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Light spilled in the room from the curtains I hadn’t closed that night, gentle, light-gold daylight, distracting from the frosty spring morning. Morning. Not the middle of the night, and he was still here, sleeping. I turned to face him, to study him as he slept. His arm lay over the top of me heavily, something comforting about the weight of it. He had wrapped his arm around me all night, and every time I turned over or inched away, he tugged me back against his chest. Now I could feel sleepy fingers clasping my side, preventing me from scooting any further back.

Cade’s hair fell haphazardly, some dropping over his forehead, some sticking up at the back, looking more of a mess than mine. But mess suited him. He was perfect. Not a blemish on him apart from the tiny break in his eyebrow. It had healed well, although I was sure it had been in the middle of his eyebrow, not the side. I’d been tired when I’d patched him up the other night.

Those eyebrows, a shade or two darker than the hair on his head, were perfectly shaped, and I ran my fingers over the way they arched, smoothing the hair back into place. The only imperfection was his nose, just slightly misshapen where maybe it had been broken, or where God had given him this one thing, just to make him more human.

Dark blond stubble shadowed his jaw, accentuating the beautifully masculine shape of his face, and my fingers trailed down to feel over his cheekbones, the structure of his jaw and the little cleft in his chin. The skin on his chest was the same, smooth apart from the little wisps of dark blond hair that brushed across his pecs. There wasn’t an inconsistency or a bump as my fingers explored, stroking over him. Over the bulge of muscle, the slight hardness of his nipples, the wave of his stomach, the hair growing denser as my hand sunk lower, leading me downward, to the satiny tip of his erect cock and the sticky little bead of pre-cum at the very end.

“Morning, Alice,” he mumbled, the guttural noise of sleep-filled words vibrating in his chest.

I jumped, pulling my hand away from him. Chuckling, he caught my wrist.

“You can touch me, kitten.”

“You’re still here.”

“You’re observant.”

“No. I just mean you didn’t creep off in the middle of the night.”

“Said I wouldn’t. Here I am.”

I liked it. I liked waking up next to him. He smelled different this morning. Not the fresh stab of scent from his aftershave, or freshly washed hair. He smelt more him. Warm and natural.

Cade pulled me closer, bringing us together, our naked bodies touching, but not joining. But I could feel his cock against my stomach. He didn’t reach for me. Didn’t push his hand between my legs to the awaiting wetness. Instead, he just held me to him, resting his chin on the top of my head, wrapping me up in the warmth of him.

“Tell me about your club, Cade.”

“Mmm?” He asked, sleepily.

“The Northern Kings. Tell me about them.”

“Why do you want to know?”

“I want to know what it’s like to belong to something. To someone.”

Cade shifted slightly, taking his head from mine and scooting down the bed a little till we were eye to eye.

“You belong to u…me, kitten.”

I opened my mouth to say something, but as my jaw dropped, the words disappeared. Belong? Maybe I could.

“You don’t feel you belong, Alice?” He asked again, concern hinting in his voice.

“No. Yes. I dunno. I feel like I’m just surviving, treading water. Days go by and nothing ever gets any easier, any different. Not until you and Kinobi came along.”

He smiled. Not a grin, just a small smile, something like contentment, maybe.

“We were lucky to find you, babe. Really lucky.” His eyes fluttered shut again, his lips sill pulled into that sated smile. “You wanna know what the club is like?” He muttered, sleep battling with him.

“Uh-huh.”

“Then come and see it. Us. See who we are. The fun we have. Our family. That’s what the club is about. And the bikes.”

“Suppose I could.”

“Good. Tonight. Come tonight.” The smile on his face faded, too close to sleep.

“Do I get to meet your brother?”

Cade’s eyes snapped open. Just for a moment, meeting my gaze and then slipping closed again.

“Uh-huh. You’ll love him.”

“What’s he like?”

“A lot like me.” The side of Cade’s mouth twitched.

“What’s he called?”

“Caleb.”

I smiled.

“Enough about me, kitten. Tell me about your family.”

And now I sighed, Cade’s eyes opening, the beautiful sage-green staring at me.

