.jpg)
Harmonious wails of unabashed pleasure belted from deep within my soul. His mouth brushed my ear, and my legs gave out. Somehow he kept me from falling, as he kept up the beautiful torture.
“Your sweet little pussy is gonna come all over my fingers, Sugar Tits,” he hotly breathed.
I nodded, mumbling disjointedly between panted breaths.
“Tell me what you want,” he demanded, nipping my earlobe. Uncontrollably, I shuddered and my knees wobbled, but I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t think. I needed him. I needed him to release me. I needed him to bring me to the crescendo of bliss.
“Tell me how much you want me,” he commanded huskier, his own breath shooting in hot spurts. He was as turned on as I was.
The fingers inside my pussy stilled as he awaited my reply. I wanted to whine in protest, but nothing could come out. I was too far gone. My nipples ached as they beaded to sharp points in my bra. My clit throbbed incessantly as my pussy tightened around his fingers, milking them.
“Tell me,” he repeated.
“I….” I closed my mouth, and swallowed hard, my stomach shook to the point of near sickness, as my body danced on the edge. “I…. need…..you… please…make…” I stalled and huffed out a shaky breath.
“Make you what?” he prompted, clearly enjoying this show of power. A power I both hated and loved him for.
“Come,” I blurted stronger than I anticipated.
My body craved him. I didn’t care what I had to do. I wanted him to bring me to climax. It wasn’t about the coming; it was about him doing it. Proving to me that I was his woman, and he owned my orgasms. God, did I love him owning them.
“Your wish is my command,” he naughtily acquiesced with a smile in his voice.
My world tilted as Big curled around my body, took my mouth in the sexiest kiss alive, with so much tongue, I nearly fainted. Then he pushed my limits to a level I’d never gone before. His fingers didn’t fuck my pussy; they briskly coaxed my g-spot, as his other stilled on the tip of my aching clit and pushed. My body coiled, my breath stilled, my heart thudded in my chest. Then it happened, a warmth spread from my pussy down to my toes and up to my scalp. A heady shot of untainted ecstasy rocketed through my veins, as my pussy clamped around Big’s fingers and my body quaked uncontrollably from the flawless climax.
Big pulled from my bruised lips, opening Pandora’s sound box. The unabashed scream that tore from my mouth made my throat raw and the curses of sated delight followed.
Minutes passed before I was able to open my eyes and my body leveled out. My head swam, and my body felt like a puddle of happy mush. Big carefully removed his hands from my pants and kissed my temple.
“That was as beautiful as always, babe,” he said warmly. “There’s nothing better than having my old lady comin’ all over my fingers.” He brought them to his mouth and sucked them clean. “Mmmmmm,” he hummed in his throat. “You taste delicious.”
If I wasn’t swimming in a land of euphoria, I would have told him how disgusting he was. I couldn’t say anything, so I shuffled out of Big’s bubble that smelled of him and dropped into one of the leather armchairs that adjoined his heavy executive desk. Big knelt in front of me and tapped the phone which I miraculously hadn’t dropped.
I wanted to scream at him with embarrassment. But his proud smile warmed me, taking the severe shock of what I had just done with a friend on the phone and washed it away. It replaced my unease with a mild enthusiasm for how naughty we had just been in his office again. It’s one thing to do it with people you didn’t care for present. It’s a whole other to bring a budding friend into the thick. I had done that, and there was no taking it back now.
I waited a few beats to gather my nerves. Big nodded reassuringly, stood, and pecked my lips before rounding his desk and going back to work.
I placed the phone firmly to my ear. “Phew,” I blew out a rush of air, “I’m so sorry about that, Beth. Nothin’ like starting off a new friendship with an orgasm.” I tried to sound breezy, but it fell short, and I still felt guilty as hell.
I mean, what kind of man forces his woman to come while talking on the phone? A complete asshole, that’s who. I wanted to be livid, I really did, but my noodly, post climatic, endorphin high left me mildly irritated at best. Not to mention my nerves about talking with Beth flew out the window as soon as I shattered blissfully all over Big’s magic fingers.
A week is all it took for him to fine tune me. One stinkin’ week to know each and every note to pluck to get the best reaction. Even coming on my bike had never been as simple and effortless as Big’s fingers determinedly coaxing me to heaven.
