Stud_Motorcycle Club Romance

by ML Nystrom

  My answer was to get a better grip around his middle, resting my hand on his lower stomach and pressing against his back.

  “’Bout time you showed me how a real biker rides! Let’s go!” I answered back.

  “You let me know if it’s too much.” He took off. I felt a jerk but nothing serious enough for me to complain about.

  I really, really needed one of these in my life! Riding bitch to Stud was great, but I so wanted to feel what it was like to ride and control one of these beasts. We took the curves and I felt a pull but no pain in the force. I leaned with Stud into each turn, feeling his body communicate how far to go and when to stop. He was magnificent in his control and command of the bike. I felt tingly all over thinking about what he could do if he had command and control over me. It was hard nixing that thought. Hey, I could still dream a little, right?

  He crested a hill, then pulled over to a scenic outlook. A family with two little boys was also there, taking pictures and letting the kids run around a bit. Stud barely glanced at them as he parked the bike and took off his helmet.

  “Look at the motorcycle!” I heard one boy, maybe around six years old, say to his brother as I dismounted. He pointed at us, his eyes full of wonder at the shiny big toy. The other one, young enough to still be in diapers, just sat in the dirt and poked a grubby finger up his nose. The parents cast a few wary looks in our direction but kept away.

  Stud practically ripped the helmet off and nearly pitched it to the ground before roughly jamming it on the rest designed to hold it. I took mine off and stowed it next to his. He stomped off to the stone fence that was more pretty than protection at the edge of the overlook. The scene was gorgeous! Big clear blue sky over a richly green forest, a few wisps of clouds, clean air, and an eagle soaring high overhead. I wished Stud could see what I saw, but he seemed too into his own head.

  I smiled at the boys and stepped over to Stud, placing a hand on his back and rubbing it absently over his cut and up to his neck. His hair was pulled back in a ponytail and slightly sweaty from the ride, stress, or both. I could feel the tension in his shoulders. I wanted to comfort him somehow, but not knowing what was in his head didn’t help much. I just stood next to and slightly behind him with my hand on his hot neck, hopefully transferring some of my strength to him.

  He turned and faced me, his look intense and unreadable. My hand fell away as I stared into the deep blue of his eyes.

  “Did you sleep with Table?” he ground out, fists at his sides as if trying to control them.

  I blinked in surprise. Of all the things I expected him to say, that wasn’t one of them.

  “What?” I asked, screwing up my nose. Did I really hear him right?

  “Did. You. Sleep. With. Table?” he asked again, his voice rough and firm. He moved a step closer to me.

  Was I or was I not Eva MacAteer? “Of course not, you asshole!” I yelled, punching at his shoulders with both fists. “I’ve never slept with anyone, and it ain’t looking real good for you right now!”

  He stepped back from the force of my angry shove and blinked. “You’re a virgin?”

  Gah! Did I really just shout that bit of personal information out loud?

  “Is that a crime? Think about it, genius! I have five older brothers and a dad who I’m with nearly 24/7. When the hell do you think I’m gonna find the time or place or even a man willing to take all of them on? I’m surprised as fucking hell they’ve not noticed or given me grief about you coming over so much!”

  “They’re not saints, Eva. I’ve seen them around with the club women and others from the town.”

  “Yeah well, chauvinism and double standards are alive and well in my family.” I was boiling mad, at both his insinuations and his own chauvinistic attitude. “Who the fuck do you think you are to judge me and my life? You’re not exactly lily-white yourself!” I went to shove him again. I was seeing red in fiery hues and colors. Stud had other ideas.

  He grabbed me and slammed me hard into his body. His mouth came down on mine, kissing me into silence. His tongue swept inside when I protested. I thought briefly about biting him, as I was still mad, but instead I kissed him back with as much fervor as he kissed me. I felt my breasts tighten and my lady parts sing. He slowed down and softened his touch, tasting and exploring my mouth, sucking at my lower lip, before dipping in again and again. I was one big ball of need. His hands came down and grabbed my ass, lifting me high and grinding against me. I could feel his hardness through our jeans and wished there was nothing between us. This was what I wanted. Him inside me.

