Respectable Riot

by Karen Renee

  My smile expanded. “That is excellent news, First Lady–”

  “Sara, Janie. Call me Sara, and while I know you’re doing what’s right for you in divorcing your husband, I wish you were still going to be part of the political landscape in the Northeast Florida area. You were always a pleasure to be around at those stodgy dinners and the occasionally insufferable lunches.”

  “You’re right, Sara. Those functions are always tantamount to walking a social and political tightrope. I hope you’re able to find other women who will make them more bearable.”

  She chuckled. “You’re quite the diplomat. You should consider running for an office.”

  A powerful and loud laugh burst from me, and it made my wound hurt but I didn’t have it in me to care. “Thank you, Sara. That’s a high compliment coming from you, but it should be noted it is also likely to be the funniest thing I’ve heard all day.”

  I could hear a smile in her voice. “Then I’ve done my job by brightening your day and helping you with your friend’s dilemma. Take care of yourself, Janie.”

  “Thank you, Sara. You do the same also,” I said and we disconnected.

  Beast moved into the room swiftly and came directly to me. “Was that you I heard laughing from all the way down the hall?”

  I shrugged with an impish smile on my face.

  His jaw clenched. “Baby, you’ve got to keep that shit in check. You do not need to do any damage to your stitches and shit. Tell Andi to keep the jokes to a minimum.”

  I bit my lower lip reflexively.

  Beast focused on it, then looked in my eyes. “You weren’t talkin’ to Andi, who were you talking to?”

  “The First Lady of Florida,” I mumbled.

  He just stared at me for a while, then his eyes closed for a moment and when he opened them again there was irritation in them. “You contact her after I told you not to wade into my shit?”

  “I asked her for help–”

  “Janie,” Beast clipped as he ran a hand through the hair on his head and left it resting at the back of his neck.

  I leaned a little forward. “She wasn’t able to do anything anyway. Though it’s worth noting, I was right. Paul had left the judge five messages on Thursday. Not sure why he didn’t return those calls on Friday, but you clearly have a guardian angel, or Katherine definitely does, at least.”

  He kept his hand at the back of his neck, and I watched the irritation leave his eyes. “I’m so fucked,” he muttered.

  I glared at him questioningly. “What the hell does that mean?”

  He looked down to the floor, exhaling sharply from his nose. Then he looked at me like I should know what he meant. “Because, Azalea. All you got to do is lean at me with that fire in your eyes, and you’ll probably talk me into walking to the ends of the fuckin’ earth with a smile on my face. I’m not sayin’ I’m whipped, but you damn sure got a hold over me.”

  I tried to hold it back, but my lips quirked into a semi-proud, closed-lip smile.

  Beast caught it, and his eyes lit with benign anger. “So fucked.”

  TWO WEEKS AFTER I WAS discharged from the hospital, I was at my physical therapy appointment. While I didn’t exactly love going to therapy, I did love the fact the clinic opened at seven in the morning and I was able to squeeze in the hour-long appointment before reporting to work at eight-thirty.

  Bobby and Quinton had told me days ago to stop apologizing for what seemed like my never-ending litany of doctor appointments, but I couldn’t help myself.

  I was sitting in a chair against a door, pulling on a thin rope on a pulley, feeling like an absolute dunce when I heard familiar voices. It was especially alarming because at half-past seven, it was highly unlikely anyone I knew would be in the clinic.

  To my further surprise, my therapist, a tall, handsome, thickly-muscled black man stiffened, but said, “Woman, you cannot—”

  Then one of those familiar voices said, “Save it, Leon Russell. We were in the neighborhood–”

  She stopped short, but her eyes hit me and she stared. “Well, hey there, Janie!”

  I heard the other familiar voice and saw Mallory standing there. “Janie, what are you doing here?”

  I tugged the rope in the other direction, thinking that should explain it.

  “She’s my patient, and I seriously do not understand what either of you two are doing here so damned early in the morning.” His gaze narrowed on his wife. “Where are our boys, Tash?”

  Natasha gave him a dry look that said, ‘You have to be joking.’ Then she actually said, “With my mother. It’s spring break, and by ‘break’ I mean to have at least a modicum of a break from all children in the mornings.”

