Christ, I need to get a grip and stop this. I could have gotten pregnant if I’d let that man fuck me. Gotten a disease, for God’s sake. I’m out of control, and the men here, and the heady, raunchy atmosphere of the clubhouse, all mess with my head.
I cover my face with my hands. Maybe Jack is right. Maybe I am a slut.
No, I hate that word. Men never get that label, and even if they do, it’s not the same. They’re branded as experienced, while the women they gain that experience with are supposed to carry the shame.
I don’t want to feel shame, to buy into that patriarchal bullshit, but I do.
Hating my dress and heels suddenly, I put my head down and hurry back to the house, wishing I’d never come to the clubhouse and never let that man touch me.
27
ACE
The morning lightfilters through a crack in the drapes, and I lie on my back in bed and stare up at the ceiling.
I’ve tossed and turned all night, my mind pinging between Camile and trying to focus on my role here, knowing it’s my job to come up with a safe route between us and the Iron Revenants MC’s compound. They’re bound to know we’re coming. Why else did they leave our two guys alive, if not knowing they’d return to us and tell us exactly what happened? They’ll be expecting a retaliation, which is exactly why we haven’t done that yet.
The question is, why? Why the fuck would the Iron Revenants want us to come down on their compound? They’re smaller than us—which is why they’ve never dared try to take over our compound before—and don’t have our firepower, so they must knowthey’re asking for trouble.
My mind drifts from the MCs and all that shit, which makes my head hurt…
God damn, Camile in that dress and those heels. The vision of her last night has burned itself onto my brain, and I can’t escape it.
The memory of the taste of her skin, the sounds she makes when she comes, how fucking wet and puffy her pussy is, how sensitive her clit… Shit, I can’t focus.
It fucking kills me that Jack’s got this hold over us. If we were in any other situation, I’d have thrown myself on my knees in front of her already and asked her to be my ol’ lady. Or maybe my girlfriend first, since she’d probably freak out if I went too over the top, however much I might want to.
Instead, she thinks that I’m happy to act like nothing happened between us, when the exact opposite is true. I want to make her mine and shout it from the rooftops. I want to have access to that luscious body every fucking minute of the day and make her feel so good she’d never want to leave.
It’s not just how hot she is, though. That pulls me in, but that she’s so lost. I never could resist a lost thing. I collect them, rescue them, pet them and make them all better, and I want to do that for her. I imagine her pretty face lighting up when she sees me as I return to the house we’d share here on the compound. Or having her ride out with me, looking so cute on the back of my bike.
But I also know she’s not a part of our world. Just by looking at her, that much is clear. She deserves so much better than a goddamned biker for her other half and living out her days as an ol’ lady. She deserves castles and princess gowns and white horses to ride through meadows. I can’t give her any of that… well, maybe the white horse, but only if I stole one and kept him in the barn.
I purse my lips, wondering if that might be a possibility. I wouldn’t get away with stealing one, but I could buy her one. Would Camile appreciate that? Would it make her love me?
Love? I shake the thought from my head. I obviously don’t love her; I don’t really know her. Love is dangerous, too. It’s not for the likes of me.
The only people I’ve ever loved in my life are people I’ve lost. I swore I’d never leave myself open to that kind of pain again. But with Camile, I can’t seem to help it. It’s like being around her has cracked my heart right open. I want to put it on a platter and hand it to her and tell her it’s hers, if she’ll take it. All of which is fucking absurd, but it’s the way I feel, and I can’t help that.
Jack, though, Jack is a problem, and it’s not one I’m going to be able to fix. He’s cock-blocking that girl like a trouper. He’s our Prez, and I respect him fully for that, but right now I fucking hate him a little, too.
I've seen the way she looks at him as well. Especially when she thinks nobody's watching. She eats that man up as if he's a slice of pie and she's starving. It makes something inside me burn bright and hot and angry.
It's a worry because I do have something of a temper issue. People who don't know me that well think I'm the funny, easygoing dude who’s just there to make them laugh. If only they knew the darkness inside me. I have been known to completely lose my mind every now and again, and when I do that, things tend to get broken.
With a sigh, I stretch and climb out of bed then head to the shower. Despite my lack of sleep, I feel better once I've scrubbed the night from my skin. I make more of aneffort than usual getting ready that morning. I pick out a pair of jeans that I know hug my butt just the way I want them to, and a t-shirt that cuts off at the right point on my biceps. I rake my hands through my hair with a bit of gel on my fingers, so the curls are more defined than fluff, then spritz on my best aftershave.
There’s a meeting in two hours to discuss what we're going to do about the Revenants. Jack's going to be pissed at me for not being able to find a route to get to their club without being spotted, at least not so far. As I'm already on his shit list, that doesn't bode well. The only way I can see for us to get anywhere near them, without them being alerted to the fact, is to go at least ninety minutes out of our way. We’d need to make a big circle right around the back of the club and approach from that direction. Even then, they're going to hear the rumble of our bikes, so the only other option is we park the bikes and make it on foot for the last fifteen minutes or so of the journey. Except that option limits how many weapons we can carry and leaves us a lot more vulnerable. We wouldn't be able to get away easily if everything went south if our bikes were a short hike away.
I aim for the canteen, but then I pause, and on a whim, turn and head to Reynolds’ house. It's one of the smallest places here, outside of the dorms, that is, and just has a kitchen, a small living room, and then a bath and a bedroom. I knock on his door. He answers a few beats later, looking disheveled and exhausted.
“Hey, Ace. Is everything okay?”
Christ, they did a number on him, and he mumbles as he speaks through swollen, split lips.
“Yeah, it's good. I won’t keep you. You look like ithurts to talk. I just wanted to ask you about what went on with the Revenants.”
He sighs, scrubs a hand over his face, and promptly winces. “I've already gone over it with Ghost, and Jack, too.”
