Bud (Rolling Thunder Motorcycle Club Book 10)

by Candace Blevins

  Nickie stilled and considered his strategy.

  “You’re an asshole.”

  “Never said I’m not.”

  “Another hour, but you even up my breasts and I get orgasms.”

  He crossed his arms over his muscled chest and Nickie’s eyes trailed down his abs to his rock hard cock, still standing proud. And those fine, fine, legs. Everything wrapped in muscles, like a work of art. Damn, did he have to look like some ancient God while he was being an ass?

  “Since when do you make demands?”

  Her gaze went back up his body until it met his beautiful green eyes. He wasn’t joking around. This was his “my way or the highway” look, and negotiating might send her backwards instead of closer to her goal.

  She sighed. “Another hour, and I know you’ll make it good.”

  “Another month.”

  “What?! No!”

  He leaned against the wall, crossed his arms, and looked at her without saying a word.

  Damn, but she hated being off balanced. Her right boob burned and throbbed and her left was fine. Fuck.

  “Another day. No demands.”

  Still nothing. He just looked at her.

  “However much time is left on the cabin.”

  “Two months.”

  “No! You’re going the wrong way!” Fuck.

  “It isn’t a negotiation. Two months. I get sex when I want it, but I won’t bother you while you work. We spend nights together when we’re both in town and not working. It’s been intense at the cabin, but you know I’m reasonable with it when we’re home.”

  The truth was, she’d have likely agreed to something close to it even without him leaving her unbalanced and wanting at the end of their bet. He hadn’t needed to do this, though she understood him well enough by now to get why he had. She took a breath and tried to sound reasonable. She wanted him to realize this was Nickie talking, not the brat.

  “Hear me out before you try to extend it again. I’ll agree to it for another week, with the understanding we’ll come to a permanent agreement at the end of the week. We need to discuss this as equals to make it the new status quo. I’ll fight it if you do it through blackmail.”

  “What would you have different in a permanent agreement?”

  “I don’t know off the top of my head when I’m unbalanced and horny as fuck!”

  Bud chuckled. “One month, and if something doesn’t work for you we’ll discuss it before the month’s up. We’ll make adjustments as needed throughout the month, so we can make it permanent when it’s over.”

  “Agreed.”

  “Back in position then, so I can even you out.”

  34

  “No one acted on the decoy we sent to your house in Pennsylvania. It’s been two weeks since we chopped the head off the trafficking ring, so if you’re comfortable with it, I’ll pull your detail,” said Aaron, “but with your agreement, I’d like to keep the electronic trackers in your wallet and shoes, and the Drake Security app on your phone so we can track you. No one will physically watch, but if the software tracks activity that deviates from normal activity, it’ll alert a human to take a look.”

  “I think it’s a good idea,” said Bud. “I’ll have our control room watching her phone as well, but it can’t hurt to double up for a while.”

  “Whatever ya’ll think,” Nickie answered. “I’ll be retrieving the rest of my shoes from home soon, so you’ll need a whole lot more trackers. Speaking of which, is your plane available to take me to Pennsylvania in the coming week?”

  “Should be. Call the office and set it up. I have another pilot I’ve been using when I need two planes. Hang on and I’ll send you her info.” He fiddled with his phone, Nickie’s went off with the sound for a text, and she thanked him.

  “No problem. She doesn’t offer security services when she flies you, so she’s a little less expensive than me. Damned fine pilot.”

  “I’ll try to give you as much lead as I can the next time I’ll need Tyler. As always, it’s been great working with you. Send an invoice to get us up to date on what you’ve done, and a quote for what it’ll be going forward, for you to monitor the stuff already in place.”

  “You’re a good customer. No charge for letting the software monitor you. Shoot me an email when you have your other shoes here, and I’ll send whoever’s in the area to get them set up. Other than the fee for installing the extra trackers, you’ll only be charged if we need to take action, and it’ll be the standard fees.”

  The pilot Aaron had recommended was available a few days later, and Nickie had liked her from the start. Her name was Heather, and she set the plane down at the Doylestown Airport so gently Nickie barely felt it.

  Nickie had someone local who got her house ready for her when she returned from a long trip. They pulled the covers off the furniture, stocked her refrigerator, aired the house out, and just generally made it feel welcoming. A pan of lasagna and a sheet of garlic bread were in the fridge, so she’d only need to stick them in the oven for dinner.

  “I expected something bigger,” Bud said as they walked from the living room to her bedroom to stow his overnight bag. “This is beautiful, but I imagined you in a mansion.”

  “You didn’t research me? I figured you already knew all about me.”

  “Shadow did the research and told me what I needed to know. I wanted the rest to be a surprise. It was a balance between protecting the club and not invading your privacy.”

  She stared at him a few seconds, once again flabbergasted. The wolf was loyal to a fault. Honest with those he respected. Bud had the same mindset, and it meant she never had to worry about him lying to her. Unless it was to protect his club.

  That voice in her head reminded her Bud still had secrets, but she’d come to terms with it. He was a good man, and whatever his secrets, she no longer felt the need to know them. He was hers, she was his, and she’d stand by him from now on.

