“Don’t need anyone creepin’ up on us for a few.”
He crossed his massive arms and lowered his chin. “You got it, Brother.”
Brad looked down at me. “Right here?”
We were standing between his motorcycle and Crip’s motorcycle. In each direction, there were motorcycles parked for as far as I could see. If we tipped one of them over, they would undoubtedly topple into each other, and domino until the last one was overturned.
“Yeah,” I said. “Right here.”
I motioned toward his crotch. “Get it out.”
He tried to hide his excitement, but couldn’t. “Where do you want me?”
I glanced around. And idea came to mind, but I was hesitant to mention it. He must have seen the mischievous grin I was trying to conceal.
He arched an eyebrow. “What?”
“Can you sit on Crip’s bike?”
He spit out a laugh. “You want me to sit on his bike while you suck my cock?”
It made my pussy even wetter just thinking about it. I shrugged. “They don’t like me anyway. So, yeah.”
He turned to the side, unzipped his pants, and lowered himself onto the seat of Crip’s ratty-looking motorcycle.
I spread my legs wide, bent at the waist, and took his cock from his hand.
For me, living life wasn’t about going to spectacular places or having material objects. It was about making memories of your own.
And this would be one we’d both talk about for some time.
I took the tip into my mouth.
I moved my mouth up and down the shaft slowly, watching him while I did so. After a few seconds, his eyes fell closed.
His massive girth had my jaw stretched to its limit. His length was far more than I could swallow, and taking half of it into my mouth was quite an accomplishment.
I worked my mouth-magic nonetheless, seeing my accomplishments plastered over his contorted face and arched back.
I shifted my eyes along the row of motorcycles.
Twenty feet away, the man guarding the motorcycles stared straight ahead, seemingly unaffected by what we were doing. In the distance, people rode past, parked, and talked, but no one noticed us.
Stroking him with one hand, and playing with his balls with the other, I continued to suck him eagerly.
His hips began to rise and fall in tune with the motion of my mouth. His breathing became irregular.
Knowing he was close sent me into a sucking frenzy. Now all but attacking his massive dick with my wet mouth, I sucked it forcefully, hoping to bring him to a satisfying climax.
He began to moan.
I moved my hand from his balls to his thigh, gripping it firmly in my hand.
I pressed the tip deep into my throat repeatedly. His moaning became louder, and his breathing choppy.
And then, he erupted into my throat.
Warm spurts, one after the other, a reminder of my ability to satisfy him happily, anytime and anywhere.
“Oh my God,” he said under his breath. “That was amazing.”
I lifted my head, swallowed, and met his gaze. “Thank you.”
He looked at me as if I had three heads. “For what?”
I stood up straight and grinned. “Making memories with me.”
The smell of exhaust, gasoline, and barbequed meat lingered in the air. I would forever associate those smells with giving Brad a blowjob on Crip’s motorcycle.
He stood, pushed his cock into his jeans, and zipped them up. “You’re crazy.”
“Crazy bad or crazy good?” I asked.
“Crazy perfection.” He leaned over and gave me a kiss.
He tilted his head back. “Cholo!”
“What is it, Peeb?” The motorcycle guard barked.
“Appreciate ya,” Brad shouted.
“Fuckers forever,” he responded.
“Forever Fuckers,” Brad said with a laugh.
“Hungry?” he asked.
“Starving,” I responded.
We meandered through the motorcycles side by side, laughing about Bradley’s Sunday dinner set-up, the day we met, and the ridiculous midnight sex rule.
When we got to the food tent, he motioned to a picnic table that was sparsely occupied. “Have a seat,” he said. “What do you want?”
“Anything, really,” I said. “I like any kind of barbeque.”
“Drink?”
“Water, tea, anything.”
“Be right back,” he said with a nod.
I sat at the end of the table, recognizing the few people who were seated there from the morning meeting in the parking lot. After exchanging a few glances with them, the faint sound of my phone ringing got my attention.
Embarrassed, but quite curious as to who might be calling, I pulled it from my pocket. Only a handful of people had my number, and although the telephone number was local, I didn’t recognize it.
With slight reluctance, I answered it. “Hello.”
“Tegan?”
“Yes, this is Tegan. How can I help you?”
“Tegan, hun. This is Deann. I tried to call Brad, but he didn’t answer. Are you together?”
She seemed well-composed, so I was sure everything was okay.
“We’re in Palm Springs. Yes, he’s with me. Do you want me to have him call you?”
“Hun, we need you to come home. It’s Bradley, he’s…” Her voice became soft and fragile. She cleared her throat. “they just took him away in an ambulance.”
I felt sick. I broke into a cold sweat.
My lip quivered uncontrollably. The inevitable was happening.
“Hun?”
“I’m here,” I murmured. “Is he. Is he...okay?”
“I don’t know, sweetie. I’m leaving now. They’re taking him to Scripps Mercy. It was a heart attack.”
“We’ll be there as soon as we can,” I sobbed.
“Okay. Thank you, hun.”
I hung up, jumped to my feet, and took off in a dead run toward the front of the tent.
