Filthy Bastard (Grim Bastards MC) (23 page)

“Yes, right there,” I moan out, moving my hips in rhythm with his finger.

He raises up and shakes his head. “There’s no way in hell I’m letting you come without feeling it around my dick.

Going to his knees, he reaches over and grabs a condom out of the bedside table. Before he can get it open, I’m taking it from his hand. I reach down with one hand and grab onto his hard cock. While giving it a few hard strokes, I rip open the condom with my teeth. He takes it from me and slips it on.

His mouth comes to mine as he runs his cock up and down my pussy, teasing my clit with each pass. Finally, he sinks the tip in. We moan into each other’s mouths as he pushes into me, inch by glorious inch. He is almost all the way in before he pulls back out again. He does this a few times, teasing me with what he knows I want most of all.

“Please, I need to feel all of you,” I beg, raising my hips to force him just a bit deeper.

Brew lifts his head and says, “Patience, Little Red. I promise, when you come, all this waiting will be worth it.”

He leans up on his elbows as he continues to give me only a taste of what I want. When I’m sure he’s never going to quit toying with me, he slams into me as deep as he can go. He is still for a moment, and as we look into each other’s eyes, he finally starts moving.

His thrusts are slow but powerful, causing the headboard to slam against the wall. I can feel my stomach tightening as my orgasm quickly approaches. Brew lifts his chest from mine and holds himself up on one hand, while he uses the thumb of the other to rub circles on my swollen clit. It only takes a couple of strokes of his thumb before my pussy is clenching around his cock.

“Brew!” I scream his name as an orgasm tears through my body.

“Fuck, Addy. I love the feel of your tight pussy squeezing my cock,” he says as he continues to glide in and out.

His thrusts grow ragged, each one going deeper than the one before. Finally, he buries himself to the root and holds. I can feel him swell inside me, before his cock jerks with his release. He collapses on top of me, barely holding himself up enough so he doesn’t crush me with his weight.

His breath is coming out in pants as he says, “I’m so damn glad you’re mine.”

I close my eyes against all the emotions rolling inside of me. “Not as glad as I am that you are mine.”

Brew
Thirty Years Old

WALKING THROUGH
the door, the bell dings and my heart starts to race. I haven’t been in a Decker’s Creamery in fucking years, not since before I was arrested. If I had my way, I’d never be in one again. All it does is bring back memories I wish could be forgotten.

“What can I get you?” a pimple-faced kid asks from his spot behind the counter. “You can sample anything you like.”

“I don’t want a fucking thing,” I grumble out as Addy pushes in front of me.

“Three cups of Chunky Monkey,” she tells him, narrowing her eyes on me.

“I told you when you dragged me in here, I don’t want a damn thing from this place,” I tell her, crossing my arms over my chest.

“I’ll eat yours,” she says with a shrug.

“You’re gonna have to, because that shit ain’t getting anywhere near me.” At this point, I’m too angry to care if I sound like a fucking prick.

Pushing Cam into my arms, she motions for me to get a table. “Just go sit down before you scare the server to death.”

Not bothering to reply, I grab a highchair and head to a table. “Your Aunt Addy is pissing me off, Little Man.”

“Daddy pissssss.” He attempts to mimic me, drawing the word out for emphasis.

The kid seems to have a sixth sense, picking up the one word I don’t want him to repeat. Addy is always on my ass, telling me to watch my mouth. I figure the kid spends half his time at a biker clubhouse; cussing is the least of my worries.

“Shhh, boy. You can’t be saying that,” I tell him with a shake of my head.

I’m just getting him strapped in, when Addy places our bowls on the table. “I hope you’re in a better mood now.”

“You shouldn’t have made me come here if you wanted me in a good mood,” I grumble as I shove the bowl away and take a seat.

She lets out a frustrated breath and says, “I can’t make you do anything, Brew. You could have said no if you didn’t want to come.”

“I did, Addy. You know I did,” I growl out, staring straight into her eyes. “I said no about a million fucking times, but you wouldn’t drop it. You bitched and you bitched, until you got your damn way.”

Red’s a good woman, a great wife, and a fucking amazing old lady. What she is not is reasonable. When she gets an idea in her head, nothing I can do or say will stop her. She decided we had to come to Decker’s Creamery, to let Cam taste Chunky Monkey. No matter how many times I said no, how many times I told her to take one of the old ladies, she wouldn’t drop it.