Beth wheezed with anxiety, “That’s okay….did…..ummmm…Big, do that?” She was nervous; I could tell by the squeakiness in her voice.
“Yes,” I grumbled, leering at him from my leather armchair. He didn’t notice. He was too busy working and smiling like the cat ate the canary to give a damn.
“He’s kind of intense, isn’t he?” she asked.
A sarcastic chuckle bubbled out of me. “I dunno if intense would be the proper word,” I admitted, leaning back in my chair to get comfortable and kicking my heels on to the edge of Big’s desk. He glanced up from his paperwork, raising a brow at my feet. I dared him with my eyes to say anything. He didn’t. Only his smug smile widened, and he shook his head, amused. I ignored him.
“I would go with jerk, control freak, caveman, asshole…. or something to that affect,” I explained to Beth, my eyes watching Big to catch a reaction from my words. I knew he was listening. Much to my dismay, he didn’t flinch, smile, or have a single response. I was seriously losing my touch.
Beth snorted a surprised laugh, “Oh my god, did he just hear you say that?”
“Yup,” I grumbled, unwilling to divulge more.
Silence stretched making me uncomfortable until she finally mustered the courage to tell me why she had called.
“Can you tell me about Runner?” Beth blurted exceedingly fast.
I held back a gasp and a wave of revulsion. Of all the brothers to be interested in, Runner would have been my last choice. Is he good looking? If you like that dark hair, dark eyes, brooding, sexaholic kinda thing, then yeah, I suppose he would be considered a babe. To me though? I wouldn’t spare him a second glance. Apparently Beth had different ideas.
“What do you want to know?” I tried to sound levelheaded, no inflection in my tone. I didn’t want to sway her one way or the other. God knows it wasn’t my place to pass judgment on her attraction, considering I was sitting across from a man twenty years my senior, who had helped raise me, bought me from my bitch of a mother, impregnated me after I basically threw myself at him in a fit of despair, and then ran away from. One fucking fucked up mess was who I was.
“Does he have a girlfriend?” she inquired.
The shock of her question was like a swift slap to the face. I reared back in my chair, nearly dropping the phone in the process and closed my eyes, squeezing them so hard my forehead and nose ached.
Taking in a luxuriating lung full of air, I tried to reel it in.
“Um… no, he doesn’t have an old lady.” But he fucks more women than all the other men combined, I finished in my head. I couldn’t tell her that. Family code and all that jazz. “Why do you ask?” I added, crossing my fingers that she wasn’t the one to be interested in him and prayed she was writing a paper on male bikers who whore around or had a friend who liked him instead. Runner is not the kind of man a woman like Beth needed.
Beth exhaled a stretched sigh, “That’s what I was hoping.”
“Why?” I asked, even though it was none of my business.
“After he helped me bring grandpa… Jonesy home, he’s been by three times this week. He seems really sweet. Then yesterday, when I was fixing grandpa his morning coffee, Loni the florist delivered a bouquet of white daisies,” she paused and dropped her tone to a whisper, “they were from…him.”
I couldn’t help myself. Struck
with disbelief, I tactlessly blurted, “We’re talkin’ about the same Runner, right? Five ten, medium frame, tattoo of a naked hula girl on his forearm, wild hair, and needs a good shave…. that man?” I scrubbed my palm to my face to make sure I was indeed awake. In all the years I’ve known that man, he’s never shown that sort of interest in a piece of tail. I had no idea what she was. A conquest? Somebody he genuinely liked? Felt sorry for? Not a goddamn clue. I sought to find out.
Beth and I carried on for some time. I found out that she began caring for her great grandpa when her mom died six years ago. Her dad was never in the picture. Great grandma, Jonesy’s wife, passed on over forty years ago from cancer, but he hasn’t dated since. Sounds like Jonesy is a one woman kind of man, even in death. Now that’s true love.
