Page 7 of Arch (Wolf Rider MC Daddies #3)

Arch

I can’t believe the boy ran like that.

Well, I say that but…

Keegan’s a wildfire I can’t control, and it’s burning me up from the inside. Pinning him against the clubhouse wall, spanking his bare ass while the men watched, his voice breaking as he counted each strike—it’s seared into me already.

The way he whispered “Daddy,” surrendering for just a moment before his pride kicked in and he stormed off, it’s got me questioning everything.

I’m forty-three, the Wolf Riders’ strategist, the one who keeps this club alive, but Keegan’s got me second-guessing my own moves. He’s reckless, a liability, but I want him—body, soul, and that defiant spark that makes him impossible to tame.

He wanted to submit fully. I know he did. But the boy’s got a spirit that just won’t quit, won’t allow him to drop his guard fully. Some bad shit went down in the army, I’m sure of it. Certainly bad enough to bring an already rebellious streak to the fore.

Keegan’s got so much potential, and I know I could be the Daddy to bring it out of him. But he needs to trust me, and that trust needs to happen fast…

I’m in the clubhouse now, the tension high.

The Vipers’ ambush on the Route 17 shipment was a wake-up call—they’re not just testing us anymore. They’re gunning for our territory.

The Vipers have clashed with us numerous times in the past, but this one feels different. I know they’ve had a restructuring in their hierarchy, and it seems like the new men in charge are hell bent on making their big play.

And I have to be ready for it.

Clay called a meeting to plan a counterstrike, and the boys are restless, their voices a rumble of anger and half-baked plans.

I’m at the head of the table, the snarling wolf emblem under my elbows, but my mind’s not on the Vipers.

It’s on Keegan, on the way his green eyes burned with defiance and want, on the feel of his juicy ass under my hands.

“Arch, you with us?” Clay’s voice cuts through my haze, his brow furrowed.

I turn and see that Clay is leaning forward, his arm around Dylan, who’s watching me with a curious tilt of his head.

“Yeah,” I grunt, forcing my focus back. “Vipers hit us from the west, not the east like we expected. They’re getting bold, and they’ve got someone feeding them intel or they wouldn’t have known our route.

This shit doesn’t happen by chance. The Vipers aren’t tactical geniuses.

Someone is feeding them this intel. We need to hit back, but smart.

No bar fights, no bloodbaths. We find their supply line and choke it. ”

Tank nods, his massive frame taking up half the table.

“Route 17’s their hub,” Tank says. “We could scout it, plant a tracker, see where their shit’s coming from.”

“Good,” I say, but my voice is flat, my thoughts drifting to Keegan’s red ass, the way he gasped under my grip.

I shake it off, but it’s like trying to shake off a fever.

“Jinx, you and Razor take a crew tonight. No engagement, just eyes. We need to know who’s bankrolling them. Find the money, find the problem.”

Jinx fidgets, his tattoos shifting as he nods.

“Got it, Arch. But what about the kid? Keegan?” Jinx asks. “He pulled through, fought hard. But he he went rogue. You trust him on this?”

The question hits like a punch.

Do I trust Keegan?

He saved the shipment, no question, but he broke ranks, acted on instinct instead of orders.

That’s the problem—he’s all instinct, no discipline, and in a war with the Vipers, that could get us all killed.

But I see him, that wildfire in the boy’s eyes, and I want to shape it, not snuff it out.

“He’s not on this,” I say, harsher than I mean to. “The boy’s not ready.”

Clay’s eyes narrow, catching something in my tone.

Jace, sitting beside Caleb, leans forward, his voice low.

“You sure that’s it, Arch?” Jace questions. “You’ve been off since that kid showed up. He’s got you rattled.”

I glare at Jace, but he’s not wrong. Jace and Clay are my guys, we’ve been through thick and thin together. I’m not about to lie to his face, especially when the clubs future is at stake.

Keegan’s under my skin, and it’s throwing my game.

I’ve outsmarted feds, dodged raids, kept this club whole for years, but one twenty-two-year-old hothead has me losing focus.

But just as I’m about to open up, I realize that I’ve got the whole club around me, all listening just like they always do.

“I’m fine,” I snap. “Let’s stick to the plan.”

But as we hash out details—routes, timings, contingencies—my mind keeps slipping. I see Keegan’s smirk, hear his taunting “Daddy,” feel the heat of his body pressed against me.

