by K. S. Ellis
Letting out a shuddering breath, I return my attention to finishing up my cooking. They're having "Church", Strafe informs me when he wanders in for dinner, his eyes lighting up when he spots the spaghetti bolognese, though he happily accepts some biscuits and gravy and a slice of cake as well. We eat together in relative silence. I'm not sure what's going on in his head, but I'm all thought out after my heart to hearts with Aric and Tammy-Lynn. It felt quite cathartic, really, to tell Aric. And he was so darn sweet about it. That surprised me; I didn't think he had that in him. I kind of wish he didn't, really. Because now that I know there's such sweetness lurking beneath that rough, sexy exterior, it's really going to mess me up when he's done with me.
I really need to be careful. I can’t afford to lose my heart to Aric. When he’s done with me, I’m already going to be picking up the pieces of my life, trying to find a job and pay off my credit cards. Add heartbreak on top of that? Not smart, sugar, I tell myself sternly. Aric’s not my boyfriend. He’s my… I have no idea what. He’s the biker that has me living on his sofa because I’m his sex slave. That’s who he is, and I can’t forget it, not even for a second. Not if I want to walk away from all this semi-human at the end.
When Strafe finishes, he quickly washes his dishes before heading back to the bar area. I eat more slowly, and take my time cleaning up the kitchen, but when I wander back out into the bar area, Aric and the other "officers" are still missing. So I ignore the spattering of men and groupies who watch me carefully, whispering and gossiping about me no doubt, and make my way upstairs.
After I shower, my eyes fall on the stupid sofa, and the shopping bag Conrad dumped there earlier today, and I feel a grin creeping across my face as I remember my little plan to get off that damn uncomfortable thing. Because Aric’s not done with me yet. And if I’m going to end up heartbroken and messed up, I might as well go all out. And I might as well be comfortable each night.
Chapter 17
ARIC
I stretch my arms above my head as I stand from the table, Dad having just banged his gavel to declare this session of Church over. Without going into too many details, I have let everyone know that fucker Cory Channing is blackmailing Lena, and that he wants her to do something else; something for someone else other than us. Dad ordered Killer to take someone and tail him, to find out what he's up to, and who might be shaking him down. Strafe is sitting at the bar, and hands me a bourbon when I drop onto the stool beside him.
'Spaghetti for dinner,' he grins, knocking back his drink. 'And Lena made a weird cake. Tasted pretty good.' I just nod, lost in thought. Speaking of Lena, I look around, but I can't see her anywhere.
'She went upstairs,' Strafe pours us another drink. 'Right after she finished in the kitchen.' I nod again. It probably should bother me that he knew straight away that I was looking for her, but right now, I don't fucking care. I knock back my drink and get to my feet. I'll just go and check in on her, I tell myself. Just to make sure she's okay after today. Yeah, that's the reason.
When I get upstairs and quietly let myself into the room it's dark, so she's clearly asleep, and my eyes fall onto the sofa. The very empty sofa. I frown, Strafe was sure that she was definitely up here. I hear a rustling further into the room and my eyes are drawn to my bed. She's curled up in the middle of it, tucked under the sheets, fast asleep. I can feel my eyebrows rise, because apart from when I fuck her there, she never goes near the bed.
Lena took my words that very first day to heart. Occasionally, when I would get in after a late ride, or Church session, or just from drinking, and see her curled up asleep on the sofa in her fucking matching satin pajamas, I would get the urge to pick her up and drop her onto my bed, fuck her senseless, and let her sleep there, but I always held back. She seems happy on the sofa, and if she wants boundaries, then she can have them. After all, every time I have wanted to fuck her, she has been up for it. Can't really ask for more than that. Considering our arrangement.
Walking over to the bed, I reach over and tug the sheets down, and fucking freeze. I need to start donating to fucking churches. Never had much use for a god before, but he seems to fucking like me. Her honey blonde hair is spread out over the pillows, and I can see her face, illuminated by the moonlight as it is; she looks relaxed and innocent in her sleep. Below the neck though, she's anything but fucking innocent right now. Her little kid pajamas are gone, and she's wearing a fucking see-through, lace dress that comes to mid thigh. Though, in her sleep, it has ridden considerably higher. It's light grey, with black stitching in the lace, and a small black ribbon tied in a bow underneath her perky tits, which are being pushed up by the dress. She's wearing matching panties underneath it and the fucking sight of her has me almost creaming in my pants. She moves in her sleep, probably missing the sheets, since the air conditioning is on in here, and the lace at her thigh bunches higher, and I'm pretty sure I stop fucking breathing.