  Like a sudden cold shower, I heard a small high-pitched voice yell out, “Mom! Look!”

  Dammit! I had completely forgotten we had an audience. I guess they just got an earful as well as an eyeful. Stud pulled back and rested his forehead against mine. Both of us were breathing hard, still wrapped up in each other. I could hear the sudden slam of the van’s doors as the family quickly departed. It almost made me want to laugh, but with Stud’s hand still on my ass and the other buried in my hair, laughter wasn’t the best idea.

  We stayed that way for a long time, just breathing and feeling. A light wind blew in random puffs around us, whistling quietly and cooling.

  “I’m sorry, Eva. You’re absolutely right. I’m not a saint either and have no right to judge you or your life. I hope you can forgive me. Table is my brother and you’d be hard pressed to find a better man. He would be a great partner, but the thought of you and him together rips into my gut like a knife. I don’t ever want him in your bed. I want me in your bed, and I hope to God you’ll someday find me worthy of it.”

  My brain reeled from his words. What did I do with this? I didn’t have an Eva persona to pull out and deal. No witty comebacks or snarky sentences came to my mind. What I did know was I wanted more kisses. More Stud. Just more.

  “I don’t know what to say,” I breathed. “I’m not with Table. Not then, and obviously not now.”

  “Will you come with me to Raleigh this weekend?” he asked, his voice quiet. “My grandmother is the one person who means something to me in the family there and the only one I still talk to. I’ll be blunt, Eva, in that I don’t give a shit about the others, but she called me and asked me herself to come. I was going to go alone, but I’d rather have you with me. I think I need you with me.”

  What could I say? There was only one answer.

  “Yes.”

  Fourteen

  Plans were quickly made. We would ride Stud’s bike and after the party Stud would drive me to Wilmington to meet up with my family and resume my life. I wasn’t real sure that’s what I wanted, but it was a plan and made sense at the time. Thank God for the club women or else we never would have been able to pull this off with such a short time frame. Molly helped me sew a new dress, while Tambre and Betsey got my stuff packed into shipping boxes. They were sent to the hotel jobsite where Connor had setup, and he would keep my stuff until I got there. The trip to Stud’s family place would only be for one night, so I didn’t have to pack a lot for it. My return to my life was quicker than I expected, and I was really down about leaving the Dragon Runners, but no matter what, I was going to keep my ties with these people who had come to mean so much to me. I would be back at least for Kat and Mute’s wedding.

  We had ridden the bike nearly five hours to get to Stud’s family home. My butt was numb, and I knew I would be a bit sore as I still had some twinges going on in my ribs and leg, but I was tough. I perked up when we rode through a fancy-schmancy neighborhood with big houses. Nope. Not houses. Mansions. Maybe even more like estates. With lots of land around man-made lakes. As a builder, I could appreciate the tall columns and creative architecture, and what kind of army it took to keep those lawns in showplace condition. As Eva, I thought what the fuck have I gotten myself into?

  Stud pulled up to a fancy iron gate and pressed a number code into the security pad at the side. The gates clicked and we rode into a landscaped courtyard. It was painfully over
done. The flowers and shrubs were ranked and sculpted into geometric forms, appearing rigid and under such absolute control they couldn’t grow in any direction or place other than at the desire of the gardener. No unauthorized growth or weed would dare show itself and ruin the perfect lines and color scheme. It looked plastic. I had the urge to pick a flower just to see if some garden gnome would come and arrest me.

  As we cruised the paved circular drive, I could feel the tension start in Stud’s back. He’d stopped talking to me several miles outside of the city and I knew he wasn’t happy. I’d seen so many different Studs. Happy, goofy, flirty, mad, determined, but so far, I’d never seen him dark.

  I turned my attention to the house. Marble steps leading up to an impressive set of elaborately carved oak doors with heavy brass knockers, and they opened on a whisper as we pulled up and a man dressed in formal attire appeared.

  “Master Beauregard, how nice to see you again, sir. We’ve made space in the garage for your—ah—vehicle. Shall I call a chauffeur to take it there?” he stated in a dry monotone voice. Obviously, this guy was the head butler, and just as obviously, he didn’t like either Stud or me at the moment.

