Rebel Custody

by Sarah Hawthorne

  “Hey, asshole.” I dropped my flowers onto the couch. If I had to land a punch, I didn’t want them in the way. “Are we gonna have a problem? You shouldn’t be talking to a lady like that.”

  Miri stepped in between us. “Everyone, settle down, okay?” She put her hand on the suit’s shoulder and gave him a little push. “Pete was just leaving.”

  Pete turned to leave but stopped at the door. “I wanna make things clear,” he began. “Take a long, hard look in the mirror. You think a girl like her is going to date a no-good biker like you? You’re just her rebound after me. You can never give her what she wants.” Acid dripped off his words.

  This guy was out of line. Just to scare him a little, I took a step in his direction with my fist raised.

  He ran. I didn’t bother to follow him. Once the sound of his footsteps faded, I looked at Miri. “Nice guy.” I handed her the mangled roses.

  “Thanks. They’re lovely.” She collapsed into a chair and sniffed the roses.

  She placed my roses on her desk next to a gigantic basket of flowers. They were probably from the asshole who just ran out. Maybe he was right. I was just the asshole biker who shopped for flowers at the damn grocery store. Miri deserved a big bouquet from a florist, like what the other guy had brought.

  “That was an ex?” I guessed as I stalked around her office, too keyed-up to sit down. Stopping in front of her desk, I picked up a big, glossy brochure. Romantic cabins in the woods. “His idea?”

  “Yeah,” she said. “He wanted to reconcile. I didn’t. I’m sorry, I didn’t know he was going to drop by.”

  “How long ago did you break up with him?” I had a sinking feeling in my gut.

  “Three weeks.” She bit her lip.

  “You were still dating him when we met?” I asked. Fuck.

  Pete, the asshole, was right. I was the breakup guy, the rebound.

  I laughed—after years of fucking hookers, I had finally fallen in love with a woman, and the only reason she was interested was because I was the dangerous biker. She probably broke up with her suit of a boyfriend because she thought I would be better in the sack. If all she wanted was orgasms, then I could do that. Only that.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Miri

  “Forget about him,” he said as he walked the perimeter of my office, closing the blinds.

  Stopping in front of me, he pulled me to my feet and grabbed my hips. I could feel his hardness as he ground himself against me.

  “I want you,” he said, biting my earlobe. “Tell me you want me.”

  I shivered. He slid his hands around my butt and then lifted. I had no choice but to wrap my legs around him. He walked the two steps and set me on the edge of my desk.

  I tried to kiss him, but he was already bending, working the buttons on my blouse. Instead I ran my fingers through his hair, needing to touch him.

  “Jean Luc,” I couldn’t help but moan—he’d found my nipple through my bra and was sucking on it.

  I decided to hurry things along by unbuttoning the fly on my slacks. He eased them down my legs, and I kicked them off. Then I headed for his fly, but he grabbed my hands and stopped them.

  “Are you going to put your bibitte in my pelote?” I asked, using the words I had learned when we made love.

  “No,” he growled. “I’m going to bury my face in your twat and lick you until you come, then I’m going to smell you on my fingers for the rest of the day.”

  Despite the harshness of his words, I could practically hear the lust in his voice. He wanted me, and I wanted him.

  He kissed me again and pushed me back until I was sitting on my desk. He broke our kiss and looked deep into my eyes. “You’re gonna let me do it. Aren’t you?” he demanded.

  “Yes.” It was never really a question.

  His finger flicked over my clit, and I nearly jumped off the desk. There was no denying it—I was going to let him do whatever he wanted to my body.

  Jean Luc stroked me. “You’re so wet for me—just one touch and you’re ready for my dick.” He smirked. “But not yet. Now I get what I’ve been dreaming of, and it’s gonna be more than just a little taste.”

  He kissed his way down my chest and to my stomach before kneeling in front of me. Then he looped my legs over his shoulders. Even my gynecologist had never been that close. Maybe this was too much. Maybe this was a bad idea. I pushed at his shoulder.

