Game Changer (Hell's Saints Motorcycle Club)

by Marinaro, Paula

  Oh Boy.

  “He didn’t almost beat you to it, Diego.” I whispered. Because I had absolutely no pride where this man was concerned I laid it out there.

  “No?” he was moving his mouth along my jaw line.

  “No.” I was breathing heavy now and to tell the gods honest truth my panties were absolutely positively so wet, I was afraid they were leaving a stain on my jeans.

  “Diego?” I loved the feel of his name on my tongue. I felt my nipples get even harder.

  “Yeah, baby?” His mouth moving to the corner of mine.

  “I’m still not sure this is such a ……..” I gasped. Diego had slipped his hand down the front of my pants and was moving his fingers up and down the outside of my panties.

  “Yeah, that’s my girl.” He said against my mouth. “That’s my good little baby girl.”

  And as he thrust his tongue gently into my mouth, he put a finger in my honey pot, then two, then three. And he moved those fingers in me slowly. In and out, in and out. Slipping and gliding and tugging against my wetness until I started to spasm. And as his fingers fucked me, his tongue swirled, plundered and danced in my mouth.

  *****

  And he was in.

  Thank god she had opened to him because in about five more seconds it wouldn’t have mattered. He had never forced a woman but he had never ever wanted a woman the way he wanted Raine. He was so rock hard for her he had cum backed up to his spine. Damn Fucking Damn. The minute he took her mouth, his hand was heading hell bent to her pussy. Slipped right in. Oh yes he fucking did. When he felt how wet her little silky panties were he almost shot his load in his pants. God, this woman turned him into a goddam horny teenager.

  And she was tight, and wet and willing. And she gave it up to him. Her tight little V grinding against his big rough hand. He slipped one, then two, then three fingers in her. Then he moved his thumb to her clit and she climbed up on him like she was a dying woman. She wrapped those long beautiful legs around him, her back against the door and she gave it to him. She pushed hard against that hand soaking him.

  She was ready. So fucking ready. She swung her head back then forward, beautiful big bouncing tit hanging out from the way her shirt had slipped off her shoulder and from his free hand working that magnificent half dollar sized nipple. All that long dark hair spilling free from that goddam braid she had coiled it up in. She met his eyes and held them. He worked her, sliding his fingers in and out, in and out. She fucked his hand hard. Like he liked it. She was being a good girl. His good girl. His fucking incredible very good girl.

  *****

  I came hard against Diego’s hand.

  And I mean hard.

  And I wanted more.

  Every part of my body was on high alert. I came against his hand while he had me trapped against a door. I rode that hand like my life depended on it. Wanton and shameless and burning with a raw naked need.

  Chapter 30

  Oh. My. God

  It had been hours. Hours and hours and hours of incredible mind blowing sex. Mind blowing. Diego was tender and loving, then rough and forceful, then tender again. I couldn’t get enough of him and my body responded to him in kind. I was shy, then shameless, then hesitant again. He had me up against the wall, then on the floor, then on my back with my legs spread open hitched on his shoulders while his mouth laid claim to me. Mind blowing.

  Dolly had come knocking at the door.

  Then Reno had come knocking at the door.

  Diego had roared a giant “What the Fuck?”

  And Reno had yelled just as loud “What the Fuck?” back.

  Then Diego had opened the door and throwing him the keys to the Escalade told him to tell Prosper that we would be there soon. Then he slammed the door in his brother’s face and came back to me and showed me some more good time.

  By the time I got to the shower my girlie parts were sore in a very good way. My mouth was swollen and I had a pink burn on my face and various other parts of my body where Diego had rubbed his three day old five o’clock shadow against me.

  Sweet Jesus. I looked exactly like a walking ad for hours of very thorough, very mind blowing sex. My face was in the final stages of healing and most of the color had muted to quiet yellows, blues and soft blacks. Now I was adding a deep pink to the mix, honestly I looked ridiculous. I looked like I had just gone seven rounds. And I guess, in a way, I had.

