t notice. But I need his help now, but as soon as this is over, I’m kicking him out. He doesn’t know that now and he doesn’t need to.

“We got lucky. I’ve got a run coming up that we could use more help on, so I suggested the one coming up and they took the bait, I got the price up too.”

He grins smugly. Jack is young, my age maybe, has a mean look to him even more so than the rest of us and tattoos covering every inch of his body, save his face. His green eyes glint at me as he waits for a response.

“How long?”

“Takes four hours to ride to the meeting point and that’s it, we don’t have to go all the way. Four other guys, like I said.”

I nod and stand from the meting table as I knock my knuckles against the wood. I feel his eyes following me as I move around the room.

“Good. No tricks or complications?” I ask him.

He shakes his head.

The small window only shows how dark it is outside, not even the moon is out and I think it is because of Isabelle. This darkness matches the one inside of me. I never wanted to let her go and now there is nothing I can do to get her back. Not even getting through this drug run. Or whatever it is actually called, since we won’t technically have the drugs. Because I’ll be a different person to her, more criminal than I ever was before. We’re an outlaw club, it’s how it always has been.

“Nope, never had them before. Then again, it’s only been me, so I don’t know how five other guys might change that. But it’s only one run, so it should be fine.” He shrugs, like it’s nothing. And I hope he isn’t just gas lighting because if this shit goes down, then we will lose more than just the building. They’ll put us all away, and if the president is gone, then the club might as well disband itself.

“Fine. I’ll see you on Tuesday.” I walk over to the door and open it, suggesting for him to leave and he does, smirking at me on his way out.

He thinks he is right. He thinks that he won, or that this means I agree with him. And I don’t.

Part of me wonders, if we had done this the entire time if the club would have had enough of a reserve to take care of anything that might have been thrown our way, but we didn’t. I don’t know what Dad did, I don’t know what Mom thought that he did either. But it was better than this, it has to have been.

When I walk out of the office, the club is emptier than it was before. Only Zeke is at the bar and Walker is setting the chairs down and putting the tables in order.

“Hey,” Zeke comes around the tail end of the bar, stopping close in front of me. I ignore his pointed look, but I know that I can’t for much longer.

“I just talked to Jack.”

“Why don’t you let me come with you? No one can ride as fast as me, you know that.”

“It’s not about that, it’s about being careful. And if we get caught, I don’t want any of you caught in the cross fire with me.”

His shoulder brushes mine as he gives me a sad look.

“You shouldn’t put all this on yourself. You shouldn’t have to.”

“What kind of president would I be, if I let everyone else fight my battles for me?”

He wiggles his brows and looks away, chewing on his inner cheek before he looks back at me.

“You should talk to Isabelle. I’m telling you man, you don’t want to lose her. I know about the ones who get away, it’s no fun.” He drops his shoulder and hardens his eyes at me.

Sometimes I forget he is a grown man and not just my little brother. Times like this, he reminds me. I wish I could lean on them the way they do me sometimes, but it has never worked that way for me.

“You gonna tell me what’s going on with you and Matthew?”

He grins, but it’s not one of the good ones. He knows he got caught and can’t get out of it. I stare him down until he gives up.

“Yeah we uh… had a disagreement? See, if I rat him out, he won’t tell me anyone’s secrets anymore.” He laughs uneasily. I shake my head at him and he nods to himself.

“It’s not ratting him out, we’re brothers.”

“Same difference.” He sighs, “you should ask him, you know, benefit of the doubt and all? But basically, he started the shit with city hall, pissed the mayor off and dared him to get rid of us instead of talking smack.”

“Fuck.” I step back and rub my hands down my face, feeling the cold and hot go away as I do. When I focus back on Zeke, he still has his half smile on and I wish I could be more like him.

“What’s done is done, right?” he claps my shoulder.

“Yeah. Sure.”

“Don’t even worry about it man, we have bigger fish to fry now. Better start getting ready for your drug run.” He says it like it is nothing, or like I have been overreacting, and I know I haven’t.

But now it feels like I should have been worrying about other things. Like what the club has been doing, and what my own brother has been doing. But it is in the past now, another thing buried that I can’t dig up and would do no good to.

Like Isabelle.

Maybe in another life I can get her back, but in this one, I have to save my club.

20

Isabelle

The numbness of my skin doesn’t alert me to the touch of Riley, pulling me off the ground. I know she is asking me something but I can’t find it in myself to pay attention to her.

If I can stay frozen here then maybe I can stay in the place where Jaxson was still here, when he was still mine.

But my numb lips and frozen fingers force me to get up, to follow Riley back inside. I drop onto the couch and she returns with a blanket and hot tea. I hold it in my hands even though it burns and as I get warm, I start to hear what she is saying.

“What happened?” she laces with concern, I don’t look at her, but I know she is staring at me. I stare down into the yellow green color of the tea.

