My tattooist is a fucking genius, except for the one tattoo he did when I was again, drunk out of mind. Braydon paid him with a shit ton of cash to do it and the bastard took it. Both of those fuckers were lucky I didn’t own a gun. If I had I would’ve shot the motherfuckers dead on the spot. Just above my groin, arched the way Ronnie’s name is, in the same Old English script are the words, ‘Slide down and Ride.’ Yeah, laugh it up. In hindsight it is pretty fucking funny, at the time, not so much.
Jesus fucking Christ. When I woke up the next morning with the mother of all hangovers and a lower abdomen that felt like it had been rubbed raw by fucking gravel and sandpaper, I promptly lost my ever-loving-mind when I saw the efforts of my previous night out. Walking out into the living room of the apartment I now shared with Braydon, I punched him square in the jaw and made my way over to Jed’s, my tattooists, shop and dealt him the same punishment. Both the fuckers laughed it off, knowing there’s not a goddamned thing I could do about it now. That was nearly a year ago and I still haven’t lived it down.
Crawling back over Ronnie who’s now only clothed by that scrap of fabric moonlighting as a thong I reply, “What in particular are you talking about, Baby? The piercing in my cock that’s going to make you feel so good you’ll think you’ve gone to heaven, or the tats, Babe?”
I watch as she rhythmically swallows, the motion draws my eyes to her throat and I start to lick and nibble as I wait for her answer, “Um, well, I mean, ah. Mmmmm.”
I’m glad I get to her. Glad she’s having trouble speaking. It only proves I have just as much effect on her as she does me. That she wants this. With ME.
“Um what, Baby?” This is sweet torture, for both of us. Shifting her legs back and forth beneath me, all restless and needy, makes me swell with pride. I’m the one that gets to do this to her, the only one. If that doesn’t make me want to beat my chest like a Neanderthal then nothing will.
“Um, the piercing I kind of get. I hear it makes it more sensitive for you, and it’s good for the woman, too. I mean my name, Nate. When did you get that? Why did you get that?”
She’s looks at me with unshed tears in her stunning eyes, and so much love that it fractures my heart wide open, letting everything I feel for her come rushing in. “I got it as soon as I moved, Sunshine. I missed you like crazy. I wanted a piece of you with me. It was the first one I got, the most important one I’ve got, too.” I suck in a deep breath. It’s time I tell her how I feel about her. I need to, and she deserves to hear it. “I love you, Ronnie. I might have loved you a different way back then, but I still loved you with every piece of me. This love is different though. This isn’t about a kid needing a friend, or a girl being beautiful enough to give him that. This is about you owning me, Baby. Because you do. You own every single bit of me.”
Ronnie’s tears finally break free and make wet tracks down her face. For a second I’m absolutely terrified that she’s going to tell me she doesn’t feel the same way.
“I… I… I love you too, Nate. I’ve loved you for what feels like forever.” That’s all I need to hear; that she loves me back, and she does it in a way that I’ll never recover from.
Stripping her saturated thong down her legs, I come back up and bury my face in between her sweet thighs, getting my first look at her gorgeously bare pussy, wet, and glistening with her desire for me. Licking up the inside of her thighs, I run my nose up the crease between her thigh and the lips of her pussy, inhaling her uniquely sweet scent. Ronnie smells like cocoa butter, the lotion she uses daily, and a hint of lavender. It’s always been a smell that’s triggered thoughts of her, thoughts of home, never this intimately before, but nevertheless it’s always been a good memory.
The first swipe of my tongue up her slit has her back arching off the bed. Tasting her, sucking on her clit has me throbbing, my cock jerking against her mattress, desperate for release. My woman tastes exactly like I expected, of sunshine and sugar. Sweet and creamy on my tongue I can’t help thrusting my tongue further into her hole to gather more of her wetness. I want to savour her. I want to devour her.
Gripping my hair with both of her fists I hear, “Oh God, Nate. Don’t, don’t stop. Please don’t stop.” The girl is crazy if she thinks I’m going to stop, but the first time she comes it’s going to be with me inside her.
