MC Chronicles: The Diary of Bink Cummings: Vol 2: (Motorcycle Club Romance Novel) (9 page)

BOOK: MC Chronicles: The Diary of Bink Cummings: Vol 2: (Motorcycle Club Romance Novel)
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My sisters and I do the girl thing and crowd ourselves
into a spot on the side of the dance floor. They let the liquor control their
actions while I fake self-confidence, forgetting that I have a small watermelon
protruding from my abdomen. A watermelon that’s kicking me as I sway my hips, and
sensually glide my hands down my sides, over my wide hips, and around my ass,
where I sexually grind against my imaginary partner, lip-syncing to Def
Leppard’s,
Pour Some Sugar On Me
.

Lost in some sort of out of body experience, I close
my eyes drifting off to the song, and I let myself go. My fingers run through
my hair as my hips and ass work on their own accord, rocking to the beat of the
music.

This feels amazing.

The erotic vibrations of the music seep into my veins,
and I don’t stop as the next song,
Livin’ on
a Prayer,
tugs a smile on my lips. One of my friends bumps into my
side and quickly apologizes.

“It’s okay,” I yell over the crowd, and return to
lip-syncing.

Pony
by Genuine is next to feed my sensual dance-a-thon. Thanks to Brew and Jizz, my
brothers, I know this song by heart. I caught my brother Brew making out with
all of his teenage girlfriends to this song. Even walked in on him fucking one
of them in his clubhouse bedroom with the door wide-open. This song serenaded
their primal acts of passion through his boom box CD player that sat on the
floor next to his unframed bed. I forgot about that night until now. Cindy Jane
was her name. Pretty, carrot top girl with freckles for miles, and itty-bitty
titties. Way less boobs than I had, even in the fourth grade. What can I say? I
was an early developer.

Perspiration beads on the back of my neck and my
forehead dampens. I peek out to see my friends dancing right alongside me.
Jezebel must have left and acquired herself another drink. Debbie is a bit
awkward, as a boy in his early twenties tries to get her to dance with him.
Flashing him her wedding band doesn’t seem to deter the tall, ruggedly handsome
boy, as he shrugs palms up, mouthing, “So what?”

I know Debbie well enough to know
she’s too nice, so I dance a few steps to her, grab her hand, and pull her with
me, while waving bye-bye to the cute boy.

“Thank you,” she yells in my ear.

“You’re welcome,” I yell back, my hips never stopping
as they dance, taking on a mind all their own.

Debbie stands beside me resuming her own odd way of
dancing, but her eyes widen in a mix of interest and fear as she anxiously
grins, looking over my shoulder. I turn and look where her eyes are directed.
Then I spot him, a tall handsome man, messy blonde hair, green eyes, tatted
arms, and a leather cut over his Harley shirt. I’d recognize him anywhere.

With a naughty smile, I turn and saunter toward him,
swaying my hips sexily to the beat of the song. Stopping toe-to-toe, I grin up
and grab both sides of his cut, tugging him into to a hug.

“Hey, hot stuff.” I tease, wrapping my arms around his
neck.

Bending down to meet my height, his
hands find the low curve of my back. He holds me there, as I feel his nose
stuff into my hair, scenting me. A shiver of something I shouldn’t be feeling
shoots straight to my core as my fingers tangle in the loose hairs at the nape
of his neck. Deke smells delicious.

Why is he here?

I turn my head and speak into his ear to ask him as
much. His hot sensuous breath is strangely coming out in quick bursts bathing
my neck. As the sudden wetness of his thick tongue licks from my collarbone to
my ear, I suppress a groan. Nobody has touched me this erotically in what feels
like a lifetime. “I won’t tell if you won’t,” he whispers, kissing the
sensitive flesh under my ear.

Dear God he’s giving me just what I need when I need
it. How did he know?

“Okay,” I shakily gulp.

Before I can process what’s
happening, Deke grabs hold of my hand and tugs me through the throng of
gyrating bodies toward the back of the club. Kicking the exit door open with
his boot, a blast of chilly air smacks me in the face. I shiver, turning the
corner to walk up the deserted alley, high on excitement. I open my mouth to
speak just when he shoves me against the brick wall, and his hard body
instantly presses to mine, knocking the wanton breath from my lungs, as his
hard cock brushes my belly through his jeans.

“Whh—why—” I stutter.

“Why am I here?” he bends down,
taking what he wants from me. His mouth latches onto my neck, ravenously
kissing and licking it. My toes curl in my shoes as my hands instinctively
thread into the back of his hair, holding him to my needy skin.

