Take the Honey and Run: Sweet & Dirty BBW MC Romance, Book #6 (Sweet&Dirty BBW MC Romance)

by Cathryn Cade

  Or, were Billie and Lesa right, that T had never been serious about Krystelle, especially after she’d stolen from him, and if he ever saw her again, would just demand his money back?

  How was she supposed to know any of this?

  By the time she had collected the rest of her baking ingredients, Manda was in a crappy mood. Thus, she went back and got another bag of chocolate chips. She was gonna need plenty of chocolatey goodness, herself.

  Somehow, she’d forgotten that she didn't want T-Bear for a long-term relationship anyway, thus the woman's catty comment was unimportant.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  * * *

  Fortunately, the rest of Manda's day went much better.

  She got back to the clubhouse , assembled her ingredients and baked T-Bear his chocolate chip cookies. Although, by the time the first batch came out of the oven, she realized she was going to have to guard his share of the treats, possiblywith one of the big butcher knives in a rack by the stove.

  One after another, bikers in Flyer cuts trooped into the kitchen, sniffing the air like hounds, and honing in fast on the cookies cooling on the countertop .

  Some of the guys she’d met, others she'd never seen before.

  Two were nearly identical, pint-size, tow-heads in mini-biker gear with Webb at their heels.

  "Cookies!" the boy in the lead yelled out, his eyes wide. The second gave her a piteous look. "We're hungry!"

  Manda laughed, because they were just so stinkin' cute. "Then I guess you'd better have a cookie. Hi, Webb."

  "Hey, girl," he said. "These are Stick's boys. Dash and Kick. Say thanks, boys."

  They both paused, a cookie in each hand. "Thank you!" one said. "You gots any milk?" the other added.

  "You boys sit," Webb ordered, pointing at the table. "I'll get the milk."

  "And get cookies for yourself," Manda offered, spooning more dough on a pan.

  "Nah, I ain't much for sweets," he said, moving around her to fetch two small, plastic cups from a low cupboard. "Thanks anyway. You better hide some o' them for T, or you'll break his big ol' heart."

  "After the first two pans disappeared in five minutes, I figured that out," she assured him. "The next two pans are bagged, and hidden in a secret location. So tell me, are the boys, um, wearing mini-biker vests?"

  He chuckled as he poured their milk. "Yep. Sara's into leatherwork . Real good at it. She makes cuts, belts, purses, you name it."

  "Cuts?" Manda repeated, wiping her fingers on a paper towel. "What's a cut?"

  Webb lounged into a chair beside the boys, handing them each a paper napkin. "What bikers call our club vests."

  "Oh. And so all the Flyers have the same vest, I've noticed that." Like team jerseys, with their names on the back Although she had a strong suspicion they would not appreciate the comparison. "How long have you had yours?"

  He scratched his head. "Lessee, patched in back in '73, down in Cali. When I come back from Nam."

  Wow, that meant he'd been a Flyer for forty-plus years. That was a long time. She would have asked more questions, but the boys began clamoring to know when their papa was going to be done, so they could go on to their next activity, which seemed to involve something with ponies and a litter of puppies.

  "He'll be done soon," Webb told them. "Then you can go out to your friends' farm. Now wipe your faces, you both got milk 'staches, and they ain't the kind the ladies like."

  Manda smiled to herself as she slid the next two pans of cookie dough in the oven. She disagreed—these two rocked their milk 'staches.

  She was shocked to learn that the tall, uber-scary Stick Vanko was father to these two little cuties. Wonder what had happened to his first wife? Could have been lots of things, divorce to illness. And not her business, anyway.

  But it was surely reassuring to see this side of him, and of his life. Made her feel safer here. These were good guys, family men, just as T had told her.

  T-Bear loved his chocolate chip cookies, which she gave him for dessert after supper. He showed Manda his appreciation in the best way possible, first by eating several of them, and then by picking her up and carrying her into his bedroom, where he ate her out.

  "Mm-hmm," he said with satisfaction when she stopped moaning his name. "Now let go my hair, woman, so I can fuck you. 'Cause all o' this sweetness got me about to cum in my pants."