  As for why she didn’t live in a mansion, she explained, “I’m not here that much. It has all I need — office, master bedroom suite, a spare bedroom, kitchen, den, huge screened in porch. If I feel the need to entertain I’m usually in New York or another big city, and I rent a condo or a huge hotel suite. This is my place. It’s safe. It’s me.” She looked around and then met his clear green eyes that’d become another safe place. “It’s home. Or, it was. I’ve moved a lot and I’m used to it. I look forward to creating a new home in the South.”

  “Take away the huge office suite and your condo’s bigger. I love the space, I’m just pleasantly surprised.”

  “The office suite is important. My last house had a mother-in-law apartment on the property and I used it for my office, but I prefer this set up so I can have a single kitchen — and so I don’t have to get wet to go to work when it’s raining.” She looked at her phone. “The movers will be here at nine in the morning. Let’s get the oven turned on for the lasagna and then you may as well make yourself useful boxing shit up. There should be boxes, tape, and other packing supplies in the garage.”

  Nickie had to admit she was glad Bud had insisted on coming. Two people working together made it so much easier. She went through each room and boxed the items she wanted to take to Atlanta, and Bud boxed everything else up to go into storage. Also, he’d drive them back to Atlanta with everything she needed for now — much less of a hassle than dealing with long-distance movers.

  She’d had her assistant sell her Cayenne when she realized she wasn’t going to need all-wheel drive to get around in the snow anymore. She’d find something smaller and cuter once she got settled into Atlanta, and she’d buy a motorcycle to get around until she figured out what car she wanted.

  As she packed, she started worrying whether the small moving truck would be big enough. Bud assured her it would, but she eyed her boxes with her clothes and linens, a few cartons of knick-knacks, everything from her office including the furniture, and some select small appliances from her kitchen. The condo was fu
rnished, but there was enough room in the huge living room to turn a corner of it into an office so she could have her desk and chair, and she looked forward to having a view of the city while she worked.

  The movers carried all her furniture — and things she’d need when she bought a house — to a local storage unit, and loaded everything going to her condo into the moving truck. She made hotel reservations near the Virginia / North Carolina line, to split their drive up into two days of seven hours of travel time, and they were off the next morning.

  Conversation while traveling goes all over the place. Hours and hours in the cab of a rental truck, and Nickie heard about things that happened to Bud in kindergarten way back in the sixties. He also told her more about Wendy — how they met, how he proposed. He wasn’t comfortable telling her at first, but she assured him it was an important part of his life and she wanted to know. Nickie felt certain talking about it while he drove made it easier, without eye contact.

  She’d needed to understand his relationship with Wendy, and how they’d managed her screaming in pain once they became parents and had a child living down the hall. She finally felt comfortable asking, and Bud gave her more of an answer than she expected.

  “Wendy wasn’t a masochist the way you define it. She enjoyed light hand spankings when we were cutting up and having fun, but mostly she just wanted rough sex, wanted to be kept sore all the time and fucked anyway. She wanted to be dominated and used. I punished her when she needed it, and she had her ass beat with my belt at least once a week at first, and more than once a day a few times. Once she learned the rules and how to follow them, it didn’t happen often. Also, she was nineteen when we married, so she grew up and gained some maturity — made better decisions. During the last three or four years we were together, I didn’t need to punish her a single time.”

  “How did you feed your inner sadist?”

  “Even before I was president, the club made me responsible for discipline. A sweetbutt doesn’t follow the rules, she gets the belt. Wendy loved watching me punish them. I’d turn their ass red and then take her into another room and fuck her senseless. She loved knowing I got horny hurting them but would spend myself on her when I finished.”

  “I’m not possessive and I don’t have a problem with you continuing that as long as you’re honest with me and let me know, but I have a little request.”

  He’d lifted his brows while watching the road, and she’d asked, “Can you not use your belt? The one you use on me?”

  He’d been quiet a good thirty seconds before he said, “I’ll make a leather strap and hang it in the clubhouse. It’ll always be there — not for just me to use, but any of the brothers. We’ll make it a big deal.”

  She thanked him, and he’d asked how old she was when she lost her virginity, and how she discovered a fondness for being spanked. He probed pretty deeply about why she liked to dominate some men and be dominated by others, and she’d finally said, “I don’t know. Why is red my favorite color and orange my least favorite? Why do I prefer the mountains when I want to center and prepare for something, but need the beach to heal afterwards? It’s just the way I’m wired.”

  Another question she’d had, but had been loath to bring up. “You’ve never punished me. I mean, I’ve had consequences plenty of times, but I’ve never felt as if it was a punishment. You know, something I make you do because I disappointed you.”

  “Because you haven’t disappointed me. You make good decisions. For the record, when I held your legs up and beat your ass and thighs with the extension cord at the cabin? That’s probably the intensity you’ll get for a punishment, though it’ll last longer. Out of control and at my mercy, no way to escape, with strikes you can’t handle coming fast and hard until you’re sure you’ll pass out from the pain. I’ll stop before you actually pass out, but I may take you right to the edge, depending on the reason for the punishment. I’m not saying it’ll never happen, just saying I can’t see you giving me a reason to do it. It isn’t our dynamic, and you’re a grown woman who makes good decisions.” He’d glanced at her before looking back to the road. “It’s one of the things we’ll have to agree to in a permanent arrangement, because punishments won’t come with a safeword.”

