Mason (Iron Reapers MC #1)

Chapter 13

THIRTEEN

CARLIE

The sun dips lower, casting a golden glow over the field as the charity ride winds down. Faces around me are flushed with joy and exertion, filled with satisfaction from a day well spent. I catch Mason's dark eyes on me, a storm of emotions swirling within them. Pride, or maybe something deeper.

"Hey," he says, his voice low, pulling me aside. "You were amazing today."

"Thank you." I smile up at him, feeling warmth fill my chest. "It felt good... being a part of all this."

"More than just a part, Carlie," he insists, his thumb brushing a smudge of dirt off my cheek. "You were the heart of it. I can’t tell you how many people came up to me and told me how much you helped out."

I blink, surprised by the intensity of his words, the raw sincerity in his gaze. "Mason?"

"Yeah, Darlin'?"

"Today meant a lot to me." My hands run over his chest then down the sides of his cut. "Being here, with you, with them—it's like I found where I'm supposed to be."

"Same here, Carlie. Same here." His arms envelop me, and I can feel the reverberations of his voice as he speaks into my hair. "You’re not just some chick for the moment. You're it for me. The long haul. Ride or die and all of it."

I pull back enough to see his face, searching his dark eyes for truth. I find it there, shining back at me clear as day. "Really? This soon? So fast?"

"Really," he confirms, his lips curving into a rare, genuine smile. "As corny as it sounds, I knew when I laid eyes on you the night you walked into Perdition. You weren’t just some chick that made my dick rock hard, you are everything I was missing in myself. Iron Reapers, babe. We're family—and I want you riding shotgun with me. Forever."

"Forever sounds perfect," I whisper, leaning into his kiss, a promise made without words but felt with every fiber of our beings. In his embrace, surrounded by the roar of engines and the laughter of newfound friends, everything clicks into place.

We're more than just two hearts lost on the highway, we're home.

The roar of the engine vibrates through me, a rhythm that matches the steady thrumming of my heart. I cling to Mason, the leather of his cut warm against my palms, as we weave through the twilight back to the Iron Reapers' clubhouse. The road beneath us is a familiar path now, one that feels like it's been etched into my soul.

"Feels right, doesn't it?" Mason's voice cuts through the wind, barely audible over the rumble of his bike.

"Like coming home," I yell back, and I mean every word. The air is cooler now, but the warmth from Mason's body is all the comfort I need.

We pull into the club's gravel lot, the sound of our arrival announcing us like a declaration. My legs are shaky as I dismount, not from fear but from an adrenaline high I doubt will go away anytime soon. Mason's hand finds mine, his grip solid and reassuring.

"Ready for this?" he asks, eyeing me with a look that says he already knows the answer.

"Born ready," I smile.

The clubhouse doors swing open, and music hits us like a wave. We're sucked into the whirlwind of celebration. I stick close to Mason, feeling his presence beside me like a shield.

"Mason!" someone hollers, raising a beer in salute. He nods, his arm never leaving my waist.

"Your old lady sure can ride," another chimes in, and I feel my cheeks flush with pride.

"Damn straight," Mason growls, his pride evident even in those two words.

“I’ll be right back,” I tell him, then navigate my way through the sea of bodies toward the bathroom. When I return, my eyes instantly find Mason. He stands tall and unmovable, a pillar among the chaos. Only, there's a woman wearing too little clothes, batting her eyelashes at him, and leaning in closer than necessary. Mason's face is impassive, his disinterest clear as day.

"Mason!" I call out, and his head snaps up. His eyes light up, a spark that's saved just for me. The way he looks at me does something crazy inside me. I can’t help but grin as he steps away from the woman and meets me halfway.

“A fan?” I ask, jealousy coming out strong even though he gave me no reason to doubt him. Hell, his reaction told me everything I needed to know. Doesn’t stop the insecurities from popping up though.

His arm snakes around my waist, pulling me into his side and bites my ear lobe before sucking it into his warm mouth. “Don’t be jealous Darlin', she’s got nothing I want because she’s not you,” He rasps into my ear. Damn, and he knows just how to make me melt.

He pulls me back over to where he was standing with Dagger and Tank. “Amber, have you met my old lady, Carlie, yet?” This is the first time he’s introduced me as his old lady and it does something funny to my insides.

"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 every corner 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.