Page 48 of Drowning

Trying to get him to relax, I pick up where I left off, seal my lips around his thick cock, and slide them all the way down to the base. He grunts like his fucking soul is leaving his body as I cradle his balls and massage them, working him deeper into my mouth until my throat squeezes around the tip. When he puts his hand on my head and pushes me down, I shiver from the sensation and suck him even faster. My head bobs up and down as my lips roll smoothly over his shaft, feeling the bulging vein gliding against my lips.

"Fuck, Ace," he moans, leaning the back of his head against the headrest.

Groaning with pleasure, Stone tightens his grip on the steering wheel as the rain continues to pour down. His breath quickens, and I keep my pace steady, my eyes lifting to meet his as he watches me with a desperate hunger in his eyes.

His balls grow heavy in my hand. His cock twitches and throbs against my tongue as I swirl it around him. And as I widen my jaw and deep-throat him, the familiar taste of precum lingers on my tongue, letting me know that he's fucking close.

I increase the suction and speed, determined to take him over the edge as I continue to bob my head with fervor. Suddenly, his body tenses and his hips lift off the seat, driving himself deeper into my mouth as he releases with a guttural moan. I swallow every drop, not wanting to waste a single bit of it.

Breathless and satisfied, Stone looks at me with a dazed smile as he catches his breath. "Damn, Ace. You always know how to calm me down," he says, brushing a strand of hair away from my face.

Sitting up, I wipe my mouth and lean back in my seat, a small smile playing on my lips. "Let's keep searching. We'll find her," I reassure him before turning my attention back to the road ahead, hoping to God I was fucking right.

We spent hours in the car searching for Emerson, but we didn't have any luck finding her. Needing a break from the rain and tired eyes, the group agreed to meet at the SSB bar. I didn't want to see the damage from the drive-by, but I knew it was inevitable.

The bar was a second home for me; I basically grew up there. With my father being the president, we spent more time at the bar than we did at home. And when my mother eventually ended up leaving, we fucking started sleeping there. She left because of my father and the type of life he wanted to live. She didn't want this for me. She wanted me to do better.

But I didn't.

I followed in my father's footsteps and bought my first bike when I turned 15, joining the SSB the moment I was able. The club was my life, my family, and I knew I could count on my brothers no matter what. After graduating high school, I chose to become a full-time club member, and kissed any dreams of going to college goodbye. Especially when I went to prison for manslaughter. But I moved past that, and I had every one of my brothers by my side through every step.

The bar had become something special to me, so the fact that it wasn't as safe as I thought it was bothered me a lot.

The bar is also where I met Emerson for the first time, and I knew then that she'd become trouble—in the good way, of course. We bonded over our shared passion for music and our shared hatred for algebra. After school, she would come to the club to see her father, and his ass would always have her do her homework, refusing to let her interact with us or us with her.

She was off-limits... forbidden, and we were fucking warned to stay away from her. So naturally, him forbidding it only made us want her ten times more.

But none of us made a move on his baby girl. We kept our promise until he was murdered, then she was fair game.

If he were alive to see this—his daughter not only fucking one member of the club but four—his ass would fucking croak.

Seven and them have their own reasons why they're obsessed with her, or in love with her—same thing. And I have mine.

I used to watch her while she sat at the bar and did her homework. I was able to count all the freckles I saw on her face and remember exactly where they were. I was infatuated with the way she'd lick her lips, completely unsuspecting. I obsessed over the way she'd stretch when she sat too long, and the little moan that slipped from her throat. I was obsessed with everything about her, but I never fucking told her.

So when we pulled up to the bar and parked the car, my heart sank when I saw the guys standing outside looking at all the bullet holes in the building—without Emerson.

"You didn't find her?" They shake their heads when I ask, looking defeated in every sense of the fucking word.

The bullet holes didn't bother me anymore. I was too worried about Emerson and where the fuck she could be. The bar could be fixed. But depending on where Em was and what happened, she might not.

Flicking his cigarette into a puddle near the curb, Eli turns around and walks inside, his shoulders slumped, from the weight and pressure that were stacking on top of them with each passing second.

I hurried through the doors of the bar to follow him, and I was greeted by the familiar smell of cigarette smoke and whiskey. The music seemed to relax my racing nerves, but with each glance at Eli, my anxiety worsened. Emerson was everything to him—the only family he had left. He was supposed to protect her, and he fucking failed. We all did. But obviously, Eli was taking it the hardest because it was more personal to him than any other problem he had in the past.

The four of us slide into our usual booth in the back and have drinks placed in front of us before we can speak.

"Y'all checked Damon's place, right?" Everyone in the booth gives Stone a dumbfounded look, the tension growing thicker.

"Yes, we fucking looked there, Stone. Neither of them were there." Seven looks like he wants to fight someone, but he does his best to keep his temper in check.

"Seven, can't you track her or some shit through her phone?" Kane blurts out, looking hopeful.

"Yeah, but I can't get her pin unless she takes or makes a call."

"Then let's call her until she picks up."

"I tried calling her, but she isn't answering. She isn't answering any of our texts or calls. It's like she's fucking vanished into thin air," Eli says, signaling to the bartender for another drink.