  “Don’t run away, ma cher.” He rubbed his cheek on the inside of my thigh. “If you run away, I won’t follow you. Make sure that’s what you want.”

  Then he licked me. It was just my outer lips, but I screamed a little.

  “Mmmmmm, save that for later,” he murmured. “You’ll need it.”

  Then he licked my clit, and I understood what he meant. I needed to save my strength because I was fast turning into a puddle of pleasure.

  With regular sex, he moved and I moved and we were both racing together toward a goal. Oral sex was different. It was all about me, and I liked it.

  My hand slipped between my legs, and I ran my fingers through Jean Luc’s short red brown hair. I felt the muscles of his neck move as he sucked on me and then went down to lick around my opening. It was all so much sensation, and my fingers tightened in his hair.

  The phone rang. “Ignore it,” I whimpered. I didn’t want anything to stop this.

  He pulled away from my clit. “No. Answer it.” He glanced up at me, his face obscured by my body. “Answer it,” he said as the phone rang again. “Or I’ll stop.”

  He gave me a delicate little lick.

  “Hello?” I answered.

  “This is Carlton, from the third floor?” the person on the other end said.

  “Uh-huh” was all I could get out.

  Jean Luc closed his lips around my clit and began to suck. I tried to control my breathing, hoping Carlton wouldn’t hear my gasps.

  “So, um.” Carlton paused. “I’m covering a case for Darlene while she’s out. Did she tell you anything about the gas station case she was covering? Any notes?”

  Jean Luc backed off a bit to give me a rest. I moved the receiver away from my mouth and tried to catch my breath. Then he eased a finger inside me. I cried out a little as he began to stroke.

  “No.” The sound came out as a squeak. I quickly moved the handset back and tried again. “No notes.”

  “Um, are you okay?” Carlton asked, sounding confused. “Are you sick or something?”

  Jean Luc began to suck again and moved his finger in and out. The office started to spin on an axis, and all I could think about was his amazing mouth and the sensations that were starting to fire all over my body.

  “Yes!” I called out. Jean Luc couldn’t stop now.

  “You’re sick?” Carlton’s voice crackled over the receiver and jolted me back to awareness.

  “Yeah, sick.” I threaded my fingers through Jean Luc’s short hair. He played with my clit with his tongue. “Bye,” I said as I slammed the phone down.

  An orgasm was close; I could feel it. I focused on Jean Luc and his mouth.

  “Yes!” I said again as he suckled harder. “Oh God.”

  My hips bucked, and I couldn’t hold back. The orgasm racked my body. My fingers tightened in his hair, and I rubbed myself on his face, wringing every bit of pleasure I could.

  When I stopped and he finally moved back, I knew that I needed him with me. “I want you,” I said, sliding my fingers around his shoulders. I tried to bring him back up to kiss me, but he pulled back.

  Jean Luc stood, leaving me spread-eagled and exposed on the desk. His eyes roamed my body, lingering between my legs before something on my desk caught his eye.

  “TrueGene. These are the DNA results, aren’t they?” He picked up the envelope and opene
d it.

  “The paternity test results are positive,” he said, examining the paper. “Christophe is mine. You got your rebound guy, and I got my kid. Let’s just call it square.”

  He didn’t even look back as he left.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Skeeter

  I leaned my forehead against the stall door in the bathroom. I couldn’t even make it back to the clubhouse. I fucking fled to the bathroom in Miri’s office lobby. My cock pulsed in my hand. Christ, I wanted release. My body craved it, but I couldn’t get her out of my head. Couldn’t fucking let go.

  She had been the first girl who made me want something real, but it was all just a fucking game to her. I was just the rebound guy to get over her ex. I had been the dangerous dick she had wanted. For a minute, I thought we might actually be happy.

  I gave my cock two hard pumps with my hand, thinking of her face, and I came. I was just a fool jacking myself off in a bathroom stall because I thought she had actually cared about me.

