by Colbie Kay
Pulling up to the pump at the gas station, Lucas goes into the store to pay, and when he comes out, I step out of the car into the cold air to get the gas. At the pump next to us, someone pulls up, and when he swivels around, my mouth drops open in surprise. Nathan.
“Babe, get back in the car, I’ll get the gas,” Lucas says as he returns to the car.
“Tink?” Nathan’s voice rings out from the other side.
Lucas’s eyes widen. “Nate.”
“Wow!” He chuckles and shakes his head. “Out of all the places to see each other after what, three or four years?”
“Yeah,” Lucas mumbles, rolling his eyes. “How you been?”
Nathan smiles like he’s on top of the world. “Good! You remember Shelly? We’re getting married.”
“Good for you,” Lucas deadpans.
Nathan’s eyes land on me. “Jorga Lankford.” His grin falls. “What the hell happened to you?”
My eyes narrow on my ex, and anger bubbles inside of me. Rude much? I see he hasn’t changed.
Lucas’s arm settles around my waist as he tugs me into him. His hold on me is tight and protective.
“Nate,” Lucas growls his name in warning. I glance up at Lucas to see his jaw clenching, and his eyes glaring at his once best friend.
Nathan’s finger points between us as he guffaws, “Wait, are you two together?”
Lucas’s body stiffens against mine. “What if we are, Nate?”
Shaking his head, Nathan snickers, “I guess you two fit together now.”
I’ve been trying to stay quiet, but I can’t hold back any longer. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He shrugs as if it should be easy to figure out. “Lucas was always an ugly son of a bitch, and now, you…well…”
Wiggling out of Lucas’s hold on me, I storm over to Nathan and point to myself. “I’m a survivor, and that’s a beauty you will never know, asshole.” Kicking my knee upward, I make contact between his.
“Ahh!” He groans as he doubles over. “It was a joke, damn it.”
“You were never funny.” I stomp away and slide into my seat, slamming the door shut.
“I’m so fuckin’ proud of you, Jorga,” Lucas tells me when he gets in on the passenger side, and immediately smashes his lips against mine.
Beaming from his praise, I admit, “I’m proud of myself.”
“I’m so full,” I grumble as Lucas and I enter the kitchen from the garage. Wobbling over to the refrigerator, I place the extra food Mom sent home with us on a spare shelf. As I’m closing the door, I glance at Lucas while he’s checking his phone. His long black hair falls past his shoulders, and I don’t know what it is, but I feel a deep ache forming. “I’m going to take a quick shower.”
“Okay.” His eyes drift to me, and that ache becomes stronger.
Rushing into the bathroom, I turn the water on and undress while it heats up. The steam makes me disappear in the bathroom mirror. I still have moments of disgust when I see myself.
As I’m washing my body, Lucas never leaves my thoughts, and that pounding ache surfaces stronger than ever. No more than ten minutes later, I hop out and race to dry off. Biting down on my lip, I take a few deep breaths, building my courage, and grab my phone off the bathroom counter to send him a text.
I need your help
I situate myself on top of the counter and wait for him.
My phone pings with a new text. I automatically assume it’s from one of my brothers, but when I look at my screen, Jorga’s name appears. I frown in confusion.
I need your help
What the hell does she need help with in the bathroom? I jump from the couch in, worrying she might have hurt herself. Quickly striding to her bathroom, I fly through the door. “Babe, you okay?” Nothing appears to be wrong at first glance.
“No, I’m not,” She replies. She’s sitting naked on the counter.
I swallow hard seeing her perky, full tits and thick thighs on full display. “What’s wrong?” My voice is rougher.
Her gaze locks with mine. “Come closer,” She tells me.
I take the last few steps and stop when I’m directly in front of her. My hands itch to reach out and touch her satin, smooth skin. It’s been killing me to take things slow with her, but I’m not going to pressure her into something she’s not ready for. “What’s wrong?” I repeat my question a little breathlessly.
“I have this ache.” Her tone is sultry, seductive. “I need you to make it go away.”
