Chapter 37

CHAPTER

THIRTY-SEVEN

CLINK

After sending Dillion back up to bed, I move toward Fate and Piston. Their eyes are dancing as I approach. I know they heard that whole fucking conversation, and I’m sure they’re going to give me shit over it.

They can do that later. Right now, we have to keep an eye on what’s happening with the gun shipments. “Has the warehouse been secured?” I ask, turning my head to Fate.

He jerks his chin. “It’s in Shreveport, rented under the name Conrad. Demon Guns will know exactly who the fuck that is. And they don’t know he’s dead yet. This is going to be the biggest scheme I’ve ever been part of,” Fate mutters.

“Not our normal MO, but I’m fucking thrilled to watch it play out,” I say.

The trucks are all scheduled to deliver the arms to that warehouse in Shreveport. Which means we will have complete possession of them. The Demon Guns will get zero money, and the Southern Mafia will look like they received the shipment yet didn’t pay.

They’ll be at war with one another. Meanwhile, we’ll have their weapons and attack them from behind. And attack them, we will. Because fuck both of their groups. Fuck them all.

King walks out of Atomic’s office and makes his way toward our small group. “Nash is back in Corpus. He’s got James and said she’s safe. Also said she didn’t seem as on board with the whole thing as Vixen claimed she was, so I don’t know what the fuck that is about.”

“The gun shipments are moving in the right direction. Everyone has confirmed the drop-off location change. We should be watching a full-blown war erupt in a few days.”

“I’m fucking here for it,” King growls. “I’m ready for these clubs to be goddamn extinct.”

I feel the same fucking way. “Ready to have the whole fucking thing done and breathe for five fucking minutes.”

“Have a feeling that’s about all the time we’ll have, too,” King says with a chuckle.

“It begins,” Piston calls out.

Looking at him, I jerk my chin. He grins. “First shipment has been delivered.”

“What time do we go and move everything out?” Atomic asks as he walks out of the hallway from his office.

Fate clears his throat and answers for me. “The first group of men already left with the truck. Nobody is flying colors. This operation needs to be as nondescript as possible. And when that truck comes back here, we’ll unload before we send it back to Shreveport.”

“How long will this last?” he asks.

It’s my turn to answer. “Tomorrow, ten in the morning, will be the last one. We should be fully equipped by then with the Southern Mafia and Demon Guns being none the wiser… until the Demons don’t get paid.”

“Good,” Atomic grunts.

Clearing my throat, I decide to ask about Dillion. She’s been cooped up here, imprisoned for days, and I know she wants to get out. I don’t blame her. I recognize the feeling more than most, and the fact that she’s been so fucking understanding about it makes me want to get her out of here even sooner.

“Any news on Dillion and her shit?” I ask.

Atomic rocks back on his heels, and his eyes find mine. “The contract is out. Someone has it, and they’re looking for her. Beyond that, it’s all kept hush-hush.”

“She can’t live here forever. I won’t make her a prisoner.”

He clears his throat before he speaks again. “I think that once we get these clubs taken down, it’ll be a moot point. There won’t be anyone to pay this person, so they’ll move along.”

I don’t like the fact that there isn’t a clear answer here. And that we won’t know if someone is after my woman. How do you constantly live life looking over your shoulder, watching your back forever? Because that’s exactly what that would be. And that sounds goddamn miserable.

I suck in a breath and hold it for a moment before I let it out slowly. I don’t like his answer. But I’m not sure there is another one out there.

So, at this point, we have to wait and see what the fuck is going to happen. “I’ll keep her here until this shit has calmed down, but when it’s done, we have to live our lives. Dillion deserves at least that,” I murmur, more talking to myself than Atomic.

“She does,” he murmurs. “She’s fuckin’ been through it, and both of you deserve to start your lives.”

Jerking my chin toward him, I almost jump out of my skin when my phone buzzes in my hand. It’s a text message, and that message makes me smile. It’s Wackie. He’s helping out today, and he’s sent the confirmation that they are on their way back with the first full load of weapons.

“Piston?” I call out.

