Page 25 of Fallen Dove (Fallen Lords MC 2nd Gen #1)

Mason

The second the words left her mouth; I thought my heart stopped.

“Alice and Wrecker know.”

I was standing behind the bar, wiping it down before the night started even though it was already clean. Just something to keep my hands busy. But now my rag dropped, and I gripped the edge of the counter so hard my knuckles turned white.

“You’re joking,”

I said flatly.

Adley’s eyes narrowed.

“Do I look like I’m joking?”

I stared at her, with my pulse hammering in my ears. Wrecker. Christ. If there was one man whose radar I didn’t want to ping, it was him. The man was my president and my brother.

“Jesus Christ, Adley,”

I hissed.

“You tellin’ me this now like it’s nothing? Like Wrecker knowing isn’t a goddamn disaster?”

She crossed her arms, and tilted her in defiance.

“See? They know. And the world didn’t end. You’re still standing here, I’m still standing here, and no one’s put a bullet in your head.”

I shoved a hand through my hair and paced behind the bar.

“Don’t you get it? It’s not about me. It’s about what this looks like. You’re Slayer’s daughter, Adley. You’re the one person in this world I’m not supposed to touch.”

“Well, you already touched me,”

she snapped, cheeks flushed, eyes blazing.

“And I’m not sorry for it. Are you?”

Her words punched me right in the chest. I swallowed hard, and tried to tamp down the surge of heat that always came when she looked at me like that. Like she saw right through every wall I’d ever built.

“I’m not sorry,”

I admitted. My voice was low, rough.

“But that doesn’t mean this is easy. Wrecker and Alice knowing? That’s bad enough. What happens when the rest of the club finds out? When Slayer finds out?”

She shook her head and stepped closer.

“I’m thirty-one years old, Mason. Not eighteen. Not some kid who doesn’t know what she wants. I can make my own choices, and if that choice is you, then no one, not the club, not my dad, is gonna tell me different.”

The air between us snapped tight like a live wire.

I should’ve walked away. Should’ve cooled off, shut this down, come back to it with clearer heads. But Adley was right there, fire in her eyes, her chest rising and falling fast, and I couldn’t stop myself.

I grabbed her wrist and tugged her toward the hallway. She didn’t resist. Her shoes padded against the floor as I led her straight into my office. I slammed the door shut and spun her around, pressing her back to the wood.

“You drive me fuckin’ insane,”

I growled, and caged her in with my arms.

Her lips curved, wicked and daring.

“Good. Then we’re even.”

I didn’t kiss her soft. I kissed her like I was drowning and she was the only thing that could drag me back to air. Our mouths clashed, our teeth and tongues a mess of heat and need. She clawed at my shirt, dragged it up, desperate to get her hands on skin.

I tore it over my head, barely breaking the kiss. Her hands skimmed down my chest. Nails scratching, and I groaned into her mouth. My palms slid under her shirt, pushing it up until I could cup her bare breasts. She gasped, and arched into me.

“Mason…”

Her whisper shredded what was left of my restraint. I grabbed her hips and lifted her, setting her on the edge of my desk. Papers scattered, a pen rolled to the floor, but I didn’t give a damn. All I cared about was the way she hooked her legs around me and pulled me closer.

Her jeans were in the way. Mine too. We were both tugging, fumbling, and frantic. I unbuttoned hers, sliding my hand inside until my fingers found heat and wetness that made me curse.

“Fuck, Adley.”

She moaned my name, and bit down on my shoulder as I stroked her. Quick and rough because we were both too far gone for slow. Her hand went to my belt, yanking, desperate. I caught her wrist.

“Desk sex in the Social Club, Adley? You tryin’ to kill me?”

Her eyes burned into mine.

“I need you. Right now.”

That was all it took. My belt hit the floor, jeans shoved down just enough. I pushed her panties aside, and then I was inside her in one hard thrust.

We both gasped and clung to each other.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t sweet. It was raw and furious. My hands gripped her hips as I drove into her, and the desk rattled beneath us. Her nails dug into my back as her cries were muffled against my neck.

“God, Mason,”

she moaned.

“Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

“I couldn’t if I tried,”

I ground out as sweat dripped down my temple.

Every thrust was a release of the frustration, the fear, the need I’d bottled up for too long. And then it shifted. Her lips met mine again, softer this time, her hands cupping my face like I wasn’t breaking rules, wasn’t risking everything. Like I was hers.

“Adley…”

She tightened around me, and her body trembled. I followed right after, burying myself deep as we came undone together.

For a moment, the world was silent but for our ragged breaths.

I kissed her again, slow now. My hands smoothed over her thighs, holding her like she might slip away if I let go.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,”

I whispered against her mouth.

She smiled faintly, and brushed her thumb along my jaw.

“Or maybe I’ll be the reason you finally live a little.”

I rested my forehead against hers, torn between terror and peace. Because she might be right.