“He broke up with me.” I murmur, not recognizing my voice. It’s sad and dejected and hasn’t been that way for years, I didn’t think I could sound like that anymore. Not after overcoming what I did so many years ago. I never even got to tell Jaxson, I never got to tell him my truth and ask him to love me anyway. I love him anyway, but he doesn’t see that and it’s all I want. Even after he hurt me, I still want him, because I know he did it out of love. I know how hard it was for him and how difficult it is for me, now.

“Why? He was coming to have dinner with us and then—he just breaks up with you? I don’t get it.” She rubs my back and it helps me warm up more.

“He did it to protect me, and he said that he loves me.” I whisper in response.

She doesn’t say anything about how contradictory that is and I love her for it. I don’t think I have it in me to explain to her what the crazy mind of Jaxson is. How complex he is, even if he seemed simple to anyone else.

It would only hurt me more to keep reminding myself as to whether or not he loves me too much or wanted to love me, but couldn’t.

“He’s trying to save his club. And he might have to do something… that he could go to jail for.”

“Holy shit…”

I find it in me to drink some of the tea. The cold air really got in my chest and it chases it down. I don’t even know how long I was sitting out there.

“I wish I could help him.”

“That might not get him back…”

“I know, not for that. So I could help him, his family.” I scoff, “I know I sound stupid.”

“You don’t. You love him. But how could you save a motorcycle club? That place is ancient, and if the city wants them gone, they have to go. It’s not a museum.”

Somewhere in my found sorrow, I listen to what she is saying, and the part of me that did random research for years just to write my plays realistically, resurfaces. A historical fiction piece, that merged in with modern day… I don’t even remember it.

All I know is that to save a part in the city, everyone came together and made the place a historical landmark, so no one could touch it.

“The club has been in their family for years,” I whisper.

“Yeah?”

“But how long?” I dash up from the couch and to my computer in my bedroom, and she follows me. I wipe my tears and try to focus. Jaxson never told me the exact year his father came here, or even how old he is. So I have to look for the less obvious stuff, like when the building was built and who by.

Riley sits with me as I turn in circles, trying to find what I need. I wish I could ask one of his brothers, or even anyone at the club. But I am on my own.

“Look at the City Hall Charter.” She suggests.

I do, and that’s where I find it.

The building itself has stood for eighty-two years, and I cross check with the minimum amount of time before it can be made a historical landmark and protected by federal law. Eighty years.

“So, what now?” Riley asks.

“We go to city hall.”

* * *

When morning comes, it all comes flooding back to me, before I can fully forget it. I lay there and let fresh tears fall, before I remember I have a limited amount of time. I rush to get dressed and don’t even eat, before I head to city hall. I have to do it in time for class, but just in case, I call my professor in workshop to make sure he knows. I might have to call in sick to cover my self.

“I should be back, but if I email the class they can do today’s assignment on their own or for extra credit.” I sit in the car and try to sound sick.

“That’s fine. Where are you going?”

I freeze. God knows I couldn’t lie to save my life.

“Um, city hall.”

“You getting married?” he chuckles. I have since talked to him about my play and his critiques, he is a nice guy just not on paper when he is workshopping me.

“No, just trying to make a historical landmark.” I say casually. I check the time and see that I have to go soon, to get there when they open.

“Oh. My brother works in city hall here, I can give him a call for you?”

I freeze, “Really? I need to talk to someone in building regulations.”

“That’s his department, he might speed things up for you.”

“Wow, thank you, Chris.”

“No problem. And that way you’ll be back in time for class.”

“Um, maybe. I hope so.”

He chuckles and then we say our goodbyes before we hang up. I have a new-found breath of hope, and I text Riley to let her know too. She has been my wing woman and should get to see this thing through too.

I make the relatively long drive into the city, cringing when I pass the compound of bikes outside the club. It looks like a regular day but I know they are gearing up for something big. I have no idea when it is happening and I just hope that I can do this in time.

The city hall is a huge building much like the movies, and when I ask the receptionist for Chris’ brother, using the name he gave me, I get to him pretty quickly.

When I step in his office, I feel like I have the fate of the world on my shoulders. It’s just Jaxson, but he still feels like the world to me.

* * *

I let class go one minute early and they look like they love me for it. But I just need to get out of here.

Once I get to workshop, I can’t use my phone or check my email, so I wait with sweat in my palms and swim in my baggy green sweater until I get out of class.

I rush to sit on a bench or something in the building and take out my phone, no emails or texts. I feel my insides sinking because I really thought it would work.

Bryan, Chris’ brother, said that he could rush the paperwork and make it so the city couldn’t tax them anymore, and would have to forgive what they are already owed. It was only possible because the building had been there before the club was, considerably longer, and that it could be classified as sanctuary. But it has been hours since then, and I have started to lose hope.

My feet trudge me along to my car and I drive home, collapsing on the couch. Somewhere between that and fried chicken, my mom calls and I evade everything, only by inviting her to come for Thanksgiving, and that makes her really happy. After we hang up, I let the tears fall and lay on the couch. Riley is at work, but texts for an update. I tell her there is no luck.

