I laughed as I found the blanket at the end of the bed to pull over us.
He kicked it off, “Too hot.”
“Yes you are.” My body felt gloriously ravaged. This is how it’s supposed to feel with a man, not used like a tool that gets wiped off and set aside for the next time.
“You okay?”
“Wonderful.”
He rolled over and kissed me softly before pulling me into his shoulder where I’ve been sleeping lately. “Get some sleep, tomorrow is going to suck.”
“I love you.” I hugged him wallowing in the stronger connection we’ve just forged.
“I love you.”
The memorial run for the loss of two family members was kept to club members only since we couldn’t publicly announce how or why they died. The news had to report something, so we told them it was a gang we weren’t familiar with that hit our guys when they went through their town.
It wasn’t too far from the truth, except we went after them in a sister city to help another chapter push them out of town. A handful of members from Seattle were there to show their respect.
Not much was said throughout the day, except a bunch of stories surrounding the two guys we’d be burying tomorrow. Salina collected donations from members to help with funeral costs. I collected from anyone who wanted to contribute to a widows and orphans type charity.
Joe kept me very close, closer than usual. I wondered if it was because of last night, or if he just needed me because of the meaning of the run. Maybe it was both. I don’t mind. I saw something a little different in his eyes this morning when he kept his eyes on mine as we started the day like we ended it, but briefly.
By the time we said goodnight to everybody after the party it was past midnight. I found my usual glass of wine while he kicked off his boots.
“What do I wear for the funeral tomorrow?” I asked handing him a beer and sitting next to him.
“Black riding clothes, more conservative I guess.” He took a long drink and sat back. “The last funeral I went to was for a friend in the service. The fucked up part was it was a training accident.”
“I always hate seeing that on the news. Seems like such a waste.”
“It is.”
“I’m tired but not, it’s weird.” I said absently.
“I’ll wear you out as soon as I shake this mood off.” He ran the back of his hand over my cheek.
I caught it and kissed his palm. “Sounds like a plan.”
The funeral wasn’t any better than the memorial service. Having two back to back funerals took up the entire day, which wore me out. Maybe it was the combination of both days, but tonight I’m completely exhausted. I took a shower, dried off, finished my glass of wine and went straight for my pillow. Joe turned on the TV and held me.
It took a couple weeks for the mood of the club to come back around to more of what it used to be before the horrible loss of two members. Stacy easily took over the girls with very little supervision from me, so that was nice.
Salina and I began to focus on the bar to give us all something to look forward to. We spent the next few weeks or so shopping, decorating, ordering booze, and whatever else needed done to open the bar.
Joe’s been keeping me up late most nights as he shows me what fun sex can be with the right man. He’s taken to tickling me so I’ll squirm and laugh like an idiot. I think he likes it when I laugh because he always has sweet kisses and words for me afterwards.
I think it helped pull him out of his funk too. He’s back to being more like he was before the guilt brought his mood down darker than usual. Joe doesn’t do happy, but if you look closely, and know him like I do now, you can tell when he’s content.
Right now I’m fixing dinner in a great mood because we’re opening the bar tomorrow afternoon. He’s reading the newspaper sitting at the kitchen bar.
“Can I ask you something?”
He looked up, “What?”
“Why don’t you ever smile?”
He ran his hand over his beard thinking. “There’s a lot of bad shit in my head. The last time I can remember smiling was before I turned fourteen.”
“Someday I’d like to see you smile.”
“You make me the happiest I’ll ever be Carly. Smiling has nothing to do with how I feel.”
“Maybe not to you. Sometimes you’re hard to read.”
“That’s the military training. I’m the best in my field at extracting information from people. To be that I had to learn to stomach some pretty nasty shit. I look at people differently.” He’s trying to explain.
“How differently?”
“I mentally tear them apart so I know how to get inside their heads. I look for physical weaknesses, as well and psychological. I see lies so easily it’s annoying.” He complained.
“Do you do that with me?”
“Not as easily because I can’t imagine hurting you, but sometimes, yes.” He didn’t like admitting that.
“I probably have a lot of weaknesses.” I laughed satisfied with his answer and not wanting to push it.
“You’re pretty strong for a young woman. I saw that in Slider’s letters and in your eyes. You see yourself as weak, even plain. You’re anything but. Your bravery and lack of vanity are what drew me to you. When you kicked that guys ass that night you discovered Michelle, it was everything I could do not to praise you for it.”
I slid him some curry chicken on a plate. “Why didn’t you?”
“I don’t want you picking fights without me there to back you up. If anything happens to you I’ll lose it in a way I can’t imagine.”
“I know the feeling. Every time you ride out on a job I turn into a distracted idiot.”
“Aren’t you going to eat?” He’s always on me about not eating enough.
“I had a few pieces while I cooked.”
“You should sit down and eat more.” He scolded me.
“It’s an old habit. I used to love cooking for the guys in the mornings before work. I’d always eat while I made stuff so I could make sure it didn’t suck. Although I think they would have eaten dog food if I put it in front of them.” I laughed.
