Wildman
Staring up at the ceiling, this time from a different position, he slowly stroked a palm up and down Jussie’s back. From her shoulders, all the way down to those dimples in her ass that were so bitable, and a gentle return sweep up to the vulnerable nape of her neck. She was nestled against his side, cheek to the hollow of his shoulder, with a delicate hand resting flat against his chest. Fits me like a goddamned glove, no matter what we’re doin’. His smile was satisfied, his chest and head filled with hope and confidence that this time, this woman, this was where he was meant to be.
Boots up the stairs had him cocking an ear to the door, so the instant a single knuckle thumped quietly against the wood, he was already shifting her to the side, replacing his chest with a pillow and pulling the blanket up around her shoulders. Unbolting the door, he opened it a little, standing to protect Jussie from view. “Yeah?” he asked Pony, who had a happy smirk in place on his face. “Fuck you need?”
“Her keys. She’s parked out near the road, so I wanna bring it in closer, make it easier to watch now most folks have headed out.”
She hadn’t held a purse, and he remembered her bared-torso twirl from when she’d imagined needing to prove she wasn’t a plant. “Gimme a minute.” He closed the door against Pony’s chuckle, shaking his head at his brother’s amusement. “Jussie, baby.” He leaned close, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Where’re your keys, honey?”
“Behind the visor. It’s not locked.” She didn’t move, which meant she’d been more awake than he’d thought. “Tell him thanks from me.”
The message passed through the slightly cracked door, he was about to close it when Pony paused. “Wild, you should know. Mason’s downstairs.”
“What the fuck, man? Are you shittin’ me?” She just fuckin’ got here and he’s already in our business?
“Don’t shoot the messenger, brother. He came to talk to Twisted, but he noted the car on the lot. It’s hers, not a rental, and he tagged the Florida plates first thing. He hasn’t asked about her, but you can see him lookin’. However, he has asked for you, somethin’ like four times already.” Pony shrugged. “Twisted just keeps sayin’, ‘Wild who?’ like he’s a dumbass, and you can see it’s chappin’ Mason’s ass. Kinda funny in a way.”
“Shit.” Wildman made a quick calculation and knew there was no way anyone would be able to block Mason for long. “Tell Twisted quiet-like we’ll be down in a bit, gonna take the back stairs, come in from the kitchens.”
“Agreed it might be best if you didn’t come down the center stairs like a parade, pushin’ it in his face you’re dickin’ his sister.” Pony’s nod held as much sarcastic humor as a movement like that could. “Good call, brother. Good fuckin’ call.”
“Oh, fuck you.” He reached out and gripped Pony’s shoulder. “Thanks, man.”
“I’d say anytime, but hopefully you’ll take the loud action home next time, or at least wait until we don’t have a houseful of kids askin’ who’s bein’ murdered upstairs.” He shook his head. “Brothers have had to deal with some shit from their ole ladies on this one, brother. Funny as fuck.”
“Shit.” He chuckled through the word, already anticipating the brushing elbows and “way to go” looks. “We had ourselves a little reunion.” He gripped his bare dick and tugged. He was behind the door, but knew the movement was unmistakable. “Might need to reunite a tad more before we come downstairs.”
“Your funeral, man.” Pony’s laughter was quiet as he turned and walked away, shaking his head. “Your goddamned funeral.”
“Jussie?” He bolted the door and turned to see she hadn’t moved, remained with her cheek on the pillow, hand resting on top of it. On second look, he saw her palm was no longer flattened but had been covered by her fingers, hand in a tight fist. “Sounds like you and me need a shower, then we’ll dress and head downstairs.”
Sitting on the edge of the mattress, he propped a leg up, resting his thigh along the curve of her ass. Eyes closed, she was breathing evenly, slowly, and if he hadn’t already memorized every expression and movement of her so far, he might have believed she was sleeping. He used the back of his hand to pop the soft flesh of her lower cheek, just where it joined the top of her thigh, knowing the covers would blunt the pain. It got the reaction he’d looked for, her eyes opening and head turning just enough to bring her gaze to him. The expression on her face was so open and vulnerable, he immediately abandoned his position to crawl under the covers behind her, wrapping her up in his arms to erase any space between them.