All I can think about it Jaxson. How much I love him. So quickly, he started to matter so much to me. He is kind and sweet, handsome, and even funny when he didn’t even have to try. He loves his family and is loyal to his club and has all the qualities in a man that I never knew I needed or wanted. Until him. And for some reason, he loved me back. So much that he left me behind.

I don’t want that to be our story. Whether he goes through with it or not, I don’t want that to be his story, or the way we end.

* * *

I sleep on the couch, wake up disoriented and confused. The television still runs and fried food smells in the air. I check my phone, and it is only eight. Along with two missed calls. I sit up too fast and ignore the swimming in my head before I call back.

“Miss Isabelle, I hoped to reach you.”

“Hi, yes sorry.”

It’s Bryan, from the city council.

“I just wanted to let you know that everything worked out, and you can come get the paperwork tomorrow. You’ll need to keep a copy along with the other insurance statements, but the city has their own copies here for records in paper and electronic.”

My breath stalls and I think I might still be taking a nap, that this is a dream. I check my hand and I have all five fingers, so I am awake.

“Wow… thank you. And the issue with the Mayor, will that go away?”

“I assume so, I mean, he can’t really change city laws. I’m not sure why he is so against your sanctuary for retirees.”

I swallow. Of course I couldn’t tell him that it is an MC club.

“Who knows? They were behind on taxes.” I lie.

“Well, they don’t have to worry about that anymore. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

“Thank you.”

I hang up and check I am not dreaming for a second time. I’m not.

When I sprang to do all of that I never thought it would work, it was the hope that really made me do it.

But now, Jaxson will be okay. I itch to call him but it doesn’t work, I can’t give him false hope until I have those papers in my hands and I can see him in person. I wish I had thought of it before, that I had tried harder to help him.

But I guess I was blinded by everything that was going on between us. Blinded by falling in love with him. I don’t regret it, though, and now I know there is another real chance for us to be together.

* * *

Riley lets me use her car to go to the club, maybe if he sees me coming he won’t move faster to get away from me. I wear a black track suit and then we head to city hall together.

Bryan is waiting with the papers as promised, and it looks so official, I know that it worked. He assures that the Mayor will back off, even after finding out it is an MC. I don’t know why I thought I could keep that fact hidden. But his office is serious about city laws, and that is one thing the Mayor can’t fight. I wish I could look into his eyes and see his face when he realizes that he failed.

“You okay?” Riley stops a few meters from the entrance.

“Yeah.” It has only been a few days since I have seen him. But it feels like longer.

The front door suddenly bursts open and two guys come barreling out, huge scary looking ones with tattoos and chains on their jeans. I realize I have to go now. It’s my spirit that forces me to move forward, even though I am scared. The two guys eye me, head to toe, and I feel sick. But I pass them and walk inside to find four more guys, one of them Jaxson. My eyes focus on him, he looks how I feel. His face is sunken, but still beautiful. He wears his cut and a tight tee shirt underneath; the white color almost shows his tattoo underneath. He freezes when he sees me and I realize that he had been talking.

“Isabelle,” he gets up so fast he almost knocks the chair over, and strides over to me.

He stops so close I smell him, his pine and cologne scent, and I am reacquainted with the intensity of his gaze and the way it sets my body on fire in the warmest of ways. When he takes my elbow to carry me off to a more private corner, I almost stumble at the feeling of being touched by him again.

“What are you doing here?”

And so I explain everything. Realizing how much it sounds too good to be true, and he listens intently. Only when I show him the papers does he believe me, he takes it and surveys them the way he would look at me sometimes. In awe. When his eyes come back to me, he does; everything comes flooding back. The way we broke up but most importantly him saying that he loves me, and saying I love him too.

His gaze seems to hold mine for an eternity before we remember there are other people in here.

He tears his eyes from mine as if it is the hardest thing to do, and then he glances over his shoulder at the guys before he turns.

“Cancel the run, tell the other guys to go home.”

There is some back lash, guys murmuring back until they are arguing at full volume.

“President’s orders.” He barks, and then it is silent.

Jaxson turns back to me and I do not have time to breathe before he kisses me harder than he ever has before.

Epilogue - Jaxson

When November rolls around, the club is at its best. Since Dad passed, at least. I have only started to feel like the president, and like I’m not just hurting them.

And it is all because of Isabelle. I tried to let her go but she is what saved us. Somehow, she discovered something none of us ever thought to and it leaves me in awe every fucking day since.

At first, it was hard to get her back, as it should be. I hurt her and she found it in herself to forgive me, even if it was for the right reasons. I should have let her be by my side, I should have stayed by hers. But now I know.

Isabelle is the best thing that could have happened to me, and I can’t mess that up. I have to be true to her and I want to, for the rest of my life. I never have to be alone.

I had a few conditions, of course. I took her out on real dates, treated her how special she should be treated, promised that I loved her every day to remind her. And I still fall in shock to hear that she loves me too. This beautiful, smart, loving woman is mine. I feel like I have won the lottery.

And when I took her home to my Mom… I knew that she was truly the one. They were like best friends within an hour, Mom was sharing secrets about me and I was mortified, but Isabelle loved every minute of it. Same thing with my brothers, they treat her like the little sister they never had.

