Page 44

I return flushed and distracted. Fuse gives me a side-eye but says nothing. The afternoon brings more stolen seconds. During a water break, Corbin corners me near the office. We make out like we’re both touch starved, his body pinning mine, hands everywhere—squeezing my ass, giving the familiar tug on my nipples that sends heat through me. My thigh hooks over his hip as I feel the outline of his cock pressing against me, intensifying the need to have him inside of me again. Mason passes by once, his eyes flicking to us with a guarded look. He doesn’t stop, but the weight of our secret sits heavier.

By mid-afternoon the tension is impossible to hide. I’m back on the bags, practicing my form, when Thomas saunters over, his calculating stare fixed on me.

“Busy day, huh?” His voice is casual, but his eyes dart toward Switch who’s now standing with Fuse. “You and Switch seem…real close lately.”

I keep my focus on the bag. “Just club work.”

He chuckles low. “Sure. But I remember Nicholas. I don’t think he likes anyone touching what’s his—something about loyalty? I would hate for this club to lose a member over your stupidity. Club’s got enough to deal with, without worrying about you.” The threat lands. If he digs, he might uncover Lennox and me. Blood ties are weapons here.

“Stay out of it, Thomas,” I snap, voice wavering.

He shrugs. “Just looking out for the club. Hate for Switch to get distracted…or for certain secrets to come out.” His gaze lingers before he walks off.

Rage surges to the surface, but I push it down. I can’t drag Corbin deeper. Not with Thomas watching. The next stolen moment comes before our ride back to the compound. Corbin pulls me into the shadow of a corner, mouth on mine instantly, hands sliding under my tank to pinch and roll my nipples.

“Corbin, wait—” I gasp, but he’s already grinding against me, fingers dipping into my leggings, stroking my clit.

“Need you,” he mutters, biting my earlobe. I almost give in, but Thomas’s words echo. I shove at his chest.

“Stop. We can’t keep doing this. Thomas noticed. He mentioned Nicholas…vague threats about loyalty. If he keeps digging…”

Switch’s eyes flash. “Fuck, Thomas. Let me handle him.”

“No.” I shake my head, backing away. “It’s too risky. Lennox is buried in the same club shit you are. Everything’s on edge. I need to pull back. For both of us.”

I slip away to join Fuse for the ride back. Once back at the compound, Switch keeps finding excuses to pass by—stolen glances, brief brushes—but I dodge deeper talks. One final moment near dusk, he corners me by my bike.

“Tatum, don’t shove me away,” he growls, pulling me in for one last heated kiss. I melt for a heartbeat, then push him off.

“Thomas could expose things. Nicholas. The club. My…complications.” I almost let it slip about Lennox. “Just give me space. Please.”

He looks pissed, jaw tight. “This ain’t over. You marked me. You want me. Stop making bullshit excuses. It’s getting old.”

I walk away on shaky legs. The sun sets, painting the bikes gold. Lennox emerges briefly from the clubhouse and nods at me across the lot. Brother. Secret. I can’t risk him for stolen moments with Switch, no matter how badly my body craves his cock and the way he makes me forget.

That night, I collapse on my bed, replaying every moment—the stolen touches in the shadows leaving me aching and wet, and Corbin’s persistence despite the busyness. Thomas’s threats hang like a storm cloud.

My phone vibrates, and I already know who it is.

Corbin:

I’m coming for what’s mine.

Me:

Need time. Thomas is watching. Don’t chase me right now.

Corbin:

Too late.

I don't reply, turning off my phone screen and stare at the ceiling. Sneaking around felt exhilarating, but the threats make it terrifying. Part of me wants to run to Lennox and confess, but that would shatter everything. Club life never lets you have simple desires. Everything comes with blood and risk. Tomorrow will bring more maintenance, more busyness for both Corbin and my brother, more stolen chances I’ll have to resist. But deep down, I know Corbin won’t let me shove him away forever.

And I’m not sure I want him to.

TATUM

The compound has finally slipped into that heavy, restless quiet that only comes after a long, brutal day under the blazing summer sun. The lot is mostly empty, bathed in the harsh white glow of floodlights that cast long jagged shadows across the rows of bikes parked like silent sentinels. Their engines tick softly as they cool, metal contracting in the night air. Beyond the chain-link fence, the woods whisper with life—owls calling, crickets chirping, the occasional rustle of something moving through the underbrush. Sitting on the small sofa in my room, door locked tight, my heart hammers from the weight of Thomas’s veiled threats earlier today.