This time everyone could watch full-color, 3D action with sound effects.
Fuck.
She had a denim jacket in her hand, was wearing her glasses and had her long strawberry-blonde hair pulled back from her face.
He wanted to grip that ponytail while she sucked him off until he came down her throat. He was putting that on the to-do list for later.
Her eyes followed his hand as he reached down and straightened his dick.
Her lips parted, color shot up into her cheeks, and her brown eyes heated.
Yeah, he really, really fucking liked this woman.
He might have a difficult time making it through the whole ride. Some of his brothers dropped out of formation for a quick sled screw or head job in a private spot and then caught up later, but they’d have a lot of eyeballs on them today, so he’d do his best to stick to his original plan.
“C’mere,” he murmured needlessly as she approached. As soon as she was close enough, his hand shot out, curled around the back of her neck and yanked her to him. Their bodies crashed together at the same time their lips did. He took her mouth hungrily.
He quickly lost track of time but, at the back of his mind, knew if he didn’t stop kissing her, they would be definitely skipping the run and Trip might not be happy with that. A run was the one time they were all together at once, even if it was on their sleds in the wind.
Their group rides were considered important because it was the perfect bonding time for the brotherhood. A solid brotherhood made for a solid club which helped prevent a clusterfuck like what happened with the Originals.
Like church meetings, the club runs were required. A brother better have a damn good excuse not to be on one. Sticking his dick in Chelle wouldn’t be one, though Shade would disagree.
He reluctantly broke the kiss but didn’t pull away.
“You must be happy to see me,” she teased, tilting her hips just enough to brush against his erection. Her doing that didn’t help the pressure in his balls.
“Always happy to see you, beautiful.”
A rough clearing of a throat had her stepping back and him dropping his hand from her neck.
“Gonna bring her in and introduce her?”
If it was up to Shade? No.
He turned to face his prez who stood with his hands on his hips and his ball cap tugged low as he stared at the two of them from the corner of The Barn. With his dark sunglasses and his hat, his eyes were hidden, but Shade had no fucking doubt Trip was sizing Chelle up.
It wouldn’t bother Shade as much if he didn’t know Trip saw her naked. Or at least some of her. Shade hadn’t seen the video and he’d been assured it had been deleted.
He hoped to fuck it was.
With his eyes still on Trip, Shade blindly held out his hand and didn’t move until her fingers interlaced with his. He gave them a slight squeeze and pulled her into his side.
“Chelle, Trip. Blood Fury president.”
Trip jerked up his chin. “Good meetin’ ya. Heard you’re a teacher.”
“Librarian,” she corrected.
One dark eyebrow raised above Trip’s sunglasses. “Librarian. School Daisy goes to.”
“Yes.”
“School my boys will go to.”
“Oh, you have children?”
“Workin’ on it,” Trip muttered. He jerked his head toward the front barn door. “C’mon. Everyone’s dyin’ to meet you.”
Chapter Fifteen
She was trying not to be nervous, but she was quaking a little on the inside. Especially after Shade muttered a curse under his breath and his fingers tightened around hers. That made Chelle squeeze his tighter.
The last thing she expected was for him to hold her hand. It seemed to be him claiming her, but hopefully it was more of an attempt to reassure her, instead.
They had originally decided to keep their sexual attraction, along with the rest, between them, but here she was, about to meet his “family.” Him being tense about it only made it worse for her.
She took a deep, bolstering breath as they followed the club’s president into what looked like a huge barn. Once she stepped inside the door, she realized that if it had been a real barn in the past, it was far from one now.
First, it was noisy with music blaring and people talking, laughing and shouting.
The interior reminded her of some sort of country-western bar, with a round center fireplace, wide wood-planked floors, a bar, pool tables and more. But instead of a room full of patrons wearing cowboy boots and hats, it was all leather, denim and smoke.
One thing that stood out was the men all wearing their vests declaring them members of the Blood Fury MC.
Trip peeled off from them and headed over to a tattooed woman with black hair and blue stripes. The way she was dressed, along with her physical appearance, made her look like some kind of rock star. When the club’s president dropped his arm around her shoulders, she lifted her face to him and he dropped a kiss on her lips.
“Is that his wife?” Chelle whispered. She didn’t know why she was whispering, since it was so loud in that huge space, no one would hear her anyway.
“Ol’ lady.”
She hadn’t done too much digging yet on MCs and needed to do more, but one thing she had learned so far was the meaning of “ol’ lady.”
“I assume that’s who he plans to have kids with.”
“Yeah, if he wants to keep breathin’, it’d be smart if he only knocked up Stella.”
“That would be smart, I guess,” she murmured, taking in the whole atmosphere of what he called “The Barn” in his invitation. He’d explained it was their clubhouse, the base for their MC.
“How many of you are there?”
“Dunno. Thirteen, maybe? A couple prospects. Some ol’ ladies and...” He stopped speaking.
“And?” she prodded.
“And some other women.”
Some other women.
“Like girlfriends?”
His gaze circled the interior of the barn and came back to her. “Not girlfriends.”
She remembered reading something about women, similar to groupies, who liked to hang around biker clubs.
She’d also read that the ol’ ladies, children and the “other women” were considered property of a club and, as such, were under the club’s protection. She found that a bit curious but also... archaic.
However, she’d been so busy with learning everything she could about dyslexia and getting together appropriate lesson plans, she hadn’t had time to dig any deeper. She could ask Shade a bunch of questions, but he always got tense when she asked too many, and she wasn’t sure if he’d answer them anyway.
Sometimes he acted like he never heard her question.
Though, that was a typical trait with every male she’d ever known. From her grandfather—who did it to Chelle’s grandmother until she died suddenly and then he regretted ignoring her every day for the rest of his own life—to her own husband and brother, and even her coworkers.
He tugged her hand, began to make rounds, and kind of grunted introductions to the women, who were all genuine smiles, curious looks, but super friendly, to the men wearing cuts.
She was surprised she knew some of them.
She had seen Judge, of course, a couple of times when he picked up Daisy from school. He was hard to forget. But she was finally introduced officially Shade-style, which went something like his introduction to Trip. “Judge, Chelle.” That was it.