Page 43 of Brood

Chapter Thirty-Six

The halls are quiet as I walk down them, only the echo of my shoes tapping along the floor accompany me. I must have fallen asleep after Brood left, maybe even before he got out the door. It hasn’t been very long, maybe two hours? I decided to go back down to the kitchen to find Brook and Kasin. As I walk along the empty halls, I notice a small row of lockers still left over from the time this place was a school. The lockers have names on them. The men’s names. Some of them I recognize, others I don’t. There are a total of six rooms up here, one of them belonging to Brood. My cheeks heat as I take the steps downstairs, what happened only hours ago has me thinking of what will come tonight. I’m so lost in my daydream that I don’t even notice the man coming up the stairs in a huff. I do remember him, I think his name was Luck?

“Must have a sweet tasting pussy to have that fucker ready to go to war for you,” he mumbles as he passes me on the stairs. I’m so stunned I almost don’t even respond.

“Excuse me?”

“He just gets his patch, a fucking patch that he doesn’t deserve, and his first order of business is to take in some stray just so he can get his dick wet. Fuck that,” he hisses, narrowing his dark eyes at me. “No fucking woman is worth what your fucking daddy’s club is going to do to us.”

“I—” The words I try to speak are suddenly lodged in my throat. It doesn’t matter because in my next breath, I hear the thundering of heavy footsteps coming up the stairs right before someone slams into Luck with a heavy thud.

“What the fuck did you say to her motherfucker?” Brood’s anger echoes around the halls as he holds his club brother against the wall with no mercy.

“Just speaking the truth. No bitch is worth it. Not even one with a golden pussy.” Luck’s words earn him a hard jab to his ribcage that causes all the air to be pushed from his lungs. He doesn’t even get a chance to regain his breathing before Brood is taking the opportunity of Luck being doubled over and pummeling his face in.

There is an array of activity as I’m shoved out of the way, by who I don’t know, and Brood is being pulled off Luck’s bloodied face by a few of the guys. “Pres, he’s done, come on,” someone says, holding back Brood when he tries to break free and go at Luck again, who only grins at Brood with a bloodied smile. Taunting him further.

“You’re done!” Brood shouts, pointing at Luck. “Get your shit and get the fuck out of my clubhouse!”

If Luck is upset with Brood’s decree, he doesn’t let on. Instead, he bows his head. “With pleasure… Pres.” Grinning, he straightens up and continues up the stairs to get his stuff, I’m sure. One of the men that were holding him back follows behind Luck as he continues on up the steps. It’s then Brood’s flaming eyes find me, instantly cooling.

“Did that fucker touch you?” Brood shrugs off his brothers, still holding him back as he comes toward me, glancing over my shoulder. It’s then I remember someone had pulled me away from the scuffle. My head turns that way too, finding Roman next to me.

“No. He was just being an asshole.” Brood takes my hands in his, standing back and holding them out as if to assess my condition for himself. “I’m fine, really. My skin has grown thick over the years. I can take some harsh words.” I give a half-smile to try and defuse the situation. It doesn’t help much.

“Make sure he is escorted the fuck out of here. When shit passes, we will figure out what the fuck to do about him.” Brood directs his instruction toward Roman, who still hasn’t moved.

“Sure thing Brood. Might want to take her elsewhere. I’m sure he’ll be back down soon. I rather not have to break up another fight.” Brood nods in agreement, tugging on one of my hands while he lets the other go.

I follow him down the steps and through another hall, the one that comes to a T, one path leading to the cafeteria the other to the shop. Only we don’t go either way. Instead, he stops by a door next to his office and opens it up, bringing us both inside. It’s the door I saw him and Sage disappear through, right before the outburst between Pria and Roman. It’s small, with one wall dedicated to monitors showcasing various areas outside the clubhouse.

“Surveillance room. I want to make sure that prick leaves the perimeter and stays the fuck away,” Brood explains as he watches over each and every screen. I let him be, knowing that he won’t calm down until Luck is a fair distance away from us. There is a rolling chair in front of the wall of screens that he doesn’t take advantage of. Instead, he stands, arms crossed tightly over his chest.

Along the opposite wall is a worn leather couch that I decide to wait on. The still soft leather is welcome as I take a seat and glance around the small space. There isn’t much on the walls. A couple maps. One of a larger part of the area and one closer up of just the town.

The quiet seems to stretch on for far too long until Brood lets out a long breath. “Finally, motherfucker,” he mumbles then turns from the monitors to face me. “He’s gone.”

“Okay.” I’m not sure what else to say. I don’t want Brood to kick out one of his brothers because of me. Because honestly some of what he said… “He was sort of right on some accounts. I mean, why should the club protect me?”

“Damn it,” Brood hisses, and comes the few steps it takes to reach me. His heavy paw smacks his chest. “Mine, Jordyn. Because you are mine.”

“I don’t—”

“No. You said it this morning, remember? You can’t take it back now.” With that he drops to his knees right between my own, his palms running up the length of my bare thighs until they reach my jean shorts. His thumbs hook underneath the denim, pushing up further until they reach my panty line, making me gasp. My shirt has ridden up and he takes advantage with his mouth pulling at the hem with his teeth to further its direction. Then he is kissing me softly along the waist of my shorts, nipping at them to pop open the button.

My fingers thread through his hair pulling at the strands as they drift through my grip. “I won’t. I won’t take it back.” The words fall from my mouth somewhere between a whisper and a hiss.

“Better fucking believe it, baby,” he growls, and suddenly I’m being pulled forward by my hips and my shorts, along with my panties, are tossed aside. “So fucking mine,” he declares right before he descends down onto my exposed flesh. He lavishes me as if there will be no tomorrow, as if to punctuate how much he means it when he tells me who I belong to. I’ve been told this before, that I belong to someone, that I am theirs. Only this time it doesn’t seem the same when Brood says it. It’s not as if he actually believes he owns me. It’s more of a you are mine, I am yours declaration. Like he is saying that with me being his, he also belongs to me.

Mind, body, and soul.

My back arches off the couch as he continues the lashings with his tongue. This isn’t the sweetness I got from him before, this is the carnal side of Brood. The side he’s been holding back, possibly afraid to show me too soon. I’m so close I can almost feel my eyes roll back in my head when he suddenly stops. I don’t even get a chance to protest because I’m being lifted into strong arms as my back connects harshly with the wall. I let out a hiss that’s accompanied by the sound of a zipper being ripped open. The hiss quickly turns into a gasp as Brood’s thick cock drives into me with no remorse. “Fuck,” he curses in my ear, burrowing his scruffy beard into the crook of my neck, scratching along the suddenly sensitive skin as he does. “What you do to me, Jor. Fucking hell, what you do to me,” he rasps into me, sucking and kissing between words. My legs tighten around him as that impending orgasm slowly starts to build again.

“Don’t stop.”

“Not fucking ever,” he promises and picks up his pace, if that is even possible. His hands drift from my hips up to my shirt, ripping it away in one loud tear giving him more access to my skin. It’s then he suddenly pauses, eyes flashing down to the still pink scar on my stomach. “I will never stop Jor.” The promise is so much more than what is happening in this moment. His thumb trails along the B of Butch’s name. “That fucker will never touch you again.” A tear slowly drops from my eye and he leans in to lick it off my cheek. “I got you.”

“I know,” I whisper back to him as he picks up his pace once again.

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