by Joy Blood
“Whatever you are cooking is going to make it better,” I tell her, shedding my cut and hanging it over my chair at the kitchen table—another action that has become second nature since we started playing house, our time being split between here and the clubhouse.
“It’s just fajitas. Nothing fancy.” She shoots a bright smile at me the closer I get, then lifts onto her tiptoes and places a kiss on my mouth. “Your face is cold,” she points out, then reaches up with her hand to smooth out my growing beard. “Been riding?” She turns around and continues to get our dinner ready. I hum my response and start helping her by getting out the plates and taking the tortillas from the microwave.
“You seem to be in a much better mood. Talking to Berta help?” I take a seat at the table as she brings the food and places it down.
She nods and looks up at me. “Yes. It did.” Her smile is soft as she pauses just long enough for me to reach out and pull her to my lap.
“Good. I’m glad talking to her is helping.” There is sorrow in her eyes, and I don’t even have to ask why. I know Berta’s story. “Thank you for making dinner.” My hands stroke up her sides over the t-shirt.
“You’re welcome. I had to beg Weezer to stop at the store after picking me up.” She giggles.
“Yeah? Might have to get you a car.”
“Oh no. You don’t need to—”
“Not a big deal, baby. After we get back from the rally, we’ll look for one, yeah?” I don’t give her any chance to deny the car again and bring her lips to mine with my palm to the back of her head. The kiss only confirms what I already know to be true. Vera is mine, and no damn abusive asshole fiancé will ever take her away from me.
I let Vera take her own seat. We both start eating while she talks about this and that, completely unaware of the shitstorm I keep forcing from my mind. It won’t stay away. Each time I look at her, I see her standing next to her fiancé, full of his baby. The rounded stomach gave her such a glow, making her look that much more beautiful. Then the article comes booming into my thoughts. The baby. Realization hits me. The panic attacks she would have each time family or children were brought up. Something terrible happened, so terrible, she went off the rails and wound up in a whole other state addicted to smack. I can’t ask her about it, now that she’s doing so well. It’s been months since I found her in the apartment complex, and she’s been clean and sober. Asking her about it now would only result a setback, and I’m not going to cause one.
“Nate.” Her voice breaks into my thoughts. “Hey, what’s going on? You’ve been…off since you walked in.”
“Yeah, just a long day, babe. This is good.” I take another bite of my fajita. It tastes amazing, but settles like lead at the bottom of my stomach.
When we finish, I don’t let her clean even one dish, telling her to go take a bath and relax. I use the time to cool myself down, then call Boyd. He’s all too excited to see me tomorrow at the rally. Just hearing his voice brings me into a state of calm and leaves me lighter by the time I hang up the phone.
The sound of the shower running pricks my ears, and with it comes the hardening of my cock. She’s in there, naked and wet, just how I like her. Needing to be next to her, inside her, I strip off my clothes on the way to the bathroom. The door has been left unlocked and opened a crack, most likely an invitation—one I will gladly take to rid myself of the newly found knowledge about my woman. And she is my woman. She may have been engaged at some point in her life, but as far as I’m concerned, she isn’t anymore. She chose to stay here with me, maybe not in the beginning, but this is where she wants to be. After she sobered up, she had the option to call him or her parents, but she didn’t. She chose me. So, I’m going to do the same: choose her and leave her past in the past, where it belongs.
The sweet, tangy scent of her bodywash fills the air, along with the thick steam of the shower as I step into the bathroom. She always has the water so fucking hot, I can barely see through the room. More steam billows out from the shower when I open the glass door. Her naked back is to me, and I take in every delectable inch. The roundness of her hips, the dip of her back, the two small dimples that have deepened since she got here. She is a damn vision. When she turns around, I nearly drop to my knees to worship at her feet. “You, Vera, are a fucking goddess,” I declare, getting her blue eyes to sparkle before I bring my mouth down on hers. Somewhere behind me, the glass door slams shut, and I back her against the wall, my mouth still firmly attached to hers, breaking every so often to tell her how beautiful she is, how crazy she makes me.
