Page 22 of Atlas (The Chaos Demons MC #6)

She hesitates for just a beat more, then climbs on behind me, legs awkward, body stiff. I feel her arms wrap around my waist, tentative at first, then tighter when I rev the engine. I reach back, my fingers sliding behind her knees as I drag her closer. “Hold on tight.”

And then we’re off.

The bike roars beneath us, and I can feel every inch of her pressed to my back. She’s tense at first. But as we roll through the streets, I feel the shift in her. The way her grip loosens, just a little. The way her body starts to move with the curves, instead of bracing against them.

I don’t take her far. Just enough to give her the thrill without pushing it. I keep it smooth, easy. Not because I’m soft, but because it’s her . And somehow, that changes everything.

When we slow to a stop overlooking the edge of the city, I kill the engine and glance over my shoulder. Rue’s eyes are wide, as she pushes her visor up.

I take off my helmet and hook it on the handlebars. “Well?” I ask.

She takes off the helmet, blinking like she can’t quite believe it. “Well I didn’t die.”

I laugh, twisting round and lifting her around the waist, placing her on my lap so she’s straddling me. I hang her legs over my thighs. “That’s usually how it goes.” I take her helmet and hook it on the other side.

“It was . . . thrilling,” she says on a breathy sigh. “Freeing.”

“Careful,” I murmur, cupping her jaw. “You’re sounding dangerously close to a biker’s girl.”

She scoffs, but she’s smiling now. Bright and full and just for me. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

“Too late,” I whisper, before claiming her mouth. I’m already gone for her.

“I want to go again,” she whispers, a little breathless, her smile addictive.

Fuck. She liked it and it’s making me hard for her.

“You sure?” I murmur, curling my hand around her waist. My thumb slips under the hem of her tee, finding the warmth of her bare skin. “You looked pretty terrified back there.”

“I was.” She leans in closer. “And I enjoyed it.”

Jesus. Her voice is low, almost teasing, and I don’t think she has a clue what she’s doing to me. Or maybe she does.

“You feel that?” I ask, pressing her tighter to me. There’s no hiding the hard line of my cock through my jeans. “That’s what you do to me, Rue.”

Her breath catches, but she doesn’t pull away. Her hips shift slightly, enough to make my jaw clench.

She dips her head and presses her lips to mine, soft, then firmer. I grip her hips and hold her there, her body flush to mine, the heat between us like a lit fuse.

The kiss turns messy, deeper. Her fingers twist into my kutte, anchoring herself as she moves against me, and I can feel her heart pounding in sync with mine. Everything else disappears, the road, the noise, the club, Anita . It’s just her. Just us .

“You’re dangerous,” she breathes, her lips brushing my jaw as she kisses down my neck.

I grip her tighter, dragging her against my hard length. “You have no idea.”

Her laugh is soft, and fuck, it’s the best sound I’ve ever heard. Then she rocks her hips again, and I swear I nearly lose it right there.

“Rue,” I growl, my fingers digging into her thighs. “We keep doing this, I’m gonna take you right here on this damn bike.”

She nips my bottom lip, eyes blazing. “Please.”

Holy fuck .

I don’t know if she’s teasing or testing me, but it doesn’t matter. I’m two seconds from lifting her tee and finding out just how far she wants to go.

I press my forehead to hers, forcing myself to breathe. “You keep making moves like that, baby, and you’re not gonna be able to walk.”

Her mouth curves, wicked and sweet all at once. “Good thing I like the bike, then.”

She leans her hands back behind her, watching, waiting.

I bite on my lower lip, taking in her beauty as I trail my fingers over her stomach.

Her t-shirt lifts with the movement until my fingers graze under her breasts.

No bra. My cock twitches and she smirks, knowing she’s got me right where she wants me.

I lift it higher, and her nipples pucker as the evening air surrounds us.

Her eyes are burning with heat as I lower my mouth to her nipple, gasping as I graze it with my teeth then suck it into my mouth.