I’m supposed to be the strategic king, the one who never falters, but he’s making me question everything.

What if he bolts?

What if he can’t handle the MC life?

What if I’m pushing him too hard—or not hard enough?

Clay slams his fist on the table, pulling me back.

“Alright, enough,” Clay says, his voice cutting through the chatter. “Arch, you’re not here. Me and Jace got this. Go find your boy, work this shit out before it’s too late.”

I blink, caught off guard.

“Clay, I’m?—”

“ Don’t ,” Clay interrupts, a grin breaking through his stern look. “You owe me a double date when this is sorted, you hear? Me, Dylan, you, and that firecracker of yours.”

Jace chuckles, nudging Caleb.

“You mean a triple date,” Jace laughs. “Don’t leave us out.”

I manage a wry smile, the weight on my chest easing just a fraction.

“Thanks,” I say, meaning it.

Clay and Jace have my back, always have, and they see what I won’t admit… Keegan’s not just a prospect, he’s mine, or he could be, if I don’t fuck this up.

I grab my jacket and head out, the clubhouse noise fading behind me as I swing onto my Harley…

I know where to find the boy.

The Ring’s too obvious, too close to the clubhouse where he’d have to face me. There’s another spot, a dive bar on the edge of Willow Creek called Rusty’s, where the locals don’t ask questions and the whiskey’s cheaper than water.

I gun the engine, the roar drowning out my doubts, and ride through the dark streets, the neon signs flickering like ghosts.

The bar is a dump, the kind of place where the floor sticks and the jukebox skips.

I spot Keegan the second I walk in, slouched at the bar, a half-empty bottle of Jack in front of him.

He’s a little tipsy, his dark hair falling into his face, his green eyes glassy but still burning with that defiant spark.

A couple of locals are eyeing him, probably thinking they can take advantage, but one look at my Wolf Rider patch and they back off.

“Keegan,” I say, my voice low, cutting through the bar’s haze.

The boy looks up, his smirk sloppy but sharp.

“Well, look who it is,” Keegan sasses, raising his glass. “Daddy’s here to save the day again.”

“You’re done,” I say, grabbing the bottle and shoving it at the bartender. “Get up. We’re leaving.”

Keegan laughs, sharp and bitter.

“What, you gonna drag me out?” Keegan mocks. “I’m not your fucking boy, Arch. I don’t take orders.”

I lean in, close enough to smell the whiskey on his breath, and grab his arm, hauling him off the stool.

“You’re coming with me, boy, whether you like it or not,” I growl.

He stumbles, but I’m strong enough to hold his weight. I drag him outside, the gravel crunching under our boots, and shove him toward my bike.

“Get on, or I’ll tie you to the damn thing,” I bark.

Keegan glares, but there’s a flicker of something else—want, maybe, or just exhaustion.

He swings onto the bike, his hands tight on my waist, and I ride us to my place, a small house on the outskirts, away from the clubhouse’s chaos.

It’s not much, but it’s mine, and it’s private enough for what’s coming…

Inside, I push him against the wall, my patience gone.

“What the hell’s your problem, Keegan?” I growl, my hands on his shoulders, pinning him.

“You saved the shipment, yeah, but you ran off like a kid throwing a tantrum. You got spanked. The men saw. Happens all the time. And you know what, I think you liked it too. So… you think you can handle the Wolf Riders? Handle me? Then stop acting like a brat.”

His eyes blaze, the drunken haze burning off under his anger.

“Maybe I don’t want to handle you,” Keegan spits, shoving at my chest. “You think you can spank me, order me around, and I’ll just fall in line? I’m not Dylan or Caleb. I don’t do submission.”

“You did last night,” I say, my voice low, dangerous, stepping closer until our chests brush. “You counted every strike, called me Daddy, and you fucking loved it. Don’t lie to me, boy.”

Keggan’s breath hitches, his face flushing, and I feel it—the heat between us, the same fire from the safehouse.

He’s fighting it, fighting me, but his body betrays him, leaning into my grip.

“Fuck you,” he mutters, but there’s no venom, just raw need. “Now make me yours, Daddy…”

I don’t need asking twice. Keegan may have had a couple of beers, but there’s no doubting how enthusiastically he wants this.

With a flurry of activity, we’re both naked and tumbling around my place, working our way toward the bedroom as our hands grip, grab, and squeeze their way around one another’s bodies.

