Kristen Ashley - Own the Wind

I smiled again. “That’ll be cool too.”

“It’s a plan,” he muttered.

Yeah, it was.

I pressed closer, took in a deep breath, then said what I had to say to get it out of the way, “You don’t wanna talk about it, we won’t. I’m just going to say, I’m gonna have a chat with Dad—”

He closed his arms tight around me and cut me off by saying, “Tabby, baby, look at me.”

I lifted my head to look at him and I saw his eyes serious on me.

“He’s gotta decide, as my brother, if he trusts me. Not you gettin’ in his face and puttin’ pressure on, not you takin’ time to explain it rationally. I made the decision I wanted to join. I approached them. When I did, I put myself out there so, before they took me on, they knew everything about me. I did my time as a recruit. I do my part at the shop and in the garage. I take my orders when they come and I have never questioned them. When I get the call, I take a brother’s back and I never question that either. I have not given them one reason to question me. I get where your father is at. I also know he’s gotta get his shit together, think this through as a brother as well as a father and make the right decision. What I said at the Compound today is the God’s-honest truth. I didn’t become a member of the Club to have anyone tellin’ me how to live my life. So that’s a brother thing, Tab, and, it sucks if you don’t like it but that’s how it’s gotta be.”

I lived the life all my life, I knew enough to know this was true, so I nodded.

Shy kept going. “More, he’s gotta come to terms with the fact that his only girl is all grown up and he’s gotta give her the freedom to live her own life. What he’s doin’ to me is uncool. I get him bein’ angry. He thought we were hidin’ for the wrong reasons. But what he’s doin’ to you is more uncool. What he needs to get is that there are now parts of your life that are none of his business. I am not a father. I don’t know how it feels to let go of a child in that way, especially your only girl. What I do know is, I acted on assumptions about shit about you years after it happened, it was wrong and… justified… I lost you. Now, he’s doin’ the same thing seven fuckin’ years after it happened, and he’s gotta clue in you’re not that girl pullin’ shit because things with your mom are extreme. You’re an adult making decisions about your future, and you get to decide when you’ll share.”

That was the damned truth.

“You’re right,” I agreed.

“Yeah,” he replied quietly.

“Okay, I’ll let it be,” I gave in, and his lips curved as his eyes got soft and his arms gave me a squeeze.

“Thanks, baby.”

I smiled at him. Then I tipped my head to the side and asked, “What was that with Hop at the Compound?”

His eyes held mine, he waited a beat, then he shared, “Hop is nailin’ Lanie.”

I blinked.

Lanie was Tyra’s best friend. Lanie was the one who lost her fiancé when all that crazy stuff went down that eventually got Tyra kidnapped and stabbed. Lanie had moved to Connecticut to lick her wounds after Elliott, her fiancé, got whacked and Lanie got shot. She did that until Tyra flew out there, gave her some honesty, and then Lanie moved back.

Lanie was tall, slender, and model gorgeous. She also made a lot of money, she ran her own advertising agency, was pure class, and could be (frequently) pure drama.

What she was not, in any way, was Hop’s type.

“You’re kidding me,” I breathed.

“Nope. They’re hidin’ it too. Don’t know why, but I do know neither Tack nor Cherry know shit.” He grinned. “Not the same as bangin’ one of the brother’s daughters, but figure they’re hidin’ it for a reason. Also, whatever they got is not runnin’ smooth. I heard them goin’ at it in his room at the Compound. Was in the hall when I saw her strut out, pissed as all fuck, Hop tearin’ out after her, not looking any happier. He saw me so he knows I know. We had a chat, he told me to keep it under wraps, I have not said shit.”

“I… I don’t know what to do with that,” I told him. “Has Lanie been with anyone since that Elliott guy?”

Shy smiled and replied, “I’m not one of her bitches, so I have no clue. I just know he’s had her in his bed a while.”

“Oh God,” I whispered, “Ty-Ty might freak.”

“Don’t know why, he’s a good guy,” Shy remarked.

Hop was a good guy. I loved him. Everyone did. But he also had an ex, Mitzi, and when she became his ex, it got ugly. I was not one of his brothers, so I didn’t know why but it got so ugly it was hard to miss.

“He’s a good brother,” I clarified. “What went down with Mitzi was messy. So messy, no one missed it and definitely not Tyra, seeing as she works there.”

“What went down with Mitzi was deserved by Mitzi. She was a pain in his ass,” Shy returned.

“Shy—” I started, my body tensing.

“Tabby,” he interrupted me. “You know, some shit with the boys, I’m not gonna share. Just know this, a woman doesn’t treat men like us like Mitzi treated Hop. They do, they’ll find themselves where Mitzi is now.”

I studied him, then asked, “Was it bad?”

“Bad enough for him to roam,” he confirmed, and I sucked in breath, shocked at this news.

Hop was a good brother. As I already mentioned, Hop was also a good guy. I liked him. He had his imperfections, everyone did. And it wasn’t unheard of that some of the men would do whatever they wanted with whoever they wanted even if they had an old lady at home.

But I did not think Hop was like that.

“Hop roamed?”

“BeeBee,” Shy grunted, and I sucked in another breath.

BeeBee had not been around for a good long while but the ghost of BeeBee remained, such was the power of BeeBee. I had been a whole lot younger when she used to hang at Chaos, but I’d seen her around and I knew she was a biker groupie.

Her mission, as jacked as it seemed, was to collect every member of the Club, become a notch on their bedposts, the more notches the better.

