Rev by Jeanne St. James

Chapter Nineteen

“Who do you belong to?”

Before he got to answer, a noise had them both jerk into action. After separating quickly, Reilly jumped into the driver’s seat of her Kona and shut the door as quietly as she could.

He pulled off the full wrap, knotting the end and dropping it to the ground near her tire. He quickly yanked up his jeans, shrugged on his cut and gathered his belt and wallet, putting both of those back in place. His heart beat wildly as he did his best to do it all quietly, until whoever it was moved on.

He did not want to get caught with Reilly and he damn well didn’t want them to get caught together with their pants down. He could see her struggling to pull on her jeans while sitting in the driver’s seat. At least with the door closed, the view of her bare ass was blocked from prying eyes.

He waited a few more seconds and, sticking to the shadows, peered around the corner of the shed, looking for whoever it was.

A tall shadow moved through the darkness only a few feet from where Rev now stood. His jaw shifted and his blood began to boil at the thought of someone spying on them.

Rev stepped out from behind the corner of the shed to confront whoever it was. “Hey!”

The dark figure stopped, not at all acting surprised someone was back there. A telling sign. “Yo,” came the low grumbled response.

Scar.

Fuck.

Had he seen them? Had he seen Reilly naked from the waist down? Had he watched them while they fucked?

Rev’s fingers curled into tight fists, drawing on his common sense not to launch himself at the prospect and pound him into the ground.

“What are you doin’ out here?” he asked and waited for the prospect to throw the same question back at him. While it would be stupid on his part—a prospect should never question a patched member—Scar seemed to question shit he shouldn’t. He tended to have a “don’t give a fuck” attitude about most everything. That alone could get him in trouble with the club and law enforcement. Which was probably the reason he’d spent most of his adult life in prison.

But this time he didn’t boomerang the question back at Rev. Instead, the scarred man stared through the dark at Rev for longer than necessary—or even comfortable—before grunting, “Rounds.”

“What d’you mean rounds?” Rev walked toward Scar, in an attempt to draw him away from where Reilly was. He only hoped the woman would wait until Rev returned and gave her the all-clear before driving away.

“Judge wants all the prospects to take turns patrollin’ the area at night.”

This was news to him. He would check with Judge to make sure that was true and Scar wasn’t just being a peeping fucking Tom when it came to Rev fucking Reilly on the hood of her cage.

Because then there’d be a problem. Not only with Rev breaking one of the cardinal rules but between Scar and Rev. If the fucker was lying, there’d also be a problem between the club and prospect.

Three potential issues caused by one nosy motherfucker.

Rev decided to test the water. “What’d you see?”

“What d’you mean?” the man grumbled, turning to face Rev with his hands now planted on his hips. His head was cocked to the side and if it hadn’t been so dark out, Rev just bet his expression and his eyes held a challenge.

And the asshole had no right to challenge Rev. None at all.

“Exactly what I fuckin’ asked.” He repeated the question but slower this time speaking like Scar was too stupid to understand plain English. “What the fuck did you see?”

The ex-con’s hesitation was long enough to put a bitter taste in Rev’s mouth. “Didn’t see shit. Heard a commotion, came around the corner, saw a Fury cut and decided whoever it was had things covered.”

He was being a fucking smart ass by using the word “covered.” Scar was also lying about seeing Rev wearing his cut since he’d taken it off and turned it inside out and placed it on Reilly’s hood.

The problem was, if Rev made a big deal about it, Scar could run his fucking mouth and cause Rev a lot of grief. Just like when Scar kept challenging Rook about Jet. If Jet hadn’t belonged to Rook—even though no one knew it at the time—the former cop might have ended up dead and buried, never to be seen again. That’s how much Scar hated pigs. His hatred for law enforcement ran a lot deeper than most of the Fury members. It probably burned in his gut like acid.

But right now, Rev didn’t give a fuck. The man needed to go chew a Tums and get the fuck away from the shed before Reilly revealed herself.

“You got orders, then carry on with them,” Rev said quietly, but firmly, making sure the older biker knew who had the upper hand here. It wasn’t Scar.