I quickly strip to my boxers, and then, thinking about it, tug them off too before crawling onto the bed. Starting at her ankles, I run my hands up her legs, my lips trailing after. I think she wakes up just after I pass her knee, because she twitches slightly, but otherwise, she doesn't move. My lips catch up with my hands when I reach the lace at the bottom of her sexy little nightie, and I push it higher as her breathing quickens, until it's bunched up at her stomach, and I tug off her lacy panties with my teeth. Once they're off, I focus my attention back at the apex of her thighs. Lying down between her legs, I use my shoulders to spread them wide and she moans when my breath hits her pussy.
I pause for a moment, blowing softly, until her fingers tangle in my hair and she tugs my head closer. Her breath flutters and her moans pick up pace as my tongue finds her clit and slowly circles it. Rolling the nub between my teeth, I suck it slowly as I feel her orgasm build. Before she can come though, I move up her body, kissing and licking as I tug the lacy thing over her head, tossing it onto the end of the bed over my shoulder, before my mouth finds hers. Lena moans into my mouth as I tease her opening with the head of my cock. When I pop the tip in, her head falls back and she moans again, her eyes closing, and I grit my teeth. I start to pull out of her, but her legs come up and her heels hit my ass, locking me there.
'Where are you going?' she whimpers, and I can hear the need in her tone.
'Condom,' I groan, moving away again.
'I'm on birth control,' she whispers, sliding her hands up my chest, her heels still digging into my ass. Well, fuck. That almost makes me come right there. I'm allowed to bare back? She could have fucking mentioned this earlier. I groan again, slowly sinking further and further into her until I'm buried to the hilt. It's slow, sweet agony, and I withdraw and sink in again, keeping the same slow, torturous pace. I can feel her orgasm building again, and her heels start kicking against my ass as she urges me to move faster. A smirk forms on my lips.
Since I'm ever ready to please Lena in the bedroom, I pick up the pace, roughly thrusting as she loses control and comes hard, my name falling off her lips in a guttural moan. My own release isn't far behind, and then I collapse onto her, sucking in a lungful of air. I eventually pull out, rolling onto my back and tugging her against my chest, pulling the sheets up over us. She settles on top of my chest comfortably, feeling too fucking right in my arms, as she yawns and I hear her breathing start to even out as she falls asleep.
I have the best fucking sleep of my life, and when I wake up, she's still snuggled up on my chest, naked, and I smirk as I catch sight of her lacy outfit lying crumpled at our feet. Not fucking sure what that was all about, but I fucking loved it. Her hair tickles my chin as she moves when she wakes, and her sleepy eyes look up at mine.
'Sorry I slept here last night,' she mumbles, looking nervous. I prop myself up against the headboard, with one arm hooked behind my head, the other hand tracing lazy circles over her soft skin.
'No skin off my nose,' I grin down at her. 'You can sleep here any time if that's what you wear to bed.' My eyes flic
ker over the lacy nightie again, and a smirk slowly creeps over her face.
'That was my evil plan,' she says dryly.
'Well,' I smirk back at her, 'mission fucking accomplished.'
'Your sofa is super uncomfortable.' I raise my eyebrows at that. If it's so bad then why didn't she say something sooner? Fucking stubborn women.
'Replace it then,' I tell her with a shrug, and I see an uncertain smile replace her smirk.
'Replace your sofa?' she clarifies. I shrug again. 'My sofa, my desk, whatever fucking thing in here you want to change, doesn't bother me.' I can see that my words have thrown her, and I smirk again before running a finger over her soft bottom lip and climbing out of the bed.
Chapter 18
LENA
Aric is not in the clubhouse when I come downstairs after my shower and I find Tammy-Lynn in the kitchen, doing the dishes.