The old ladies detested her. It wasn’t like Chaos didn’t have biker groupies, but they knew their place and they knew the place an old lady held and never the twain shall meet. That said, I’d been to enough hog roasts to see BeeBee communicating with her eyes, and sometimes with her mouth, she’d had a woman’s man. My guess was, since BeeBee’s tenure was long, the old ladies sucked it up and this never got back to their men. Unfortunately, this could be the way with motorcycle clubs, and old ladies learned when to keep their mouths shut.

That was until BeeBee went head-to-head with Ty-Ty. It kinda grossed me out to know my dad went there (though, admittedly, she was gorgeous with a fabulous body, just skanky) and from the argument I overheard Tyra having with Dad, he and BeeBee had been together before Tyra’s time, but still.

Dad found out BeeBee even looked at Tyra, much less spoke words to her (which she did), sent Dad over the edge.

Exit BeeBee.

Forever.

She was also the example Shy threw in my face way back, that night he was a dick to me. None of that night was pleasant, though it was over and I wasn’t going back there. However, I remembered quite clearly that him even suggesting I was going the way of BeeBee was a hurt that dug deep.

On the exhale, I breathed out, “Oh my God.”

“Yeah. Even I think that play was fucked, but when it happened Hop and Mitzi were on a break, a bad one, the break they had just before all hell broke loose and Hop ended it with Mitzi for good. Enter BeeBee, who could sniff that shit out like nobody. Why Hop took Mitzi back, don’t know. Just know he didn’t take her back for long before it was really over.”

“I’m not sure any of this is good,” I told him.

“I’m not either,” he agreed, then his eyes grew intense on me. “What I am sure of, it’s nobody’s fuckin’ business.”

That, I knew, was very, very true.

His arms gave me a squeeze and his voice went soft when he reminded me, “You got work tomorrow, and we both don’t know what the day will bring. We should get some shut-eye.”

“Yeah,” I whispered then dropped my head to touch my mouth to his.

When I lifted it, he rolled me to his side and reached an arm across me to turn out the light. He settled in and tucked me close.

I snuggled closer.

I was about to enter dreamland when it hit me.

And although near sleep, what hit me, Shy had to know.

“You did it,” I said, my voice quiet and drowsy.

“Did what, sugar?”

“Today, at the Compound, what you said, you did it.”

“What, baby?”

“I dreamed a dream.”

His arms spasmed.

I drifted to sleep, muttering, “You promised to get me to a dream, you got me to a dream. Thank you, honey.”

Then I fell asleep.

* * *

Shy

Shy Cage did not sleep.

He held his slumbering girl in his arms and he struggled with the urge to howl at the moon.

It took a while to control that urge.

Then, no matter the shit that went down that day, Shy fell asleep smiling.

Make Her Happy

Shy’s mouth worked between my legs, my back left the bed, my heels dug into his lats, I ground my hips into his face, and I came hard.

Still coming, I found myself on my stomach, my hips were jerked up, and Shy’s cock drove inside me.

“Again, Tabby, hand between your legs,” he growled, his hands at my hips, yanking me back as he thrust forward and took me.

I was still coming but I managed to get my hand between my legs. I moaned into the pillows at my touch and his strokes.

Oh God, this was brilliant.

“Push up, baby, want your tits,” he ordered.

I pushed up, he kept driving deep even as his mouth hit my neck and his hands covered my breasts. Then his fingers did things to my nipples that made me gasp and my entire body jerk.

“Wait for me,” he grunted.

“Shy, no way,” I panted.

He drove up and ground in, rumbling against my neck as his fingers twisted my nipples, “Wait. For. Me.”

“Oh God,” I moaned, grinding down. “Hurry.”

He started thrusting.

Oh God.

“Are you close?” I breathed.

“Gettin’ there,” he muttered.

He kept thrusting, his fingers working my breasts.

“Honey, are you close?” I begged.

“Fuck,” he groaned into my neck. “Give it to me, Tabby.”

Thank God.

I let go and gave it to him, my head flying back, slamming into his shoulder as his mouth closed over the skin of my neck and I felt him sucking deep.

That would leave a mark.

I came down and I felt his breath against my skin as he did too.

Then I lifted my hands to his that were now just holding me, curled around my breasts.

“That was awesome,” I breathed.

“It’s always awesome,” he murmured.

He was right, and I was glad to know he felt the same way.

My hands moved with his hands as one of them slid up to wrap around my chest and the other one slid down to cup me between my legs where he was still buried deep.

“Love you, Shy Cage,” I whispered.

“Love you too, baby,” he whispered back.

After the day before, I didn’t know what that day was going to bring.

I just knew however it carried on, it started great.

* * *

Shy and I were shuffling around in the kitchen, me in my scrubs, Shy in his jeans. We were sipping coffee, sucking back bowls of cereal, chatting, touching, kissing, our usual routine, when my phone rang.

I’d turned my cell off and the ringer to my house phone the night before. Shy needed my concentration so I gave it to hm.

I’d turned my phone on that morning and found I had seventeen missed calls and nearly as many voice-mail messages. Five were from Tyra, three from Dad, two from Rush, one from Big Petey, and the rest were from various brothers or their old ladies. All of them were asking me to call them.

I knew the day was going to go downhill from there.

Luckily, it started at a way-high point. The problem with that, the higher you are, the farther there is to fall.

I looked at my phone at the counter, saw the screen said, “Tyra Calling” and heard Shy say, “Pick it up, babe.”

I looked to Shy to see he had his eyes to the phone.

“I don’t know if I’m ready.”

His eyes came to me. “She wasn’t ready for you to lay into her yesterday either. You took your time to talk, give her hers.”