Devil's Due: Satan's Devils MC Colorado Chapter #3

by Manda Mellett

  It wouldn’t be bad for me either. Except, I couldn’t take her up on the offer if she actually made it. Not when I’d promised Sally.

  But a bed for the night, that would be welcome. Better than trying to drive through unfamiliar streets and locate the clubhouse in the dark.

  I shoot off a quick text to Pal explaining the situation, then follow Stevie into her spare room.

  Chapter Eight

  Despite nearly falling asleep on her couch, the moment my head hits the pillow in Stevie’s spare room, I’m wide awake. The bed’s comfortable, the pillow is soft just how I like it. I’ve got the ability to sleep anywhere, but for some reason, I can’t drop off.

  I can’t stop thinking how terrible it must have been for Stevie and her family to receive the information so early in her life that she was going to go blind. Does knowing help you prepare? Did she have counselling? She seems to be such a well-balanced person, proud of how she’s adapted, not ranting or raving about what she’s lost. I can’t help but admire her. In the darkness I grin. That comment about me jumping her bones not being unwelcome? That took me by surprise and shows she’s no shrinking violet.

  But in the same way I hadn’t made a move on her, she hadn’t on me. It wasn’t a suggestion to be acted upon, just put out there. Was she serious? Hell, I don’t even know if she’s available. We didn’t talk about partners.

  Problem is, even if she’s free, I’m not.

  At first, when my brothers had started finding their soulmates, I couldn’t understand how they believed one pussy could satisfy them for the rest of their lives, until a certain woman came to the compound. But she could never be mine, she was Rock’s. Becca never had a notion that while she viewed me as a big brother, what I managed to successfully hide from both her and everyone else, was that my feelings for her were far from fraternal. Rock never knew thank fuck, if he had, being his friend wouldn’t stop him putting me six feet under.

  I was happy for Rock that he’d found his other half but viewed their relationship with some jealousy. The answer, in my eyes, was to find a good woman for myself. But despite the luck my brothers have had, it seems finding one is like searching for an elusive unicorn.

  Before Becca, I was perfectly happy with a variety of pussy in my bed every night. That I was happy to share with my brothers shows I’m not a possessive man. That’s who I am, not a partner or husband. Perhaps Sally and I would never have worked as I’m not the settling down type.

  Maybe there’s not a woman out there for me, and maybe I don’t really want one. The thought of being serviced by sweet butts is enough to get my dick to perk up. I can get female companionship from the old ladies in the club. What more do I want?

  If God had blessed me with features women admire, maybe my choice would be wider. But he hadn’t, and it’s not.

  I have nothing to offer a woman like Stevie except one night in my bed.

  But even that’s forbidden, I’m still shackled to Sally by the foolish promise I’d made. I’m a man of my word, but by God it’s going to be hard to keep it.

  Stevie’s attractive, no denying that. Probably the type I’d lust after but couldn’t have. She’d step out with someone far better looking—if she could see them. But she’s no sweet butt, and I couldn’t live up to any other type of expectation. I’ve experienced living with a demanding woman once, and I won’t be leaving myself open to that again. Selfishly I suspect there would be even greater challenges with Stevie. Remembering to speak all the time rather than gesturing is one change I already need to make, and I’ve enough difficulty remembering that. I might be tidy—learned that in the army—but hey, I’m a man. Sometimes I leave my boots where I drop them.

  Maybe that’s why she’s alone? Perhaps she doesn’t like dealing with anyone else’s shit lying around? I wouldn’t blame her, if untidiness results in her repeatedly falling over and hurting herself.

  I like Stevie, but I’ll need to be ruthless. If she’s serious about me spending time in her bed, I’ll have to refuse. Don’t want to raise expectation. But I can be her friend. Seems there’s no one else, so I’ll be there when she needs someone to take her to visit with her dog. Sure, she could take a taxi, but if she’s going to receive bad news, she needs support. I can do that. As long as she respects my boundaries. Friends. Nothing more.

