Page 7 of Victorious, Part 2 (The LA Defiance MC #6)

I look into her eyes, those beautiful green eyes that have been haunting my thoughts.

Our breathing hitches as I lean closer to her, but I hesitate, knowing that if I don’t kiss her now, the tension of this moment could escalate again.

Bringing up my hand, I gently cup her cheek, my eyes shifting to her delectable lips before she bites down on her bottom lip.

“It’s about this,” I say, my voice rough, already feeling her like a storm in my bloodstream.

And the second the words leave my mouth, we’re already there.

There’s no shock, no hesitation, just the inevitable pull of gravity as I close the last inches and kiss her like I’ve done a few times before, but never like this.

Not with the world on fire around us.

It’s not new. But it is deeper. Fiercer. Messier.

Her mouth meets mine in an instant. It’s as if she’s been waiting for permission to fall apart. She kisses me back, all teeth and tongue. One of her hands slides into my hair, tugging hard, the other fisting in my shirt, dragging me closer like she needs me under her skin.

I don’t hold back. I can’t. My hands dive into her hair, down her back, gripping like I’m trying to ground myself.

She melts into it, as if she’s been waiting just as long, her hands fisting in my shirt, pulling me closer until there’s no space left between us—no room for guilt, fear, or reason.

Just heat and need, and the sharp edge of everything we’ve been too stubborn to say.

I shift, pressing her more firmly against the side of the truck, one hand tangled in her hair, the other slipping to her waist, gripping tight, not wanting to lose her if I let go.

Her hips arch into mine, and for one white-hot second, I forget we’re standing in the middle of the desert.

I forget everything but the feel of her.

We know each other’s mouths too well to pretend this is just another kiss. This isn’t about attraction, it’s about survival. About needing to feel something that doesn’t hurt.

Our tongues meet in a clash of frustration and fury, a mess of too many emotions and not enough time. I kiss her deeper, slower, like I’m trying to tell her things I’ll never say out loud.

I’m still here.

I’m not leaving.

Not unless you make me.

The taste of her is wildfire, salt, anger, and something softer hidden underneath it all that makes my knees go weak.

It’s not just a kiss, it’s a reckoning. A line crossed. A fuse lit.

When we break apart for air, it’s not clean. It’s ragged. Torn. Her breath brushes my lips like a curse. My forehead drops to hers, both of us shaking from the impact.

“You ruin me,” I whisper against her lips.

The corner of her lips turns up. “Takes two to crash and burn, Presley.” She leans on her toes to kiss me again, then, suddenly, her phone rings.

The sound cuts through the desert silence, comparable to a gunshot, and we both jump apart like we’ve been electrocuted. Clover rushes for her phone, and her eyes go wide when she looks at the screen. “It’s Maverick,” she breathes.

My heart stops as she scrambles so fast, almost dropping her cell in the chaos to swipe the screen, putting it on speaker with trembling hands. “M-Mav?” Her voice cracks on his name.

“Clover?” Maverick’s voice comes through clear as day, and I’ve never been so relieved to hear another human being in my entire life. “Jesus, thank fuck. Where the hell have you two been? We’ve been trying to reach you for hours,” he states down the line.

Clover’s eyes meet mine, and they instantly well up as she bursts into tears. Not the angry, frustrated tears from before, but pure, overwhelming relief.

At the same time, I lean against the truck for the support I need right now. I hate to admit it, but I honestly thought the club was gone, and I had no fucking clue what the hell we were going to do.

I sure am glad to hear his voice.

“Are you okay?” Clover sobs into the phone. “Are you safe? Is everyone safe?”

“We’re fine,” Maverick chimes, his voice gentle in a way I’ve rarely heard. “We’re all fine, Clo. What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

“We thought—” She can’t finish the sentence, her tears overwhelming her ability to speak.

Weakly smiling, I take the phone from her. “Maverick, it’s Phoenix.”

“Phoenix, what the fuck’s going on? Why is my sister having a mental breakdown?”

I run a hand through my hair, trying to figure out how to best explain without sounding like a complete asshole.

“We’ve been trying to reach you since yesterday morning.

The sat phone died, our cells were out of range, and when we couldn’t get through to anyone…

” I leave the ending open to interpretation.

“You thought the Cartel had attacked,” Maverick finishes, understanding immediately.

“Yeah.”

He sighs heavily. “Shit. Sorry, man. The only reason we didn’t answer when you called is because Sadie and I were… well, occupied.”

Clover looks up at me through her tears, and I see her processing what that means.

“Occupied how?” I ask, though I’m not sure I want to know.

“Let’s just say we were both in the shower when you called and completely lost track of time,” Maverick states, and I hear the embarrassment in his voice. “By the time we saw the missed calls and tried to call the sat phone back, it wasn’t responding.”

Clover and I look at each other, both drawing the same conclusion.

Maverick and Sadie were in the shower fucking and didn’t hear our calls.

“Eww,” we say in unison, both screwing up our faces at the imagery attacking our brain cells.

Maverick chuckles. “Yeah, well, sorry for traumatizing you both. But everyone’s fine. The club’s fine. There’s been no sign of Cartel activity. We’re coming up with a plan of counterattack. Honestly, everything is okay, Clover. I promise.”

“So, we’re safe?” Clover asks, wiping at her eyes.

“You’re safe, little sis. We’re all safe.”

She lets out a long, shaky breath. “Well, that was a long, few anxious hours of my life I never want to repeat.”

I look at her tear-streaked face, think about the kiss we just shared, and about how we’ve both completely lost our shit in the past twenty-four hours.

“Yeah,” I agree. “Mav, you wanna stay on the line and talk to Clo for a bit. I think she needs to spend some time with her brother.”

Clover smiles up at me, reaches out and squeezes my hand, mouthing thank you as I hand her cell back to her.

“Yeah, I wanna hear all about the cool places you guys have seen. What’s been happening so far, Clo? Tell me all about it?” I hear Mav say as I walk off, needing a moment to myself.

Running my fingers through my hair, I draw in a deep breath as a soft ‘meow’ draws my attention, and I glimpse down, seeing Dracula circling my feet as I walk.

“You sure you wanna hang with us, lil’ dude?

We seem to be dramatic?” I say as I move to the edge of the road and plop down on my ass staring out over the desert, the sun is almost set now.

He nuzzles into my side, like he’s chosen a life of chaos with Clover and me.

So, I take a risk, moving my hand out to pet his head, and for the first time, the little shit doesn’t hiss at me.

Risking a glance over at Clover, I see her sitting in the passenger seat, talking to her brother, the biggest smile crossing her face as she chats happily, and I can’t help the warmth that engulfs me.

For the first time since this nightmare started, it doesn’t seem as if Vegas is the end of the world anymore. Maybe heading there will be the start of something exciting for Clover and me.

Dracula nuzzles into my side again, and I chuckle. “Yeah, okay, you’re not that bad. Let’s make a pact, you and me, cat. Let’s make sure Clo has the best time in Vegas, okay?”

Dracula glances up at me, his yellow eyes shining bright in the darkening light, and he nuzzles into my side again, a soft purr escaping him this time.

A slow smile hits the corner of my lips, and I nod. “I’ll take that as a yes.”