Man of the House(211)

“And a bunch of tiny little cocks,” Spoil added, grinning.

I turned away from the show, not interested anymore. I headed over to the bar and found a towel. I stripped off my jacket and shirt, tossing them aside, and wiped the blood from my face.

I knew what was going to happen now, and it wasn’t something I needed to be a part of. The Rebels would be herded into the back room and interrogated one at a time. Any man that seemed disloyal or angry would be killed on the spot, and the rest would be made pledges. Eventually we’d probably pick up a bunch of new, hardened recruits.

And that would do everything for this war. Maybe a lot of death and suffering had to happen first, but we’d won this little battle.

Our numbers were swelling. We were stronger by an entire club now.

I grabbed a bottle and poured myself a whisky. Before I could drink it, someone walked up beside me.

“Got one of those for me?”

I grinned and turned. Janine was standing there, smiling at me, still wearing that fucking sexy wedding dress.

“Sure, princess,” I said, pouring her a drink. “You deserve it.”

“I saw what happened,” she said softly. “I’m glad he’s dead.”

“Worked out,” I said.

“Think the Rebels will really join us?”

“Some will. Some won’t. We’ll work it out. But the important thing is, it’s over.”

“To Jetter, may he rot in fucking hell,” she said. We clinked glasses and drank.

She put her glass down on the bar and stepped toward me. “Clutch, listen—” she started to say, but I stopped her. I grabbed her by the hips and pressed her against me, kissing the girl hard on the mouth.

She kissed me back without hesitation.

Fuck, nothing ever tasted sweeter in my whole life. Not whisky, nothing. I wanted her, and finally I could have her in front of everyone without any second thoughts.

There was no hesitation in me, not a single ounce of it. The girl was mine. Janine was fucking mine, and I was going to take her right then and there.

We broke the kiss off.

“You’re mine now. You know that?” I said to her.

“I know,” she said. “I love you.”

“I love you.”

“I witness this claim.”

I looked over and saw Larkin grinning at us.

Janine stepped back. “Dad,” she said.

“It’s okay,” he said. “Don’t act like I didn’t already fucking know this was happening. You two aren’t exactly subtle.”

I laughed. “Why didn’t you stop it?”

“Didn’t think I needed to. You did your job well, Clutch.”

She shook her head, smiling. “I can’t believe you.”

“Looks like you’re claimed by me now,” I said to her, pulling her against me again.

“Calm down, you two,” Larkin said. “We have a lot of work to do.”

“Yeah, we do,” I said, “but it’ll be easier now.”

I didn’t know when Larkin walked away, because I was too busy kissing Janine like my life fucking depended on it.

My hands were still practically stained with Jetter’s blood, and there were a bunch of men out in the world who still wanted our heads, but none of that seemed to matter in this moment.

I was finally with her. We could cut through all the bullshit, all the confusion and the anger, and finally just be what we wanted to be.

Janine was what I wanted. She knew me, understood me better than anyone. She was stronger than she realized, full of fire and fury, not to mention how hard she made my fucking cock whenever she was around.

As I kissed her in the clubhouse, I knew I’d always want her around. I’d kill for her, again and again if I had to, without a second thought.

Because she was mine.

I’d claimed her, and I’d make right by her.





Epilogue: Janine





Fourteen months later





I laughed, fumbling in the dark for his belt.

“Fuck I’m starving,” Clutch said, pushing me back. “Forget that. I want this sweet pussy.”

“Shh,” I said. “You’ll wake Ryan up.”

“I think you’re the one who needs to work on being quiet.” He pushed me back onto the bed, and I landed, giggling, as he pulled down my panties, tossing them aside.

His lips found my neck, kissing me softly, his hands between my legs, working my soaked clit. “I think about this all fucking day long,” he said in my ear.

“Me too,” I whispered.

His lips moved down my neck and down my breasts. He dropped down onto his knees and spread my legs wide, his mouth pressed against my clit.

Pleasure rocked through me as he began to suck my clit, licking me and eating me ferociously. It’d been almost a day since he’d last touched me like this, and that was too long. Clutch had been out on a job with the club, and I had been back at home taking care of our little son, Ryan. He was four months old, and it was a miracle when we could get him down for a nap. Ryan was just like his daddy, full of energy.