by Gemma Weir
“I know you do, it’s good hair.”
“It really is. Please don’t ever cut it.”
“I have to cut it, else it would just be one big split end.”
Park leans forward and kisses me, nipping my lip before his tongue pushes into my mouth. Slow and languid, his lips move, his tongue unhurriedly tangling with mine. Eventually, he pulls back, his eyes full of amusement and want. “We’re not going to pretend this didn’t happen, are we?”
“No, we’re not.”
“Good. Because we’re not just friends anymore. This is so much more than that. You’re mine, my Rosebud, and now I’ve had a taste, now my dick’s been inside you, I can’t pretend anymore.”
The overwhelming urge to giggle bubbles from me and I can’t help it as one escapes.
Park smiles, his grin indulgent. “You laughing at me, little one?”
“I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you,” I say giggling again.
“Sounds a lot like you’re laughing,” Park says, his hand sliding up my waist then tickling at my side.
I squeal, my giggle getting louder as I bat at his hand and try to squirm out of his way at the same time. “No,” I gasp, my voice lost between giggles and screeches as his other hand assaults my other side, tickling me until I’m shrieking and laughing all at the same time.
“Stop, stop,” I beg, and his evil fingers pause.
“Are you my girl, Rosebud?” Park asks, his one hand moving to cup my jaw, his voice still playful but full of sincerity.
My gaze locks with his and I nod. I want this, I want him. There’s no point pretending we can just be friends, and as much as I love Taylor, I can’t allow her issues to dictate my life. Park may be her brother, but he’s my everything and when it comes to him I’m prepared to be selfish.
“Thank fuck for that,” Park says on an exhale.
“I can’t believe you’re here.”
“I couldn’t stay away. I don’t want to stay away.”
Tipping up my chin, I place my lips against his, claiming a quick kiss. “Thank you for coming. I’m so glad you’re here. I’ve been miserable since you left.”
“It’s been less than forty-eight hours,” Park says mockingly.
“Loneliest hours of my life.”
He laughs, rolling onto his back and pulling me with him until I’m straddling him. “This is better.”
“Better than what?” I ask, fighting the urge to rub against his growing cock.
“Than pretending I didn’t want more from you,” Park says earnestly.
“You’re right, this is better,” I agree with a small smile.
Park’s eyebrow arches mischievously and his hands slide up my thighs and over my ribs. “I have an idea,” he says, pulling me down toward him.
“What’s that?”
“This,” he says, as his lips find mine.
His cock is hard against my thigh and I lift my butt, reaching between us to guide his hard cock to my entrance and sinking down onto it. We lose the rest of the morning laughing and fucking and ruining our friendship in the best possible way.
Several hours later, spent and starving, we emerge from my bedroom. My entire apartment smells like sex and I can’t keep the grin off my face as I pad to the kitchen wearing only Park’s t-shirt.
“We’re gonna need to rethink this you wearing my clothes thing,” Park says, coming up behind me and snaking his arms around my waist.
“Why?” I ask, twisting my face to the side to look at him.
“Because it’s huge on you. It covers all the good bits. It’s so long on you I don’t even get a glimpse of your ass and your pussy. We need to get you some smaller shirts.”
Laughing lightly, I spin around in his arms. “Or I could just wear my own clothes.”
“Hell no, sooner or later I’m gonna want to bend you over the counter and when I do, I want to just push up a t-shirt and be able to bury my face in your cunt.”
My cheeks heat. I can practically feel the blush blooming across my face.
“Are you embarrassed?” He asks, with an amused smile. “I’ve fucked you six ways from Sunday this morning; ten minutes ago you were riding my face. How the hell are you embarrassed?”
Shoving at his chest, I turn and start to fill the coffee pot, but his arms snake around me again and his soft lips touch my neck. “If my cock wasn’t wrung dry, I’d push you forward until your tits were touching the counter, then I’d lift up this shirt, spread your legs wide so I can see everything, and fuck you hard and deep until you scream.”
