Page 1 of Atlas (The Chaos Demons MC #6)

Atlas

I sigh heavily and roll onto my side, watching as Nita dresses. “Are you coming back later?” I ask.

“What for?” She straightens the skirt I’d pushed up round her waist.

“Axel’s barbecue,” I remind her, though I know she knows. It’s all the old ladies have talked about all week.

“It’s a club thing,” she says with a shrug as she slips her suit jacket on.

I eye her as she picks up her handbag and searches through it. “You’re part of this club.”

She smirks, arching a brow in my direction. “We’ve talked about this.” She holds up a small mirror from her bag and reapplies her lipstick.

“I hate that colour on you,” I mutter, and she laughs.

“You think I don’t know that?” She rubs her lips together and drops the stick back into her bag, clipping it closed. “I wear it for that reason.”

“The other old ladies will want you there,” I try. Rolling onto my back, I place my hands behind my head. “You’re practically one of them.”

“Atlas,” she says on a sigh, “do we have to do this every time we hook up?” She rounds the bed to where I lay and stares down at me. “It works like this. Why change what works?”

“It’ll still work when you’re my old lady.”

She grins, leaning down so her lips are almost touching mine. “I have to get to work.”

“What’s new?” I mutter, staring up at the ceiling.

“Don’t be like that.” Her lips brush mine. “I had a great lunch,” she whispers, smiling.

I will myself to stay strong, but when her tongue sweeps into my mouth, I groan out loud and pull her down over me.

She laughs harder as I roll and brace myself above her.

“You’re impossible,” I murmur, slamming my mouth over hers in a bruising kiss.

My cock instantly reacts to her . . . again.

She sighs softly, running her fingers through my hair.

“I’d love to stay for another round, but I really need to go.”

I could keep her here, she’s usually easily swayed, but her work is important to her, and I know she’ll be pissed if I keep her any longer. I drop face down beside her and rest my head on my arms. “Fine. Go.”

“Enjoy the barbecue.” I want to retort that it’s impossible because she won’t be there, but I remain quiet. The pushier I get, the further she runs. “And go for Cali. I think she likes you.”

I bristle at her encouragement to fuck a club whore.

I can never work out if she’s being serious, in which case, it means she doesn’t give a shit about me or us .

Or if she says this crap to guard her heart.

Maybe reassuring me it’s okay to fuck around means she’ll handle it better if I do.

But it doesn’t matter how much I prove myself—she still keeps me at arm’s length, like she’s just waiting for me to prove her right.

“I’m not gonna go,” I say, pushing up from the bed.

She pauses in the doorway, chewing on the inside of her cheek thoughtfully as her eyes run over my naked body. “Why?”

“I’m gonna grab some food and chill up here.”

“It’s your President’s birthday, you have to be there.”

I grab a shirt and pull it on. “All Axel will be thinking about is getting Lexi alone,” I say with a smirk.

“Have a good afternoon at work.” I pull my jeans on.

“Text me when you get home tonight.” It’s the same request I always make because she refuses to let me take her home. An independent pain in my ass.

“It’ll be a late one,” she says casually.

It has the desired effect because I immediately look her in the eye. “Oh yeah?” I ask, my mind racing with thoughts about what she might be doing to keep her out late. “Well, I can always swing by and pick you up?”

“I’m a big girl.” And she spins on her heel and heads out.

I groan out loud in frustration. We’ve been doing this hook-up dance for almost a year, and I’m as close now as the day I first put my dick in her. She tells me fuck all about her life, her past, even her family remain a mystery.

I put my boots on and head downstairs. Axel glances up from his desk. “Was that Anita I saw leaving?” I nod, stuffing my hands in my pockets and leaning in the doorway. “You good?” he adds, frowning.

“You ready for your party?” I ask, ignoring his question.

He rolls his eyes. “About as ready as a lamb is to slaughter.”

I grin. “It won’t be so bad.”

“Lexi is currently hanging banners out there.”

I laugh out loud, knowing how much he hates a fuss. “It makes her happy.”

“That’s the only reason I’m going along with this bullshit.”

Grizz heads over. “Is he still complaining?”

“Nah, he’s secretly excited.”

“If she pulls out a birthday cake with candles, I’m done,” Axel says firmly.

“Shit, Pres, she put loads of effort into that cake,” Grizz whispers with a smirk. “She had a job getting all those candles on it though.”

“Clearly, you two have nothing better to do,” he states, pushing a piece of paper across his desk towards us. “Go and check out this place. It’s a potential for more storage.”

I grab it, glancing at the address. “We need more?”

“I’ll explain in church tomorrow,” he replies, going back to his laptop. “Get out of here before the old ladies sniff you out and force you to blow up balloons or some shit.”

I get off my bike and stare at the old warehouse. Grizz joins me, lifting his sunglasses. “Not very discreet,” he comments. “And anyone driving past will see the entrance.”

I glance around, nodding in agreement. “But hiding in plain sight sometimes works.”

“I don’t think we can afford to take that risk. Gemma reckons we’re being watched by a task force.”

“When are we not being watched by the police?” I ask, laughing.

“I saw Nita leaving earlier. Just a lunch call?” He smirks, heading towards the building.

I follow. “She’s busy with work.”

“She always is, brother. You just gotta pin her down and get your name on her skin.”

I laugh. “I’m sure that’ll go down well.”

“I’m serious, brother. How long’s she been dragging you along for?”

I shrug. “A year or so.”

“Fuck, man. You have the patience of a saint. You gotta lock that shit down.”