“Protection?” I ask, looking over toward my cupboard.

“I’m cool without if you are,” Keegan says, breathless. “I’m clean. And I trust you.”

The time for talking is over. I pick Keegan up by his waist and toss him onto the bed, his lithe and strong body landing on the mattress, his hard cock slapping onto his stomach.

“Fuck me,” Keegan says, immediately turning onto all fours and spreading his ass cheeks for me.

“I think you’ve forgotten who the Daddy is,” I reply. “We’re going to do this my way.”

With that, I lie on the bed and watch as Keegan squats over me.

“Turn around and lube that tight ass for Daddy,” I say, watching as Keegan reaches for the lube in the cupboard. “I want to see you work those fingers in, prepare yourself for me.”

“Yes, Daddy,” Keegan replies, his fingers already sticky with lube as he spreads and begins to massage them over his small, pink ass hole. “Like this?”

“Exactly like that,” I growl, my hands on my cock, working it, taking great pleasure in how willing Keegan is to follow my lead without question. “Enough. Now sit on my cock.”

Keegan tentatively hovers over my cock as I hold it upright, the feeling of his lubed ass easing itself onto my thick, throbbing dick head making me smile with a look of the purest, most wicked lust on my face.

“Now, sit!” I command, taking matters into my own hands and easing the boy all the way down. “Bounce for Daddy. Make me cum. Show me what a bad boy you truly are.”

It’s not long before Keegan is moaning in ecstasy as he bounces on my cock, his lean body working hard to keep balance with a little assistance from me.

And as I feel my cock erupt and shoot wave after wave of my seed deep inside the boy, I see Keegan’s hard cock spurt and shoot up in the air and all over his toned, rippled chest and stomach.

“Daddy, that was… fuck… that was…” Keegan says, barely able to finish his sentence as he rides out the last drops of my cum and hauls himself off my dick and flops onto the bed next to me.

“I know, boy, I know,” I reply.

After, we’re both breathing hard, the air thick with the scent of sweat and sex. I pull back, my chest heaving, and fix him with a hard stare.

That was superb. But I can’t let it get in the way of the fact that the Wolf Riders might be in a war right now. I have to keep my mind on the game at hand…

“This doesn’t change anything,” I say, my voice rough but firm. “That was a one-time thing, Keegan. You want more, you commit —to the Wolf Riders, to me. No half-measures.”

The boy’s sprawled on the bed next to me, his hair a mess, his eyes still dark with want but clouded with doubt. “

You’re a real piece of work, Arch,” Keegan says, a laugh escaping. “You make me want to stay, have me ride you like a stallion, then tell me it’s not enough.”

The boy’s got a way with words, I’ll give him that.

Before I can respond, my phone buzzes. It’s Clay, his message short and brutal…

CLAY: Got a problem. Confirmed—someone’s leaking to the Vipers. Traitor in the MC. We’re digging. Whoever it is, they better realize that this is the end for their sorry existence once we catch up with them.

My gut twists, the words hitting like a sucker punch.

A traitor?

After all these years, the loyalty I’ve bled for, someone’s selling us out? I

t shakes me, makes me question the system I’ve been pushing on Keegan—the same damn system I’ve built my life on.

I show him the message, my jaw tight.

“This is the life, Keegan,” I say, feeling deflated. “Trust is everything, and now it’s cracked. You still think you can handle it?”

Keegan reads it, his expression shifting—not to fear, but to something steadier.

“One bad apple doesn’t mean the whole tree’s rotten,” Keegan says, his voice quiet but sure. “The Wolf Riders are still a family. You, Clay, Jace—you’re worth fighting for.”

I stare at him, caught off guard.

This kid, this reckless wildfire, is seeing something I’m too shaken to see.

The boy’s words ground me, and for the first time, I feel like he’s not just a challenge but a partner.

“Thanks,” I say, my voice softer than I mean it to be. “But now it’s time to show you why I’m the strategic mastermind of this club.”

Keegan smirks, that spark back in his eyes.

“Bring it on, Daddy,” Keegan says, excitement in his voice. “Bring it on!”

I lean back, my mind already spinning, mapping out moves to smoke out the traitor and crush the Vipers.

Keegan’s with me, for now, and I’m not letting him slip away.

I’ve got a war to win, a traitor to expose, and a boy to tame… and I’m ready for it all.