My Adam’s apple bobs with the hard gulp I take. I run my tongue along my dry lips. “How?” I barely get that one word past the tightness in my throat. My heart is beating wildly.
Her hooded eyes are full of want and desire as she whispers, “I need you to touch me.”
“Touch you where?” I growl as my cock grows, craving her.
She holds out her hand, and I place mine in hers. Pulling me closer to her, I’m standing between her parted thighs. “Here.” She presses my hand between her thighs not quite touching her pussy. Lifting her legs, she opens them wider and rests her feet on the counter.
My hungry gaze travels down lower, memorizing every beautiful inch of her perfect body, scars and all. “Jesus, Jorga.” I blow out a deep breath of air as my cock becomes hard as steel at the mere sight of her pretty pink pussy. It glistens with her need, her desire.
Running my fingers through her slit, I gather her wetness and glide my way up to her clit. “Lucas,” She moans my name as my own breath hitches.
With light gentle strokes, I caress her, slowly building her up, pushing her toward the bliss she so desperately seeks. “Does it feel good, Babe?”
“Yes,” She gasps. “God, yes.”
“No God here, Angel. I want to taste you. Can I taste you?” I will her to say yes, to make my fuckin’ dreams become a reality. Many times, I’ve wondered what she would feel like against me, what she would taste like. I wondered if I could make her scream my name.
Her eyes flutter open, and she nods her head a fraction, but it’s enough. I know she’s giving me permission.
Moving my hands away from her, I place my palms on either side of the counter. Lowering my head, I swirl my tongue around one of her tight buds. I suck it into my mouth, gently biting her flesh before releasing it and gliding over to the other. Dropping lower, I reach her pussy. The tip of my tongue runs through her folds as my finger did moments ago.
“Lucas,” She cries my name.
“Do you like this?” I ask before pressing small, hard circles around her clit. My tongue flicks against her sensitive spot.
“Don’t stop, Lucas. Please, don’t stop,” She begs, her voice a whimper.
My movements quicken as her legs begin to tremble.
“Lucas! Oh…oh…oh…Lucas!” Her fingers latch onto my hair as she pulls me into her further.
I suck her clit into my mouth, edging her closer. “Come for me,” I murmur and continue my assault.
Driving two digits inside of her, I scissor them, pushing in and out. Her walls are tightening around my fingers.
“Lucas!” She screams out as her body convulses.
I continue lapping at her until the wave of her orgasm fades.
Standing up straighter, my mouth only centimeters from hers, I tilt my head to the side a fraction. “Is that what you needed?” Beads of precum leak from the tip of my cock. I’m going to need to take care of this problem as if I was a teenage boy again.
She lazily smiles and nods.
“I have my own need now, Babe.” Without shame, I step back until I hit the opposite wall. Undoing my jeans, I pull them down my legs. “Don’t fuckin’ move,” I command in a growl. I have a clear and direct line of sight to her soaked pussy, her full tits with their hard-rosy peaks, and her chest still heaving with labored breaths. Fisting my cock, I work my hand up and down my length. Jorga’s eyes stare into mine as my breathing begins to match hers.
“Lucas,” She mewls, opening her legs wid
er.
“You tasted fuckin’ sweet. So wet.” My eyes roll back, and my strokes quicken.
“Take your shirt off,” She orders me.
I rush to rip it over my head and immediately grasp my cock once again.
“You’re so sexy and big,” She praises, sliding her hand down her body. Finding her spot, she rubs her clit.
“Fuckin’ hell!” I roar as I stroke myself faster, harder.
“Are you going to come?” Her tone might sound innocent, yet it’s filled with danger.
“Soon.” I watch her finger push inside herself then back to her clit, moving slowly, dragging her wetness up to where she craves it. Her quiet moans grow louder until suddenly, she stops and jumps off the counter.
“No!” I yell harsher than intended. “Why did you stop?”
She sashays toward me. “I want to taste you too. Can I taste you?”
My tongue runs along my bottom lip before I bite down and nod. She drops to her knees, her tongue lapping the precum that has collected at my tip. Humming with pleasure, she sucks me into her mouth.
