Chapter 7

7

LUKE

W atching Emma's hips sway as she walks into the university, I can only whistle low to myself in appreciation. Damn, how in the hell did I successfully manage to bag this girl already?

The plan had always been to make her mine, but I never imagined Emma would melt into my arms so easily. It's like the connection I feel is just as strong for her. It's a relief. I don't know how long I could have possibly resisted her.

I managed to finish any work I needed to do today early in the morning, but that doesn't mean my day is clear now that Emma is in class. As I pull back out onto the main road, I call Gunnar. He had a new guy shadowing him last night, some kid who begged for a chance to join the club, and now it's time for me to give him the once-over.

"Hey man," I tell him as soon as he picks up. "Still want me to check out the new guy today?"

"Yeah." Gunnar doesn't seem as confident as he was when he first pitched the kid to me. "You probably should."

"Did he not do well during guard duty with you last night?"

Gunnar sighs. "It isn't that he did bad. It's just that he lacks any sort of enthusiasm. And he complained about the late hours. Just once, but come on, man. Overnight watches are basically in the job description. Why volunteer if you don't want to do them?"

Frowning, I tap my fingers on the steering wheel. I've seen this kind of thing before. Young guys who think they want to be Iron Guardians. Guys who want patches for their vest and to be able to tell girls at the bar that they're in a motorcycle club, but have no real passion for what we're all about. There should be no desire for status in the Iron Guardians. We are the defenders of the helpless, not some show-off club that shows up to run our mouths and start fights.

"He's probably just in over his head," I tell Gunnar. "We'll give him one more chance, and then let him down gently if it doesn't work out. Give them some lines about trying again in a few years. Once these dummies have gotten a little older they usually get over the urge to join up just for clout and move on."

"Good call, boss. I'll call the kid and you can meet us at the clubhouse." Gunnar hangs up, leaving me alone in my car in front of the university in a good mood. It's rare for me to be so optimistic.

My life has always been fairly straightforward. I've been serious about the Iron Guardians since I joined up, which meant working hard and taking every responsibility given to me with the utmost seriousness. And once I climbed the ranks and earned my spot as leader, hard work became even more tantamount to keeping everything together.

Now there's Emma. Emma is different. Funny, bright, not anything like my overly-serious ass. We just meshed from the very moment I laid eyes on her. And I can't ignore that fact any more than I can stop breathing.

The drive to the clubhouse takes less time than I want it to. I'd be happy to just be in my own car with the radio on and my thoughts drifting over to the woman I know would be mine. Before I know it, I'm pulling up to the sprawling old brick building.

The Iron Guardians clubhouse is situated in an old paper factory, only the insignia painted above the door giving any indication about what the place really is now.

The outside has been cleaned up, but we haven't bothered with repainting or any sort of cosmetic details. Made out of red brick, the building is enormous—two stories with a basement. The old steel glass windows are placed high on the walls but run the length of the structure, providing plenty of light.

Where the outside still looks old, the inside has been vastly changed. The basement has been completely converted into the Iron Guardians exclusive bar, the Forge, where meetings often take place and where members come to unwind. The ground floor has a bare-bones gym, a garage, and small mechanics area for the bikes to be worked on, and a few offices where our few non-rider members keep everything organized above board so we never have to deal with the cops. In the very front is the lounge area and kitchen.

The top floor holds a handful of bunk rooms for when members need a place to crash when working long shifts instead of heading home. The other half of it is split into two small efficiency apartments where we house victims and families when they need more security than even the Iron Guardians parked outside their homes can offer. It's rare that our presence isn't enough, but the apartments have been invaluable when we need to hide someone away for a few days.

In the back of the clubhouse is an enormous asphalt parking lot, which I steer towards. Five of the Iron Guardians, including Gunnar, are already out there with their bikes. Everyone can ride what they want as long as they are kept in pristine condition, so our riders own a mix of cruisers and sports bikes. I usually wouldn't judge a rookie on what they ride when they first join up, but the banged-up Honda Rebel 250 next to the single stranger parked out back has me scowling.

One side of the small motorcycle is slightly flattened, with huge white scrapes indicating that the kid has laid it down recently. The kids' cheap helmet sitting on the bike's seat, which sports the same white scrapes on one side, confirms it.

I step out of the car, grabbing my vest from the back and shrugging it over my shoulders as I do. Putting it on is like settling into my second identity. My outer armor. The weight of the vest makes me feel grounded and ready for whatever the world will throw at us. The heavy boots are a close second to the vest. And the patch on the chest gives them a clear indication that they need to think twice about crossing us.