Beth lives with her great grandpa in the house that he and his late wife, Marge, bought back in the 1940’s. Over the two-hour conversation, I heard all about the house and family and her past. She was more than obliged to share, and I was willing to listen. Occasionally during the conversation Big would glance up from his work, give me a warming grin of approval, and go back to whatever it was that he was doing. After it was all said and done, I had a sense that Beth, even at thirty-three, was lonely because she’d spent most of her life caring for someone in her family. From her mother being diagnosed with breast cancer and dying, to Jonesy or mothering her younger sister, Tabitha, who’s apparently one big-fat-fucking mooch. Beth loves her sister, I can tell. From what I’ve heard, that self-centered girl needs a reality check, biker bitch style.
The conversation concluded, and I hung up the phone both relieved to finish the conversation and happy to have spoken to her for that long. Afterward, I kissed Big and thanked him for allowing me to carry on in his office and went to find Runner. He was sitting at the bar in the common room talking with Gypsy and Mickey. Whatever hushed banter they were sharing, ceased when I approached them.
“Hey, Bink,” Mickey said moving from his stool and offering it to me with the sweep of his hand.
Climbing on the stool, I rested my elbows on the bar. Mickey stood behind me, and Runner sat on the stool to my right.
“So, I hear we have a mutual friend,” I said, turning my head to look at Runner.
“Oh, yeah? Who?” Runner was being cocky, while his hand circled a bottle of Bud.
“Beth,” I announced, and he seized up in his chair, back stiff, jaw throbbing from grinding his teeth. I could see the sudden grating of his jaw, and I could hear it.
“She’s none of your business,” he seethed under his breath, staring at his bottle of beer and squeezing it till his knuckles turned white from the pressure.
Apparently someone was a bit sensitive on the subject of Beth.
Gypsy did what he does best and spoke in his weird, cryptically poetic way. Makes no sense to me why he was never road named Yoda. “Pussy becomes more than pussy when you choose to defend it. Make that mistake once, learn from it, make it once more, and it shall be the death of you,” he said, then patted Runner on the shoulder, gave me a peck on the cheek, and was gone, leaving us to deconstruct his statement in our own way.
We sat in silence for maybe a minute, all of us obviously trying to come to our own conclusion of Gypsy’s words. It left me with an understanding that he thought Runner had invested in Beth, and it would be the death of him. I dunno, what do you think?
Gypsy speaks very little, and when he does, it’s usually one or two words. To get an entire sentence out of him is rare and held as a precious gift to treasure. He’s by far the gentlest brother. Even though he looks to be one of the fiercest, with darker skin, of what decent, I’m not sure. His eyes are black as coal, but twinkle like the finest diamond. His hair is and has always been dark, well-kept dreads. The most unique thing about him, besides his striking, almost otherworldly looks, is his heavily accented tongue. Sometimes you think it’s Greek, while others you swear it holds a different edge.
Once we had deciphered Gypsy’s gift, Runner cocked his head to look at me. “What I choose to do with Beth, or not, is none of your concern, Bink.” He spoke much calmer than before, “I know you are lookin’ out for a fellow Sister, or Sister in training, but what goes on there ain’t none of your business. I shouldn’t have made Prez’s mine back in the day when my mouth shot off. I got my ass rightfully handed to me. I don’t want my ass handed to me again for talkin’ back to my Prez’s old lady. But you interfere with Beth and me, and I’m gonna put you in your place. Ya got me?” He kept his eyes on me awaiting my reply, his face stern, and penetrating eyes oddly soft.
I wasn’t sure if I should have been relieved that he apparently cared so much or pissed because he was being an ass. Relieved was the feeling that won out because I respected his position, even though I was looking out for a new friend.
“Okay, I get you. But she’s a friend now. And if you fuck with her, you fuck with me, and if you fuck with me, you fuck with the rest of the sisterhood. We can and will make your life a livin’ hell. Ya got me?” I raised a brow and jerked a nod at him, my elbows perched on the bar.
“Are you givin’ him shit about Beth?” Big chastised halfheartedly, entering into the common room.
I turned my head and watched him stride my way. Mickey moved to take Gypsy’s vacated stool, and Big came up behind me, curling his arms around my middle, hands on our daughter. His lips touched my neck. “Are you bein’ a pain in the balls again?” he teased, hotly breathing over my sensitive skin.
I tilted my head back, resting it on his shoulder and offering up my neck further.
“If you two start fuckin’, I’m leavin’,” Mickey groaned, taking a sip of Gypsy’s vacated beer.