We still have our hard times, when she told me about growing up without her dad, getting in trouble at school, and being sent away by her mom, I knew it was hard for her to be honest with me. But nothing can stop me from loving her, nothing.

“Where are we going?” Isabelle sits on the back of my bike, her plush body hits mine and I melt along with her.

“You’ll see.”

I take the short drive from my place to the club. She hasn’t moved in with me, something about not leaving her roommate, but she practically does. She stays over almost every night and waking up next to her every morning is like a blessing.

I pull around the back of the club, farther down to where Dad is buried. I never go here, but something in me just kept telling me to bring her here, and so I am.

“This is where my Dad is buried.” I take her hand, feeling her eyes on me as we walk forward. She wraps her arm around mine and holds herself close to me. Even bundled up in her sweater, I can feel her warmth and it is what makes me keep going.

I still feel that sinking dread when I think of Dad, but it has gotten better.

“Do you talk to him?” she asks me.

I shake my head.

She nods and we stand there together over his grave until I feel like I’ve done my piece. I take her back with me and we stop at my house before dinner with Mom. We have gone every week for a while now.

“You okay?” she asks me as we sit on my couch.

I nod, “Yeah.” I turn to her, cupping her soft cheek to kiss her.

Her lips pillow against mine, so soft and pliable. I take control, dipping my tongue inside to taste her, moving together with her. She sighs against me and runs her nails down my stubble, reaching my neck and twirling in my hair as she pulls. I maneuver her onto my lap, already rock hard for her.

It doesn’t take much, she is fucking perfect and I’m always ready for her. I started to think I might have an addiction or something, but only for her.

We get rid of our clothes so fast my head spins, and she opens up her legs so I can sink deep inside her pussy. I groan, as she clenches around me even tighter. Her nails rake down my front as she holds her pace, tearing my dick apart in the best of ways. She has grown accustomed to the way I like to fuck, but sometimes I let her take control, giving her the sweet loving that she needs. What’s even better is the way she sucks me off, all the way down and tight as ever.

All these thoughts drive me closer to the edge than before. I use one hand to knead her breast and pinch her nipple as the other rubs her clit with my thumb. She pants and moans against my lips as I kiss her, then we fall over the edge together.

I kiss her harder, releasing her when all of my cum is deep inside her.

“I want to put a baby in you, Isabelle.” I growl, gripping her hips. I bend to kiss her chest and over her breasts, they sway as she breathes heavily still.

She smiles wryly, “You’d have to make an honest woman out of me first, Jaxson.” She giggles, as if she doesn’t really mean it.

But fuck, I do.

“So marry me then. As soon as possible.”

Her soft brown eyes widen and I lose myself in them, overcome with happiness. Here I am, buried deep inside of her, asking her to marry me. I wouldn’t want to have it any other way.

Her arms wrap around my neck and she kisses me, clenching around me again as she starts to writhe. I get distracted by her, forgetting that I actually want an answer. It came out of nowhere, and I should probably have a ring, but nothing with us has happened the way it is supposed to.

“Yes, Jaxson, yes.”

I smile back at her, growing hard in her again as I kiss her deeply. The woman that saved me, saved my club—she’s mine forever.

Also by J.C. Allen

(Hey lovelies, Hazel here. J.C. Allen is a good friend of mine and was instrumental in helping me co-write Jaxson! I’ll give him some “air time” to write to you all.)

Thank you for reading Jaxson! If you loved Jaxson, you’ll love the sensual, dark, and dangerous title also written by me: Savage Mercy. Order Savage Mercy now!

And to find out about new books, sign up for my newsletter here!

Join my Facebook group, J.C. Allen’s Reader Group, for exclusive giveaways and sneak peeks of future books. I hugely appreciate your help in spreading the word about Jaxson, including telling a friend. Reviews help readers find books! Please leave a review on your favorite book site. Turn the page for an excerpt from Savage Mercy…

Derek

Present Day

The smell of coffee wafted to my nostrils at an hour well past when most people would have awoken to the smell of their favorite caffeinated drink. A single waitress worked the old, 70’s diner, probably a bit of overkill given that I’d come to this place so many times I could cook their dishes blindfolded. She checked in only once to confirm my meal, once to deliver it, and once to bring the check. She knew me enough, and that’s all I cared about.

I sat against the back of the booth, looking at the empty seat across from me. I sighed.

Fuck.

I had barely slept the night before. The truth was, I hadn’t ever truly fallen asleep. No, such a luxury hadn’t come to me in quite some time, and I didn’t just mean last night. I measured the deepness of my sleep by how quickly I could have bolted up and acted in a moment of need, and that quickness never went beyond a split second’s worth of recognition.

Life had just changed in that regard. Ever since that fateful day…

Fuck.

I wanted to groan, to scream, to roar that curse as I lifted my head. Every day that I woke up, every fucking day…

How some people started their day with a “good morning” or, hell, just one of those two words felt like a mystery I had once had the answer to but now would have had better luck trying to understand the meaning of life or the Bermuda Triangle.