I walk towards the guys, nodding to them in greeting as the rookie watches. "Sorry I'm late," I tell Gunnar and the guys as I reach them. "Everything go well last night?"

"As well as expected." Gunnar grins at me, a light in his eyes that tells me the reason why he didn't get any sleep last night. "Lots of nothing, then a call about a possible prowler. We searched all night but never found the guy."

"So we got to sit outside all night long, like babysitters," the new kid grumbles, crossing his arms.

"Well," I interject before Gunnar can respond to the young guy's disrespect, "if you didn't want to sit there all night, you should have taken your bike and done laps. Maybe then you would have found our mysterious prowler. But looking at the damage on your bike tells me that might have been above your pay grade."

I pause, turning my head towards the guy to gauge his reaction. I'm not disappointed. He glares at me, obviously irritated that I'm telling him he was wrong, and he has nothing to say in return.

"That's what I thought." I shrug before crossing my arms. "I assume you're our rookie. My name is Luke Morgan. I'm the club president."

He hesitates, probably wondering if he should stick to his guns or be more polite to me. He obviously doesn't want to lose this opportunity to become part of our MC, but I don't care how much he wants it. I need to know that the guys in our MC are loyal to a fault and always have our town's back. If I can't trust this kid with the most simple of duties, then what use will he be to us?

Finally, he holds out his hand in my direction. "I'm Jason. I appreciate you considering me. I know I have a lot to learn, but I promise I'll be dedicated."

The guys all watch in silence, but Gunnar is looking at the kid with an expression of disappointment and pity as he lowers his hand back to his side.

Jason can sense it, his body tense and his jaw clenched.

"Jason." I keep my face a mask. I have no idea what happened last night to make him look like he ran over his own bike, and I don't want to ask. But I have to do it. It's my duty as club president to make sure the rookie isn't an idiot or a coward, and I can already tell that's exactly what he is. "What happened?" I nod to the bike.

Jason doesn't answer right away, so Gunnar does instead. "He, ah, laid it down pulling into the parking lot about 30 minutes ago. Trying to show off, maybe." Gunnar's not angry about it. I think he's already decided the kid isn't cut out for this, but he doesn't want to be the one to deliver the news to the club.

Jason flushes. "I was trying to avoid something."

"You should be able to avoid whatever you were avoiding without laying it down," I point out. I can't let this one slide, no matter how badly everyone else wants to let him. "It's an easy bike. No big engine. No sharp turns or anything. Just a straight shot, you know?"

Jason's mouth twists and I can tell he wants to make a snappy retort. I cock an eyebrow at him and his mouth snaps closed. He knows that I can have his chance for membership revoked on the spot, no questions asked. If he doesn't have respect for us or this MC, there is no place here for him.

"If this is how you act on a bike you're used to, how do you think you'd react when you finally get one with some power?" I exhale through my teeth, rolling my eyes to the sky to try and find some patience. "Look. Jason, was it? We both know you aren't exactly nailing this audition. I'm going to give you one more chance tonight to go out with Gunnar and his team, but if you blow it, then we're just going to call it done. No harm, no foul, get it? We just can't have anything but the most steady guys with the Guardians. Maybe get a few years of riding under your belt and try again."

I pause, giving Jason time to answer, but he's staring at the ground looking dejected and sullen. His reaction tells me everything I need to know. He wants the glory and the prestige, but he's not willing to put the time and work into becoming someone truly valuable to the MC.

I turn to the others, jerking my head back to the clubhouse. "I'm going to go get a beer. Why don't the rest of you take this opportunity to show him how an escort job should work?" I don't give the guy another look as I turn on my heel, making my way to the door of the clubhouse. The sun is still beating down overhead, warming the back of my neck as I pull the heavy steel door open.

The door leads into a dark, cool entryway where my eyes can adjust. The clubhouse is filled with light and laughter when I walk through the doorway, a sense of peace and belonging settling in my chest. I trust Gunnar to give me a fair judgment tomorrow about Jason, and now I just have a few hours to burn until Emma is ready for me to retrieve her.

With a slow smile, I make my way to the Forge, already thinking about how I can make tonight special for my girl. I've got a lot of ideas for how the first part of the evening will go, but there's only one possible conclusion.

I'm going to fuck Emma Lawson tonight, and I'm going to make it impossible for her to ever forget.

I pick Emma up at 4 PM, and the tension from this morning has melted off her beautiful face.

"It's over," she breathes, climbing into my car like she's done it a million times. "And I think I passed with flying colors! I won't know until Monday, but I'm really confident."

I laugh, taking in the bright smile that makes me feel like everything else is background noise. I reach for her, and she doesn't hesitate to lean forward and accept a quick kiss.

