Page 48 of Topaz

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It was early evening when they arrived in Turnabout. Topaz had been right, it had been a little over an hour from St. Xavier to Turnabout Creek, or at least the Ranch where Red was raised now housing the Steels. Rolling past Maggie, Red’s mother’s, home at the front of the ranch, they passed the rescue trailer and back further into the compound where the clubhouse sat like a pot of gold at the end of a very long rainbow.

For her, she got hugs and kisses from the women as she dismounted and checked on Mountain’s other passenger. His focus completely on getting the kitten a saucer of milk.

“Come on Spot, let’s get you something for that tummy.” His massive hand delicately holding the mewing cat who seemed a bit upset to not still be riding. More than once on the ride Mountain had to reach into his jacket to tuck the wild child back in his pocket because the kitten seemed to like the wind in her whiskers.

“Spot?” Topaz laughed a bit.

Mountain shrugged. “I think there’s a reason Cass didn’t ask me what to name Maddox.”

“How’s your pocket?” she asked and peeked inside.

“Dry thankfully,” he said, then stepped inside the compound with a few women following the kitten more than him.

In a way, she felt sorry for Mountain. The Hoez accepted him as a Steel, but having not patched in fully, there was a consensus among them to keep a wide berth. The Roadkillers were twisted and fucked up and Mountain had left before the MC had been taken down and even though he had been vouched for by Free the Hoez never gave more than a night or two with the man. Still he’d accepted their ways for a long time and she wondered if that was why Red was holding back the full patch.

When she turned to see Onyx, his return had a very different reaction. Club members degrading the man for riding bitch behind Freaky. Although his eyes were narrowed, he was taking the ribbing well, waving his hands toward him in the ‘come on, get it all out’ style.

“Exactly how nervous are you about Dreamer finding out?” one man said.

“Freaky, know you like pitchin’ like that before you hopped on the back of his bike? Or was he promising you a game of catch that had you hoppin’ on like a school girl?” Another said.

“Good one,” Onyx replied. “Ya’ll done?”

“It may be months,” Hack said then extended his hand to pull the man into a hug. “Red’s gonna want to have a sit down with the two of you soon. You gonna be good?”

“Trust me whatever these assholes say is nothing to me.”

Hack gave Onyx an understanding look. His native blood had the ACT UP assholes telling him to go back to his country, assuming he was Hispanic and not from the Crow nation. They’d called him things, thrown shit at his bike as he rode through town. Most, he shook off, but once they had tossed a bottle at him when Preacher Girl was on the back. From the tales, because he’d never share, but Preacher Girl had. The attack was stealth, brutal and calculated. No one spoke of whether or not the men lived. Unless you were on disposal duty, the less who knew the better.

Topaz watched Onyx swing his leg over the bike and dismounted easily. The limp he sported she hoped was a mix of the road and not something worse. His eyes trained on her like a predator to prey. The one track mind she hoped they were sharing as he marched over to Topaz, catching her upper arm and pulled.

Dragging her beside him, he continued through the large room that housed the club while they ate, entertained themselves and drank booze all night long. A few people approached him, but his face must have said it all and they backed away. They were a mix of fear and knowing smiles which confused her a bit.

“Which one is yours?” he asked, his voice deep and commanding.

Now, it was her in the lead, taking him down the hallway to the room in the corner where she lived. Her home, her sanctuary in a way. When he reached to turn the knob and found it unlocked the way she left it a few days ago. There was no reason for her to expect anything but her normal mess of a room. The compound was sacred ground. A place where you and yours were safe.

Stepping inside, she reached to pick up discarded clothes that hadn’t made it to the hamper.

“Don’t,” he ordered, closing her door with his foot, then reaching back to lock it, before stepping close and grasping her wrist.

“What are you doing?” Topaz breathed as his fingers wrapped around the back of her neck, pulling her close. Her heart beating erratically in her chest and heat crept through her body.

Leaning down, he took her lips with his own. Claiming her in a way she hadn’t expected but very much wanted.

“You will never ride another man’s bike,” he stated as if a law had been passed. “Do you understand me?”

“That’s not your choice,” she replied knowing she couldn’t just give him what she wanted. Not that easily. Women in the Montana charter claimed their men. Not the other way around.

The fire in his eyes intensified. “You behind Mountain made me want to kill.”

“There was only one pussy Mountain was thinking about on that ride.” Twisting her hand, she took hold of his wrist and brought his hand to her juncture. “This wasn’t it.”

His fingers began to rub through the denim of her jeans. Igniting a fire between her thighs.

“This pussy on the other hand,” she replied, her voice laced with desire. “She was getting all tuned up wishing she was between you and Freaky.”

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