“Baby,” he crooned, dusting kisses across her shoulder and up the side of her neck. “My baby.” His lips dragged along the edge of her jaw until he found her mouth, which he took possession of, molding their lips together in a hot kiss. Every touch was in sync, and they worked together as her fingers found his wrists, holding his hands in place around her. “My Jussie.” He rested his cheek against hers, closing his eyes when he saw she’d shut hers.
“I have a son.”
Her words stilled his movements, and he stared at the inside of his lids for two breaths before responding.
“I nearly had a child once. Dead in my wife’s belly, killed by my blood brother. Colder than cold, and still hurts, even if I dealt with everything I could at the time.” He knew the story about Christopher Camp. Of course he did. It was one of the larger markers he’d given to Retro. But he wanted to hear her version, needed it from her like a gift, and if it required him peeling back the pain of his past a little to ease her way, he’d do that a thousand times over. “She and the child still inside her are buried in a little grove in southern Florida. Officially missing, unless her folks had her declared. That’s been—” He had to do a quick calculation. “Way too many years ago now. Fuck, I hadn’t counted up the years in a long-ass time, baby. Shit. The days just rack up, don’t they?”
“Chris, his name is Christopher, is a little older than that. Married with two kids. He lives in Louisville with his family.” She laughed, the sound wet and painful, his arm underneath her head damp with tears. He knew he couldn’t console her, not yet. She needed to get this out of her somehow, and he was the catalyst and the cure, all at once. He just had to pick the time to soothe her. “I don’t… I don’t see him.”
“Do you want to?” Wildman didn’t know what it would entail, but if his Jussie wanted it, he’d upend heaven and hell to make it happen for her. She shook her head and shuddered, curling into a tighter ball, and he followed her with his body, keeping the zero space between them as best he could. “Want regular reports, then? Just to check in, know what’s goin’ on? You tell me, Jussie, and I’ll make it happen, baby.”
“It was club business that took him from me.” Wildman stilled in place, not sure what her statement meant. “Your…” She took a tiny breath, then a larger one, pushing the words out on a huge exhale. “Your wife and child, was it club business?”
“Yeah. Was in a shit club because my half-brother was there, and I had it in my head he needed me at his back. Hurricane season came, and a storm swept through, takin’ half the members’ roofs with it. I helped get everybody back on their feet. Service to the club, you know? Powell Durrell, that was my brother, thought it was ambition on my part. So he called in a bullshit claim to the dominant club in the area, paid for a paper with my name on it. Shit happened”—understatement, but she don’t need to know I killed him—“and he got hurt, died at the hospital. I went home, and the man he’d hired was sittin’ at my kitchen table, eating the cold food Shelly had made for me. I dealt with him, then went looking for her. Dead in our bed, and the only blessing was she didn’t look scared.” He scoffed. “So yeah, club business you could say. I dropped that club like a hot potato, separated from them with prejudice and little care. Wandered for a bit, a long bit, but wound up in Louisiana. Took a couple of false starts, but I found my home, you know what I mean? Incoherent is me, and I am IMC. I know you get it, know you understand. No more shit clubs for me, baby. Found the club, and now I’ve found you, if you’ll have me.”
“Her name was Shelly?”
He mouthed at her ear until he could get her earlobe between his teeth, clamping down gently, not aiming to cause pain. “Yeah, Shelly. Out of the two of us, she was the ambitious one, always saw more in my future than I could see.”
“What do you see in your future now?” She twisted in his arms, facing him, giving him a view of her pain-swollen eyes, red from weeping. He thought she’d never been more beautiful.
“You, Jussie.” He kissed her hard and fast, had her gasping into his mouth within moments as he shifted over her, falling into the cradle she made with her legs like he’d been with her a thousand times. “You, and only you.” He tested the waters with the palm of his hand, then a pair of fingers diving deep, finding her wet and ready.
Wildman held his breath when she rolled the condom on for him, her fingers dancing delicately along his shaft, paying close attention to the tip where she’d left an ambitious reservoir for his release. Then he was inside her again, slipping slowly between her intimate lips, clutched tightly in her arms.
