by Ivy Black
My moan echoes around the shower stall as I continue jerking myself off, thinking about having my staff buried deep inside of her. I imagine what it’s like to kiss her, have her tongue in my mouth and her hands on my body as I fuck her.
I pump my staff harder, imagining myself on top of her. I can feel her soft, supple skin beneath me and feel her legs wrapped around my waist. She clings to me tightly, her moans and gasps echoing through my mind as I drive myself into her again and again.
My breathing is ragged, and my heart is racing as I feel myself building to a climax, picturing myself sheathed inside of her as I stare into her dark eyes. And as my cock starts to pulse in my hand, I moan, Bellamy’s name crossing my lips as I erupt, shooting thick ropes of cum that are washed down the drain.
I lean my head against the tile again, letting those pleasant post-orgasm tingles course through me. And as that glow begins to fade, so, too, does the image of Bellamy in my mind. And as it does, I know I’m in trouble. I can already feel myself falling back into old feelings for her once more. Emotions that I thought were long dead and buried, that I haven’t given thought to in years, rise to the surface again.
But then, I recall the smile on her lips and that gleam in her eye as we spoke earlier and think to myself that this time could be different. That my affection might not go unrequited this time.
“This time will be different,” I vow quietly to myself.
Chapter Nine
Bellamy
The waitress refills our mimosas then hustles off to see to her other guests. I take a sip and settle the champagne flute down on the table. The storm that blew through last night had been violent but quick. The dark clouds that had socked us in last night, sending sheets of rain cascading down and spitting out blinding bolts of lightning had given way to a perfectly azure sky. Patches of thick and fluffy white clouds drifted lazily across the blue, making it a picturesque afternoon.
“This was a fantastic idea, Rube. I definitely needed a little R&R, and a lot of this,” I say and raise my glass to her.
“You can never go wrong with mimosas,” she says.
“No, you cannot.”
We’re sitting on the back deck, overlooking the waters of the Pacific. The sunlight sparkles off the surface of the ocean and I watch as the breakers roll onto the shore. The sets are decent, and that’s brought out the surfers who are cutting and slicing along the face of those waves. Even from up here, fifty feet above the water, I can hear them laughing and hollering to one another.
I eagerly tuck into my meal, and as soon as the first bite of my eggs Benedict hits my tongue, I make a sound that probably sounds obscene. Not that I care. It’s been years since I’ve had Eggs Benedict at Bailey’s on the Bay, which has been a popular place for brunch for time out of mind. It’s an institution in Blue Rock. And for my money, there is no place in the world that makes Eggs Benedict better than Bailey’s.
“I have seriously missed this,” I say.
Ruby grins. “I can tell by the porn star noises you’re making over there.”
“Shut up,” I say with a laugh.
We eat in companionable silence for a little while, finishing up our meals. When there isn’t a crumb left on my plate, I finally push it away and sit back.
“That was amazing,” I say.
“Well, now that you’re home, we can make this a habit,” Ruby replies.
“Sounds good to me. I need time out of the house now and again.”
“And how are things going at home? How is your mom doing?”
I shrug. “She’s putting on a brave face. But she’s in more pain than she’ll ever let on.”
“She’s a tough woman.”
I nod. “Too tough for her own good sometimes.”
Ruby laughs softly. “The apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree.”
“Please. I’m nowhere near as stubborn as she is.”
She arches an eyebrow at me as she takes a sip of her mimosa. “If you say so.”
I smile and shake my head. If there’s one thing I can count on Ruby for, it’s always giving me the unvarnished truth as she sees it. She’s not a girl who sugarcoats things and will tell you like it is. Even if you don’t want to hear it. That’s not always a bad thing. Her blunt honesty is actually refreshing. It’s not something you get from people too much anymore these days. It’s something I value in her. Always have.
“It’s difficult, to be honest,” I tell her. “Seeing her withering away like she is… it’s breaking my heart, Rube.”
She frowns and reaches across the table. Grabbing hold of my hand, she gives it a squeeze. Her face is etched with sympathy, but I know she can’t relate. Both of her parents are still alive and doing well. But I appreciate her being my shoulder to cry on when I need one.
“I can’t even begin to imagine, but my heart’s breaking with you,” she says.
“Thanks, Rube.”
“I’m just glad you reconciled with her before… well… you know. I’m glad you two will be able to spend time together. And I’m sure she’s glad for it as well.”
I nod. “She is. We’ve had some really good days together since I’ve been back. It’s been really nice reconnecting with her again.”
A gull circles lazily overhead, its plaintive cry echoing through the air around us. It’s a low, mournful sound filled with the sadness the fills the deepest reaches of my soul. I finish my mimosa and hold my glass up, catching the attention of the waitress who gives me a nod.
“Speaking of reconnecting, you’ll never guess who I ran into last night,” I say.
“Tell me.”
“Derek Moore.”
Her eyes widen slightly and the smile on her face stretches wide. She was the only person in my life back then who actively encouraged me to talk with him. Ruby was always more down to earth than anybody else, and she didn’t think about people in terms of their stations in life. She and I were, and I suppose still are, the sort of people who take others as we find them.
