5

ATOM

W ater stings my skin as the shower rains down on me at full pressure. I’m half awake, half hungover, and exceptionally hard.

I squeeze my cock as I glide my hand up and down its length. Sleep has been hard to come by. The dreams that plague me are vivid and intense and horny as fuck, and they revolve around the same person.

Ember.

It all stems from that kiss in the stables three days ago.

Every night since, I’ve dreamed about the way her lips pillowed mine, the addictive taste of her, and the sweet heat of her body.

One minute, she was standing there, spitting fire, and the next…

My brain completely disengaged. All the years of pent-up longing and wanting tumbled through the barriers I’d built like a rockfall. Nothing could stop me from throwing her down on a blanket in one of the stalls, stripping her naked, and making sure she couldn’t shout at me anymore because of all the orgasms I was gonna coax from her.

If she hadn’t brought us to our senses, I would have been deep inside what I’m sure is the most perfect pussy this side of the Rockies.

The thought of it, the visual of my ass jackhammering into her, is enough to bring me a step closer to what I need: a release before I get on my bike in hot weather, wearing denim.

“Damn, Em,” I curse.

If I didn’t know better, I’d swear there was some kind of witchcraft involved. Because a man doesn’t manage to park a woman from his mind for five years, then suddenly ruin all his hard work and efforts by almost fucking his president’s daughter on the stable floor.

I stroke harder, focusing on the head, knowing it’s the most sensitive part and a guaranteed route to get me from daydreaming about Ember to pouring out what I want to pump into her down the drain.

Jesus, how good would she look pregnant, carrying my kid?

The thought is enough to bring that telltale tingle in my balls that proves I’m close.

I let my perverted daydream run riot. Fucking her from behind, my hands on her swollen belly, and…

“Fuck,” I grunt as I start to come in an orgasm too strong to often be achieved solo.

The mental picture of releasing all over her pregnant stomach amplifies everything as I give in to the thoughts I’ve tried to bury for the last five years.

As my knees shake and my strokes lose any form of rhythm, I know deep in my soul there has only ever been one person I wanted to knock up. I want Ember to be mine, and for her to be pregnant with my kid.

After I catch my breath, I wash my hair and think through where my head went just then. I’ve always thought I wanted kids because it’s what’s expected of me as an Addams. A generation of kids to pass the ranch to. But two of my sisters have kids. I have four nephews who could benefit. Or I could just blow the whole fucking thing and give it to my only niece, Tillie, as she’s the eldest.

But something settles in my chest at the thought of being a dad. I want kids. And part of my legacy will be to split the land into however many parcels I need to. Give them all a slice. Let them do with it what they will, but with a rule that if they want to sell, they have to give their siblings first right of refusal.

Once I’m washed and dressed, I down some coffee and eggs. As I’m eating, I fire off a handful of messages. One to Kelly to congratulate her on passing her latest exam. Another to wish my nephew, Cody, a happy birthday. He’s already sent a photograph of him sitting on the dirt bike I gave him, along with a note of thanks. Rowan gave me a fucking earful when I dropped it off for her to hide last week, but I promised I’d teach him how to ride it safely.

I then load up my bike with everything I’d packed last night.

When I pull into the club lot and park my bike in its place in our ride formation, all the brothers can talk about is how it’s the best fucking day to ride to Sturgis. There isn’t a cloud in the sky. Not sure there is anything better than being in the flow with these men on a day like this.

Except perhaps kissing Ember in the goddamn stable.

And my thoughts are back on her which, in all honesty, is where they have been most of the last three days. That woman will be the death of me. I can’t reconcile my vacillating thoughts. A part of me hopes my future looks like the two of us, ninety-years-old, with kids and grandkids and a large house with a wraparound porch.

But when I stepped into my home last night, long after the sun had set, exhausted after a full day of backbreaking work mending fences with some of the hands, I truly believed kissing her was a reckless mistake.

“Atom,” Butcher says, disturbing my thoughts. “You did a great job of taking care of the logistics in Smoke’s place.”

He offers me his hand, and I shake it firmly. “Thanks, Prez.”

“Knew I could count on you to get it done, brother. Move your bike up and ride in Smoke’s place to my left.”

Dad has never been big on praise. Yet it never bothered me, because between Grandpa and Butcher, I had two good men showing me the path. And the idea I’ll be riding in the first row across from Grudge makes this an even better day.

“Well deserved, brother,” Wraith says as I leave my usual row alongside him.

I grin as some of the other brothers cheer, clap, and whistle as I switch position.

Butcher leads the column. He’s always been a decent man with me. Dad says he never wanted a leadership role in the club, as he knew it would take him away from the ranch too much. But I don’t buy it. He doesn’t much like work but seems to love rewards.

Sadly, unless you’re a self-serving billionaire, the two seem to go hand in hand. In life, you can’t have, and maybe don’t deserve, one without the other.

Maybe I won’t be the club enforcer when the time comes for me to run the ranch, but I hope I’ll be able to manage both roles, since they are two important parts of my life.

I love my club, I love my role, and I respect my president. If he wants me to keep my hands off his daughter, I’ll keep my hands off his daughter.

I’ve done it for years.

Even if there was something about seeing Ember and that guy in the bar that reminded me she won’t be single forever. Of course, she wants a boyfriend who could become a husband and the father to her kids. And I need to be okay with that, even as something curdles in my gut at the knowledge that if I do as I plan and keep my hands off her, it won’t be me.

Ember and Butcher’s relationship has always been a push and pull. Once upon a time, I used to be able to see both sides, but I realize that Butcher’s side always aligned with my own view: that Ember should be protected more.

But, if I put myself in her shoes, I can imagine how that must chafe. She’s like a horse that isn’t quite trained to take the bit and the saddle. When she sees her father coming, she’s probably ready to bolt.

