Hurts like a bitch, but it was worth every single ache.
“Penelope, if I could, I’d roll us over and fuck you again.” Muttering the truth, I watch in amazement as she gets all bashful in an instant. My cock is still buried deep in her. There’s no room for embarrassment now.
I can’t believe this woman is mine.
Fuck. She’smine. And now, there’s not a single person in this world who will be able to take her from me.
14
Penelope
The bliss of the night before felt like a dream, but it’s a fragile one, incapable of smothering the ever-present stress of Judge’s goal to reclaim his hometown. The clubhouse has returned to its familiar, chaotic rhythm. On one side of the room, prospects are admiring their new patches, their voices loud with celebration. Nearby, Warden is healing, with Leah keeping him company in a quiet, sweet moment that feels separate from the noise.
I drift back to my favorite spot at the bar, content just to watch it all play out.
“Seriously, this is junk,” Hex scowls at Ghost’s laptop, looking like she wants to launch it across the room. “Though I have to admit, it’s impressive how far you’ve gotten on such poor equipment.” The insult and compliment, delivered in the same breath, earn her a scowl from Ghost.
While their bickering continues, my gaze shifts to the man with the wicked scar. He doesn’t flinch under Judge’s orders;instead, he questions every decision, challenging how things were run in Crimson Road. He still hasn’t given his name, still sore about Crimson Road’s downfall.
For a couple of days, these two ex-members have lingered among us, a tense yet mostly cooperative presence.
A taste of peace has returned, yet I see Raven can’t shake Jinx. He shadows her constantly, a persistent thorn in her eyes.
Judge and Ripper are always coming and going, managing the turbulent changes in town, and the whole world feels like one big, complicated mess.
In the midst of it, I find a little silver lining to the situation. Haven is suffering, too, waiting for the love of her life to return. Our shared loss draws us closer, and I’m realizing she’s becoming the best friend I never knew I needed. Even when Trouble joins us, the siblings seamlessly include me, their company a temporary balm for the emptiness that lingers just beneath my skin.
But then, night falls.
The real loneliness starts to creep in, a physical ache seeping into my bones. And just as it threatens to consume me, he always appears. Judge flies back to the clubhouse as if he felt it from miles away, not letting a single club member delay him. His presence is a tide that washes everything else away.
Once the dust settles, he’s promised to move me into his apartment. For now, we’ve made this borrowed room our own sanctuary. There’s a profound peace in falling asleep curled up alone, only to be gently pulled from dreams by the safe, solid weight of his arms curling around me in the dark.
I’m floating in that warm, weightless space between sleep and waking, the scent of Judge on the pillow the only thing that feels real, when a familiar creak from the hallway snags my consciousness. It’s the third board from the door, the onethat protests under the weight of his boot. A slow, secret smile touches my lips in the darkness.
He’s here.
I crack my eyes open to nothing but shapeless shadows, the clubhouse silent beyond our door. A little squirm works through me under the thick blanket, the soft, worn cotton of his shirt whispering against my skin. I’m swimming in the fabric, the collar slipping off one shoulder. I already know, with certainty, that he’s going to like what he discovers.
The door handle turns without a sound, a sliver of dim hallway light cutting across the floor before it’s swallowed again as he enters and closes the world out. His shape is a massive, moving darkness, more felt than seen.
The rustle of his cut is the first sound, placed with a soft thud against the ground. Then the heavier sound of his boots, one after the other, dropped carelessly. The quiet rip of his belt through the loops, the soft thump of his jeans following.
I can’t help but hold my breath and squirm. I love it when he tries to stay quiet, all to keep me from waking. Such care from a brute is addicting.
The mattress dips profoundly under his weight, a sigh of springs I’ve come to associate with home. His body radiates a heat that cuts through the cool room air, and I can’t suppress a slight shiver as he settles. His hand finds my hip first, a large, possessive palm squeeze to make me aware of his presence. A slow, exploring stroke up my side stills as his fingers encounter not the thin strap of a nightgown or the bare skin he might have expected, but the distinct, thick ribbing of a crewneck t-shirt. His shirt.
His hand stills completely. I feel him shift, his head bending closer in the blackness, and then his breath hitches as he breathes me in. The scent of his soap on my skin, his laundry detergent on the cotton, and underneath it all, just… me.
A low, rough groan rumbles from his chest, a sound of pure satisfaction. When I giggle, he doesn’t hold back from breathing me in deeply.
“Pen,” he murmurs, his voice gravelly with exhaustion. His nose brushes the sensitive skin beneath my ear, and his arms band around me, pulling me flush against the solid wall of his chest. I melt into the hold, every tense muscle finally going liquid. “Tomorrow,” he promises into my hair, the word a vow. “I’m yours. No runs. No trips out of town. I’m taking the day off.”
The words are a gift I hadn’t dared to hope for. A whole day. So much time with him, without the club as a looming shadow. Excitement bubbles up, a fizzy, effervescent feeling that makes it impossible to lie still. I wiggle in his grasp, turning in his arms until I can press my face into the strong column of his throat, breathing in the familiar scent of leather, night air, and him.
“Yeah?” I whisper against his skin, my heart hammering. I tilt my head back, trying to see his face in the gloom. “Can we… go out then? Just… you and me?” I take a small, nervous breath. “Maybe have a… first date… kind of thing?”
My crush has carried along so many first date fantasies.
