Surviving Storm (Kings Reapers MC Book 7) Page 4

  I love outdoor sex—the riskier, the better—and as I lie back on the grass, watching Lottie ride me like a fucking queen, I’m happier than I’ve been in months. We’ve spent the day at the caravan sleeping and fucking. When she falls against my chest panting and sated, I run my hand up and down her back. “We have to go back,” I mutter.

  “I wish we could stay here forever,” she mumbles.

  “You and me both, butterfly, but Riggs is probably already after my balls for being gone all night and day. Not to mention Taya. She’s had Seb on her own and she’ll be pissed. Anyway, Lake will want to check on you.”

  We get back to the club and everyone is gathered in the bar. They all turn towards us as we walk in, and Lake rushes forward. “Where the fuck have you been?” he yells at Lottie. She takes a surprised step back and glances at me.

  “We took some time out,” I say. “Sorry, brother. I should have called.”

  “Called?” he repeats. “Last thing I said to you was take her fucking home!”

  “It’s my fault,” says Lottie. “I needed some headspace, and Storm was helping me out.”

  “You forget to check in, brother?” asks Riggs, glaring at me.

  “You have my phone, remember? And Lottie’s died.”

  “Even more reason to get on your damn bike and come home!” yells Lake.

  “Stop yelling,” snaps Lottie. “Christ, we’re adults. We can spend a night out if we want to.”

  Lake narrows his eyes, looking back and forth between us. “Did you fuck her?” he asks me.

  “Look, Lake—” I begin.

  “You piece of shit,” he shouts, shoving me hard. I stumble back a few steps and the other brothers rush to get between us. “I told you to stay the hell away from my sister.”

  “It ain’t like that,” I explain. I spot Taya by the bar, and she’s shaking her head with sadness in her eyes. She walks off towards the stairs. “Taya, wait,” I shout, but she ignores me.

  “Lake, you’re not my keeper,” snaps Lottie. “I can do what I like.”

  “There’s a fucking code,” he yells back. “He broke it.”

  “You all need to calm the fuck down,” says Riggs. “Break it up.”

  Cree pats Lake on the chest, leading him outside. Everyone else clears the room until it’s just me and Lottie. “Well, that went well,” she mutters.

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m sorry he yelled at you.”

  “I was expecting it. I shouldn’t have gone behind his back like that. I’d have killed anyone who did that with Taya.”

  “I’m an adult,” she snaps. “I can do what I like.”

  “A vulnerable adult. You’re Lake’s sister, and he’s responsible for you in this club.”

  She scoffs. “Vulnerable? That isn’t what you said last night or today every time you fucked me.”

  “Jesus, Lottie, watch your mouth,” I growl. “Let me sort it out with Lake. Until then, let’s take it easy. I don’t wanna rub his face in it.” She looks at me like a wounded puppy, and I sigh. “Just until I’ve spoken to him properly.”

  “Fuck you,” she mutters, then I watch her stomp off towards the stairs. Things were so much easier a few hours ago.

  Chapter Five

  LOTTIE

  It’s been two days since we got back from the caravan. I’ve avoided Storm. I can’t handle the way his eyes watch my every move, like he’s constantly hungry for me, yet he won’t touch me because of Lake.

  He can’t avoid talking to me for much longer, though, because I’m working at Vinn’s club for a trial shift tonight. I haven’t told anyone in the Kings about it, apart from Raven, and she only knows because she works for Vinn. When Lake and Storm find out about this, they’ll be raging with anger.

  I stare at myself in the mirror. I’m unrecognisable when I overdo my makeup like this, but it’s necessary for the show. Raven joins me, taking a seat next to me and staring at my reflection. “Are you nervous?”

  “A little,” I admit. “Not because of the show, just cos I know the Kings are in tonight.”

  “Sometimes I think Vinn does this shit on purpose, inviting them when he knows you’re starting a trial,” she says. “You’ll be fine. Your audition was amazing, so you’ll smash it out there.”