I hiss, feeling of her soft lips wrapped around my rock-hard cock, “Fuck, Jorga!” My hands slap against the bathroom wall as my eyes roll into the back of my head. She can’t fit me completely, but I feel the crown of my dick hit the back of her throat, and I groan at how good it feels. Better than any of those club whores.
Her head bobs continuously, taking me deeper each time. She tries to control her gag reflex, but I only focus on how goddamn amazing her mouth feels, how hot and wet it is, how fuckin’ good she is sucking me off.
“Jorga, you need to move,” I warn her.
Without stopping, she shakes her head and takes me into the back of her throat one final time. Her throat tightens around me, she’s swallowing, milking my cock. I roar out her name as my release shoots from my body. My legs tremble as she continues until the very last drop of my orgasm is expelled.
She pulls back, smiling up at me. “Was that okay?”
I slide down the wall, my ass cheeks hitting the cold tile floor, and I shake my head. “No, it wasn’t okay, it was fuckin’ perfect.” I try to control my breathing, staring into her stunning amber eyes. “You never finished the second time.”
“That’s okay.” She grins sheepishly. “I was trying to help you.”
Reaching up, I twirl strands of her hair around my finger. “I loved the help, but it’s not okay. I think we should go into your room, and I’ll help you a little more.”
She stands up, her gaze never leaving mine. “I think we both could use some more help.” She is shining with bliss. For the rest of my life, I’ll make damn sure she looks as happy as she does right now.
“Now that our clubhouse is up and running again, we need to build our supply back up.” I’m sitting in my seat around our table in church listening to Hanger speak, “We’re going to need to make a trip to Kansas City. We’ll be gone for a few days, and I want everyone riding along. We’ll have the women and children stay here with the prospects while we’re gone.”
“Did you get what I asked for?” I ask with a pounding pulse. I can’t fuckin’ believe I’m about to ask Jorga to be my Ol’ Lady.
A shit-eating grin appears on his smug face as he bends over in his chair and sets a box on the table. “You mean this?” He opens the box and holds up a property cut. On the front is a patch that says Angel, and when he turns it around, the rockers say Property of Tink in big bold letters.
My smile grows impossibly larger. “Yes.”
Whoops and yells fill the room as my brothers congratulate me.
Hanger turns serious when the excitement dies down. “Alright, be ready. We ride out at 9:00 A.M.” Slamming the gavel down, he dismisses church.
Before leaving the room, I take the cut from him and draw in a deep breath. “What if she says no?” I stare at my president with terrified eyes. A fear I’ve never known settles within me, and I hand him the cut back. “It’s only a couple weeks until Christmas, I’ll save it for then.”
“She won’t. We’ve all seen how much y’all love each other, brother. Don’t doubt that.” He slaps his hand on my shoulder. “Claim your woman when you’re ready.”
“Jesus, I’m sweating.” I wipe the beads of sweat gathered on my forehead. “How the hell did all of you do this?”
Hanger’s brow cocks. “You wanna be with other women, Tink?”
I frown in disgust. “Fuck no!”
He laughs. “That’s how we did it. When that one woman comes into your life and smacks the fuckin’ sense into you out of fuckin’ nowhere, making you realize you weren’t a goddamn thing before her, then that’s it.”
“Jorga is definitely it.”
“That’s all the reassurance you need.”
With a newfound determination, I storm out of the clubhouse.
We ride into the gates of the Blood Maker’s MC compound and park our Harleys amongst theirs. “Alright, brothers, this is our stopping point. I’ve known Ranger, the president, for years and was first introduced to him through Bulk. Let’s mind our business, make the deals if they’re good, and get home in one piece.”
“Aye,” Everyone shouts in sync.
Strolling through the doors of their clubhouse, we’re greeted by a line of women waiting and wanting. Without entertaining any thoughts of them, we step past. Business first, play later. Hanger leads us to a table surrounded by men. Only one stands.
“Hanger.” The man tilts his head up.
“Ranger.”