They moved together like a dance, her hips rising as he thrust deep, taking as much of each other as they could. It was slow and sweet, and when she came with his name on her lips, he let the recognition that she was here, with him, carry him over the edge, falling so close behind her Justine was still spasming around him as he filled that pinched tip of the condom, his mind imagining what it would be like when he could take her bare, pushing the white semen back inside her with the tip of his dick, make her come with his mouth as he lapped her clean. That forced another few jerks from his dick, each movement inside her making her gasp until he covered her mouth with his again. He kissed her as his dick softened enough he had to pull back, ease out, holding the edge of the condom in place with finger and thumb.
“Okay.” Her breathing had slowed considerably, but the word still sounded labored.
“Okay?” He questioned her as he disposed of the condom, turned on the hot water in the shower, and came back into the room, lifting her in his arms before he walked them back to the bathroom. “Just okay, baby? Damn, woman, I’m already losin’ my touch? Fuck, hurt a man, would ya?”
Her easy giggle felt like a miracle, and he smiled as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. Feet on the floor, she cocked a hip against the counter, uncaring of her nakedness as he stared at her. Steam billowed from the shower, and he reached in, adjusting the temperature to one that would be tolerable for them both.
“Okay, as in ‘okay, I’m ready to go downstairs and face my brother down,’ okay.” Her palm landed in the center of his chest, and he covered it with his hand. “Not a criticism of your lovemaking prowess.”
“Well, thank God for that.” He pretended to wipe sweat from his brow. “I nearly couldn’t tell if you even enjoyed it, woman.”
After dressing, he led her down the back stairs hand in hand, about to take the turn that would lead them outside and around the rear of the clubhouse when she slowed. Her fingers clutched at him with desperate strength. “Jussie?” He turned and caught her in his arms, pulling her close. “What is it?”
“I think I do.”
Wildman stroked down the fall of hair draped across her upper back, slowly traveling from her scalp to her shoulder blades, then again. He waited for her to elaborate, because he couldn’t for the life of him think what she might be referring to. He’d dropped a load of info on her tonight, and at least her response to whatever had tripped her up was positive.
“You asked if I’d like to see Chris.”
He hummed softly, his arms tightening around her to fend off whatever might be coming. “Mmhmm. And if you want it, I’ll make it happen. Let me do my thang, and I’ll sort out the best way.”
“I don’t want him to know about me.” Her immediate terror was stark, fingers clawing at his chest as she tried to thrust her arms between them, fruitlessly attempting to push away. “He can’t know about me.”
“I got it, babe. You wanna lay eyes on him. Have a chance to make sure with your own five senses how he’s happy and healthy, and has a good life. That your sacrifices were worth it, the pain you still feel, the way you’ve got a hollow spot inside you, because he’s good. I got it, Jussie.”
“Yeah.” Her breaths came short and labored, bursts of panted air gusting across his chest and neck. “Yeah, please. That’s what I’d like. Just to know.”
“Then…” He gave her a squeeze, holding tight until she slipped her arms around his waist. “I’ll make it happen.”
They stood like that for a few breaths longer, then he pulled back and tipped her chin up with a bent knuckle. “You good to face the squad?” She rolled her eyes but pulled in a bracing breath before she nodded, so he knew she might be able to pull it off, but she was still more vulnerable than she’d like to be, given what was waiting on them. “Okay, then, let’s do this damn thing. I’m right here, and I don’t want you anywhere but next to me. You needa take a piss, take me with, yeah?”
“You want to go to the bathroom with me?” She stiffened then snuggled her cheek against his bicep, slipping around to stand next to him, fingers threading through his belt loops. With an even tone Justine told him, “That’s either kinky or a Daddy need.”
“Never had that before, but maybe it’s a little of both, babe. I just want you safe and protected, and there’s a fuckton of unknowns here tonight.” He pulled her hand loose from his clothing and fit his fingers between hers. “You and me, we’ll figure ourselves out, every single day. Don’t matter if it’s the same as the one before, or we need somethin’ a little different that day. I’m tellin’ you now that we can adjust on the fly. We get done with this tonight, and you’re on the back of my bike, babe. We’re gonna go to my house and be there until you have to leave. I’ll let Twisted know I’m out of commission for—how long do you have?” They should have had this conversation earlier, and not on a public landing within the house, with his brothers and her blood brother nearly within hearing distance.