My eyes flutter closed and my poor, overused vagina pulses with arousal. A tiny moan escapes from my lips and Park chuckles. “Next time, baby,” he whispers.
I nod, then exhale a sigh of relief when he steps away from me. Busying myself with the coffee pot, I grab mugs then watch as the pot fills and a delicious aroma fills the air. “How long are you here for?”
Park looks up from his spot on my sofa and lowers his cell to his lap. “Just until tomorrow night. I managed to rearrange all of my appointments for today and tomorrow, but I have a memorial piece booked in for Thursday that I didn’t want to reschedule.”
I nod, excited that I have him for a couple of days, but sad that we’ll have to say goodbye again so soon. Filling the mugs, I add creamer and sugar to mine and leave his black just how he likes it. I make my way to the sofa, handing him the mug and sinking down next to him, curling my legs beneath me.
“Penny for them,” Park says, pulling me from my wayward thoughts.
Blinking slowly, I turn to look at him. “I don’t really know what I’m thinking.”
Park places his mug on my coffee table, then takes mine from my hand and places it next to his. “Come here, baby,” he says and lifts me into his lap, running his fingers up and down my spine. He swallows visibly, then lifts his eyes so they lock with mine. “Are you regretting this?”
“What? No!” I say quickly. “No, I don’t regret this at all. I mean we’ve ruined our friendship, but I wanted more, I wanted this just as much as you.”
“We haven’t ruined anything, Rosebud. We were always more.”
“I spoke to Taylor,” I blurt out, then duck my head.
“You did?”
“Yes, after you left on Sunday. I was sad and normally Taylor and I would always talk about men and dating. I was confused and I missed her, so I called her.” I say quickly, avoiding his eyes.
Strong fingers cup my chin, lifting my face. “Rosebud, I don’t care if you talk to Taylor. She’s your friend. The issues between me and her are just that, between me and her. They don’t have to affect you; they shouldn’t affect you. If you want to talk to your friend, then talk to her.”
“She’s not coming back.”
“What do you mean?”
“She’s in Aruba at some facility. She said she’s doing good, but the wedding is off and she’s not coming back. She said she wants a fresh start and that she can’t have that in LA, living her mom’s life.”
Park nods, his expression solemn.
“I think she was real with me for the first time ever. It was a little weird. I don’t feel like I really know her, even though she been my best friend for years.”
Park doesn’t respond, but his fingers stroke soothingly up and down my spine. Eventually, I rest my head against his chest and sigh. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Me too, Rosebud. Me too.”
The next two days pass in a blur. We barely leave my apartment. Instead, we laugh and fuck and get to know each other. It’s bliss. But real life eventually comes knocking and I find myself outside my apartment once again saying goodbye.
I wind my arms tightly around his neck and hold him to me, our lips pushed together, kissing each other like it’s the last time we’ll ever get the chance. “I hate this,” I whisper.
“I know, but I’ll come out again soon, or you can come to me. We’ll make it work,” Park says, his forehead resting on mine.
I nod, knowing that if I speak, I might cry, and I don’t want to show him how lost in him I am already.
“I have to go.”
I nod again, but don’t move.
His lips press against mine and I push my breasts into his chest, needing to be as close to him as I can get. I lose myself in the kiss for a moment, but we both know he has to leave, and all this is just prolonging the inevitable.
Forcing myself, I step back and away from his touch. I clamp my lips shut when the words, ‘I love you’ rise up in my mouth. It’s too soon, far too soon. This isn’t love, it’s lust, just honeymoon period infatuation. Except, nothing about Park and I has ever been just lust or just friendship or just anything. But I can’t say it, not now, not yet, so I keep my mouth shut.
“Bye, my Rosebud. I’ll see you soon.”
“Bye,” I whisper, then watch as he climbs into his car and drives away.
When I exit the airport and find Smoke waiting in the drop-off lane, I can’t help the bright smile that spreads across my face.
“Where is she?” he asks.
“My girl is in LA,” I say, grinning again.