“Probably, but you’re a good cook.”
“Thanks. You’re pretty easy to cook for.” Joe eats everything I put in front of him. I wondered how he kept in such great shape until I walked in the garage one day and discovered their fight ring. Evidently they keep their fighting skills sharp by sparring with each other. I wouldn’t really call it sparring, more like beating each up until one bows out or they get dragged apart.
“The guys have been talking about the bar. They can’t wait.”
“I hope so. It’s been fun putting something together that’s both me and Salina. The prospects are a huge help. Thanks for the money by the way. I tried not to spend too much.”
“You’re fine.” He slid the plate back to me standing up to get another beer. “I need to talk to you about something so I don’t freak you out.”
“Oh yeah?” This should be good.
“Come here.” He always does this. I don’t know if it’s a control thing by always making me go to him, or if it’s something he just does without thinking about it. I’m like four steps away, so I just went to him.
I looked up, “What?”
He started on my belt, “I don’t have an ounce of shyness in me. There’s been a few times where I’ve wanted you and didn’t care who was around to see. It’s getting worse now that you can handle me better.” He’s not small, and his intensity has picked up as we’ve gotten to know each other better in our bed.
“Are you trying to tell me you’re going to have your way with me anywhere you want?” I untucked his shirt.
“It could come to that, yes. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but the guys around the club are used to it.”
It took me a few days to adjust to seeing one of the girls happily satisfy one of the guys right there in the garage. I’ve seen plenty of afternoon delights by no
w.
“So I’ve noticed. If you’re going to do that, just try to keep it at the club and not in some public place where we could get arrested.” I lifted his shirt up enough that he took the hint and pulled it the rest of the way off.
“I’ll keep that in mind. How are you with a pair of scissors?” He changed the subject as I traced my favorite tattoo.
I looked back up at his eyes, “Okay, why?”
“I need a trim.” He grabbed his beard.
I laughed, “Yes, you do.”
“So you’ll fix it?”
“I’ll do my best. Just tell me how you want it.”
“Right now I want you up against the wall in the shower.” He scooped me up like a bride and carried me to the bathroom. He’s so strong it always seems effortless on his part. I doubt he’d drop me, but I always wrap my arms around his neck. Maybe it’s just an excuse to kiss it.
He took me like he wanted, giving me a new and fun experience, until the hot water ran out.
I screamed like a little bitch, “Turn it off!”
Joe has a warped sense of humor despite the lack of smiling. He let me go, adjusted the nozzle so it was aimed right at me and fled while I froze to death trying to turn off the water.
“Dammit Joe!! You’re going to pay for that shit!!” I threatened grabbing my towel and wrapping up to warm myself. “Jerk!!”
He’s already in the bedroom out of reach or I’d have smacked him hard on the ass. The man is not right. The other day I was in the kitchen at home trying to make some snacks for the guys in the garage for the next day so I slid him a bowl of blueberries that were in season to snack on while I worked. He proceeded to bounce them off my head until he discovered he could shoot them right down the front of my shirt. I spent half an hour fishing blueberries from my cleavage.
I found him in the kitchen with a chair. “Do it in here so you don’t get hair on the carpet.”
“Good idea. How do you want it to look?”
“Trim the beard back to a goatee and get the dry ends in my hair.” He sat right away starting with the wandering hands.
I swatted them away. He was trying to see what my underwear looked like under my shorts. “Quit, or I’m going to mess up.”
“I can’t help it. I’ve spent months in foreign prisons being tortured for top secrets and never caved. If they knew all it would take is you out of reach, I’d have been dead years ago.” He took two handfuls and pushed the girls up and together.
I swatted him away again, “Dammit Joe! Quit!” I laughed because he sat on his hands. “You’re a nut. I can’t believe you were in a foreign prison.”
He leaned his head back when I lifted his chin to comb and figure out where to shave. “Shit happens.”
“I hate to think of you being hurt.”
“It wasn’t fun.” He closed his eyes.
“Sorry baby. What kind of stuff did you do in the Navy?” I trimmed the area where I wanted to shave.
“A bunch of shit. Have you done this before?”
“Yeah. I had uncles.”
“Had?”
“I don’t talk to, or about, my family.” I told him getting off his lap to get the razor, shaving cream, and bowl of warm water.
“You do with me. Tell me what happened.” He demanded.
“It was just a nasty situation. It’s not important.”
“Where’s your family?” He asked as I started shaving.
“Don’t know, don’t care.”
“What did they do to you?” He’s not giving up.
I sighed trying to find a way to word this as simply as possible. “When I turned thirteen one of my uncles developed a crack addiction he didn’t have the money to support. He sold me and my sister for the money. Three years later I found out he’d gone back and killed my parents to cover it up. I never found my sister.”
He opened his eyes and took my wrist as he lifted his head to look at me, “Are you serious?”
“I wouldn’t make that up Joe.” I hate thinking about the three most horrible years of my life.
“What happened to you when you were sold? Who bought you?”
