by Lane Hart
“Quincey’s the one with curly hair and big tits, right?” the kid asks, and I glare at him, refusing to answer that question. “Sorry,” he mutters, not sounding all that apologetic. “She left with Dalton a while ago.”
“Fuck.”
By now Dalton could know every-fucking-thing if Quincey was pissed and wanted to screw me over. Would she do something like that?
How should I fucking know? I just met her a few days ago; and from my past experience, women aren’t all that trustworthy. Still, I’d like to think that I saw the real Quincey, the sweet, kind woman who would never betray me. But then again, I did come back from my meeting to find her fucking Gabriel. It’s starting to feel like I’m never gonna be enough for any woman. That’s why I’ve avoided relationships at all costs after my first one ended in disaster. Women are not worth going through that kind of pain again.
For a few days, though, I started to think that Quincey might be different. That was probably just the loneliness talking.
Heading outside to get some air when it feels about a million degrees in the bar, I walk into the parking lot at the same time the club’s van pulls back in. Dalton parks and climbs out of the driver seat.
“You take Quincey back to your place?” I ask as I stroll over toward him.
“Yep,” he replies on his way over to his bike without looking me in the eye.
Fuck.
“Look, man,” I start as he fastens the chin strap on his helmet. “I don’t know what she fucking said, but you can’t believe a damn word out of her mouth.”
“Quincey doesn’t run her mouth,” he tells me. “She’s Peyton’s best friend, and you can trust her to keep your secrets.”
“What the hell does that mean?” I throw back at him with my arms crossed over my chest.
After he straddles his Harley, he finally meets my gaze. “Don’t worry. I can keep secrets too.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t have any fucking secrets,” I grit out defensively.
“Dude, cut the bullshit,” Dalton says. “You really need to fuck behind locked, opaque doors if you want to keep it a secret. Just leave Quincey alone and out of the crossfire. She’s a good girl and doesn’t deserve to be screwed over.”
“I didn’t screw her over!” I exclaim, avoiding everything he’s implying even though my face is flaming red with shame. I can’t believe I was stupid enough to do Gabriel where someone could see us, especially a King. I wasn’t thinking. “Gabriel fucked Quincey while I was gone today!” I tell Dalton.
He holds up his palm to stop me. “I don’t need or want to know your and Gabriel’s business. Just be more careful going forward, yeah?”
“Yeah,” I huff since there’s nothing more to say.
“See ya, man,” Dalton says before he cranks up his engine and pulls off.
Chapter Nineteen
Gabriel
For the past few days, I’ve been thinking about what Quincey said while avoiding Ian, giving him more time to process whatever the fuck is going on inside his head.
And while I’m still not able to bring myself to talk to my brother, I take a baby step. Or maybe it’s a giant step, because I could find myself out on my ass with no cut, no tattoo studio, no apartment, and no more brotherhood.
“Hey, ah, you two got a minute?” I ask when I find Chase and Torin sitting alone in the chapel; Torin at the head of the table and Chase sitting on his right. I was hoping to start with our president, but since he’s with his brother and our VP…
“Yeah, man. What’s up?” Torin asks. “How’s Ian doing? Is he getting settled in?”
“Ah, yeah, he’s doing good I think,” I say, trying my damndest not to blush at the mention of him because I didn’t want to drag him into this particular conversation.
“So, you’re not here to tell us he fucked up and broke his probation?” Chase asks with a grin.
“No. Definitely not.” That will never fucking happen if I have anything to say about it. Ian is not going to spend another day behind bars.
Both men nod their heads as if to tell me to go ahead and spit it out, so I clear my throat and force the words out of my mouth. “What I wanted to tell you was that…I’m bisexual,” I say while clutching either side of my cut and staring at the floor. I can’t bring myself to look them in the eye.
“And?” Chase asks into the long silence.
“And, ah, I wasn’t sure if that’s allowed or whatever with the MC. But I’m tired of hiding it and wanted to own up to my shit, no matter the costs. If you want my cut back, just say so. I wouldn’t blame you or take it personally, you know?”
Their next response is not one I was prepared for – I hear a small chuckle-like cough from both men.
“So?” I ask them, finally looking up at their faces.
“You thought that the MC would have a problem with you liking cock?” Chase asks, making me wince at his bluntness.
“Well, yeah.”
“It’s not exactly something we broadcast, but this MC was built by a man who enjoyed a little dick on the side,” Torin explains.
“Wait. What?” I ask in confusion. “Your uncle was…?”
“Uncle Deacon went both ways and never once had an old lady,” Torin says. “Our dad thought it was because he went through women too fast to settle down, but I don’t think there were many women after Maddox’s mama.”
“I didn’t know until I prospected,” Chase tells me. “It was a little surprising, but no big deal. Actually, I think that’s one of the reasons he started the MC. He didn’t like society’s rules in the eighties about who he should or shouldn’t love. It was one of many things about this world that he enjoyed giving the middle finger. He would’ve been happy about how far things have come for gay and bisexual men. It’s not as accepted as he would’ve liked, but it no longer has to be treated like a dirty secret.”