"Congratulations. I know you put a lot of work into that exam, you should be really proud of yourself."

Her eyes twinkle when I pull back, a light pink dusting her cheeks. I can feel how much my praise means to her. The girl just lights up. It makes me want to give her compliments every day until she understands just how fucking amazing she is.

Emma hums as she leans back into the car seat, her eyes looking off into the distance, like she's already imagining something else that could be a future possibility.

I can't wait to show her that I'm going to be her future. Her present too. I want everything that she's willing to give me, and then some.

The drive back to my house goes quickly with Emma chatting happily next to me, but when we arrive, I have to separate from her for a moment.

"I have a few things to take care of in the garage, but afterward I'm taking you to dinner and then we're going to go for a ride. So get ready." I reach over and run my thumb over her bottom lip. "You might want to change your shoes into something a little more comfortable."

Her face is alight with a smile that makes me feel like everything in my world is right as she gets out of the car, bounding into the house. The thought of her running around the house, in the place that will be hers someday too, makes me smile to myself.

The garage isn't anything special, but I've built up a collection of things that make it mine. I check my messages, pencil in a few appointments, order a few needed parts, and before I know it, it's approaching 6 PM. Time to get myself ready.

One of the women we helped out last year was the executive chef at a small farm-to-table restaurant on the edges of Stonebridge. It's gotten popular enough that it's almost impossible to get a reservation, but when I called her earlier, she was more than happy to make space for Emma and me.

I have just enough time for a quick shower, making sure to dress in my nicest pair of black jeans and a freshly laundered dark gray T-shirt. I shrug my vest over my shoulders, feeling the leather settle like a second skin. This vest is one of the first things I earned as part of the MC. There are several different patches sewn on, including the name and logo of our club, a list of charities we've sponsored over the years, and one of the most important—a memorial to those members we've lost.

I knock on the guest room door, and Emma answers, a book in her hand and a warm look on her face. She's dressed in a sunny yellow sundress, and white Converse sneakers on her feet. I'm glad she took my advice for proper motorcycle wear.

She's so fucking gorgeous that I want to snatch the book from her hand and back her into the bedroom, forgoing dinner reservations and any other plans just to have her to myself in bed. But Emma needs to be romanced, and while romance has always seemed like a foreign concept, she brings the possibility out in me.

"I hope you're ready because the longer we're in this house, the closer I am to locking you in and never leaving," I joke, but neither of us misses the note of seriousness in my tone.

"I'm ready," she chirps, putting the book down and closing the guest room door behind her. "I'm starving."

Walking her out to my bike, I grab her the spare helmet and slide my own over my head. I feel a rush of pride looking at my motorcycle—a customized Harley Night Train—a far cry from the used bucket of bolts I bought out of the newspaper classifieds decades ago. Emma rode with me last night, but it was so late, and we were both drunk on adrenaline. Now I know she can really enjoy the experience.

The engine comes to life with a deep rumble, and Emma throws a leg over the seat, her sundress riding high on her toned thighs. I lean back into her, breathing deeply. It feels right to have her on the back of my bike, and it's only taken me forty years to figure out.

The restaurant isn't far, so it doesn't take us long to reach it. Parking my bike, we make our way into the restaurant where we're greeted warmly and shown to our seats. The table is small and intimate, perfect for a romantic meal, but we don't talk about what this all means. I want to be with her. She's here. That's enough for right now.

After a meal filled with lighthearted banter and playful flirting, the conversation takes a serious turn.

"What did you do today while I was at school?"

"Interviewed some Iron Guardian hopeful." I shake my head. "He's probably hopeless. I've been doing this for a long time. I can tell when someone just doesn't have it in them to do the work we do. Sometimes that's because they're just too scared, but sometimes they're just bad." The food arrives and we pause as the server sets the dishes down, giving our thanks before turning our attention back to each other. "I see it more and more with these younger guys. It makes me worried about the future of the club."

"But you still want to lead the Iron Guardians? Even if the new generation isn't up to the task?"

The answer is easy. "Yeah, I do. We just need to branch out a little farther. Find those untapped areas. I think there are still good people up to the task. People just have to be willing to try."

We focus on our meals. Emma ordered a huge garden salad with grilled chicken, and I went with the seared steak dinner with baked potatoes and sauteed broccoli. I don't miss the way Emma looks at my plate, and I make sure to give her a few bites.

I've always taken care of everyone, but this is something new. The feeling I get when Emma accepts the offered bites is intoxicating, a desire to nurture and protect welling up inside me.

