Ink's Devil: Satan's Devils MC Colorado Chapter #5

by Manda Mellett

  From then on, she brought Connor and me up by herself, and I might be biased, but if you ask me, she’d made a good job of it. Until Connor set out to discover his sperm donor, that is.

  “Well it sounds like we might be seeing more of him,” I tell her, hoping I sound optimistic as I add, “Maybe we can turn him back around.”

  Another glance toward the front door. “It could be a good sign that he dropped in. Maybe he doesn’t want to be such a stranger?” Then she turns back to me, and she’s smiling instead of frowning. “Now do you want to go unpack and then help me decide what to cook for dinner?”

  After telling her she’d gotten my mouth watering with the mention of the pot roast, I take my bag up the stairs and step back into my real life. As I unpack my clothes and put them away, I try to empty my head of a certain biker.

  Shut him in the closet and turn the key.

  Moments later I’m descending the stairs and offering cheerfully, “What can I do to help, Mom?”

  Chapter Four

  Ink

  Slowly waking, I groan, then stretch, then placing my hand on my morning wood, realise my cock is slightly sore. I grin, if I can feel it the next day, fuck me, I doubt Beth can walk.

  Beth. I hadn’t expected to enjoy her so much, nor fuck her so many times. Nor utilise almost every position in my repertoire and hadn’t had a thought in my head about spanking her when we’d first come to my room. A quick fuck, a release, then I’d have patted her ass and chased her out. Only, it hadn’t happened quite that way.

  She intrigued me. She’d approached me, I hadn’t targeted her, nor would I have done, she’s a civilian. What I saw was a confident woman going after what she wanted, and she got my respect and the promise to provide what she was after.

  At six-feet-six, I know my height gives me an advantage which I milk the hell out of. With muscles to boot, not many men challenge me. I expected the same would be true of Beth, but once she was in my room, I began to think, what I saw as a benefit to her could be a drawback. One by one my assumptions were proved wrong, and I began to see her confidence was an act.

  I’m now full of admiration that she actually came on to me. Thank fuck she had, I’d have missed out had she lost her nerve. I’d ended up with a night to remember, and one that I’ll certainly put in my spank bank.

  I hadn’t expected Beth to be a virgin, but I had expected her to be more experienced than she clearly was. Turns out, I’d enjoyed introducing her to new things. My lips curve as I remember marking her ass. She’d been shocked, but thoroughly enjoyed it. If I’d been in my own space, I’d have had more things to teach her.

  She’d been assertive enough to joke with me though. Laughing at my cock? I growl as I remember. Well, I’d certainly shown her it was no joking matter. I’d laid out six condoms to shock her, I’d expected to use one. Then when that turned into two, I thought we may use four. But when I’d finally run out of stamina, I realised we’d used the lot.

  I’m thirty, not old, but hell, six times in one night? I grin in the mirror as I shave. Beth certainly kept my engine revving. Even the memory of how she responded has my cock perking up. Time to find a club whore later.

  I wonder what Beth would look like handcuffed to my bed wearing nipple clamps?

  No, I’ve got to get that thought right out of my head. Nice girls like her could easily get the wrong idea if I asked to see her again, and I’m not in the market for more than a casual hookup. But the image stays lodged in my mind as I pull on my clothes, the same ones as I wore yesterday. I’ll change into a clean pair of jeans and a fresh shirt when I get back to the clubhouse, there was no point bringing spare clothes.

  Last night with Beth was different from going with one of the sweet butts, I muse as I pack my toiletries away and slip into my cut. Only because she wasn’t like them, I tell myself. I hadn’t known what to expect. Once again, I grin as I go over the events of last night in my head. Half of me thought she’d run away screaming as I hadn’t gone through anything close to a seduction. I’d just told her to strip. Well, what’s the point of making a big deal out of removing clothes? Most of the activity takes place naked, why waste time? I’m all for efficiency.

  Christ, I’m making wood just thinking about her.

  A loud knock comes on my door, and a voice floats through it. “You awake, Bro?”

  Adjusting my cock so it’s comfortable, I go to open up. “Yo, Mace.”

