Page 72 of Foxx
“We’re gonna have some fun tonight,” Trina says, offering me a hug too. “These men know how to party.”
I smile at them, unsure what to expect, but when they leave the clubhouse, Roz drops into the seat beside me.
“Nervous?” she asks. “Big debut as Aiden’s woman.”
“Aiden’s woman?”
She starts to laugh. “Don’t worry. We’ll have fun, and I’m always sober if you need anything.”
“You do this every year?”
“Since Aiden took over, yes. This is only our third one. Oh, that reminds me.” She unzips her bag and reaches in, pulling out a soft black leather jacket and holding it up to me. “Just as I thought.” She grins.
“I used to rideandbe your size.” She winks. “And if I’m right, this will be a perfect fit.”
I take it from her and hold it up. It’s obviously a pricey piece of leather.
“Well, don’t just stand there, try it on,” she urges me. “You’ll need it for this ride.”
I stand and shrug it on over my black tank and cut-off denim shorts. It’s absolutely perfect, as if it were made for mybody. I’m just pulling my hair out from the collar and fluffing it around my shoulders when Roz picks up her bag.
“It’s perfect. So it’s yours.”
“I can’t keep this,” I say, awestruck. “It’s too pretty, and it feels expensive.”
Roz reaches out, and her hand with its hot-pink-painted fingernails rests on my leather-clad arm.
“It was, and yes, you can. It doesn’t fit me anymore. It’s a shame to waste it.”
“Thank you, Roz.”
“Don’t thank me.” She grins. “You can’t ride with the club at the president’s back without leather.”
She’s just turning to leave as I feel two heavy arms wrap around me from behind, and lips on my neck.
“Fuck, woman,” Aiden growls into my ear before a group of men comes into the clubhouse behind him. Dagger is one of them. He watches me, looking me over from head to toe. A sickening feeling sinks through me. I look away and focus on Aiden nuzzling my neck, ignoring the way Dagger’s eyes stalk me.
“It’s time to fucking go, or the whole damn ride is gonna wait while I fuck you.”
I reach my hand up and press it to Aiden’s jaw, spinning in his arms to face him. Goddamn, he looks incredible. He wears black jeans, his standard boots, a black T-shirt, and his cut. His SEAL dog tags hang down over his shirt, and the black bandanna around his neck will cover his face as we ride. I glance down to his ridiculously thick bicep to see a slip of black fabric tied around it that says:In memoriam—Disciple Gregor Foxx—2016.
“Can wepleasejust take a few minutes and go to your office?” I ask, not caring if I sound desperate.
Aiden laughs a real, full, deep laugh and moves his lips over my neck to my ear.
“From virgin to my own personal little cumslut?” His voice is low, and a whimper escapes my lips.
“Christ, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he mutters, still chuckling, spinning me and smacking my ass. It echoes through the clubhouse as I yelp. “You’ll get what’s coming to you, goddess, but this is a working ride. I have people here from other clubs, and we don’t make them wait,” he orders, directing me to the very front of the row of waiting bikes so I can take my place behind him. All the while, I pretend not to feel the evil, watchful eyes of Dagger on me, a few bikes back.
“Don’t look at him,” Aiden whispers, sensing my anxiety. “I’m watching him for you. The best place for me to keep an eye on him is when he’s within arm’s reach.”
I nod in understanding as we head out.
It’s not until I glance up as I pass by and meet Dagger’s gaze by mistake that I notice the look he’s wearing. A bloodthirsty scowl, like Aiden has just stolen his favorite toy and he’s plotting how to steal it back.
* * *
The Georgia sun feels like fire on my back as we ride through the countryside to Jekyll Island. Aiden said more bikes would be joining us, and that by the time we reach the farm, there will be over two hundred riders. I cling tight to his waist, my head on his wide back as the thrum of his powerful bike vibrates between my thighs. There’s something so insanely intimate about riding with him. I don’t know whether it’s the vibration of the bike itself, or how strong he has to be to handle a beast of abike like this. It could be the feel of my body pressed up against his, or the simple fact that all these men behind us look to him for command. Hell, maybe it’s a combination of all of it, but for the first time, I understand the desire of women like Libby and Trina to be where I am now.
