Page 82 of Malachi (Outsiders MC #1)

Malachi

The war room smells of leather, oil, and the tension of men who’ve seen too much. The kind that settles in the bones and doesn’t leave, even when the threats are handled. Even when the bodies are buried. Donovan’s gone. But the rot he fed off? Still festering.

The chairs are filled—East, Knox, Nash, Kyle, Victor, James, and the newly elected patch, Rider. Only the elected officers are present. This meeting is for strategy, containment, and control.

I look around the table and say the name that’s still dripping with venom.

“Graves.” The room stills. East leans forward, fingers tapping out a restless rhythm against the wood.

“He’s too careful to get his hands dirty directly.

But we know he gave Donovan zoning protection.

Moved permits through back channels. Profited from shell companies. He’s not just dirty. He’s insulated.”

“That makes him dangerous,” Knox adds. “Especially now that Donovan’s gone. Graves is going to scramble to cover the trail.”

“He won’t,” Nash says flatly. “He’ll pivot. Use the sympathy card. ‘Oh no, another tragedy in Willowridge.’ Fucking snake.”

Kyle scowls. “So what? We wait for him to make another move?”

“We’re not waiting,” I say. “We’re watching. Every dollar, every whisper, every favor he calls in, we track it.”

Victor shifts, finally speaking. “There’s something buried deeper with Graves. Power at that level doesn’t come without sacrifice. He’s tied to something. Blood, maybe. Or legacy. I don’t know yet. But he’s not just a crooked politician.”

James leans forward, his voice low and certain. “Graves is a symptom, not the disease.”

He’s right. But I’m not playing symptoms. I want the cure.

I glance at Victor. “You cross paths with Graves more than any of us. Keep your ear to the ground. If he flinches, I want to know.”

Victor nods once, no hesitation. “Understood.”

“We keep eyes on Darla,” Knox adds, his tone harder now. “Because Graves will use her to get what he wants.”

East goes quiet. Not unreadable, just thinking. And for East, that means it’s personal.

“Meeting adjourned,” I say finally. “Updates every forty-eight hours. No one moves without eyes on.”

Chairs scrape back. Boots echo against the floor. One by one, they file out. A storm contained, but never silent.

I stay seated. When the last person leaves and the door shuts, I lean back and rub the tension from the back of my neck. The war isn’t over. But for tonight, the battlefield is quiet.

Standing, I walk to the door and open it halfway, catching Kyle as he heads down the hall.

“Hey,” I call. “Tell Candace I need her.”

He raises a brow but doesn’t ask questions. “On it.”

Moving back to my chair, I sit there in the dim light, staring at the space where maps and bloodstained plans once covered this table. Now it’s just a scarred surface. But it still remembers.

The door opens ten minutes later, and I know it’s her before I look up. She strolls in, carrying herself with confidence that announces trouble before it speaks.

One hand on her hip, notebook in the other, expression sharp as glass.

She’s wearing those damn shorts that barely count, and a tank top that hugs her curves, showing just enough midriff to make my blood heat.

Her blonde curls are loose, wild from whatever she was in the middle of, and she looks like she knows exactly what she’s doing to me.

“You better be dying or bleeding. I was in the middle of something, Hayes.”

I smirk, slow and deliberate, the kind that makes her roll her eyes even when she wants to bite me. “Close the door.”

She hesitates. I can see the calculation in her eyes. Is this club business or Malachi business? Then she closes the door with her foot, the click echoing with intent.

“Take off those shorts and panties. Come sit on my cock and ride me slowly. Until I’m losing my mind.”

She blinks, caught between a laugh and a moan, but I don’t let her gather herself.

“You know what I want, hellcat. I want your thighs tight around me. I want to feel how wet you are when you slide down. I want you grinding until your legs shake. Until you can’t think of anything but how I feel inside you.”

Her breath stutters. But she doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t back up. She just watches me, poised and burning.

“Don’t make me ask twice,” I add, voice rough. “You love when I talk this way. So show me how bad you’ve been needing it.”