  I nod, smiling with a confidence I don’t quite feel. It’s not the first time I’ve danced on stage. Before I turned up here looking for Lake, it’s how I made money. Travelling around was costing a fortune, and it was a quick way to make what I needed to feed and clothe myself. I check my arms, making sure the makeup I’ve applied is covering my wounds. It’s not perfect, but from a distance, it’s hard to see the ugly marks.

  I’m next up on stage, the third act of the evening, and as my name is announced, I shake my body to loosen it up. Then I paste a wide smile on my face, saunter out onto the stage, and take a seat. The spotlight hits me, and the music begins. I part my legs, unable to see anyone because the light is shining in my face.

  The split in my red dress goes the length of my leg, revealing a glimpse of my red panties. As the thumping beat picks up, I begin to move towards the pole. The cheers get louder, and as I grip the pole and lift myself, the light dims slightly and I catch sight of Riggs and Anna. She looks positively beaming, and I hear her whistles and shouts of encouragement. I tip myself upside down, wrapping one leg around the pole and freeing my hands. My eyes connect with Storm for a brief second before I force myself to look away. He looks livid.

  The rest of my dance passes in a blur. I can’t think about anything but him and how he’ll react. When the song comes to an end, I drop back to my feet, collect my dress from the stage floor, and race off.

  “That was fucking amazing,” gushes Raven, handing me an envelope of cash. “You made a killing from just that dance.”

  Clutching the envelope to my chest, I smile awkwardly as I rush to the change rooms. I pull on my jeans and jumper, hanging the dress Vinn provided in the closet. The door crashes open, and I spin to face Storm.

  “You can’t come back here,” I mutter feebly.

  His hand goes to my throat and he gently pushes me backwards until my back hits the wall. His mouth crashes against mine in a fast, bruising kiss. He tugs at the button on my jeans until it opens, then he shoves them down my legs. Spinning me away from him, he bends me over, ripping my panties with a sharp tug. His hands dig into my hips as he enters me in one swift movement. I push my hands against the wall to steady myself as Storm slams into me over and over. He comes in minutes, roaring loud enough to let the girls in the other rooms hear us. Reaching around to my front, he rubs circles over my clit, burying his face in my neck. His heavy panting sends me over the edge, and I shudder through an intense orgasm.

  Apart from our breathing, the room falls silent. He eventually pulls out of me and tucks himself away. He grabs a box of tissues and takes a handful, wiping between my legs and throwing them in the bin. He pulls my jeans back into place, and I fasten them, turning to face him. “You got naked on stage,” he mutters, and I nod. “Don’t do that shit again,” he adds before walking out, slamming the door behind him. I stare after him in shock. I was expecting a full-on argument, but maybe that will come when I refuse to let him boss me around.

  I find Lake and Sara at the bar, and Sara hugs me. “You never said you could pole dance,” she exclaims. “Anna and I want lessons. I’m asking Riggs to install a pole at the clubhouse.” I smile, nodding. Lake’s got his back to me, and Sara smiles apologetically. “Ignore Mr. Grumpy Pants here. He’s moody.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me you needed money,” he snaps.

  “I don’t. I have a job here . . . well, hopefully.”

  “No, Charlotte. You can’t work as a stripper. No way.”

  “Lake, come on,” says Sara, sighing.

  He gets off his stool. “I said no!” he snaps, stomping off into the crowd.

  She rubs my arm. “He’ll come around. I thought you were great.”

&nb
sp; “Have you seen Storm?” I ask, looking around.

  Sara shakes her head. “You still got a thing for him?”

  “He’s waiting for Lake’s approval. I don’t think that’ll ever happen.”

  “I’ll talk to Lake,” she offers. “He’s getting used to having a little sister, but it’s taking some time.”

  “I’ve never had a brother, and it’s nice to have someone who cares, but he’s taking it too seriously. I need him to back off.”

  She nods. “Noted.”

  Vinn joins us, and Sara makes an excuse to leave us alone. He pours me a glass of wine. “I liked what you did up there,” he says. “Raven’s drawing up a contract.”

