Old Lady (Iron Disciples Book 2)
Page 3
I can’t help it this time. Old man or no old man in the next room, a sheer cry of insane pleasure is ripped from my throat and my hips buck against my lover’s hand and face. Suddenly I don’t know what feels better, my clit or my ass; or maybe it’s just one combined sensation that is driving me fucking mad.
Finally I can’t take it anymore. I need him inside me. I need to feel his rock hard cock and his pelvis slamming up against mine. I don’t care about his injuries anymore. I have to be fulfilled.
I roll over and look into his eyes. He needs this as bad as me. I see his raging cock up against his ripped abs a clear steady stream oozes from his engorged head. Then he enters me.
“Oh fuck!”
It's all I can say, and those words were torn out of me as he jammed his cock inside with one ferocious thrust.
“Oh fuck!”
He repeatedly slams into me like a jackhammer but each thrust feels harder, more fulfilling than the previous one if that’s even possible. Every time he enters me I get this simultaneous explosion of ecstasy between my legs and in my brain. It’s like my own personal fireworks display behind my eyes where I’m the only one who can see or feel it and it’s pretty damn spectacular! After his climax he literally collapses on my body mashing my tits beneath his muscular chest. A fine sheen of sweat covers both our bodies and I’m starting to feel like I’m slow roasting the oven.
I put both hands on his chest and give him a shove. “I need to breathe a little King Kong.”
Reluctantly he rolls over, then scoops me up in his arms so that I’m lying on his chest now; a much more comfortable position. Given his injuries I am surprised he can tolerate my weight on his battered frame. He doesn’t show it, but I’m pretty sure he’s in pain. On the other hand… when I think about it though…something doesn’t add up. I don’t know what it is, but I’m gonna find out. And it’s not just about his injury and pain, but something about the deal with him and his brother. Something’s not right.
Time to push a little. “So… you’re not really going to turn yourself in to get your tattoo burned off are you? I mean…that could kill you right? Or at least put you in the hospital.”
“It…could do those entire things babe.”
“So why not just disappear and forego the whole tattoo thing.”
“Yeah…the club would never allow it. It’s a matter of pride and respect. They’d follow me to the ends of the earth and when they eventually catch me they’ll kill me and not just remove the tattoo. This is the only way I can break free of the club; sorry.”
“Why’d he let you live?”
This is just one of the part’s that just doesn’t make sense. Wouldn’t have made more sense to just kill Cade and make a clean break? Now Eddie has to worry about his brother changing his mind and going after him again or starting a new club and coming after him. I don’t get it. I’ll admit I’m not all that knowledgeable about MC culture so maybe I’m missing something here.
“He let me live to solidify his base. I think he figured there were too many Disciples that are loyal to me and do not want to see bloodshed within the charter. It makes everyone nervous when someone who is not a president can just murder the president and take control of the club. No one feels safe.”
“Okay…I guess that makes sense.”
“Doing it this way means we have a new president who is still willing to follow the clubs original bylaws. Granted this wasn’t the best way to take over the gavel, but it was one way brothers would accept even if they didn’t like it. It was the smart play Morgan.”
“So you’re really gonna do it. There’s nothing I can say to convince you otherwise…”
“You can certainly try and I have a feeling I won’t be able to stop you either so give it your best shot. It’s just that the way this went down is best for the club and I love my club.”
“Then don’t fucking leave it! Fight for your club. Isn’t it the one thing in life you love? I mean, I know I’m pretty damn incredible but I am enough of a realist to know that the club will always be first.”
“Yeah…sorry about that. Remember, I have only my old man outside the club and, well you’ve already experienced him. My mother is dead and I have no idea where any of my relatives live if I even have any. The club is my family and I am doing best for my family. It’s because I love Iron Disciples that I am willing to walk away from them. Can you at least see that?”
“I can’t see walking away from family for any reason. They’re your blood. You always work it out Cade.”
While we’re sitting here arguing about family and club family and all, I suddenly remember a letter my mother wrote for me when I was16. I wonder if it applies here and if I should share it? I close my eyes for a second and I’m transported back to that day on my 16th birthday. I was sitting at the breakfast table when my aunt gave me two birthday cards; one from her and my uncle, and one from my mom. As close as I was to my mother it’s my dad I miss more. My mother has been in my life and never really left when she died. I have received so many letters from her and I probably will get more. However, when my dad died on my fourteenth birthday, he stopped talking to me.
My Sixteenth Birthday…
My Dearest Morgan,
This is your teenage growing up letter that I probably should have left instructions to be given to you when you are 14 and not 16, but there were other things I needed to say then. So… your finally 16! You’re a young woman now and I know you must be so beautiful and so smart. I truly with I could see you. When I close my eyes I try to envision what you will look like on that special day and I think I can actually see you.
You must be about five feet five inches, slender, curvy, and with long black hair. When you look in the mirror I know a beautiful young woman with clear skin and silky black hair is looking back at you.
