He glanced at the clock. “Just waiting for the bar to close.”
“What’s going to happen when the bar closes?”
“I want to have a talk.”
I arched a brow. “About?”
“Us.”
It was Monday at 11:50. Most everyone had gone already. There were two of Price’s men in the corner, nursing the same bottles of beer they’d been sipping on for the past hour.
I couldn’t take it any longer. If he wanted to talk, we needed get started. There were a few things I needed to get off my chest anyway.
“Hey, fellas!” I shouted. “We’re closing at midnight tonight. Sorry, I need to do inventory.”
One of the men waved appreciatively while the other stood.
“There,” I said. “That was simple. What do you want to talk about?”
“I’ll wait ‘till they’re gone.”
In less than a minute the cowbell declared their departure. “There you go.” I waved toward the door. “Gone.”
“Lock the door,” he said dryly.
He wanted sex. It was about time. Grinning from ear to ear, I reached for my keys. “Oh.” I rubbed my hands together. “You wanna fuck.”
“No,” he said. “I want to talk.”
My heart sank. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
Something was. It didn’t matter what he said, I could tell. Maybe it was my kitchen hair. Wearing a net and looming over a grease fryer was doing me no justice in the hair department.
“Do you think I’m sexy?” I asked.
“Fuck yeah,” he replied, appearing to take exception to my question.
“Do you like fucking me?”
“Fuck yes, I do,” he snapped back. “Why?”
“Because you don’t.”
He was out of his chair, looking at me with eyes of concern. “I don’t what?”
“You don’t fuck me,” I complained. “Since the whole kidnapping thing, you haven’t even tried. It’s been a week. You know I’m not broken, right? That I’m not skitzed out about it, or anything. You can fuck me. I’m not going to fall apart.”
He looked worried. About what, I had no idea.
“Well,” I said. “I know you can get it up, so what is it? What? It’s gotta be rough? That’s fine. Grab a fistful of my hair and let’s have a go at it.”
“We need to talk.”
“Fine,” I said snidely. “Let me lock the door.”
I locked the door and returned to the bar. After pouring myself a beer, I leaned against the side of the bar opposite where he sat. I gave him a flippant look. “I’m all ears.”
He exhaled a long breath. “I don’t know where to start.”
“Start with whatever is going to make you attracted to me again.”
“Gray.” He shook his head. “You have no idea.”
“You’re wrong,” I said. “I’ve got several ideas. One is that you’re the one who’s broken. After all you’ve been through, you need to rough me up to get it up. If that’s the case, I’m fine with that. The other is that you’re just a big pussy, and you don’t want to have some chick hanging around your club. If that’s the case, I’ll live. I won’t like it, but I’ll live. Maybe I make you feel sorry for me from time to time and get you to throw me some sympathy dick. That’s be a nice change of—”
“Stop!” he demanded. “We just need to have a talk. Can I start?”
I swallowed my nervousness and took a drink. “Sure.”
He sat down. “I don’t need to explain to you what an outlaw motorcycle club does,” he said. “Are you okay with knowing that I’m in an outlaw club?”
I mentally laughed at the ridiculousness of the question. “If anything,” I replied. “I’m with you because you’re in an outlaw motorcycle club. Here’s a newsflash for you. Bad boys make my pussy wet. You are one. Next question, please.”
He seemed relieved. “Okay. There’ll be times when I can’t tell you things. I won’t be able to talk about some of the things that I’m doing, or that I’ve done. I won’t lie to you, but I might not be able to give you details or tell you the entire truth.”
Lying was a deal breaker. I needed to make sure we were both singing off the same page. “But you won’t lie? Ever?”
“I won’t.”
“Give me an example of how you’d tell me something but not everything.”
He pressed his balled fist into his open palm. He rested his chin against his knuckles and studied me. “Randall Holderman. He’s gone, and he’s not coming back. Ever. After this discussion, he will never be discussed again. Are you okay with that?”