“I have two weeks, but I need to be back sooner to check on my momma. She’s in a home in Adken and gets upset if I’m gone too long.”
“We’ll take a road trip, you can see her in a few days, and then we’ll circle back to here in time for you to head home.” She stiffened, muscles growing tense. “Baby, you don’t have to try and intro me to her. This is me trying to give you what you need, while still takin’ what I want.”
“It’s just the idea of her meeting you is…good.” She laughed nervously, the sound jarring and sharp-edged. “Which is weird, because it might upset her, and normally I’d be a country mile on the other side of anything that might have that result. But meeting you, even if she didn’t remember it the next day…” She laughed again, this more settled, low and easy. “That feels good. I’m being weird, I know. You don’t have to—”
“Justine LaPorte, you’re not being weird.” Wildman turned to face her, cupping her cheeks in his palms and tilting her face up towards his. “And I won’t sit here and listen to my beautiful woman putting herself down.” Pressing their lips together in a dry, soft peck, he kept his eyes open, watching as her lids fluttered closed, lashes brushing against the apple of her cheek. “That’s a hard limit for me, baby. I’m not blind to flaws, and God knows I got enough of my own, but I won’t allow you to be unreasonably hard on yourself. There’s enough assholes out there in this mean old world who’ll be fuckin’ happy as a clam to do it for you. So knock it the fuck off, hear me?”
She leaned forwards, forehead thumping against his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her again, waiting.
“Definitely a little bit of Daddy there.”
“And you fuckin’ love it.”
“I thought I loved pain.” This was low and ragged, the words exiting her body on a rough exhale.
“I think you do. Fuck, woman, I know you do. It turns you on like nobody’s business. But you like to be controlled, too. No.” He shook his head as she pulled back and looked up. “Not controlled, but you like to selectively give up control. Make it so you don’t have to think, make a decision, or determine a path forward. You like giving that up to someone you trust. I’d bet big money on your previous playmates being more traditional Doms, mysterious scenes requiring you go with the flow, and then aftercare, which you probably liked just as much, or maybe even more than everything else, no matter how deep you’d gone. Am I right?”
“Yeah.” She blinked, and the sparkle of unshed tears were like diamonds on her lashes. “Got it in one, Wild.”
“We get to my house, we’ll talk more about what we both want in that arena. Right now—” He reached down and adjusted his hard cock, so it lay more comfortably along his hip. “Right now, we gotta get to and through the meet-n-greet portion of the evening, and then we’ll get the fuck outta Dodge, yeah?”
“Yeah.” She fit herself against his front, her fingers grazing along the length of his dick, nails scraping across the denim fabric. “And then this is my play toy again.”
He groaned into her hair, hips thrusting. With a sigh, he pulled back, gathered her hand up in his with a gentle squeeze, and turned her with a determined push. “Downstairs, now.” They took the stairs side by side, went out into the humid Louisiana air, and he was glad for Twisted’s insistence on citronella because there wasn’t a single mosquito to mar Justine’s skin with a welt. That’s my job, he thought darkly, and stifled a chuckle.
We get to my house we’ll have the discussion.
It wasn’t like him to play without understanding his partner’s hard, and more importantly, their soft limits, the ones he could push and tweak, looking for the interest that made a gray area of consent. He had a feeling that, like him, Justine would have her information on the tip of her tongue, readily available. And the tiniest twinge of jealousy he felt for the why—can just go fuck itself. She was with him now, no one else.
She came to me.
Not once, during the confusing time surrounding her rescue, but twice now, both of her own volition. This time, she’d been seeking more than a hot cock to help her rise above her experiences.
This time she wanted the whole shebang.
He opened the back door to the clubhouse, nodding at the prospect standing next to it, and followed Justine through. His hand slipped underneath the waistband of her jeans, fingertips resting just above the crease of her ass. The sound levels had decreased from before, and he no longer heard the running thuds of children’s footsteps. A glance at the clock over the sink said he and Justine had been upstairs far longer than he’d thought, and he smirked. Mason’s gonna have a good idea what was takin’ so long. Now to see if the man could look past the personal relationship his sister had with an officer of a rival club and be sweet to her. If he doesn’t— “Justine, this is your only warning. Your brother gives you shit above a level I think is warranted, which is less than ankle-high, if you get my meaning, then I’m gonna shut him down. I wasn’t kidding when I said there were assholes out to tear a body down, any chance they get. If he’s one of those, then I’ll drop the hammer on him in a heartbeat.”