  I’ll not even get started on the rats’ nest that was my hair. The crown braid that I had been so proud of, had been torn from the pins early in the game. What was left was a screaming mass of tangles from where Diego had pulled and buried and twisted my hair in his big beautiful hands.

  The hot spray of the shower was steaming up the room and I lost sight of my reflection in the mirror. What I found in that steam were two big hands kneading my ass again and dragging me into the shower where my opponent held me against the ropes and proceeded to score a knockout in the final bout. I went down smiling.

  Chapter 31

  While I was putting the final touches on my makeup, I heard Diego on the phone with Prosper making our delay all good. Prosper was sending a brother from the Nevada Chapter of the Saints for us and he should be there soon.

  I got busy straightening up the room partly because it needed it and mostly because after hours of hot sex with Diego, I was having trouble meeting his eyes. I snuck a peek at him from under my lashes. His hair was still damp from the shower, and he had shaved. He smelled of clean soap and warm sex. I turned pink from inside out remembering. I had to get a hold of myself.

  “Babe, if you’re going to turn yourself inside out every time you’re out of my bed that’s gonna give me all the more reason to keep you in it.”

  I looked up quickly at him and he was grinning. I threw the pillow I was making the bed up with. Then he started laughing. I had seen the many faces of the moods of Diego Montesalto but I had never seen him laugh. And it was a thing of beauty. The crinkles around the corner of his eyes stood out, and the dimple of the right side of his cheek deepened, his dark eyes glittered like diamonds and his beautiful mouth curved in a perfect u shape.

  Damn him.

  Then he reached for me and I ran from him. He caught me and held me close to him. He kissed me long and hard and I melted against him.

  “Hmmmmm.” He whispered against my ear. “My baby is ready again.”

  He wasn’t wrong.

  His cell rang and I was saved by the bell. Our ride was here. Diego rode in the front with the Sergeant At Arms from the Nevada Hell’s Saints Chapter. Apparently any one with the title Sergeant At Arms never did this “chauffeur shit” and Diego was really honored that Justice had made sure he was the one to bring us back to the house. They did the man hug thing and shared a flask of something and a pack of smokes on the way to the farm house. After a brief introduction I was all but forgotten in the back seat. That was fine by me. I had plenty to occupy my mind.

  At one point I tried to listen in on the conversation. It was a montage of curse words. Every other word was fucking, or pussy, or prick, and those were peppered with phrases like Goddamn straight and you fucking feeling me, or cocksucking asswipe can’t find his own dick with a navigation system. The rest of the words seemed to be spoken in some kind of profane code. The two of them together were pretty bad. I had grown up around that and my ears were still burning. I tuned them out and went to my happy place.

  Because my happy place involved recent memories of tongue and hands and deep hour long orgasmic pleasure, I heated up and turned that wonderful shade of pink all over again. My girlie parts started to tingle at the recall and I squirmed in my seat.

  Diego caught the movement in his visor mirror.

  “Babe.” He smiled at me. And then he winked.

  I scowled at him and looked out the window.

  He grinned at me and offered me a hit off the mystery flask which I gladly accepted.

  While I sputtered and coughed and wiped the tears from my ey
es as the horrible stuff hit my belly, the two hyenas in the front seat had a good time laughing at my expense. But when the coughing fit was over, Diego leaned into the back seat, pulled me close to him and touched his lips to my forehead.

  “My baby is a light weight.” He muttered against my hair.

  When he released me, I caught Justice’s eyes in the rearview appraising me.

  “So she’s yours D?” Justice had turned to him.

  I held my breath waiting for the answer. The last time Diego had been asked this I had screamed out a resounding “No!” This time I held my breath. Diego took a minute, maybe remembering that time too. Maybe he was giving me that out. I don’t know but it seemed like he took a while to answer. Justice took his eyes off the road and glanced at Diego.

  “Yours D? Cause if that sweet thing ain’t owned, I….” Justice began.