“So, you’re both okay with this?” I ask. “You don’t think the other guys will vote me out if or when they find out?”
“Go get the bylaws,” Torin says with a nod of his chin to the back of the room where we keep a few laptops and shit stacked on an old desk, including the bylaws in an old Harley manual binder.
I go grab it and toss it on the table in front of the guys. Torin flips right to the page he was looking for and reads it aloud, “Prospects cannot be denied membership because of race, religion, or sexual orientation. The sole requirements before a prospect can be patched in as a full member are 1.) adequate prospecting time served under a sponsor, the amount of which time is to be determined by the president, 2.) the ability to ride a Harley without dropping it and 3.) be unanimously approved by all current members in good standing who wholeheartedly agree that the newbie is loyal, honest, and trustworthy.”
“I didn’t know that part about the sexual orientation was in there,” I tell them since I haven’t read the bylaws in years.
“Yeah, well, you’re in the clear,” Torin says when he closes the binder.
“And we won’t tell anyone else,” Chase assures me. “That’s on you. Of course, we can’t promise that all of our brothers will be as accepting. You’ll just need to give them time. Abe especially.”
“What do you mean ‘Abe especially’?” I ask him.
“I expect he may be surprised and not react in the best possible way,” Chase explains. “But your brother loves you, and he’ll come around eventually.”
“Yeah, I hope you’re right.”
“Is there anything else you wanted to tell us?” Torin asks, staring me down as if he can force me to reveal all of my secrets.
“Nope. That’s it.”
Even if they have assumptions about me and Ian, I’m not going to fuel them. Things are fucked up enough with him right now.
Ian
Sometimes I wonder how my life would’ve turned out if I had been able to forgive Nikki like she asked me to do. I was even more stubborn at eighteen than I am now, though, so I told her hell no
and then beat the shit out of my father.
After spending almost two years in lock up, I decided not to go back to Carolina Beach on my piece of shit Harley and ended up in Emerald Isle at a biker bar instead. That’s where I learned about the Savage Kings and started prospecting.
Even if I hadn’t had to do the time in prison, I don’t think I could’ve been with Nik. How could I when there would always be a little person running around, reminding me of her betrayal? So, no, I don’t regret my decision to not forgive her, but I do wonder sometimes where I would be if I had tried.
Quincey and Gabriel aren’t Nikki and my father. I really do think they would’ve told me after they screwed. Gabriel would’ve had to because he’s the most honest person I know. Also, he would’ve wanted to rub it in my face and piss me off.
And Quincey, well, I want to believe she was telling the truth too. What they did wasn’t that much different from the things they had done together when I was in the room.
I have to also admit that I was turned on watching them. That’s why I didn’t barge in and stop them. Standing outside the shop, I had two reactions – jealousy was the biggest one, and the other was desire. I really wanted to join them.
It was just sex between Quincey and Gabriel, nothing more. And they didn’t do it behind my back to hurt me because they’re not spiteful, unlike my own damn father.
So maybe…maybe I should try and hear Quincey out and see if I can try and forgive her.
Chapter Twenty
Quincey
A week after Ian yelled at me to leave, he shows up on Dalton and Peyton’s doorstep.
“Hey,” he says when I open the door and then stand there and stare at him. “Can I come in?”
I want to stay mad at him, but it’s nearly impossible to resist him because he just looks so damn sad. And hot. Always hot.
“For a minute,” I reply as I open the door wider for him to slip inside.
“That’s fine. This won’t take long to say,” he tells me as he follows me over to the sofa. I sit down, and he plops so close to me that the cushions dip and the entire sides of our bodies are touching. Cupping the side of my face to turn it toward him, he strokes his thumb over my cheekbone and simply asks, “Why, Quincey? Why did you fuck him?”
“I’m sorry,” I tell him honestly. “I truly am. We were talking about how much Gabriel cares about you and how he wants a physical relationship. In fact, we decided we wanted to try another threesome. That’s why I was encouraging Gabriel to get more into things with me, hoping it would make you jealous. He deserves more from you, Ian. You know that, right?”
“Yeah, I know,” he agrees. “So, you don’t care about him?”
“No.”
“And you swear you were going to tell me?” he asks while watching his thumb swiping over my bottom lip.
“Yes, of course,” I assure him. “I never meant for it to go that far, but it did, and I should’ve stopped it until you were there...”
“Maybe it makes me weak or stupid, but I want to forget it and move past what happened that day,” Ian tells me.
“Forgiveness doesn’t make you either of those things. It just makes you a good person,” I argue, placing a kiss on the pad of his thumb.
“So, does that mean you’ll come back to Emerald Isle and stay with me?”
“Ian –” I start.
“Listen, I’m sorry I yelled at you. I shouldn’t have done that. And I can count on one hand how many times I’ve told someone I’m sorry.”
“And I’m sorry too, Ian, but I can’t. I can’t make the same mistake again, moving too fast by shacking up with the man I’m seeing. And I can’t keep hiding my head in the sand like you’re doing.”
“What do you mean?” he asks.
“Are you pursuing me because you’re scared of making another more difficult choice?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. There is no other choice.”