“Yes,” I moan, as his hand glides
over my hip and grabs a handful of my ass.

“Yes… more? Or yes, you want to know
why I’m here?” he teases, never breaking his hot mouth from my neck.

“Yes to both.” My breasts thrust on
their own accord, and my nipples turn hard as stone, eager to be sucked.

Oh, it’s been so long since they’ve actually been sucked.

Deke pecks my neck, then brushes the
shell of my ear with his bottom lip, “Gunz called to check on you, and he said
your GPS was at some bar, so I came to check it out. Then we got to talkin’ on
my drive here, and I found out more about this man you’re seein’. I decided
he’s a tool, just like Gunz said he was. Then I came in and saw you dancing,
wearing this hot as hell dress.” His hand grips my ass harder. “Got stiff and
decided what the hell. What’s the worst you could do? Tell me no?”

“The worst?” I taunt with a dark
grin, forcefully tugging his hair to get my point across. He grunts from the
sharp pain. “Would be to get you kicked out of the club for touching the
president’s baby’s mama. But I could just turn around and let you fuck me.”

Holy fucking shit! Did I just say
that? I swear I haven’t touched alcohol all night.

“Fuck! You ain’t gotta tell me
twice.” Deke kisses my neck once more, and pushes off me. Standing up straight,
he tugs his wallet from his pocket, retrieves a condom and rips off the wrapper
with his teeth, spitting the trash on the gravel. Unzipping his fly, he pulls
out his cock and slides on the condom. I watch in fascination and internal
shock for what is about to happen, as the alley lights and moon illuminate us,
casting a soft glow.

I am going to fuck Deke. A real biker. That is a Sacred
Sinner and not Big.

I swallow hard, staring straight at
the thick veiny cock in his hand.

“You like it?” he winks, stepping
forward and boxing me in.

What am I doing? I am dating vanilla Marshall. I like
Marshall. But fuck
… I lick my lips, watching that dick.
I want a dick like that.
Saliva pools in
my mouth.
Not Marshall’s average thing. I want
one like Deke’s.

A strange pain that takes my breath
away shoots to my heart, and I groan in discomfort rubbing my chest. I don’t
want Deke’s dick. I want Big’s big dick.

My daughter kicks, as if she knows
what I am feeling. I put my hand to Deke’s chest and frown as I meet his heavy
lidded eyes.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I can’t.”

“Because of that tool?” I can sense
the hint of anger and disappointment in Deke’s voice, masked by his level
expression.

I shake my head, “No.”

“Then why?”

“Because I…”

How do I explain this? Do I tell him
because I have feelings for Big, and he should be the only true biker I ever
sleep with? I never thought of it that way before, but I guess that’s the
truth. Even though Big and I only had sex that one time, it changed me forever.
I can’t taint that memory of my family, my biker family, with another man’s
cock. Marshall’s is different. I can’t say why, it just is. He’s not a biker;
he’s safe, and unable to taint that memory because he is so different. Deke was
born and bred from the same cloth as Big, Gunz, and the rest of my beloved
family. This is wrong.

“Because you’re in love with my
president,” Deke states. It’s not a question.

Deke removes the condom and buttons
back up. “It’s okay if you are,” he says with a sweet smile, tossing the trash
on the ground and grabbing hold of my hand. Threading his fingers through mine,
he lifts my hand to his lips and kisses my knuckles. “I promise I won’t tell,”
he winks.

His genuine kindness cracks the
tiniest fraction of a smile from my lips. “I don’t know what I am. But I do
know that I can’t have sex with you. Not that you aren’t handsome,” he kisses
my knuckles again, “or that I don’t want to.” He shyly grins and kisses them
again. “I just know from experience that if any of them found out that you
slept with me, in particular Gunz or Big, you would probably be castrated on
the spot. Viper, one of your new brothers… well… he flirted with me, and Big
had him apologizing on his knees.”

“Seriously?” He perks up a curious
brow, part of his face hidden behind our combined hands, lips brushing my
knuckles.

I chuckle and nod. “Yes, seriously.
In front of the entire club.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah.”

“That man does love you.”

Wildly, I shake my head. “No, no he
doesn’t. He just likes to have order and hold control over everything and
everyone. He’s got a woman now anyhow.”