  Finally, my body stopped raging, and I got my shit together. I needed to figure out my next steps with Christophe. Trying to involve a fucking lawyer was a stupid idea in the first place.

  Christophe was my son, and he belonged with me.

  * * *

  I took a long drag off my cigarette. I stopped smoking four years ago, but goddamn, it felt good now. My fingers shook as I dabbed it out in the ashtray. I’d let my fucking hurt and disappointment get out of control when I fired Miri. The way I had treated her, there was no way she would take my ass back—not as a client or anything else. But I still had to figure out how to get Christophe.

  Racking my brain, I tried to piece together Miri’s plan. Something about suing Davide for custody. That would require lawyers, judges, and police officers to keep Davide from disappearing. No police officer had ever stopped to help me before, and I doubt they would now.

  We kept huge pieces of paper for masking off shit when I was working in the paint booth. I ripped off a piece and spread it out over the pool table. Then I started to draw. I sketched out an aerial view of Davide’s motel. Everything I could remember from the way the parking lot was laid out, down to the chairs outside Davide’s door. My mind raced, and I formulated a plan; I just needed some help.

  I gathered up the guys in the clubhouse—Rip, Clint, Roach, and Colt—and showed them my work.

  “So if we all hide here, in the ivy—” I pointed to the vacant area, “—then we can wait for them to go to sleep and then bust in and just take Christophe home with us.”

  The guys were quiet, but finally Colt spoke up.

  “What does your lady lawyer think of all this?” he asked, shoving his hands in his pockets.

  Before I could answer, the front door to the club swung wide open and filled the bar area with harsh sunlight. Very few people outside the room had the code for the club door, but we all grabbed hold of our weapons just in case. Tate and four men walked in.

  Colt went over and greeted them. “Hey, guys!”

  Fuck. These guys were fresh from California, coming to finalize our place in the Demon Horde club. Volk and Hawkeye were officers in the mother chapter, and Maori and Little Bill were friends, henchmen, enforcers. I wasn’t sure. I’d met them all briefly at the patch-over party last year.

  I started to roll up the plan that was spread all over the pool table. Clint stood in front of the pool table, trying to block their view. I owed him a beer.

  “What’s that?” asked Maori, the huge Pacific Islander with mean-looking tattoos.

  Damn. Everyone turned to look at me, and the big piece of butcher paper was only half rolled. They could easily see part of the motel.

  “Just a drawing.” I just kept rolling, hoping they wouldn’t notice the fact that hiding places and multiple exit routes were clearly marked.

  Everyone gathered around, and I knew I was fucked.

  “Hey, that’s pretty good,” Volk, the president, said. “Let’s see the whole thing.” He was nice about it, but I knew a command when I heard one.

  I looked at Tate. He took a deep breath and nodded. Fuck.

  I unrolled the map and spread it back out on the pool table. The new guys studied every detail.

  “You gonna rob the joint?” Volk asked me. Then he frowned at Tate. “There better be something damn good in there if we’re breaking and entering.”

  “I didn’t know I had a kid until a couple weeks ago,” I explained, hoping this wouldn’t hurt our chances for finalizing the patch-over. “My ex is dead, but her brother won’t let me have custody.”

  “So you’re gonna bring him home anyway?” Volk guessed.

  I nodded. The room was silent as we waited for the guys from California to react.

  Volk rubbed his chin. “Take me through it,” he said.

  “So we hide here.” I pointed to the patch of ivy at the top of the hill. “And we wait until Davide leaves. Then, once it’s just the girlfriend and my kid, we’ll move in.”

  Tate brushed his beard and studied the map. “You wanna do it invasion style?” he asked.

  “Yup.” I’d gone through the scenario a hundred times in my head. “Fast. Easy. Masks.”

  Colt rolled the cue ball back and forth down at the end of the table. “I’m no expert on kids, man, but that’s gonna scare the shit out of him.” He shrugged. “Can’t you just take him to the park and then go home to your place?”

