Page 28 of Room One Hundred and Four: Shock and Awe

My mind drifts to the other night when we spent the night together in Spark’s suite. It’s large enough for the four of us to live there, but I don’t know if she would be okay with living in the clubhouse. From what I heard, her place is pretty nice and it’s on a relatively quiet street in a nice neighborhood.

Would she leave it for us?

I can’t imagine Spark moving out of the clubhouse. He’s the Prez after all. I wish our clubhouse was situated like the New Orleans chapter because then we would have the room to build our own place within the compound. We’re just not set-up the same way.

But that’s the future while the ringing of Navy’s moans from the other night are pulling me into memories.

This time, she didn’t swallow my load, even though that felt really fucking good when we spent the night with her at Club Sin. I got to be buried in her tight, wet, pussy just like I promised her I would be.

Fuck, the way she rode me, her hips swirling and moving as I gripped them was like magic. I’ve never felt anything better.

I sucked on her tits as Rites and Spark watched. I was a little surprised when Spark didn’t protest us following him up to his place. I chalked it up to progress and the understanding that we were all in or none of us were.

It’s clear to me, and I guess he’s coming around to the idea, that Navy needs the three of us. Together. As a unit.

That doesn’t mean there won’t be times when we can be with her alone. There will be and I know I’m sure as fuck looking forward to those times.

She’s like a damn drug and I need my next fix.

The banging of the gavel on the table startles me out of my thoughts and my gaze swings up to find the room filled with my brothers and Spark staring at me with understanding in his eyes. I almost laugh at the look on his face because it’s clear where he wants to be and it sure as fuck isn’t Church.

Rites leans over and teases me, “Thinking about our woman?”

I only grunt in response because he knows I was. The shit.

Spark’s voice is gruff, but I can hear his desire to be with our women laced within his tone, “We have a lot to cover today.” The room quiets as he glances around the table. “I had a meeting with Wolfe, Dominic, and Hendrix a few days ago,” he informs us. “They’ll be staying in Seattle for a little while. I’m not sure how long.”

Demon, who is an enforcer along with Monk and me, grunts, “Is there a trafficking issue that they’re here to take down?”

Monk sits up a little straighter in his chair. The man might have found his old lady, but he’s still a man of few words. The biggest change I’ve seen in him since he met Rebel is that his eyes aren’t as shadowed with the ghosts of the past. They’re not gone, but any improvement makes me happy for our brother.

It’s been months since we heard anything certain about Morozov’s people making waves in the city. I knew it wouldn’t last and we’re all ready for some action whenever it comes our way. The thought of his people still being around and causing havoc in our city makes my blood boil.

That shit won’t fly at all. My fist clenches on my lap at the thought of women being traumatized by people who should be in the ground instead of breathing.

“No,” Spark’s voice is harsh as he shoots Demon a side-eye. He’s not the kind of man who likes to be interrupted. It’s understandable. “Since they’ve heard more chatter about people loyal to Morozov’s organization trying to gain a foothold in Seattle, they’re here as backup to Volkov and his inner circle.”

Demon slumps back in the chair and nods absently. I almost laugh since it’s clear the man is itching to see some violence, but it seems today is not the day for it.

I have no doubt the time will come. Eventually.

“They’ll be working with Savior Security when needed since we’ve been providing security for Volkov and his men.” We nod in understanding.

Now there are some men that I would not want to cross. They’re fucking ruthless. You couldn’t be anything less to take down a bratva that had spent years operating for as long as Morozov had been. Kirill and his brother Maxim are dangerous as hell.

Even as an enforcer for the DSMC, I wouldn’t want to go up against either of them, especially Kirill who stands at the head of the Volkov bratva. Then Huck and Baker comprise the rest of the inner circle of the organization.

Sure, they’re all fair men in the strictest sense, but that doesn’t mean they won’t shed blood to protect themselves, their family, and innocents.

That’s the entire reason that we’ve gotten along so well with the men. Their values are very similar to that of the DSMC. I almost hope none of them find a woman; if anyone threatened their women it would be a damn bloodbath.

I shiver in my chair thinking about the blood that could be spilled on the streets of Seattle. If Morozov’s men were smart, along with whoever is trying to lead the comeback, they would turn tail and find somewhere else to try and regrow their empire.

But I know its greed driving them instead of intelligence or even self-preservation.

“We’ll keep you updated with anything you need to know but keep your ears to the ground. I wouldn’t be surprised if shit is going to hit the fan soon with the mercs in town.” Spark’s eyes roam over the room as he pauses, clearly giving us a moment to speak if we need to. When no one says anything, he gives a curt nod and takes a deep breath. “We’ll be voting on Aston becoming a patched member soon which means it’s time to start thinking about a road name for him.”

“Pissant,” Nero blurts out, amusement in his voice.

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