  “Don’t even fucking think about it brother. She’s mine. All mine. All the time.” Diego was looking at him.

  “You lucky sonofabitch.” Justice grinned and passed Diego the booze.

  “Got that right Brother.” Diego took a pull on the flask, found me in the visor mirror and his eyes went soft.

  I colored. Of course I did.

  He smiled a slow soft smile and held my eyes until I looked away.

  My toes were curling in my boots, and girlie parts on red alert.

  Oh Boy.

  Chapter 32

  We pulled up in front of a white, old plank board farm house. There were probably about a dozen Harleys parked outside. The house was big and could use a fresh coat of paint, but it had an honest to goodness perfect wrap around porch complete with two porch swings. There was pretty ginger bread lattice on the eves and the windows were large and clean. A brick pathway leading up to it was lined with blue stone and some pretty perennial plants that I didn’t know the names of. The house was at the end of a long dirt drive way and stood alone with plenty of space all around it.

  People were milling around the porch. By people, I mean big mean looking men with Hell’s Saints Nevada cuts on them. And their women. I would never get used to this and I still didn’t know why those cuts and those women made me so uneasy. I searched back in the corners of my mind to bring forth something bad that might have happened as a result of being with the “shadow people” of my childhood and honestly there wasn’t anything specific there. What there was an uneasiness that never quite would go away.

  Now here I was, once again heading towards the source of that unease. My seat planted in the thick of it. If the entrance into the club a few weeks ago hadn’t sealed it, then the last few hours with Diego probably had. If I wanted him that meant I had to deal with them. They were his family. His choice. If I stayed with him, with Prosper, with my job at Reds they would eventually become my family too. Maybe.

  We hit the front steps and there were chin nods at Diego and looks of curiosity at me. I kept my eyes on the prize of the screen door. Diego felt me tense beside him and wrapped his arms around my shoulders. I felt more curious stares and those mostly came from the women. I wondered briefly how many more “Ellies” there were in Diego’s recent and not so recent past. Conversation for another day. Maybe.

  The screen door opened to us and I found myself wrapped in Prosper’s big arms. I didn’t know if I was ever going to get used to the feeling of being swept back to becoming a little girl every time I heard Prosper’s voice or looked into his eyes, or found myself in his arms. Aside from Claire, Prosper was the only family I had left. And the difference between him and Claire was that Prosper had always taken care of me and I had always taken care of Claire. With Prosper, I had felt safe. That’s what the good daddies do.

  “Hey, little darlin’. Thanks for making the trip. A man needs his family around at a time like this. Gonna make all the difference in the world to Pinky you being here.” He kissed the top of my head.

  A man needs his family around at a time like this. And there it was. And my heart lifted a little and opened a little. This could be where I belonged. Maybe.

  I entered the house and saw a whole lot more people inside. Diego left me and moved to a small bunch of bikers in the corner of the room, more man hugs all around. Prosper was heading me towards the kitchen with his hand gently on the back of my neck. The kitchen was a large country one with a white porcelain double sink, a cracked and faded cheap linoleum floor and chintz curtains on the windows. A large rectangle butcher block table stood in the middle of the room with a half dozen mismatched chairs pushed in around it. Every counter top was filled with a covered dish.

  There were lots of blondes (and not one that was naturally born to it) in that kitchen. Every body type. Skinny, curvy, toned, and saggy. All sporting serious cleavage and tight bottoms. Whether those bottoms be skirts, jeans, or shorts they were all tight. The hair was big, the jewelry was fake, and the tats were real. Except for Dolly and three other red heads of various shades I had spied out of the corner of my eye on the way through, it was safe to say I was the only non-blonde in a crowd of at least twenty five women.