  I don’t remember when, or what was my last thought, but eventually, I must have dropped off. When I wake it’s because the door of the guest room opening disturbs me. I sit up fast, my hand reaching for the gun that I keep in my cut as I come around totally disorientated and not knowing where I am.

  “Stay there,” she instructs. “Let me put this down. I don’t know how you like it, so I did it like mine, with cream, but no sugar.”

  As she comes closer, the welcome aroma of coffee wafts up. I keep still as steadily and surely she makes her way over and places the cup on the bedside table. “It’s half-past-six. I hope that’s not too early for you. I’d like to be there eight on the dot, if you’re still okay with that offer you made last night.”

  “No problem, babe. You sleep okay?”

  She sits on the side of the bed. Having watched her carefully I read her intentions and shift my ass to accommodate her. “Not really. I tossed and turned worried about Max.” She bites her lip. “I don’t know what I’ll do, Beef, if I lose him.”

  She’d come in all composed. My innocent question had brought her worries to the forefront. Immediately I feel guilty. “Babe, let me hold you.” When she doesn’t protest, I put my arms around her and pull her against my naked chest. Her hand touches my pecs.

  I don’t even think she’s conscious of it when her hand starts to explore, just like she’d done when she’d been mapping my face.

  Then she lifts her hand away. “I’m sorry…”

  I place her hand back. “Knock yourself out.” It’s nothing more than a sighted woman checking me out.

  Her fingers explore, moving across my chest one side to the other, and down over my muscles. “A six pack?”

  I nudge her hand downwards. “Eight.”

  “Hmm.” Her mind, for a moment seems to have been taken off her dog. While I’m realising she’s going to stop soon, my cock is getting very interested and swelling in hope of some attention.

  But she seems focused on my chest, and now, on my arms. “You’re very big and muscular, Beef. I can see how you got your name.” The same touch from another woman would give me completely the wrong idea. Hers, well, it’s just like someone else staring. As I look down at the tight tee she’s wearing over figure hugging jeans, I’m wishing I could take the same liberty. But feasting my eyes will have to do.

  “Are you looking at my tits?” she asks, her voice amused.

  “What? No?” I lie. “Why do you ask?”

  “Because that’s what men do, isn’t it?”

  It feels natural to lean forward and place my lips against her cheek. “You caught me. I may have told a small fib.”

  “Have you got tattoos?”

  “One or two.” The laughter comes through my voice. There’s not much of my skin that isn’t inked.

  “A stereotypical biker?” She smiles. “Describe them?”

  “Well, on my back I’ve got a full back patch. It’s the Satan’s Devils insignia, the Devil with a scythe looming over three demons.”

  Her smile widens. “I’m picturing it. What else?”

  I run through some of my other tats, her hand tracing them as I describe them. “Let’s leave the rest for later.” My cock is currently going mad with her tactile exploration and I’ve got to stop this before I do something stupid like tell her my dick is tattooed.

  “Yes.” To my combined relief and disappointment, she stands. “Drink your coffee. Bathroom’s down the hall. Clean towels are in there if you want a shower. I’ll get some breakfast going. Bacon and eggs?”

  “Thank you.”

  By the time I’m showered and dressed—a quick trip to my bike to grab a clean t
ee in the saddle bag—she’s got breakfast on the table.

  “I did scrambled eggs. Fried can be a bit hit and miss.”

  “It’s perfect.” Indeed it is. It might be because I’m extra hungry, but it’s one of the most delicious breakfasts I’ve had. I’m still amazed how she managed to cook it. Intrigued, I ask her.

  “By smell,” she replies. Her face completely straight.

  “Really?” My eyes widen. “You can tell when something’s cooked by the smell?”

  Her head bobs up and down fast. “Yup.”

  “Wow, that’s amazing.”

  “When I smell smoke, I know it’s overcooked.”

  It takes me a second then I roar with laughter. “You’re pulling my leg,” I complain.

  “A bit,” she agrees with a smile.