She laughed, the delicate belling of her humor preceding them into the main room, so everyone within twenty feet of the door was watching as they walked through.
“He’s not like that.” She leaned against his side, and he adjusted his hold, draping his arm over her shoulder. Her fingers threaded through his belt loops again, and he reached back with his other hand to pat them, telling her silently he liked her claiming him like that. “Promise.”
“Well, mine’s a promise too.” He wiped the smile from his face as he steered her through the clusters of men and women towards where he could see Twisted’s back. His president had placed himself in the most vulnerable spot in the circle of men where he stood, as always, taking on the uncomfortable-feeling position to give his brothers pride in his trust in them, believing they’d protect him at all costs.
Someone must have said something, because Twisted glanced over his shoulder, then slowly spun in place as he put his palms together forcefully, leading the entire room in a round of enthusiastic, if also sarcastic, applause.
“Well done, brother. Was quite a fuckin’ show, and we didn’t even get to see a damn square of flesh. Well fuckin’ done, man.” Twisted reached out, and Wildman gave Justine a squeeze to tell her to stay right next to him, then met Twisted’s palm with his own, letting himself be pulled in for a one-armed clinch. “Out-fucking-standing, brother.”
“Fuck you.” He pulled back and reclaimed Justine’s shoulders, tracing along the edge of her sleeve with his thumb. He kept up the caress, grazing her skin in a back-and-forth movement meant to reassure. Always on my mind, baby. “And the horse you rode in on.”
Pony grinned at him from across the circle, and Wildman realized he’d parked himself and Justine next to Twisted, taking up space with their backs to the room. Measure of trust. He scanned the other faces, noting the three not smiling, as he nodded in equal greeting to the rest of his brothers. Only then did he bring his gaze back to meet Mason’s.
To give the man credit, he adhered to protocol and didn’t so much as glance at Justine, who was close to Wildman’s side as she could be. Wild pulled her in front of him, then arranged her at his other side, so he wouldn’t have to move away from her again, and she snuggled in tight against him. Her tiny sigh of contentment had his lips curling up, and he knew Mason didn’t miss the expression.
Twisted elbowed Wildman, chuckled, then began the introductions, both needed and unneeded. “Wild, you’ve met Mason.” Wildman inclined his head, receiving a brusque chin lift in response. “Gunny’s parked next to him, and on the other side is Hoss, both from Fort Wayne.”
Wildman reached out, giving Gunny’s hand a double-pump as he said, “Seen you around, here and there. Well met.” Gunny was silent, his side-eye of Mason saying enough for two conversations. “Hoss, I know your brother well. Retro’s a helluva man, and I’ve only heard good things about you. No surprise that. Welcome to our house, man.”
“Good meetin’ you, Wildman. I’ve heard things too.”
Wildman squeezed Justine’s shoulders when he heard her soft giggle, and he grinned broadly. “I just bet you have, Hoss.” Turning back to Mason, he leaned in a little. “We should probably have a private conversation soon.” His hesitation was momentary, but he wanted to make a statement with his words. “Brother.” Mason nodded. “Anyone important to Jussie is gonna be high on my list of folks to get to know, because this is stickin’.”
“Is it now?” Mason looked down at Justine, features wreathed in a smile that was soft and heartfelt. “You’re lookin’ good, Justine.”
“I am good, Davy.” She tipped her head so her temple rested against Wildman’s bicep, and a coal of warmth bloomed in his chest at the possessive gesture, clearly designed to telegraph her feelings. “I didn’t get a chance to thank you for everything.” Glancing up at Wildman, she leaned forwards, and he released his grip on her shoulder, watching as she moved towards her brother to be enveloped in his arms. Mason cradled her to his chest as if she were the most precious thing in the room, and Wildman liked what that said about the man, about the relationship these two complicated people had carved out for themselves. “Not just riding all over while you were looking for me, but your words of wisdom.”
