by Snow, Nicole
I'd heard those two were due to get married soon. Made me wonder if Blaze had always been a big bad bastard with a good heart, or if having Saffron as his old lady had softened him. Whatever the case, he'd given me my ticket out of there.
I vaguely remembered how to drive, but without a license, rentals and cheap clunkers were out of the question. I called a taxi instead and spent the next few days holed up in a hotel just outside town.
Winter was about to settle in over Missoula and the Bitterroot valley. I was getting out just in time, heading West. Putting some mountains and a few hundred miles between the Prairie Devils MC and myself seemed smart.
By some miracle, my emotions stayed in check all week. It didn't hit me until I actually climbed on the bus parked at the station and it took off for Coeur d'Alene.
I couldn't resist looking back at the long highway leading into town from the window, remembering how warm and strong and loving Stinger felt beneath me. Remembering his smell, his kiss, his taste...God!
Why couldn't I forget the things that hurt worse than anything the dead Rams did to me?
The bearded guy in camo several seats over stared at me like I was nuts as I broke down and covered my face. I let it all come out for several dozen miles, gasps and tears and hurt, one last bitter avalanche before I left Montana forever, trying to forget the man who would've given me everything.
V: Cold Blooded (Stinger)
Months Later
The club's Christmas Party was a real fucking drag. I'd been looking forward to it for a couple weeks, hoping it would take my mind off the deep freeze clouding my head ever since she left, but it just did the opposite.
The brothers and supporters with their families had come and gone. Now, it was mostly just the single brothers, and the raunchy business was in full swing. I was at the bar, pouring extra Jim into my beer, ignoring the face sucking and excited gasps going on in the corner behind me.
I lost my taste for Jack the same night my appetite for fresh new pussy went out the window.
Had to switch brands of whiskey and started drinking a lot more beer since the night the Rams fucked us. Puking your guts out'll do that.
Or maybe the shit reminded me of Alice too damned much. The scent of Jack was heavy in the clubhouse the last time I saw her, before she kissed my unconscious head one last time and blew town.
I should've been in my old room railing Sugar and Spice right about now. Of course, I missed my chance about an hour ago, when they took off with our newest patched in brothers. Smokey and Stone were probably railing their little asses and high fiving each other right that second. All while I sat by myself trying to get blasted, wishing my dick could get hard to some girl who wasn't cold, scared, and completely fucking outta reach.
Fuck. I picked up my tall pilsner glass and dropped more whiskey in my dregs of beer before swaggering off the bar stool, wandering the clubhouse by myself. The place was a wreck like it always was after a big bash. This one started out low key and gentle as any family event hosted by the club, and then devolved into crazy shit later on after the kids were gone.
I dragged my ass to the window facing the main drag by the gate. Snow was falling, crisp and neat, making for a white Christmas just a few days before the big day hit.
Also meant I was really trapped. Christmas put a cold stop to all but the most essential club biz. Brothers disappeared and spent more time with their old ladies and their families. After this bash, the bars wouldn't be as well stocked for a little while. Worst of all, hopping on my bike and going for a ride was out of the fucking question with powder and ice like this shitting up the roads.
There was nothing to do but shuffle around like a ghost. Blaze and Saffron took off hours ago for their place. Now, it was just me and the brothers who still got their dicks wet with any hot pussy or mouth they could find.
Wicked reminders everywhere that I wasn't doing the same damned thing, and I wasn't even tied down with an old lady. It was all because she'd gotten underneath my skin and wouldn't get the hell back out.
Didn't fucking matter she'd been effectively outta my life since Jack Frost came to roost. Fuck, I was thinking about her right now, remembering the way she'd ruined my lips forever with her addictive little lips.
If I hadn't been sick as hell that night, I would've tasted a whole lot more.
The poison hit me pretty bad, but it didn't stop my cock from straining like it was gonna rip through my pants, hard and horny and ready to get between her legs. I would've tried it too if that shit hadn't knocked me out.