'Want to come run errands with me again?' she asks, as I sit down with a slice of toast. I glance up at her in surprise, but she seems sincere in her invitation.
'Uh, sure,' I tell her, and then glance down at my clothes. 'Should I change?' Her eyes run over my navy dress, with its giant pussy bow at the throat, also navy, but with a thick white outline, short capped sleeves, a nipped waist, and a skirt that falls to just below my knees. I'm wearing 1920s-style black kitten heels and the neckline is so high that when I swallow hard, I can feel the material scraping the front of my throat.
'No,' she smirks. 'Leave it on. You shouldn't have to dress differently than you want to just because of who your boyfriend is.' I blush at her use of the word "boyfriend" because that's not really what's happening between Aric and I. But I can hardly tell his momma that, Jesus.
'Aric said that I can replace any of the furniture in his room, if I want,' I tell Tammy-Lynn, eyeing her carefully to gauge her reaction. She almost crashes the darn car, looking over at me, her eyes shining.
'Oh my goodness! Why didn't you say anything?' she gushes, indicating and turning the car down a completely different street, no longer heading for any of the club's businesses. 'I've been waiting forever for this chance!' she trills. I can feel my eyebrows flying up my forehead, but I don't say anything, until we pull up at a furniture store.
'I wasn't really going to change anything, though,' I murmur as we walk through the doors and she grabs a catalogue.
'Nonsense,' she scoffs, throwing a look at me over her shoulder. 'Lena, you sleep on black satin sheets.' Oh yeah, I blanch, she's got a point. Besides, I have to live in that room too, for the moment, and if she does it all, then really, I'm in the clear, right?
In the end we have about four salespeople trailing us. At first they seemed wary of us, but when Tammy-Lynn flashed her credit card, they came running. Who knows, maybe it was my attire that made them think she was someone important, like a rock star's wife, with her PA, but they're super obsequious to her. After asking me what my room used to look like at home, which you know I lied about, she ducked off to make a phone call, and by the time we are leaving the store, she's bought half the darn place.
By the time we actually get onto our errands, Julianna is glaring at us as we walk into the nightclub, her platinum blonde hair swinging around her shoulders and her blood red nails like talons tapping out a staccato on the bar.
'There you are!' she exclaims, her eyes narrowing when they catch sight of me, and my outfit. 'I was expecting you hours ago!'
'Oh,' Tammy-Lynn beams at her, grabbing my arm and propelling me forward. 'Lena is making over Aric's room, since he's not a bachelor anymore, so I've been bullying her into buying new everything!' She laughs a little too hard, before snatching the bank bag and folder off the bar and tugging me out of there while Julianna throws death glares at my retreating head. Tammy-Lynn's words stick in my head. I'm starting to feel a little bit sick that we've gone overboard.
Hannah isn't working when we get to the strip club, some other woman is behind the bar, and Tammy-Lynn accepts a glass of vodka from her and chats while I stand awkwardly off to the side. It's a lot busier than the last time we were here, probably because it's a bit later in the day. We really were furniture shopping for far too long. There are a large number of bikers in here, most wearing Wild Hawks MC vests and jackets, but I don't recognize any of them. When I look closely, I realize that the back of their leather jackets, under the Wild Hawks logo it doesn't read San Remo, CA as I'm used to seeing, but Phoenix, AZ.
One burly biker with a beard down to his chest sidles up to me, looking me up and down, and then a creepy grin spreads across his face that makes me shudder.
'Hello there, baby girl,' he drawls as he makes a blatant grab at my chest. Before he can grab my tits, Tammy-Lynn is suddenly beside him, knocking his hand out of the way.
'This is Aric's woman,' she tells him sternly, like she's a teacher telling off a misbehaving student. His eyes sweep me again and he snorts.
'Yeah fucking right,' they're lingering on the pussy bow at my throat. 'No way Aric's old lady runs around dressed like this.'
'She's Aric's old lady,' Tammy-Lynn's eyes narrow at him, 'she dresses however the fuck she wants.' Grabbing my arm, she steers me out of there and doesn't speak again until we are in her Jeep, heading towards the tattoo parlor. I have no idea why they kept calling me old. Seems a bit harsh. I’m only twenty-six for fuck’s sake. Frowning, I turn to tell her that I didn’t appreciate the way she was speaking about me when I see the angry look on her face, my words die on my tongue.
