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I sweep her into my arms and carry her away from the kitchen. She’s thrown off judging by the shriek that she releases, but I don’t give a damn. I’m taking the woman that belongs to me back to my bed to claim her in more ways than one.
* * *
There’s a lot of things to sort through in the aftermath of our fight against the Hellrazors and Road Reapers. Both MCs have been reduced to a fraction of the size they once were, at our hands. With the Road Reapers, we had a real case of sabotage.
But, beyond informing Tom his previous lover Velma was a spy all along, I take the first few days to focus on the club’s unity.
Fuck the Hellrazors. Fuck the Road Reapers even more.
My family is the Steel Kings. The men in the club that feel like brothers. Some as good as uncles and even fucking fathers.
These are the people I owe my attention to. My loyalty.
We throw a huge party. Celebrating what? None of us give a damn.
We’re celebrating ourselves. Our fuckingsurvival.
We’re the dominant MC in the whole county. The Reapers failed to sabotage us and the Hellrazors suffered severe consequences of the war that was going on.
Our reign has never been stronger. Our numbers bigger. Our dominance more obvious.
The Steel Kings ain’t going nowhere, which seems like a pretty damn good reason to celebrate if you ask me.
The Steel Saloon packs to max capacity. Every club member, every last prospect and regular ever known, fills the place. The club girls go all out, putting on a Tits on Heels performance that has men foaming at the mouth and fucking them like there’s no tomorrow at the first chance they get.
Ozzie serves as DJ. He plays a wide selection of music from ’80s hard rock to modern shit that gets him booed by older guys but also cheered by some of the younger ones.
Mick goes all out with the alcohol. He has the taps flowing like rivers and a seemingly endless supply of any alcohol you want. All hands are on deck helping him. Every barmaid we have on staff.
Including Sydney at first… ’til I greedily pull her away.
“Mace—” she protests, looking tempted to grab onto the counter and resist my pull.
I snatch her away anyway. She’s looking so fucking good in another summer dress that flutters around her thighs and holds on by thin straps on her shoulders. It’s a delicate tangerine-orange fabric that looks so mesmerizing against her dark brown skin that I can’t stand it. I’m reduced to a dumb beast the second I see her in it.
All I want to do is get her in my bed and pump her full of my cum ’til she physically can’t hold any more. ’Til I’ve filled her up so much I’m pouring out of her.
I growl into her neck, nuzzling her, as I wrap an arm around her waist and hold her close.
Sydney makes me crazy. Her presence. Her smile. Her scent.
It all awakens the most primal senses inside me. Which says a lot for a man that’s already pretty fucking uncivilized.
She giggles and grabs hold of my rough face, looking me eye-to-eye like she recognizes I’m a beast that’s about to lose control. Like she knows if she keeps eye contact, she can talk me down from the ledge.
Down, boy.
“Later,” she breathes against my lips.
“What if I want now?”
“It’s hotter when you wait,” she murmurs back, then smirks as she teases a kiss. A gentle brush of her lips to mine.
I growl in response and squeeze her ass. My hand’s so large that it grabs a large chunk of her ass meat and holds it firmly, enough that she shudders against me.
It’s crazy how much I want this woman. How much I need her.
If you asked me only a few weeks ago, I would’ve laughed in your face if you ever insinuated I’d care about a woman in Pulsboro. The women I did bed were out of necessity, an attempt to stave off blue balls, more than anything. None of them held my interest, and none of them damn sure deserved to be my old lady.