But more than that, you are a smart girl! I can see it now and your just twelve years old. By the time you graduate from high school you’ll probably be a genius. It’s hard to be a teenager honey. No matter how smart or beautiful you are, this is going to be one of the most difficult times in your life. You’re learning what it means to be a woman.
I get there are times when you just want to smack your father upside the head and say, “WTF?” Honestly honey, I have had days like that too. I love your father dearly but sometimes… well you know what I mean I’m sure. I’m sure there are days when you just cannot stand your dad; been there done that, and I still love him. You’re going through a time in your life where you probably can’t wait to get out of the house and go to college. You’re probably tired of being told what to do and when to do it. It’s okay honey, there’s nothing wrong with your feelings…any of them. But remember this. While you’re spreading your wings, growing up and pulling away from your family, no one will love you more than your mother and father. You may have children of your own one day and you will understand that you will always love more than they love you; it’s just a fact of life. When you first love your own flesh and blood you will understand just how much daddy and I love you. So go, spread your wings, be your own person, but always remember family. Friends come and go. Boyfriends and girlfriends come and go, and maybe even husbands and wives fall off the wayside and leave but family is for good. Don’t ever forget that Morgan; family is forever.
You are my greatest love Morgan and you always will be.
Mom.
I open my eyes again and Cade is looking at me with a worried look on his handsome face.
“You went away just now. Where did you go?”
I realize I can’t read him that letter. It’s far too personal. But maybe I can share with him some things about family that he seems to be missing.
“I was just remembering my mom.”
“Your mother…why?”
“I was thinking of a letter she wrote to me before she died. It was my happy 16th birthday letter. It was a somber one though.”
“She wasn’t just wishing you happy birthday. I can se
e it in your face. What’s going on?”
“She was reminding me how important family is. Husbands and wives come and go. Best friends come and go, but family is forever; even if it’s Eddie and your father. And the one family that you claim to love…your brothers in the MC, you’re walking away from them too. Who will you have Cade?”
“Well I was hoping to have you.” He replies.
“Don’t start. You know I can’t choose. I spent too long in school and far too long building up my business to just up and walk away from it. I actually love what I do and I’m too old to start from the beginning again.”
“Too old? You’re kidding right? You can’t even be thirty. How can you be too old to start over in another place? And we’re not even talking about a change in career, but just a change in the place where you work.”
“You know nothing of what you’re asking Cade. NYSE rules and regulations require I be affiliated with a bank or brokerage. Outside of California, New York, and a handful of other states I would have to switch companies I work for. If I try to take my clients, because of the amount of clients I have my company would be able to file a lawsuit that would immediately freeze every brokerage account that my clients possess. Now how many of those people would follow me to another firm when every invested penny was frozen for the foreseeable future? Moving now would be career suicide.”
“I can earn for the both of us.” Cade protests.
“You’re kidding right? Do you have any idea how much I paid for the pumps you destroyed running over me?”
“I don’t know for sure…but I’m guessing somewhere around five hundred bucks.”
I laugh. I can’t help it. He still has no clue about my lifestyle. “Try fifteen hundred bucks. And my suits usually are around two grand. Even my bra is forty dollars. Are you prepared to keep me in the lifestyle I am accustomed to?”
“Shit! You are high maintenance!”
“Are you fucking kidding? That’s not high maintenance. I just like nice things and I have worked my ass off to get these things.”
“Okay so there’d be an adjustment period then.”
“Adjustment period, are you kidding me? It’s like going from the princess to the pauper and I ain’t gonna become a fucking pauper. I have to stay here. I understand you have to go into exile, but I can’t follow you there. I’m sorry.”
“That’s… that’s too bad.”
“I don’t even know what we have here.” I begin. “There’s no ring on my finger. We haven’t made promises to each other. Where the fuck do I stand anyway?”
“Are you kidding me? You’re my old lady.”
“But I don’t know what that means. What’s it mean to be an old lady anyway?”
“I’m sorry babe sometimes I forget you are from such a different world. That you’re my old lady, the old lady of the president of the Disciples means a hell of a lot. It’s like being married…to the fucking president of the damn country; almost.”
“I did not hear you say that. Tell me your ego isn’t that fucking inflated!”
“You get the idea. In my world, in the world of this town of 300 thousand people, the president of the Iron Disciples is the fucking king. When I say jump everyone else says how high. And I’m not talking just the average citizen here. I’m talking about cops and politicians too. They mayor doesn’t have the power babe, I do. Well…I did anyway.”
“You’ve been deposed. How does that feel?”
“Pretty fucking shitty actually!”
“So do something about it. Instead of running away with your tail between your legs where your cock and balls should be and fight back. Where is the man who fought his way up through the ranks to be president of the most powerful outlaw biker club in the state? He sure as hell isn’t standing in front of me now. Who the fuck are you and what have you done with my man?”
“Look…I’ve got some thoughts about all this shit-”
“No more thoughts! You need to act now before it’s too fucking late. You got that?”
