Dementor (Rolling Thunder MC Birmingham Book 1)

by Candace Blevins

  His heavy boots sounded on the hardwood floor as he walked to the door. My breath was suddenly ragged and loud. I sat back on my butt and went to brush the rice off my knees, and quickly understood what he’d meant. Dozens and dozens of rice pieces were embedded in my knees. I was going to have to pick them out of my skin, piece by piece. I managed to get two of them to fall to the floor, and I gasped in shocked pain. The nerve endings were on fire, and any movement or irritation set them off all over again.

  Dementor’s motorcycle roared to life and my tears intensified. The pain of removing the individual rice pieces from my knees was made worse with the knowledge he was upset with me.

  I’d arrived home at four-thirty, and it was nearly six when I was certain I had all the rice up. I was pretty sure I’d started kneeling maybe ten minutes after five. I put the end table back, donned one of his t-shirts and a pair of fuzzy socks, and went back to bed. My hand went to my clit, I remembered I couldn’t get myself off, and I rolled over and punched the pillow in frustration. Still, I fell asleep quickly and slept until morning.

  Dementor

  I worked until two in the morning and left early. I needed to check on her. I’d wanted to pull her into my arms and take care of her, but I needed this to be a negative experience. She needed to understand how upset I was. If I couldn’t trust her, we didn’t have anything, and that broke my heart.

  Also, there’d be no aftercare until her consequences were over, and I wasn’t sure the rice had been enough to show her just how upset I was. I needed her to let me know if I interfered in her day-to-day life. This wouldn’t work if she hid shit from me.

  But I still second-guessed myself. Walking out on her while she was crying had torn my heart out, but it was the way it had to be.

  My heart slowed when I saw her sleeping peacefully. She was fine. I breathed in and tasted the scents in the air. A little sexual frustration, but everything else was positive. Good. I returned to the living room without bothering her.

  I didn’t see any loose grains of rice on the floor, so I set the alarm on my phone for seven-thirty, stretched out on my sofa, and slept.

  When my alarm went off, I started the coffee, went into the bedroom, and turned the light on. “Wake up, naughty girl. Do whatever it is that you do to your hair so it doesn’t get wet. You’re getting a shower first thing.”

  She sat up and fiddled with her hair so it was all in a little ball on top of her head. I tossed her a towel, and she stood beside the bed, leaned over, and secured it.

  And then I walked her to the shower, turned the cold water on, and stuck her into it. She screamed bloody murder, but I held her there. I got just as wet, but I was prepared for it, so I could grit my teeth and deal with it. I soaped her up and then used the handheld showerhead to make sure she was rinsed. Everywhere. When I finally let her out, I pointed her towards the kitchen. “My turn for a shower. Coffee should be ready by now. You know where the milk and cream are. Put a robe on if you’re cold. No clothes.”

  This would be the first time she’d poured her own coffee in my apartment. I always prepared it for her.

  When I came out from my shower she was sitting in her robe at the kitchen table, her coffee in front of her, and she looked like she was close to tears.

  “I’m sorry. I promise to let you know from now on. How do we fix this?”

  “Did you masturbate after I left?” I was pretty sure she hadn’t orgasmed, but the lingering scent of frustration made me wonder if she’d edged herself.

  “I touched myself for maybe four or five seconds before I remembered I couldn’t get myself off. I was so damned horny. Not because of the rice or the position, but just because you’d punished me, I think. The idea of you being able to take that kind of control over me.”

  “In the future, if we can get past this, you don’t masturbate or orgasm after punishment. Ever. Doesn’t matter if you’re on orgasm restriction or not.”

  “Yes, Sir. I’m sorry.”

  I poured my own coffee and sat across the table from her. “I need to be able to trust you. I need to know my actions aren’t spilling into your school or work or any other aspect of your everyday life.”

  “How do I make this right?”

