Page 4 of His Biker Daddy

His response to Tate asking if he’s spoken to Thatcher since Everly went missing has my jaw clenched.

I’m trying to drag in breaths to not bound out of my chair, stalk over and shove him onto the desk, reddening his ass for talking to another man—even if it was to try and get him where the club could handle him.

“Yeah, I figured he was in on it and if there was any time to try and draw him out, it was now,” Cash answers.

“He’s hinted at a meet up several times, most of them I’ve play off, but he asked the night before Everly was taken and I hadn’t responded yet.

I wrote back to him last night that I might be able to make it this weekend if he was still interested.

He suggested tonight almost immediately but I’ve not given the final yes to get a place and time, but I can if it’ll get us closer to getting Everly back. ”

“Where he’ll be planning to do the same thing to you with his buddies as the others. They just won’t know that we’re there as well, and we can counter their plan to jump you,” Tates states, and he nods in easy agreement.

“No,” falls from my lips, pulling Cash’s attention back to me and off Tate.

“What?” Cash questions, his eyes narrowing on me like I’m out of my mind, but I fucking am.

“I said no. You’re not doing it. It’s too dangerous,” I snap, my hand slamming down on the desk as I stand up, surprising the other Keepers in the room with the outburst. I get it.

None of them have ever seen me lose it this much, but I can’t fucking think with the idea of Cash putting his neck on the line, of being taken from me before I ever get a taste of how sweet it’s going to be with him.

“He’s an adult and a member of this club, it’s his decision,” Tate warns me.

“If it was Everly you’d be saying the same damn thing,” I fume, and he drop his eyes, as I seethe even harder. He can’t say I’m wrong and he fucking knows it.

“It has to be me,” Cash says calmly, moving closer to me, and my hand snakes out, grabbing onto the back of his neck, holding him tight.

The look in his eyes says he understands, but there’s no way he possibly can.

He’s too damn young to know what it feels like to think of losing him now that I’ve finally found him—found what I want for the rest of my life.

He’s nearly half my age. I don’t know how Tate’s keeping it even remotely together right now, especially with Everly being twenty years younger than he is.

Fuck…he and Everly really are alike, and I know Everly would never begin to leave Tate. So why would Cash leave me? Especially if he gets to have the little playtime I know he’s starving for.

“There’s no way they’re going to show themselves unless they see me,” Cash continues, his eyes never leaving mine.

“He may not know the face entirely, but the photos showed enough of my body that no one else will be able to go in instead. Anyone that’s even close to my size and build has way too many tattoos. He’d sense it’s a setup and bail.”

“What’s to say he doesn’t see you, recognize you, sense it’s a setup, shoots you and still bails?” I return, as the others wisely keep their mouths shut.

“Because very few people around town know I’m part of the club to start.

Yeah, I ride a bike, but I rarely wear a leather jacket or even my cut when I go into town.

When I do wear them on rides, I have a full head helmet on, and no one ever sees my face.

Even if he does recognize me and puts me together with the club, he’s likely to be even more anxious to come after me, because he’s expecting a horny gay boy to show up wanting to get fucked.

He has no idea I know it’s him, know what he does because he doesn’t show his face online.

Not once in any of the photos does he show his face and since the phone is a burner, it’s not tied to me or the club.

Even if he tried to trace it, the closest he’d get is to the local tower nearest to the town’s single gay bar,” Cash says, holding my gaze, everything I’ve been trying to fight right there at the surface, and I can’t fucking stop myself anymore.

My hand pulls him in closer, my hold tight so he knows he’s not going anywhere but where I want him, showing in the hold that I’m in control, before I steal his mouth in a hard, slightly punishing kiss.

Cash’s lips instantly part beneath mine, letting me in, letting me taste all of him—of what’s mine.

“Come on brother, we’ve got shit to get mapped out if we’re going to do this tonight,” Knuckles says breaking us apart, and I fight to not snarl and dive back in for more when my eyes slide over Cash’s flushed cheeks, his lips wet and swollen.

Making me want to see them wrapped around my cock even more than I have before now.

“You and I are going to have a conversation when we’re back here about keeping things from me, especially when they involve talking to other men,” I warn him, enjoying his little gulp as I brush his hair from his eyes, before turning towards Knuckles.

“You bring any of those undershirts we ripped off?”

“The bullet proof ones? Yeah I think we’ve got a couple in with the rest of the equipment,” Knuckles states.

“Get him one.”

“They’d spot one a mile away,” Cash says shaking his head.

“Not these. They’re the thinnest ones we’ve ever seen, they have an extremely thin plate, and the Kevlar is woven into the material as well.

It may not completely stop a bullet, but it’ll keep you alive and they’re only noticeable up close.

Very close,” Rambo adds and while they head off to get things together, Cash sends the message to Thatcher about the meet.

By the time we’re out there, my blood is boiling again, and I almost take Tate’s head off when he doesn’t let me follow the others in.

His simple warning gets to me though, “No, you’re too emotionally attached to this.

So am I. You’d shoot first if he laid a hand on Cash before we got him subdued and I can’t let that happen. Not yet.”

“I get first shot at him once we have news on Everly,” I state and he nods, leaving me to stew until Cash has approached the bastard.

Before I know it, we’re in the clearing and while the others have the bastards that were waiting to gang up on my boy dead and Thatcher is in Stealth, Knuckles, and Rambo’s tight hold, I head straight for my boy, pulling him in for a kiss as I make sure he’s safe.

He kisses me back entirely, his hand gripping the waist of my pants tight, and I let it linger until I can finally stand to be apart from him in order to help get Everly home.

Torturing the asshole until he gives up the location where they’ve stashed Everly makes me happy.

Not sexually, even though we use that on him, including sticking a dildo covered with my cum into his ass, but the only reason I was even hard was because I’d had my boy in my arms, my hands running over him to make sure nothing got close to touching him.

If it wouldn’t have been our first time, I’d have bent his ass over his bike and taken it hard to rejoice that he was safe.

Even if the rest of the entire club had been here to see it—actually, that part would have gotten me even harder.

It’s a good thing we stopped Tate from storming the mayor’s mansion though, because the bastard had her out at the old Jackson Manor instead. And when we pulled up, it was all quiet—too quiet it seemed. At least until we got inside and found Everly in the basement—surrounded by four dead bodies.

The proud gleam in Tate’s eyes as he sees what his little girl did to protect herself, and the baby it seems they’re having, is the same thing I felt when Cash told me he had to be the one to show up to meet Thatcher. Even if behind it was pure terror—something I’m not good with feeling at all.

I think we all feel a bit of Tate’s pride though when Everly nails Thatcher in the nuts with a metal pipe before Tate takes her home to rest, especially when we learn she busted one.

By the time he’s dead, the other one is ruptured as well, but it was just a slice of the pain he felt as we amputated limb after limb, until he finally bled out.

We leave the others to the cleanup, and I pull Cash onto his bike, heading back to the clubhouse with him holding onto me tight. Something he better be ready to do for the rest of his life.