Page 35 of Claimed By The Club
She rolls her eyes with a playful huff. “What else is new? Knox practically shoved me out of the office to let me grab lunch, but then Marian cornered me about bar supply checks. I keep telling myself it’s good stress.”
A smirk tugs at my mouth. “It’s definitely better than bullet stress.”
She laughs, though the mention of bullets causes her smile to dim slightly. “Any update on the Reapers?”
I decide not to tell her about the leak yet. No need to freak her out until we have a solid lead. “Ghost says they’re quiet for now, but we’re keeping watch.”
She exhales, relief and lingering worry mixing in her eyes. Then her gaze shifts to me, something unspoken sparking there. “You doing okay? You look… tense.”
“Could say the same about you,” I counter gently. “Maybe we both need a breather.”
Her lips part, as if she’s about to respond. Instead, she nods slowly. “I wouldn’t mind some quiet time. I can’t stay long, though—Knox wants me to finalize a cost analysis for next week’s event.”
An idea flares. “I know a place no one will bother us. My old bunk in the back. Not the typical hot spot these days.”
A flicker of uncertainty shadows her face, but then curiosity wins out. “Sure,” she says, voice quiet.
I guide her through the corridors, passing a few curious looks from members who don’t question us. We end up near the rear of the clubhouse, where a row of mostly unused rooms line a narrow hallway. I lead her into mine—a small space with a single cot, a worn dresser, and a rickety table. The overhead light is off, but soft midday sun filters through a high, dusty window. It’s enough to give a dim glow.
She steps inside, glancing around with a hint of amusement. “So this is where the infamous Viper sleeps, huh?”
I shrug, locking the door behind us. “When I’m not on the road or sleeping on a couch. Figured it’s better than some dusty corner.”
A soft laugh escapes her. She sets down the folder she’s carrying on the dresser, then turns to me, a question in her eyes. My pulse thumps. We haven’t been alone like this since that night under the moon. Sure, we’ve shared glances and fleeting touches, but nothing that crosses a line.
Now, though, a craving simmers, fueled by the tension we both carry. “You all right?” I ask quietly, stepping closer.
She meets my gaze, a swirl of anticipation and nerves in her expression. “I am. Just… every day it feels like the stakes get higher.”
I nod, letting the distance between us disappear until I’m close enough to feel the warmth radiating from her body. “That’s MC life. But it’s rougher when we’re also juggling complicated… connections.”
She exhales, eyes flicking to my lips. “And you think we can handle it?”
My heart hammers. “I do.”
Before I can overthink it, I slide a hand along her waist, the curve of her hip fitting perfectly under my palm. She leans into me, lips parting in a soft sigh. My fingers trail up her back, grazing the hem of her shirt. We’re crossing that line again—consciously this time, not just a stolen kiss in the desert. The awareness shoots adrenaline through my veins.
She lifts her face, and I press my lips to hers, cautious at first. She responds with gentle urgency, arms slipping around my shoulders. The closeness spikes my pulse, a sweet ache building in my chest. There’s relief in the kiss, a confirmation that this connection is real, not just a fantasy spun by late-night rides.
Her fingers thread into my hair, tugging my small ponytail loose. I smile against her mouth, deepening the kiss, letting the tension we’ve both bottled up come pouring out in a rush. My hand spans her lower back, pulling her flush against me. A moan rises in her throat, echoing in the small room and sparking a fresh wave of heat inside me.
“Sierra,” I whisper, voice raw, “I know this is complicated with Frost… and everything else.”
She breaks the kiss, breath ragged. “I know. But you said I could talk to him… that it might be okay.”
I brush a thumb over her cheek, heart hammering. “We share more than just club territory. We’ve been in life-or-death scraps.We protect each other… sometimes that extends to the women we care about. Doesn’t always follow a normal script.”
She blinks, catching the weight of that statement. “So you… share?”
I hesitate, then give a short nod. “Me, Frost, and Ghost… we’ve shared women before. In certain situations. Not a habit, exactly, but it’s not unheard of. I’m not promising it’s easy, but we’ve done it.”
Her eyes widen, curiosity and alarm swirling. “That’s… a lot to take in.”
I duck my head, letting out a shaky exhale. “I don’t want to push you into anything. Just telling you the truth. If you do have feelings for more than one of us, it might not be a dealbreaker.”
She stares at me, searching my gaze. My gut twists, unsure if I’m scaring her away or offering a solution. Then, to my surprise, she leans in again, capturing my mouth in a hungry kiss. Relief and desire flood me. I guide her backward until her legs meet the edge of the cot. We collapse onto the thin mattress, a tangle of limbs and breathy laughter.
My pulse thrums like a drum, each beat echoing in my ears. I slide her shirt higher, fingertips grazing the smooth skin of her waist. The contact elicits a soft gasp. She arches into me, letting me explore, her hands slipping under my own shirt to trace the ink that snakes over my ribs.