She looks at me and pastes on a smile. “They have the best Chunky Monkey in the world. I thought that when you took a bite, you would get over being pissed.”

Her reply is so flippant, it causes anger to shoot through me. “Well, you thought wrong. I’m not getting over being pissed any time soon.”

Addy’s hand shoots out and grabs mine, giving it a gentle squeeze. “For the last year, you’ve done everything you can to make me forget the bad memories and remember the good ones. I want to do the same for you.”

I close my eyes and take in a deep breath, hoping to keep the bite out of my words. “Red, this place doesn’t hold anything but bad memories for me. Bringing me here does nothing but bring all that shit back up.”

“That’s not true,” she says, pointing to the wall. “I see some good memories right there. If you look, I bet you will, too.”

My eyes follow her fingers, landing on the pictures on the wall. The pictures, all the fucking pictures. How could I forget? Every shop throughout the US has them. They litter the wall, painting a picture of our family that is a complete lie. They go back, all the way to my great-grandfather, showing our family as we grew. He started the tradition in his very first shop, and it’s lasted all through the years, even after Decker Creameries became a chain.

Most are candid shots, taken at family reunions or birthday parties. There are even a few of us on vacation, at the beach and in the mountains. In each one, we are all smiling, making us appear like the perfect American family. Just seeing them cuts me to the quick. I’m about to stand up, tell Addy her fucking ice cream will have to wait for another day, when I land on a picture of Trina and me.

We’re young. It was taken at her seventh birthday party. She’s holding my hand as she shows me the new doll our grandmother got her. In an instant, it all comes back. Every fucking thing that I had lost when I let my anger force my sister from my mind. The laugher, the friendship, the love: it’s all right there in my mind again.

Picking up Cam, he starts to scream, “Ice cream, Daddy.”

At nearly two, he’s learned how to throw one hell of a fit, but I’ve also learned how to ignore them. It doesn’t take him long to settle down; just a few quiet words and he lays his head against my chest. I take him to the wall and point at the picture.

“That’s Daddy’s sister.” I tell him about that day, the fun we had. “Her name is Christina Leeann Decker, but I always called her Trina.”

He quiets down as I move on to the next. “That’s my grandpa. He taught me how to fish when I wasn’t much older than you are now.”

Addy joins us as I continue on, pointing from one picture to the other. “That’s my dad right there. If I’m not mistaken, this was taken right before he met Mom, so he was probably around twenty-three at the time.”

“Who’s the guy beside him?” she asks, staring intently at the picture.

“My uncle Michael. He was a bit of a hermit, the odd ball of the family. He never got into the family business or the money, decided to be a miner instead,” I tell her, a smile spreading across my face. “This is probably one of the only pictures there are of the two of them together as adults. They didn’t get along one fucking bit. Dad hated him, but he was my favorite uncle. He taught me how to catch a ball, how to shoot a gun, all that kind of shit.”

“Have you contacted him since you got out?” she asks, her eyes coming to me.

“No, I haven’t,” I reply, wondering why the hell not. “I may do that someday.”

Going down the wall, I keep pointing from one picture to another. “That’s my parents’ wedding day. They both look so damn young.”

Addy smiles, reaching up and touching my face. “I always wondered where you got those beautiful eyes. Now I know they were a gift from your mother.”

I lift my chin at her and shoot her a wink, then go back to the pictures. I stop when I see a picture of Trina and me, the night of the party. The night that changed my life. I brace myself, waiting for the pain to hit me. Instead, I feel nothing but a dull ache for all the years I have lost to anger and regret. Reaching out, I jerk it from the wall and walk back to the table.

After sitting Cam back in his seat and waiting for him to dig into his ice-cream, I lay the picture on the table and stare at it. “This was taken the night Trina was raped. In fact, that picture was taken maybe two hours before I found her.”

Addy grabs my hand, giving it another squeeze. “I’m sorry. We shouldn’t have come here. It was a bad idea.”

“No, it wasn’t,” I say with a shake of my head. “Look at us. Look at how happy we were.”

She does as asked, running her hand over the glass. “She’s absolutely stunning. I should’ve known, since her brother is the sexiest man I’ve ever seen.”