“Nate,” she whimpers between breaths.
“Gotta taste you, V. Been too long, baby,” I groan, then reluctantly leave her mouth in search of something else—something that would drive any sane man mad. My knees hit the floor, bringing my face level with her neatly trimmed pussy. The sight makes my cock stiffen to unbearable lengths. It’s going to have to wait, though. I need a mouthful of my woman as much as I need my next breath, maybe even more. I waste no time hitching one of her legs over my shoulder, then skim my beard and teeth along the inside of her leg, causing her to nearly buckle.
“Grab the bar, baby. Can’t have you falling over on me.” I chuckle, but don’t wait to see if she listens before melding my mouth to her sweet fucking cunt. The mewls and cries that come from her are music to my ears. I laugh, causing vibrations to roll along her clit when she tries to grab at my hair. She won’t find any hair on my head; I just had it cut two days ago, leaving my scalp buzzed. Her nails rake along my head, sending jolts straight to my dick, and I lick harder at her budding clit.
“Oh, Nate, I’m going to come.” I growl my approval as I feel her body tense. At the last second, I press in two fingers to fill her up, and she clamps down on them so fucking hard, I think she might break them. I keep pumping in and out, until the little flutters from her orgasm die down and her body starts to go limp above me. Letting her leg back to the floor, I stand, keeping her hips firmly in my grip. The water hits my back, directing the spray elsewhere so I can look down at the beauty before me. Goddess is the right word for her.
My fucking goddess.
No one else’s.
Thirty-Eight
The ride out to the campground is long in the truck, but it goes by that much quicker with Vera at my side. I watch her as she spends most of the drive scanning through the radio stations, only staying long enough for a song, then to see what’s on next. “You going to just pick a station? Same shit on every channel. Noisy women bitchin’ about men and men singing about dirt roads and beer.”
Her husky laugh makes my cock twitch. “That’s the best description I’ve heard.”
“Accurate enough,” I grunt, smiling at her before bringing my eyes back to the road.
“Well, what kind of music do you like?”
“None.”
“None? How is that even possible? Everyone likes music. It’s practically inhuman to dislike music.” She wrinkles her cute brows at me and reaches to flick through the stations once again.
“Didn’t say I dislike it. Just don’t listen to it.”
“That’s too bad.” The mock pouty face she shoots me evokes the urge to reach over and grab her thigh, which I give into. She lets out a squeal, and I lose slight grip of the wheel. The truck swerves to the right enough to hit the rumble strips, causing the truck to vibrate.
“Shit,” I hiss, then jerk my hand and the vehicle back on track. “Quit provoking me, woman. You are going to get us both killed,” I joke. Before she can respond, the CB flares up and Wick’s voice comes through.
“Gettin’ roadhead, Pres?” Vera’s eyes grow wide, making my chest fill with laughter.
Reaching down, I grab the mic and hold down the button. “Fuck off. There was a dog in the road. Ya didn’t see it?” Jesus, I’m setting up myself for whatever he says next. On long trips, our helmets are all fitted with headsets to communicate with one another, leaving the CB radios in the vehicles so the drivers inside
the cages aren’t left out of the loop. Normally, it would be a prospect driving and me on my bike, but with Vera and the few hours we needed to be on the road, I opted to drive.
“Whatever you say, Pres,” Wick laughs into the speaker.
“Going to stop off here at the next gas station. Gotta piss. I’ll catch up.” Hank’s voice crackles over the speaker not long after Wick goes quiet.
“Need someone to stop with you, Hank. Know how it is this far from home.” I don’t get an answer, but Wick clicks on, saying he’ll stop with Hank. They are both ahead of us, about two to three miles, with numerous brothers in between. About an hour ago, our little convoy grew when some of the Riders joined in.
“Actually, I could use the bathroom,” Vera speaks up, and I shake my head.
“You women,” I grumble. “All right. I’ll stop.” Getting back on the CB, I let them all know I’m stopping off.