  The enforcer pokes his head around the door. “You alone?”

  Shaking my head, I chuckle. “Of course, I am.”

  “She lost her nerve then?”

  “Six condom wrappers in the bin shows that she didn’t.” I smirk.

  “Oh, you tore a few, that happens. Overeager I expect.”

  I go to belt him around the side of his head, but he jumps out of reach, laughing.

  “She worth giving a try?”

  I make a seesaw gesture with my hands, while trying to hide the fact I’m gritting my teeth. “Wouldn’t say that. She was pretty vanilla.”

  Mace’s way of fucking is very similar to my own, so his face falls. Then his eyes narrow. “But six condoms, man?”

  “Nah, fuckin’ with ya, Bro,” I contradict myself. “Once was enough. It was marginally better than using my hand.”

  He doesn’t seem to know which of my statements to believe. As he eyes the waste bin the other side of the room and makes as though to enter, I place my hand firmly against his chest and push him out the door, pausing only to grab my saddlebag and my thick leather jacket which I’ll surely need. Outside, it will be fucking cold.

  He chortles. I’m transparent it would seem. “You staying to eat here?”

  “Nah. Had enough mixing with civilians last night. Want to take my chance riding home while the snow is still melted. There’s more forecasted for later.”

  “Not until tonight, thank fuck. Hey, you just don’t want to face her today, do you?”

  Yes and no. Yes, because my evil side wants to make her uncomfortable with knowing looks and winks, maybe a comment about the stiff way she’s walking. No, because the sooner she’s out of sight, she’ll be out of mind. But of course, I don’t make that admission. “Don’t give a damn one way or another, Ground Pounder.”

  “Bet you do, you fuckin’ Leatherneck.”

  Mace was in the United States Army, I’m an ex-Marine. We often trade insults. Well, he invites it as he still wears his hair military short, mine I’ve allowed to grow out. We continue verbally sniping at each other and exchanging playful punches while waiting for the elevator to arrive.

  “Christ, this is a fuckin’ fancy hotel. Should have known it was too good for rabble like you two.”

  “Hey, VP.” I move aside to make way for Steph, Beef’s blind wife, to step inside the elevator that’s just arrived, her guide dog Max competently leading her into it. “How you doing today?”

  “I’m tired,” Steph says, turning toward me. If it wasn’t for my knowledge of her and that she’s not quite looking high enough to meet my eyes, you’d never know she couldn’t see out of them.

  “Yeah,” the VP takes over, “some asshole in the room next to ours kept us awake until the early hours. Fuckin’ headboard knocking against the fuckin’ wall. And screams, of ‘fuck yeah, just like that, right there,’” he mimics in a falsetto.

  Mace chokes back a laugh.

  Seeing Beef’s arched brow, I know he knows fucking well, he wasn’t in the room next to mine.

  “Asshole,” I tell him.

  Mace slaps my back. “Probably had a knock-on effect through the rooms.” He pauses and considers his words. “Knock-on effect. Literally.” He cracks up.

  I try to glare but can’t keep the stern expression on my face. Fucking assholes, the lot of them, these brothers that I profess to love. By the time we exit the hotel, I’m chuckling myself as I do up the zip of my jacket right to the neck, pull on my winter riding gloves and place a beanie on my head, then take out my bandana. Befo
re I wrap it around my mouth and nose, I nod to Beef’s bike.

  “Those heated grips work?”

  “Yeah. Keep my palms warm, anyway,” Beef replies as he waits for Steph to steady herself and put her arms around him. I notice him watching the prospect he must have summoned as Karl opens the door of the truck and Max hops inside. That’s our VP, making sure everyone’s accounted for, whether canine or human.

  As Steph rests her head against his back, I wonder what it’s like to have a bitch up behind you. I wouldn’t know, I’ve never taken anyone on my bike before, never wanted to, which is why I only have a single seat on mine. But their closeness, their love is almost palpable. Just for one teeny second, I’m jealous. The alien sensation proves the thought I had yesterday is right. Weddings really do fuck with your mind.

