Page 17 of Cruz

No, I’m the silent one. I can almost hear her voice, ordering me to stroke myself. Harder. Faster. To touch my balls. To brush my thumb over my swollen head and press into the slit.

Jesus Fuck. My body is a machine, but right now, it’s a machine out of my control.

I haven’t got out of my head since I first set eyes on Sloane. I’ve heard things about her, from Liam. Plenty, actually, but I was entirely unprepared for… God. I have no idea how to define it. I don’t know what’s going on.

I doubt that this is going to accomplish anything other than to tone things down a little. Hopefully that will be enough to let my brain take over my body again.

There’s nothing about this that I want to get over with. No release has ever consumed me like this. I’m scattered and frayed. I’m burning and fevered. I can’t stop thinking about Sloane’s lips and how it would be to taste them. All I know is that I’d like to be able to focus, get my shit together, and not freak Sloane out with a boner while we’re sparring on the mats.

My cock kicks in my hand and my brain short circuits. I concentrate on long, hard strokes, circling my tip at the end, and brushing my thumb over the slit. I press down hard, sending sensation careening through my body. I slam my hand against the wall and lean into the pleasure, stroking harder and harder until I come in a rush. White jets paint the wall in front of me as my cock kicks, over and over again. I come so hard that my vision blanks out, and I’m glad I have a hand out to steady myself.

“Okay.” The word rasps out of me, mostly because my lungs are completely empty and it’s hard to suck in another breath. I don’t know who I’m talking to. My dick, or me?

My brain continues the little pep-talk for me, so I don’t have to do it out loud.

Get your shit together. This happens exactly once. Sloane is off-limits. Thoughts of her are off-limits. She’s a big, hard no. You’re in control of your emotions and your feelings, and that includes your cock. Stick to what you’re good at, and you won’t have a problem.

I don’t know about that. I just jizzed all over the wall like a fucking cannon going off, and I’m still buzzing under my skin. I think that’s a pretty big fucking problem.

Chapter 8

Sloane

I don’t know what I was expecting, but everyone is so much nicer than I thought they’d be. I can’t decide if that’s a good thing or not.

Liam keeps sending me cautious looks, checking in to make sure that I’m not about to lose my mind or have a meltdown. Not that I’m prone to them, but when in Rome. Or rather, when in your son’s future biker club that you knew nothing about before yesterday…

When we first started talking to the guys in the security room and they explained to us what they were going to be doing, how the hacking worked, and how that maybe for right now, it’s best to try to keep life as normal as possible so that nothing looks off, I thought my skull was going to explode. I’m not techy, but that wasn’t it. I kept thinking about Liam in Seattle, away from home, witnessing what he saw and keeping that to himself all this time. I’m going to need more than a day to sort all this out, but I’m starting to make peace with the fact that it might take some time.

The club’s president, vice president, and a few of the other guys all found us in the back of the clubhouse. They introduced themselves, and they were all much younger than I thought. Probably my age or less. They didn’t look like thugs. They were all big guys, and sure, some had long hair with a big beard to match, and they were all wearing a leather jacket or vest full of patches, but they were polite, well spoken, and I could tell that their concern for the whole situation was genuine.

Liam half looked like he wanted to jump out of his skin, and half like yet another apology was coming, but he stayed quiet. He kept watching me as though I was going to take him aside and tell him in no uncertain terms that he wasn’t allowed to join the club, because I get the final say.

I might not like it, and maybe I don’t have to like it, but I need to make peace with this, one way or the other. I can either support my son or break his heart. I don’t need to be right, and maybe he doesn’t either. That only causes someone to get hurt, and then what’s left but shredded hopes and burned bridges?

Cruz appears in the doorway of the security room a few minutes after Tyrant, Raiden, Odin, and Atlas left. His hair is slicked back and still damp, he’s freshly shaved, and he’s dressed entirely in black from his t-shirt to a pair of fatigues and his big boots.

He looks like a drill sergeant. A real ass kicker. A huge grizzly beast jammed into clothing that happens to showcase just how big and muscled he is. And… all the wrong parts of me definitely notice.

“Are you ready for us?” Liam asks. He shoots Wizard a loaded look. “I guess I should have asked if I was supposed to go to the garage today.”

Wizard shrugs. “You can go track Tyrant down, but I’m assuming you can make whatever decisions you’d like. Tomorrow would be fine, or the next day. Just be sure everything is taken care of at home and then let us know.”

I realize that maybe I shouldn’t have worn jeans and a bulky sweater for self-defense training, but I guess if someone tries to mug you walking down the street, or breaks into your house, you’re not going to have time to put on a sporty little outfit to give you the greatest range of movement. I didn’t think that we’d be doing anything tough either, at least not until I saw Cruz come out in those fatigues like he means real business. I kind of wish that I’d brought clothing to change into.

“Thank you guys for everything,” Liam says.

I nod. “I can’t say that I feel at ease about any of this but thank you so much for explaining what you’re doing and for taking the time to even meet with us. Err, me.” Because of course they’d make time for Liam and for Cruz. They belong in this place. To this place. One day, these men will be my son’s future brothers of sorts.

Liam always wanted a sibling.

I’m so scrambled that I no longer know what to feel. Can I be split in half, with part of me thinking that maybe these guys are alright, and the other half still hating the idea of Liam joining?

Cruz motions for us to follow him. We trail after him down a long hallway. I guess that we’re going to the other side of the building. There are a whole bunch of doors on both sides of the hallway, kind of like a motel. I haven’t seen the rest of the clubhouse, but I imagine it’s nice enough. I have a thing for old architecture, especially brick buildings. I might be biased considering that I live in one. I happen to think that coffee shops serve better tasting coffee if they’re quaint and full of history.

Liam sends me yet another worried look. He’s walking slightly ahead, so it makes it easy enough for him to angle his head and send me side eyed glances. I give him a small smile just because I can’t stand to see him miserable. I try to keep my eyes on the doors after that, but they inevitably gravitate back to Cruz. He’s walking a few paces in front of us. My eyes land on his broad shoulders then unwittingly drop down. And down. Until I’m ogling his ass in those fatigues. He could wear anything, I’m sure, and that rock hard backside would look incredible.

I quickly look away and focus on nothing but the walls, doors, and floor. I hope Liam didn’t notice the exact direction and angle of my stare.