“I second that,” Runner added, lifting his beer and toasting it with Mickey’s.
“We’re not fuckin’…. sheesh,” I blew out. These damn men and their minds always going to sex, sex, sex. Well…guess it’s not like I’m much better.
“Who said?” Big kissed my neck and nipped it with his teeth. I felt that all the way down to my toes and held my breath so I didn’t moan.
“I did,” I explained leveling my tone. “We’re talkin’ about Runner not fucking over Beth.”
Big rubbed his raging hard-on against my back, “You’re gonna let Runner do what he wants, and I’m ready to talk about this fuckin’. I’m hard.”
Mickey’s head dropped forward as he awkwardly grumbled, “Jesus, Prez.”
“Jesus ain’t got nothing’ to do with it. My old lady does.” Big’s hands slid down my belly to cup my pussy over my black yoga pants. “You wet yet?” he whispered in my ear.
I was; it’s impossible not to be with him. But I wasn’t about to give the cocky asshole the satisfaction of knowing it and I was sure as hell, not going to give my pussy to him, for the sheer fact, that he was being just that—a cocky asshole.
Instead, I slapped his hands and yanked them from my crotch, throwing them off.
“Pissed and wet, my favorite,” Big commented with a chuckle, wrapping his arms around my shoulders. I tried to shrug them off. Didn’t work.
“I’m not wet,” I demanded angrily. He could kiss my fat ass. I wasn’t gonna give him a damn thing.
“Yes, ya are. You’re mad, and I’m hard. Let’s fix it.”
Uhhhh! I had had enough!
I snapped to look at a smiling Runner, “Don’t smile like that!” I yelled, “and don’t you fucking mess with Beth, or I’ll make you sorry you ever decided to buy her daisies by cutting off your cock and feeding it to Pretzel.”
I didn’t wait for a reply. I pried the caveman’s arms off my shoulders and jumped off the stool.
“Bink,” Big warned, reaching out to catch my arm as I tried to storm away. He pulled me to him, my front to his.
Big’s hand swept into the side of my hair, and he leaned down to kiss my forehead. “Don’t be pissed ‘cause I wanna fuck you. And don’t be pissed cause you’re wet thinkin’ about it.” He spoke to my forehead and p
ulled his lips back, “My dick wants to pound nails every time you’re around, Sugar Tits. I’m not makin’ fun of ya for your pussy feelin’ the same way.”
He single dimple grinned making my heart swell and continued, “But I’ve got more work shit to do anyhow. We’ll get to the fuckin’ in my bed with you ridin’ my cock tonight at ten. Be naked and ready.”
I glanced up to make eye contact and sneered at him, placing my hands on my cocked hips. His grin morphed into toothy smile as his eyes dazzled with amused adoration.
“You’re such—,” I opened my mouth to offer a snide comment, only to be cut off when he said, “I love it when you look at me that way. Only a woman who really loves her man would look like she can’t to decide if she wants to knee me in the balls or fuck me to death.”
My sneer grew. I curled my lips cruelly over my teeth and my nose bunched, as I squinted my eyes, wishing they were lasers.
He chuckled, “I’m thinkin’ if I keep on talkin’, I’m gonna have to pull out the cuffs to fuck ya and I’d rather save those for later.” Big leaned down to press a chaste kiss to my lips. “I love ya, babe. Be good,” he said before he headed back to his office.
That night Big got what he wanted—me naked riding his cock. I was hoping I would fuck him to death. Didn’t work, he’s still breathing. And now I can’t fuck him anyhow, doctor’s orders.
“Alright, girls’ weekend it is,” he announces, tugging me from my thoughts, “with whoever the fuck ya wanna bring.”
“Thank you.” I mutter, refusing to smile even though I really want to. I did win after all.
“Are you sure you’re gonna listen?” Big questions from inside his bedroom closet. “I don’t wanna roll out tomorrow and something happen to you.”
Walking out of the closet with an arm full of clothes, he drops them on the bed beside me. I take one look at them and inhale deeply to keep from crying. Two hours ago, after our argument in the clubhouse, I can’t stop thinking about him leaving me for two weeks and what he’s going to be doing, or more specifically, who. This is going to be harder than I thought.