by Naomi West
Okay. At least he’s straightforward.
“Right. Okay.”
“Were you actually worried that you wouldn’t be a mother?”
I stare at him for a moment, my brows furrowed.
“Honestly? The thought occurred to me. Especially since we haven’t really talked logistics outside of … my personal life won’t be disrupted while we’re trying, and I’m not supposed to sleep with other men. Which, I think is a given, but whatever.” I laugh a little. “It’s just. I really, honestly … would love to be a mother, and I had a small fear that once everything was said and done, I wouldn’t be able to get that because this was initially something that was for you.”
Booster stares at me pensively for a moment. I think he’s still trying to wake up, which I understand. I allow him these moments to compose himself and figure out what he’s trying to say when he scoots a little closer to me.
“I knew that you wanted kids. When I chose you,” he says. “Remember, I was watching … You don’t realize, but you have this look on your face when you watch other the students coming and going from the school, and when you’re talking about your classes. You’re passionate about kids. So there’s no way in hell that I would keep you from ours.”
I like the way that he says ‘ours’ too much. I like the way that he admits watching me and understanding me even more than that. I like that I’m being given the chance to have a child—unconventional as it is—way too much.
But I do. I can’t deny it, and I can’t deny that I believe everything that Booster’s telling me. Maybe it’s just because I want it bad. Maybe Booster’s just … Maybe we’re …
I lean forward, kissing him. He kisses me back easily, threading his fingers through my hair and pulling me closer to him still. I find myself growing weak for him, and I sigh against his mouth.
“Hey. Come help me make breakfast,” I tell him. “I want to know how you fry eggs so well …”
He laughs, and stands up with me.
We spend the day together. He helps me make breakfast and clean up after, as well as clean up the rest of my house. We’d have gotten done in record time … But Booster is easily distracted when I’m in nothing but my underwear. We end up having sex again, first in the living room, then in the hall, eventually making our way to my room. After, we bathe together … which just leads to more sex.
In this weekend, I’ve had more sex than I think I’ve ever had in my life. Booster has stamina and just … keeps on going. And going. I can’t say that I’m complaining, however. I’m not. I love the way he can just take me and take me, cum inside me, and still be hard to go again.
By Sunday, I’m addicted; I know I am. There’s no way that I can’t be, and in all honesty? I don’t really mind, if it’s Booster’s cock that I’m addicted to.
I’m addicted to him.
Sunday also brings my car, and the reminder that another school week starts. I’ll be driving myself to and from school again, and I won’t have Booster to myself for hours and days on end. It leaves a little feeling of melancholy when he leaves my home. I stand on the porch and watch him as he walks down toward his bike. He waves to me when he’s on and also after his helmet is on. I spare him one in return, waving back to him, wanting him to come back and take me up in his arms, sweeping me back inside to have at me again.
I’ve got it. Bad. And there’s nothing that I can do to stop it.
Not like I want to, anyway.
Chapter Twelve
Happy
He’s waiting up for Booster to come to the clubhouse. He stands outside, leaned against one of the posts of the clubhouse porch, smoking a cigarette a little impatiently.
Booster hasn’t been around all weekend—Happy suspects that Booster’s been spending his time with that woman he says he wants to have his child. That schoolteacher … Lena Hedland, according to the bit of snooping that he’s been doing since Booster told him about the wild ass idea he’s gotten all up in his head regarding that woman. She isn’t very notable. She doesn’t even seem like she’s all that important. But Booster has been all in his head over the bitch and Happy’s coming to realize …
At first, Happy thought that Booster was playing coy. That he wasn’t serious. Honestly, how could he have thought that Booster was actually serious about something as crazy as getting a woman he doesn’t even know to carry his child? A woman who probably won’t even seriously consider the offer, anyway. She’s a schoolteacher, for cry out loud!
But more and more attention of Booster’s time has been put into this woman. He’s looked into a few of Booster’s records, seeing the kind of money that he’s dropped on her. Bribes, probably, or incentives. But it’s with those purchases and Booster’s continued absences—unless they’re entirely necessary—that Happy realizes that Booster is, in fact, very serious about having a child—someone that can take over for Booster when he steps down.
With this, Happy starts getting antsy.
Happy wants to lead the Wylde Ones one day. He knows it won’t likely happen while Booster’s alive, but it sure as shit can’t and won’t happen if Booster pops out a kid on him, either. That’s as good as shoving him out of the way.
The thought angers him. He’s been kissing ass all these years, and sure, it’s gotten him a VP position, but Booster doesn’t really care for him, nor does he obviously trust him to take over the club if he’s trying to get himself an heir.
It’s why he’s tried to have Pixie hit on Booster more, but that’s not going well.