If I ever have kids, I hope they don’t flinch when they see me coming. I hope they always think, Thank fuck, here’s Dad. He’ll figure this shit out with me.

Empathizing with her now, I feel like even more of a shit. Because he spoke to her on the back of my comments about her security at Whiskey Fever, which made her mad and lit the fuse that blew my self-control.

Maybe ten days away from home, away from everything that reminds me of Ember, will be a good thing. Time with brothers, too much alcohol because I don’t have to get up for anything the following morning, and some hot and willing pussy will set me straight.

We ride as one as we navigate our way out of Colorado and head to South Dakota. The roads are clear, the sun high, and I let myself find some measure of peace as the miles go by.

Butcher raises his hand and gives the signal to reduce speed as we hit Sturgis city limits. We fall in behind another MC out of Albuquerque. Their tail runner gives Butcher a nasty look, and of course Butcher returns it with the one-finger salute.

A part of me looks forward to the violence of Sturgis, and it wouldn’t be a bike rally without at least one of us getting into a shitload of trouble. It becomes the foundation for the stories we tell around the fire in the clubhouse during winter, when the weather is so cold, it turns your balls to brass.

The campsite is a welcome respite when it finally comes into view. There are guards on the gate, watching who comes in and out of the campground. Prospects Caleb and Wynn did a great job of setting up the main part of the camp. The big awning is up over the cooking area. There’s a second awning with some chairs underneath for those who don’t want to roast and sweat in the sun.

And our tents are lined up in the same order we line up our bikes.

King, our national president, and the New Jersey Outlaws are also here. And I see Whip from the Bethlehem, Pennsylvania, chapter chatting with a shirtless Spark, who has a bandana tied around his forehead. The two sergeant at arms raise their hands in salute, and it feels like a homecoming of sorts.

We line our bikes up in order of rank, as always, and by then, I’m fucking half-starved. The scent of hot dogs and burgers fills the air and makes my mouth water. Yeah, this is what I need, new memories to replace those of a kiss in a stable.

A slap across my shoulder makes me jump. “You joining us?” Butcher says.

I force a smile on my face and shake thoughts of Ember from my mind. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

I step off the bike and strip to my chest as Bates, the New Jersey chapter’s enforcer. offers me a beer. “Good ride in?” he asks.

I look up to the sky. “Couldn’t have been better. You?”

“Three days in, ten days away, three days home. First time I’ve ever wondered if it’s worth it.”

“Your old lady good about it?”

Bates grins. “Vi’s a fucking rock star. Her and Iris, Spark’s old lady, decided to take the kids to my uncle’s cabin. Me and Spark dropped ‘em off before we left. They got enough supplies they could outlast World War Three if they had to.”

I catch sight of a woman with long hair wearing jeans and a cut with nothing but a bikini top beneath it on our site. “That Niro’s old lady?”

We heard about her briefly when they came to drop off the meth, but I never got the full story.

Bates grins. “Catalina. Yeah. I’m waiting for the first biker who thinks he can fuck with her. She took Clutch down the first day we met her.”

I do a double take back to Bates. “She nailed Clutch? How did her and Niro meet?”

Bates runs a hand through his hair. “She thought he was King and kidnapped him.”

My eyebrows almost reach my hairline. “She did what?”

“Yup. There was a big debate about whether she would come here with us or not. But she’s more a brother than some of the ass-wipes here. Gets her hands dirty for the club on the regular. Has the uncanny ability to harness Niro’s energy. Plus, he’d be a fucking pain in the ass being away from her so much. King said fuck it. Didn’t even take a vote. Invited Cat to come himself so she never felt like she was coming as Niro’s tagalong.”

I knock back half of my beer. The ice-cold liquid refreshes my dry throat from the ride. “You think he’ll move to patch her in properly?”

Bates nods. “Eventually.”

“Don’t know how I feel about that.”

Bates laughs as we walk towards the New Jersey chapter’s area. “Get to know Cat over the weekend. She’s one of a kind.”

“Will do.” When the president catches my eye, I say, “King.”

“Hey, big guy,” King says. “Those Russians giving you any more problems?”

I shake my head. “They’ve been quiet of late, but we can’t be complacent. Wraith and I have been making sure we’re collecting regular intelligence. We think we’ve got a handle on them.”

King grins at that. “Shame. Was kinda hoping we could drive south on our way back and cause some trouble. Ready for ten days of trouble?”

I chuckle. “With you guys? You’re all fucking married and shit. Probably going to be back in your tents by nine.”

Halo throws a bottle cap in my direction, and I bat it away before it can reach me. “Marital status…has zero reflection on having a good time…while we’re here.” His voice is slurred, like he already had too much to drink.

I glance at King, and my face must reveal my thoughts. “They found out Ari is pregnant two days before we left.”

“Congratulations,” I say, banking down the rising feelings of what it would be like to be talking about mine and Ember’s baby.

“Yeah,” he says with a grin.

Bates leans into me. “Cost him, like, fifty grand in IVF and other shit. It’s a fucking miracle. Practically had to drag him here because he’s obsessed with Ari’s nonexistent bump.”

The thoughts I had in the shower this morning come back to me. I know exactly how he feels. “There’s gonna be some confusion in your house then,” I say.

Halo looks confused.

“How does it work with both your old lady and kid calling you Daddy?”

Bates and King burst out laughing, and Halo grins. “If the kid’s around when Ari’s calling me Daddy, we got bigger problems than names. There are some things a kid should never see. And Daddy fucking Mommy is one of them.”

The laughter grows. This is how it should be with a biker brotherhood: Camaraderie. Long rides. Own rules.

But as fun as it is, standing in the sunshine, unhealthily frying my skin, I can’t help but wish I was back in the stable with Ember.