7-Crow
1175 Words
Our dance became a silent conversation, our bodies speaking in a language that was as old as time itself. Our hips swayed in perfect rhythm, grinding together in a way that had nothing to do with the music and everything to do with our unspoken desires. His thighs brushed against mine, the friction sending waves of heat crashing through me. I could feel the bulge in his jeans, a testament to his desire, and my own body responded with a wet ache.
His hand slid up the back of my neck, his fingers tangling in my hair, and he tipped my head back, exposing my throat. His breath was a warm caress as he bent down and kissed me there, his lips moving in a gentle yet hungry exploration that had me panting for more. I arched into him, my hands sliding around his waist, and I felt the tension coil in his muscles.
Our movements grew more frantic, our hips grinding together in a dance that was no longer about comfort or friendship—it was about raw, primal need. His hand slid lower, cupping my ass, and I moaned, the sound lost in the music. His fingers dug into my flesh as he pulled me closer, his erection pressing insistently against me. The air around us grew thick with want, the chemistry between us palpable and impossible to ignore.
The music swelled, the crescendo a symphony of desire that mirrored our own. His hand moved to the front of my jeans, the pressure of his palm against my swollen mound making me gasp. His thumb stroked the seam, and I felt myself getting wetter. His other hand found my breast, his thumb brushing over my n****e through the fabric of my shirt, sending a bolt of pleasure through me that made my legs weak.
Our eyes locked, the heat in his gaze burning through me like a wildfire. We both knew that we were playing with fire, that this dance could only lead to one place.
But then, with a growled "f**k," Crow broke away, leaving me trembling in the center of the floor. The room spun, and the music suddenly felt too loud, too fast, as he stormed out of the bar, slamming the door behind him.
The walk back to the apartment above the bar was tense, the silence thick with the unspoken words hanging in the air. I knew Crow was just outside, his bike's engine a constant reminder of his presence. The ache between my legs was a painful throb, a stark reminder of what I had just walked away from.
As I lay in bed that night, the thunder of the ocean outside seemed to echo the tumultuous emotions within me. The walls felt like they were closing in, suffocating me with the weight of the secrets and the unspoken desires that lay between Crow and me.
The next day was a blur of work and avoidance. Crow was nowhere to be found, and the bar felt empty without his presence. The Renegades were tight-lipped about his whereabouts, their eyes watching me with a curiosity that made me feel like a caged animal. The air was thick with the scent of anticipation and fear.
And as the night grew darker, so did my mood. The bar was more crowded than ever, the tension palpable as the Serpents made their presence known once again. The whispers grew louder, the glances more pointed, and I knew that I was now a pawn in this game of gang war.
The door to the bar swung open, and the cool night air rushed in. I looked up, expecting Crow, but instead, my heart sank as I saw Snake striding in, his dead eyes searching the room. The crowd parted for him, and my stomach twisted into knots as he approached the bar, his sneer growing with each step.
"Looking for someone?" I asked, trying to sound braver than I felt.
"Oh, I've found her," he said, his eyes raking over me. "Your dear ol' daddy left quite the legacy, didn't he?"
I knew what he was implying, the same accusation he'd thrown at me the night before. But this time, there was something different in his tone—a challenge, a dare.
"What do you want?" I demanded, my voice shaking.
He leaned closer, his breath hot against my ear. "I want---," he began, his hand reaching out to grab my wrist.
Before he could say another word, the sound of a chair scraping against the floor was followed by the thud of a fist connecting with flesh. Snake stumbled back, a crimson blossom blooming on his cheek as Crow emerged from the shadows, his fists clenched and his eyes alight with a fury that was terrifying and thrilling all at once.
The bar went quiet again, the only sounds the heavy breathing of the bikers and the distant echo of the waves. The air was electric, charged with the promise of violence. And as I stared at the two men, the line between love and loyalty, passion and danger, grew blurrier than ever.
"You touch her again, and you'll wish you were never born," Crow growled, his stance wide and threatening.
Snake sneered, holding a hand to his cheek. "Or what? You gonna claim her like some kind of prize?"
The challenge was clear, and my heart was in my throat. This was not a game, this was a dance of power and pain, and I was the prize that neither wanted to lose.
The Serpents slithered away, and the tension slowly dissipated. Crow didn't move, his eyes still locked on me.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, not sure what I was apologizing for—his feelings, the situation, or the fact that I hadn't pushed Snake away faster.
He took a deep breath, "Don't be. This isn't on you."
The words hung in the air, and I knew that even though the immediate threat had passed, the storm was far from over.
The rest of the night passed in a blur of whispers and glances. The bar patrons had seen the tension between Crow and Snake, and the whispers grew louder about what it all meant. Mel kept shooting me concerned looks, and even Rouger was quieter than usual.
As the night wound down and the last of the patrons stumbled out into the cool night air, Crow approached me, his eyes dark with something I couldn't quite name.
"You've got a choice to make," he said, his voice low and serious. "You can stay here, with us, or you can leave. But if you stay, you're in it for good."
The weight of his words settled over me like a heavy blanket. I knew what he was saying—once you're in a gang's world, there's no getting out. But I also knew that without this job, without the protection of the Renegade Riders, Leo's future was uncertain.
"I'm not going anywhere," I said, my voice firm. "We're family, right?"
- Writer
