by Voss, Deja
“Maybe later,” I say. “First, I need some pancakes.”
Who needs a fancy wedding reception when the best diner in town is only a block from the courthouse? The first stop on our road trip is going to be about a five-hour drive away, just the two of us on his bike and the wind in my hair. I love the idea of spending all day wrapped around him, putting all my trust in him as we head off into the unknown.
* * *
I don’t remember the last time I saw the ocean. I definitely have never been on a traditional vacation, and neither has Brooks. When it comes to the Mountain Misfits, every trip is a family trip, but it’s usually to one rally or another for a week of partying, or something involving business.
This trip, though, is strictly pleasure. We don’t have any solid plans, just driving down the coast, going wherever the wind decides to blow us on that particular day. We are free to go wherever we want, do whatever we want, with nothing but a backpack full of essentials and a pocket full of cash.
“This place is amazing,” I say, as we pull into the driveway of the Beach Bottom Bed-and-Breakfast. The smell of the salty ocean hangs heavy in the air, and the way the sun bakes the skin on the back of my neck and shoulders makes me feel like, even though we’re only two states away from our home, that I’m somewhere exotic. The little cottage sits right on the beach and has a big private backyard area with a fire pit and a swimming pool. It’s tiny, but definitely luxurious looking. “Do you think they have any open rooms?”
“No,” he says to me, grinning from ear to ear, grabbing our backpack and putting his arm around my waist. My legs feel wobbly from the ride, and I rest my head on his shoulder.
“Well that’s a bummer. What are we doing here?”
“I got the place for the weekend,” he says, ushering me up onto the wraparound front porch.
“How’d you pull that off on such short notice?” I ask. I’m pretty impressed. I assumed this trip was going to be full of crappy one-star hotels miles away from the shore, and honestly, that’s more than enough for this girl. Its prime-time beachgoing season, and it was just yesterday we decided to throw caution to the wind and go on this adventure.
“I have connections, you know,” he says, flexing his bicep, showing off his Misfits tattoo. “I called in a favor. Told Rodger I needed a place to impress my girlfriend for a few days. Something that’ll melt her panties right off.”
“Well, when’s she getting here? I’d hate to interrupt ,” I say, laughing. He picks up a little frog statue off the porch and grabs the key out of the trap door in the bottom. He swings open the door, and the first thing I notice is rose petals littering the floor, littering a path straight up the wooden stairs. “You must really be trying to impress this broad.”
“Hey, I wasn’t sure you were actually going to follow through, you know. I figured you’d come to your senses before I could con you into signing that paper. Worst-case scenario, I was going to just come here by myself and drown my sorrows in strawberries and champagne. If I’m gonna be crying into a pillow, I’d prefer it was somewhere no one would ever expect to find me.”
“Strawberries and champagne?” I ask. I don’t think I’ve ever seen the man eat a piece of fruit in my entire life. I sure as hell have never seen him drink champagne.
“Beer and oysters?”
“That sounds a little more like my speed.”
“Well, you can have whatever you want, Esther, at least, as soon as I get what I want.”
“And what’s that?” I ask seductively, batting my eyelids at him. He runs his fingers through my hair, kissing me on the neck. A moan escapes my lips, the feeling of his beard brushing up against my collarbone instantly stirring up a fire deep in my core.
“I want to carry you up those steps and rip your clothes off,” he says. “Then I want to fuck you so hard that you can’t run away from me.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Brooks,” I whisper.
“You’re right,” he says, tossing me over his shoulder without even struggling. His strength overwhelms me in all the best possible ways, knowing that, soon, that strong hard body of his is going to be pressed up against mine. “I know I promised you I’d never let anyone kidnap you ever again, but it’s going to be really hard for me to not keep you locked up in the bedroom with me all weekend.”
“We don’t have to stay locked up in the bedroom, you know,” I say as he carries me up the steps. “We have a whole house to ourselves. We have a whole beach to ourselves. The options are endless, Brooks.”
“Wait ’til you see this bedroom,” he says. “You just might change your tune.”