I swirl my tongue around the sensitive bud before moving to the other.

She’s panting now, her head relaxed back and her body squirming with anticipation.

I run my hands up her thighs, her skirt giving me easy access. I hook my fingers in her thong and drag it down her legs. She lifts her hips so I can strip it off, and I stuff the lace into my pocket with a smirk.

She plants her feet on my knees and parts her legs, grinning.

Fuck, I love how confident she’s become with me.

I drag my thumb through her slick folds, and she bucks against the touch, a moan breaking from her throat. I press to her swollen clit, rubbing slow, teasing circles. Her hand cups my cheek, then slides behind my head, tugging me down to her nipple.

My phone rings, sharp and unwelcome. I glance towards the sound, but Rue shakes her head, breathless.

“If you stop now, I might combust.”

I laugh, sucking her nipple into my mouth as I work her faster. Her body arches, trembling. I pop the button on my jeans, freeing my cock. She’s already reaching into my back pocket, pulling out my wallet and handing me a condom without breaking eye contact.

I sheath myself and pull her closer. She lifts her hips, and I guide myself to her entrance, her thighs trembling against mine.

My phone rings again, right as she pushes down on me, slow and tight. I groan, gripping her hips as she rocks against me. Fuck. She feels better every time.

I straighten the bike, knocking our helmets to the floor, but I don’t give a shit.

“Let’s try something,” I say on a groan, starting the engine. The bike roars to life beneath us, a sharp jolt of power thrumming through her.

“Sit on the seat,” I tell her, shuffling back and guiding her off me. She does, settling onto the leather, her eyes wide, cheeks flushed.

I rev the engine. She gasps, eyes fluttering closed as the vibration pulses through her.

I rev again, watching as she begins to rock, grinding against the seat, shameless and fucking beautiful.

I reach for her breast, tugging her nipple as I hold the revs longer. She shudders, chin dropping to her chest, her movements uncoordinated and raw as she chases the high.

I watch her come apart, her slick smeared on the seat, on my bike, and it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.

I kill the engine and pull her back onto my lap, guiding myself back inside her. She cries out, hands clinging to my shoulders as she rides me hard.

I stand, keeping her wrapped around me as I swing my leg off the bike. I glance back at the mark she’s left on the seat.

Mine.

I pull out and turn her around to face the bike. She braces herself on the leather, backside high, waiting for me. I bend her over, line myself up, and before I thrust in, I murmur, “Taste yourself.”

She bites her lower lip, throwing a dark look over her shoulder. Then she lowers herself, tongue darting out as she licks her own wetness from the seat.

I growl, deep and guttural, and slam into her, gripping her hips, fucking her hard, claiming her all over again.

Rue

My legs are jelly, my body is humming, and my cheeks ache from smiling.

Atlas wraps me up in his arms, pulling me against his chest as we sit together on the bike, looking out over the glittering skyline. It’s quiet now, except for the distant hum of city life and the steady beat of his heart beneath my cheek.

His hand strokes slow circles on my bare thigh, and I melt into him. Safe . Completely undone and somehow more whole at the same time.

I love this version of me, brave, bike riding, daring and chasing pleasure like it’s something I’m owed. He brings out something in me without even trying.

“I’m not scared of the bike anymore,” I murmur, tilting my face up towards his.

He chuckles, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “You shouldn’t be. You were made for it.”

I smile, eyes flicking to the skyline, the deep inky blue of night hugging the city lights, the hazy gold glow stretching towards forever. I wish I could bottle this moment and keep it.

Then his phone rings again.

The sound slices through the silence, and I feel him tense behind me. His arms don’t loosen, but they still. My gaze drops to the phone on the ground near the helmets, screen glowing.

Anita .

And five missed calls.

My stomach twists, not sharp, not painful, but enough to make my skin prickle. He doesn’t move to pick it up, but I can feel the way his body reacts. Like he wants to.