'They were from the Phoenix chapter,' she tells me. 'I didn't know they were in town. The first stop they should have made when they got into San Remo is to the clubhouse. It’s strange that they didn't.' Her eyes run over me as we pull up at the tattoo parlor, and she shakes her head as we make our way inside. This is why I suggested I change, darn it. I shouldn’t have listened to her when she told me to keep this on.
Cockerel grins at me, and Mia, the girl at the counter stares with her mouth open. Oh yeah, the last time I was here I was in jeans and sneakers. They probably think I look stupid.
'You sure I can't tempt you into getting that free tattoo?' Cockerel teases me, waggling his eyebrows, and I open my mouth to laugh and refuse, when Tammy-Lynn cuts across me.
'Terrific idea,' she smirks, 'I've got the perfect design in mind.' I spin around to stare at her, my eyes wide with shock and yeah, a bit of fear. I hate needles. 'Aric is going to love it, it's a perfect surprise,' she coos, patting me on the shoulder as Mia jumps off her stool and hurries over to get me settled into a chair. Mechanically, I allow her to sit me down, while Tammy-Lynn moves across the room and speaks with Cockerel, who flashes a wicked grin in my direction as he nods.
I can't look. Like I said, I hate needles. So I just sit there with my eyes clenched tighter than my jaw as the fucking needle stabs the inside of my wrist again and again. It's not as painful as I thought it would be, but still. What the hell am I doing? Why the hell did my tongue have to pick this moment to freeze up? I don’t want a fucking tattoo. Why can’t I find the words to tell them all to fuck off? I want to peek so badly, to know just what they’re marking me with, since they’ve yet to let me know what their design is, let alone ask me for my permission for Heaven’s sake. That’s it, I’m going to tell them where to shove it and that I don’t want a tattoo…
'All done, sweetheart,' Cockerel wipes my wrist and chuckles as I peek out, the muscles around my eyes and in my jaw protesting when they finally get to move again. It's rather a beautiful work of art, objectively. It's the two hawks diving towards each other which is the club insignia. The detail is remarkable for such a small tattoo. It's like the one Hannah has, I remember. And Aric has a large one splashed across his upper back. But underneath mine is a single word. Aric.
Well, fuck. His momma has gone and branded me with his darn name. Oh, he is going to be pissed about this. I’m a little afraid of facing him tonight. What with his entire fucking room being made over by his momma and now this? This is seriously stepp
ing over a line. Can tattoos even be removed? Before I can fully hyperventilate at the idea of having Aric’s name branded on my flesh for the rest of my life that I’m going to have to live without him in it, Mia is telling me about after care. I can feel my head nodding along to her instructions, and taking the pack she hands me, but I'm not really listening.
I numbly follow Tammy-Lynn out of the tattoo parlor. Between getting his name tattooed on my inner wrist and making over his entire room, he's either going to kill me, or his momma. My eyes fall on the lingerie store next to the tattoo parlor and I have an idea that may save at least my life. Fuck it, Tammy-Lynn’s on her own, and I’m totally throwing her under the bus when Aric sees it all and loses his shit. I call out to Tammy-Lynn that I need a moment, and I can see her smirking after me as I disappear into the store.
When we get back to the clubhouse, there's a damn delivery truck in the parking lot. Tammy-Lynn claps her hands delightedly.
'I paid extra for same day delivery,' she tells me, laughing like a kid.
I grab my bags and rush upstairs, my mouth dropping open. Hang-arounds, in their plain leather jackets, have moved all the furniture down the hall. I can see the desk sitting half out of one of the other doors, and they've painted the whole room a pale lavender shade. Oh my god. I'm dead. I'm so, so dead. The new furniture is being assembled in the room, and I numbly point out where they should put it. Not that I really care, though I do make sure that the bed is in the exact same place as the old one, remembering the first time we had sex with a small shiver of pleasure. Tammy-Lynn marches in and I help her make the bed with the new cream cotton sheets on autopilot, and manage to shoo her away before she goes through my lingerie.