She drags her shorts and panties down slowly, teasing, giving me the full show as she kicks them to the side.

My gaze tracks every inch of newly exposed skin as I unbutton my jeans, slipping one hand inside and pulling my cock free.

I stroke myself as I watch the way her breath catches.

The way her hips sway as she closes the space between us, gaze locked on mine with that fire I crave.

“Hope you weren’t planning on getting any actual work done in here tonight,” she taunts, voice like silk over smoke.

“The second I saw you in those shorts, this became my only priority.”

She straddles me but doesn’t lower yet. Just hovers, that smirk dancing across her lips as she glances down and sees me stroking myself, slow and tight. Her eyes darken. Her breath catches.

“I’ve been thinking about this all damn day,” I grit out. “You, riding me in this chair, making me lose my mind while the rest of the club walks past that door.”

She leans down, dragging her teeth along my jaw. “Then shut up and lose it.”

I growl low in my throat, but she doesn’t give me time to answer. Her fingers wrap around my cock, guiding me to her heat. She sinks, inch by inch, and strangled moans tear from both of us. Raw, guttural, and aching.

“Fuck,” I grit, my head falling back. Her heat surrounds me, squeezes around me, and I feel her pulse syncing with mine. “You feel unreal. Too good to be true.”

She grinds against me, circling her hips, setting a rhythm that’s slow, deliberate, wicked. Every stroke is a test. Every movement a taunt.

“You said until you lose your mind?” she pants, her lips brushing mine. “Let’s see how long you last.”

Her body moves with the grace of silk trailing flame. The friction, the tightness, the wet slide of her against me, it’s all too much and not enough. My hands grip her hips, jaw clenched, riding the edge with every flex of her muscles.

“Is that all you’ve got, President?” she teases, rolling her hips just right, her tits bouncing with every movement. “Thought you said you were gonna lose it.”

“I will,” I growl, my voice rough. “But I’ll take you with me.”

I shove her tank top and bra higher, baring all of her. She watches me watching her, fully aware of how undone I am. Her smirk is sinful. Powerful. Then she clenches around me.

“You’re already gone,” she whispers. “You just don’t want to admit I’m the one who made you break.”

I snap. Grabbing her neck and ass, I slam her down hard, burying myself deep. She cries out; the sound is torn from her throat as I grind up into her.

“You want to play, hellcat?” I rasp. “Keep riding me with that rhythm and I swear to God, I’ll bend you over this table, then wreck you until you forget your own name.”

She gasps, then laughs, dark and breathless, almost wild. Her hands slap to my chest as she starts to ride me harder, pace erratic, desperate, chasing that edge with reckless abandon.

“Come with me,” she pants, her voice fractured, raw.

I thrust up into her again, harder, deeper, everything in me unraveling. She tightens around me, and I feel it, her breaking apart, her body shaking.

And I follow. I spill into her, vision gone white, everything tightening and locking as I lose myself completely. We crash into each other, trembling, breathless, skin damp with sweat, hearts slamming against our ribs.

She presses her lips to my temple and rests her forehead against mine. “Told you I’d make you lose control.”

I laugh, voice ragged. “Yeah... but fuck if it isn’t the best way to fall apart.”

My arms circle her waist as she tucks her head into the crook of my neck, her fingers still tangled in my hair. I feel her smile against my skin.

For a long moment, neither of us speak. We just breathe. One heartbeat slowly syncing to another.

In the thick, quiet warmth of it all, I whisper, “You’re everything, hellcat. Everything I didn’t know I needed.”

She lifts her head, eyes soft now, lips brushing mine. “You too, Hayes.”

I hold her tighter, letting the silence stretch, and for the first time in years, my mind drifts to the future.

Not as a battlefield, but something I want to build with her.

Nights together like this. Mornings where she steals my coffee.

A life that doesn’t end in blood, but in peace.

She’s mine. My forever. And I get to keep her.

The End!

***

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