Instead, I got to “celebrate” the start of my day with what seemed like a cruel joke to myself.

I went to the same diner that she and I used to go to every Saturday to truly, really, actually celebrate the good life.

What a sick joke I played on myself.

“Fuck.”

Ahh, at least now I could actually verbalize how I felt. At least now my vocal cords were coming to life.

With a slightly more alert mind, I knew that the hour had approached something between 2 p.m. and 3 p.m. Like I said, most people didn’t need their breakfast and coffee after when most civilized people had already had lunch. But then again, most people also didn’t need to do the kind of shit I’d undertaken in the past two years.

I tried to wet my mouth, but even with having just eaten enough bacon and eggs to feed a professional athlete, the foul taste of oil, gas, and tobacco infested it instead. It was a common taste to rise to, but that never made it appetizing like pizza or the sweet scent of Mag…

I stopped my thoughts in my tracks before I thought about her this goddamn early in the day. To be fair, thinking about her was an inevitable part of the day, as much a part of my life as pissing, shitting, and drinking, but at least if I could delay it some, I could say I had a tolerable day. Never a great one, mind you, but at least a tolerable one.

But that was the problem with trying to suppress thoughts—the more I tried, the harder it got. And the harder it got, the more I’d try to suppress them. To say it was a vicious cycle would be like saying Las Vegas in the summer was hot. No fucking shit, Sherlock.

Then again, I supposed that coming to the same diner we had always visited was not helping matters.

But if I did that, what part of her would remain?

Nothing. That’s what. She’ll be as dead as the day she actually died from that fucking Falcon.

Today, to get rid of them, I hacked up and shot a wad of spit out of my throat and onto my plate, hoping to clear the pipes some so the next time I said fuck, it wouldn’t sound like a twenty-year smoker on his death bed from lung cancer. I checked the dimple on my left shoulder, the bruises on my inner legs, and the general wear and tear of my body before I stood up to take a piss.

And, in doing so, stepped on a sticky piece of gum some asshole had left before I’d never noticed.

Hilariously enough, I didn’t even think fuck at this moment. Life had a funny way of making me appreciate what was worth a fuck and what I knew I had done to myself. The idea of laughing at myself for such a thing was… well, not going to happen, but the depressed and the cursed could still find dark humor in the shadows of life.

I looked in the mirror in the bathroom and shit, did I look like hell. The lack of sleep, the stress, the constant nightmares and flashbacks… I didn’t give a fuck, at least not if anyone asked me, but damn was this bad.

It was, I was sure, a sign of what was to come today.

Today, like yesterday, like two days ago, like every day before that, was going to suck.

Every day alone, without her, sucked.

Fuck.

Shit.

Damnit!

Well, at least I’m waking up. My obscenities are evolving bit by bit.

I headed back to the booth to slowly sip on my cup of coffee, as if someday, somehow, I would have a revelation that would change my life.

Hahahahahahahahahahahaha you fucking idiot.

A flashing light in the corner of my room caught my eye, as if something was fighting with the forces of nature to remain on. I lazily grabbed my phone. No one important is calling right now. Probably some bill collector.

Or…

I looked at the name on the caller ID and rolled my eyes. Fuck, seriously?

I would have thought that ignoring the previous half-dozen voicemails would have gotten the hint through, but then again, I thought a lot of things about the world that no one else seemed to agree with. It was just part of the odd balance between abiding by just enough of the rules that I wouldn’t wind up six feet under or in the slammer and also calling a bitch a bitch.

Then again, some days might be worth going six feet deep…

Still, bemused curiosity got the better of me. And what was I supposed to do, keep trying to play Jesus and resurrect the dead in my head? I pressed play and mentally prepared to strain my eyes with the amount of ensuring eyerolls.

“Derek? Gooooood afternoon, it’s George…”

“Again,” I said, finishing his words.

I didn’t smirk—it was too damn early for that—but a sense like a smirk washed over me. The guy was just too damn predictable. In a way, it was nice to have this comedic relief right now.

“… again,” the message echoed. “Listen, if I’m an honest man, and Lord knows I hope I am, I know you probably won’t respond. I would guess you’re just going to ignore this message like all the others…”

“Then why the fuck you calling me,” I mumbled as I pulled out some clothes for the day.

“… but darn it, Derek, no matter how crazy it sounds, I’m still holding onto hope that you’ll come back to us. Call me crazy, but… well…”

I blurted out a single laugh, something of a miracle for being fully awake only so recently—or, really, my entire life. “Darn it, Derek, I’m still holding out hope,” sounded like exactly the kind of thing George would have felt so uncomfortable saying he would have begged forgiveness from God as soon as he said it.

“What’s wrong, George” I said, my voice more of a gruff statement than an empathic question. “New guys not worth a shit, huh.”

“It’s these new guys, Derek,” George said in what was so predictable, I would have bet on that more than on the sun rising the next day. “They’re just not working out. They’ve got half the work ethic and demand twice the pay. It’s so hard and we’re trying our best, but… oh, heavens, we need you back. Lord look favorably upon me please.”