Frantically, I searched the line for Brad and saw no one I recognized. My eyes darted from one side to the other and back. Again, nothing.
I began to sob at the thought of not reacting quick enough. Not knowing where to find Brad, and of Bradley not making it. His heart was weak, and I knew it.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Crip.
He was standing with some men I didn’t recognize, and he was laughing.
I ran to his side. Tears were streaming down my cheeks. Embarrassed, I wiped them on my biceps. He glanced over his shoulder, noticed me, and went right back to talking.
I tapped him on the arm.
“Just a minute.”
I cleared my throat. “I don’t have a minute. Pee Bee’s father had a heart attack. He’s at Scripps Mercy. His mother just called.” I paused, swallowed hard, and gulped a breath. “And, I can’t find him.”
“Bamma, Blake,” he said to the two men he was talking to. “Keep an eye on her. Don’t let her move an inch.”
“Got it Crip,” the bigger of the two said.
I felt incapable. Weak. Small. I was surrounded by men I didn’t know, and the one man I had allowed myself to love was in the hospital.
“Your Old Man’s Pop’s in the hospital, huh?” Bamma asked.
I fought not to burst into tears, and nodded.
“Who’s your Old Man?”
He was as big as Brad, but looked much meaner. Covered in shitty tattoos, and wearing a foot-long beard, he looked like an old-school biker. I noticed his kutte had the letters AFFA on the front, and wondered what it meant. I swallowed heavily. “Pee Bee.”
“Pee Bee’s good people.” He reached out, wrapped his arm round me, and hugged me. “We’ll get him found, don’t worry.”
I had no idea who he was, but that moment, he was all I had.
In a few seconds, Brad and Crip came running up to me.
Brad was frantic. “What happened?”
“Your dad. He
art attack. We need to go. He’s in an ambulance.”
He turned toward Crip. “Gotta go, Boss.”
Crip nodded. “Take escorts, you ain’t going alone.”
“Will do.” He glanced at me, and then looked at Crip. “Boss, I’m gonna be haulin’ ass. She should probably get a ride back with someone.”
“Excuse me?” I snapped.
He looked at me. “I’m going to be going as fast as that sled’ll go. If we wreck, it’s all over.”
“Then it’ll be all over for both of us. I’m going.”
The man who hugged me looked at Brad. “Need escorts?”
Pee Bee nodded. “Yeah, but it’s gotta be quick. We need to get now.”
“People see our colors, they move the fuck over,” the man said. “We’ll get you there in one piece.”
My heart swelled.
Brad nodded.
The man turned around. The back of his jacket had a banner across the top that I’d seen earlier.
Hells Angels.
“Bamma,” Crip said.
The man glanced over his shoulder.
“Appreciate ya,” Crip said.
“Anything for the Fuckers.” Bamma nodded once and turned away. “Angels!” he shouted at the top of his lungs. “Saddle up!”
We ran to the motorcycle, got on, and rode to the entrance of the park. My mind was in a fog, and Brad and I didn’t speak the entire time. When we pulled toward the entrance, my jaw dropped completely.
A line of motorcycles two wide and longer than I could count was waiting for us. One motorcycle was out in the road, stopping traffic.
Bamma was parked sideways in the road leading into the park. We pulled up to his side.
We’ll lead the way,” Bamma said over his shoulder. “I’ll get two out ahead running rabbit. How fast you wanna go?”
“As fast as we can,” Brad said.
Bamma looked at me, nodded once, and turned around. He cupped his hands around his mouth and tilted his head back. “Balls out, Angels!”
The men all shouted in response. “Hooaah!”
A warm tear ran down my cheek.
And we hit the road.
Balls out.
Chapter Sixty-Five
Pee Bee
I gazed down at him, wondering just how much time he had left. He was alive, but he looked like he wasn’t going to be for much longer.
My mother and Tegan had gone to the café for coffee.
The monitor beeped in the background as I surveyed the situation. He had oxygen tubes in his nose, wires and hoses strewn all over him, and various tubes inserted into his arms.
His eyes were closed, his cheeks were gaunt, and the skin on his face had gone thin. I couldn’t understand how so much change could take effect in less than a week.
Unless he was dying.
He was the man I’d spent a lifetime admiring. As long as it took me to become a man, I owed him my all. Through his awkward way of conveying himself, he had finally transformed me from the boy I had always been into the man I was certain I would remain.
I loved him dearly, and the thought of losing him was incomprehensible.
I lowered my head, said a prayer, and then cupped his fingers in the palm of my hand.
“I love you, Pop,” I said softly.
His eyes opened slightly.
He smiled a faint smile and moved his hand.
“I’m here, Pop. Tegan and mom went to get coffee. They’ll be right back.”
He nodded slightly and curled his finger toward his palm. I moved to the head of the bed and leaned over him. “What is it, Pop.”
He closed his eyes, opened his mouth, and spoke in a faint whisper. “I need to tell you something.”
I leaned over him, placing my ear close to his mouth.
He swallowed a few times. “Ice.”
I grabbed the Styrofoam cup from the bedside table, fished out a few chips of ice, and dropped them in his mouth.
He blinked his eyes.