“You like that, Baby?” I know she does, so I don’t wait for her to answer. “I’m going to make it so good for you, Sunshine, I promise. I want you to come on my cock though. You can come all over my face later, yeah?”
I look up to see her blushing beet red. It’s good to know for sure that my woman blushes from the tips of her pretty nipples to the tops of her ears. “Are you going to let me make you feel good, Ronnie? Are you going to trust I can make this good for you?”
Without hesitation she says, “I trust you, Nate. I know it will hurt for a minute but, I’m ready.” What I feel in this moment is nothing short of elation. My Ronnie trusts me. More than that, she trusts me with something so precious that I’ll never be able to express how monumental her trust in me means.
Moving back up her body, trailing wet open mouth kisses over her skin, and teasing nips along the length of her flat stomach, I skim over her gorgeous round, heavy tits; finally settling my cock at her entrance, where I can feel her cream coating me, practically dripping down her thighs.
We had a conversation during one of our hot make out sessions, a few days ago, about birth control. Ronnie has been on the pill since she was fifteen to regulate her cycle, and I’ve never fucked a woman bare. That was probably one of the most embarrassing conversations for Ronnie, and awkward for me, that we’ve ever had. Even when I told Ronnie about the first girl I fucked, this was years ago now, obviously, it was less fucking uncomfortable than that discussion.
Telling the girl you love, even if she doesn’t know it yet, that essentially you were a fucking manwhore up until a couple of months ago, does not usually bode well for a guy. Ronnie just shrugged it off, shocking me with her blasé attitude, saying that everything before her doesn’t matter. As long as I’m clean, she wants to be with me, only me, no rubber interruption, and nothing between us. I couldn’t have been fucking happier.
Holding the base of my cock in my hand I stroke it up and down her slit, using her juices to lubricate me, making easier, I hope, for me to slide inside her tight little body. I really am a selfish fucker. I can’t even bring myself to finger her, to stretch her a little to accommodate my size before making love to her. I don’t want anything but my cock to have the privilege of being the first thing inside her.
Capturing her mouth again, and thrusting forward gently, I manage to work just the head of my cock into her when I throw my head back and groan at the sensation. Ronnie feels like a satin fist; wet, swollen and dripping around my cock. I’ve never felt anything as good as it feels to be inside her like this. At this point I really fucking hope I can hold off coming until I’m at least fully seated inside her perfect pussy. “Jesus fuck, Sunshine. You’re so fucking tight. I’m going to go gentle, Baby, I’ll try not to hurt you, yeah?” Panting while she looks up at me, Ronnie wraps her legs around my hips. I slide in a couple of inches further, as she clenches her inner muscles around me, causing me to grit my teeth against the torture of it. “You do that Ronnie and I’m not going to be able to hold back much longer. You’ve got to let me take this slow, Babe.”
Shaking her head rapidly against the pillow, she makes her demands, “I want to feel you, Nate. Please, I need you inside me. All the way in.” Goddamnit, so much for taking it slow. Hearing her beg me to push all the way in makes something snap. I have to get in there, now. Taking slow, easy strokes, I edge my way deeper, finally coming into contact with the barrier that separates me from making her truly mine. I know she can feel me right there; feel the tip of my cock bumping at her innocence.
Cupping my face she looks into my eyes and nods her head slightly. Silently giving me her permission to go ahead and take her. I
pull my hips back and thrust in the whole way until our pelvises are touching, my balls slapping her ass. Her cry of pain and the tightness around her eyes makes me freeze. I stop, waiting for her to accommodate me, waiting for her tight pussy to relax, so that I can finally go about making her feel good and erase the pain.
Placing light kisses all over her cheeks, eyelids, and mouth I ask, “You okay, Baby? I’m so fucking sorry I hurt you.”