  “You can’t. It’s done, and there was nothing right about it. The question is how you convince me you’ll be honest and forthcoming about your needs in the future.”

  Her teary-eyed gaze met mine, but I couldn’t let my heart soften just yet.

  “I can promise you I’ll do my best.” Her watery gaze met mine and I could tell she was fighting hard not to break out into tears again. “I don’t think I can promise to always get it right.”

  “If you stay next week, you’ll text me when you go to bed. Every night. I’m going to know exactly how much damned sleep you’re getting before I wake you up for sex.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  I looked at the clock and back to her. “You leave in an hour and a half. Do you need to change before school?”

  She shook her head. “My knees are a little tender, but just the skin, not the joints.”

  “Okay then. Tell me what you want to happen before we start cooking breakfast in forty minutes.”

  “Whatever pleases you, Sir.”

  “What would please me would be for you to tell me what you fucking want.”

  Yes, I understood why she didn’t want to tell me, but I was making a point. She had to learn speak up for her own damned needs.

  She burst into tears. “I just want you to hold me and love me and not be mad at me!”

  I pushed my chair back from the table. “Come here.”

  She was in my lap in a second, and I held her to me and kissed the top of her head. She’d told me what she needed, and I was giving it to her. The tears came in great, gasping sobs. I’d expected as much, and I held her and rubbed her and kissed her head every few minutes without comment.

  Ember

  Something shifted while I cried in his lap. He was holding me because I told him to, but it didn’t matter. He’d ordered me to tell him what I needed.

  This was all about me wanting to service his needs, and he’d needed me to tell him what I needed in that moment. Crap, it made sense when I thought it, but there was no way to say it out loud and make sense.

  When I could finally speak, I told him. “I get it now, I think. I won’t apologize again because I already have, and I won’t promise to not fuck up again because I’m sure I will, but I promise I’ll try harder.” It came out between my sobs. He pulled my head to his chest and rubbed my shoulder and arm.

  “I’m going to follow up more. I’m going to make sure you’re doing okay. I’m going to invade the fuck out of your privacy so I can be certain you aren’t letting me screw with your classes or derby career.”

  “Roller Derby isn’t a career. I’ll finish out this year’s season and then....” and then I’ll be a dragon, but I didn’t tell him that. I wasn’t sure if Aaron wanted me to talk about it. No, that was a copout. I wasn’t ready to talk to him about it. I finished with, “Once I’m working for Aaron, I’ll need to be available for clients at the drop of a hat, if necessary. I can’t risk being needed when we have a big match or tournament.”

  “The sentiment is the same. If you’ve cut back on skating time because of me, you need to add it back in.”

  “I did homework one day this week instead of going to the park and skating between classes, but it’s fine. I still skated three days this week, counting our regular practice.”

  “You did homework instead of skating so you’d have time to spend with me?”

  “Just Monday, because we had plans and I wanted to spend as much of the evening as possible with you.”

  “Okay. Every once in a while is fine, but don’t do it every week.”

  “We didn’t have sex this morning. You never came to bed.”

  “I slept on the sofa. You needed your sleep and I didn’t want to disturb you.”

  “Fuck.�
�� I didn’t tell him I was sorry again. “Thank you for watching out for me when I wasn’t watching out for myself. I feel terrible to have put you out of your bed. I’d like to do something to make it up to you. Will you let me rub your shoulders?”

  “I’m not a pansy-ass. I can sleep on the sofa without needing a damned massage. You have to dress up a little more today, right? The capstone/intern thing?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Get moving. I’ll fix breakfast.”

  “Can I give you a blow job?”

  “No sex this morning. No edging. Go get ready.”

  I went, but I worried he’d have sex with one of the sweetbutts. He was used to a lot of sex, and I loved giving it to him, but what would happen if I couldn’t?

  He came to the bathroom door, leaned against the jamb, and crossed his arms. “Something else you need to tell me?”

  Shit, I hadn’t even thought about what he’d scent. There was no way around it but to tell him what was bothering me.

