Page 18 of Royal Sons MC

Ivy shook her head, tears leaking down her cheeks.

“This Darian, he was important to Luke?” King asked, his hand balling into a fist. Control, he needed to get his shit back under control. Ivy’s dark head nodding up and down pissed him off. “Why did he hide what was essentially his life?” he breathed loudly.

“He loved you both, worshipped you. He just...he was scared.” Ivy lifted her hand, placing it on top of his.

“Tymber, sorry you got pulled in the way you did. I know how stubborn this one is, and one of my guys said he’d seen you two together on several occasions. I took a chance, and, well shit, here we are.”

King could see the war raging in Tymber’s eyes. On one hand, he knew the bastard wanted to punch him, yet he also didn’t want to show too much disrespect. He put his other hand over Ivy’s. “You two get out of here. I’ve got some things to take care of, but Ivy,” he said, waiting until she met his stare. “You’re still family. You’ll always be family.”

Ivy’s chin wobbled, and more tears flowed from her eyes. “Thanks, King.”

He sat back, waving his hand, and dismissed her and Tymber. However, the man didn’t seem to be mollified. “You got something to say?” King raised one brow.

Tymber leaned down so he was on the same level as King. “What happened tonight wasn’t cool, but I know you did what you felt was right. Next time you want a meet and greet with me, call first. I don’t like having my chain jerked, especially by someone I liked and respected.”

“That sounds past tense, Tymber. I suppose I owe you an apology?”

He grinned as time ticked by. Frog and Groot shuffled their boots in the ensuing silence.

“Was that your apology?” Tymber asked, pulling Ivy into his side.

“That’s as good as you’re going to get. Now get the fuck out of here. Ivy, don’t be a stranger, girl.”

When the two walked out, he speared his prospects with a glare. “Now, let’s talk, boys, shall we?”

TYMBER WALKED OUT WITHIvy under his arm. He was shocked to see so many standing around, waiting outside for whatever they were anticipating happening. He’d be damned if it was a show of him getting his ass kicked.

“I suggest you stand the fuck down,” Tymber warned.

“Let them through, King’s orders.” Traeger moved away from the crowd, coming into the circle they’d formed around Tymber and Ivy, speaking loudly enough he could be heard over the murmurs.

“I’ll follow you, Ivy.” Tymber didn’t take his eyes off Traeger.

His breath stalled in his throat as she did what he said. He then proceeded to where he’d parked his bike, happy to see they hadn’t fucked it up. “Thanks for the hospitality.” Tymber fired his motorcycle up, moving it backward by using his feet. The red lights from Ivy’s Bronco flashed, showing Tymber she was stopping. He lifted two fingers, saluting Traeger before he followed Ivy. Fuck, his damn heart was near to bursting. Usually, he’d go for a long ride and get his head on straight. Instead, he followed Ivy as they rode out of the driveaway. A mile or so down the road, her Bronco swerved to the right, coming to a jarring stop on one of the scenic lookouts that dotted the highway. He let his bike come to a rolling halt next to her rig, waiting until she glanced his way. In his hurry to follow, he hadn’t put his helmet on. Usually, that would’ve been his first move. Now, he set the stand down after turning the key. The cool night air ruffled his hair while he sat, waiting for her to look his way.

When her head turned, and those eyes that were so green he swore he could get lost in them met his, he knew right then that he’d fallen in love for the first time. He dismounted the bike with ease, moving toward her. The driver’s door flung open, and he found himself holding onto a sobbing Ivy.

“You fool,” she whispered.

Tymber palmed the back of her head. “Is that all you’re gonna say?”

Ivy stood on her toes, her body shaking, not from cold, but the release of tension, he was sure. “They could’ve killed you.”

Gripping a handful of her hair in his fist, he ensured she couldn’t look away. “You shouldn’t have followed us.”

Ivy slapped his chest once, twice, three times, and then her hands went around his neck, pulling him down to her. “I will always follow you.”

He looked around them. Stars lit the night with the moon’s soft glow, creating a stunning landscape. In the still of the moment, he bent, taking her lips in a kiss that was a claiming. She was his, and he’d make damn sure nobody else could hurt her.

The need for oxygen had him breaking away from her lips, her arms around his neck squeezed. “We need to go before my body overtakes my mind, and I end up doing something stupid, like fucking you where we stand,” he muttered, kissing her again because he could do nothing else.

“I don’t care where we are. I want you now.” She released her hold, wriggling until he dropped his arms. Staring transfixed at the sight before him, he swore he was in heaven as her top was pulled over her head and then tossed aside. Her eyes held him spellbound while her fingers unsnapped her bra, giving him a glimpse of the perfect mounds while she peeled one side back and then the other, her shoulders rolling helped her remove the scraps of silk and lace.

“Fuck, you’re gonna kill me.” Honesty, he’d die happily if he was buried inside Ivy.

She unsnapped the button on her jeans. The sound of her zipper going down excited the fuck out of him. For too many nights, he’d fantasized about seeing all of her laid out before him. Again, he looked around the clearing. “Wait,” he ordered, stopping the shimming she was doing to get the tight as fuck denim off. He scooped her off the ground and carried her around to the passenger side, opening the door with one hand while still holding her with the other. Slowly, he let her slide down his front, the sweet sensation of her hard little nipples scraping against his shirt-covered chest.

He had yet to show her his scars from the removal of the cancer and the surrounding tissue. Hell, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever told her the extent of his fight. It was a fight he won and was at the five-year mark, meaning he was considered cancer-free, not in remission, but in the clear.

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