  Manda opened her eyes and sat up. She was on the edge of his bed, which was king-sized, of course. It had a soft blue comforter, blue sheets which she could see because the bed had not been made nor the pillows straightened.

  She smiled shyly at him as she pulled her shirt down into the vee of her thighs. He chuckled, but the look in his eyes was pure desire.

  He knelt beside the bed, her jeans, panties and shoes tossed somewhere behind him. Turning his head, he wiped his mouth and beard on his sleeve, then hauled his tee over his head and tossed it away as well.

  "You look real sexy like that," he growled. "Can't see nothin' but a sweet tease, but I know what's under there. I like it. Maybe... you could leave the top on, and get up on your knees, your back to me."

  Despite what he'd just been doing to her, and with her, Manda blushed. "You like bare ass, huh?"

  "Hell, yeah. I love bare ass. Wanna see yours, and hang on to it while I fuck you." He made a twirling motion with his hand.

  She rolled her eyes, but turned over, and got onto her knees on the edge of the bed.

  “Mmm, that’s it,” T-Bear groaned. Manda heard the nightstand drawer opening behind her. "Now pull your top up just—yeah, like that. Fuck, that's pretty. That is prime, grade-A, fuckability right there."

  She giggled at his choice of superlatives, but she also felt his words deep inside her, until she was ready for him even though she'd just come on his mouth. She whimpered with need as he stepped in behind her, fitting his big, hard, hot frame to her, his hands sliding up under her top and his cock slapping against her bare ass.

  "That's my honey girl. Now spread those legs, and point that ass back for me, and lemme in there."

  She let him in there, and he took it and more, parting her from the front with two blunt fingers while sliding into her sleek, swollen channel from behind. In this position, she felt every centimeter of him, only in new ways. When he filled one hand with her breast, teasing her through her bra, and cupped her pussy with the other, so every thrust rubbed her clit over his calloused fingers, she went wild.

  T-Bear rewarded every moan, every whimper with longer, harder thrusts up inside her, until the pleasure built around his slick shaft to an unbelievable peak and then burst outward through her body, every part of her suffused with it.

  Her lover gave a muffled roar, his thrusts getting faster and harder until he stiffened in the grasp of his own release.

  With a satisfied groan, he pulled out of her, letting her go so she could crawl across the bed and lie down. He fell into the bed like a toppled tree, and pulled her across his chest. Manda lay there like a living blanket. She was pretty sure that was her lifetime record for hot sex while partially clothed. Since she still wore the tee, and she had him radiating heat underneath her, she was pleasantly warm.

  He drew in a deep breath, his chest lifting like a bellows. "Yeah," he sighed.

  And then he fell asleep.

  Manda roused after several moments from her fog of satiation. She blew a lock of hair out of her face, and then bit back a giggle.

  Her mighty lover lay on his back, one huge arm crooked on the pillow over his head, the other lax on the quilt. His eyes were closed, thick lashes a gingery fringe on his cheeks, and his mouth was open. As she watched, a slight whistle emerged from his parted lips and his mustache fluttered.

  That did it, Manda ducked her head onto his chest and laughed.

  He stirred, then grinned crookedly without opening his eyes. "Whas' funny?"

  "You are. You just... fell right asleep."

  "Y'wore me out." He lifted his hand enough to palm her ass. "Mm-m
m, did I tell you how much I like your ass?'

  "Yes, and you showed me." She moved, stretching under the caress of his big hand. "As much as I like your chest?"

  He opened his eyes a crack. "You like my chest, huh? What else?"

  She smiled, biting her lip. "I like your eyebrows."

  "As much as I like your titties?"

  "Maybe. What else do you like?"

  "Those soft, cushy lips," he said, his gaze on her mouth. “‘Specially now that they’re healed up, so I can kiss you.” When she smiled at this, he grinned back. "Yeah, that's it."

  "What else?"

  He grinned. "Hint; a part that's real close to my dick right now."

  "Euww," she protested, even as that part of her contracted in response. "Don't say dick, that's gross."

  At this, his eyes opened all the way. "What the hell am I s'posed to call it?"

  "Your cock. That's sexy."