“Mam and Dad divorced years ago. He’s moved on. New family. Mam, well, she’s never really moved on. She’s tried. Really tried. I mean, she’s gone through many relationships. Just no one was Dad.”

“That sounds sad, kitten.”

“Maybe for her, I guess. Dad’s happy.” I shrugged.

“My dad died years ago.” Cade said matter-of-factly.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Came off his motorbike on a run. He was a King too. Being part of this club makes me feel closer to him, to the thing he loved most after my mam and me and Ca…Caleb.”

“And that’s why the club is important to you?”

Cade’s eyes drifted shut again, and he nodded slowly.

“One reason. We’re brothers in the non-biblical sense. One in. All in. That’s how it works.” He moved his head again, pulling me against his neck. “Not always for the better,” he muttered quietly.

“Cade?”

“Hmmm?”

“What’s happening at the club tonight?”

“It’s Saturday. It’s just a club night. Drinks, people, lots of drunkenness, music. That sort of thing. Sometimes a fight or two.”

“Fight?”

“Aye. Bikers love a good scrap.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t worry. You’d be safe. I’ll pick you up at eight.”

“On the bike?”

“Yeah. On the bike.”

I snuggled against the warmth of his chest.

“I’ve never been on a motorbike before,” I mumbled against him, listening to the sound of his breathing slowing.

“You’ll love it, babe. It’s the single most liberating thing ever. After cumming, that is.”

Cade chuckled. Low deep rumbles, oddly comforting.

“Ok. Pick me up at eight.”

“Good girl,” he purred, nudging my head upwards, stroking his thumb over my lips.

Then he dipped his body, replacing his thumb with his mouth, rough, hot kisses, his eyes still closed, sleep still gripping him.

*****

“What do you wear for a biker party?” I asked Abbie.

“Wait. You’re going to a party?”

“Uh-huh?”

“What? The actual recluse is going to a party ?”

“Yes.”

“You never come to any of the parties I invite you to.” She turned and shoved her hands onto her hips. “I know. I know. It’s because I never invited you to a biker party.”

“So, what do I wear?”

“I dunno. I’ve never been to a biker party before.”

“But if you were going to a biker party?”

“Jeans and a decent top. You can’t go wrong. And do you think if you both come back here tonight, you can keep the noise down? I need sleep.”

“My, how the tables have turned, you’re complaining about my sex noises now?” I giggled, feeling alive for the first time in months.

“To be fair, I’m not as loud as that. What the fuck was he doing to you last night? I thought the ceiling was coming in.”

“Sorry,” I winced, feeling a flush of heat at my cheeks.

“Don’t be, Alice. It’s healthy. For the first time in months, being kept up by a blond biker God is much better than days and days of back-to-back on-call shifts.”

“First full weekend I’ve had off in months,” I muttered.

“Good. Now go out and enjoy it. I’ll see to the kittens. You just have a good time at your biker party. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” Abbie flashed me a wide smile.

Outside, below us, a rumble started, growing louder until the growl was almost vibrating the entire row of terraced houses.

“Sounds like your lift is here. Better go get some clothes on.”

I bounded out of the kitchen and up the flight of stairs to my attic room, pulling out the clothes stuffed into my drawers till I found what I was looking for. I fluffed my hair and threw some emergency make-up onto the bed next to my purse.

Out on the street the growl of the bike stopped, the sudden, stifling silence stark in comparison. Once I’d settled on the last of three black tops, I pulled on my jeans, taking one last look in the mirror and wishing the make-up I wore would hide the millions of freckles that littered my face. But tonight, for once, I didn’t look like an overworked mess. I just looked normal. Plain.

Cade waited out in the street for me, his head snapping up the moment the red door of our flat screeched open. And for a while he just stared, his eyes searching, his head moving as he scanned every inch of me, and I watched a lock of hair flop loosely over his forehead.

“Fuck me sideways, kitten. You look stunning.”

I smiled, and he reciprocated. A small one. But he looked tense, the muscle in the side of his neck tight.

“Come on. Put this on. It’ll mess your hair up, but I’m going to be doing that later, anyway.”