“Older brothers are supposed to have a bit of that, sweetheart. I’m just glad it all turned out okay.” The rumbled words were intended for an audience of one, but Wild was highly focused on this reunion, determined to ensure it went well for Justine’s sake.
Looked like he had nothing to worry about. Mason’s eyes had dropped closed, and he appeared to be drinking in the affection Justine had for him. Wildman remembered hearing through the grapevine a few years back how Mason had found unexpected family in a couple of places. Justine must have been one of those he’d grown up not knowing about. More of his father’s fuckery, Wildman thought.
The instant Justine pulled away, Wildman’s hands were on her hips, guiding her back in front of him. He folded his arms across her chest, head next to hers as he pressed a kiss to the soft skin just behind her ear. “You good, Jussie?” Hair tangled with his, she nodded, and he gave her lobe a tiny nip. “We’ll only stay as long as you want. Gimme a sign and we’ll head home.” He didn’t miss the way she melted into him when he said that word. Home was something that clearly held importance to her, and he locked the info away to dig into at some point in the future. “You know Hoss and Gunny?” She nodded again, cheeks creasing into a smile. “It’s all good here, baby. This is a family night.”
“Was a family night,” Twisted butted in, humor thick in his voice. “Kids are all gone. Just us grown-ups here now.”
“Yeah, we’re acquainted.” Justine leaned against his chest as Wildman straightened. “Hi, boys.” She gave a little wave, arms restricted by his hold. “I’d hug you, but this man seems to be determined to tie me up tonight.” Wildman’s shoulders started shaking, and he chuckled in her ear. “So to speak.”
“I’ll tie you up, woman. Just give me the green and we’ll have a playdate like you won’t believe.” Wildman pressed a kiss to the side of her head. “Behave, Jussie.”
“Yes, Sir,” she retorted back, sassy as all hell.
“Before y’all start another noisy session here on the main floor, may I have your attention?” Wildman glanced at Twisted, who was no longer smiling. “I’ll give you tonight, but we’ll have business to discuss tomorrow. So don’t get a wild hair up your ass and go for a run. Need you here well before lunch, say ten or so. You can bring your woman, but she’ll cool her heels in a chair out here. I’d honestly recommend leavin’ her home.” Twisted tipped his head at Justine, who returned the gesture. “No offense meant.”
“Like you meant no offense having me show up here tonight, when I’d specifically asked for an opportunity to talk to Wildman in private?” Justine delivered the words quietly, carelessly even, no tensing of her muscles to say she understood she was poking a very dangerous bear. “No worries, Twisted. I’m kinda hard to offend.”
“Worked out for ya, didn’t it?” Twisted shrugged easily, his smirk never entirely fading. “Big bad Fed caught herself an outlaw. Sounds like the setup for a bad TV drama. How the fuck is this supposed to work in real life, huh?”
Justine’s rib cage expanded under Wildman’s hold, and he tipped his head to look at the side of her face, surprised to find a brilliant smile there. “That’s something I have a few ideas about, none of which my bosses are going to like.” She turned her face to his, and he captured her lips in a soft, slow kiss, ending with a tiny smack. “Conversation number two after we get home.”
Resolute, certain, secure, and fearless—and he loved the look on her.
***
Justine
She’d had people at her back before. Formidable people. People she trusted, who believed in her, showing it in word and deed. She’d made promises, knowing she could carry through on them in her own right, having confidence in her abilities to negotiate, fight, or cooperate with whoever she needed to.
She’d never felt as powerful as she did with Wildman’s arms wrapped around her. Protected by his public claim, visible on her throat in the form of purple bruises, and with his possession of her implied and apparent in his physical hold on her. Most important was the way his belief in her saturated every word sent her direction. She could do anything with him at her side.
She’d caught Hoss’ gaze on her throat while he was introduced to Wildman, and from the tiny quirk of his lips, thought he might approve. Then, Davy’s words during their embrace had very deliberately avoided any introduction of her relationship with Wildman, or even her presence in this clubhouse at his side. Her brother had chosen to focus on their hard-won sibling closeness, circling her safety with his promises of supporting her.
Facing down Twisted, however, might have been an ill-considered gauntlet. The silence surrounding them grew until her words to Wildman sounded louder than they should have, and she closed her eyes as she turned her head away from Twisted, cheek pressed to Wildman’s chest.
