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"Alright, let's start with the biggest problem we've got at hand right now," Mom began. "Amelia bombed the ATL's warehouse under my orders. She suspects that the ATL have been stealing guns and drugs from other clubs. If they find out we were the ones to blow up that warehouse, shit’s going to go downhill—fast."
I glared at her. "Which is exactly why you don't fucking act on your own," I harshly reminded her. "Decisions like you decided to make are supposed to be club decisions."
Dad slammed his hand flat on the table. "Cole, that's enough. Keep your personal problems away from the table."
I glared at him. Personal problems? My mother—his wife—just fucking decided to jeopardize both fucking clubs because she was more worried about her fucking shipment of guns than doing things the fucking smart way! Because of her idiotic actions, a club member was injured. How in the hell was that personal?
I jumped up, sending my chair flying back against the wall. "I'm not listening to this shit. Let me know what you fucking decide to do."
My mother glared at me from her seat. "Cole, don't you walk out of this room. We can't make any permanent decisions without you at this table."
Gritting my teeth, I spun on my heel and stormed back over, leaning over her with a glare. She leaned back a little, clearly intimidated by me. I ignored my father calling my name and telling me to back up. "When you made the decision to have Amelia blow up the ATL's warehouse, you lost any respect I held for you, do you understand that? Back down, Mom. I will do as I fucking please. Until everyone in this rooms realizes the danger you not only put Amelia in but also this club, I refuse to sit at this fucking table and discuss business with you, understand?"
I stood back up to my full height and stormed out of the room, slamming the door closed behind me. Amelia was at her usual place at the bar, talking to Clayton. She was walking fine with only a slight limp in her walk. She said her leg barely bothered her.
Fuck, I was still so pissed off about her leg.
I walked over, interrupting their conversation. But I didn't give a damn. I needed a release, and I wanted Amelia.
I slid my arms under Amelia's legs and around her shoulders and lifted her up, holding her to my chest. "Cole, what are you doing?!" she shrieked.
I smirked down at her, loving her cute, frustrated face. "I'm taking you to my room, and I'm going to fuck you hard, Amelia. Do you have a problem with that?" I asked as I walked down the hall to my room.
She wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me deeply. I'd take that as a'no, I don't have a problem with it.'
* * *
Amelia
Cole laidme down on his bed and slid on top of me, pulling my shirt over my head. His lips aggressively met mine, and I moaned, opening my mouth to him, allowing him to slide his tongue against mine. He reached under me and unclipped my bra. Then, his lips left mine to make their way down my neck, sucking on the spots that left me moaning and writhing beneath him.
"Fuck, I love it when you moan like that, baby," he praised, moving to my breasts.
He sucked a nipple into his mouth. I threw my head back against his mattress. "Cole," I moaned, already breathless. Fuck, he knew how to use his mouth.
"That's it, baby. Say my name.”
I slid his cut off of him and tossed it aside. Surprisingly, he didn't protest against me throwing it on the floor. Club men were very serious about their cuts. Their cuts never touched the floor unless it was on their backs. To a man in the club, their cut was like the Bible was to a priest.
I slipped his t-shirt over his head next, holding back my wince of pain at the movement in my shoulder, and moaned a little at the sensation of his skin on mine. He was all hard muscle, and it went perfectly with my soft skin. I knew he felt it too by the way he pressed his body into mine a little bit more. We fit perfectly together; it was such a shame we didn't get along outside of the bedroom.
He dipped his tongue into my belly button. I whimpered and arched my back off of the bed. Fuck, I couldn't wait to have his tongue inside of me.
He unbuttoned my jeans and slid them down my legs gently, not once letting them rub the burn on my leg. He looked at my thong and a smirk slid its way onto his lips. "You should wear these for me more often," he said, pulling them down my legs. "They look fucking amazing on you."
Before I could reply, he had his head between my legs and was sliding his tongue over my clit. I moaned his name loudly, arching my back off the bed. His large hand splayed over my stomach, and he pushed me back down, holding me in place. He slid his tongue into my cunt. I gasped, my hands digging into his soft hair. "Oh God, Cole,” I whimpered.
He slid his hands up my body, tweaking my nipples. I shattered, crying out his name. Before I could come down, he slid up my body and pushed my legs further apart, kissing me as he entered me. My moan was swallowed by his lips.
Cole didn't hold back; he immediately began to slam into me. His fingers laced through mine, pinning them to the bed beside my head. We moved together, our moans and his grunts filling the room. When I came, he came with me, our names leaving the other's mouth.
My eyelids fluttered closed afterward, and I sighed in contentment, completely fucking sated. Cole rolled over onto his back, pulling me with him. He ran his fingers through my hair and held me to him with an arm wrapped around me.
It was strangely domesticated, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.
I couldn't fall asleep in here with him. If I did, I would only fall harder for him, and I wasn't willing to do that. It would only break my heart when I saw him with one of the club women tomorrow.
I moved away from him. He looked up at me as I sat up. "Don't think you're leaving," his gruff voice spoke into the darkness.