Ruby had encouraged me to pursue something with him if it was what I wanted. She always told me to stop thinking about which clique he belonged to and to stop worrying about what other people thought. Ruby’s advice was always to do what made me happy, damn anybody else’s opinion. It was always great advice. But I was never always able to follow it.
“I should have known by that twinkle in your eye,” she says, her grin widening.
“What? I don’t have a twinkle in my eye.”
“Oh, yes you do, babe. It’s the same twinkle you used to get whenever he’d walk by back in the day.”
“That is so not true,” I scoff.
“Who do you think you’re trying to fool here? I remember those long conversations full of teenage angst well. So, don’t think you can put one over on me,” she teases.
I take a drink of my mimosa to hide the flush creeping into my cheeks. There actually were a lot of long, drawn out, angsty conversations back then that I’d forgotten about. Selective amnesia, apparently. But I tell her about my encounter with him yesterday and share my thoughts about it, and as I do, my mind drifts back to those long-ago days when I never would have dreamed of having a conversation or a flirtation with him in public like that.
“Honestly, looking back at it all now, I have no idea what all the angst was about to begin with,” I say.
“What do you mean?”
“Just that… the things that seemed so important, so life-altering, and monumental… I look back at things now and think about how ridiculous it all seems. The things I did or didn’t do because I feared what my friends would say… it just appalls me now,” I say.
Ruby’s smile is soft. “It’s all part of growing up. I know that I look at the things I thought were so important back then and want to kick my own ass.”
“Maybe. But the thing is, you never let people sway your opinion. You did what you wanted and didn’t care what other people thought. You’ve always had a courage that I lacked. It�
��s one of the things I’ve always admired about you the most,” I tell her.
“Please. I think you’ve romanticized things in your absence,” she says with a laugh. “I wasn’t all that courageous.”
“You really were. You never let the opinions of our friends stop you from doing what you wanted.”
She shrugs. “That’s not really courage. That’s just not wanting to live my life the way other people tell me to.”
“Well, I consider that courage. Courage I never had.”
“Maybe not back then. But I can see how much you’ve grown and changed over the years, Bell. I mean, look at you… flirting with him? Positively shameless. I’m so proud of you,” she says with a laugh.
Being provocative and flirtatious is definitely not my strong suit. I’ve always been something of a wallflower if I’m being honest. But there was just something about standing there with Derek last night, something in the way he looked at me that made me feel… bold. Daring. It tore down the walls of self-control I usually keep tightly around me and allowed me to be a little more spontaneous than I normally am. It was different for me and I have to say I enjoyed it.
“So, how does he look?” she asks.
“How have you not seen him? You’re both here in town and have been for a while,” I reply.
“It’s not exactly like we’re moving in the same social circles. I hang out with my husband, parents of my students, and other teachers mostly. My scene is pretty damn boring, to be honest. And he never struck me as the boring type back then.”
I laugh. “Touché.”
“So? I want the details.”
His face flashes into my mind, drawing a smile across my lips that I don’t even bother trying to hide. With Ruby, I know that I’m free to be who I am, and she encourages me to be more open with my thoughts and feelings.
“He’s even better-looking now,” I tell her. “I mean, I always thought he was cute and had this whole bad boy thing working, which was kind of hot. But now? Now, he’s like taken it to a whole new level. He’s like off-the-charts hot.”
And it’s true. With his high cheekbones, chiseled face, and smooth, flawless skin, he’s got a bit of that old Hollywood leading man look about him. He’s tall and fit and judging by those taut biceps I saw peeking out of his T-shirt, his body is sculpted with lean muscle. But it’s those intense hazel eyes and the way his gaze seemed to bore straight into my soul that nearly took my breath away.
“Better looking, huh? That’s not hard to believe… he always was gorgeous. And guys just seem to age better than we do,” she says.
“Well, he’s aged like a fine wine, let me tell you. And he’s still got that bad boy aesthetic working. He’s part of some motorcycle club—”
“You’re kidding me. He’s one of the Dark Pharaohs?”
“Yeah, I think that’s what the patch on his vest said. Why? You know them?”
She laughs. “First of all, it’s called a kutte, not a vest. If you’re going to be a biker’s girlfriend, you need to learn the lingo.”
I can’t help but join her laughter. “Okay, first of all, I never said I was his girlfriend. He invited me for a drink. That’s it,” I say. “And second of all, how do you know so much about motorcycle clubs?”
“I watch TV,” she replies smugly, making me roll my eyes.
“So, tell me about this club. He said that it’s mostly veterans and it’s just a way for them to bond. I think he called it a brotherhood. A support group of sorts.”
She nods. “I don’t know everything about the Pharaohs, obviously. They’re definitely not in my social circle. But from what I’ve heard, yeah, it’s filled with veterans. Most of them have been to war and have come back with some issues. Things that those of us who haven’t been in the middle of a war will never understand or be able to relate to. So, yeah, I can see it being something of a support group.”