  I giggled and Leon glared at me. “Miss Janie, how many is that?”

  “Uh,” I started, because honestly, Natasha and Mallory were a force unto themselves and I had lost count. “Fifteen, I think,” I fibbed.

  His glare intensified. “For good measure how ‘bout you tack on five more, then another set of ten.”

  I nodded because I didn’t trust myself to speak.

  Mallory seemed impervious to Leon’s deteriorating mood and she sidled up to me. “I’m sorry I didn’t get to see you in the hospital. Cal was firm about me not intruding, and I’m pretty sure that’s because Beast was not happy with the number of visitors you had as it was.”

  I chuckled as I tried to keep count of my reps. “Yeah, that’s for sure. Thanks for dropping by here. It’s awful early, what on earth possessed you?”

  Mallory giggled. “Natasha. That’s what possessed me. She likes dropping in on her hubby at his work place, but she doesn’t get many chances to do it without the boys.”

  I nodded even though this was all news to me. “So, if I have this straight, you drove from Mandarin to Natasha’s and then came here. This early in the morning?”

  Mallory grinned at me. “Hardly. I have an appointment ‘round nine. I hate driving the Buckman with a passion, and Cal intends to be there, so we spent the night at the clubhouse. Leon and Tasha don’t live that far from there, so, I tagged along.”

  With a knowing look at Mallory, I asked, “A baby-bump appointment?”

  If I didn’t know better, I’d have said she blushed, and she murmured, “Yes.”

  “Congratulations!” I exclaimed, but tried to keep it on the quiet side.

  “Thank you,” Mallory said with a smile.

  “Can tell you told her,” Natasha said as she rejoined us with Leon trailing behind her.

  “You lettin’ the cat out of the bag, Mallory?” Leon asked her.

  Mallory wobbled her head. “A little bit here and there.”

  Leon tipped his chin up, but then asked in a serious tone. “You got a name yet?”

  Natasha’s eyes threatened to pop out of her head, such was her dismay. “You did not just ask that!”

  “What are you talking about, Tash?”

  She shot him an incredulous look. “You thought if we had a daughter her name should be ‘Leonora!’ That’s nearly criminal to lay that on a little girl. You’re hardly in a position to name anyone’s child, Leon.” Natasha declared.

  Leon folded his arms across his burly chest. “Woman, I named both of our children.”

  “You did not! I suggested Derrick and—”

  “No, I suggested Derrick, you got a dreamy look on your face—”

  Natasha stepped into Leon’s space. “Whatever! It’s a decent name, but we agreed. That means you did not single-handedly name him.”

  Leon looked to the window and then back to Natasha. “I single-handedly, as you put it, named Nate.”

  Natasha tried, but failed, to hold back her splutter laugh. “You did not! That was all on our favorite soap opera, The Young and the Restless.”

  Leon’s eyes widened and even I felt trepidation for Natasha, but at this point Mallory giggled.

  “She’s got you there, Leon.”

  Leon shot a semi-nasty look to Mallory. “You don’
t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

  Mallory leveled serious eyes at Leon. “Oh, yes I do. His full name might be Nathan, but even I know y’all called him Nate from the get-go and all of that stems from Olivia and her adorable little boy on Y&R at the time.”

  Leon jerked his head away from Mallory muttering, “Whatever.” He looked to me, why I did not know. “Janie, don’t listen to them. I got great taste in names. Mallory just needs to hear me out with an open mind.”

  IT WAS FRIDAY EVENING, and four weeks after the shooting. I had put in a full day at I.T. Jax, but before I called it a week, Beast texted asking me to hang at the clubhouse. He was working nights Mondays through Thursdays, so Fridays through Sundays were ours. I wasn’t sure how he finagled that, since it was the busiest time of the week, but I was learning not to ask about certain things.

  Truth be told, I was more than happy to be sitting at the bar at the Riot MC clubhouse. During my lunch hour that day, I had signed the final documents on my divorce. To say I felt liberated was like saying a bird flying high felt free. There was a part of me that wanted to mourn losing something I had so much hope for in my early twenties, but the majority of me shoved that thought aside with serious force. Now that it was the end of the week, and the end of my crazy marriage, I was more than ready to let my hair down.