  His brows drew together. "So it's only sexy if you call it by one name, not another?"

  She groaned, and hid her face on his chest again, wrinkling her nose as the fine curling hairs there tickled her. "Whatever."

  He sighed. "Bitches... never understand 'em."

  Then he flinched and let out a yell. "Ow! Woman, you pinched my nip. What the hell?"

  Sitting up, she glared down at him. "Don't call me a bitch, that's what. I baked you and your biker brethren cookies."

  "Wasn't calling you a bitch, not only 'cause you bake the best cookies I ever tasted, you also managed to save me some from them assholes, which I appreciate. But," his eyes narrowed dangerously, “if the panties fit..."

  He dug his fingers gently into her bare ribs under her top. Manda let out a shriek, and slapped at his hands, wriggling to get free.

  He rolled her, and in a matter of seconds, she was on her back, with a huge, naked biker holding her down.

  "Yeah," he taunted, holding her wrists together over her head with one hand, and walking his fingers up under her top. "Now whose titties are in danger, huh?"

  "John Turner, don't you dare!" She gasped as he flicked her nipple with a fingertip, a huge grin on his face. "T-Bear!"

  He laughed, that dirty one she liked so much, despite her current worry that he was on the path of revenge.

  Then he leaned down and gave her nipple a loud, smacking kiss, through her shirt. With a hum of approval, he pulled her tee up, her bra down, and licked her bare nipple into his mouth and suckled firmly.

  She relaxed in his grasp, and arched up to him as sensation twined through her. Even though she'd just cum, his suckling mouth heated her right up again.

  He lifted his head, and looked down at her with gleaming eyes. "Be right back. Gotta get rid of the love glove."

  As he walked away, Manda realized she was lying there with her legs open. She snapped to a sitting position, pulled the covers back, crawled under them. When he sauntered out of the bathroom, she sat with her knees up, covers to her waist.

  His face fell. "We done already?"

  "Um.... no. I just... I got cold."

  The slow grin he gave her said he didn't believe a word of this. "Well, then, guess I best warm you back up."

  He evidently decided tickling, bearded kisses were the best way to do this, which in fact did work—really well. She loved it when he moved on to her neck, her breasts, and even her belly, although she dissolved in giggles when his beard tickled the sensitive skin there. Since she had her fingers twined in his hair, he had trouble getting loose, but he managed to move farther down yet...

  And when he stroked her sex, she gasped and jerked upward in his hands. He chuckled. "Think you're warmed up now."

  She was, which he proved by making her cum again with his hand, while he watched.

  He was warmed up too, which she proved by pulling him up into her arms, hooking her ankle around his firm ass, and inviting him inside her again.

  This time started slow. "'Cause we already took the edge off," he said,, braced on his elbows over her and planted deep inside her, both of them enjoying the thrill of her being once again so full of him. "Now we can take our time."

  They did. But it ended fast and hard, because once they got that far, taking their time didn’t really work for either of them.

  Afterward he dropped his forehead beside hers on the pillow and groaned deeply. "Sorry, honey girl. You get yours?"

  "I'm fine," she said, somewhat breathlessly, and shoved at his shoulders. "Could you get—off me, please?"

  He roused at once. "Oh, shit. Sorry. I weigh a fuck-ton, huh."

  Yes, and he was all sweaty too. But since this was not a question, she didn't answer. She did suck in a deep breath the moment he lifted off of her.

  He disposed of condom number two—how she didn't want to know—without getting up, and then reached over, snapped off the light, and settled down with a sigh on his side facing her, a heavy warm hand on her hip.

  "Told you you'd like this bed," he muttered. "Comfy as a cloud."

  He was right. She liked being in it with him even more.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  * * *

  Friday morning, Manda saw Streak at the bar in the main club room, his focus on a laptop computer. Gathering her courage, she asked him if she could use it later, to look for a job. He looked at the time and nodded once. "Have at it. I gotta go pick up Javier."

  "Thanks," she said. "I'll be very careful. What shall I do with it when I'm through, put it in Rocker's room till you get back?"