“I forgot how happy we were, before all this shit happened,” I say, lost in the image in front of me and the memories it invokes. “There’re a lot of bad memories in my past, things I’d rather forget, but there are also more than a few good ones.”

Looking up, I lean across the table and give her a quick kiss. “Thank you for reminding me of them.”

Addy
Twenty-Four Years Old

THE SOUNDS
of motorcycles pulling into the driveway fill the house, letting me know my man is home. The boys have been in Kentucky the last three days, visiting another club. Of course, Trix and I have no idea what’s going on. Even after being with Brew for four years, he doesn’t tell me anything about club business. I used to ask, and it would always lead to a fight. After talking to Trix about it, I learned the fights were all my fault. Good old ladies don’t ask questions, and I’m a good old lady.

A smile spreads across my face as I place a basket of rolls on the table and look over my shoulder at Trix. “They’re back.”

“About damn time,” she says, as she sets the mashed potatoes beside the rolls and places a hand on her nearly ready-to-pop stomach. “I hate it when Boz is gone.”

“Maddy,” Cam shouts, running as fast as his short legs will take him. “Daddy’s home.”

At nearly four, he’s a ball of energy. He’s also Brew’s shadow. Cameron started calling Brew Daddy as soon as he learned to talk. He tried to call me Mama a time or two, but I just couldn’t let him do it. My sister may be gone, but she was his Mama, and that is a privilege that needed to be reserved for her. It took some time, but he finally came up with a name for me. Maddy—Mama and Addy mixed together. It’s perfect, absolutely perfect.

As he streaks by, I issue an order that he has heard time and time again. “Stay inside until all the bikes are parked.”

He doesn’t stop running as he replies, “I know that already.”

With both of Blake’s parents dead and no siblings, there was no one around to fight me for custody of Cam. It was as simple as having a lawyer draw up some papers and waiting for the judge to approve it. It took a few months, but it happened, and he has been legally my son since he was four months old. A year later, Brew adopted him and gave Cam his last name. Even though I was already deeply in love with Brew, I fell even more in love with him that day.

Trix was worried my parents would try to stop the adoption. It was one thing for me to gain custody of Cam, but a completely different one for a biker they hate to adopt him. I didn’t worry; I knew they’d keep their mouth shut and their noses out of our business.

After Brew and the boys paid my parents a visit, neither Mom nor Dad ever tried to contact me again, not even to see Cam. Other than occasionally running into them when Trix and I go back to visit her dad, I haven’t seen them at all. Even then, it’s nothing more than just passing by them at a restaurant or store. Those times have been few and far between. Just as I told Brew that day in the hospital, they’re not my parents anymore.

Trix shakes her head as she turns back to the kitchen. “I hope this baby is a little calmer than Cam. If not, I’m gonna lose my fucking mind.”

“I heard that, Aunt Trix,” Cam shouts as he opens the door and steps out on the porch.

Trix and I both laugh as we walk into the kitchen and grab the rest of the food. A couple of other old ladies are here, helping us get everything together. We’re just finishing setting it on the table when Brew walks in carrying Cam on his shoulders. He comes straight to me, pulling Cam off him as he leans down and places a kiss my lips.

“Missed you, Red.” His hands go directly to my stomach, reminding me of why we invited everyone here tonight.

It’s time to tell them our news, tell them about the baby we have been keeping a secret. This is my second pregnancy since Brew slid his ring on my finger over three years ago. The first ended with a miscarriage that damn near killed me in both body and mind. It took months for my body to recuperate enough to even try again. Even then, Brew refused. He said I needed time for my heart to heal. With his and Cam’s help, it didn’t take long at all.

In fact, all it took was Cam calling me Maddy for the first time. It was at that moment, that very second, I realized my sister gave me a son to love and cherish as my own. I also realized that I had given her the same thing. My beautiful Alex now has a child to love and cherish as her own. There’s no doubt in my mind that she’s in heaven, holding mine and Brew’s little angel in her arms.

When Brew and I started trying again, it didn’t happen nearly as quickly as it did the first time. In fact, we tried for nearly seven months before we saw a plus sign again. Brew wanted to tell everyone as soon as we found out, but I wanted to keep it our secret for just a little while. If this pregnancy ended the same way as the first, I wouldn’t be able to stand the look of pity in their eyes. But just two days ago, we passed the first trimester milestone, something that never happened last time.