The prospect had already crossed the line a few times. So far, those infractions had been forgiven. However, they hadn’t been forgotten. It wouldn’t take much more to get his prospect rocker stripped and send him on his merry way.

Problem solved.

But that didn’t mean Scar wouldn’t try to take Rev out the door with him. He could try to use the fact that Rev was banging someone on the “no fuck list” as leverage.

Fuck.

It was best to try to keep things between them civil. At least for now. Once he successfully claimed Reilly at the table all fucking bets were off.

If Trip assigned prospects to work with her in the new business, one of them better not be Scar. There was no fucking way she was working closely with that asshole.

He waited until Scar crossed the driveway, the courtyard and then disappeared into The Barn before turning and heading back to Reilly.

When he returned to her cage, she was fully dressed and outside the Kona, leaning against it, her arms crossed over her chest.

When he got closer, she asked, “Who was it?”

He considered lying to her and telling her it was no one so she wouldn’t worry but decided that might not be the smartest idea. “Scar.”

Her eyes went wide. “Shit. Did he see us?”

Now he needed to lie. “No. Said he was doin’ rounds.”

“Rounds?”

“Yeah, said Judge has the prospects now doin’ rounds to keep an eye out.”

“For what?”

Rev shrugged. “Shirleys? Someone breakin’ into the repo yard? Feds? Sasquatch? Probably anythin’ out of the ordinary.”

“Like someone on the ‘do not touch’ list getting bent over a car and fucked by someone who is supposed to be respecting that list. Do you think he saw me naked?”

“Doubt it. My bare ass was coverin’ yours. Unless he knows your cage, he wouldn’t even suspect it was you.”

She blew out a soft breath. “I hope not. Like I said, I’ll work on Reese.”

In the meantime, he’d make a plan to skip all of that and go directly to the source to plead his case. But for now, she could work on her sister until he could try his method. Her sister relenting would be the easy solution, him busting in on an exec meeting to confess to breaking a rule would be the more difficult and dangerous one.

He reached behind her and opened the driver’s door for her. She pushed off the rear of the car where she’d been leaning and before she could climb in, he stopped her. “Reilly…”

She hesitated and glanced over her shoulder.

“Wasn’t a mistake.”

“What wasn’t? The sex we just had?”

No, not the sex. The other thing. The words he’d said to her. The words she thought he said because he was drunk.

“All of it,” was how he answered.

She nodded, got into the Kona, started the engine and shifted into Reverse. Before she removed her foot from the brake, she powered down the window and poked out her head. “Hey, Rev.”

He lifted his head since he was busy buckling his belt. He hadn’t finished doing that in his rush to get dressed.

“In case you want to know… I feel the same.”

Then she drove away.

* * *

Rev swungthe ring of keys around his index finger as he strode through the parking lot of Dutch’s Garage and stepped through the open bay door. The truck’s test drive proved he repaired the problem the customer had complained about. Now he needed to drop the keys off in the office and help Reilly write up the invoice so she could call the customer and Dutch could get paid.

One more job down for the day. He had a state inspection on another vehicle to do yet, as well as an oil change, then he’d be caught up with the job orders on his clipboard.

As he had approached the garage, he noticed two older sleds—one formerly owned by Dutch—parked out front. When he headed toward the office, he heard male voices inside along with Reilly’s.

He paused just outside the office door, and out of sight, so he could listen for a few.

Castle and Bones.

He’d been relieved when he heard they’d be the prospects to work with Reilly on the new business and not Scar. At least, he wasn’t involved yet.

Reilly was sitting at her desk discussing the business plan she had written up and going over the training the two prospects would need once they both obtained their commercial driver’s licenses.

That was the first step. If they couldn’t pass their CDL tests, then they wouldn’t be able to help her by delivering and setting up the emergency housing wherever and whenever it was needed.

A couple of weeks ago, Rev had read over her business plan. He’d been impressed with how detailed and extensive it was, proving that she was smart as fuck and Trip had made the right decision to drop the new business into her lap.

