I grind myself into her slowly. Soon I’m rewarded with her eyes rolling back and quivering in her legs.
“That’s it,” I whisper, nipping at her neck. “You’re so fucking wet. Feel so good squeezing my cock.”
It’s heaven inside her mixed with the hell of not blowing the second she clenches around me. “Keep coming. Keep coming for me,” I urge, thrusting in and out of her faster.
“Logan!” she shrieks with a wild intensity I feel in my balls.
I pound into her like furious waves against soft sand.
“Logan,” she whispers, pulling me down, fusing her lips with mine. I curl my arms under her body, holding her tight while I erupt inside her.
I groan into her hair, wildly jerking my hips over and over. My body shudders as her sharp nails dig into my shoulders.
Releasing her with a satisfied groan, I roll to the side. Both of us stare at the ceiling, panting and sweaty. She curls her fingers around mine and squeezes.
“I think you just showed me a whole new universe of stars,” she whispers.
A primal need to fully possess her pounds through my body.
I know exactly what I need to do next.
Chapter Sixty-One
Rooster
Sunlight streams in through the window, demanding I get my ass out of bed.
Today’s the day.
Shelby’s all sleepy and I don’t want to wake her yet. I slide out of bed slowly and close the curtains, blocking as much sunlight as possible.
After a quick trip to the bathroom, I get dressed and head downstairs. The living room is empty and quiet. The war room door is ajar but it’s dark inside.
The dining room’s where I finally find signs of life. Rock, Z, Dex, and Jigsaw having coffee.
“Cock-a-doodle-do,” Z greets me.
“Morning.” I study the four of them again. “You planning a road trip?”
“Not exactly,” Rock answers.
While I puzzle that out, I head toward the bar and pour myself a mug of coffee.
“What’s up?” I ask as I take the chair next to Jiggy.
“Supposed to snow this week,” Rock says.
“Fuck. This early?”
“It’ll probably be back to the seventies a day later,” Dex says. “No point puttin’ all the bikes away yet.”
“When Murphy shows up,” Rock glances out the window, “I thought we’d discuss our friends out west.”
“Which ones?” I ask. “Demons? Or support club?”
“I was talking about the support club.” Rock frowns at me. “Why? Was there an issue at the party?”
The way Rock and Z seemed to react to Chaser’s new family member seemed to suggest we have issues. “The situation with Chaser’s brother? Or half-brother. Are we really cool with him rolling through our territory whenever he wants?”
“No,” Z answers. “Chaser kind of put us on the spot, springing it on us like that.”
Rock snorts and sits back. “Stump should’ve retired years ago. Chaser’s more cunning than his father ever was.”
“I don’t know,” I say carefully, not wanting to seem like I’m jumping to defend Chaser. “He didn’t look thrilled about the situation himself.”
“He mention any of this to you when you were all buddy-buddy in Nashville?” Z asks.
I roll my eyes. “We weren’t ‘buddy-buddy.’ Most of what we talked about was music-related.”
“Like?” Rock prompts.
“I don’t know. Stuff about Dawson.” I reconsider the conversation. “I think he was trying to reassure me Dawson isn’t a sleaze and Shelby would be okay working with him.”
“Huh.” Z’s gaze slides Rock’s way.
Rock shrugs. He seems to be losing interest in this topic, thank fuck.
“What if Chaser wants out of the MC?” Dex asks.
All four of us stare at him.
“Stump’s father was one of the founders of that MC,” Rock says.
Dex shrugs. “So? Dylan doesn’t seem to be interested in taking over. He hasn’t patched-in yet.”
“Chaser didn’t fully patch-in until later, either,” Rock points out.
“Demons are like the Amish. They give you some time off to go out into the world before committing yourself to the community.” Z snaps his fingers. “What’s it called?”
“Rumspringa?” Jigsaw offers. “Clearly, you’ve never met any Amish or Mennonites, Prez.”
“Same idea,” Z argues.
“If we’re done with the Sunday school lesson…” Rock lifts his chin at Dex. “What made you say that?”
“He’s gettin’ older.” Dex shrugs. “Sounds like he’s getting back into music. These half-brothers who magically appeared have cartel ties. He already spent the last thirty years puttin’ up with the Russians. Maybe he’s done.”
“Wouldn’t fuckin’ blame him,” Z says. “Rojas was no joke. I’m sure his sons are just as delightful.”
“So, what’s he gonna do? Close up shop?” Rock asks.
“We just saw the Wolf Knights shut down a charter,” Dex reminds him. “Ten years ago, we never thought they’d do that.”
“True.” Rock rubs his hand over the back of his neck. “We can’t hold down territory all the way to Buffalo. Not without a lot more bodies.”
“I wouldn’t get ahead of ourselves, Prez,” I say. While I understand, and don’t necessarily disagree with, Dex’s idea, there’s no point in speculating now. We have plenty to keep us busy. “If he wants out, he’s got other people who will run that charter.”
“Who? Grudge?” Z taps the side of his head. “He’s all brawn, not a lot of brains.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Rock says. “But, yeah, I don’t see him running things either.” He slaps his hand on the table. “Rooster’s right. It’s out of our control, so let’s not worry about it until we have to.”
“All I was trying to say is that bringing the support club into the fold now, rather than later, might be a good idea,” Dex says.
“Excellent,” Rock agrees with a hearty smirk. “That can be your winter project.”
Dex opens his mouth, absorbs the don’t argue look on Rock’s face, and quickly closes it.
Since this conversation seems to be over, I finish my coffee and tap Jiggy’s shoulder. “Come outside with me?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“What’s up?” he asks as soon as we’re in the parking lot.
No reason to dance around the subject. “I’m proposing to Shelby today.”
He closes his eyes briefly. “About fucking time. I was starting to wonder if you ate the damn ring and were waiting to shit it out or something.”
“What?” I stare at him. “Why…what the fuck is wrong with you?”
“Why are you telling me?”
“I want to do it here.”
“Why here?”
Because this is where Shelby and I admitted to each other we hadn’t been seeing anyone else and wanted to explore where things between us could go. “None of your business.”