After swallowing, he spoke softly. “I told you the two most memorable moments in a man’s life.”
I nodded. “When a man kisses the woman he’s going to marry for the first time, and then when he marries her.”
He blinked his eyes.
“I want to tell you the third most memorable,” he said, his voice faint and dry.
Don’t leave me, Pop.
Not yet.
I bit into my lower lip, nodded, and leaned over him.
“Third most memorable moment,” he whispered. “Is when that man and that woman give birth to a child.” With frail fingers, he squeezed my hand. “I love you, Son.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. Or tried to, at least.
I fought away the tears. “I love you, Pop.”
He blinked. And, then, again.
His eyes fell closed.
“Pop?” I gently patted his shoulder. “Stay with me. Mom and Tegan are gonna be right back.”
He opened his eyes.
“You dip-shit,” he whispered. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ve got an anniversary coming up.”
A sigh shot from my lungs.
Thank God.
If nothing else, he still had his attitude.
I cleared my throat. “Doctor said you had another heart attack. They might want to do another ablation. Said it could--”
“These doctors are dumbfucks,” he said. “Not one of these pricks could find his ass with both hands.”
“But--”
He shook his head. “No.”
The doctor said having an ablation procedure was his only chance at survival. The last time he had one, he almost didn’t make it through the operation. Twice, they had to resurrect him with the paddles. In the end, the operation took eight hours. At that time, he said he’d never do it again.
It was the only answer, though. He was stubborn, but he wasn’t stupid.
“But--”
“But nothing,” he said, and then he coughed. “Not doing that again. I saw the fuckin’ light last time. Not interested.”
“Pop…”
He closed his eyes.
My mother and Tegan walked in. Mom stepped to the opposite side of the bed. Tegan walked to my side and handed me a coffee.
“He woke up,” I said. “But I think he’s delirious.”
He opened his eyes, searched the room, and focused on Tegan. “Hey, kid.”
“How you doing, Bradley?”
“Been better.”
“You need to get better,” she said. “You’ve got an anniversary coming up.”
He nodded. “Your hair looks like shit.”
She choked on her laugh. “Me?”
He blinked. “Yeah.”
She reached for her hair. “Helmet head,” she said with a smile.
“How was it?” he asked. “Fun?”
She nodded. “It was great.”
“Dumb ass go the speed limit?”
“The entire way,” she lied.
He tried to smile, and then shifted his eyes to me. “Keep her safe.”
“I will,” I assured him.
“You do that.” He closed his eyes. “I’m going to take a little nap.”
And he fell asleep.
Chapter Sixty-Six
Tegan
Bradley had somehow elbowed his way into my life in a way that no other man had. He made a place for himself in one of the voids in my heart, and then resided there without even asking permission.
He had proven to me that love can find you when you least expect it, even if you’re not searching for it.
“What the fuck is this?”
I grinned. “Breakfast.”
“What’s this meat?” He lifted a piece of the turkey bacon and wagged it up and down. After a few gestures, it broke in two. He looked down at the plate. “Looks like fuckin’ cardboard.”
“It’s bacon.”
“I ain’t eating that shit, kid. Make me some bacon that comes from a pig’s a
ss.”
“The doctor said--”
“Fuck that doctor. He doesn’t have to eat this shit.”
I snatched the plate from his hand. “You’re impossible, Bradley.”
“Eating that shit you’re trying to feed me is impossible.”
I set the plate aside, cooked four pieces of bacon, made toast, and fried two fresh eggs. After carrying the two plates to the living room, I handed him one.
“Thank you.”
I nodded. “Keep it between you and me.”
“You can count on it.”
I ate the eggs and toast, and forced myself to eat the bacon. It was terrible, and although it didn’t taste like cardboard, it wasn’t much better.
He looked up. “Awful, ain’t it?”
“Uh huh.”
He finished his food and set the plate aside. “Tell me about you and my boy. How’s it going?”
We’d been seeing each other for three weeks. Somehow, we managed to see each other every day, if even for a short period of time. I tried to remain optimistic about it, but it wasn’t easy.
Regardless, I was happier than I’d ever been in a relationship.
“It’s going good.”
“Good?” He inhaled a long breath, exhaled, and shook his head in clear disgust. “What the fuck kind of answer is that?”
“I really enjoy our time together.”
“That’s better,” he said. “But I always enjoyed my time with my coworkers. Didn’t make them special.”
“Our time is special.”
“Has he kissed you?”
My face flushed. I grabbed a loose strand of hair and twisted in in circles. “Yeah.”
His eyebrows raised. “And?”
I continued twisting my hair. Then, I giggled. “What?”
“I don’t need all the gory details, but condense how it made you feel into one word. Just one. One you’d play on the Scrabble board.”
My response was immediate. “Special.”
“Now, summarize the entire kissing experience into one word.”
Again, my answer was already at the tip of my tongue. “P-E-R-F-E-C-T. Perfect. It was the perfect kiss.”
“You know.” He raised his index finger. “Sex can be great, yet mean absolutely nothing. But a great kiss? A great kiss can’t be dismissed. A great kiss must be accepted as being exactly what it is.”
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