A Family Affair: An Extreme Taboo Anthology
I may do some crazy, dangerous shit for the club, but with her, I feel like a damn teenager in love. Everything about us, about how I feel about her is pure, real. I did love her mother, with every fiber of my being, and perhaps I still do. But with Rylee, she’s more than just a beautiful blonde who I want riding my cock until I die, she’s my partner, my equal.
“People may say this is wrong, fuckin’ society says it’s wrong,” I tell her, nearing her as I speak. “But this thing between us, it feels more than right.”
“It does,” she agrees. But her tone doesn’t match her smile. Something else is bothering my princess. She does love me, the way I love her, and I need to make her see she’s mine forever.
Cupping her face in my hands, I hold her steady, wanting to look into her eyes when I tell her this. “You’re never leaving my side, ever again.” The love in her gaze is nothing short of amazing. I’ve never once known something so basal, so animalistic. She brings out the animal that hides deep inside me, the need to protect what’s mine rears its head.
“Then take me to meet the guys, at the club. I need to see where the other half of your life is.” I never wanted her there, it’s not a place for someone so innocent, so pure. But I realize that if this is going to work, I’m going to have to be honest with her, and myself. And the men who trust me. “Please, Dad?”
“You know I can never say no to you,” I nod, pressing a kiss to her mouth. “And it’s time you start calling me Vincent,” I tell her with a smile.
“Vincent,” she utters my name, the sound foreign, but it does things to me, and I can’t help but steal her mouth once more. I close my eyes and feel the warmth of her seeping into me, into the depths of my chest where my heart was once cold and rigid.
As her tongue sweeps along mine, I find my forever.
I find the one thing I’d been searching for in other women.
“I’m taking you back to bed,” I grin, lifting her by her ass, and carrying her down the hallway to my bedroom where our messed-up sheets are waiting.
* * *
There are five bikes parked outside when I pull up into my spot. Killing the engine, I wait for Ry to swing her leg over, and I follow suit. Once I’ve pulled off my helmet, I place both hers and mine on the seat and lace my fingers through hers.
Stepping through the door of the clubhouse, which is just a double story building, the bar on the lower level with the meeting room at the rear, and
on the second floor are seven bedrooms, and two bathrooms. The place could be someone’s home, and it pretty much is.
Most of the members live upstairs, those who are single in any case. The place is brimming and it’s only eight in the morning.
“Hey! It’s Wilder.” One of the members and our road captain, Jonny, grips my shoulder, pulling me in for a one armed hug. He’s tall, freakishly so, and he’s the man who leads us when we’re on the road. As Captain, he always takes the front. For a long time he spent his days and nights in rehab. Coming from a broken home which he hates to talk about, he got addicted to the bad shit.
“What’s up, man?”
“Nothing, the guys are out,” he tells me. When his gaze lands on the beauty behind me, he offers a wink. “And who’s this pretty lady?”
“This is Rylee,” I tell him, not wanting to tell him her last name, I step aside as he pulls her into a hug and presses a chaste kiss on the top of her head. She’s tiny compared to the giant, and I can’t help but chuckle when her wide eyes meet mine.
Once she’s released from his hold, she gifts him a friendly smile.
“Is Jackal here?” I ask, looking at Jonny, or as we like to call him, Scar.
He nods, “He’s in the back.”
I lock my fingers with Rylee’s and tug her along with me as I make my way toward Jackal’s office. “Thanks, man, I’ll see you later.”
We walk silently to the dark oak door that beckons, and I knock twice, and wait. My heart is thudding wildly in my chest, beating a drum against my ribs. I wish this wasn’t seen as wrong in the eyes of society. Why do others decide what is right or wrong for you? Society has gotten a God complex. If we’re both consenting adults, then I don’t see how it can be wrong.
The door flies open, and we’re met with the older man. Jackal is in his fifties now, graying with pride as his beard and full head of hair is silver. Most of the club whores call him the Silver Jackal, their explanation was that this man is definitely a fox.
“Welcome,” he smirks, stepping aside and allowing us into his sanctuary. Papers are strewn along the ornate desk and the walls are covered in shelves of books. One would not envision something like this when stepping into the office of the President of Fallen Saints MC.
“I wanted to introduce you to Rylee,” I tell him as we settle on the sofas that sit opposite his desk. “She’s going to be living with me, and…” I turn to her, offering her a smile.
“You don’t have to explain shit to me,” he tells me, then turns his attention to Rylee. Jackal holds out his hand, and my beautiful girl takes it and shakes. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Rylee. Please, don’t ever feel scared to be here. Since Vincent is wanting you as his old lady, you’re considered family. You may not wear a cut, but you’re one of us now.”
“Thank you.” Rylee’s cheeks blossom with a pink hue and she looks more beautiful right now than she ever did before. “I’ve always wanted to meet you and see the club.” Her voice is soft, so feminine and sweet, all I want to do is take her and hold her in my arms.
“Then you’re welcome here any time.”