A sudden change comes over his face. He sits up, squares his shoulders and gets up off the bed. He seems to have decided something. Just what that something is I have no fucking idea. I watch as he gets dressed. I really hope he chooses to keep that tattoo on his back. It’s freaking awesome. It’s the exact replica of the clubs three part patch and it spans his entire back; shoulder to shoulder, from the nape of his neck to his kidneys. I’d hate to look on him from behind and see a huge black spot. He’s a beautiful man. He has muscles where he should have them, but not too much. He obviously spends time with weights but he hasn’t made a career of it. He’s about six foot three I think and he has a long well defined muscular structure and I love it. I find myself licking my lips as he finally pulls on a faded black tee and his characteristic black leather cut. That’s a good sign. It means he plans on keeping it; I think. He leans over and gives me a brief kiss.
“Where you going?” I ask him as he opens the bedroom door.
He turns and looks back over his shoulder. “To find my balls babe…to find my fucking balls!”
Chapter Three
Balls
Seven motorcycles enter the fenced in area of the tow yard and if all goes well, seven will leave there as well. The first three bikes that pull in are sporting the Disciples’ patch on the fat bobbed tanks. Then next two bikes belong to a pair of Outkasts, while the last two riders come in riding on black, non-descript Harleys. The seven bikes make one line facing the yard’s entrance should their riders need a fast exit. The riders get off their bikes, hang helmets on handlebars and cautiously approach each other forming a small circle of sorts. After traditional fist bumps, shakes and pats on the back the men get down to business. Each man believes he controls the agenda and thinks the other five are all in his court. Everyone is in for a surprise today.
Eddie believes his brother has come to set the time for the removal of his club’s patch tattoo that covers his broad back. Eddie’s right hand man, Shooter is here to keep the peace between his club and the Outkasts. Why they’re at the meeting is beyond his comprehension. Evidently his new president doesn’t trust him with sensitive knowledge like this and for him, that’s a fucking problem!
Bloody Ryan, the president of the Outkasts is still feeling the sting of betrayal at the hands of Eddie when he helped him wrest control of his club from his brother. Ryan had thought that the two clubs would combine and they would co-run the united forces. Once the two clubs had united he would use his drug trade to finance the guns he needed to keep a powerful Latin gang from crushing his charter. The Latin Kings have been growing, expanding their borders and pushing up against his club with an increasing regularity. He’d lost good men for the cause that would never come about and he is pissed! Without the alliance of the two clubs, the Outkasts and the Disciples, any truce they come up with now will always be on shaky ground. Only a marriage between the two clubs would really be solid.
Bloody Ryan speaks up first. “Gentlemen…what are we going to do about our little problem? You fucked us over Eddie when you backed out of our agreement. How are you gonna make that right?”
“Sorry bro, but way too many brothers have been at odds with your club for too long. They would have never agreed to give up their patches for a combined club of Outkasts and Disciples. But you helped me gain control of my club from my brother so I am grateful. There must be some compromise we can come to that will prevent unneeded bloodshed and be good for our two businesses.”
“I don’t know man,” Ryan begins. “We need guns and muscle to keep our territory. Latin Kings are pushing hard and right now we can’t push back with enough force to hold what we got. Your move Eddie is gonna doom my club if we don’t come up with something. You gotta know, if we fall to the Kings, your next in line.”
“What are the Kings after?” Eddie asks.
“They want our H distribution channels.” Ryan replies.
“And no doubt they want Disciples guns. They’ll a
lso need to increase their drug business to pay for the guns, just like Ryan here.” Cade says, jumping into the conversation for the first time.
“So we have to stand together against those Mexican motherfuckers!” Eddie declares, clenching his fists. He looks like he’s about to lash out against whoever is the closest.
“I don’t want to go to war against the Kings,” Bloody Ryan begins. “But I can’t be giving up club territory to those fucking wetbacks!”
“You may not have to.” Cade begins.
“How’s that Mr. Ex- President?” Ryan snaps.
“There’s something else the Kings are after. They got their own problems with the Juarez Cartel. It should be obvious to you guys. They’re trying to increase their drug trade same as you Ryan, to finance gun purchases so they can hold their own too. But they’re not buying the guns to use against you two; they need them to hold off the Cartel. That’s it plain and simple.”
“How do you fucking know this?” Eddie asks.
Cade ignores the question and continues on. “They don’t want a war on both fronts, but if they have to they’ll crush you Outkasts to get what they need to fight the Juarez Cartel.”
“Then we have to combine forces to fight back!” Ryan shouts. He is so enraged he can’t begin to stand still. As he paces about his hand keeps straying to the Glock he has stuffed in his waistband. It’s almost as if he wants to just start the killing right now.
“There’s a better way to do this.” Cade says.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Eddie asks.
“What’s going to happen if the Kings fall to the Juarez Cartel? We’re next,” Cade says. “So we give them what they want. We open our drug trade to the Latin Kings and we sell them guns. Not only do our two clubs get money from the drugs but we get it from the guns as well and in greater proportions. Our gun and drug business will triple and that just makes everyone more powerful and able to hold back the Cartel.”