  Stud took off the helmet and shook out his long mane, almost in defiance. “No thanks, Jameson. I’ll take it later.” He slipped on his mirrored aviators, perhaps to shield himself from the bright afternoon sun, but more likely to hide his unrest.

  I could feel the butler’s disapproval radiating down his arrogant thin nose. “Very well then. Luncheon is being served in thirty minutes on the small veranda. I’ll show your—ah—lady friend to her room. You, of course, sir, have your same chambers.”

  Hmmm—Stud has chambers and I got a room. I didn’t know how I felt about that.

  Stud dismounted after me and stretched his arms back. Experienced biker or not, it was a long trip. “I can show her, Jameson.”

  “Mrs. Franklin decided to put your—friend—in the green room.” The disdain was unmistakable. I was starting to get pissed. Who the hell did this guy think he was?

  The mirrored glasses jerked up to the pretentious man. “I specifically requested Eva be placed in the blue room near mine.”

  “Mrs. Franklin thought it best otherwise.” The man practically sniffed.

  I could see Stud’s jaw tighten up. Uh-oh! Time to make it real, Eva.

  I took off my helmet and shook out my hair as well. I also reached down and grabbed double handfuls of my ass and began massaging. “Green, blue, purple, orange, or pink, I really don’t give a shit as long as it’s got a rack and a head.” I was fake as hell, but I got a twitch out of Stud’s upper lip. “My ass went numb passing through Burlington, and I could use a change of clothes. Lead the way, J-man!”

  Jameson’s thin eyebrows seemed to disappear into his receding hairline. He stared at me as if he expected my head to start spinning around.

  “Very well. Right this way.” His stiff movements were hilarious.

  I leaned over and whispered in Stud’s ear, “Does Mr. Roboto run on a battery pack or do they plug him in every night?”

  Stud burst into laughter and hugged me close, his whole demeanor relaxed at least for the moment.

  If the butler was bad, lunch with his mother was worse. After we dropped off our packs in our rooms, Jameson led us to a nice covered veranda that overlooked another meticulously sculpted and painfully landscaped lawn. The grass was cut in uniform stripes, the flower beds arranged with colors and plants forced into more unnatural shapes and designs. I supposed it was pretty in a way, but I still found it cold and fake.

  Stud’s mom really rounded that idea out perfectly.

  “Beauregard,” a female voice greeted him.

  I turned and saw an older, female version of Stud walking toward us. Thin and beautiful, she was definitely the Southern queen of her Southern kingdom. She was wearing a pale pink dress that came to just below her knees, low-heeled pumps, full makeup, and pearls. She looked younger than I expected, but since her face didn’t move much I suspected Botox or plastic surgery. Maybe both.

  “Abigail,” Stud returned. Wait? Who calls their mom by her first name?

  The regal woman offered her hand and tilted her head. Stud dutifully gave her a light kiss on her pale white cheek. It was one of the most choreographed moves I’d ever seen. The Jameson robot thing made sense now. Stud’s mom was an alien.

  “You’re looking well. It’s very nice of you to come to your grandmother’s party. I trust your journey was pleasant?” she inquired stiffly.

  “It was fine,” Stud replied. “This is Eva MacAteer.”

  He gestured for me to come forward and meet his alien mom.

  “Nice to meet you, Eva,” she said in a tone that said it was anything but nice.

  We sat down to a white wicker outdoor table with so many twists and scrolls, it was more artwork than functional. There were white china place settings so thin and delicate, I was afraid to touch anything. Ranked next to the plates were way more forks and spoons than I had fingers. At least I knew what do to with the napkin. I looked at Stud who was wearing a stiff face, clearly not happy with this scene.

  “This wasn’t necessary, Abigail,” he said in a low, cold voice. Nope. Stud was not happy.

  “Nonsense, Beauregard. I should always want to put out the best for my oldest son, even though he never deigns to visit me.” I noticed she said nothing about putting out the best for any guest he may bring. “Besides, Danforth and Vanessa will be joining us.”