  Her smile is even broader when half an hour later we’re allowed to go in and see Max. James takes her to an indoor kennel where Max is lying, tubes and wires attached to him. I’m glad she can’t see them, but James takes her hand and gently traces them with her, explaining the gadgets that monitor his heart rate, and the IV running into his leg providing him with sustenance. He explains he’s quiet because of the pain relievers and mild sedative he’s been given to help him keep still.

  Stevie’s not the only one over the moon to learn he’s progressing well, and, that if there are no problems today, James will operate on his leg the next morning.

  The best bit? Well that was when Max opened his eyes and his tongue came out to lick the hand of his mistress. I had a tear in my eye at that point, which I turned and rubbed discretely away.

  We visit for an hour. When she leaves with assurances James will call if anything changes, and a promise that yes, she can visit this evening, all too soon we’re standing in front of her house, and I suddenly don’t want to leave her. She’s easy company, while, apart from Paladin, I have virtual strangers waiting for me at the clubhouse.

  “Want me to take you back later?”

  “I can’t ask you to do that.”

  “You didn’t. I offered.” Watching the sunlight play on her gorgeous hair, highlighting streaks of natural red in it, I know more time in her company would be no hardship at all. “Honestly, babe. I feel invested in Max’s recovery. I’d like to check up on how he’s doing too.”

  “Well, if you’re sure. Thanks Beef.” She turns and starts to walk to her door, then takes the same number of steps back. “Beef, look. I’ve had enough pity, strangers thinking I need help. If that’s all you’re doing it for, thank you, but I don’t need it. I’d rather you said it now, then string me along.”

  “Stevie,” I trap her hand, partly because I want to feel her skin against mine and partly to stop her from moving away. “Apart from my brothers you’re the only person I know in Pueblo. You said you were new here too. Seems like two newcomers could do worse than spend a bit of time finding out about the place together. I’m not pitying you. Fuck, you know what? It’s the total opposite. I have immense respect and admiration for you. And fuck strangers, you know what? They don’t look beneath the surface. They see me, big fella with tattoos and wearing a cut? They walk the other way. You see me, babe. They think as you’re blind you need help? That’s because their eyes might work, but they don’t see you.”

  She’s quiet for a moment. Then she rises on tiptoe. Whether she was going to place a kiss against my cheek or whether her intention was for us to touch lip to lip I don’t know, but our mouths meet. Briefly. My cock jerks. One fucking kiss, no tongues, and I swear it felt like an electric shock.

  I’m doubting the wisdom of seeing her again when she touches her hand to her lip, smiles and says, “See you tonight, Beef. About six?”

  With no hesitation, I agree, “Six it is, babe.”

  Finally, after something like a sixteen-hour delay, I arrive at the clubhouse. Demon’s leaning on the bar, a cup by his side, deep in discussion with Cad. I go straight across to pay my respects. After the back slapping and handshaking is done, he steps back and I await the expected interrogation as Cad nods and wanders off.

  “How’s the blind bitch and her dog?”

  “Girl’s fine, Prez, dog seems to be coming along okay. Took her to see him this morning.”

  “There’s our Beef. Brief and concise.”

  I swing around. “Morning, Pyro. Thanks for your help yesterday.”

  “Bet that vet went into all sorts of details you can’t even remember.” He grins.

  “Fuckin’ can. He’s on dexmedetomidine for the pain and the antibiotic Convenia given subcutaneously.” I raise my eyebrow, expecting a further comment. He doesn’t disappoint.

  “Well, look at you. Spouting that shit. Bet you made all that up.” The laughter in his eyes belies his mocking tone.

  Demon clips him around the head. “Just because you don’t know shit, don’t mock those who do.”

  I could be back in the Tucson clubhouse. I grin.

  “Bit of a strange welcome to the town. You know who drove into her?” Demon takes a sip of his coffee while staring at me.

  “Not a clue. According to the cops, no one thought to get the license plate.” I shake my head.

  “Someone fall asleep at the wheel?” Pyro’s stopped laughing and looks serious now.

  “Hard to tell. But you’d expect that on a freeway, not in the middle of town.” I’m kicking myself as I didn’t check the plate out myself. But Max’s scream of pain had been distracting, and I hadn’t known at the time whether Stevie had been hit or not.