  The front door opened and Mallory, Natasha, Frankie, Tennille, Andrea, and Trixie crowded into the common room. Mallory pulled away from the group, and beelined it straight to the stereo system.

  When she was done, she came directly to me. “Well, this isn’t entirely accurate for your situation, but it’s a great song for today, in my opinion anyway.”

  I saw she had a small remote in her hand. She cued the music, and P!nk’s “So What” started playing. I had heard the song before because I was a consummate fan of P!nk, but I was startled when I heard her sing about losing her ‘husband.’ My thoughts were derailed as I watched Mallory with her small baby-bump dancing around and fake boxing as the song referenced starting a fight. I chuckled as I watched her, but I realized she was right.

  This song absolutely was appropriate for me today because it forced me to realize I didn’t need my ex-husband. I was damn sure having fun, Trent and I were done, and though I hadn’t thought it possible months ago, I was just fine. So I joined in with Mallory’s dancing, though not the air-boxing.

  By the time the song was done, I noticed Trixie was standing at the stereo. Frankie moseyed up to her, but I saw her shake her head as she picked the next song. Surprisingly, it was another song by P!nk, “Bad Influence.”

  Trixie grinned her mischievous grin at me. “Tequila for you, Janie! Beast will love it if it makes you flirty.”

  I sat down and a prospect pushed a tequila shot in front of me. My fingers gripped it, but I didn’t feel like downing it.

  A large body sat down on the stool next to me. “Damned appropriate song for Trixie. She loves being a bad influence on anybody, but seeing as how you comin’ to visit her here is how I came to meet you, I’d say she’s an extremely bad influence on you, cher,” Roman said, eyeing my shot and me.

  I grinned. “What on earth are you doin’ here?”

  He shrugged a shoulder. “Checking in, and checking up on things. Glad to see Beastie got over his fears.”

  I shook my head at him. “He never had any fears where I’m concerned. You were definitely wrong about that.”

  His head nodded to the shot. “You gonna down that or what? Otherwise, I’ll be happy to take it off your hands.”

  I pushed it his way. “Be my guest, Roman.”

  With my focus on Roman, I didn’t realize Trixie saw what transpired, and she came up behind me shouting, “Oh, no no! Prospect get her a shot. She can’t be pawning them off on other brothers. Let’s go, Punky! Ain’t a better time for Cuervo than when you’re newly divorced.”

  Another shot was put in front of me, but before I could down it, a heavy arm settled on my shoulders. “My woman’s havin’ my favorite wine without me? Set me up, Ron, stat!”

  “Same as her, or something more?”

  I watched as Beast’s stubbled lips tipped up. “Definitely more, man.”

  He turned toward me but looked past me to Roman. “Pretty sure you got somewhere else to be, Candle-boy.”

  Roman leaned into my space and I got a whiff of his enticing cologne. “Don’t fuck this up with her, man. You deserve the real deal, and I don’t have to tell you, she’s it.”

  Before Beast, or I for that matter, could retort, Roman moved away from the bar. When Beast had his drink, he looked to me. “Bottoms up, baby. You got maybe ten minutes before I take you to my room, and then it will really be bottoms up for you.”

  I downed my shot like a woman, put the glass back to the bar, and leveled my eyes at Beast. “My divorce doesn’t exactly change much. We’ve been carrying on as if it were finalized regardless. What’s got you in such a party mood, or are you just a biker who never needs a reason to party?”

  His brilliant blue eyes glittered at me with excitement. “Well, there’s that, certainly, but I got word today. Devin’s paternity test finally came back so the department of vital statistics and Judge Perez have declared Devin Katherine’s father.”

  I smiled. “Well, then, I guess you do have reason to party.”

  He nodded. “That’s right, now drink up.”

  I shook my head. “I just did.”

  He looked at my glass. “Coulda fooled me.”

  My shot glass had been refilled and I just caught Ron putting the bottle back on the shelf. My gaze went back to Beast. “Are you trying to get me drunk?”

