Chapter Forty-Three

His hands massage my shoulders as I feel his scent penetrate my nostrils. Darian nods to Mads and finally looks at me with an intense gaze. The smile on his lips is so real that it gives me goosebumps. He just turns around with his cup in his hand and starts talking loudly to other members of his motorcycle club. It seemed crazy, but my vague knowledge of the subject told me that places and organizations like this were more than common. Money drove everything, and people were often willing to do anything for it. Darian seemed to be a lover of money and power, his face showed his advanced age, and deep inside I knew it, but I still wondered: What had he built up all these years? And how? Who are these people? Who is Mads?

"Don't pay too much attention to what Darian says, he usually likes to scare rather than bite." I hear his whispered voice close to my ear, his fingers sneaking along the skin of my neck. His touch has the right effect on my body, I try not to close my eyes, but it seems that my body knows that seeing the darkness can intensify this feeling.

"It's time to take those who don't bite seriously." Mads purrs softly against my back and it's inevitable that I reflexively don't spread my legs. "In a way, they leave a mark."

"I'm the only one who'll leave a mark on you." He says, and I smell the faint scent of beer, not as strong as Darian's, but more subtle. I smile and swallow.

"How much did you drink?"

"Just two sips." My silence in response expresses my suspicion.

"Do you think I need to drink to tell you these things? Haven't I proven enough to you?"

At this point I was breathing heavily under the effect of his voice, he was breathing those words from behind me, glued to my body while my hands gripped the seat. Not being able to see his face was torture, not being able to see if his eyes took on the bright gray or were taken over by the black of his pupils made me vulnerable. His voice was a guide, my challenge was to be content with that alone. I opened my eyes and saw that people were busy with their conversations or amusements, there were only adults there, people who hadn't been easily surprised for a long time. These hands, rough and large, move over the skin of my neck, fitting perfectly. I feel warmth and urgency, everything inside me intensifies. I'm looking for something, and I know I'll find it in Mads. I moan softly, the music drowning out everything and everyone.

"I think I've forgotten..." The emptiness on my skin is hot and desperate, I open my eyes and turn away from his touch. My numb eyelids only allow me a glimpse of him, then I see the tall, large figure moving in front of me. I feel his hand clasping mine tightly. I raise my chin to the sky because that's the only way I can see him. His face is determined, his lips are closed, his posture is upright, and his dark eyes, under black eyelashes, stare at me from above. He's eating me, challenging me, instigating me, caressing me with that look, expressing so many things at once that it makes me dizzy. His shapely arms retract, his strong neck and a part of his tanned chest are the focus of my gaze. He knows, he sees what he's doing, I want to raise my hands to scratch him, to touch and fill my fingers with the short, gray hairs on his chest, on his arms.

"I'll make you remember." Mads says seriously, hot. "You're almost begging with these eyes." I sigh and feel the moisture in my eyes as I close my eyelids. The feeling was crazy, delicious. I wanted everything.

He pulls me up and lifts me off the bench, I feel my legs tremble as they touch the hard floor and I just follow him, squeezing his hand.

We walk through the people, silhouettes and suddenly just shadows, my focus is on Mads, nothing matters to me, not even Darian's words stop me they give me more fuel for the flame that is growing inside of me.

This was one of those moments when none of us thought coherently, age was just a number, my favorite. Maybe melancholy and curiosity were strong allies for an unforgettable fuck, I would use them, I would give everything to this man. His hand clasped mine tightly, his body led me to the back of the establishment, and nothing seemed more certain.

Ahead, I saw a narrow opening that signaled the steps of a staircase to the upper floor, where a greenish light shone dimly, indicating what awaited us. I remember the two windows above the pub. It was a limited motel, small but well suited to its purpose. My body trembled with anticipation, I'd never been in a place like this before, never been taken there by a man. The idea excited me, my feet stomping excitedly on each step of the stairs.

"Can we go up? There are only a few rooms." Mads looks at me over his shoulder, his intense eyes seeming to smile in contrast to his mouth.

"I've rented both rooms." Two? My expectations fade, and I suddenly feel confused. What was his intention?

"Will we need two?" He loosens his grip on my hand, I feel his skin rubbing and touching mine more lightly.

"No, we'll only need one, but I don't want to hear another moan besides yours." His words come out calmly as if they were harmless. The heat that spreads through my vulva and my body starts again and I try not to react with surprise or emotion to his words.

We turn to the new start of a short staircase and Mads stops. My face brushes against his vest and I look up to see what exactly stopped him. I hear laughter and look straight at the two silhouettes coming down the stairs, clinging to each other. A tall, thin man wears the same vest as the motorcycle club, his chest shining, his jeans threatening to fall off his narrow hips. His face is exposed and I see the man I had seen naked through the window of the second bedroom, his hair was brown and messy, his face thin and his jaw marked, he looked to be under 30, and his mannerisms showed him to be a young and communicative man, the way he smiled and easily showed affection to the brunette woman. They go downstairs and finally notice us. The man raises his eyebrows, not impressed, but full of himself when he sees Mads, who looks more serious. A smile appears on his lips, sly and mischievous, which fades when he looks at me.

His black irises hovered over me for a few seconds, his changed expression suggesting and making it clear that I didn't belong there, that I was a stranger to him. As a last strange act of his, he swings in seconds from me to Mads, stopping again at my face and body. What I see is clear even in the dim light, his smile is cynical while his eyes are hungry and intense in my direction. I look away and see out of the corner of my eye that he is hugging the shoulder of the woman who was walking down the stairs in another conversation. That was strange.

"Who is he?" I asked, climbing back up.

"That was Tony." Mads practically spits out the name.

"He's part of the motorcycle club too, isn't he?"

"He's a prospect, he's being evaluated to become an official member." His words are cold as ice. We reach the small corridor and I feel the weight of his hand disappear, he walks to the first door, and I follow him expectantly.

"Then why is he wearing a vest and what is your role here?" That was strange, usually new or aspiring members didn't wear the organization's uniform, whatever it was. Mads took a deep breath and I noticed the reaction of his muscles as he inhaled and exhaled.

"Because Tony is a pain in the ass and a big son of a bitch."

He turns, his words startling me, but I quickly forget them as he pulls a key from his pocket and unlocks the door. His hand grips the handle tightly and opens it for me with an expression of lust and seriousness.

"I'm an Enforcer."