He could elude to whatever he wanted. I wasn’t a fool. Gone and not coming back meant he was dead. I was okay with that. Well, kind of.
“Did he deserve it?” I asked.
“Deserve what?”
“What happened to him.”
“He and two of his running mates raped a patch’s sister. Two of them held her down while the other raped her. They took turns. I’m not convinced it a good thing that she lived through it. She’ll be a lifetime of recovering, if she ever recovers at all. Yeah, they deserved it.”
My stomach churned. Fire ran through my veins. I wanted to scream. I balled my fists until they ached. “He’s not ever coming back. No matter what, right?”
“No matter what.”
“Good. Next question.”
“The night you were kidnapped?”
I thought we were making tremendous progress. Much to my chagrin, Price’s worried look returned.
“What about it?” I asked.
Price fidgeted in his seat. I’d never seen him so nervous, and I didn’t like it.
“We’re both adults,” I said. “Stop looking like that. Just say it.”
He raked his fingers through his hair. “I had no idea what was going on. I had nothing to do with it, I knew absolutely nothing about it. You were actually kidnapped. For real.”
I was confused. Really confused. “What do you mean?”
He got out of the chair and took a few steps away from the bar. He crossed his arms over his chest. “You asked about Randall Holderman. One of the club’s patches found out about it, and he thought you were working with the cops. He organized your kidnapping. The two guys who were questioning you were trying to get information about whoever else might know about Randall’s disappearance.”
My stomach knotted into a ball. I felt like I was going to barf. “They were going to kill me?”
He stared.
“Price?”
He swallowed heavily. “Yeah.”
“They were going to kill me?”
He nodded. “Yeah.”
“You’re telling me I was digging my own fucking grave?”
He raised his hands. “I had nothing to do with it.”
A fist-sized lump rose into my throat. I swallowed against it, but it remained, nearly choking me from breathing. “You saved me?” I murmured. “Like, really saved me?”
He swallowed hard, again. “I picked your lock and went into your house, looking for anything I could find that might tell me where you were. I went everywhere I knew to go. Another MC in town heard about what was going on. One of the guys questioning you was trying to patch in with the other club last year. He didn’t agree with the idea of killing you, so he was texting one of the other club’s members, asking for advice. That member called me.” Becoming emotional as he spoke, he paused. “I sent the kid…I sent him a text and told him to do whatever he had to…I wanted him to prolong it without letting the other guy know. To give me time to get there.” He blew out a breath of relief. “I was afraid if the other guy found out, he’d just kill you.”
“The guy with the tattoos?”
He nodded.
I blinked. Repeatedly. “Oh. My. Fucking. God.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m not,” I snapped back. “Jesus. If you hadn’t showed up, I’d be a corpse.”
“I
’m sorry it happened.”
“You didn’t know anything about it.” I looked right at him. “Right?”
“I swear,” he replied. “In fact, I haven’t really spoke to the guy who ordered it done since it’s happened, which brings me to another thing.”
“Please, tell me it wasn’t Brisco.”
Every ounce of expression left his face.
“That big bald-headed motherfucker,” I snarled. “Really?”
Pursed lips and a blank stare were all I got in return.
I pounded my fist against the bar. “That cocksucker.”
“He felt he was protecting the club,” he explained. “I’m not making excuses or justifying anything he did. I’m just telling you what he told me.”
“I feel like I’m going to be sick,” I said. “Jesus.” I looked away for a minute. “There’s more?”
“A little.”
“Well, it can’t get worse. Keep going.”
“None of the fellas know what Brisco did, and I need to tell ‘em. It’s going to potentially cause a problem when I do.”
I didn’t care one way or another if he told them. Any means of resolution needed to be between him and Brisco.
“Don’t tell them,” I said. “Problem solved.”
“I have to.”
“Why?”
“Because they need to know what happened. It’ll help them accept you without needing to go through the same vetting process on a smaller scale. You’ve already proven yourself. They don’t realize it. If they did, your presence won’t be questioned.”