Her being intelligent wasn’t a surprise since her sister Reese was wicked smart, too. Their parents might have sucked at actual parenting, but they’d given the women something worthwhile. Their smart genes.

Reese had filed all the paperwork required for the new business and two mobile homes the club financed were being delivered out to the farm in the next week.

Trip had the Amish come in, level the ground and spread stone to create a lot in a corner of one of the far fields to park the trailers until they were rented. He hoped to eventually fence it in to keep the empty trailers safe, but until they knew how many they’d end up with, he didn’t want to spend the money and have to turn around later and move or expand the fence line.

Yeah, Trip had a good head on his fucking shoulders when he wasn’t losing his damn temper. He’d also left the naming of the business up to Reilly. She decided to name it Shelter from the Storm after the Bob Dylan song, since it fit. The housing could be used after storm damage, fire, flooding, hurricane or a Godzilla attack. Or even to house a family while building a new home or renovating an old one. The prospects would drop it off on the property, set it up and go. Then the money would begin to flow.

Reilly was also looking to partner with an outfit that would provide furniture rental. In the meantime, she was working on getting much needed smaller household items, like linens, pots and pans, and more, they could rent for an extra fee. She eventually wanted to provide some furnished trailers so they could charge a higher monthly rent.

She had all kinds of good ideas and most of them she talked about late at night when they were both naked in her bed.

The enthusiasm for the business was catching and he was happy she was happy to be given something of her own to control. Shelter from the Storm was now her baby to raise. Trip handing over the reins to her showed his complete trust in her decision-making abilities.

The Fury president was right to trust her. She had a huge heart and was sharp. Between the two, she’d definitely make the business a success. When you scratched beneath the surface, she was almost as driven as her older sister. She just wasn’t so rigid about it.

He was proud of her.

So was Reese.

However, with Reilly getting caught up in getting the business off the ground, she hadn’t had time, or the energy, to work on Reese the past few weeks. That meant every time he went over to her apartment it was a gamble.

A monthly executive meeting was coming up, so if Reilly didn’t make any headway with her sister before that, Rev was stepping in and throwing himself on the committee’s mercy. He’d rather take that chance than getting discovered by accident and getting called out.

But he hadn’t warned her of his intentions yet. He put it off hoping she’d be successful with persuading Reese first.

Either way, something had to happen and it had to happen soon. Before the next club run, for sure. He would not go through another three- or four-hour long ride watching his woman plastered to another man’s back.

That was damn well never happening again.

He stepped into her office and all eyes turned his way.

“Do you need something, Rev?” she asked, keeping her expression neutral. Though, she casually raked her gaze over him from head to toe, with a slight rise of one eyebrow.

Yeah, he needed something. Her. That very minute, naked and bent over her desk.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t going to happen.

“Yeah. Got a sec? Need you to check somethin’ in the break room.” He lifted one of his eyebrows slightly, too, in a silent message.

She rolled her lips under for a second, then turned her attention back to the prospects sprawled in the two chairs facing her desk, doing the typical “manspreading.”

“Be right back,” she murmured.

Both Castle and Bones watched Reilly with more interest than Rev liked as she stood and came around her busy desk. He tossed the keys in his hand onto her desk and waited right inside the door, his eyes now on both men as Reilly stepped out.

Rev didn’t miss either of them focusing on her ass as she moved. He cleared his throat sharply, catching their attention, then stared at them both for a moment with his head tilted. “Don’t forget she’s gonna be your boss. Also don’t forget who the fuck she is and who you are. Right now, you ain’t even at the level of Cujo’s dog shit stuck to the bottom of her boot.”

Castle grinned, not taking any offense. “Can’t help but appreciate good rock-n-roll. Always been a music lover.”

Rev had no problem reading into the man’s words. “You can appreciate it but don’t fuckin’ disrespect it. Got it?”

Castle tipped his head in understanding. Rev glanced at Bones. “Yeah?”

Bones replied with a shrug. “She’s hard to ignore.”

“Don’t ignore her orders but do your fuckin’ best on the rest,” Rev advised as he walked out of the office and into the break room behind it, where Reilly made the pots of coffee that fueled everyone in the shop all day long and also where she dropped off the fresh donuts daily.