  "Sure." He gave her the password, gathered up a folder of papers from the bar. "Oh, and the wi-fi's best in the bar here if that's what you want."

  "Okay. Have fun with your little guy."

  He smiled, his gaze softening. "Thanks. I will."

  "I'd love to see some pictures of him. Later, if you have time."

  "Sure thing." He headed off and Manda perched up on a barstool and got busy on the laptop. It was not new, and either it or the wi-fi was very slow at times, but she found several job listings, and brought up her email to send them to herself on her phone.

  Two were in Airway Heights, one at a local coffee shop called the Flying Bean. The town was definitely into the flight motif, although this was hardly surprising with both a city airport and a USAF base nearby. She'd heard planes passing overhead on a regular basis since she'd been here.

  The barista job sounded like something she'd enjoy. The other Heights opening was for a bookkeeper. Shyeah, that one was out.

  She searched on, through lists on all the big job sites she could find, and finally had more than twenty. Most of which sounded sort of awful, but it wasn't like she could afford to be picky. Especially with no references.

  "Hey, blondie," called a rough voice. "You not workin' in the kitchen today? Ain't nothin' to eat around here."

  Startled, Manda looked up from typing in a new search to see one of the bikers, Cooler, standing at the corner of the hallway. His short, bleach blonde hair stood up in messy spikes on his head, and he was scratching his belly through a tee that looked as if it should've been washed at least two wearings ago. The parts of him not covered by hair or clothing were covered in ink.

  "Uh, I'm not, no," she said, searching the main room for anyone else who might be around. "I usually make lunch, but—"

  "Aw, c'mon," he said, rubbing his head. "I'm hungry now. You wanna earn your keep, come and make me up somethin'. Breakfast, lunch, I don't care."

  Earn her keep? Well, she was trying to do everything she could to help out in return for the Flyers' letting her stay here.

  "Sure," she said, sliding off her bar stool. "I can make you something. Uh, so breakfast work for you?"

  "Yeah, and coffee too. Head's killin' me."

  Manda skirted him as widely as she could without making it obvious, but even at a distance, he reeked of stale alcohol, cigarettes, and sweat. Hungover, for certain. She'd witnessed Tim in this shape more than a few times—although Tim at least showered regularly.

  She g
ot out eggs, bread and bacon, and set up to cook the biker a solid breakfast. He shambled into the kitchen and slouched in a chair, head in his hands. "Bring me some coffee soon as it's done."

  "Please," she added, although under her breath. The bacon frying, she started up the surprisingly state-of-the-art coffee maker, adding enough for several cups, as she'd noticed Webb seemed to drink coffee all day.

  This made her think of JJ's auto. What the front office needed was one of those Keurig machines, where a person could make their own single cup. It would be nice for customers while they waited, and the guys could have coffee, or cocoa too.

  If she got a job, maybe by Christmas she could afford to give them a machine, and a couple of boxes of the little pods. She'd noticed the machines weren't expensive. It was the pods that were pricey.

  She served Cooler his cup of coffee, with cream and sugar on the side, and then chopped some cooked potato in the pan, browning that before frying a couple of eggs on the side. A slice of buttered toast added, and it was ready.

  He accepted the plate with a grunt, and held out his empty cup. Wow, this guy made T-Bear, with his somewhat rough manners, look like a gentleman straight out of GQ.

  Then she smiled to herself as she pictured T posing for the cover of the men's fashion magazine, clad in a sharp suit, with his hair slicked back, his beard and mustache trimmed up. Why, he'd be drop-dead gorgeous.

  Lost in this pleasant daydream, she brought Cooler his brimming refill. She was reaching to set it down when his hand contacted the back of her thigh, just under the curve of her ass, his fingers probing deep between her thighs. "Thanks, babe. Maybe after I eat, you can—"

  Anything else he might have said was lost forever, because at this startling, invasive, and frankly disgusting touch, Manda jerked as if she'd been tazed, and let out a shriek.

  Her arm jerked as well, and hot coffee flew through the air, to land on her wrist, and all over Cooler's thigh and crotch.

  "Ow!" he bellowed. "Ow, fuck! You clumsy bitch—ow, fuck, that hurts."