  “Contract?” I repeat. Usually, things aren’t so formal.

  “I like to do things properly. I can offer three nights a week. Any extras are forbidden, but you can dance in private rooms. You decide to give extras, that’s your business, but if you get caught, it’s an instant dismissal.” He slides a business card across the bar. “That’s my number if you—”

  Storm’s hand slams down on top of the card before I can take it, and Vinn smirks. “She don’t need it. Just like she don’t need your job.”

  “Storm,” I hiss, feeling my cheeks redden with embarrassment.

  “You sure about that, biker?” asks Vinn. “She approached me.”

  “Yes, I want the job. Storm, stop,” I snap.

  “You’re not fucking stripping for other men like some kinda whore, Lottie. It’s not happening.”

  I stand on wobbly legs, rage rushing through me. “You are not my boss,” I growl. “I can make my own decisions and there is nothing wrong with my job choice.”

  “Me or the job, that’s your choice,” he hisses, holding up Vinn’s business card.

  I glance at Vinn, who looks like he’s enjoying the altercation. I swallow the lump in my throat before plucking the card from his fingers. “I’ll be in touch about my hours, Vinn. Thank you.” I turn on my heel and head for the exit.

  It’s late, but Bently was whining and wouldn’t settle, which is why I’m walking around the club grounds wrapped in one of the guys’ oversized jumpers I found on the back of the couch in the main room. It smells like Storm’s aftershave, and I bury my nose into the material as I round the back of the clubhouse.

  I yelp when hands pull my arms behind my back and I’m pressed against the wall. “You don’t get it,” hisses Storm, and I sag in relief. “I can’t just walk away from you now.” He lifts the jumper and pushes his erect cock into me.

  “Storm, you can’t keep fucking me against walls, then yelling at me and stomping off.”

  “I can’t keep away from you,” he pants.

  I smell the whiskey on his breath and frown. “You’ve been drinking,” I say.

  He clamps a hand over my mouth and quickens his pace. “Less talking.” This time, he comes and pulls out, not bothering to take care of me. Not that I need it—I’ve had my share of orgasms tonight.

  “Why have you been drinking?” I ask quietly.

  He shrugs, staring down at the ground. “I only had a couple.”

  “Are you meant to have a couple?” He’s not exactly said he’s a raging alcoholic, but he gives me the impression he shouldn’t drink.

  “My head’s all over,” he mutters.

  “Why are you making it difficult? We like each other, don’t we?” I ask, and he nods. “Then let’s give it a go.”

  “I can’t sit back knowing other men are watching you dance like that. You’re mine. My broken butterfly. I can’t have them wanking over you, looking at you.”

  “It’s just a job. I like dancing. I won’t do private dances. I won’t let anyone touch me and I won’t interact with customers up close. I’ll dance, I’ll get my money, and I’ll come home. I’d like to come home to you.”

  He stares at me with hope in his eyes. “I’m a mess,” he says. “I don’t know if I can be the man you need.”

  I take his hand. “Let’s be a mess together.”

  STORM

  I’ve woken with a hangover every day since I started drinking that night in the caravan. Taya eyes me across the breakfast table as I push the bacon around my plate.

  “We need to look at a school for Seb today,” she says. “He’s missed too much.” I nod, not bothering to look up. “I’ve rang three schools.”

  “Can’t you go and choose?” I ask.

  “No, I’m not his mum. Maybe if you weren’t hungover, you’d be more enthusiastic,” she snaps sarcastically.

  “Get off my fucking back, Tay,” I snap. “You’re like a nagging wife.”

  “We need to have a conversation sooner rather than later,” she says. “I can’t take much more of this.”

  I push my chair back and lean towards her. “Then fucking go,” I yell. “If you can’t support me, then just go.”

