Yeah, Logan “High” Judd was a biker who lived in a gothic Victorian manor that dripped class from every square centimeter, the same as his old lady. All of it, except the basement man-cave that was such a stark contrast to all that was around it, Snap couldn’t walk into the fucking place without feeling an instant sense of culture shock, then fast on the heels of that busting a gut laughing.

Whatever they were doing up there, Snap had no doubt High often found times to reflect on current times, and when he did, he’d wind his neck around just like Hop.

Notably absent was Hound. He used to be around a lot. Serious shit had gone down with him—him and his brothers, him and his now-woman. Snap was frankly shocked as shit Hound had nailed down any woman at all, much less the one he went balls to the wall for. Snap was under the impression that the man had always been about brotherhood, blood, guts and attachment-less booty.

Then again, a lot had surfaced about Hound recently that was shocking as shit.

So in a rare instance, when it came to Hound, Snap had learned he was wrong.

But in this instance, he was glad to be that.

His eyes lit on Rosalie, and not unusually, his dick had the response.

She was mellowed out, with her people, but the vibe had penetrated, she knew what it did to her man, and she was all in to do something about that.

He lifted his chin to accept her offer.

She smiled and looked to Speck.

Snap moved to Boz and poured another shot in the empty shot glass Boz was scowling at.

Then he shouted, “Chill!” and the recruit that had been doing whatever the fuck he’d been doing behind the bar with Snap loped over.

“You got the bar,” he said to the prospect.

“You got it, brother,” Chill replied.

Snap moved around the bar and it was not a surprise to him that, in sync, he met Rosalie at the door that was the mouth to the back hall, the hall that led to all the brothers’ rooms.

Returning her small grin, probably also returning the heat he felt from her eyes, he slid an arm around her shoulders and felt hers glide along his waist.

They had to turn slightly sideways to get through the door, but they did it, moving attached through it, down the hall and all the way to his room.

He took her with two fingers, sucking rhythmically on her clit, but harder, then harder, and then harder, eyes up watching her strain into him, naked, arched, legs dropped wide to the sides.

As he intended, she found it for him, her body bolting against his mouth, and he kept sucking and stroking her through it until he knew it was too much and only then did he unlatch and lift away, still watching her, eyes glued to the beauty of his Rosalie gripped with an orgasm.

But he kept his fingers buried deep, part of her, and only when her frame settled and her gaze drifted hazily down her body to catch his did he come up on his knees, withdrawing his fingers slow, tender, floating them over her clit with a light touch, listening to the soft noise she made telling him she liked that.

He kept his eyes on his woman, her eyes on him, as he knelt between her legs, wrapping his left hand around his cock and stroking slowly while he lifted his right hand, fingers coated with her, and drew them into his mouth to suck her sweetness down his throat.

Another noise, a deeper mew, and she writhed in front of him.

He’d taken her there.

But she was ready for more.

He slid his fingers out between his lips and ordered gently, “Turn over, baby. On your knees.”

She nodded and did as told instantly, offering her sweet ass and wet, pink cunt to her man, spreading her thighs to give him the perfect angle to position.

God, fuck, he loved this woman, her hair on his pillow, the smell of her sex in his nose, the quiet unity they shared all the time, but especially in these times, the straight-up trust she gave him all the time.

But especially in these times.

He wiped the wet of her from the whiskers around his mouth with the back of his forearm, not licking it clean but leaving it there so he could smell her on him after they’d passed out to sleep.

Then he walked on his knees to her, guiding his cock, now unsheathed since they’d both been tested and she started taking care of family planning.

He’d lay seed in her womb. Soon. After Chaos shit was finished and he could hand her nothing but steady and true.

The ring he’d give her, though, that’d come sooner.

He slid in slowly, watching her strain to hold back and take him how he wanted to take her. He knew his baby was wild in just one way and he gave her that, after he took her to a place where the end result would blow her mind but reduce their world to nothing, not a thing, but their two bodies in a bed.

He rocked in her, watching her arms come out, dig under the pillows, reach to wrap her fingers around the headboard.

And he continued to rock in her, giving her just his cock, not even caressing the skin of her beautiful ass with his fingers.

As he watched the tension gather in the muscles along her spine, felt her thighs and ass quivering as she took his slow thrusts, holding back for him, he went faster, catching her at the waist, pulling her to meet him.

“Snap,” she whispered.

He said nothing. He was right there. Right where he was made to be. And she couldn’t miss it.

But he bent over her, gliding his hands up her ribs and in. The light twists he gave her tight nipples caused her entire body to buck.