When I woke up, she was gone, and there was no way short of defying a direct order from the Prez to change that. Blaze wouldn't even let me call her or send the shit we'd found in the Rams' old clubhouse. I had her license and her sketchbook, vicious mementos I couldn't help but pluck out and look at on cold, brutal nights like this. Roller found the ID and gave it to me after they picked over that shithole and dug up the buried weapons shipment that satisfied the Feds to keep Tank free.
I sucked down my brew and left the glass on the windowsill. Halfway down the hall, I heard a woman scream, unmistakably close to climax.
“God! Roller!” Marianne, the buxom blonde, was getting reamed good in the whores' room.
“Fuck!” I watched my younger, leaner brother tense up through the little slit in the door.
His lip ring bounced and thrashed as he ground his hips into her. He snarled and emptied his nuts, pulling her legs tight around him, thrusting as deep as he could go.
My cock wanted a piece of that, and wanted it bad. If only I could make my asshole heart shut the fuck up and let it go.
I walked on. What I found in my old room was a real surprise.
Soon as I was through the door, I heard a woman squeal, the kinda scream I'd know anywhere. Emma looked up with her blonde locks bobbing, chin hooked to Tank's bare shoulder.
The big guy clearly hadn't slowed down one bit since claiming her a few months ago. It took him a few seconds to turn around and see me.
“Fuck! Sorry, boss. Didn't know you were still hanging out in this place.”
Em's cheeks flushed beet red. He gently settled her down on the old bed, the same one where I'd been so fucking close to Alice. I sighed and looked at the floor, taking my eyes off them for the nurse's sake. Tank zipped up quick and I heard her clothes shuffling behind me.
“Didn't meant to interrupt anything, brother. Just needed a place to crash. I'm too fucked up to go home tonight. Looks like the party's running on fumes...”
Tank rolled his huge shoulders, settling his cut. He looked at me and grinned. “Not for Em and me. It's okay, boss. We were just getting started. We're gonna head out and keep the party going somewhere we can have some fucking –“
“Privacy,” Emma finished, elbowing him in the guts, straightening her pants.
They both looked at me sheepishly. A second later, Tank threw a possessive arm around her, making her squirm playfully against him. Shit, her collar was still way too low, giving me an easy view of the bright red suck marks he'd left on her skin.
“Drive safe,” I grunted, nodding politely to Em as she wrestled out of his grasp and walked past me. “The club's finally getting a rest for Christmas time. Well fucking deserved too.”
“Sure is,” Tank agreed, tugging his leather straight one more time before walking out.
He was almost gone when he stopped with one foot out the door, turning back to me. “You take care too, Veep. Don't get into the same bullshit funk I did. I can smell the shit rolling off you. You're a free man, boss. Don't let some pussy who doesn't want you keep your balls in a vise.”
I wanted to laugh in his face. But I was too damned tired for arguing with brothers, especially in this state. Nodding, I watched Tank and Em slip out to the garages for their car. Me stumbling in on them was just a temporary delay.
Didn't take a genius to figure out they'd be going back to the sweet house he'd bought for them and railing her little ass all ni
ght. One thing was for sure: she'd been good for the big bastard, and the last man I ever expected to take advice from had actually given me some shit worth thinking about.
I leaned down and sniffed my cut. Fucking Christ.
Tank wasn't kidding. I smelled like I'd gotten piss drunk and rolled around in it. What a damned disgrace.
I shouldn't have been moping around the fucking clubhouse – especially not after a big bash like tonight. I should've slowed down on my drinks and gotten home. The little apartment I rented from a local dude who had a son with ties to the club wasn't much, but it was warm and peaceful. It didn't make my skull rattle with bitter memories like every second I spent in this room.
Yeah, there was a lotta shit I should've done, but damned if I was gonna. Every fucking second that girl lingered in my head, staring at me with her icy eyes and taunting me with her sweet fucking lips, meant another second I was gone.
Completely fucking lost.
She'd taken me on a bad trip and I wasn’t coming back 'til I could bleach her outta my head, or else finally see her again. Best I could do tonight was rip open the old dresser drawer where I kept the only pieces of her I still had.
