Off Limits: A Bedlam Butchers MC Romance (The Motorcycle Clubs Book 2) (5 page)

Grass snarls and lunges for Solo, and I gasp.

Gem steps in between them, and a few other Butchers join in the ring to keep control. Gem takes control of the mic again. “First fight of the night is between Grass and Solo. Eighty-Eight Henchmen versus the Bedlam Butchers. What’ll it be, boys? Blood, breaks, or buried?”

He’s asking them the rules. I suck in a breath, wondering what they’ll choose. First blood? First broken bone? Or to the death? I don’t want anyone dying over me—I just want to be left alone by the Eighty-Eight.

I hold my breath for even longer as Solo shrugs and gestures that it’s Grass’s choice. Please. Please. Please.

Grass’s lip curls. “I ain’t dying for any cunt.” He spits at Solo’s feet. “Breaks.”

“Breaks it is,” Gem drawls.

“But if you want to sweeten the pot,” Grass continues, his gaze locked on Solo. “You’ll toss in the woman. Winner takes her home with him.”

I hear Kitty gasp nearby, and my entire body goes cold. He’s basically cornered Eric. If Eric says no, it’s as if he doesn’t trust that he’ll win the fight. But if he says yes….there’s a possibility I’ll end up with Grass. My stomach recoils at the thought.

Solo looks out to me and waits.

He’s going to let it be my decision. I press my hand to my lips. I don’t want to decide. I don’t want to be up for bids. But if I say no, Eric loses face. Do I trust him enough to put my body on the line for him? Do I trust him to pound the shit out of Grass? I’m usually not present for the fights. I don’t know how good Eric is. I know he’s toned, but I also know he’s got a limp from A-stan that occasionally shows up when he’s tired or hurting.

But…if I can’t trust him to have my back, who can I trust?

Hoping I haven’t sealed my fate, I nod.

A slow, delicious smile spreads across Solo’s face, and I feel like I’ve made the right choice despite the terrifying wager. From the look on his face, he’s utterly confident he can win; he just wanted me to be confident in him, too. “Lucky’s up for grabs too, then,” he tells my brother.

For a moment, Gemini looks like he wants to murder both of them. But he restrains himself. “Fine. That’ll be our first match. Next up. Any other beef?”

Solo jumps out of the ring and heads back to my side as more men enter the ring, more bouts are scheduled. But I can only see Eric’s smiling face in front of mine. And as he pulls me in for a hard kiss, I hope he pounds the shit out of Grass.

• • •

The next hour is the longest one of my life. We wait, and Solo keeps his arms wrapped around me as bids are placed and people bet on whether I’ll walk out the door with Solo or with Grass. I want to find out what everyone’s bidding on—if it’s Solo or the enemy, but I’m afraid to find out the answer. What if I don’t like it?

But then the lights go down, the bell clangs, and Solo hands me his cut. “Keep this safe for me, babe. I’ll be back to pick it up in a bit.”

“Okay,” I tell him breathlessly, and clutch it to my chest.

He winks at me and then enters the ring, stripping his shirt off. He’s utterly gorgeous. The spotlight makes hollows of his defined muscles, and his Butchers ink across his shoulders makes me proud. He looks like a rough boxer of old, especially with those maddening sideburns. Grass, on the other hand, looks puny in comparison. I’m sure I’m biased, and I’m sure I don’t care.

Gem steps in the middle as the two men begin to circle. “First to a break wins the match. Ready?” He looks at Grass.

Grass nods, a sneer on his face.

Solo nods, too.

“Fight,” Gem yells, and then backs out of the way.

Grass immediately comes in swinging. Solo ducks him and moves out of the way, his stance easy, his shoulders and body moving like a boxer. He’s dancing circles around Grass, waiting for the other man to swing. And when he does, Solo makes it look like a joke. Grass lunges for him again, and again, Solo sways out of his reach.

Then, he turns, and quick as anything, he plants a bare fist into Grass’s face.

The Henchman reels, blood spurting from his mouth, and everyone on the front row takes a collective step backward to avoid being spattered. Grass clings to the ropes, wipes his mouth, and turns around to go at Solo again. He lands a glancing hit, but Solo quickly shakes it off and keeps moving.

Hits are traded back and forth, but it’s clear that Solo can run circles around Grass. The Henchman is fit, but Solo’s built like a prizefighter and it’s clear he’s done this sort of thing before. My heart hammers as he decks Grass across the face, and the other man flies around and lands on the mat, hard. But then he gets up again, and the dance starts over. Swing, feint, hit, recover.