  I shook my head. “Already thought of that. Davide would see it coming. I don’t have any time alone with him. He’d know something was up as soon as I didn’t show up with Miri, and I can’t involve her. She’s a fucking lawyer. It wouldn’t work.”

  Everyone was quiet, all staring at my drawing. “You got DNA tests back, then? You know he’s your kid?” Colt asked from the end of the table.

  “He’s mine. Lawyer told me today.” I pulled the envelope out of my back pocket and handed it to Colt. The guys passed it around.

  Stepping back, I let the guys talk amongst themselves. Colt eyed me from across the table. He knew something was up.

  “What the hell happened to your idea to do this the right way?” Colt asked. “Through the courts and all?”

  Everyone looked to me, waiting for an answer. Good fucking question.

  “Davide wants forty large. My lawyer says my other option is to bring in Children’s Administration and have Christophe put into a foster home.” I opted not to tell them that I was supposed to be that foster home. I didn’t want to admit that I’d been heartbroken that Miri was just using me as a rebound fuck and fired her. “I can’t risk him never coming out or Davide running to ground and never seeing Christophe again. There’s only one way to do this.

  “There’s one more step,” I said. Someone in the back groaned. “I need my lawyer, Miriam, here too. She’ll be a target for Davide until he leaves town. The kid thinks she’s my girlfriend. It’ll be an easier transition for him.”

  Having her at the clubhouse for even a single night was going to be torture. I was a fucking sap and would fall for her shit. But I would just have to suck it up and ignore her or stay away from her.

  “So we’re gonna have the lady lawyer staying with us, here in the clubhouse, until this all blows over? And she’ll be okay with that?” Tate leaned against the pool table and crossed his arms.

  I nodded. “I’ll do that part on my own. I just need you guys to help with Christophe.”

  Tate blew out a whistle. “I don’t like having Englestein’s daughter here.”

  “Englestein?” Volk looked at me sharply. “Our lawyer? What’re you doing with his kid?”

  Loving her. Fucking her. Neither now. “Nothing. She came with me to a party once.” I shrugged. Trying to minimize my relationship with Miri hurt like hell.

  “Is that all?�
�� Volk asked. “Because that could get really fucking messy.”

  “It won’t. All she wanted was one night. It’s over, and I decided to get my kid the fastest way possible.” I raked my fingers through my stupid short hair. “I could stash both of them at my house if you don’t want them here.”

  Christ. Putting both of them at my house made my nerves flash all over my body. All I would be able to think about was what she looked like in my bed. Besides, I could protect them so much better here at the clubhouse, and everyone knew it. I never had to consider protecting a woman and child when I’d bought my place.

  Tate shook his head. “I don’t like having them out there in East Bumfuck either.” He sighed. “How long before this guy, Davide, is out of our hair?”

  “Fast.” I hoped. “As soon as we threaten him a little bit, he’ll haul ass out of town.”

  Volk leaned and braced his hands on the side of the pool table. “Look, let’s give her the choice. She can either come to the clubhouse and we protect her here, or we’re giving her to Englestein immediately. You got that?”

  I nodded. Those were fair terms.

  “Family is important.” Volk looked at the other guys from California and then back to me. “Let’s do it.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Miri

  After Jean Luc left my office, I went home early and waited for Lizzy to come home. I related the day’s events to Lizzy as she and I sat on the couch and drank wine. Some 1950s black-and-white movie was playing—on mute—in the background.

  “I thought he could be the one,” I said, leaning my head against the pillows. The tears had dried long ago. “It’s not like we had been seeing each other long, but I just never felt like that about anyone before. I can’t believe he turned out to be such a royal asshole. Pete told him he was the rebound guy and not good enough for me, and Jean Luc just agreed that was true. He never even asked me. Never bothered to see what I had to say.”

  “Yeah.” Lizzy took a sip. “But I’d bet money he is a lovesick royal asshole who is super hot and deserves your forgiveness. He was just afraid he wouldn’t measure up.”