We pull up to the gas station next to Wick’s bike. “Where the fuck is Hank?” I ask, stepping out to find Wick coming from inside the small store holding a bathroom key attached to a big ass toilet seat.
“Shit. Don’t know. He was out here when I went in.” Wick looks around as if Hank is just going to appear. “Fucking weird. You need this, Vera?” he asks, holding out the key. She shoots him a shy smile and takes the key, then heads around the building toward the bright red arrow pointing out the restroom.
“He say anything? Why the hell would he take off?”
“Not a fucking clue. He was acting all pissy when I pulled up behind him. Said he didn’t need a babysitter. Fucker knows the rules for road trips.” Scratching at my beard, I look back the way Vera went. Damn, women take long in the bathrooms. I’m about to go searching after her when she finally comes walking around the corner, the seat gripped in her hand, white knuckled. Instantly, I’m moving toward her, ready to rip off whoever’s head who might have dared fuck with her.
“V, baby, you all right?” Her eyes flick to me, then to Wick, who’s right on my heels. Then she fucking smiles. She is about to lie to me, and damn if it doesn’t hurt deep down in my soul.
“I’m okay. Just had a little panic attack is all. I got past it, though.” She offers up a fake, triumphant smile, then hands over the key to Wick. “Thank you for letting me use it first. Didn’t know how bad I needed to go.” She gives a dry chuckle, then starts back to the truck. Before I can go after her, the rumble of a bike flows through my ears, and Hank pulls up to me and Wick, cutting his engine.
“The fuck were you?” I was so damn distracted by Vera, I didn’t even notice where the hell the bastard came from.
“Sorry, Pres. Thought I saw something,” Hank offers up the lame excuse, then reaches out to grab the key still in Wick’s grip.
“You saw something? The fuck, Hank? You left me standing here with my dick in my hand wondering where the fuck you went,” Wick barks out. Hank laughs, then snatches the key away.
“Sorry, brother. Damn, if I knew you were that hard up for some attention—”
“Fuck off, asshole. Hurry the fuck up. I want to get back on the road,” Wick snaps, looking as if he might go after Hank for trying a joke at his expense. “Prick,” Wick mutters when Hank leaves.
“Something ain’t right there. Keep a close eye on him this weekend. Fucking know we don’t need any shit popping up at the rally. Gives us a bad fucking name, and we are too far from home to be stirring shit.” Wick nods in agreement and claps me on the back before I head to the truck, ready to find out what the hell happened to trigger panic in Vera.
Thirty-Nine
I force myself to calm when I see Nate walking back to the truck. What I walked around the corner and saw wasn’t as bad as the man who held me to the wall and said he would kill me if I told Pres. “You sure you’re all right, baby?” Nate’s comforting voice comes into the truck when he opens the door, situating his massive body behind the wheel once again.
“I’m sure. Really. It was the bathroom, I guess.” I pull the lie out. I actually didn’t even go inside the bathroom, the need to pee not even registering after being scared for my life. “Just reminded me of something.” I let out a shiver and rub at my arms, wishing I was faking the discomfort too. That man’s voice resonated deep in my memory. I swear I’ve heard it before; I just can’t pinpoint where. Nate nods, seemingly accepting my explanation, and puts the truck back on the road.
“We have about an hour more to go. Probably should get back to scanning those stations again. Might be a long, quiet drive if you don’t,” he jokes after we are on the highway for a while. I hadn’t even noticed the radio wasn’t on. Too busy staring out the window and trying to control my body shakes.
“Oh, yeah.” He has to see through my fake smile, but still he lets it go and laughs when I turn it to some song about corn making whiskey. I push away the memory of what happened at the gas station, convincing myself the man was just startled and panicked.
Just panicked. That’s all.
The ride, like Nate said, is only about an hour more, and by the time we reach our destination, my bladder is near bursting. “There is a big shower-slash-facility building over there.” Nate points out the buildings on the campground. “They have a kitchen of sorts over there too, it mainly gets used for breakfast. Place used to be a fairground until the small town stopped having the fair, so they made it into a campground.” Nate rounds the truck to start pulling out the camping gear.
