Page 58 of Bleed Me

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Justice’s sweetness turned into aggression. Delicious motherfucking aggression. Her mouth opened, her tongue dipping and exploring, driving me wild. I tried to be a gentleman. I tried to give orders to my hungry hands, denying them purchase, but all I could convince them to do was linger in the air. They just hovered near her naked hips, waiting.

It is very possible to think they knew Justice better than me.

Breathlessly, she pulled her mouth from mine. “If you don’t fucking touch me in the next two seconds—”

Wham! My hands slammed onto her ass cheeks, grabbed a healthy handful, and pulled her in. Oh, Jesus. Her naked hips and pelvis pressed against me were like life-saving paddles to my chest. Her skin, her smell—otherworldly. I had no idea one certain girl could feel so flawless.

She moaned, “I have waited so long to feel your touch on my skin, and the first time you do, it’s that perfect?” Then she kissed me as if it was the last time she would ever have the chance.

While trying to swallow her whole, I yanked on her ass, demanding she straddle me. She did so uncompromisingly. As soon as her sensual core slid over my clothed hard-on, we both groaned into each other’s mouths. Only a piece of material was in our way—

Bzzz… Beep… Bzzz… Beep…

“No!” we both screamed at our phones, then laughed about how we may never get to fuck. It was pure torture and something we would have chosen over anything, except our club. Without our brothers, there would never have been a Justice and me. No one else would have taken a chance on me. Church Eyes would not have been in my life.

Dripping wet, we stared at our cell phones. Both read, Club. Stat.

Taking no time to dry off, and barely fully clothed, we raced home. Saint had just pulled in and was parking when we slid up next to him. Jamie snug to his back, I knew I would see her worried hazel eyes as soon as she removed her full helmet.

Jamie nor Justice were permitted to wear half-helmets like the men did. Prez’s orders. He claimed ‘pretty’ didn’t belong smeared along the concrete. Wrecks were a part of a biker’s life, no matter how good a rider you were. Too many other elements on the road to interfere with your expertise.

Turning off his bike, Saint asked, “You know what’s up?”

“Not a clue,” I answered, Justice already running for the door.

Through the entrance, and running down the stairs, Jamie was breathing hard behind me. She was quietly asking Saint, “Are we going into lockdown?”

Lockdown, from what I was told, was when our peaceful hideaway became a full-out underground bunker as if we were going to war. Jamie sounded like she had experienced it before and was alarmed.

Every time Saint spoke with her, his voice was full of strength and sincerity to keep her calm. “Not sure yet, Pretty Girl, but I got you.”

At the bottom of the stairs, I was surprised to find the Barn full of brothers, all staring at us, not saying shit. With the way they were glaring, I stepped behind Justice and grabbed her shoulders, not sure if I needed to pick her up and run back up the stairs.

Standing at my side, Saint lifted his chin. “Lynx, we good?” Gently, he took hold of Jamie’s hand that was playing with longer hair that didn’t exist. It was a nervous habit of hers. When she got worked up, she would forget her hair was not as long as it once was. It was haunting to witness.

It didn’t shock me that Lynx spoke to Saint first; they were tight as fuck. Saint was like a son to Lynx. Maybe that is why his scowl softened slightly when he answered, “We’re good, kid. Bring Pretty Girl over here and have a seat.”

Immediately, I looked for Dagger. He was already watching me, his hand low, telling me to settle. I took a deep breath. That man wouldn’t lead me into danger.

As Saint guided Jamie away, he peered over his shoulder and mouthed, “What’d you do?”

I had no fucking clue until I heard a sniffle.

Justice’s and my head swiveled to the right, right where Brat was standing with a crying Sapphire. Ah, shit. In my hands, Justice’s shoulders caved.

We both regarded Lynx again and waited.

He shook his head, totally frustrated. “I knew somethin’ was up with this sudden ‘claim’ of Saph.”

My eyes raced back to Brat. My head tilted, not with confusion but with warning. I was silently saying, You fuckin’ with me?

“Uh, huh,” sneered my President. “Brat has asked to claim Saph. What a coincidence, since Elle just saw her pukin’ this morning.” He adjusted his stance, resting his hands behind his back. “Giver, I’m talking to you only. Anyone else pops off at the mouth, I will pop you with a bullet.” No one said shit. Prez was eerily pissed. “James Fucking Gunn Dalton, seeing how you have also made somewhat of an unofficial claim today—on your Road Captain, none-the-less—mind telling me what the fuck is going on here? Your bunny is jumpin’ ship.”

I stepped around Justice to face this lashing without her in the line of fire. “I have no quarrels with Brat claiming Sapphire if she wants to be with him.” I struggled with what else to say, not sure how much Lynx wanted to discuss in front of the whole club.

His grey eyes squinted. “But you have quarrels.” It wasn’t a question. It was Prez reading me like his sister did.