“Your girl?”
“Yeah, my girl.”
“Thank fuck for that,” Smoke says, pulling me in for a hug and slapping me on the back once I’m close enough to him. “You got everything sorted then I take it?”
“Well she’s mine. We got that much sorted.”
“So when’s she moving?” Smoke asks as he climbs behind the wheel and waits for me to get in.
“She’s not. Her life is in LA. We’re gonna have to do the long-distance thing until I can figure out how to make this work.”
“You can’t move to LA, brother. Your life, your business, your family is all here in Archer’s Creek. You’d be fucking miserable in LA.”
“I know,” I snap at him as he pulls into the row of cars exiting the airport. “But she’s in LA; that’s where her life and her job and her family are. I can’t ask her to move to our tiny little town. We don’t even have a fucking newspaper. What would she do? I mean I can support us both, but I can’t see her being the type of woman who wants to sit at home all day and be taken care of by her man.”
A tension-filled silence fills the car. “Fuck, Park, would you really leave the Sinners?”
Sighing wearily, I rub at my temples with my fingers. “I have no fucking clue. Two weeks ago if you’d asked me that, I’d have said I’d never leave, but now, I’m in love with her. I’ve had to say goodbye to her three times already and I don’t want to have to do it again.”
“You’re in love with her?” Smoke says, his face twisting to look at me, his eyes wide.
“Yeah, I am.”
“You told her yet?”
“Course not. I don’t want to scare her off.”
“There’s a Sinners chapter in LA,” Smoke says, his eyes back on the road.
“Not for me there isn’t. You guys are my family; another chapter wouldn’t be.”
Smoke nods, and I know he feels the same way. The Doomsday Sinners have chapters all over the United States of America, but the Archer’s Creek chapter is more than just a group of bikers; we’re a family, a real family, and giving that up isn’t a decision I take lightly.
Smoke drops me off at the shop and after a few hours’ sleep I get up and get ready for a full day of clients. My mind is full of my Rosebud. I texted her when I got in, not wanting to call and wake her. She doesn’t know, but I took a picture of her asleep on my chest. I pull out my cell and stare at it, wishing I was with her now, in her bed, her naked body pressed against mine.
The last couple of days have been perfect. The sex is out of this world good, but more than that, just being with her, being around her is easy and effortless. My sleep was peaceful and dreamless. Why do I need to fantasize about her when she’s in my arms for real?
The shop is still empty and quiet and in the silence my mind wanders. I met a girl and fell in love. I’d assumed that was off the cards for me. A few short weeks ago I thought that Taylor was my one and only chance at happiness. How fucking wrong was I?
Taylor. It’s weird to think of her and feel nothing, not even sadness or regret, just nothing. She’s my half-sister, but I doubt we’ll ever be a part of each other’s lives and honestly that genuinely doesn’t bother me. I’m not running and hiding from her anymore; now she’s just a nonentity. She’s unimportant to me. My life and my happiness and the weight that’s lifted from my shoulders at that revelation is immense.
Sighing wistfully, I glance around at my studio. This is my sanctuary. I spend most of my day in these four walls, in this shop, in this town. This place is my home, but is it still home if she’s not here with me? My cell buzzes in my pocket and I pull it out and answer it without checking who it is.
“Hello.”
“Hey,” Rosebud says, her voice soft and sleepy.
“Hey, baby.”
“I missed you this morning.”
“I wish I was there with you. Are you going into work today?”
“Yeah, playing hooky was fine while you were here, but I feel bad just sitting at home on my own.”
“You could always take a trip. I hear Texas is nice at this time of year,” I say playfully.
Rosebud giggles. “Tempting, but I can’t. I fly to Vegas tomorrow afternoon and my flight is already paid for.”
“I know. You should quit your job and become a kept woman. I could look after you,” I say jokingly, while secretly hoping she’ll say yes.
She laughs and I fucking love the sound. I wish I was with her now. I wish I could touch her and kiss her full lips while she giggles.