“Hey, Happy!”
Speak of the damn devil, and she shall appear.
Happy draws in another puff of cigarette, blowing it out as he hears Pixie come up behind him. She wraps around him, hugging him. She’s a hot little thing, and she likes him. He likes her well enough. He’s pretty sure that she’s got all these notions of settling down, but he’s not that interested in her. She’s a warm space between a pair of thick thighs, and that’s about all she’s ever going to be to him.
No offense to her, but that’s just the way things are.
Still, it doesn’t hurt to have her fawning over him. It makes her do what he wants her to do, because she wants to make him happy.
“Pixie. What do you want? Anything good to tell me?”
She stiffens behind him a little. She knows what that question means.
“Not really …” she says slowly. “Last time he was here, I tried to make him stay. He said that he had things to do—but he did say maybe next time!” she explains. She must be referring to when the fight broke out. He made sure that got way out of hand so that Booster would be forced to come back here, but it obviously didn’t work as well as he’d have liked … Booster turned Pixie down; he’s obviously got it bad for that other woman.
He scoffs.
“Whatever. It was one time. Try harder again next time. Give him a flash of pussy; show off your tits. Booster’s a man that needs a little incentive, you know?” She’s a club girl; it shouldn’t be that hard to get a biker’s dick hard and his brain turned away from other things, in all honesty. Her inability to give him results is starting to annoy him. She isn’t all that smart, but it doesn’t take brains to get some dick from someone.
He snorts.
“Maybe he’ll get you pregnant instead, and then it’s a surefire way of getting us to the top, huh?”
He turns his gaze to Pixie, who looks positively mortified at the thought. Happy laughs at her, patting his hand on her head.
“I’m just fucking with you, babe. Listen. Just do this for me, make me happy, okay? I want this. I want to be the one to lead the Wylde Ones one day. Booster hasn’t been around a lot, has he?”
Pixie shakes her head.
“And who’s been around, doing shit while he’s off doing fuck knows what all the fucking time?”
“You—”
“Me, exactly. Get me this, get him distracted, back on course for what we want, and I’ll be the happiest man alive.”
> With that, he takes one last drag of his cigarette, pulling in smoke before puffing it out. He tosses the cigarette to the ground, stepping on it with his boot to put out the embers.
“Next time, get him to fuck you,” he tells her. “This is as important for me as it is for you.”
Pixie watches Happy walk off, heading over to his bike. Her eyes stay on him as he slides on, and watches as he rides down the winding dirt road. It’s only when he disappears that she lets out a breath, not having realized that she was holding one to begin with.
Pixie doesn’t understand why this is how Happy wants to try and get back into Booster’s good graces … There was a point where she was certain that Happy and Booster were close. Closer than a lot of the boys in the club. But things changed. She doesn’t know when they changed, but they did. And that changed Happy, too.
She doesn’t like that Happy wants her to try and woo Booster. It doesn’t make any sense to her; doesn’t Happy want her? Happy tells her he does, but she needs to do this one thing for him—she needs to get Booster to want to fuck her, to distract him enough that he forgets about this silly baby stuff.
If she does that for him, it’ll make him very, very happy.
She regrets that she has to agree to keep trying to get Booster to sleep with her, and it’s obvious to Pixie that she’s not sure it will work. She and Booster have slept together in the past, but it was always … because Happy nudged her there, not because she wanted Booster. Her eyes have always been on Happy, not Booster, and besides, Booster doesn’t want her. Happy’s not going to take Booster not wanting her as an answer, however.
She has to seduce Booster, one way or another.
Chapter Thirteen
Lena
I’m back to driving to school, which I appreciate—even if I miss arriving on the back of Booster’s bike. People talked the whole week that he took me to school, and though I’ve managed to dodge questions so far, other teachers in the English department corner me during lunch in the break room.
“So, Lena. Where’s the hunk from last week run off to, huh?” Mrs. McCallister slides into the table beside me. She’s one of the newer teachers in the English department, just a little younger than I am, and rather happily married—though that doesn’t stop her from gossiping about any and every hot male that she sees. It doesn’t surprise me that Booster’s caught her gossipy eye, and the other women in the department gather around, wanting to hear the juicy details as well.
Admittedly, I’m a little embarrassed, but I’m not afraid to talk about Booster. I take a bite of the sandwich that I packed for today’s lunch, amused at the way the others lean in to hear what I have to say. It’s almost like being a part of a special clique, or something. It makes me giddy, like I’m a younger girl again, talking about a popular boy that’s had his eyes on me.
I explain, without giving away too much, that I had a little accident the week prior with my new car. There’s a lot of concern (I hadn’t actually told anyone about the accident prior to this,) but what they are really interested in is the next detail that I give—that Booster was kind enough to give me a ride.