  Demon whistles and shouts, “Cad.”

  A head pops up from the other side of the bar. “Can you see what you can pick up on any security cameras out where the hit and run happened?”

  “Where was it?”

  I glance at Pyro, who nods and goes over to where Cad is sitting to explain exactly where it was. I have no fucking idea.

  “Thing I don’t like about it, is that the fucker drove off. If it was an accident, why didn’t he stop?”

  Shrugging, I respond, “Could be any number of reasons. He could have been shocked. Worried about getting a ticket. Embarrassed as fuck.”

  “Or, it could have been a hit.”

  I round on the man who’s spoken. “Thunder. Good to see you.” Another exchange of back slaps.

  “Good to see you too, Brother.”

  “I can’t see how it could be a hit,” I respond to his first statement. “She hasn’t been in Pueblo long, not long enough to make friends let alone enemies. That was the reason I stayed last night. She had no one to call or to help her. She works from home, so couldn’t rely on any co-workers. Don’t see why anyone would want to hurt her.” Or, if Max hadn’t pushed her out of the way, worse, killed her.

  Cad’s head reappears again. “Want me to check up on her? Got her name?”

  I do, but do I want to invade her privacy like that? “Nah, Cad, thanks, but not now.”

  “Is that it?” Demon asks. “Or are you seeing her again?”

  Feeling sheepish, but not understanding why, I look him in the eye. “I’m taking her back to visit her dog this evening.”

  “Can’t say I blame you.” Pyro wanders back. “Bitch was hot.”

  Chapter Nine

  My temper flares. Man’s got no right to talk about her like that. Doesn’t he know she’s… Huh? Where did that come from? Instead of ranting, I sling my arm over his shoulder. “You’re not wrong. Hey, meant what I said. I appreciated what you did last night.”

  “Not a problem. Can see what caught your interest Brother. You tapped that, yet?”

  “Nah, and I’m not going there.”

  His brow creases as if he’s considering for a moment. Then he shrugs. “Just wondering what it would be like to fuck a woman who’s blind.”

  Not much different to anyone else I wouldn’t think. “A hole’s a hole, Brother.”

  “Hmm.” He doesn’t sound convinced. “You ever had a girl let you blindfold her?”

  “Nah, never,” I
truthfully reply.

  He nods sagely. “Takes a lot of trust, that. Did it once, but she wasn’t into it. Had to untie her as she was too worried what I’d do to her. S’pose the bitch girl’s a bit like that.”

  I eye him thoughtfully, never considered that. I wonder what it would be like? Then push those thoughts away. “Well, neither of us are going to find out. She’s a nice woman, way out of our league.”

  “Nah, she wouldn’t be worth the bother. Her problems would be hard to cope with.”

  Demon’s obviously bored waiting for us to finish our conversation. He suddenly asks, “You want to dump your shit in your room, Beef? I’d like a word with you when you’re done.”

  “Sure, Prez.” God. I had to force that word out. I’ve only called two men that before, the first was Bastard, then after he was killed, Drummer. It seems strange and wrong, making me suddenly homesick.

  “Prospect?” Demon yells.

  When the prospect who I remember is called Wills appears at a run, Demon has a few words, then the prospect’s raising the saddlebags I’d dropped at my feet and is leading the way up the stairs. I follow, wondering what kind of room I’ll be in. I know there’re two types here, a few basic rooms with a shared bathroom, and others with an en-suite of their own. I’m praying mine will be one of the latter as I’ve been spoiled in Tucson for years.

  When Wills unlocks the door then hands me the key, I poke my head around, quickly spying the doorway through to the adjacent bathroom, and relief comes over me that I’m not going to have to share. I’m too old for that shit.

  “Keep your door locked at all times,” he warns.

  “Who don’t we trust?” I narrow my eyes.

  “Not who, what. Bitch can open these door handles and she doesn’t like men so be careful.” Turning around I eye the door handle, thinking with some quick work with a screwdriver it could easily be turned upside down. I wonder why no one else has thought of it.