Our conversation meanders from the Iron Guardians and the work I do as a custom bike builder and mechanic to our lives growing up. Emma had a quiet upbringing with her mother and siblings, while mine was chaotic and unstable, but neither of us was ever really happy. I've spent the better part of forty years just surviving, and I know it's time for more.

When the light starts to change outside, I know it's time to go so I can put the second phase of my date into action. The other Guardians might laugh at me and my newfound romantic streak, but I don't care. Anything to put that look of adoration in Emma's eyes.

I pay the bill, taking a second to talk to the chef who was our ward a year ago, watching Emma head outside into the late sunshine absentmindedly. She's only away from me for a few minutes, but her absence starts to bother me immediately. I cut the conversation short, a bad feeling starting to churn in my stomach. Being the leader of the Guardians has taught me to trust my gut, and when I turn the corner to the parking lot, I see that once again my gut was right.

Emma is standing next to my motorcycle, her arms crossed and her body language anxious but annoyed. In front of her, too close for my liking, is a man. He's leaning towards her, crowding her against the bike, and even at a distance, I know he's trying to hit on her.

I'm already pissed, striding towards them, ready to kick the guy's ass if he tries to give me any shit, but I'm still in control of myself. That all changes when he reaches out to adjust the shoulder strap of Emma's dress, his fingers touching her skin, and I see red.

Emma, too preoccupied to see me approach, tries to pull away. She's uncomfortable but too polite to say anything. Her eyes are pleading, her posture stiff. She doesn't want to be touched, but she doesn't want to start anything.

I won't stand by and let him put his hands on her. I won't let him treat her that way, so I interrupt them. "Hands off." The man, a young guy closer to Emma's age, looks at me as though I'm the one who has offended him, his expression changing from irritation to amusement when he notices Emma looking at me. He moves to place an arm around her, but I'm quicker and snatch the limb, twisting his wrist. "What did I say?"

"Listen, dude," the man snarls, trying to get his wrist free. "Emma and I know each other from class. So if you don't mind..."

I step between them, pushing Emma slightly behind me, blocking the man from reaching her. I don't miss the way Emma looks at me with awe. The look sends a thrill through me. She looks at me like I'm the best man she's ever known, and that is something I could get used to. But I want to be the only person she turns to when she needs help. A man she'll trust.

"You should learn when to stay away."

"Who do you think you are?" He looks between me and Emma. "Is he your dad?" He laughs. "Come on, Em, you don't need a chaperone." He gives me a hard look, sizing me up. He must not think much of his chances because he tries to reach around me to touch Emma's arm, to pull her back to his side, and that's not going to work. Not in my city. Not with my woman.

The moment his arm snakes past my waist to snatch at Emma's arm I lose it, turning and pushing the asshole so hard that he falls backward. It's satisfying to see his feet trip over themselves. He catches his balance, but just barely, and a moment later he's squaring up to me, but I can see the fear in his eyes.

"Do you have a death wish?" I sneer.

The man snaps, throwing a slow, clumsy punch. I don't even bother moving. I don't need to, because I'm just too fast for the man. It's pathetic to watch his arm flail around as he misses my face by a mile. He stumbles forward from the momentum, and I reach out to grab the lapel of his blazer, righting him. I make sure I get a good, tight grip before I drag him forward, pushing him in the direction of his car. It's the last chance for him to leave before I make him really hurt.

He's an idiot, though, and pivots to come at me again. I have time to sigh before he swings, and this time, I swing back, clocking him across the jaw with my free hand. I don't hit him that hard, just enough to knock him off balance, but his jaw drops open as he reaches up to clutch at it. He tries to back away but he can't, his foot caught on the uneven pavement. It's enough to keep him where I need him to be.

I drag him to his vehicle and pin him against the car with my forearm against his chest. I have the upper hand. "Get the fuck out of here, and don't say another damned word, you understand? You're lucky I'm not making you a fucking smear on the pavement."

I don't think he's going to retaliate, but I don't give him the chance, giving him one last shake before walking away, back towards Emma. She has her hands clasped in front of her, a mix of nerves and adoration written on her face.

"He's just some guy in one of my classes," she blurts out, desperate to explain who he is to me.

"Emma," I breathe her name, hoping to stop her before she explains too much. It's not her fault I got territorial over her, and it's not her fault she doesn't know why I'm so protective, either.

She quiets immediately. "Yeah?"

I motion for her to follow me. "We're done with that fucker. Come with me." I lead her to the motorcycle and grab her helmet, handing it over. I know what's coming next. "I want to take you to a special place."

We climb back onto the Night Train, and then we're rolling through the countryside, the sun sinking lower and lower in the sky and thoughts of her harasser behind us.