“Actually,” came a new voice to the circle, and she angled her gaze to see Wrench had approached from the side, “the little lady’s take from the Fed side of things might be pivotal to have in the mornin’. If she’ll share her wisdom.” He patted the air as if anticipating an argument. “Not sayin’ you’ve got to compromise anything you’ve oathed on. Just mentionin’ we’ve got knowledge of shit you don’t, and if you want a voice in shit, now’s the time to step up and toe the fuckin’ mark.”
Wildman’s sigh gusted out over her head, his breath stirring her hair as he sucked in another hard one. “One fuckin’ day. Is that too much to goddamned ask around here? I’d planned on ditchin’ for a couple of weeks, but forget that shit, you tellin’ me you can’t do without me for one goddamned day? I’ve got to be back in here in the mornin’, and you know I’ve got shit I want to do at home, but it don’t fuckin’ matter?”
The shaking of his chest transferred through to her, and it was uniquely satisfying to know they were pressed so close, he couldn’t laugh silently without her knowing.
“My Jussie wants to ride in with me in the mornin’, wants to bring her unique perspective to what-the-fuck-ever you want to talk about, I’ll take a seat beside her at that goddamned table, you can bet your fuckin’ boots. First time for everythin’, right, Twisted?” He huffed, no longer able to hide his laughter, and the shaking grew in intensity. “Oh, wait, that was your own Shiny Penny, back when you were all tied up.” The men around the circle were smiling or chuckling—even Davy—and Justine understood whatever the story was, it wasn’t complimentary to Twisted. “Rode the column, too, didn’t she? Jussie’ll be with me, her sweet, sweet ass and legs wrapped tight around me, there and back, and no matter what happens.” He leaned forwards, the action taking her with him as he looked around the faces of the men nearby. “And not a motherfucker in this room better say one thing sideways to my ole lady. If we’re not fuckin’ clear, then let me know. I got five fingers that’ll send a body to paradise if they wanna start shit.” He straightened, and she echoed his posture, his hands tightening on her ribs. “Mine.”
“Shit, man, you gonna piss on her next to make your fuckin’ point?” The voice was recognizable, and she turned to see Pony stalking up on Wildman’s other side. “Jesus, man, we fuckin’ get it. She’s yours. End of story.” He shook his head, smiling and laughing. “Fuck.”
“Oh, fuck you.” Wildman released her, reaching out to clasp Pony’s hand. He tugged, and Pony bumped against his shoulder, then they both released. “You hear what they’re askin’?”
“I did. I caught wind of the shit earlier. Honestly surprised to still see your skanky ass here, Wild. Figured you’d have taken the lady home already.” Pony dipped his chin at her. “Justine, glad to see you in one piece.” He’d been very helpful with the rescued women during the original rescue, and she gave him a friendly nod in response. “Wrench, who’s the guy movin’ into your old apartment?”
“Tale for another night, brother.” Wrench grinned as he shook his head. “Always got your nose in somebody else’s business, man.”
“It’s how I find out the best stank.” Pony pointed at Mason, then Gunny and Hoss. “Y’all dry yet? Got a prospect primed for my yodel, you need another drink.”
All three men demurred, and Justine noted the high levels in their beer bottles. Staying sober, but why?
Pony continued with a quiet, “Just let me know,” and she suspected the intent of the entire exercise had been to bring it to their attention how their behaviors had been noticed and noted by the hosting club.
Politics, everywhere I go.
Wildman bent, and with his mouth at her ear, breathed, “Baby, gotta keep your ass still, you don’t want to put on a show here.”
She twisted and glared up at him. “What?”
“You, dancin’ to the music, Jussie. Rubbin’ that aforementioned sweet, sweet ass right over my dick. I don’t like ridin’ with a hard-on, which means we’ll have to go back upstairs if you don’t stop it now. I wanna take you home and fuck you there, in my personal bed.” One hand dropped, and the sting of a hard swat registered before she heard the impact of his hand against her ass. “So be fuckin’ still, woman.”