  “I want you to use me instead of the sweetbutts.”

  He stared at me without responding. I didn’t know what to do, so I faced the mirror and brushed my hair.

  “Looks like we need to work on trust in both directions. I told you I wouldn’t fuck a sweetbutt until at least Sunday, and that we could figure things out from there if you decide you still need other men to Top you.”

  “I don’t want or need other men.”

  “Then I’ll stay off the sweetbutts. Doesn’t matter if you have time for me every day or not. If at some point that no longer works for me, we’ll sit down and talk about it. I don’t cheat.”

  “Okay.”

  He nodded. “Okay.”

  And he was gone. Fifteen seconds later, I heard him working on breakfast again.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Ember

  After derby practice, a few of my teammates decided to go to the local roller skating rink to get some more skating in. I texted Dementor to let him know where I’d be, not because he’d told me to, but because I figured he’d worry about me if I didn’t come home when he expected me to. The rink closed at midnight, and then a couple of us went to Steak and Shake.

  He texted me at twelve forty-five to see if I was okay, and I realized the control room had probably told him I wasn’t back at his apartment yet. Sorry I worried you. We were hungry so some of us went out to eat.

  Glad you’re safe. Have fun.

  When I finally got home around one thirty, someone knocked on my door about ten minutes later. I looked out the peephole to see Velvet.

  “Hey,” she said when I opened the door, “do you have some time to talk?”

  I motioned her in. “Sure. What’s up?”

  She took a seat on the sofa and smiled up at me. “I just wanted to check in with you. Dementor’s important to us, and you’re important to him. We’re all glad you’re here, but we’ve left ya’ll alone so you can have time together. I wanted to make sure you understood why we haven’t been all up in your business. We aren’t snubbing you.”

  I sat in a chair across from her. “It never occurred to me ya’ll were snubbing me. I wasn’t paranoid, but maybe I am a little now.”

  She laughed. “We’re a family. We’re smaller than we’re used to being, and that’s creating some challenges. It means we’re all carrying a heavy load and can’t spend as much time together just hanging out. I miss that, but it can’t be helped. We have it better than most of the rest of Birmingham.”

  I nodded. “A safe place to live and enough money to survive is a luxury, right now. Evil was winning. I thought we’d lost. I’m almost certain we had, and then everything changed.”

  “Yes, the forces for good in Birmingham got our asses kicked, but fortunately we were just one battle of many, and other people won the war for us. Still, it’s making it harder for our city to bounce back, I think.”

  “Can I get you something to drink?” I asked her.

  “No, I’m good. I sense your thirst. Get something for yourself.”

  “I’m going to make some chocolate milk. You sure you don’t want some?”

  “I can’t remember the last time I had chocolate milk.”

  “I make it with real milk and real chocolate.”

  “Sure, I’ll have some.”

  She watched me incorporating the cocoa powder and sugar in, and the finally the vanilla towards the very end. I poured it into mugs and grated a piece of a chocolate bar over each mug as an extra garnish.

  She took her first sip and groaned. I love hearing people enjoy things I’ve prepared.

  “I’m glad you like it.”

  “So simple, and it brings back memories of happy times. I’m so glad you’re here. It’s good to see The D happy.”

  “It was just a trial week. We have to sit down Sunday and see if we want to continue.”

  “Do you?”

  I shrugged. “I like my house, but I admit it’s easier to be close to everything. This is the only way for me to see much of Dementor, so yeah, I hope he wants me to stay, but I also hope we can spend a few days a week at my place.”

  She tilted her head a little. She wasn’t entirely pleased with my answer, but I didn’t understand why until she spoke. “You still want your fallback position, and I get it because ya’ll are new, but you won’t fully fit in here until you’re here.”