“And you assume that I just can’t wait to play the part of the chump and come back to work twice as hard for half the pay, that right?” I groused. “That’s your problem, George. Talk nice and think you’re being polite.”

“My boss is going to think I’m insane, but I can’t help it, Derek. I’m willing to take you back at twice your original salary.”

I’m sure some how-to book in the self-help section from some guru wearing a mic, a tie, and a fake smile would have stated how such an offer was a sign that you, empowered individual, had finally arrived.

And I was just as sure that the only thing I had arrived at was the conclusion that I wanted nothing to do with that job ever again. I sincerely had a better chance of sending an olive branch to the Black Falcons than going back to that job—and I had a better chance of begging for Satan’s cock than doing that.

“Way I see it, if I can get you back by getting rid of two of these lazy, money-grubbing… uhh… guys, then I’m willing to—”

“Still a dipshit, I see,” I grumbled, turning back and stabbing my finger against the machine, deleting the message.

The funny thing, deleting that message, was it wasn’t like I had moved on to “bigger and better” things. I didn’t even just mean in the traditional sense. I couldn’t really say that I personally felt like I had moved on to bigger and better things. What part of “widowed, hunted, and hated” was “bigger and better?”

Granted, my life was a lot more exotic and, I supposed when I wasn’t in the midst of feeling pissed off, “exciting” compared to replacing shingles and yanking out old wiring in houses that should have been demolished instead of trying to power a stereo like mine, let alone an entire system.

And, to be fair, I also had a lot more horny housewives waiting for me to “catch” them, oh so conveniently standing by their bayside windows with nothing but their bathrobes on, “accidentally” untied and open, their desperate, lonesome fuck-me eyes staring at me, telling me that their husbands, men like George, hadn’t given them a good lay in twenty years.

But I had really never given a shit about that. Some young buck, some idiot, some fresh meat might have gotten off at just the thought of a woman, not some ditzy co-ed idiot, showing him how to fuck. But I just didn’t have any interest.

Not when I had had the best a woman could offer. And not just any woman, but…

Really not helping your cause here, thinking like this, Derek.

I tossed my phone back to the ground and grabbed my coffee when my phone rang unexpectedly, nearly causing me to capsize the cup and drop the hot, burning drink onto my hands. Cuz that’s what I need, right?

Startled, I turned suddenly to the still-going device. I shook my head, mumbled “motherfucker” and picked it up. I stared at the name.

“Matty Rooster Rose.”

Ah, fuck.

“What,” I muttered before I’d even brought the phone to my ear, hoping that Roost didn’t have to fill my ears with a soliloquy so early in the day.

“And a chipper ‘hello’ to you from the rest of the functioning world, as well, ya moody shithead!” Matty’s voice sang back to me, perhaps the starkest contrast I could have asked for at this hour. “What the fuck is goin’ on?!? You actually awake at this normal hour?”

“Rooster?” I asked, then rolled my eyes at myself. Of course it was fucking Roost, I’d even looked at the damn caller ID before I’d picked up the phone!

Like I said, I needed something.

“Heh! The fuck else would it be?” he said. “‘Less ya got some other side fag running the books for ya. And tracking the jobs… and calling the shots… and tracking your transports… and—”

“I get it, I get it!” I groaned, combing my fingers through my hair. One way or the other, Roost was going to wake me up. “You’re my everything, aww, how cute. You want a fucking raise or something?”

Every so often, the sole waitress would give me a stern look for swearing, but it wasn’t condescending—it was more like my mother telling me to wash my mouth with soap. I always felt guilty swearing around her, but I’d ingrained myself too much in the life to not do it.

“Nah,” Roost said with a drawled, drawn-out chuckle. “Just yer word that ya ain’t got any other fags working this hard for yer ungrateful ass. Ya know I couldn’t handle that.”

I scoffed at that and shook my head even though there was no one there to see it. I was many terrible things, and anyone who wanted anything resembling a normal life stayed far the fuck away, but I swore loyalty above my own health. So long as Roost ran with me, I was monogamously working with him.

Just not… well, monogamously anything else.

“No, Roost, you’re the only fag in my life.”

“Aww, well don’t be so certain, Derek,” he said, dropping his voice to a playful cautionary level. “Ain’t’cha been watching the news? We’s got agendas ‘gainst all arrows. Agendas!”

I laughed at that, still wondering why he insisted on calling all straight people “arrows.” Wasn’t it just easier…

Never mind that. Just, fucking…

“Noted. So what’s up?” I asked, hoping the calm in my voice would steady the storm in my head.

“Wanted to know when we could expect yer company,” he answered. “But then ya answered the call like an angsty bitch, so now’s I gotta know who put a pricker-bush up yer poop-chute! Who ya seeing, Derek? Who’s the lucky fag? C’mon, tell me the truth!”

“Nobody,” I grumbled, rolling my eyes at the man’s too-keen senses, although I came as close as I had all morning to giving more than a one-off laugh. If anyone could pull it off, it was Roost.