There's a hill on the outside of town, where a small back road winds up to the very top. There's a field there, downhill just a bit so it isn't visible from the road, but still nice and flat with soft grass. It's hidden enough that I've never seen another soul, and after stumbling across it one night, it's where I go when I need some space to think. It also just so happens to be the best place around to watch the sunset.

We roll up the hill, and I smile when I hear a happy noise from behind me as the bike comes to a stop. I turn back to find her taking off the helmet, her smile bright and warm as she shakes out her hair. "This is gorgeous, Luke! I had no idea this was up here. How did you find this place?"

"It was late and I just needed a place to get my head on straight. This was one of those moments, so I went for a long drive to clear my head. When I came to this spot, it was empty. I could see the stars in all their glory, and I just sat out there for hours. This is the first time I've ever brought anyone up here."

I have a tightly folded camping blanket in the bike's side satchel that's way bigger than it looks, and Emma waits patiently as I spread it out for us in the field.

"Well I'm honored to be the first person to visit here with you," Emma replies with a small, secret smile on her face that has me wanting to devour her on the spot.

She sits down, the hem of her skirt sliding up those pale, perfect thighs. The yellow of the dress makes her pale skin glow. Her cheeks are rosy from the bike ride up, but as I sit down, her eyes go wide, bright shining like gems, as I bring her onto my lap."We're going to have a few firsts tonight, baby girl."

Her breathing picks up and the heat of her is almost more than I can stand, but I keep myself still.

"Luke?" Her voice is small, almost frightened, but it isn't the fear that keeps me away from her, it's the hesitancy. The need to know she can trust me. I'll do anything in the world to be trusted by this girl.

"Yes, Emma." I bring my hand up to her face, stroking over that silky cheek as the sun sinks low on the horizon. I lean forward, bringing our lips a mere hair's breadth from one another. "Tell me what you want. Anytime, anywhere, anything. You say the word and I am yours."

My eyes hold hers and she lets out a small, hiccuping breath that has me tightening my arm around her, wanting to bring her into the very center of me, keep her safe always. "Kiss me."

I swallow her soft request with a deep kiss, holding her tight. There's so much more I want to give her, and the possibilities stretch out in front of us. It isn't going to be easy. The two of us come from different places and have different backgrounds.

I'll be the first to admit I've got an anger management problem. The MC helped me focus on doing good with that, channeling my anger towards something constructive, something good. Emma needs to know she can come to me for anything.

"Emma, baby girl, tell me what you need."

She blinks her pretty eyes, her lips forming one word. "You."

I brush my mouth against hers, then give her the gentlest of bites before trailing down her chin, nibbling and kissing my way down the long, graceful line of her throat. She groans as her head drops back and the sight of her slender neck arching, begging for more, is enough to bring out the monster. I let him out to play, sinking my teeth into that smooth skin until I can see my marks blooming under the surface of her skin.

It makes me feel drunk, knowing that my marks are going to be on her skin for days to come, a visible reminder that she is mine.

She shivers and lets out the most beautiful whimpers as I trail kisses lower, nuzzling her breast through the silky material. I feel her heart beating underneath and press a kiss there.

I continue, dropping my hand to rest on the smooth skin of her knee. I trace up the outside of her leg slowly, teasing the skin of her thigh, giving it little squeezes that have her legs spreading. The sun is finally dipping below the horizon in full, but neither of us has eyes for anything but each other.

I planned to take her back to the house, take her virginity slowly and carefully in bed like she deserves. Hell, I even placed candles around the place, feeling foolish as I did so. For her, I wanted everything to be right.

But now things are spinning out of control, out here under the open sky, both of us barreling towards something monumental. Something that can't be taken back. I can try to be slow, try to be gentle, but need is pulsing through me so intensely that I don't feel totally in control.

She whimpers and her eyes go wide when I tease her pussy, petting through her panties. The fabric is silky against my fingers, and when I pull them aside, I find her slick, her pussy swollen.

Her head drops to my chest, her soft, panting breaths fanning against the thin fabric of my T-shirt, making it grow damp. It's intoxicating.

"Luke." Her voice is needy, but her hands are timid as she clutches my shirt.

"Fuck, baby girl." I pause, using all my self-control to do so. "We need to slow down or I'm not going to be able to stop. You deserve?—"

"No." For the first time since I first kissed her out here, there's stubbornness in her voice. "I don't want you to stop." Emma swallows hard but raises her chin, making a decision. "I want you to take me, Luke. Here and now."

All the threads of my control fray and snap, and I'm hanging on by my fingertips. "If you mean it, Emma, ask right."

My last bit of control is gone and I'm in freefall as she does just as I ask, making sure there's no turning back as the words leave her lips. "Fuck me, Daddy."