He’s torn.

I don’t want to ruin this. I don’t want to be that girl, the jealous one, the insecure one. She meant something to him, hell, I think she still does. And being jealous and pissed won’t change that.

“It’s okay,” I say quietly, trying to keep my voice even. “You can answer it.”

He doesn’t speak for a second. Just breathes, slow and heavy, like the weight of the moment’s shifted. Then he kisses my temple, lips lingering.

“She can wait,” he says finally.

But the way he says it, it’s like he’s restrained and holding something back.

I nod, forcing a small smile, but the warmth between us has shifted. It’s still there, flickering but edged now. Lined with questions I’m too afraid to ask.

He sits a little straighter. “We should head back,” he says gently, his eyes flicking to his mobile again.

“Right,” I say with a nod.

“Don’t do that,” he says quickly, almost pleading. His thumb brushes across my lower lip, slow and soft, his eyes locked on mine. “It’s nothing.”

A small, unsure smile tugs at my mouth. “Then why is she calling you?”

He shrugs. “Maybe she’s chasing something for the club.”

“Then why isn’t she calling Axel?”

His hand drops, and something shifts in his expression, his stare hardens, jaw tight. He doesn’t want me digging.

“It’s fine,” I say again, this time sharper. “Phone calls. Lunch. It’s what friends do.” I slide off the bike, still bare beneath my skirt, and bend to pick up his phone. I hold it out, but he stares straight ahead like the weight of my words are too heavy.

Eventually, he takes it and tucks it into his pocket.

I pass him his helmet and tug on my own, fingers fumbling. I think about asking for my underwear back, but the words stick. I’m irritated . . . at him, at myself, at the sudden shift in his mood that’s left me feeling exposed and cold.

I climb back on behind him.

A second later, his hands reach for my thighs, gently tugging my skirt down and tucking the hem beneath my legs. It’s a small thing, but it makes my throat pinch and my heart ache.

I say nothing.

We speed off, both silent, both lost in thoughts we’re not ready to share.

Then my helmet fills with the sound of ringing. I frown, confused, until I hear Atlas’s voice.

“Anita?”

My blood goes cold.

“Where the hell are you?” she demands. Her voice breaks, like she’s been crying.

Atlas tenses beneath my touch. “What’s wrong?”

“I needed you and you didn’t answer,” she almost whispers.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters. “I was dealing with club stuff.”

He doesn’t know I can hear him. His words hit like a slap, sharp and unexpected. I force my body to stay still, my breath to stay even.

“I thought maybe you were with Rue,” Anita says, her voice trembling. “But I need you.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then Atlas replies, low and tight. “I’m on my way. I just need to drop something for Axel. I’ll be ten minutes.”

The call disconnects.

He speeds up, weaving through traffic like something’s chasing him. My arms stay wrapped around his waist, but it doesn’t feel the same. I feel cold again. Hollow.

A minute later, he turns onto my road, slowing outside my place. I climb off, unfastening the helmet and handing it to him. I wait patiently while he sticks it in the saddlebag then turns to me. “Axel just called me,” he says, not meeting my eyes. “You okay if I shoot off?”

I can’t hide the pain in my eyes, my heart screams with it. “You didn’t ask me,” I say, keeping my voice calm.

“About?” he asks, his eyes flitting to his watch impatiently.

“How I knew about your lunch with Anita.”

He bristles at my words. “Like you said, she’s a friend.”

“Just a friend?”

“What is this?” he snaps. “Will I get the Spanish Inquisition every time she calls me? I didn’t even answer it.”

I offer a sad smile, clutching my hands together. “But you did, Atlas. You did.” I turn on my heel and take a few steps towards my apartment.

“What are you talking about?” he calls after me, but I don’t respond because the tears have already started to fall and I’m too proud to let him see.

“And there it is,” I whisper to myself as I head up the steps. “His flaw.”