His head swings to me. “Where is the second delivery?”

I watch as he looks down on his phone. Every single person turned on their tracking notifications, which is goddamn mind-boggling that they would do that. But I guess that’s what they’d been doing with these.

“They’re about five miles out,” he announces.

“Wackie and the first shipment have already left. We need the second set of men to head out now.”

The clubhouse is a little over an hour from Shreveport, so if they leave now, it will give the second shipment time to unload the weapons and leave before we get there. Then we can load them in our truck and drive them away before the third shipment arrives.

The rest of the day is spent ensuring that trucks are going to and from without running into one another. And when it’s finished, when all shipments have not only been made but picked up and brought back here, I let out a sigh of relief.

“We’re done,” I call out.

King lets out a whoop, and then the beers begin to flow. I’m handed one, then another. They go down as easily and quickly as water. Maybe even easier, especially considering I don’t drink water that often.

The clubwhores start to make their way out of the back room. I’m not surprised they stayed in there all day and half the evening. We haven’t been a very welcoming group lately. We’ve been focused and busy.

Hopefully, most of this shit is over with, and we can get back to delivering kegs, being loan sharks, and Sal’s Bar. All three of those things are running well right now and make enough revenue to support our entire club. But I have to admit that this arms shit is pretty tempting.

Maybe that’s something we can look into in the future, but for right now, my focus is on Dillion and her safety. I want to make sure she is completely safe. My woman should be able to go anywhere she fucking wants without the fear of being kidnapped or having her head blown off.

So, at this point, that is my priority.

Money is secondary, and we have time for that. I don’t have the time for something to happen to Dillion. I fucking love her, and there is nothing else I want in this world but her happiness and safety.

That is all that matters.

When I stand from the bar, I sway slightly. Ignoring the party around me, I decide that I need to be with her. I need to feel her body and know that she’s here. She’s real. She’s mine. I need to hear her voice, the noises she makes, the way her lips feel against mine.

Moving toward the bedroom, I push the door open and see Dillion lying in bed. I don’t even know what time it is, so I’m sure it’s late. I haven’t had much sleep lately. I’m ready to crawl into bed, come, and sleep.

I close the door behind me and lock it before I start to strip out of my clothes. Then I climb up the end of the bed and crawl beside her. Slowly, Dillion turns to face me, her eyelids fluttering open slowly.

They find mine, and then her lips curve up into a smile. “Hey, you came to bed,” she murmurs.

Reaching out, she curls her fingers around the side of my neck. Her thumb slides across my bottom lip as her gaze searches mine. “I came to bed,” I murmur. “Most of the shit is done.”

Her eyes widen, and her smile grows. “Does that mean we can go home?”

“We?” I ask.

She laughs softly. “Well, it’s almost your house. So I guess it’s ours now…”

“It’s ours,” I murmur, leaning forward to touch my lips to hers.

Slipping my tongue inside of her, I taste her, and my cock instantly becomes rock hard. I have to have her. I need to be inside of her and feel her body wrapped around mine. I need to know she’s alive—breathing and fucking mine.

Because that’s who and what she is.

My woman.

DILLION

Humble rolls so he’s on top of me, his hips fitting perfectly between mine. I wrap my legs around his hips and try to bring him closer to me. He hasn’t even touched me, and I’m ready for him. So ready that if I don’t feel him inside of me soon, I might just explode.

I open my mouth to beg, but I don’t have to because he presses the head of his length against my center and glides inside of me. He stretches me. Whimpering, I gasp as I look into his eyes.

Humble’s teeth sink into my bottom lip. I watch as he rolls it back and forth a few times before he releases it. His hips slowly move, rolling as his pelvis grinds against my clit. I grip his biceps as I look into his eyes. I watch as his jaw clenches, and then sweat breaks out over his forehead.

He’s holding back. I know he is. He’s about to lose control. I want that. I’m ready for it. He holds back every time we’re together, but just this once, I want him to lose it. My nails sink into his biceps.

Lifting my head, I nip his bottom lip. “Fuck me, Humble.”