That ended, though, when my mind came back to what my eyes saw in that moment—or, rather, what my eyes thought they saw.

And just like that… whatever glimmer of genuine laughter, whatever real hope I had for some hilarity, disappeared as quickly as she had.

“I just… well, my stereo croaked this morning. Fucking outage blew a fuse or something, and to make matters worse my CD was still in the damn tray—can’t get it out. Want to know what it’s like? You’d be pissed out of your damn mind if one of your boys had his mouth sewn shut.”

Matty grunted into the line, and I could practically see him rolling his eyes at me. He always said I needed to learn to talk shit to him like a true fag would, but what in the fuck was that supposed to mean? I wasn’t exactly lacking for verbal wit, anyways.

I also knew he knew I was full of shit. But he was also smart enough not to press me on the real reasons for my misery. He was also smart enough to play along as needed.

“Lemme have a whack at the ol’ girl. I’m sure I can get her singin’ again. The very least, I can prolly get her to give Aero back before she flatlines for good. Then we’ll see ‘bout getting’ ya a new one; a better one!”

“I’d appreciate it,” I said, although I couldn’t claim to relish that idea at all. It wasn’t as simple as saying “a new one, a better one.” That implied I could just move on from her that easily, and…

If I could move as easily on from my gals as Roost seemed to imply was possible, would I be in my current state?

“Any idea what caused the power outage, anyway?” I said, hoping to deflect Roost’s further questions. “I feel like I would’ve woken up if there’d been a storm.”

“No storm, sadly,” Roost said, his breath coming out a little heavier than before—whatever he was doing, he was moving, and old Roost didn’t have the healthiest of bodies. I loved him for his mind, his wit, and his charm, but the idea of making him run down a Black Falcon was as laughable as me chasing down a real falcon. “Not in the way ya mean, at least.”

Something passed over the receiver on his end—his hand, I guessed—and his suddenly muffled voice shouted an order to move the latest shipment to the back room for inventory. I didn’t think anything of it.

Didn’t think much of anything, really.

“Sorry ‘bout that, boss. Anyways, it’s the goddamn heat. That’s what’s to blame for the power goin’ out. Blackouts ‘cross the whole damn city. It’s like one of them damn solar flares, that’s what the weatherman said. I dunno what in the fuck that means, but yer not gonna get here without some sweat glistening down yer body.”

“The heat?” I repeated, glancing towards the sun outside and seeing heat waves rise off the black concrete. Riding my girl is gonna be a real bitch today. She’s gonna be packing some heat, alright.

“Fuckin’ A,” Rooster drawled. “Hot as a parade of greased-up Dwayne Johnson clones out here. And ya know I’d much rather have ‘em…”

He didn’t dare call the WWE wrestler by his stage name. Not when the leader of the Black Falcons, my biggest fucking nemesis and the biggest pain in my ass, shared it.

“I’ll have to take your word for it,” I offered, daring a peek outside as I stood up to stretch my legs.

The air itself swirled as the blazing sun cooked through it and took a fresh stab at my eyes. The glass felt hot enough to fry an egg. To say that I had stepped into an oven was a misnomer, because an oven provided the good kind of heat—the kind of heat that told you some delicious food was coming.

This heat just told me that a bad fucking day was coming. It was too hot even for the pretty girls nearby to sunbathe.

“Shit…” I muttered.

“Yuppers,” Rooster sang back. “It’s a ‘risk the ride without yer helmet’-sort of day if ya ask me.”

I snorted.

“I didn’t,” I teased, ignoring how I’d gotten to the diner in the first place. “But I won’t, anyway. You know me.”

“Won’t what? Ride with yer helmet? Yeah, we know,” Rooster said.

Just as I had rolled my eyes at George’s voicemail, I knew Roost was rolling his eyes at me right now. I’d be disappointed if he wasn’t. But then again, Roost thought in terms of, like, wanting to live and be happy and stuff.

“Ya think it sends out the whole ‘fearless leader’ vibe, but really it’s just got us taking bets ‘bout when you’ll spill yer stubborn-as-a-mule brains all over the damn streets. Loser gonna hafta clean yer up. I never planned on takin’ over Savage Saviors like this, but ya keep bein’ an idiot…”

I resisted the urge to say “sooner rather than later, I hope”—knowing I’d only be locking myself into a nagging, drawling lecture later for it, followed by some false promises and a repeat of the same cycle a month later—and offered only an “uh-huh” as I motioned for the waitress to bring the check. Honestly, she didn’t even need to do this—I knew I left $15 every day for an $10.87 meal—but I think she liked the idea of keeping some semblance of a routine on her job.

“How we looking?” I said, ignoring Roost’s warning.

“Me, personally? Fucking gorgeous, of course,” Rooster said with a laugh. “I’m always as handsome and rugged as the best of ‘em!”

“Uh huh, as always,” I said. “You know what I mean.”

“I do. Assumin’ ye’re askin’ ‘bout the shipment, it looks like we’re a bit on the shorthanded side.”

Fuck.

Fuck!

Seriously?

