Page 77 of Claimed By the Bikers

“How long have you known about this place?” Ember asks, watching me spread the blanket on level ground.

“I found it well over two decades ago, when I needed somewhere quiet to think.” I settle onto the blanket and pat the space beside me. “Sometimes a man needs to get away from engines and voices and the constant buzz of other people’s energy.”

She sits beside me with our shoulders touching. “What were you thinking about?”

“Whether I wanted to stay in Wolf Pike or keep moving. Whether Atlas, Garrett, and the other founding fathers of the Black Wolves MC were worth building something permanent with, or if I was just passing through like I had been everywhere else since New Orleans.”

“What decided it for you?”

“Atlas found me out here one night, brought coffee, and sat with me for hours without saying a word. He kept me company while I worked through everything that was eating at me.” I open one of the water bottles and offer it to her. “That’s when I realized I’d found brothers. These days, I can’t imagine being anywhere else. This is home,chérie. You, Atlas, Garrett, the restaurant, even the chaos and the danger. All of it.”

She takes a sip of water, then leans back on her elbows to watch the sky darken. Stars are starting to appear, faint at first but growing brighter as the last light fades from the horizon.

“I used to love looking at stars when I was a kid,” she says quietly. “My mom would take me camping sometimes, just the two of us. We’d lie on our backs and make up stories about the constellations.”

“What kind of stories?”

“Silly ones. The Big Dipper was a giant ladle for stirring up storms. Orion was a hunter who fell in love with the moon and kept chasing her across the sky.” She smiles at the memory. “Mom said the stars were proof that beautiful things could survive in dark places. I think she would have liked you.”

“Why?”

“Because you see beauty in dark places too. The way you talk about your forge, about creating something from raw metal and fire. The way you found family with Atlas and Garrett after losing your sister.” She turns her head to look at me. “The way you make me feel like maybe I can be beautiful too, even with all the darkness I’ve seen.”

“Ma belle, you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Dark places and all.”

She sits up and moves closer. I catch the faint scent of her shampoo, mixed with the desert air and the exhaust of a motorcycle.

“Silas?”

“Oui?”

She leans in, and I meet her halfway. Her mouth opens under mine, and when she sighs, I slip my tongue against hers.

There’s a moan humming in her throat as I cup her tits through her shirt, feeling her nipples harden under my palms. I roll a nipple between my fingers, pinching lightly, and she gasps into my mouth. Her back arches, pressing closer, chasing the sensation. That small sound she makes—it damn near undoes me. I tease her again, and she moans, low and throaty, a sound that vibrates straight through my chest.

We pull apart only when breathing becomes impossible. She tips her head back, laughing, the sound bubbling out of her like a release valve. Her lips are swollen, her cheeks flushed.

I laugh too, brushing her hair back, the coarse blanket beneath us gritty with desert sand.

“Silas, I needed that,” she says, her smile wide, eyes sparkling as she leans against me. “Pick one,” she says, pointing skyward. “A star. That one can be you.”

I cock an eyebrow. “And what if you put me halfway across the sky from you, hm? What then?”

She nudges me with her shoulder. “I’d never. I’ll find ones that stay close, no matter what.”

We lie back on the blanket, her hand slipping into mine, fingers lacing together. She names the first star Atlas—the brightest, steady, and commanding. The next, she claims for Garrett—a softer light, but always constant, dependable. Then she points out a star off to the side and declares it’s me.

“Why that one?” I ask, half-suspicious.

“It burns hotter,” she teases, eyes glinting.

“And you?”

She pauses, scanning the heavens, then points to a faint star nestled near ours. “That’s me. Right here, caught between the three of you, but close. Always close.”

“What are you thinking about?” I ask when she’s been quiet for several minutes.

“The future.”