  Nickie’s clit pulsed along with her heart, but she ignored it and considered what Bud was asking. It was a big ask. Huge. And yet, she trusted him. However, she’d never forgive him if he punished her when she didn’t feel she deserved it. “I’ll only agree to it under the condition we talk it out, I understand why I’m being punished, and I agree I was in the wrong and deserve it.”

  “Goes without saying. Punishments are serious with me. There’s always gonna be talking — before and after.”

  Nickie had arranged for movers to meet them at the condo to transport boxes and furniture upstairs because she thought Bud had done enough. Unfortunately, he’d arranged for a dozen of his MC brothers and a few ol’ladies to meet them there to move everything. Awkward.

  She quickly understood that sending his brothers home would be rude, so Nickie quietly paid the movers their two-hour minimum and thanked them for their promptness. It was another reminder she needed to let Bud in on her plans. She was so used to handling things as they came up without an ear to bounce things off of, it was going to take some getting used to. It was important, though, so she’d have to figure it out.

  Within an hour, all her things were in the correct rooms and her closet was perfectly organized, and the women who helped with her closet seemed to understand her system without her having to explain. She came downstairs to discover one of the men had unpacked the small kitchen appliances and settled them near outlets where she’d planned for them in her head, and Shadow had set her computer system up on her desk with her five monitors all around her — exactly as they’d been before.

  “How did you know how to set it up?” she asked Shadow.

  “Bud sent us pictures of how it was. That’s how Texas decided where to put stuff in the kitchen, too.”

  Nickie turned to Bud, unsure of what to say. Once again, his green eyes — wild, untamed, and yet calm and steadfast — had her heart melting in her chest.

  “You’re mine, and that means you’re ours. You’re family. Get used to it.”

  Speechless, overwhelmed with emotion, she slid into his arms, her cheek against his heart. “No one’s ever taken care of me like this before. I mean, I had sla… people, in my life who knew what I wanted and made stuff happen without needing to be told after they’d been with me a while, but this is different. You take care of me. I like it.”

  “Good, because we like taking care of you.”

  “We. You and…”

  She hesitated before adding ‘and your wolf’ onto the sentence. She knew everyone in the RTMC was a shapeshifter, but not all the ol’ladies were, and she’d been told a few didn’t know.

  Apparently, all the ol’ladies present knew, because Bud finished the sentence for her. “Yeah. Me and the wolf.”

  She wanted to tell him she loved him, but not with an audience. She leaned into him a little more, kissed his chest over his shirt, and gently pushed away. He let her go, and she pulled herself together and took stock of where they were and what needed to happen next. “I’ll order pizza for everyone. If you want to send someone out for beer, I’ll give them the cash to pay for it.”

  “You handle the pizza and I’ll handle the beer. We’re a couple. We handle shit together.”

  35

  Bud left the B&B and headed to their main laundromat. He physically checked in with all their properties at least once a month, and it sometimes took him two full days to make the rounds. Texas and one of their newer members were manning the laundromat’s office, with Texas showing Slash how to run things. Slash was a bobcat and had this habit of producing a single claw to cut shit instead of reaching for his knife.

  Bud had been there perhaps twenty minutes, looking over the laundry equipment as well as the electronics and furniture,
when Slash said, “My ol’lady says Nickie might’ve found a house in Buckhead. Even with the family discount, it’ll be a serious paycheck for us if she closes on it. She’s still looking though, not ready to put an offer on it yet.”

  Bud froze a few seconds before asking, “They’re looking today?”

  “You didn’t know?”

  Bud hadn’t known Nickie had contacted a Realtor, much less that she was looking already, but he minimized it by saying, “Didn’t know she had plans for the day.”

  He’d been relieved when he saw Nickie’s house in Pennsylvania. He’d worried for so long about moving Nickie into his house, or finding a different one that could be their home. As rich as she was, how would he ever afford something up to her standards?

  When he’d seen her house, he’d relaxed. His place was bigger. Even if she wanted to find something else, he’d easily be able to afford the kind of house she’d want.

  However, if she was looking in the Buckhead area, she was looking at mansions. Fuck.

  Bud finished up at the laundromat and called their control room once he was out on the sidewalk.

  “Where’s my ol’lady?”

  The address was in Druid Hills — where the mansions were just as big as Buckhead. Fifteen minutes later, Bud parked his bike in the driveway of a home big enough to be a small luxury hotel. He recognized Slash’s ol’lady’s Lexus. How had Nickie known who to use? The answer came to him as soon as he thought it. Gen. It seemed Nickie was officially plugged into the ol’lady network.

  The front door was unlocked and Nickie’s scent still lingered, so he walked in and said, “Honey, I’m home.”

  Footsteps sounded overhead and a few moments later Nickie came down the beautiful curved marble staircase. “Bud! I thought you had a full day. What are you doing here?”

  “You didn’t think I needed to know you were looking at houses?”