“My presence?”
“I want this to be over with,” he said.
Now, I was really confused. “What to be over with?”
He gestured back and forth between us with his index finger. “This. Meeting at the bar. Wondering what the fuck’s going on. If you’re going to end up moving to Boston or falling in love with the Budweiser delivery guy. I want us to be a couple, or whatever the fuck people call it. I needed to get all of this out there before I decided, but now I know.” He nodded at me. “That’s what I want.”
I felt like I was on a rollercoaster. I went from mad enough to bite the head off a bat to happy enough to cry.
“You want to be a couple?” I asked. “Like, you and me, officially together?”
He crossed his arms. “Yeah.”
I wanted to hear it again. Just to be sure. “You’re sure?”
“Listen,” he said, unfolding his arms. “Before we met, I’d flip out three or four times a day. Now? Not even once. Being around you calms me down. That’s not the only reason I want to be with you, but it’s one of them.”
As much as I liked Price, agreeing to be in a relationship because I calmed his nerves wasn’t a good idea. I hoped there was more to it than that.
“Tell me a few more.” I said.
“Reasons?”
I nodded. “Please.”
He pushed his hands into his pockets. He paced nervously along an invisible ten-foot long path on the other side of the bar. After a few trips, he paused. “You’ve heard the saying the proof’s in the pudding?”
I had no idea what point he was trying to make. “I uhhm. Yeah, I’ve heard that.”
“Well,” he said. “The proof’s in the pudding.”
“You’re going to have to elaborate.”
“It was anyone’s guess if my cock would get hard when I was with someone before I met you. It had a mind of its own. Most of the time, it wasn’t interested in sex. When I look at you, just look at you, my cock gets stiff. You walk by. Bam! You say ‘hi’. Bam! You turn around and look at me like you do? That ‘what the fuck are you looking at’ look? Yeah. You guessed it. Bam! Stiff dick. Stiff dick. Stiff dick. When you were taking a bath the other day, I had to leave the room. It was fucking embarrassing. I like it that seeing you naked embarrasses me.”
It was a pretty good endorsement. “I like it, too. Anything else?”
He seemed relieved. He leaned against the edge of the bar. “I like watching you walk. Eat. Talk. Cook. I like it that you’ve got guts. That you’re tough. When you come in my house, when we’re together? I feel like the home fills with, fuck, I don’t know. Love or something. It just. It’s fucking hard to explain, but—”
“Just stop,” I said. “I’m convinced.” I walked around the edge of the bar and spread my arms wide. “I’m all yours. Do with me as you wish.”
He pulled me close and peered into my eyes. I melted into his arms. He kissed me so passionately that everything vanished except for the two of us. I floated in that state of euphoric bliss for some time, not knowing when—or if—I might return to a conscious state. I really didn’t care. If he could have kissed me like that forever, I would have gladly remained suspended in that state of being for a lifetime.
Eventually, our lips parted.
He’d completely rocked my world on its axis. I stumbled to keep my footing. My legs felt like marshmallows, but I somehow managed to stand.
“Holy. Shit.” I wiped my mouth on the back of my hand. “That was a kiss.”
I gazed at the toes of his boots for a moment while I regained my composure. Once I had my wits about me, I looked up. “Let me see your hand.”
He gave me a funny look. “What?”
“Give me your hand,” I said in the roughest voice I could muster.
He held his hand between us. “Here.”
I shoved it into my shorts. “Feel that?”
He grazed my entrance with his fingertip. My entire body shuddered in response.
“Jesus,” he said. “You’re soaked.”
I pressed my hand against his crotch. He was as hard a rock. “You’re not much better off, Mister.”
“I warned you,” he said. “All you’ve got to do is look at me.”
I squeezed his stiff cock through his jeans. “Now that we’re official or whatever, can I get this dick any time I want?”
“Absolutely.” He slid a finger inside me. “Can I—”
“Yes,” I blurted. “Whenever you want.”