Her breath had caught in her throat, and she didn’t fight the feeling sweeping over her as she angled her chin down, lowering her shoulders as she widened her stance. Service, ownership, rightness—it was all mixed up in her mind, but her heart was singing one word. His. Her arms might be trapped by his hold, so she couldn’t assume the pose properly, but she cupped her fingers around his wrists with a squeeze. “Yes, Sir.” Her murmured words couldn’t have traveled far, but she knew Wildman had caught them when his cock stiffened more and he thrust against her ass.
“Minx.” Cheek stroking against hers, he gave her affirmation she’d gotten it right. She’d gotten everything right. “That’s my good girl, Jussie.”
Boots stepped into view, and a hand curled around her chin, lifting her gaze to meet one as grey as her own. Mason studied her for the space of two breaths, then nodded. He still questioned, and she understood the need to put a line under it, given how she’d come to be here. “You want this, Justine?”
She looked deep into his eyes, trying to project the positive from all the confusing emotions swirling through her as she nodded slowly, a deliberate down and up and back to center, his hand never losing contact with her skin. “More than anything.”
Mason stepped back between his two men and flicked his gaze up, over her shoulder, nailing Wildman with a hard look. “She’s my blood.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Pain and suffering if anything happens to her. Chance of maiming up to and including death. We get it. It’s a family thang.” Twisted’s voice was light but carried a thread of anger. “Woman is here of her own volition, man. She’s choosing this, every moment she stands right fuckin’ there. So you go ahead and do your yada, yada, yada, get it outta your system now, so my man can take his woman home.” She didn’t miss the extension of his ownership to her through Wildman, and knew Mason caught it when his features tightened. “Go ahead.” In the periphery of her vision, Twisted’s hand flapped in a circle. “Yada, yada, yada yourself to where you needa be.”
“No, man.” Wildman’s voice had dropped to a low rumble, one that rattled through her whole body. “That’s Jussie’s blood standin’ there, askin’ if I’m gonna do the right thing by her. I get it. If I had a sister, I wouldn’t want her with an outlaw like me.” The grating chuckle should have shaken the rafters, it was so powerful. “But me bein’ who I am, I like this woman the way she is. Ain’t gonna try and change her. Why would I when I’ve already found we’re compatible in so many fuckin’ ways.” Another chuckle, this lighter, as she silently took in the meaning of his words. “Take that how you want it, but the reality is she’s hooked me, and I’m the one left tryin’ to reel her in. You can bet your ass I’ll work hard to land her, catch her, and tie her tight to me. Part of that is respect to her family, and this is me givin’ it.”
His hand lifted to her jaw, trailed a touch down her throat and body until he latched onto her hand and threaded their fingers together. She gave him a squeeze, hiding how her hands trembled.
“She’s your blood.” His thumb thrust upwards until her bare ring finger stood above the rest. The inference lodged a lump in her throat. “I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her. Happy to do anything from the least, to the most complicated. Her job’s not a problem, because me and Jussie are gonna deal with both sides. I’d like for her family to not be a problem too. And I guess that’s partly up to you, Mason.” He disappeared from Justine’s back, his arm draping over her shoulder, hands still joined. She leaned into him, giving him her weight as she tried to come to terms with everything he’d declared. “More’n halfway, you wanna meet me. This ain’t no game to me. Ain’t a scene, done and over in hours. This is—she’s something I’ve been lookin’ my whole fuckin’ life to find.” The idea that he valued her enough to worry about how Davy would take them being together shouldn’t have been surprising. Everything about this exchange fueled her joy, validating the strong feelings swooping through her chest. The core of this man was filled to the brim with good faith and loyalty. And love. Those attributes, along with so much else, were what had brought her here tonight. Wildman fairly vibrated next to her, the intensity of his voice carrying a ring of truth through it. “Patience by the bucketful. Won’t win her overnight. Spend the rest of my life makin’ my pitch, seein’ if she’ll have me.”
His arm squeezed her shoulders, and she rested against him, memorizing his every word.
“Fuck, brother, how in the hell are the rest of us supposed to give you any shit after you come through with a goddamned declaration like that.” Gunny’s sigh burst from him, and he swung his head side to side, looking down. “Boss, need to see about gettin’ goddamned Wildman on the payroll as a speechwriter. That’s some powerful shit.”
And with that, the heavy atmosphere was broken, grins around the circle of men, and as Justine glanced up at Wildman, she saw the broadest smile of them all.