Page 17 of Pope’s Purgatory

She closes her eyes for a second, causing my fingers to tighten around her throat as I notch my cock against her opening.

Birdie opens them again and gives me a sad smile. Her fingers lift to my cheek. “I know. I need you, too.”

I glide into her, slowly letting out a hiss as her heat engulfs me. My eyes drop to where she stretches around me so prettily.

Fuck, that’s beautiful.

My eyes drift back to her flushed face. “I fucking love you, Birdie. Need you to always remember that.”

Her brows furrow, my words confusing her. Before she gets a chance to speak, I twist my hips in the way she likes, and her eyes roll back with a loud moan.

For the next little bit, we lose ourselves to each other.

The chaos, the fighting, the threats, and the plan all fade as I bury myself inside her.

There’s time to face all of that, but right here, right now, I’m going to be a selfish fuck and steal whatever she lets me have before she hates me.

My eyes seek out Birdie once again to find her chatting with Rox and Valkyrie, a water in her hand. I’ve not been able to pull my attention from her since we arrived at the clubhouse, something that’s not going unnoticed by my brothers. They catch the way she shoots me small smiles and the way I wink at her in return. We are who we were before all this Steel Slayers shit started and it’s concerning them.

But fuck . . .

She looks so fucking beautiful when she’s smiling and happy. It’s been weeks since I’ve seen it on her, and it’s hard to do anything to mess with that.

A body stops beside me, and when I glance over, it’s to find Malice staring at me with worry.

“You know,” he starts, causing me to tense, “she’s never going to believe it if you keep acting like everything is okay between you. She knows you, Pope. She knows you’d never fucking cheat on her. Especially not when you’re looking at her like she’s the only damn thing you see.”

“She is,” I mutter, taking a sip of my beer.

Malice lets out a growl. “This is your stupid plan, so you better fucking making sure she believes it when it goes down, Prez. I’m not okay with hurting her if it’s not going to protect her.”

He stomps away before I have a chance to respond. Fuck. I know he’s right, but all I want to do is steal her away from all this shit. In this moment, it makes me a shitty fucking President, but the thought of hurting her is like knives stabbing into my heart repeatedly.

I can’t take her away from it all, but I can take her away from this club for the night, so that’s what I do.

Marching over, I grab her hand and pull her with me out of the clubhouse and to my bike.

“Pope, what the hell are you doing?”

“Come with me? Please?”

“To where?”

I open my mouth to tell her anywhere when the doors open and my brothers all file out behind me, some with their partners, some without. They all head to their bikes, each of them squeezing my shoulder and running their hand over Birdie’s head as they pass.

My brows lift, trying to figure out what the fuck is going on, when Cyanide steps up beside me with his sister at his side. “We thought we’d all go for a ride. Val is riding with me.”

I swallow hard, realizing it’s not just me who needs time with Birdie before shit goes down. They all do, and I’d be a huge fucking disappointment as a President if I didn’t give it to them. What surprises me most is that Gavel is here, waiting patiently and silently beside his bike. For the first time since we lost Mad Dog, it’s my grandfather staring back at me with understanding and compassion and not the soulless man he’s become since he lost the love of his life.

Peering down at Birdie, I let loose a small smile. “Fancy a ride with our family?”

Worry flashes in her eyes, but she nods, her lips curving. “Always.”

For the next few hours, we ride across Florida, stopping at places where Birdie wants to take pictures.

“Memories,” she says, as if she knows that’s what we’re all going to be left with.

We all joke, we laugh, we fucking ride, but what we really do is love these fucking women with all we have while we can, because come tomorrow, everything fucking changes.

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