Rotating her hips a little and tipping them up toward to mine she answers with, “Mmhmm, you feel so good, Nate. So big, so thick. I want you to move, Nate. I’m okay now, promise.” Glancing over her face, to reassure me that the pain has subsided and she is ready for more, I experiment by swivelling my hips in small tight circles. When that earns me a moan, I continue.
Thrusting in an out of Ronnie’s tight, wet pussy is like nothing I’ve ever felt before. Not just because I’m bare for the first time, but because she’s the first woman I’ve had sex with that I love. Scratch that, she’s the first woman I’ve ever made love to that I am in love with.
It doesn’t take long before I can feel her pussy tightening, waves rippling along her inner walls. My hand makes its way down her body, my thumb finding her clit as I rub in circles, adding extra pressure each go around. Just when I don’t think I can hold off coming before she does a second longer, Ronnie screams my name and clamps down hard around my cock. That immediately triggers my own release as her pussy milks my cock dry. I throw my head back and roar my release along with her name and a whole heap of other incoherent, filthy shit that comes to mind.
I’ve never I come so hard in my life. I swear I think I see stars and shit. I can only imagine what sex with this amazing woman will be like after we get some practice in, not that she needs any, she nearly fucking killed me this time. I can’t see myself wanting to be anywhere but, buried inside her, day in, day out. And I will be, as often as humanly possible.
After getting a warm, wet washer from the bathroom and cleaning my sexy, sleepy woman up, I pull her into my arms and nuzzle her hair. With her head resting on my chest, this is the first time I’ve felt truly content. It’s a heady feeling, one I wouldn’t mind having for the rest of my life. Where that might scare some twenty-two-year-olds, it’s calming, a balm to my soul almost, for me. I’ll happily make this woman my wife, the mother of my children, have her in my bed forever. Actually, right now, there’s nothing I’d like more. Sighing, Ronnie buries her head further into my chest and whispers, “I love you, Nathaniel. Thank you for making that beautiful for me.”
What she doesn’t realise is that it’s her beauty that did all that. Her beauty inside and out made our love making something I’ll never forget. “I love you more, Veronica May. You’re fucking perfect.” With that, we drift off to sleep, not knowing that in four short weeks this will HAVE to be a memory we cherish forever. It will be one of many, but it will end up being the one I hold onto in my darkest times the most. The one I remember every detail of in the years that follow.
If I’d known my relationship with Ronnie would be torn apart in so little time, I would have done things differently. Fuck. I would have done everything differently. I would have watched her a little longer when she slept. I would have kissed her more often. I would have made better choices period. I never would have drunk half a bottle of vodka and smoked two joints, leaving me open and vulnerable for Verity to pounce. I would never have given up searching for Ronnie after eighteen months, and I would never, never have been so close to giving up, that I considered taking my own life, more than once, because I couldn’t handle the pain of being without her.
When I’m alone, in the dark, and melancholy as fuck, I occasionally wish I’d never gone back to Patterson that summer. I should have left her alone so she wouldn’t have to suffer for my mistakes. Then I remember the good times, the fucking perfection of just being in her presence, the peaceful bliss I’d never felt before. Watching her smile and laugh, being able to hold her in my arms while she slept, the feel of her hair tickling my chest when I woke in the mornings.
I remember every-fucking-thing about that summer and as much as I regret how it ended, I can’t bring myself to regret anything else. No matter what, loving Ronnie that summer, and ever since, is the best thing I have EVER fucking done.
CHAPTER FIVE
Nate
Since that afternoon the week before, when Ronnie fell asleep on my lap after telling me her plans to get a tattoo to cover her scar, something has changed between us. She isn’t quite as closed off, and I couldn’t be happier that it looks like I’m making progress. She stays in the same room as me for longer making idle conversation. She spends more time in the living room reading while I watch a game on TV, instead of holing up in the bedroom where she undoubtedly was making plans to kill me in my sleep. It’s as if she’s now actively seeking me out, trying to spend time with me, and I fucking love it.
I know its early days in my mission to win her back, but fuck, I’m just glad Ronnie isn’t being ice cold towards me anymore. Her thawing out, cultivated more hope than I’ve had in weeks that maybe we can get past this, putting it behind us and moving on.