“I’m—” I start to tell Nate I’m going to use the restroom when someone comes walking up to us.
“I was wondering when you were going to show up.” A woman’s soft laughter comes floating into my ears, along with the gleeful squeal of a boy who yells out, “Daddy!” and throws himself into Nate’s waiting arms.
“Hey there, little man. I didn’t know you were here already.”
“Mommy wanted to get the spot closest to the big building,” the little boy explains, showing off the small gap in his teeth. He is a miniature version of Nate, and just looking at them both, I feel as if my heart might burst inside my chest. I had no idea his son would be here.
“Yeah. Not that it matters with that big ass fifth-wheel camper she made me get.” A man comes up beside the woman, who is clearly the little boy’s mother. The same woman from the picture in Nate’s apartment. The one who got away. I shake away the thought just in time for Nate to catch my attention.
“Hey, Vera. This is my son, Boyd. Boyd this is Vera,” he introduces me to his son, who looks up at me wide-eyed. He then bends toward his father, who’s squatting down to his height, and says something in his ear. “Yeah, she is.” I catch Nate whispering back before he stands. “Vera, this is Ari and Rico.”
All I can do is wave and give a squeak of a, “Hi,” but Ari doesn’t let me get away with it. “It’s so good to meet you.” She comes toward me, and before I know it, I’m engulfed in her arms, being hugged against my will. I let it happen, though, oddly comforted by her genuine affection. When she pulls back, she goes to Rico’s side, who I just now realize is holding a car seat. My heart stalls out in my chest as if it were a boat propeller being halted from forward and switched into reverse.
“You too.” I push the words past my too dry throat and dart a glance over to the building promising a bathroom to hide in. “If you’ll excuse me. It was a long ride here. I need to use the bathroom.” Luckily, I only get friendly smiles in return as I leave the small gathering. I don’t even chance a look back to Nate, who I already know is staring holes in the back of my head. I don’t let it stop me, though. My pace quickens to the large building. Throwing the door open, I find a stall and do my business. I stay inside a while longer, forcing my hands to stop shaking while cursing myself for freaking out at the sight of a baby. I thought maybe I could get past…well, my past. I guess that’s an inconceivable notion.
How can I ever be with Nate if I can’t get a grip on myself?
Forty
“You didn’t tell her we were going to be h
ere, did you?” Ari scolds as I watch Vera all but run away from us. Shit, I fucked that one bad.
“I was going to. When are you ever early to anything? I was expecting to have more time to tell her.”
“And the four hours driving here was…what? Too short?” Damn this woman and her sass.
“Rico, if I haven’t said it before, I will say it now. You are one lucky man.” He lets out a laugh and grabs Ari to his side, tucking her in close.
“Not your business, Ree. Let the man deal with his own,” he tells her, getting a pout in return.
“Fine.”
“Thank you. Now, I need to get the tent set up. You sleeping in the tent with me tonight, little man?” Boyd is all too eager to help set up the tent as his mom and Rico take the baby around to the others to show her off. The tent is big, four rooms. I sure as shit don’t need all this space, but when I decided to take Vera and knew Boyd would be spending at least one night with us, I decided to go grab the biggest tent I could find.
“Mommy made Rico buy a camper. It has a shower and a big TV inside. I can even watch netflips on it.”
“It’s Netflix, buddy. And tell your mom that ain’t camping, it’s just pulling an apartment somewhere else for the weekend.” I laugh, because knowing Boyd, it will be the first thing out of his mouth when his mother comes back to get him.
“Dad, she’s coming back,” Boyd whispers, coming to my side. I look up to see Vera walking our way, and smile at my son’s shyness toward my girl.
“Hi. Sorry I ran off like that. All better now.” She grins down at my boy, who I swear turns a bright shade of red. I think he has himself a little crush. Like father like son. He has good taste. “That is a huge tent. Wow.” Her eyes flick around the half erect gray and orange tent.