Page 11 of Mason

“Food’s on!” Dagger hollers.

His words are like ice water, pulling us apart. She turns and looks up at me sheepishly. I could be wrong, but I don’t think she’s ever been this open sexually before. Knowing I’m the one to bring it out of her is intoxicating.

SEVEN

CARLIE

"Never thoughtI'd see someone like you at one of these things," Dagger's gravelly voice cuts through the noise.

"Me neither," I admit, a half-smile tugging at my lips. I stand beside him, watching his tattooed hands expertly flip a sizzling burger. "But here I am."

"Here you are," he echoes, flipping the patty onto a bun with a practiced flick of his wrist. He leans back against the picnic table, one corner of his mouth pulling up. "Mason's got a knack for bringing in the unexpected."

"Is that what I am?" I ask. "Unexpected?"

"Damn straight." The edges of his eyes crinkle. "Most don't waltz into our world without fear. You got guts, Darlin'."

Embarrassed, I grab a beer from the cooler and pop the cap. "So, tell me about this world. What's it really like, being an Iron Reapers member?"

"It's more than just riding, it's living by your own rules. But it's also about the guy next to you, the bond." he starts, gaze drifting to a point beyond the fire. "Like Mason, he's more than our Pres. He's the glue that keeps this brotherhood from unraveling."

I sip my beer, absorbing his words. "He talks about loyalty a lot, but it's more than just a word to you all, isn't it?"

"Damn right," Dagger confirms, his nod solemn. "It's the code we live by. Loyalty is what gets us through the shitstorms. Betray that, you betray everything we stand for."

"Has anyone ever—" I pause, wondering if I should ask, if I have the right to know something that seems so personal.

"Betrayed us?" The hardness in his eyes is unnerving. "Yeah. And they paid the price. We protect our own, and God help anyone who crosses that line."

"Sounds intense," I murmur.

"Intense, yeah." Dagger softens slightly, catching my gaze. "But there's freedom in it too. Out on the road, wind in your face, brothers at your back—there's nothing like it."

"Must be nice," I say, more to myself than to him, the idea of such unbridled freedom sparks something deep within. I’ve always been the good girl, doing what I’m told and following a narrow path. Coloring outside the lines is wrong and being wild has always been a sin.

"Nice isn't the half of it." Dagger says, offering me a genuine smile. "Stick around, Carlie. You might just get a taste of it yourself."

"Maybe I will," I reply, my heart thrumming with the possibility as I look at the flickering flames, the smoke carrying away whispers of a life I’m only beginning to understand.

The laughter and chatter of the Iron Reapers grow as the night goes on. I stand at the edge of it all, the warmth from the bonfire brushing against my skin, casting golden light on the faces around me. They're not just a club, they're a family, forged in the fires of loyalty and rebellion.

"Never seen anything like it," I murmur to myself, watching as one of the bikers slaps another's back, roaring with laughter over a shared joke.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" Mason says in a low rumble behind me, his breath a hot whisper. Before I can turn, his strong arm bands around my waist, and I'm pulled backward into the solid wall of his chest. His lap cradles me like I belong there, and maybe I do.

"Mason—" My protest dies on my lips as his mouth finds the tender skin of my neck, dropping kisses that sear straight through to my core. My pulse races, betraying my craving for more of his touch, more of him. Beneath me, I feel him harden, a silent promise of what's to come.

"I want to show you something," he murmurs, his words laced with an edge of desire that matches my own.

"Where?" My voice is barely above a whisper.

"Somewhere private." He stands, lifting me effortlessly with him, and strides toward his bike, that aura of danger and charisma never faltering, even in the simplest actions.

A few minutes later we are out of the compound and on the open road. The ride is a blur, the roar of the engine melding with the pounding of my heart. We climb higher, away from the lights of the clubhouse until we eventually reach a lookout that reveals the world stretched out below us.

Mason helps me off the back of his bike, my legs shaking as I follow him to the look out. We lean our arms on the bars, holding us back from falling below.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Mason's voice cuts through the silence, but his eyes are on me, not the impeccable view.

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