First, I picked up her old ID, fingering the edges. Same damned card Blaze had stopped me from bringing to her personally before she blew town. If I would've had a forwarding address, I sure as shit would've sent it onto her, but she could've gone all the way to fucking India for all I knew.
I didn't have a clue where she'd taken off to, and nobody was telling me neither.
Blaze was a bastard for keeping her from me, but I had to admit, he'd made the right call as Prez. Last thing this club needed was for the media to hear about a full patch officer riding across state lines and kidnapping a chick.
And yeah, there were days when I thought about that too, just taking off and going the fuck after her, even if it meant my bike skidding off an icy mountain pass or coming home to face a beating from my brothers. If I had any idea whether to head east or west, I'd have done it, consequences be fucked.
As it was, I had nothing. Nothing. Not even a single bone left behind to chase my damned tail.
My lips twitched sourly as I picked up her sketchbook. I tore through the pages, staring at the shit I'd seen and marveled over several times before. The girl was good. If she couldn't remember drawing like this, I hoped like hell it would come back some day.
The first page had a castle rising high to the moon in a desolate wasteland. The big, grinning beast behind it had a weird resemblance to the Devils' patch, the big smiling face with its sharp teeth and horns that always leered out our colors.
On page two, there was a cowboy with a revolver in hand. He was one surly looking badass motherfucker, and a couple unhappy girls lingered at his feet, crying on the ground like slaves. Would've been disturbing if it wasn't for the pointy ears she put on everybody.
Then there was one last drawing before the book ran into boring, half-finished everyday things. A shirtless dude with a sword held it up to the sky in triumph, something dark like blood dripping down his six pack, his teeth peeled back in an animal grin. The girl from the last sketch was at his feet, only this time she was looking up and smiling, arms wrapped around his thick leg like she was about to suck his dick straight to heaven.
I smiled like a fucking moron at this. Wasn't sure why. Guess it said my baby had hero fantasies, or maybe she just had a soft spot for real men.
Except she wasn't my baby. My smile melted. Alice might as well have been a million miles away on the dark side of the fucking moon. And I wasn't her hero by any stretch.
I'd let her walk, let Blaze whip my ass into line for the good of the club, let her roll into a world that sure as shit wasn't gonna do her any favors. It wasn't gonna cut her any breaks for her suffering either. If I'd learned anything since earning my patch, it was that a person had to earn everything in this fucking world from square one.
Lady Luck's hugs and kisses were rare, and they only went so far. They were usually much too fucking late too. Beth taught me that.
Fuck, how many years had it been? Coming up on two goddamned decades?
The shit still got to me like it happened yesterday. I threw the sketchbook back in the drawer and pushed it shut with a snarl.
No use wasting another second in here this cold night.
I walked out and slammed the door behind me. Several dudes on the ground rolled, rudely jostled in their sleep by the sound. I picked up my glass off the windowsill and headed to the bar to finish what I started.
More Jim. More beer. More venom.
No fucking way was I heading home tonight. No point when there was nothing to go home to.
I must've downed two more tall glasses of my gnarly cocktail before the furry heat in my brain started to go black. Shuffling off the bench, I hit the floor and rolled several inches, sprawling out on the empty floor.
Last thing in my head before I blacked out was her, and then I swore. Damned good reason to.
Even with enough liquor in my system to choke Tank, I couldn't stop thinking about Alice, and it was scary as shit. I was well and truly cursed, fucked beyond recognition unless I got my arms around her again.
If that day ever came, I wasn't letting go. Not for Blaze, not for common sense, not for anybody. The girl was a goddamned Siren, and the only way to get my dick wet without losing my mind was to find her, take her, and finish what we'd started.
Sometime during the night, my dick jerked. I sat up, and instantly felt something between my legs.
The soupy, pleasant buzz in my head was in that stage where it was turning into hangover torture. Needles throbbed in my eyes when I moved, twice as hard when I saw dark haired Sugar with her face dangerously close to my crotch. The bitch leaned in, rubbing her cheek against my length. My dick didn't give a single shit about the hammering in my head.