I clenched my teeth, pausing in the doorway. First, her. Then the thoughts. Then the heat.

Now this?

“Just how fucking short?” I growled, making sure I’d stepped outside before dropping the f-bomb.

“Whoa there, cowboy,” Rooster said, his voice hurried. “Slow yer roll. I said it looks like we’re a bit on the shorthanded side. Still got a few crates to unload, and I ain’t even got a chance to eyeball the invoice reports. For all I know I fucked up the order—missed a zero or something, or maybe I just flat-out forgot to order—so many things, I could’ve—”

“Be real with me, Roost,” I said, cutting him off. “What’s the likelihood that you fucked up? Be honest.”

Seconds passed. The usual verbose, affable Roost, the one who couldn’t shut up about a thousand… Dwayne Johnsons from the WWE walking down the street, the one who would have suffered if he didn’t talk, went silent.

“Thought so.”

“Look, Derek, it ain’t that big of a deal,” Rooster assured me, the usual talkative parrot resuming his squawking.. “So we gotta pin a few pricks against the walls and remind ‘em not to fuck with us; let it be known that, whether or not the streets are divided, we still got those turkeys by the gizzards. Can’t be that hard. Not like we gonna kill anybody.”

“Yeah,” I sighed, rolling my eyes. “Exactly. Just that easy, right? That’s just all we have to do.”

I coughed and spat in the corner. This time, I made sure to aim in a place I would not step in my own fucking spit.

“Except you know it’s not that easy, Roost; not anymore. Used to be we could just lay a little muscle down on these guys and remind them who they’re working for, but it’s not the case anymore. Muscle don’t mean shit now that the Black Falcons are rolling in and actually taking lives.”

I sighed.

This already shit morning was getting worse, and I didn’t need a reminder that competition had come to town, breaking the well-established rules of this city and raising the bar so high that people would break their necks trying to reach it—literally and figuratively.

And that said nothing about the darkness they had brought me on a personal level.

“What do ya want me to do, Derek?” Roost said, even though he knew I didn’t have an answer then. “Start ordering our boys to slit the delivery guys’ throats? ‘Cause, ‘less ye’re willing to take it to that point, it’s not like we’ve got a hell of a lot to work with to convince ‘em to do things the way they used to be done. It’s just…”

Roost’s words rattled on but my hearing drifted as I moved across the parking lot. The long walk, one I deliberately took to clear my head—no one was that goddamn stupid to steal my bike—instead usually brought me questions like the ones rattling in my head right now.

What would my father do?

Well, for starters, probably wouldn’t have let shit get so out of hand that your own boys decided to run off and start another crew that’s willing to take things this far, asshole. Did you ever think that maybe if you’d just stopped things when they started, none of this would ever wind up as shitty as they are now?

Fair, I thought in response to myself, except that they weren’t my boys when all this went down.

But if you’d caught them soon enough…

How would you ever have caught them soon enough? Are you a psychic? No? Didn’t think so.

There are signs. Like Maggie…

Shut up, Derek.

Then, just like that, my warring thoughts stalemated on the only conceivable deduction, the one that made both logical sense and fit with the emotional narrative I’d formed in the months and years since.

Dustin, my brother, was the asshole that had failed Dad and the rest of the city. Dustin was the one that had led to this city descending into the kind of anarchy the old mobsters would have relished and made fortunes out of.

No, stop it. Don’t fucking blame others.

Especially your brother, the best man in your life besides Dad.

Especially the dead.

Especially since you’re the only living one in the family.

I was the failure and the asshole. It wasn’t like I hadn’t already been wearing those titles. Logic could speak at its podium all day, didn’t change a damn thing.

Bad enough that Dustin’s funeral was still fresh on my mind. It wasn’t fair to go and shit on a fresh grave, let alone one of my brother.

“… Derek? Derek? Still there, Derek?”

“Uh… yeah. Yeah, I’m here,” I answered, struggling to find my voice. Don’t you dare fucking lose it on a phone call. You save that shit for being alone. “Just getting on the bike. Might lose you.”

“What? You talking over a rotary phone or something?” he laughed, providing me momentary relief from the chaos in my head “Since when do phones cut out when ya get on bikes like yers?”

“Just warning you in case it happens,” I explained, but I mumbled “fuck” out of earshot of Roost’s line.

“Uh-huh,” he answered knowingly, but he knew better than to press. “Look, just get yer ass out here, kay? We’ll check over the order—see if anything’s actually worth worrying ‘bout—and discuss the next move depending on what we find. I ain’t think anything of it, but—”

“Got it,” I said, cutting Roost off before he went on another monologue about his own failures and hopeful redemption.

I hung up with yet another eye roll—my temples were already starting to ache and the rest of my head not too far behind—and forced myself not to look back at the diner.

The diner my former wife and I shared.

But now, we only shared it in spirit. Because she couldn’t share anything more.

Because she was dead.

But then I came to my chopper.

For just a temporary moment, I had enormous relief.

Because there’s no room for irony and regret when there’s iron to ride and pain to deliver.