  But hey, there’s a cure for that. By now all the sweet butts will have returned to the compound, and I can take my choice. Unless they’re in high demand, which they might well be. It wouldn’t surprise me if everyone was like me, and Pyro and Mel’s nuptials will have made them horny.

  The ride to the compound is a chilly one, but the roads have been gritted and cleared, just needing a little extra care to be taken, and one eye kept out for black ice. As the weather determines how often we can ride now, I enjoy the cold air rushing past, relishing in the freedom of the road. The VP’s in front as he should be, Mace and I ride alongside each other.

  This is the life. Whatever the elements throw at us.

  Nevertheless, I rub my hands together briskly then blow on them once I enter the warmth inside the clubhouse.

  “Need someone to warm you up, Ink?” a voice full of seduction murmurs into my ear. It’s easily recognisable as Sheila.

  Now that would definitely melt the cold that seems to have seeped into my bones. “Sure, doll. Why not?”

  Detouring only to grab a bottle of beer from the bar, I head on up to my room, confident the sweet butt will be following.

  Maybe I overworked my cock last night, I muse sometime later when Sheila’s left to move on to the next brother who wants his needs seen to. Oh, it perked up and did its job, but the release didn’t feel the same. Not as satisfying. Strange.

  The rest of the day passes like any other Sunday, drinking and playing pool or cards with anyone who wanted a game. For once I go to bed fairly early. Well, last night I didn’t get much sleep.

  I’ve been a member of the Satan’s Devils MC for four years. I’d joined the Marines when I was eighteen, did a few tours, saw shit no man should ever see, and left after eight years feeling I’ve given enough to my country. Before I joined up, I used to see the Satan’s Devils riding around my hometown of Pueblo, knew of their reputation, or enough to steer clear. But my view of them changed when I’d bumped into Mace in a bar while home on leave, got talking to him, and made a connection. After that, I sought him out after every tour, and from our chats, began to revise my opinion of the bike-loving Devils.

  When I received my discharge papers, I became a prospect. Hellfire patched me in after a year. I quickly found my place working alongside Pyro and Mace in the auto-shop, which is where I spend the working week. As it’s now Monday morning, that’s where I can be found.

  “Got a job for you, Ink.”

  I stand and wait for Pyro’s instruction. He’s the manager here and I look to him to allocate work.

  He hands some paperwork to me. “Man wants Marilyn Monroe air brushed onto the tank of his bike.”

  “Yeah?” I glance down at the iconic photo. No wonder he’s given this to me. As well as being a mechanic, I’ve found I’m quite a good artist too. “No problem. I’ll start immediately.”

  “Why does he get all the cushy jobs?” grumbles Mace.

  Pyro mock punches his arm. “’Cause you can’t paint for shit,” he replies.

  “You not taking a honeymoon, Ro?” I ask, finding it strange he’s back to work so soon after getting hitched.

  “Nah. Got too many expenses with the new house.”

  “Then you’ll have to save up for shit for the kid.” Money, the root of everything.

  The reminder that his wife is pregnant makes Pyro beam. Then his face falls. “Early days, Brothers. We won’t be getting shit together for months yet.”

  Mace and I exchange glances. We’re all convinced Mel miscarried last time due to the stress caused by Skull. But there’s always a chance it had nothing to do with that, and her body could have just rejected the baby. Christ, it’s understandable they must be worried.

  I slap his back. “You need anything to stop her getting stressed, you ask, Brother. If it’s money you need, I’ve got some saved, which is yours if you want.” I have too, a few grand, not a huge amount, but I’d not hesitate about giving it up to help a brother.

  Pyro nods. “Appreciate that, Ink.”

  “Count me in, Bro. If you ever need to cut back your hours to be there for her, I’ll pick up the slack.” Mace isn’t going to be left out.

  It didn’t really need to be said. We’re family, we step up to support each other. Whatever it takes. Once a brother takes an old lady, she becomes one of ours as well.

  I settle down to work, and the next couple of days pass like any other. I do my job, go back to the compound, drink, eat and fuck. Wash, rinse and repeat. A routine, but not one that leaves me bored.