“I want it,” he said. “Right now.”
My hands were a blur. My shorts hit the floor like a two-ton weight. I peeled off my panties and tossed them aside.
“Jesus,” he said, looking at how far I’d thrown them. “What was that about?”
“They’re soaked,” I said, reaching for the hem of my shirt. “I didn’t want one of us to step on them. We might slip and fall.”
I tossed my shirt and then my bra. His gaze fell to my tits. I loved the way he looked at them. It was like he’d never seen one before. I felt amazingly beautiful while his gaze lingered for what seemed like nothing short of eternity.
He unbuckled his belt. “Brace yourself on this.” He pushed his pants down a little. His cock sprung free. “You won’t have to worry about falling.”
I stared at it for a moment, admiring its symmetry. “You’ve got a pretty dick,” I cooed.
“Did we ever decide who’s in charge of this mess?” he asked.
“What mess?”
“Us.”
“When we’re fucking, you are.” I laughed. “Other than that, it’s me.”
Seeming mildly amused by my response, he lifted me from my feet and carried me to the bar. “We’ll see about that.” He plopped me down on my ass like he was putting a child in his highchair. “Spread your legs.”
Complying with a command like that one was easy. Like an overeager wife on Valentine’s Day, I spread my legs so wide I feared I’d dislocate a hip.
He gripped my ass in his hands and buried his head between my legs. His tongue flicked against my clit. A tingle ran up my spine, causing me to tense. He inserted a finger. I arched my back, forcing myself against his willing mouth. In response, he buried his tongue deeper.
I’d never been so turned on in my life. Selfishly seeking a memorable climax while flat on my back beside the beer taps, I bucked like a wild horse. Each time I thrust my swollen pussy
against his face, he buried his tongue deep between my wet folds.
Like choreographed dancers, we maintained perfect rhythm. An indiscernible amount of time passed. During one of his tongue against the clit exercises, my body began to quake. Not knowing what else to do with my hands, I reached for Price’s head. I raked my fingers deep into his thick locks. With a fistful of his hair in each hand, I fucked his mouth like I was mad at him.
Like a rocket on a mission, my state of bliss shot out of the earth’s atmosphere and into space. Unprepared for such an earth-shattering orgasm, I clenched his hair tight in my hands and shuddered from head to toe. When my ability to reason returned, I was a limp pile of naked flesh spread out on the bar like a buffet.
He wasted no time throwing one of his legs over the edge of the bar. Once at my side, he stood. “You ready for this?”
Assuming he was asking about me sensitivity regarding his scars, I nodded. “I am.”
He lifted the hem of his shirt. Flat on my back and peering up at him, my eyes went wide as soon as it cleared his torso.
“What the fuck?” I gasped.
He tossed it aside. “What?”
I sat up straight and stared. “You ditch.”
“My what?”
I pointed at the prominent ‘V’ at the base of his chiseled abdomen. “Your dick ditch,” I said. “That’s.” I swallowed a rising lump of sexual tension. “Incredible.”
He seemed embarrassed. “Thanks.”
I turned to my side. Almost too exhausted to move, I lifted my head and glanced over my shoulder. “Will you fuck me like a horse?”
He laughed. “A horse?”
“Yeah,” I said. “From behind.”
“Doggy style,” he said. “That’s how dogs fuck.”
“Dogs, horses, cats, pigs. I don’t care.” I sighed. “Call it whatever. Pig sex. Just do it.”
“I want to look at you when I’m fucking you,” he said. “You’re beautiful.”
He could have said a lot of things. Telling me I was beautiful while in the throes of passion was enough to win what little portion of my heart he didn’t already possess.
Blushing at his remark, I rolled onto my back. “Thank you.”
He lowered himself to the bar and wedged his hips between my legs. It wasn’t the best of locations and the bar was harder than a rock, but the love we made was so magnificent that no bed could have improved our performance—or my level of satisfaction.
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