  She was standing with Dolly, her back towards me but I recognized Pinky nonetheless. Knowing what I now knew about the history between Prosper and my mom and Pinky I was suddenly very unsure that I should be here. I knew that she had wanted me to come, and had even requested my presence. But I wondered, in the seconds I had before she turned to me, if in her mind’s eye she was expecting the child I was and not realizing that who would stand before her was the woman I had become. The woman, who by all accounts, bore a striking resemblance to my mother. The dying woman who had owned Prosper’s heart.

  As a matter of fact, until that very moment I hadn’t realized that I was the same age my mother had been when we lost her. I stumbled back and fell against the hard wall of Prosper’s chest.

  He put both hands on my shoulders giving them a squeeze and called out, “Pinky, our baby girl is home!”

  Conversation halted and all eyes on me. Pinky turned from the sink wiping her hands on a dish cloth.

  Time had been good to her. The years had taken all the sharp parts of her body and rounded them into a beautiful hour glass figure. Her hair was still blonde (of course it was) and she wore it in an up-do with soft curls falling around her face. Her make-up was biker babe chic which meant heavier than the average woman but not over the top (which would have made it biker babe cheap). She had on a pair of light weight black pants and a white lace shirt that was sheer in the back. On her wrist were the gold bracelets with the little tiny bells that I remembered so well.

  Her eyes met mine and widened. She stood stock still and looked at me. From head to toe her eyes seemed to miss nothing. I held my breath and I felt Prosper do the same. Her eyes were suddenly bright and she turned to the counter giving us her back.

  Pinky had turned her back on me.

  I felt my heart stop and Prosper’s hands fall heavier on my shoulders. I felt him step in closer to me. That few seconds felt like hours. One more second and I knew that both my heart and Prosper’s would lay shattered on the floor. It had all come down to this moment.

  Then, she turned round to me again.

  She had given us her back just long enough to toss the dish towel on the counter. Pinky looked to Dolly and whispered, “My baby girl is home Dolly.” Dolly grabbed her hands and smiled into her eyes.

  Then Pinky put her arms out to me and spanned the distance between us in three steps. She grabbed hold of my arms and held me away from her.

  “You look just like your mamma did at your age, Sweet Pea. And from what I know of her, there weren’t a sweeter, more beautiful woman that ever walked this earth. Here you stand before me, looking just as pretty as a picture, and I just know you’re just as sweet as the baby girl Prosper and I looked after all those years ago. Now you gonna give your ole Pinky some sugar?”

  I fell into her arms. She smelled like lavender and tobacco just like I remembered. I held onto her tight determined not to be the first one to let go
.

  Then I whispered in her ear, “I tried Pinky. I really really tried”

  She hugged me tighter and whispered, “I know baby girl. And you did real good too.”

  Then she pulled away from me and said loud enough for the whole room to hear, “Welcome home my sweet baby girl!”

  Then Dolly called out, “Thank Sweet Jesus! That light bill was getting ridiculous.”

  The whole room erupted in laughter and even though I’m pretty sure no one but us got the inside joke, it served to break the tension. Prosper left me and wrapped his big arms around his woman. He hugged Pinky so tight he picked her clear off the floor. When he whispered into her ear she blushed and swatted at his tattooed arms laughing. Then he gave her a big soft kiss on the mouth. He put her down and held her close with one arm and pulled me closer to him with the other. The three of us were grinning like fools.

  The afternoon passed quickly and turned easily into night. Slowly the masses left. I had the opportunity to peek at the cuts of the many men that filled the house and they were from the various West coast chapters. Diego explained to me that like a family, they had come to show support. They did the same with any kind of crisis or big celebration. Like a family. I didn’t really know what that had meant as a kid, but I was getting a taste of it now and it didn’t seem so bad. Maybe.

  Mostly everyone had left, save a skeleton crew of clean up biker babes and their men. The blondes worked the kitchen and Dolly, Pinky and I were served a fresh pot of coffee in the front sitting room. Diego, Prosper, Reno and the men who belonged to the cleanup crew were out on the front porch smoking, drinking and congratulating themselves on being kings of the universe. Testosterone was seeping through the walls.