  “Might be. Drink up.”

  CHAPTER 29

  Janie

  AS SOON AS I WAS DONE with the shot, Beast grabbed his glass in one hand and my hand in the other. We wove our way through Mallory, Cal, Rage, and Abby.

  Rage shouted after us. “Hey! I thought this was a party ‘cause of her divorce!”

  Beast looked over his shoulder. “Like you need a fuckin’ reason to party, brother!”

  When Beast locked the door behind him, he set his glass down and immediately pulled my hips toward his.

  “Know you’re healing up every day, Clumsy, but I still want you to ride me and I’ll help by holding your hips. First though, I’m goin’ down on you and if you’re good–”

  “If I’m good?”

  He brought a finger to my lips. “Yeah, ‘if you’re good,’ I’ll let you blow me, but it won’t be for long. I want to finish in you. Got my test results back this morning while you were at work. We’re good to go bare, and I’m aching to take you that way, though I’ll have to use serious self-control, seeing as I want to go hard.”

  “We could go hard,” I muttered at his finger.

  His finger fell away, so his hand could glide over my bad shoulder. “No, babe. Not gonna mess up what the doc did for your shoulder. I have to contain my excitement, that’s fine, it’s why you get to blow me.”

  I frowned, but pointed out, “We’re doing an awful lot of talking and no acting.”

  His hands dipped to the buttons of my blouse. “Then let’s get on that.”

  The beauty of wearing a blouse was not only the fact I didn’t have to raise my arm above my shoulder, but also the fact that it normally gave me time to unbutton Beast’s pants. Listening to him talk about containing his excitement made me eager to get my own pants off though, so I went after my jeans instead of Beast’s.

  He chuckled. “Someone’s impatient.”

  “Okay, pot.”

  His eyes twinkled as he gently slid the sleeves down my shoulders. It warmed my heart how gentle he was with me. I hadn’t paid attention to it before the accident, which didn’t say much about me, but there was no way to miss him treating me like a delicate flower after the accident. My jeans were pooled at my feet, I stepped out of them while I hooked my thumbs in my panties, but Beast grabbed my wrists.

  “Ah-ah, Clumsy. I get t
hose honors. Turn around so I can undo your bra.”

  I turned around, and while he undid the clasp, he muttered, “I thought you bought more of those front-closing bras.”

  He turned me and slid the straps down my arms.

  “I only bought four. I don’t really like those things.”

  His lips and eyes betrayed his internal debate. He shrugged off his cut while he struggled with his thoughts. With an eyebrow arch, his tone held a hint of a question in his statement. “You just like having me put your bra on every morning.”

  My eyes slid to the side, and my hands went to the hem of his tee sliding it up the muscular ridges of his torso. “Not if I’m in a hurry,” I deadpanned. “Takes you three times as long to put it on me because you always give the girls attention and it turns into a make-out session.”

  “Speaking of...” he whispered, took over removing his shirt, and moved me so I was forced to sit on the bed. He sunk to his knees and greeted my breasts with his mouth.

  I wanted to lean back into the bed, and Beast must have sensed this. Withdrawing from my breasts, he kissed his way down my belly and gently pushed me to my back on the bed. He pulled my panties down, and then I had to contain my excitement at having him expertly licking his way through my folds and sucking my clit. His hands forced my legs wider and a little higher on the bed. The force he used provided a hint of his thin grip on his control.

  Lifting my head to watch him, his heated eyes met mine and he pulled away.

  “No way that’s good for the muscles around your shoulder. Lie back, Clumsy. Now,” he said sternly.

  I did as he asked with ill grace. “Jesus, you’re bossy. Just so you know.”

  He chuckled against my core. “Oh, I know. I also know you like it like that.”

  My urge to sit up again was fierce. “I do not–Oh, hell,” I moaned. His hands were still on my thighs which kept me from being able to writhe my legs and that only increased my building tension and intense need.

  “Beast, God, please, get inside me,” I begged.

  His tongue plunged inside me, and it felt fantastic. “That’s great honey, but you know that isn’t what I’m talking about.”