Page 44 of Claimed By The Club
I force a nod, eyes stinging. “Just feels like the ground keeps collapsing under me. Jen was my friend, my business partner. Now she’s linked to the group that wants me dead.” My voice trembles despite my attempts at composure.
He reaches out, squeezing my shoulder. “I’m sorry. I know it’s brutal.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. “Thanks,” I whisper.
His hold lingers for a moment, a silent offer of comfort. My chest feels so heavy, but I find solace in the warmth of his touch. Before I can speak again, Frost steps back into the doorway, addressing Viper.
“You’re assigned to Sierra tonight,” Frost says, voice firm. “Make sure she’s not alone.”
My gaze snaps to Frost, searching for any sign of frustration or jealousy. But his expression remains calm and focused—an odd contrast to the earlier spark of something when he caught me and Viper in a heated moment. He doesn’t elaborate, simply nods once, then walks off, leaving me and Viper alone again.
A faint blush creeps over my cheeks as I recall the last time we were assigned together. We’d ended up crossing lines, though we never regretted it. Now, after all this devastation, a part of me still craves that sense of safety and comfort I find in him. Yet a mixture of emotions roils in my gut, because I’m also tangled up with Frost and Ghost. The lines get blurrier each day.
Viper offers a gentle smile. “Come on. You need some air.”
We exit the stuffy office. The hallway outside remains fairly quiet—most members focus on patching security holes or prepping for the next clash with the Reapers. My tension eases a fraction as we move through the clubhouse. Viper keeps a steadyhand on my elbow, guiding me out the side door into the dusty yard. The late-afternoon sun scorches everything in sight, but at least it’s wide open, no cramped walls closing in.
“How about we go to the safe house?” Viper suggests, nodding toward the small structure on the boundary of the compound. “Some privacy might help, and I can watch the perimeter.”
I nod. “All right.”
We make our way across the yard, dust rising beneath our shoes. A couple of prospects eye us, but none comment. Tensions have made everyone wary of small talk. Once inside the safe house, Viper checks the windows and locks, ensuring everything’s secure. I hover near the worn sofa, setting the documents aside on the rickety coffee table. My heart’s still pounding with a mix of dread and anger at Jen’s betrayal.
Viper finishes his sweep, then turns to me. “All clear,” he says softly, voice echoing in the quiet room.
My composure cracks. I try to keep the tears at bay, but the sight of him standing there, unwavering, tips me over the edge. “I can’t believe Jen would do this,” I whisper, arms folding tight against my chest. “It’s… too much.”
He steps in, wrapping me in a protective embrace. I cling to him, letting the tears spill. Hot shame and grief mingle in my chest. We stand there for a minute, me pressed to his leather cut, him stroking my back in soothing circles.
“It’s all right,” he murmurs into my hair. “You don’t have to be strong every second.”
I draw a ragged breath, trying to steady my voice. “I feel like I’m using up everyone’s patience. The guys, the club… I’m supposed to help, but I’m a mess.”
He cradles my chin, lifting my face so our eyes meet. “You’re not a mess. You’re dealing with betrayal and danger from all sides. Anyone would be overwhelmed.” He searches myexpression, then presses a feather-soft kiss to my forehead. “Let me be here for you.”
My heart twists at the sincerity in his tone. I nod, tears still tracking down my cheeks. He brushes them away with gentle fingers. The hush between us hums with unspoken connection. I lean against him, letting his warmth anchor me. Time stretches as he simply holds me, no rush, no demands.
I sniff, pulling back enough to look at him. “Thank you,” I say, voice unsteady. “You keep saving me, you know?”
His mouth quirks in a half-smile, though sadness lingers in his eyes. “I’m not complaining.”
A sudden wave of longing hits me—part need for comfort, part attraction that’s been simmering between us from the start. My hands drift up to grip the collar of his cut, pulling him closer. His eyes widen slightly, but he doesn’t resist.
“Are you sure?” he murmurs, brow furrowing. “We don’t have to?—”
I shake my head, desperation creeping into my voice. “I just… I need to feel something good right now. Something that isn’t dread or guilt.”
Without waiting, I press my lips to his, my breath shaky from emotion. He stiffens momentarily, then relents, returning the kiss with careful intensity. Our arms wind around each other, the day’s tension translating into a fervent need to connect. The taste of his mouth banishes the bitterness lurking in my throat.
In a few rough, impatient steps, he backs me toward the sofa, his mouth never leaving mine. Our kiss is all teeth and tongue, desperate, like we’re trying to carve ourselves into each other. The second my knees hit the cushions, he grips my hips and yanks me down onto his lap, my thighs spreading wide around him. The thick ridge of his cock presses against me, already hard, already straining against his jeans. I whimper into hismouth, grinding down just to feel him, just to hear the broken groan it wrings from his throat.
The overhead light flickers, casting jagged shadows over us, but I don’t give a fuck. My pulse hammers in my wrists, my throat, between my legs. His heartbeat thunders under my palms where I’ve fisted his shirt, and I can feel it—how badly he wants this. How badly I do.
He tears his mouth from mine, breath ragged. “If you want me to stop?—”
I don’t let him finish. “Don’t.” My hands are already dragging his shirt up, nails scraping over the hot, tight muscle of his stomach. “Please, Viper. Fuck—please.”
That’s all it takes.