“It’s not that easy,” I mutter. “She’s got shit going on that she don’t wanna share with me, and if I push, she locks up completely.”

“So, how long are you gonna let it go on?” he asks, pushing the door.

We go inside. The place is huge but not ideal. There’s another entrance at the back, but it’s insecure. “As long as she needs, brother,” I say confidently, because I intend to stick it out for her. She’s it for me.

Anita

“What do you mean you’re not coming?” Tessa demands. I sign the document she presented me with and slide it back across the desk.

“In case you’ve forgotten, I’m not his old lady.”

“You’re practically his old lady,” she scoffs, taking the document.

“Why is everyone so obsessed with me and Atlas?” I’m being defensive, but I’m so tired of everyone treating me like his wife. “We’re not together. I don’t know why everyone struggles with that.”

“Because you’re meant to be,” she says with sad eyes. “He’s your king, and you’re his queen.” I arch a brow, and she begins to back out the room. “You’re his lobster.”

“Get out,” I say firmly, “and don’t interrupt me unless it’s urgent.”

“This is urgent,” she argues. “You realise that one day, he’ll meet someone, and you’ll miss your chance.”

I smile wide. “I can only pray for that day to come.”

“Liar,” she hisses, narrowing her eyes. “Where will you get your daily dose of D from?”

I laugh. “I’m not short on offers.”

She shakes her head. “Don’t let him hear you say that.”

“Atlas doesn’t care,” I cry, throwing my arms in the air. “We’re both happy hooking up. Now, drop it.”

At four exactly, Tessa pops her head back into my office. “I’m heading off.” I nod. “Are you sure I can’t change your mind? The girls would love to see you.”

“I have a date,” I say, and she gives me that sad look again. I close my laptop as the door opens, and I stare past her to see my date. I grin, stuffing the laptop away and grabbing my bag.

“An early date,” Tessa mutters as I pass her.

“You found the place okay then,” I say, ignoring her.

Jonathon is exactly as he described himself on the dating app, which is a rarity. I’ve met so many men who have lied about their age, their body, and even their relationship status.

“I did.” He smiles and his white teeth gleam. Then he leans down to place a quick kiss on my cheek. “It’s great to finally meet you.”

I lock up and say goodbye to Tessa, who is judging me, but I’ll address it tomorrow.

We head to a bar at the end of the road. The bar workers know me here, so I always opt for this place in case anything goes wrong. You can never be too careful with dating apps.

“You’re a lawyer,” he says, shrugging from his jacket and placing it on the back of the chair. “Impressive.”

I scoff, waving my hand dismissively. “I hate putting it on my profile because I tend to draw out all the criminals,” I say with a laugh.

“Sometimes I prefer not to know,” he admits, wincing. “At the risk of sounding like a pompous prick, certain jobs put me off. Can I get you a drink?”

I nod. “Just a lemonade.”

He heads over to the bar, and I use it as an excuse to check out his tight backside. He’s wearing a suit, which gives me hope he’s got a good career. He rejoins me, this time taking his seat as he passes me the lemonade. “What jobs put you off?” I ask.

“Dog groomer,” he announces, screwing up his face as I laugh. “The hair, the smell,” he shakes his head, “I can’t deal with that. Also, doctor or nurse, anything medical related.” I arch a brow, and he leans closer. “Too busy. I need someone who’ll have time for me.”

“What do you do?” I ask, sipping my drink.

“Businessman,” he says with a glint in his eye.

I scoff. “That covers a variety of things.”

He grins, taking another sip of his drink. “Nothing shady, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“I’ve been doing this way too long,” I say, running my finger around the rim of my glass. “And I’ll be honest, I get a warning sign flashing in my head when you talk.”

He laughs, nodding. “Honesty, I like that.” His attention is drawn to a buzzing in his suit jacket and he sighs, retrieving it and glancing at the screen. He places it back in his pocket, letting it ring out. It immediately rings a second time, and he gives an apologetic smile.

“You can get that if it’s important,” I say.

“It’s nothing that can’t wait.”

When it rings a third time, he seems agitated, and my suspicions grow. It’s a sixth sense I get when it comes to men. “Take the call,” I say firmly.

“Really, it can wait.”

“I insist.” He eyes me for a second, warring with himself before taking the phone out again and pushing to stand.

“Oh, please, take it here.” He gives me another unsure glance, and I smile wide, nodding .

. . daring him to answer. When he continues to hesitate, I roll my eyes and push to stand.

“I can only assume that your reluctance to answer is because on the other end of that call is a long-suffering girlfriend . . .” I pause, gaging his reaction, and when his eyes dart to the phone, I laugh.

“Wife . . . a long-suffering wife.” This time, his eyes stare at the floor, and I grab my bag. “Pathetic.”

“Listen, it’s not what it looks—”

“If you’re about to tell me she’s awful to you and doesn’t understand, save it.

” He presses his lips closed. “If she nags . . . if she doesn’t give out .

. . then you’re doing something wrong. You are the problem.

Because a woman who’s treated right, she takes care of her man.

I suggest you go home and get to the bottom of what you’re doing wrong.

” I take a step then turn back. “And start with taking your profile off the dating apps.”

I dump my bag on the bar and slide onto the tall seat. “Another married one?” asks Claire, the barmaid, sliding a vodka my way. I nod, knocking it back and holding it out for a refill. “Bastard.”

“I’m seriously thinking of dropping out of the dating game,” I mutter, tapping my debit card to the card machine.

“Or you could just give in to the biker,” she suggests, wiggling her brows.

I roll my eyes. “Not you as well. Me and Atlas aren’t gonna happen. It’s just fun.”