“Sure there is. I know about you and Gabriel,” I tell him softly. “About everything, starting from the night you were arrested.”
“I’m going to fucking kill him!” he exclaims as he jumps to his feet.
“Calm down,” I tell him when I stand up too. “I saw you together before he told me anything. And you won’t actually hurt Gabriel because you love him.”
“Who said I fucking love him?” he huffs as I stare him down. “I don’t. That’s fucking ridiculous. I only want to be with you.”
“You barely know me, and Gabriel’s been waiting on you for years. Don’t keep him waiting any longer if there’s even a tiny chance that you feel the same way…”
“I don’t,” he snaps. “What happened with Gabe is over and done. It won’t happen again.”
“Why not?” I ask.
“Because,” Ian grits out. “I can’t. I can’t be with him like that again. It doesn’t feel right, not like how I feel when I’m with you.”
“It’s just new and different. Maybe it will feel right if you would just give it a chance,” I tell him. “And until you give him a chance, I don’t think I would feel right giving you one.”
“So that’s it, huh?” he grumbles, bracing his hands on his hips.
“That’s it. I’m sorry, Ian,” I tell him. I’m not sure if he hears me, as he’s already storming out and slamming the front door behind him.
Chapter Twenty-One
Ian
I don’t know why I’m all that surprised to see Quincey on Sax’s boat heading to Shackleford Banks for the Savage Kings first annual family picnic. Peyton must have invited her since she’s still staying with them, according to what little information I can get out of Dalton. Either that or she’s just here to torture me.
And the family picnic shit? All the Kings who were fucking different girls every night are now pussy whipped by their old ladies. Wives. Most of the guys got hitched, making it all official. My mind is blown by everything that’s changed while I was gone.
As soon as we unload all of our coolers and canopies and baby toys from the boat, I finally get a chance to go talk to Quincey. I can feel Gabe glaring daggers into my back the entire time. The two of us have barely said a word to each other these last few weeks unless absolutely necessary.
“Hey,” I say when I take a seat in the sand next to where she’s unfolding a beach chair. “I’ve missed you. You look…good,” I tell her while eying her black string bikini. Her tits are stretching the fabric to the limit, and for that and our ninety-degree Indian summer I’m eternally grateful. My dick is too, which is why I know for certain that I’m still very, very attracted to women even after what I did the other day with Gabriel. I’m not sure what I expected, maybe to start watching gay porn, waving rainbow flags or wearing drag after fucking him. But honestly, I don’t even feel all that different.
“I’ve missed you too,” Quincey says, and I hate that her pretty, green eyes are covered by dark shades so I can’t tell if she’s checking me out or not. I’m just wearing my boardshorts, trying to soak up as much of the autumn sun as I can.
“I haven’t slept with anyone else since you left,” I feel compelled to tell her.
Smiling with a shake of her head, she says, “It’s only been two weeks, Ian. That’s not exactly setting any records.”
“It is when I had to go five years without touching a woman and the world is one big pussy buffet waiting for me to eat my fill.”
“Wow. Thanks for that incredible imagery.”
“Come on, Quincey. We had fun together, didn’t we?” I ask her.
“Yes, but it was only supposed to be one night that turned into one long weekend that got extremely complicated.”
“I want you, and I think you still want me too. What’s complicated about that?”
She lifts an eyebrow over the top of her glasses. “Do you really want to talk about that here?”
“No,” I answer right away. “But I do want to keep talking to you. Why don’t you meet me down on the other en
d of the island?”
“We just got here.”
“Fine, then. Meet me in an hour.”
“Where?” she asks on a sigh.
“Just follow the shoreline down until it ends and starts coming back around the other side,” I say as I point it out to her in the distance.
“I’ll think about it,” she says before she gets up and heads over to help Dalton and Peyton set up a big, blue canopy.
“Good,” I reply as I watch her walk away, appreciating how fine her ass looks in her tiny bikini. I’ve never once looked at a guy and checked out his ass, which is why I’m so confused about the shit I do with Gabriel. I love his firm, bubbly ass. It’s too round and squeezable to belong on a man’s backside. That’s the problem here. Gabe just has a feminine ass. And mouth. And beautiful, dark chocolate eyes that melt whenever he sees me, like I’m his favorite fucking person in the world.
I hate that I sort of love that.
Other than his too pretty to be masculine face, there’s nothing feminine about him. He’s tall, maybe an inch or two shorter than me. Since I’m seeing him shirtless for only the third time ever, it’s impossible to miss just how thick his upper arms are now since he’s filled out over the years. I’ve always loved the badass dragon tattoo crawling around his right arm, one I knew he drew himself, one of his very first designs. His naturally tan chest is broad with a dusting of dark hair leading down to his narrow waist. And yeah, he’s got a thick, juicy ass under his black board shorts, but I had never noticed it before that night I got arrested. It was hard to miss then since his pants were pulled down so that some big ass guy could fuck him over his dresser…
My cock twitches in my shorts, reminding me exactly how I felt when I was taking in that whole scene. I had never seen two men together before or thought about being with another man until I was being slapped in the face with it.