And now he smiled. That huge wide grin I was used to, green eyes animated once more, half filled with mischief, half with the promise of darkness.

The ride wasn’t long. Fifteen minutes weaving in and out of traffic. But the air was icy as it crept under my helmet, nipping at the very end of my fingers and crawling under the little black jacket I wore. My leather was clearly thinner than Cade’s, because he seemed totally unaffected by the freezing night air, whereas I was sure I was shaking more than the Harley itself. Twice Cade reached back and squeezed my thigh, probably checking I was still there and hadn’t bailed out half-way. But I was there, clinging to him like a monkey, my arms squeezing his waist and my head glued to his back.

Cade rode fast, the bike roaring underneath us, and I could feel every single vibration inside of me. The wind whipped my face, strands of hair swirling around inside the helmet, even with the visor down. I’d tucked my hair up inside the helmet as Cade suggested, but I was sure that when I took it off, I was going to look like a bewildered scarecrow after surviving a tornado.

But finally, we pulled off the dual carriageway and down the side of an industrial estate. The warehouses and pointed steel fenced compounds thinned, and all was left was a badly looked after road, lined with overgrown trees and bushes. At the very end, as we followed the River Tyne up stream again, a building came into view, every light in its windows lit up, like no one had to worry about paying the electric bill.

Cade slowed, the roar of the motorbike changing to a rumble, deep guttural vibrations as the rhythm of the engine changed. The pub sat by itself, overlooking the river, its view obscured by the leafless arms of trees that had slid down the riverbank. I glanced at the signage as the motorbike glided past. Dog on the Tyne . A play on words from a song by my mother’s favourite band, Lindisfarne. She would approve. Of the pub at least. Maybe not of what might wait for me inside.

Cade pulled around the corner, to a patch of broken tarmac covered in motorbikes. I counted at least fifteen. All Harleys. Every single one. A light shone over the top of them, unusually bright compared to the dull lights over the pub’s entrance. But at the very top was a cluster of cameras, all pointing out in different directions, multiple red dots from multiple devices.

The bike suddenly lurched sideways, the movement catching me by surprise, and I grabbed at Cade, my legs suddenly trembling.

“It’s ok, Alice. You’ll not fall,” he coaxed, pushing the visor of his helmet up.

Sliding off in front of me, he turned, offered me a gloved hand, and guided me off the bike like I was dismounting a horse. A knight in leather.

“Come on.” Cade pulled his hands free from the leather gloves, icy fingers brushing under my neck, fiddling with the strap of my helmet and easing it off carefully over my head.

My hair fell out from underneath, dropping around my shoulders, the waves I’d styled it into almost all gone as the wind from the ride over had bashed the style out of it. Yet Cade still stood in front of me, watching, his smile fading, something serious creeping across his face.

“Come on,” he said again, gripping one stiff hand with his, and leading me towards the entrance to the pub.

The music bounced out of the doors before they had even opened. A thick, heavy beat. A chatter of voices. Of deep tones and shouts, all mingling into the smoky atmosphere. Heat hit me as we pushed through the doors, like we’d just walked into an oven. My eyes struggled to adjust, the darkness broken by the sweep of lights and then the plunge of darkness again. I saw faces, but nothing tangible, no features I could focus on as the huge disco ball above us scattered light everywhere.

And then I saw him. He turned from the bar. Eyes locking with mine, an odd recognition flickering across his face as he looked at me. A few metres out. But there was no mistaking what I saw. I looked from him and then to Cade, and back to the man at the bar. A man I recognised. The man who was a complete carbon copy of his brother, like we were staring into a mirror.

He moved forward with determined strides, the recognition on his face changing to shock, and then to anger, his brows furrowing. And now he was upon us. Big, long, purposeful steps. I think he might have growled, his face contorting, stepping around me and then launching himself through the air. I squeezed my eyes shut, unable to think, or move, or run. But he didn’t connect with me, his body grazing mine as he rushed past. Behind me, I heard a thud and a groan. In front of me, the rest of the bar erupted, stools pushed over, bodies moving from the front of me, from the side of me. The pub descended into madness, chaos all around me, and I watched on, stuck in a whirlwind of slow motion.