What the fuck were they going to do once she moved her office elsewhere?

How the fuck were they going back to stale M&Ms and black tar for breakfast after that? They all might die.

She couldn’t fucking leave. He’d need to convince her to remain in Dutch’s office instead of moving into one elsewhere. He’d help Dutch do an expansion to the building, if needed.

Keeping her close meant he could keep an eye on her.

It was selfish as hell, but he really didn’t give a fuck.

She was leaning against the little counter, both palms planted on the edge behind her. Her doing that pushed out her tits, making it more difficult to keep his hands off her than normal.

These last three weeks, it had been a struggle not to smack her ass at work every time she bent over, not to grab her by the back of the neck and pull her into him for a kiss, not to whisper dirty words into her ear in passing. They had to act like they always had prior to their week in Coatesville. That meant Reilly rode him just as hard as the rest of the guys by busting his balls and being her typical smart-ass self.

In turn, he rode her hard later at night in her bed.

“What do you need?” she asked again, this time with a wicked grin.

“You,” he answered simply. He leaned forward, grabbing one of the remaining donuts, and whispered in her ear, “Keep your door unlocked tonight. I’ll be over after dark.”

He really didn’t need to tell her that since she probably already expected him to show up. However, he needed a minute alone with her.

Again, selfish as fuck, but he was over it in a flash.

He tucked the donut between his teeth and grinned around it. He took a bite and then murmured around the sweet mouthful, “Think Bones got a boner starin’ at your ass.”

She reached up and wiped away some glaze caught on his lip with her thumb. He groaned when she tucked the thumb into her mouth and sucked it hard with her eyes locked on his.

“Gonna tap that ass tonight, so when you sit down tomorrow you remember who it belongs to,” he warned.

She slowly pulled her thumb from between her lips and reached up to pinch his cheeks together. “We’ll see, stud.”

“You betcha you’ll see,” he promised. “Wanna see that pretty little plug I bought you winkin’ back at me when I get there. I want you naked and ass up when I walk through that door.”

He’d bought her a jeweled butt plug. The jewel was green and matched her eyes. He surprised her with it, a little worried she’d get pissed and shove it up his own ass.

Instead of getting angry, she got excited when she opened the box. The way she acted, he would’ve sworn he had handed her an engagement ring.

Now every time he thought about her lubing it up and inserting it in preparation of him coming over, he instantly got hard.

Imagining her naked, on her knees and ass up with a green gem reflecting the light had already got him rock solid and ready to call it a day. Fuck the inspection and oil change. Those customers could wait.

He checked to make sure no one was sneaking around near the break room before saying, “Tonight’s gonna be the night I’m pullin’ that plug and replacin’ it with my dick. So be ready.”

Her breath caught and the hardening of her nipples became obvious through the fabric of the sleeveless blouse she wore while goosebumps swept over her skin.

“Rev,” she half-whispered, half-groaned.

He leaned closer again. “That’s right, babe, that’s the name you’re goin’ to be screamin’ later.”

Normally she’d roll her eyes, or even throw something at him, when he said shit like that. But this time her pupils expanded and she drove her teeth into her bottom lip. She was as turned on as he was.

Fuck yeah.

“Now, get outta here to gimme a sec so I can get my own hard-on under control.” He wasn’t sure he’d be successful since, for the rest of the work day, he would be distracted by the anticipation of what they’d be doing later.

He headed over to her apartment most nights and had been doing so ever since they’d returned from their trip. He’d park his sled at the garage after hours and hoof it on foot the short block to her place.

To avoid a recognizable pattern of behavior, they sometimes met in an abandoned parking lot at the other end of town or in a secluded wooded area off Copperhead Road. For the past three weeks, not one day had gone by where they hadn’t been together in some way or another, whether in her bed, in her cage, or even in a back room at the garage after hours.

But it was time to stop sneaking around. They’d been lucky so far but their luck wouldn’t hold out forever. He wanted to get ahead of any future problems.

Especially since he preferred not to become a piñata that didn’t spill candy and delight children when cracked open.