He jerks his head back slightly, his gaze wildly searching mine. I feel his hand reach back, his fingers curling around the back of my knee, and he squeezes me there before he guides my leg away from his hip and presses it against the mattress, widening me.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he rasps, his hips still moving.

I’m stretched wide, and I feel like I might actually split in half. I’ve never felt this way before, and even though there is a bite of pain, I don’t think I would mind being split in half at this point.

His hips roll.

I can’t look away from him.

His gaze holds me completely and wholly. With each roll of his hips, he thrusts harder and harder. My body moves up on the bed with each thrust, my breasts shifting with each jostle. They feel heavy. My nipples are hard, and I wish his lips were wrapped around them.

I want it.

Need it.

Crave it.

“Please, Humble. Please,” I beg.

I don’t know what I’m begging for, anything and everything maybe. All at once. I want it all. And I know he’s the man to give it to me. Only him. It’s only ever been him, and it will only ever be him.

“Are you going to come, baby?” he demands.

I’m on the edge, seconds from falling over the cliff. I am so ready to come that I can taste it. My nails dig into his biceps even harder, no doubt scoring his skin, but he doesn’t seem to care.

His fingers grip the backs of my knee even tighter, holding it down against the mattress, pressing harder as his hips thrust, each roll harder and faster. His sweat drips from his forehead, down his nose, and onto my chest.

My orgasm slams into me. It rips through my entire body from head to toe. My muscles tighten, and my back bows. Releasing his biceps, my fingers wrap around the sides of his neck as I cry out with my release.

Humble continues to pump in and out of me, his rhythm unwavering until he buries himself deep. A roar escapes his mouth, bouncing off the walls around us, and then his eyes slide closed.

I watch them.

Slowly, they open, and he stays buried to the hilt, his beautiful gaze finding mine—connecting to mine. I only lose his visible connection when he lowers his head and his lips touch mine.

“I love you, Dillion. Marry me, baby.”

My gasp isn’t something I can control. Humble lifts his head slightly, his gaze unmoving when he connects it to mine again. He is waiting for my answer, something I’m sure he thought I would rush to give.

But I don’t.

He releases his grasp on my knee and cups my cheek slightly. Lifting my hips, I roll him over so he is on his back and I’m above him. Then I place my hands on his chest and look into his eyes, tears filling my own.

“You lied to me, Humble. You lied to me and snuck around. Now you’re asking me to marry you?” I ask.

He doesn’t say anything, but his gaze narrows slightly. This is a man who, if I hurt his pride, would never swallow it and admit his wrongdoing. He still hasn’t even apologized for the lies he told me.

“I am.”

He has zero shame, but that doesn’t surprise me. It’s not like he ever has. He’s like all the men I’ve had around me my entire life. And yet, he’s nothing like them. I slide my palm up his chest and his neck, and then I cup his cheek.

“I love you, Humble. I’m probably the biggest fool on earth for it, but I do love you. You lied to me, and I’m willing to forget it all because I love you. I want to say yes,” I whisper.

“But?”

“No buts. I want to say yes,” I whisper.

“Dillion.” His voice is a clear warning to me.

Laughing softly, I lean down slightly. My lips touch his, my tongue sliding across his bottom lip. Shifting my head back slightly, I look into his eyes again, clearing my throat as I do. He looks like he’s about ready to rip my head off. He’s clearly on edge and waiting for my answer.

“I want to say yes, and so I will say yes. But I would like a long engagement. I think we should get to know one another better, longer.”

Humble wraps his fingers around the back of my neck and squeezes. “Marry me today, tomorrow, or in two years. Don’t give a fuck when, baby. You’re mine today, just as you’ll be in five years. I’m just fucking pleased.”

The engagement is sealed with a kiss. A hard, wet one. And for the first time in my life, even though I’m trapped in this clubhouse under lock and key—I feel free. I feel beautiful, loved, and truly free.

I’m free from my past.

I’m free from my family.

I’m free from the anger and shame.

I am just free.

And it’s Humble who frees me—his love.