I hope I sound as dismissive as I
think I do. I don’t want Deke thinking I’m all heart broken and shit. Because
I’m not. I’m the one that left to be replaced by a blonde that looks just like
me. Fuck! There goes that knot of pain in my chest again. Inhaling deeply, I
wash the feeling away.

“That don’t mean shit. I have a bitch
of an old lady, and here I am standing in an alley wanting to fuck a hot
pregnant woman, who happens to work for me, and is the unofficial queen of the
chapter I am movin’ to patch into.”

“Who told you I was the queen?”

“Gunz.”

“So Gunz is also the one who asked
you to keep an eye on me too? He tapped my phone.”

This doesn’t really surprise me. It is
Gunz after all.

“He didn’t tap it; he applied a
tracker. And I wasn’t ordered to keep an eye on you, I offered. That’s why I
followed you here,” he shifts, shoving his hands into his pockets and rocking
back on his heels.

“I thought you said Gunz told you
where I was so you came.”

“I was already in town. I drove in
after you left this mornin’, just in case you needed me. Gunz called and told
me you were goin’ out with the sisters, and I told him where I was. This club
here,” he points to the building at my back, “I’ve heard has gang activity, and
I didn’t want ya gettin’ into something without protection.”

What the hell ever. “Seriously? I
carry a gun in my purse. And I am fairly certain I am a better shot than almost
all the men I know.”

Deke scowls, “Yes, but you are also
pregnant with
my
president’s
baby. We might be the only people who know—”

“That baby is Big’s!!??” The sound of
Candy Cane screeching has me jumping out of my skin as she jogs up the
deserted, dimly lit alley toward us, alone, wearing her jeans and sparkling
boob shirt. “The baby isn’t Marshall’s?”

“No,” Deke confirms, side stepping to
make room for Candy Cane in our circle. “It’s Big’s, but no one knows besides
us.”

“Does Marshall know?” she excitedly
asks.

“Know what?” I inquire.

“That your daughter isn’t his.”

You have got to be kidding me!? Did she seriously just ask
that?

“Yeah! What kind of woman do you take
me for?” In agitation, I run my hands through my hair. “He knew I was pregnant
when we started dating. He’s the one who knew I was pregnant before I did.” A
flash of that night and the following morning comes flooding back. Bathroom.
Hysterical crying. The world crashing around me. A supportive man to hold my
hand through it all…What a crazy day.

“I didn’t think you’d lead a man on,
but ya never know. Desperate times and all.” She tries to sound indifferent, it
doesn’t work.

“Are you tryin’ to insult me?” I tilt
my head to the side with attitude, surveying her like she’s gone and lost her
damn mind. “I like Marshall, but I don’t love him. If I loved someone, maybe I
would act differently. And you can’t tell anyone. Not Jez, not Pix, not Deb,
not Tripper, not a soul. We clear?”

She nods without argument and crosses
her finger of her heart. “Promise. But you need to tell Big
eventually
.” She enunciates like it’s
going to will me into giving up the goods. Fat chance.

“Big has a replacement Bink, you said
so yourself. As long as my daughter is healthy, who her father is irrelevant.
I’m her mother, and I will be the one to protect and care for her for the rest
of my life.” My hand reaches down to rub my tummy. I’ve said my peace. I won’t
open this up for discussion.

Maneuvering around Deke and Candy
Cane, I wave, “Come on,” and walk ahead of them up the alley. “Let’s get back
inside. I’m fucking cold.”

My rampant hormones have simmered to
a dull ache instead of a fiery inferno of hot molten lust. Deke is a sexy man,
and I’m a horny woman. Oh the naughty things I could do to that hot biker.
Fucking him against a brick wall in a back alley…yeah, that would have been a
highlight of my life. Too bad.

Slumping through the front doors of
the club, I meet up with the girls, who have made their way back to our booth.

“I think it’s time for us to head.” I
stand at the edge of the table and thumb point toward the door, with Deke
standing at my back.

“Aww, already?” A drunken Jezebel
whines.

I nod, “Yup, I’m tired, too tired to stay, and this
dance club shit ain’t really my thing.”

My Sacred Sisters slide out of the booth and say our
goodbyes with warm hugs and they offer a friendly wave to Deke. Just before our
departure, I give Candy Cane one last look to make sure she’s sworn to secrecy.
The finger she crosses over her heart again, confirms my trust. At least I know
she won’t spill the baby beans.

BOOK: MC Chronicles: The Diary of Bink Cummings: Vol 2: (Motorcycle Club Romance Novel)
5.15Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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