  On Wednesday, I take my seat in church alongside my brothers.

  Buzzard runs through the finances. Pyro raises his chin toward me when the reports from the auto-shop are favourable. Much of it down to the publicity we’ve had going out for our set-price winter checks on cars, for supplying chains and snow tyres, and keeping a good stock of new batteries for when the old ones just don’t cope with the cold. It makes up for the lack of servicing and custom jobs on bikes which tend to drop off this time of year. Weekend warriors tend to avoid winter riding.

  Devil’s Ink, the tattoo parlour which is Lizard’s baby, is also doing well, and Vi, Demon’s wife, has completed her apprenticeship and become an artist herself now. Piercings, it seems, are proving a roaring trade, and of course, there’s repartee when Sparky asks Lizard exactly how many cocks he’s held in his hands.

  Once Prez brings the meeting back to order, we learn takings are also up at the bowling alley, and Rusty grins, adding the explanation himself.

  “People tend to look for indoor activities in the winter,” he explains. “And Steph’s idea about promoting children’s and adults’ birthday parties has taken off. Almost more bookings than we can cater for.”

  “Sparky, how’s Tits Up?” Demon asks.

  Sparky’s a mechanic, but brothers have been rotating the management of our strip club since Taser betrayed us and was put down.

  “Good. Held auditions for a new dancer. Settled on one. She’s got some great moves. I think the customers will like her.”

  Demon nods. It looks like he thinks Sparky’s doing a good job. My thought confirmed by his next words. “You want to take the management on permanently?”

  Sparky grimaces. Unlike our other businesses, Tits Up opens late and stays open until the small hours. A manager’s free time is curtailed.

  “I’ve got an idea,” Beef puts in. “Why not have two managers? Week on, week off. Day on, day off, or however they work that shit. That way the burden is shared.”

  Wills raises his hand. “I know I’m still green, but I don’t mind stepping up if Sparky shows me the ropes.”

  “Hey, boy, you old enough to know tits from ass?” Bomber slaps his palm down on the table chuckling loudly at his own humour.

  “Yeah, will you be able to stop shooting your load when you see the dancers wrapped round that pole?” Rusty adds.

  “He’ll wish they were wrapped around his pole.” Thunder chortles with the rest.

  Wills, twenty-three if I remember right and quite old enough to work in an adult club, lets the witticisms flood over him, and with only a slight twitch to his lips replies in a serious tone, “I’ll have t
o try now, won’t I?”

  Wills has only sat around the table for a year, but he’s got a sensible enough head for the job. I raise my hand in support when Demon asks.

  “Any objections?”

  There are none. Wills has a new job. Sparky looks relieved he’ll be getting more time off.

  “Pal? Cad? How’s the security business?”

  That too, it would appear, is coming along fine.

  It’s a routine meeting, nothing out of the ordinary until other business comes around. Demon suddenly frowns. At this point in the meeting it’s unusual, and I’m not the only one to sit forward.

  “Got something we need to keep a look out for. Had word from both the Wretched Soulz and the Silvestri.” As he mentions the dominant MC and the local Mafia, everyone sits up straighter. “There are drugs coming into town, and it’s not them controlling it.”

  We don’t allow dealing on or near our premises. We like Devil’s Ink, Devil’s Pins, and Tits Up to have a good reputation, and have an agreement with both organisations that they deal in other parts of town.

  “I haven’t seen anything,” says Sparky, frowning. “I’ll start keeping an eye out.” He raises his chin toward Wills, who gives him a sharp nod.

  Prez continues, “That’s what I’m asking everyone to do. We don’t know who the asshole is. RIP thinks it could be organised crime stepping on everyone’s toes.” If RIP, the prez of the Wretched Soulz sees fit to issue a warning, it’s something we should heed.

  “What do you want us to do if we catch someone dealing?”

  “Bring them in, if you can. We’ll question them ourselves, then pass what’s left off onto the dominant. RIP would be grateful.”

  Doing a favour for the prez of the Wretched Soulz would gain us some bonus points.