Page 23 of Mason

"Hi," I say, extending a hand she doesn't take. Instead she turns her nose up at me and turns back to Mason, like she doesn’t believe what he just told her.

“Mason, stop playing around and come dance with me baby.”

"Amber was just leaving," Mason states, more fact than suggestion.

"Actually, I—" Amber starts, but stops short as Mason cuts her off.

“Get the fuck out of here and don’t step foot back in Perdition or the Iron Reapers compound. Disrespect Carlie again and I’ll make sure everywhere in Jackson is off limits to you.”

“Ss-so-sorry, Mason. Sorry Carlie,” she says then turns on her heel and disappears into the crowd.

"Old lady, huh?" I tease, looking up at Mason.

"Got a problem with that?" he challenges, a dangerous glint in his eye.

"Never," I say, standing on my tiptoes to plant a kiss on his lips, sealing the deal. Mason's arms tighten around me, and just like that, we're not two separate entities anymore. We're part of something bigger, something that feels like destiny. Family. Home. Forever.

The thump of the bass vibrates through my body as I weave through a sea of leather and ink. The clubhouse air is thick with the scent of booze and sweat, raw energy pulsating in everycorner of Perdition. It’s late, and with alcohol flowing through me my inhibitions are slipping.

"Damn," I mutter under my breath as I watch a man, part a woman’s thighs and lick her pussy. He pulls her top down as her tits spill out. Her head is thrown back in bliss and her hands massage her heavy breast. A part of me blushes crimson, but another, deeper part thrills at the sight – a primal curiosity stirring within me. Another brother sucks one of her nipples into his mouth as he brushes her hand aside and twists her other nipple.

I feel his stare before I see him—Mason, watching me with those dark eyes that miss nothing. He's a force, a storm of a man, and he's focused entirely on me.

"Like what you see?" he growls, pulling me close on the dance floor.

"Mason," I breathe, my heart hammering against my ribs. Is he mad that I was watching?

"Let's give 'em something to talk about," he murmurs, lips brushing my ear. We sway to the music as he kisses down my neck to my cleavage. Jesus, how far is he going to go. Dropping to his knees he grips my hips and puts his head at my pussy. Through hooded eyes, I watch the man I’ve fallen in love with touch me in front of everyone. He runs the tip of his nose along the seam of my jeans, before rubbing his thumb back and forth until I’m moving against his hand. I’ve never been as turned on as I am at this moment. I have no idea who sees, because I’m focused on him, and only him.

"Can't wait any longer, Carlie," Mason rasps, voice rough with desire.

Suddenly, I'm airborne, his strong arms lifting me effortlessly. Fireman-style over his shoulder, the world tilts as I'm carried away from prying eyes. We burst into his room the door slamming shut behind us.

"Mason—" My protest dies as he pins me against the wall, his hands rough as they tear at my clothes.

"Nothing between us ever again," he declares, his tone brooking no argument.

The cool air kisses my bare skin just moments before he does, claiming me with a possessiveness that obliterates thought. His body aligns with mine, powerful and insistent. When he enters me, it's with a fierceness that speaks of unbreakable bonds, of eternal claims.

"Mine, Carlie. Always," he grunts, each thrust a punctuation to his claim.

"Yes," I gasp, the world narrowing to the sensation of him, the sound of our union filling the room.

"I love you," he confesses, voice strained with emotion and effort. It's raw, it's real, and it's everything.

"Love you too," I manage, clinging to him as we chase the edge together.

We're two halves of a whole, hearts beating in tandem, souls entwined amid the chaos of our lives. Here in his arms, I find my home. In this wild world of bikers and loyalty, of freedom and passion, I've found where I belong. With Mason. Forever.

FOURTEEN

MASON

I’d heardthe stories about Walker before, but hearing the guys lay it out like that—like he was some kind of ghost in the night—made my blood run cold. He wasn’t just after power; he was out for blood, and he didn’t care whose it was. It didn’t matter if they were enemies or people who just happened to get in his way. Hell, some of them were innocent. And the club? We were right in his crosshairs. It wasn’t just rumors anymore; he’d already taken out a few people who crossed him, left them dead in alleys or dumped in ditches.

Carlie must’ve overheard us talking last night. I didn’t realize she was around, hiding somewhere in the bar while we swapped intel. Walker was planning something big, and we knew it. The tension was thick enough to choke on, but we acted like it was just another day in the life. It wasn’t. The club had faced threats before, but nothing like the Vipers MC. He wasn’t just trying to rattle us—he was trying to take us down and wipe us out completely.

We were so wrong when we thought the Vipers MC were just another group of guys playing at being bikers. Hell, maybe theywere, but Walker isn’t. He’s a monster, one we need to snuff out before things get any worse.

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