“What the fuck?!” I grabbed her hair, fisting it in one hand.
She giggled, obviously drunk herself. Guess Smokey or Stone hadn't exhausted her either because when she leaned up, I saw she was shirtless, her small pink nipples brimming like rosebuds.
“Shhhh,” she whispered, holding one finger to her lips. “We both know this has been coming for months. How do you want it? Mouth? Ass? Pussy?”
My eyes wanted to crawl right outta my head. My cock jerked again. It had been a long time, so fucking long. This slut was offering me anything and everything, a buffet of lust and hot white skin spread out for me to devour.
When I didn't answer, she moved for me, going for my fly. The zipper jerked down and her little hand reached in, grasping my whole fucking length.
“Oh! Jesus, Sting...hard as a fucking rock and big too. Can't say I'm surprised.” She licked her lips. “I knew you were huge. Let's see if I can wake you up and help shake that hangover...”
My cock writhed in her hand as she drew it toward her lips. At the very last second, my hand jerked, violently throwing her head against my knee by the hair.
“Ow!” She jumped up and scrambled away from me, rubbing her temple. “What the hell's the matter with you? Fucking drunk!”
Yeah, I shook the hangover all right. Hadn't even tucked my cock in when my body bolted up and jumped on top of her, savage instinct boiling in my blood, mad dog killer shit I hadn't felt since tangling with the Rams and Grizzlies.
My hand went for her throat and I pushed her to the ground. Now, she looked genuinely scared. My cock wasn't sure if it liked what was happening or if it was about to deflate in horror.
“Jesus, Sting! I –“ I cut her off with another vicious yank of the hair.
“Get the fuck out and go suck another brother, or lick the cold ass ground for all I care. You're a slut, Sugar, you and that other bitch, good for these parties and nothing else. If you ever sneak up on an officer of this club again and shit on him in any way, I'll have your ass thrown the fuck out and banned from this clubhouse. Got it?”
Shock and disgust shone bright in her
eyes. Had to give the bitch's hair another rough tug to make her listen. Fuck me, her nipples were still hard enough to pound nails. My cock was gonna hate me forever for turning this down.
“I understand.”
Done. I released her. She jerked away, scrambled to her feet, one arm thrown across her bare tits. I watched her ass bob as she high-tailed it back to the room she was sharing with her sister-in-sluttiness and the two new brothers.
With her outta the way, my headache stirred with a vengeance. I crawled to the nearest corner and collapsed, turning my face to the side so I didn't choke on anything that came outta my guts. It was a long bitter night sleeping off the worst feeling I'd had since the Rams' shit was in my blood.
I couldn't decide if I was an idiot for poisoning my own stupid ass this time, or if I should blame Alice instead. The girl left her mark, her venom so deep I couldn't find an antidote. And it was pretty fucking strong when it made me turn down free pussy.
“Sting? Stinger?”
Someone was shaking me, and it sounded an awful lot like Sugar. Jesus Christ, what did I have to do to get this bitch to leave me alone?
I popped up before I bothered opening my eyes. The woman shaking me screamed as she was knocked off her knees. Eyes open, head pounding something fierce, my jaw dropped as I saw Saffron sprawled out on the floor.
Fuck! I was about to apologize, but I never got the chance.
A brick smashed me in the mouth and I went down, grabbing for my teeth, tasting pure blood. When I tried to get up, but a boot slammed me right in the middle of my back, knowing where to twist into my spine to cause the most pain. The brutal weight shifted as its owner leaned down to my ear.
“You fucking asshole!” Blaze growled. “You ever push my old lady like that again, and I'll do a lot worse than shake your jaw. What the fuck's gotten into you?”
The boot pressed a little harder, and then came off. Soon as I rolled, slowly, knowing I was in a world of shit, Blaze grabbed me by both sides of my cut and hauled me up, throwing me against the wall.