I drain the last of my glass and the waitress swings by and refills it. I’ve already had a few and should probably decline, but I don’t. It’s my day off, so to speak, and if I want to get a little tipsy, I will. I’ll sober before I get home so I can better care for my mom, but I don’t see a problem with having a few so I can relax right now.
“But?” I prompt her. “You have that look like you want to say something more.”
“Well… I mean, when you get right down to it, they’re a biker gang. I mean, they deal in drugs, they kill people… they’re probably not good guys, Bell.”
“What? That’s not true. Where did you hear that?”
“It’s just common knowledge. People around here talk.”
A frown touches my lips as I consider her words. I’m not naïve enough to not know that there are biker gangs out there who do some bad things. Violence. Murder. Drugs. Yeah, I’ve read about them. But that was not the vibe I got from Derek. Yeah, he’s got that bad boy thing about him, but to me, it’s more of an edge. Just an aesthetic. He certainly didn’t give me the impression that he’s a gun and drug runner. And he certainly didn’t make me think he’s a stone-cold killer.
“Do you actually believe these rumors, Rube?”
She pauses for a moment then looks up at me. “Honestly, I don’t know what to think about them. I mean, some people think they’re like the guardians of the town or something.”
“The guardians?”
She nods. “From what I understand, most of them are local boys. Grew up here or have claimed it as their home. And some people think they keep the streets clean. Free of drugs and the like.”
“And do you believe that?”
“I’m not sure. I will say that before they moved in here, Blue Rock did have a bit of a drug problem. And that’s gone away. But like they say, correlation does not equal causation. It could be that one thing has nothing to do with the other.”
“Or it could be that people are simply looking for reasons to demonize their club by stereotyping them and casting them as villains in this TV show in their minds.”
“It could be that,” she concedes. “But I do know for a fact they beat the hell out of a guy once… father of one of the students at school actually… and ran him out of town. He never came back.”
“Do you know why they did it?”
“Well… he was abusive and sold drugs. According to gossip, anyway.”
We both fall silent for a moment and I try to reconcile what she’s telling me with my impressions of Derek. I know I’m not the most street-savvy girl to ever walk the Earth, but I like to think I’m not a complete naïve idiot either. I think I can get a read on people pretty well and that my initial impressions are usually right. But I’m not infallible, so could I be wrong about him? Could I be looking at him through nostalgic, rose-tinted glasses?
Ruby gives me a tight smile. “I don’t want to be a total buzzkill here—”
“Too late.” I give her a smile to let her know that I’m joking.
“Sorry. I’m only telling you all of this because I don’t want to see you put into a position where you might get hurt. Or worse,” she says. “And I also don’t want you letting yourself fall hard for this guy only to find out he’s not who he says he is. Or who he lets you think he is. I think I owe it to you to give you the full picture.”
My smile grows wan. Like I said, Ruby is always going to give it to me straight and totally unvarnished. She doesn’t beat around the bush.
“I appreciate that, Rube. Honestly, it’s one drink. If I get a hinky vibe from him, I’ll take off.”
“Promise?”
“Swear it.”
She holds her hand up, extending her pinky to me like we used to do when we were younger. I laugh and hook my pinky through hers, gripping it tightly. It was always our way of making a solemn pact with each other that couldn’t be broken. It’s maybe a little childish and probably looks foolish to those around us, but I don’t particularly care right now. Being with Ruby and enjoying a day out together feels really nice.
For the first time sin
ce I arrived, I feel like I’m home.
Chapter Ten
Spyder
I get off my bike and look around the yard. The guys are clustered together in small groups, all of them looking tense and tight. I’m not sure what’s up, but I can tell that something is, and whatever it is, it’s not good. I see Milo off to the side of the garage by himself working on his bike. I wander over and squat down next to him.
“What’s going on? Somebody die?” I ask, trying to sound lighter than I feel at that particular moment.
“Pretty fuckin’ close to it,” he replies without any sense of levity.
It feels like a twenty-pound stone has dropped into my gut. Milo’s face is as serious as his tone, reinforcing the flutter of nerves inside of me, as well as the certainty that something bad is going down.
“What happened?” I ask.
“Don’t know the details. All I know is a couple of the guys were on a run and got shot up,” Milo replies, never looking up at me as he works on his bike.
“Zavala?”
He shrugs. “Probably. Not sure.”
“You’re not curious?”
“I figure they’ll tell me when there’s something I need to know.”
I chuckle wryly. His casual attitude to what’s going on suddenly makes me feel like the town gossip. But if what’s happening is cartel-related and it impacts all of us then we should know.
“They said nobody in or out right now,” Milo says, as if reading my mind.
“I’m a persuasive man,” I reply, flashing him a grin.
He chuckles as I get to my feet and stalk off, heading for the clubhouse. As I hit the steps that lead up to the porch, Domino is just stepping out, wiping his hands on a rag, a grim look on his face.
“Is that blood?” I ask, pointing to the rag.
He nods. “Yup.”
“Whose blood?”