“Oh my god, that’s precious!”
“What a gentleman for such a rugged-looking hunk.”
“Just the kind of thing we read in all those books our kids aren’t interested in enough to read themselves!”
I laugh a little.
“Yeah. Kind of sweet, wasn’t it?”
All the teachers in the English department are huge, huge romantics, and they latch onto the idea of me having a bad boy rescuer after I explain about the wreck and how he took care of me—they even agree to keep the fact that I lied about being sick for a good cause.
This is the most that I’ve spoken with them about a man. I’m not the one in the department that dates (not like I can call what Booster and I are doing dating, but it’s better than calling it ‘baby making for profit.’)
As odd as it likely is, I find that I like this interest in my relationship with Booster—even if it’s a bit of a stretch to call it a ‘relationship’ as far as dating goes. I wonder if Booster would be interested in something like that, but I think that’s something better suited for considering in the future, if ever—things are already complicated enough trying to conceive a baby, and I’m still not sure how I’m supposed to confront that with my coworkers when it happens.
Only time can tell.
***
Booster doesn’t take me to and from school anymore, but he has gotten into the habit of surprising me at home sometimes. It’ll be a little late, getting close to dark, and I’ll have had a long, rough day and the thing that boosts me up is seeing him in my driveway, leaned against his bike as though he belongs there.
Tonight is one such night. I have every intention of heading into my house, turning on TV, and maybe getting in some reading while I put off grading the hefty number of essays that I need to grade.
Instead … I think my night is going to be a little nicer than that.
I slide out of my car and walk over to him.
“Hey there, stranger,” I say. He pulls me into his arms, kissing me deeply before I can say anything else. The action instantly warms me inside and out, and I flush against him.
“Hey there. You have some time for me tonight?”
“Of course I do.”
We don’t waste a lot of time getting inside. That’s the beauty of this all—I don’t feel like I need to be shy; I don’t feel like I need to take my time with him. I like having the freedom of getting away with having a feeling, an urge—being aroused—and being able to act on it instantly.
Booster leads me upstairs. He’s well aware of the layout of my home by now, having taken the liberty of fucking me in every room of it by now. For this reason, I expect him to take me immediately to bed. Instead, he tugs me into the bathroom.
“You look like you need to relax,” he says when I look up at him, puzzled. “So I’m gonna have you relax before I have you screaming my name a little too loud, all right?”
Something warm and fuzzy buzzes through me, and I don’t have enough resistance in me to even consider going against what he’s asking of me. That’s all right though. Booster starts undressing me, taking my mind away from anything else. He stoops down, pulling me out of my low heels, and then slides up to hook his fingers at my pantyhose. He pulls those down with my panties beneath my skirt, leaving me bare. The cool of the bathroom air chills against my excited, warm core.
I quiver as he moves up. He grins down at me, and for a moment turns away. Confusion sets in momentarily, before I see that he’s stooping over to get the bath running—so I don’t have to stand here naked and chilled before I get into the water.
Who would have thought that he was the thoughtful type?
The water begins to fill in the basin of the tub, and Booster turns his attention back to me. He gets me out of my top, undoing each of the buttons one by one before sliding me out of it. That just leaves my skirt.
I keep my eyes on Booster. The electricity between us is intense, and I almost tell him to just forget the bath and fuck me.
I’m good, though. I let Booster turn me around and, as he brushes his lips against the nape of my neck, he unzips my skirt and starts to shimmy it down on me, leaving me bare before him.
“Get in.”
His voice is low and husky. I know that he’s feeling this just as intensely as I am, and it makes me draw in a shaky breath as I comply with his request. The water is still running, and the bath is almost full. I turn the water off before stepping in and moan as the heat licks up at my legs, warming my skin.
“Oh … that’s nice.” I sigh and close my eyes as I sink into the water, letting it rush over my body and warm me up nicely. I hear Booster getting undressed, the zip of his pants and the dull thud of his clothing hitting the floor. It raises the anticipation of the act—making me want this even more knowing that he’s about to join me.
I keep my eyes cl
osed, even as he slides into the tub behind me. He gently urges me forward, and I do so, sliding in the water to accommodate him being behind me. I feel the hardness of his cock press behind me, and I have to hold in a moan.
Oh god … it’s so easy to imagine just … scooting back and letting him slide inside me …
The thoughts don’t ease up as Booster wraps his arms around me. He pulls me back against him, and I go to him willingly, laying my head back against his shoulder.
“Hmm … You’re comfortable.”
“You’re only saying that because my dick’s against your back.”
I laugh. “Maybe in part, but it feels good like this. Don’t make fun of me; I thought you were supposed to be making me relax, hm?”
