Page 19 of April’s Fool

At the Devil’s Riot clubhouse, they don’t dress this provocatively. Kenny and Izzy would both hand them their asses if they did. But here, there are no kids or even women around who look to be claimed by club members.

Sitting at a round table, I spot Hazard with a few others I had met a week ago, playing cards. A couple of women are either leaning over the men, sitting in their laps, or just standing nearby. Other women walk around or preoccupy themselves with other guys I haven’t met yet.

A few of the women see me and shoot me dirty looks. I know from the stories I’ve heard in the past that these women don’t take kindly to others coming in on what they claim is theirs.

“Come on, we’ll go set your stuff up in my room,” Fool says, guiding me across the room toward a set of stairs.

“Your room?” I tilt my head slightly to give him a questioning look.

“Yeah, sweets, you’re staying in my room this weekend. We don’t have any extra rooms right now.”

Well, that makes sense, but I’ve never slept in the same bed with a guy before. What if I snore? Kayla and Mercy would know, but they’ve said nothing, and I haven’t asked them. Maybe I should text our group chat to ask. Then again, they’ll know where I am this weekend and start prying me with questions I’m not sure I want to answer. No, I just need to suck it up and hope I don’t, because that would be totally embarrassing if I do.

In no time, Fool has us up in his room and tosses the bag of mine he’s carrying onto the bed. He doesn’t have much in here besides a bed, dresser, and a nightstand. There’s a TV mounted on the wall, and that’s it. What surprises me is how neat his room is. Nothing looks out of order. Well, nothing but his bed.

“Toss your backpack on the bed, and we’ll go down, get you a drink or whatever you want, some food, and talk to Cannon,” he says, keeping a small distance between us.

Other than the ride on his bike, he’s kept his distance, even though I wish he’d close the gap and kiss me as he did a week ago. Since we’ve been apart, his mouth on mine has been the subject of my dreams. I even daydreamed about it during classes when I should have been paying attention to my professors. Thankfully, I have a note-taking app on my laptop that I use if I miss something, so I can go back to it for reference.

“Sure,” I say nervously, and slip my pack off my back, setting it gently on the bed. I want nothing to happen to my laptop. It cost me a pretty penny because it’s top of the line.

Turning back to Fool, I realize he’s closed in on me, leaving barely a gap between us, as if he read my mind or something.

My breath seizes in my lungs as his arms wrap around me and he pulls me into him.

“Never had a woman on the back of my bike, not even my ex,” he says, one hand still curled around my waist, the other moving into my hair. “Never wanted anyone riding at my back. But I enjoyed having you there.” His admission is clear in his tone, and it tightens my chest.

“I haven’t ridden with anyone else besides my dad,” I tell him, speaking the truth. “Riding with him was always fun. He didn’t mind my riding with him whenever he was around.”

Kayla and Mercy would sometimes ride with their dads when they were little, but as they got older, that changed, and neither of them rode with anyone. Not even their brothers. Those seats are sacred to some men, reserved strictly for their ol’ ladies. Dad, though, didn’t have that rule. He’d take me out whenever he could. My mom hated it and would bitch at me every chance she got.

“Want you on my bike every chance I can get.” His hand tightens in my hair, and he forces my head back as his comes down. His lips brush against mine. “Been waiting all week to get another taste of you. Missed this mouth, sweets.”

My lips part, and Fool takes the opportunity to plunge his tongue into my mouth. The taste of him explodes across my tongue—mint and something uniquely Fool. My hands grip his cut, fingers curling into the leather as his kiss deepens. This isn’t like the gentle first kiss we shared. This is hungry, demanding, as if he’s been starving for me all week.

When he finally pulls back, my lips feel swollen, my breathing ragged. My senses make me feel dizzy.

“The taste of you is even better than I remember.”

“Beck,” I breathe, holding tight to him.

“Like the sound of my name on your lips. Can’t wait to hear it when I’m doing other things to you,” he rasps, brushes his lips against mine once more, then pulls away. “Let’s get back downstairs before I find other things for us to do.”

Between my thighs, I feel a throbbing ache, a desperate need that makes my knees weak. I bite my lower lip, trying to compose myself as Fool’s eyes darken, clearly noticing my reaction.

“We should definitely go downstairs,” I agree.

“Come on.”

He takes my hand, his fingers intertwining with mine as he leads me back downstairs. My body still hums from his touch, from that devastating kiss. The clubhouse feels different now—louder, with music and voices, but everything feels sharper, more intense.

As we descend the stairs, I notice several of the women eyeing us suspiciously. One in particular, a redhead with a body that could stop traffic, glares at me with open hostility. She’s practically draped over a guy at the bar, yet her gaze is fixed on Fool’s hand as it holds mine.

“Don’t mind them,” Fool murmurs, leaning close to my ear. “They’ll get used to you.”

I nod as he guides me to the table where Hazard and Cannon are still sitting with the same guys I saw earlier, but the women are all missing. He pulls out a chair, sits, and tugs me down onto his lap.

“April,” Cannon greets me with a slight nod of his chin.