  I looked around. “There isn’t enough room for me to fully move in. My closet is the size of his kitchen and living room put together.” Fuck, I sounded like a snob. “My derby equipment takes up a lot of room. I have several pairs of skates and more wheel sets than I’m willing to admit to. All my protective gear, and then the clothes I wear when we practice or when I just go for a skate. Then there are my everyday clothes, and...” I trailed off. She didn’t need to know I had clothes for clubbing, and also clothes for the kinky parts of my life.

  She laughed. “I don’t think I’ve seen you in the same shoes twice, so I kind of already knew you’d have lots of things, and that’s fine. The D has a one-bedroom apartment because that’s all he needed. We can move ya’ll into a two bedroom when one opens up, and you can use the second bedroom as your closet.”

  What did it mean that I hadn’t even considered moving in with him permanently?

  “It’s good to know that’s a possibility.”

  “Oh. Wow. I struck a nerve, and I’m sorry about that. Look, consider me the bitchy big sister, okay? Ya’ll will figure it out — I’m just glad you’re here, even if you see it as temporary and you want to hold onto your own place a while longer. It’s a start.”

  I tried to suppress a yawn, and she stood. “You’re tired. You had to wake up early for classes. I’ll go so you can sleep. Thanks so much for the chocolate milk.” She hugged me before she left.

  While I washed the saucepan, I tried to figure out why she’d come. D had told me she was kind of like their queen bee, so having her make sure I knew the club was happy that I appeared to be moving in was probably a good thing.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Dementor

  I awoke in time for church Sunday at eleven. Ember was sitting at the kitchen table doing homework when my alarm went off. The bear hadn’t wakened when she got up. Interesting.

  Church these days felt like more of a corporate board meeting than a biker meeting. I mean, the first business was voting two new hang-arounds into prospects, and giving one already-prospect a few more responsibilities, but then we had to vote on buying some parcels of land near Blaze in the hopes we could negotiate to buy a nearby building as well. If we could buy the whole thing, it’d be the location for our new clubhouse. Also, we voted to buy a new sign for Blaze, taller and brighter, and it would say Rolling Thunder Presents above the word Blaze. Bobcat said the Chattanooga chapter has a graphics guy who’s a friend of the club, and we voted to let him give us some design possibilities to vote on.

  Frost brought up several decisions he wanted input on from the club as a whole, and w
e conversated about them. Some, we clearly agreed on how to handle, but Mad Dog put a few items to a vote. We trust each manager to make decisions about the business he runs, but we also trust the managers to know what they need to bring to the club for a vote. In these cases, either our reputation was on the line, or a whole lot of money, so Frost had made the right call in asking for input from his brothers.

  Sometimes we’re in and out of church in thirty minutes. This Sunday was closer to three hours. I texted Ember when I retrieved my phone afterwards, asking her if she wanted to come to the clubhouse to hang out for a while. She didn’t respond after about five minutes, so I called her, but she didn’t answer. I went to my apartment and she wasn’t there. She hadn’t left a note, either.

  Later, I’d find out she went to the park to skate with some of her teammates. Her phone was in her backpack and she didn’t hear it. The nearby soccer fields had games in progress, with people screaming and cheering. She said a bunch of college guys were playing touch football inside the loop the women skated, and another group had music blasting while they seemed to be having a dance-off. I believed her, but I was beside myself with worry for nearly an hour.

  She was home by three. It wasn’t like she stayed out all day. She spent a few hours with her friends, and she texted me when she finally saw that I’d been trying to contact her.

  However, I’d been worried, and I blew up at her when she finally arrived home. She texted to let me know where she was and that she was on her way home, so I was standing in front of her parking spot when she pulled in.

  “I was worried.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know how long you’d be, and I didn’t figure we’d be gone long. A few hours.”

  She walked past me, into the apartment, through it, and into the bedroom. I followed and watched her settle her skates in the corner of my room with her suitcase and duffel and shoes. I’d cleared a few drawers out for her and made some room for her to hang things in my closet, but if she was going to stay, she needed more storage space.