“Some scumbag pervert. He made me wear sexy clothes and dance for other perverts who paid him for the show. There were four of us. We finally got together and killed him before burning down his house and running. I lost touch with them right afterwards because we went our separate ways.” I swallowed. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”
He pulled me in for a sweet kiss. “Okay baby. I’ll drop it for now. You okay?”
I stepped back for the whiskey and stole a shot straight from the bottle. “Yeah.” I put my hand on his face to lean him back, “Talk about something else.”
He kissed my palm no longer needing to sit on his hands. “Are you going to marry me legally?”
“Probably.” I teased liking his quick change in direction.
“Probably? Just probably? I guess I’ll have to put the ring I got you in the safe until you can give me a better answer than that.”
“You didn’t get any ring.” I took a warm wet towel and rinsed the sides of his face where I’d shaved.
“I did, but I won’t give it to a woman who ‘probably’ wants to marry me.”
I pinched his nose pulling his head back upright to trim the goatee. “I can’t picture you in a suit saying vows.” I laughed.
“Only for you.” He’s watching me.
I stepped back to check my work. “That’s better.” I walked around to his back and combed his hair out. “How short do you want this?”
“Take a couple inches off. Why are you avoiding the question?”
“Because you’re just being silly trying to take my mind off the last conversation.” I accused him.
“You’re wrong.”
“I’ll believe you when I see this mystery ring.” I laughed still trimming.
“Go get my cut.”
I stopped, “What?”
“You heard me, go get my cut.” He ordered.
“Hang on.” I finished trimming and fluffed his hair to make sure it fell right. I found his leather vest and handed it to him a minute later.
He reached in an inside pocket and tossed me a box. “You have to say yes before you put it on.”
I looked at him without opening the box. “I don’t need this, if you’re really serious, I’ll marry you. I thought you were kidding.”
“Open the box.” He nodded feeling his face.
I looked down and flipped the lid open. “Holy shit.” It looks like a five or six karat princess cut ruby surrounded by little diamonds. “Wow, it’s beautiful.”
“Come here.” He took my left hand and the box looking at me. “Are you going to marry me?”
“Yes.”
He pulled the ring out and slid it on my finger. “Good. Make the arrangements when you’re ready.”
I climbed on his lap straddling him and putting my hands on his shoulders and finding his eyes. “I love you.”
“I love you.” He kissed me as he stood and carried me off to bed.
8
Salina drooled over my ring the next day. “Show that to Slider, the cheap bastard.” She joked.
I laughed. “Great, get Joe in trouble.”
“That’s what he gets for showing off.” She complained turning the register on.
With Joe’s money and Slider’s influence we were able to skirt a lot of the red tape needed to legally open a bar. We have orders placed with booze vendors, but to open as soon as possible we just went out and bought a bunch of booze and stuff you need to run a bar.
I turned the neon Open sign on while she propped the door open. It’s almost Christmas so the weather is perfect.
A good handful of the guys were out on another job so our first customers were mostly prospects and the members that typically hang out to protect the grounds when the guys go out.
It felt good to do something I’m familiar with, and good at. I don’t have to wear
sexy clothes for tips anymore, which is nice since I have to wear jeans everyday with Joe insisting I ride with him as much as possible.
The guys finally came back around midnight. I was chomping at the bit because I’d been worried something had gone wrong since six. I tried calling Joe a few times but got no answer.
They waltzed in happy and ready to party. I walked over to Joe and looked up seeing glitter in his hair and beard, and some on his cut.
“Where were you?”
“Out.”
“Out where?” I sniffed him and smelled cheap perfume. “You shit.”
He grabbed my arm and pulled me aside, “It was just a strip joint, no big deal. Gunner insisted on paying girls to dance around me to congratulate me on making you my old lady.”
I jerked my arm free. “Don’t touch me. You stink.” I walked away before I made the mistake of smacking him.
He went and sat down with the guys. I waited on everyone but him. He didn’t seem to notice because Salina set pitchers on the table so he didn’t have to ask. Smart girl. If he calls me over I’m likely to dump that pitcher of beer in his lap.
Around two-thirty things were still going fairly strong. I sent Salina to take a break so I could take one when she was done. I grabbed a joint and went outside to sit on a picnic table. This is exactly why I never wanted to get mixed up with a biker. Strip clubs. What’s next? The appreciative President who takes insult when Joe doesn’t fuck his best girl?
This line of thinking is exactly what Salina told me to avoid. I couldn’t. I expected better from Joe. The let down was heart-breaking.
I looked up when he started towards me across the parking lot. “Bad timing asshole.” I grumbled to myself.
He stopped in front of me and lifted my chin, “Stop this. It wasn’t my idea.”
I pushed his hand away. “I said don’t touch me.” I took the last hit from my joint, flicked it away, and stood up to go back inside.
“Carly!” His booming voice made me jump.
I stopped still facing the bar refusing to look at him. “What?”
“Get back here, I’m talking to you.” There he goes, barking orders as usual.
“Well I’m not talking to you until you get that goddamned glitter and stench off of you.” I started walking but got caught by my large angry old man.
Down & Dirty Page 9