I part my lips ready to tell her I love her. What the hell am I doing? Clamping my mouth closed, I silently chide myself. I can’t tell her I’m in love with her, not yet. She’ll think I’m a fucking nut job. We’ve only officially been together for a couple of days. I’ve only known her for a couple of weeks. No, I need to stop being a fucking douche and keep it to myself, especially until I figure out a way for us to be together full time.
The bell over the door chimes and I look up and thank God for the interruption. “Baby, my first client is here. I’ve got to go.”
“Okay, I’ll speak to you later.”
“Bye, Rosebud.”
“Bye, Park,” she says, and I can hear the smile in her voice.
My day passes quickly and in the blink of an eye it’s after seven and my last client of the day is just waving as he heads to the front desk to pay. I quickly clean down my station and pack up all of my inks, then turn off the light and head to my apartment. After a long, hot shower, I pull on clean jeans, a t-shirt, and my cut, and I’m back out the door and riding my bike down the highway heading for the clubhouse.
A dull roar of music is emanating from the club, but it’s too early for a real party to have started. When I push open the door, the smell of chili and cornbread hits me and my stomach groans on cue. I wave to Smoke behind the bar and head straight for the kitchen filling a bowl with chili and piling up Ali’s homemade cornbread on the side. The girl might be a pain in the ass, but she seriously knows how to cook.
“Hey,” I say to Smoke as I sit my ass on a stool at the bar.
He slides a bottle of beer my way. “Brother.”
More of the Sinners trickle in, all of them heading for the kitchen and grabbing some dinner. The girls that live in-house cook three meals a day for the club members and Thursday is always chili night. When my bowl is empty and my stomach full, I reach for my beer and drain the last mouthful.
“Smoke, can I get another beer please?”
A moment later a cold bottle is set in front of me and Smoke walks from behind the bar and slides onto the stool beside me. “Here’s to chili night,” he says, holding his bottle out for me to knock mine against.
“Best night of the week,” I say, chinking my bottle against his. Lifting it to my lips, I take a healthy swig. The cold beer runs down my th
roat and I sigh with pleasure. “Fuck, I needed that.”
“Hard day?” Smoke asks.
“Just long,” I reply, rolling my neck from side to side and stretching out the muscles. “I had a full day, plus a couple of the appointments I moved so I could go see Rosebud.”
“I’m surprised you’re out tonight. I thought you’d be at your place whispering sweet nothings to each other, or just sitting and listening to the other breathe. Isn’t that what you guys do?”
“Fuck you,” I say, shoving at his head with my palm.
He laughs. “I’m only playing with you. I like Rosie for you; she’s a good girl.”
“Yeah, she is.”
“You figured out what you’re gonna do about the distance thing?” He asks, his pretty boy face watching me intently.
Sighing, I twist around on the stool so my back is rested against the wood of the bar. “No fucking idea. Her life is there and my life is here. Something’s got to give.”
“Fuck,” Smoke hisses. “You’re gonna fucking leave, aren’t you?”
My eyes take in the club, the men I’ve called my brothers for years; my friends, my family, my home. I love it here. I love my life, but I love her too. I’m not sure I can give up this life I’ve created for myself, but I know now I’ve found her, I can’t give her up either.
“I love her,” I say simply, hoping he can read between my words and see that she’s become the world to me.
“Yeah, I know,” he says solemnly.
“But I’m not gone yet, so let’s get into some fucking trouble. I need to leave a legacy behind me.”
Smoke whoops, then jumps from his stool and leaps over the bar. He grabs two bottles of liquor and tray of shot glasses. “Brothers,” he shouts at the top of his voice.
The room quietens and all eyes fall to him. “We are the motherfucking Doomsday Sinners.”
A roar of cheers fills the room.
“We are not middle-aged pussies who drink coffee and watch fucking Oprah,” he shouts.
A chorus of boos and no’s sound out.
“We are badass motherfucking bikers and we drink hard liquor.”
Another roar of cheers and laughter bursts from my brothers in arms.