The next time he’s down, Grass grabs at Solo’s legs and manages to knock him off his feet. I gasp as Eric flies down to the mat, and then the men are tumbling together, hands flying. I barely know where to look as they roll across the mat.

But then Eric’s sitting on top of Grass’s chest, and he plows a fist into the man’s face. Once, twice, three times. The third time, I hear something crack and blood sprays across the both the mat and Solo.

Grass screams in pain, and his hands go to his face. “You broke my fucking nose!”

“Good,” Solo snarls. He gets off of the other man as Gem and the enforcers enter the ring. But instead of letting Grass go, he flips him over and grinds his face into the mat, and Grass screams again as his broken face is slammed hard against the ring again. “You touch Lucky again, and I’m going to break every goddamn bone in your body. You hear me?”

They pull him off before Grass can answer, but it’s clear from Solo’s body language that he means it. I’m breathless with excitement as he scans the audience, looking for my face. He’s covered in blood and sweat and he’s got bruises purpling on his face…

And I want to fuck the hell out of him.

He bounds down to my side and it’s clear I’m not the only one on an adrenaline spike at the moment. I hold out his cut for him, but he ignores it and grabs me, instead. He drags me against him for a kiss, and his lip is split and he’s bleeding and I totally don’t care. I wrap a leg around him and he hikes me up around his hips and we could go at it right there and I wouldn’t care.

“Gem’s got an office, right? Cause I need to fuck you right about now.”

“In the back,” I pant. And I need to be fucked, too.

People are whistling and slapping Solo on the back as we make out and stagger toward the back office. It’s not an easy thing to do when the entire Meat Locker is full of bikers hopped up on all kinds of shit, but we manage to fumble to the back, and there’s the door. Solo tries the handle. Locked. “Fuck,” he snarls.

“Got a pressie from the pressies,” calls a voice, and I look over Solo’s shoulder to where Kitty is standing, a knowing grin on her face. She’s dangling the keys from one hand. Then she winks and tosses them to me. “You’re welcome.”

I catch them and search the ring for the right key. My fingers are trembling with need, and Solo’s hot body is pressing me up against the door, as if he’s going to fuck me against it if I don’t open the office ASAP. He just might.

But then the key turns in the lock and we fall inside. Gem’s desk is covered in papers, and I hesitate. “Where—”

Solo slams the door shut and locks it. Then, he turns me and pushes me down on the desk, my belly on a stack of invoices. “Right fucking here, babe.” His fingers rip at my shorts, and the laces fall apart again. Then, he’s dragging them down my hips, and I barely have time to bite my lip before he’s unbuckled his pants.

And then he shoves into me, hard and huge. I cry out because God, it feels incredible.

“You on the pill?” he asks hoarsely. When I nod, he slams into me again, and the papers on Gem’s desk scatter. I cling to the edge of the desk, bracing myself for the next hard thrust.

My pussy’s clenching hard at the rough treatment, but I’m loving it. “Fuck me hard, Eric,” I pant.

He obliges, slamming into me again. “Never saw anything so fucking sexy as you, Lucky. You’re all mine. You know that, right? I’m not letting you go. Not now, not ever.”

I cry out as he continues to hammer into me and I want to agree—that I don’t want him to let me go, but I’m coming already, primed from his earlier petting. My entire body shakes, and Solo grips my hips and continues to fuck me, hard, until I feel his cock pulse, and then he’s coming inside me, and I feel warm and owned and exhausted.

He presses down on top of me, resting his sweaty skin against my body, his weight shoving against me on the desk. He’s covering me entirely, and for a moment, all is calm.

All is awesome, actually.

“Think they’ll leave me alone?” I murmur to Solo, not wanting to ruin things but I have to know.

“Pretty sure,” he says, and then slides out of me. He grabs some tissue from my brother’s desk and tries to clean me up.

I giggle, because it seems kind of ineffective. That, and I don’t mind having his come wet between my legs. Maybe that’s the perv in me again, but I love proof that I’m his.

“He’s sure as shit not going to touch you once you’re my old lady,” Solo says.

My breath catches in my throat and I sit up on the desk and look at him. “You’re making me your old lady?”

“Yes and no,” he says. He leans in and kisses my mouth. “I need to talk to Dom and Gem first.”