  I’d way underestimated Stud’s feelings—to say he was simply unhappy was a total mistake. The heat from his rage poured off him in waves.

  “What the fuck makes you think I would ever want them joining us?”

  Abigail’s hand fluttered to her neck. “My word, Beauregard! Your language! Is this what you’ve learned by being with those—people?”

  I wanted to bring out Smartass Eva to help defuse the situation and get Stud laughing again, but she was too busy getting angry herself at the snobbish remark.

  As quick as that, Stud’s mom relaxed her posture and face, and again appeared to be the regal queen of her kingdom.

  “Oh, and here they are now!” She rose and stepped forward to greet a man and a woman who had just walked onto the veranda.

  The man looked like Stud in the face, but that’s where it stopped. His hair was cut, styled, and slicked in place. He wore an expensive-looking gray suit with a matching tie and pocket square. His shoes were tooled leather and looked expensive as well. He had the soft, pale look of a desk jockey.

  The woman was a classic beauty, almost cookie cutter of Abigail. She had long blonde hair artfully done up in a fancy French twist and wore a plain pale yellow dress that fitted her like a glove, showing off a perfect figure. My first impression of her was porcelain doll more than Barbie lookalike, but Barbie still qualified.

  I was still in my travel clothes of old jeans, tank top, and tennis shoes. Pretty big contrast, and I couldn’t say I wasn’t bothered by it, but there wasn’t anything I could do. Besides, Stud was more important and that’s who I was here for.

  “Now that we’re all here, we can begin,” Abigail trilled lightly. “Jameson, we are ready.”

  Mr. Roboto helped Abigail into her seat and moved to seat Vanessa as well. He didn’t look like he was moving in my direction, so I plopped down in the closest chair. Abigail raised her perfectly plucked eyebrows but said nothing. The men seated themselves and I was glad to have Stud next to me. I couldn’t quite call him Beauregard yet, but planned on teasing him later. I hoped I would get at least a half smile out of that.

  Lunch was just as fancy looking as the garden. A waiter appeared in a black and white uniform, carrying a tray of little plates with little cantaloupes. They were cut out at the tops like crowns and filled with chicken salad topped with a circle of chopped celery pieces, red grapes, and chia seed sprinkles. Parsley sprigs and a lemon wedge decorated the edge of the plate. It looked like the fake food that gets set
up by real estate people at one of those open houses, trying to entice people to buy. Too pretty to eat and with the array of forks in front of me, I wasn’t quite sure how!

  No one was moving to start. Danforth was tapping on his phone. Stud had told me the names of his family members and mentioned he had a younger brother, but this guy looked older with bags under his eyes and deep lines around his mouth. He was a lawyer also and had taken a partnership in the family’s law firm. He had nodded in Stud’s direction but neither man had spoken a greeting nor even shaken hands. The only info I got on Vanessa was being Danforth’s wife. Stud clammed up tight after speaking her name.

  Abigail and Vanessa were making small talk about the party, the arrangements, hair appointments, and other such bits. They were pointedly ignoring me. Stud was sitting stiffly, and I watched his hands clench and unclench on his thighs. Definitely time for Smartass Eva. I leaned over to Stud and loudly whispered in his ear, “Papa John’s come out this way? I gotta coupon code we can use.”

  He burst into laughter, head back and mouth open. Mission accomplished. I smiled at him, finally relaxing. He tagged me at the back of my neck, pulled me in, and kissed me lightly.

  “Love you, Cactus,” he said, before grabbing the biggest fork and digging up a massive scoop of the chicken salad.

  All three of his family members visibly froze, first at his loud laugh and then at his words. I managed to cover my reaction to his words by grabbing my biggest fork too and shoveling a big bite into my mouth. Nah. He was just talking, like when you say you love steak or love to go fishing. I glanced up and caught Vanessa staring at me with an unreadable look. Disdain maybe? Regret? Envy? No matter. I was not planning on ever seeing these people again after this weekend. I’d gladly take another sore ass from a long trip to get out of this place come tomorrow morning. Abigail just looked at me like I was a bug that crawled across the table. I forked up more chicken salad. It was actually pretty good.