“Glad you made it. Shall we?” The rest of his men get to their feet, and he leads us down a narrow hallway until we come to the very back room. As soon as he opens the door, we all pile in. A stack of saran-wrapped bricks sits on a wooden table. Six empty chairs line the table three on each side. Hanger and Ranger take the middle seats on opposite sides of the table. Gunner and Bear take one on both sides of Hanger while two of Ranger’s men sit beside him. The rest of us line up with our clubs.
Ranger grabs the top brick, dropping it on the table. “This is our top of the line, one hundred percent pure heroin straight from Colombia."
Hanger quirks his eyebrow. “Pure? Hasn’t been cut at all?”
Ranger shakes his head with a smirk. “Not at all. It’s shipped directly to me from the distributor in Colombia. It’s then taken to my warehouse and packaged to sell. Here, test it out.” Ranger slides a tester tube across the table with confidence. “Unless one of your men wanna try it out.”
“The tester’s fine,” Hanger grits out.
Ranger chuckles. “Figured as much.”
Pulling a blade from his waist, Ranger stabs it into the wrapped brick. When he pulls the blade out, white powder is collected on the tip. Hanger holds the tester out for Ranger to drop the powder inside. It falls into the liquid, and Hanger begins to slosh it around.
“If it turns a bright orangish-red color, it’s pure. The less color the more it’s been cut,” Ranger explains.
Hanger nods–we already know all of this–and holds the tester out, showing us all the color of the sun setting. “It’s pure.” Hanger smiles. “Bear, get Snake on the phone and tell him to transfer the money.”
After the deal is made, we load one of our vans with the supply of heroin to take back to Snake. Pretty Boy and Chayser are sent back to Wichita in the van with Doc and Writer following. The rest of us will stick around here to meet with the gun and ammo supplier tomorrow evening, but all I want to do is hear Jorga’s voice.
We're on the third day of the guys being gone, the third day we’re holed up in this clubhouse with prospects watching over us. I've really gotten to know all the ladies and their kids over the last few days. It's been fun, but I think we are all anxiously waiting for the men to return.
"Hey, Jorga?" Sierra's voice draws my attention to her as she joins me at one of the tables in the bar.
Everyone else is getting their kids to sleep. A gnawing pain tightens in my chest–I’ll never hav
e that. I’ll never be able to tuck my child in at night or lay with them, reading them a story until they fall asleep. I’ll never have what this group of women have, and that makes me sad and angry because it got ripped away from me. My choice was stolen.
"Yeah?" I ask with a forced grin.
"When do you think Tink's going ask you to be his Ol' Lady?"
"I don't know." I shrug. "I don't even really know what that means."
She grins. "Oh, girl, Chatty will tell you all about it."
Chatty sets a glass in front of me filled with a dark liquid. “Tell her about what?”
She sits beside me, and I take a sip from the glass. I grimace as the taste hits my tongue. It’s more alcohol than anything. “Good, God!” I choke.
Sierra snickers, "About being an Ol' Lady."
"Ah.” Chatty nods in understanding. “I’ve been one the longest out of our bunch."
"Twice." Zoey joins our table with the rest of the ladies in tow. "Her first husband Ripper was killed."
My eyes widen, and I gape at Chatty. "I'm so sorry."
She gives me a small smile. "Thanks. It took me a long time to get over his death, and it took even longer for me to move on, but I have Gunner now, and we have our baby girl. A piece of me still loves Ripper and always will." She waves her hand in front of her and blinks away the unshed tears. "Anyway, being an Ol' Lady is the most important title you can hold. To our men, it’s a badge of honor and even more important than having that wife status. It's respect, and when you wear your property cut, everyone knows who you belong to. No one will fuck with you. If you say yes when he asks you, and you put that cut on, you gain responsibility within this world. You are saying you will protect your man no matter what, you will die beside him or for him as he would for you. That title says you live by the laws of the club, and you respect the life your man lives. He doesn't talk about what happens within the club, and you ask no questions. You trust that everything he does is to protect you and his family within the club and out of it. Never doubt him."