  A look of hurt flashes over her face. “Maybe I will.” She rushes from the room, and I groan, sitting down and burying my face in my hands. I have to get my shit together. I can’t look after Seb without her. Since his diagnosis of autism, I’ve not been able to cope. His hour-long meltdowns and obsession with bikes drive me nuts. I was never good with him, not like his mum was. Her face appears in my head again, and I close my eyes. Some days, when she appears like this, so clear, I feel like I can reach out and grab her. She’s wearing the floppy straw hat I brought her the last summer we had together. A light touch on my arm brings me crashing back into the room, and I scowl at Lottie. “You okay?” she asks.

  I nod, getting up. “I’ve got some shit to do. I’ll see you tonight.” I kiss her on the head and leave. I need a cold shower to get me out of this mood.

  “We have a sensory room,” says the head teacher, opening a door. Seb claps in delight and rushes inside. Taya joins him, leaving me alone with this woman, and I smile awkwardly. “Any questions?” she asks, but I shake my head. It looks the same as the last two schools we looked at. “We have some other children here from your club,” she says with a smile. “They’re doing very well, and Seb would be in their class.”

  “Right. Let’s sign him up then,” I mutter.

  After, as we head to the car, Seb slips his hand into mine. I glance at Taya, who looks just as shocked as me. It’s not like we don’t touch. He lets me pick him up and carry him when needed, although these days, he’s a little old for that. But he hasn’t held my hand in a long time. “Malia comes here?” he asks, and I nod. He smiles. “Good.”

  “I think he’s like you when it comes to women,” whispers Taya on the drive home. I give her a side glance. “Obsessed.”

  “I don’t get obsessed,” I say. “I get serious.”

  “Same thing,” she says. “I’ve seen how he gets with Malia. He doesn’t like Ziggy around her.”

  “Kid’s obsessed with all kinds of shit,” I say. “It’ll pass.”

  “I’m sorry for earlier. I’m just worried.” She looks up at me through her eyelashes, just like she did as a kid, and my heart melts.

  I take her hand in mine and squeeze it. “I’m gonna be okay,” I say. “I promise. I know I don’t say it enough, but I appreciate everything you do for me and Seb. We’d be lost without you.”

  Chapter Six

  LOTTIE

  I haven’t seen Storm all day. I climb into bed and fall into a deep sleep, only waking when the bed dips and I smell his aftershave. He doesn’t waste any time burying himself inside me until I’m crying out into my pillow. When he’s finished, he wraps himself around me and his light snores fill the room. I feel disappointed. All we seem to do is fuck. I wanted to talk with him about last night and about my job choice, but he doesn’t seem too keen on talking lately.

  It’s still dark outside when he enters me again. I don’t have the energy to argue, so when he falls asleep straight after again, I get up and shower. It’s almost six a.m. and Bently needs a walk.

  When I return, Storm is awake and showered. “I thought we could go job hun
ting today,” he says brightly.

  “You need a job?” I ask.

  “For you,” he says, chuckling. He heads out the room and downstairs with me hot on his heels. Looks like we’re having that conversation after all.

  “Storm, I have a job.”

  The breakfast table is full, and I regret starting this right before we joined them. “We talked about it, and you’re not working in some damn strip club.”

  The chatter dies down a little, and I feel myself blush. Lake watches us closely. “I’m a dancer, it’s what I do.”

  “Not anymore,” says Storm. “No ol’ lady of mine is getting her tits out for other men to look at.” There’s a few audible gasps from the women in the room.

  “At last, someone talking sense,” mumbles Lake.

  “Please, don’t you start,” I mutter.

  “Have some respect for yourself and for me. What will people say if I let you strip?” snaps Storm.

  “They’ll think you’re a lucky son of a bitch,” says Leia.

  “You want money?” he adds, completely ignoring Leia. “I can give you whatever you need.” He pulls out his wallet and dumps a wad of cash in front of me.

  My face reddens further. “I don’t want your money,” I state.

  “And I don’t want you to strip.”

  “We’ll talk about it later,” I say firmly.

  “My mind won’t change.”

  Everyone is now paying attention to our argument, and I feel more and more embarrassed and insulted by the second. I slide the money back to him. “Then we can’t be together,” I say, “if you can’t accept my decision.”