• • •

It’s nearly six in the morning when the Meat Locker’s finally emptied of the last partiers. It’s been a good night for the books, and an even better night once the Henchmen were escorted out of the territory. Things are quiet and I can finally relax just a little.

Gem, Dom and Kitty are still hanging around, along with a few of the patched members to make sure no one returns to start up trouble. I’ve been clinging to Solo’s arm all night, waiting for him to approach the presidents and see what they say. When Dom pulls Kitty into his lap and begins to lick at her neck while Gem watches with amusement, it seems like a good time. Solo gives my hand a squeeze and then draws me forward.

“Need to talk to you two,” Solo says. “Bout my place in the club.”

My eyes widen. Oh shit. Is Solo stepping down as a Butcher? Everyone knows they fuck and fight in twos, and he’s a party of one. He loves the club. I don’t want him to give it up for me. “Eric—”

He raises a hand, quieting me. His gaze remains locked on Gem and Dom, and he has their undivided attention now. “Here’s the thing. I need a partner if I’m going to continue on as treasurer. You know it, I know it, and I’ve put it off for long enough. And there’s only one person I trust enough to take into my bed and to help me keep things running smoothly when it comes to the books. And she can’t be a Butcher because she’s Gem’s sister.”

I gasp. Is he asking them to make me a patched member? I look over at Gem, but he’s expressionless. Dom, however, is grinning.

“Your sister does all the work of any patched member without the benefits,” Solo continues. “And no one has the club closer to her heart than her. So if you want me to have a partner, I want her.” He squeezes my hand. “And there’s another benefit. If she’s patched, ain’t nobody in the Eighty-Eight or any other group gonna fuck with her ever again. They go after her now because she’s fair game. I’m making her my old lady because I like her,” he says, and gives me a smile that says volumes more. “But I want you to patch her because she’s a Butcher through and through.”

Gem and Dom exchange a look. Dom pats Kitty’s ass and she bounds up and moves away, out of club business. I wonder for a moment if I should follow, but Solo’s got a death-grip on my hand that tells me to stay.

“Here’s the thing,” Dom says, and he rubs his chin. “If it was just me, I’d have patched Lucky years ago. We ain’t a misogynist club. Ain’t nothing wrong with having lady Butchers. Hell, I think some of the guys would be down with it if they got to fuck alongside ‘em. It’s the little sister part that’s the hairy bit.” He looked over at Gem. My brother was still neutral, still stone-faced. “Some girls are happy just to be old ladies, but Lucky’s never fit in with that crowd. And you’re right that she does a ton more for the club than a lot of our patched guys do. So we’ll put it to a vote at the next meeting and see what the others say. If they don’t like it, it doesn’t fly. If they’re good with it, we patch ourselves a pussy.”

Gem smacked Dom’s shoulder. “Watch what you say about my sister.”

Solo grins. “Thanks.” He squeezes my hand again. “I’m going to take Lucky home now.”

I give my brother a curious look as we turn to go, and to my surprise, he winks at me. A hint of a smile curves his mouth, and my heart thuds with excitement.

I’m as good as patched, now. He wouldn’t be smiling if he knew it would turn out badly. And judging from the grin on Solo’s face, he knows the same thing. The vote’s just to make the others feel included.

I suddenly feel light as air. I’m about to be a member of the Bedlam Butchers in name, not just in action. And I’m about to be Solo’s full time partner. When we head out to his bike, the sun’s rising and the weather’s gorgeous. I laugh at how beautiful the world is at the moment, and as we get to Solo’s bike, he grabs me by the waist and kisses me again.

“You happy?” he asks.

“What, you can’t tell from the grin on my face?”

“It’s not official yet—”

“But it will be,” I say, and I want to shower him with kisses. “Thank you, Solo.”

“You’ll need to get a new bike,” he says. “We’ll go shopping for one once we’re sure everything’s quiet and all clear. And you’ll have to get your shit and move in with me.”

“So you were serious about the old lady thing?” I ask him. It’s still hard to believe. Me, the unluckiest woman alive, has had her luck turn around in spectacular ways.

“Of course I was,” he tells me, and now he’s frowning. “You think I’d lie about shit like that?”

“Well, no—”

He grabs a handful of my hair and pulls my mouth toward his. “Don’t you know I’m in love with you, Lucky? Have been since I got back from Afghanistan and saw your pretty face. Gave me a reason to keep on even when I didn’t feel like it.”

“I love you, too,” I tell him softly. And I kiss him back.