Ronnie’s due to start back at Skin Fusion, in a few days, and about an hour ago, Kendall picked up Ronnie to take her in for the tattoo that will cover up her scar. That should take most of the day and it will be Ronnie’s first day back at the shop since Kendall and Cage’s wedding.
I still don’t know how I feel about her getting this tattoo. I understand it’s her body and her choice what she does with it. Still, in some sick, twisted way, I like seeing that scar marring her perfect skin. It reminds me how strong she is. That Ronnie survived something most wouldn’t. That she’s is alive. In the end, it isn’t my choice though; it’s hers. Thankfully, Tank will be here soon to hopefully distract me enough that I won’t go barging into Skin Fusion to watch over her while Kendall works her magic.
I was forbidden to go with them. Who forbids a biker from doing shit? Lou, that’s who. Fuck. The women wouldn’t even let me drive her there. When I asked Ronnie if I could take her, she just gave me a cute, quirky smile and shook her head. Damn infuriating woman. Turning my head to the sound of the front door opening, I look over my shoulder from my recliner. I see a pissed as hell, six foot seven, 280 pound, ex-Navy Seal, MC Enforcer prowling into my living room, his face set in a mask of fury. Chucking at the look on his face I ask,
“What’s your fucking damage, Brother? You look like you’re about to shit bricks.”
Throwing himself length ways on to my poor groaning couch, it protests his significant bulk, Tank scowls at me. “Fuck you.” I laugh outwardly at his gruff tone and Tank continues to glare daggers at me. “She’s gone and done it now. I swear to fuck, I’m not speaking to her for a fucking year, at least, after this.” I know exactly who he’s talking about. Priss. There isn’t another person on the planet that can make the man as furious as he looks right now. The woman has a fucking gift!
I’m not sure how it all started other than to say; when Priss and Tilly’s parents died, a little over four years ago, Tank was put in charge of rounding up prospects to help do menial work around their house. Things like small repairs, mowing lawns, repainting the house, staining the deck, shit like that.
During those first months, Tank formed some kind of bond with Tilly that’s only grown with time. It’s now so strong, that Tank watches over her like she’s his own. Whether it was because she had just lost her father, and needed a male role model, or she just needed a friend and Tank was always around, I don’t know. Nevertheless, Tilly took an immediate liking to him, as he did to her. Since then, Tank became a significant fixture in Tilly’s life. In turn, that meant he became one in Priscilla’s, as well. It helped Priss out to have another adult on hand to assist in daily shit like, picking Tilly up from school if Priss was working, dropping her at her art classes in the next county, and feeding her if Priss got home late.
There have been rumours going aroun
d the clubhouse for years that Tank and Priss are secretly an item. Some of the brothers are sometimes worse than their ol’ ladies, with their gossiping and shit, they can’t help themselves. Tank denies it each and every time, but it doesn’t help matters when he isn’t seen fucking any of the club whores; doesn’t meet random bitches at Rough Shod and has never had a girlfriend.
One night at Rough Shod, when we were both fucked up on whisky and beer after drinking for about five straight hours, I asked him straight up what their deal was.
“Tank, Brother. You got something going on with Priss on the quiet? You know you can tell me that shit, I won’t say a fucking word.” I was slurring and shit, but I knew he heard and understood me. Don’t know how, I barely could understand me, I was that fucked up.
The flash of emotion that crossed his face was one of pain and longing. It was a look I knew well. It was a look I’m sure I had every time someone mentioned Ronnie since I’d learned she was living here in Blackwater, now. Quickly masking his face to that perfectly blank look he’d perfected, Tank replied, “Nothing happening there brother. I wouldn’t fucking touch her if I was paid to.” Tank didn’t see her until it was too late, but Priss was standing right behind him as he spoke. The look on her face was even worse than the look that had crossed his, not moments before. Priss was not only horrified at his comment, she looked heartbroken too.
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