He follows the path of rose petals and I try to stifle my giggles the whole way. I’m feeling kind of ridiculous letting him carry me. He doesn’t have to. Honestly, I’m so ready to take him right now, all he’d have to do is look at me the right way and I’d melt into a puddle on the floor.
He sets me down at the foot of the king-sized bed and walks through the room, lighting a bunch of candles. The man knows me well. I do appreciate my candles. The sun is just starting to set over the water, the window in the bedroom the size of the entire wall, with a French door leading out to the balcony. It feels like we are right on the beach.
“No curtains, huh?” I laugh, thinking back to my little trailer and my Peeping Tom of a husband.
“There’s blinds, you perv,” he teases. “Want me to close them?”
“What do you think?” I ask, sliding my shirt up over my head, exposing my sheer white bra.
“I think you better lose those jeans before I rip them in half,” he growls in that commanding voice of his that turns my brain into mush. “I have been waiting all day to get you naked, Mrs. Harrison.” I slowly unbutton my jeans, sliding them down my legs as I watch him strip before me. I don’t care how many times I’ve seen him naked, his body is a work of art that takes my breath away every damn time he takes his shirt off.
The way his big solid chest is just that perfect amount of hairy that I can rake my fingers through. The way his abs feel up against my face as I kiss down them. His big thick thighs and that hard ass of his. There’s not one inch of him that I don’t love licking, exploring, feeling pressed up against my body.
His mouth.
Jesus Christ.
The way he starts behind my ear, licking and nibbling until I start to purr. He lays me back on the bed, my knees hanging off the side, and begins dragging his perfect mouth down my neck, sucking on my collarbone, certainly hard enough to leave a mark. I won’t complain. My body is his now, and it feels so fucking amazing that he isn’t afraid to kiss me how he wants to, bite me where he knows I like it, and take me however he sees fit. He doesn’t treat me like a porcelain doll. He treats me like his old lady, and I wouldn’t want it any other way.
His hand reaches for my breast, teasing my nipple between his fingers over the top of the thin fabric. He buries his bearded face in between my tits, squeezing them together, kissing my sensitive skin as he pulls open the clasp in the front.
My nipples are hardened peaks before he even has the chance to get them in his mouth, and I wrap my legs around his body, desperate for release, desperate to feel him inside me.
“You in a hurry, kitten?” he asks, smiling up at me. “I love seeing you so needy.”
He works his way down my stomach, dotting my belly with the kind of kisses that make me squeal, one part ticklish and one part torture. He roughly grabs for the waistband of my panties, sliding them down my thighs as I buck my hips to assist him in his efforts.
“I don’t know what the big deal is about an ocean view,” he says, parting my thighs. “I think I have the best view in the world right here.” All I can do is throw my head back and moan as he uses his tongue like a paintbrush, collecting my wetness and swirling it up and down my swollen mound. I’ve grown used to the brush burn between my thighs thanks to him, and I wrap my legs around his neck, letting him indulge in one of his favorite pastimes.
I
don’t know how I got so lucky. He flicks his tongue in and out of my dripping hole before pressing it into my clit hard, just the way I like it, my toes curling and my moans growing louder.
“Mmm, cum on my face,” he groans.
“Yes!” I scream, unable to contain the contractions in my core, bucking up against his mouth, pulling his long blond hair as he expertly draws the orgasm right out of me. “I’m gonna need you to fuck me now,” I say, still high as hell off of this lust ripping through me, not wanting to come down.
“That’s my girl.” He presses his lips to mine, infiltrating my mouth with his tongue. I can feel his rock-solid cock poking into my thigh, my hips rising to meet him, desperate to feel him inside me. “Get up,” he says. I stare up at him in confusion, but he guides me to the window overlooking the beach, pressing my body up against it as I look out into the ocean, the sight of the sun dipping down on the horizon enough to take my breath away.
He pins my hands to the glass, up over my head, as he slides inside me, filling me with his hard rod. I’m so wet, I take him in without resistance, groaning as his dick presses into my tender g-spot. It feels so dirty, being splayed out like this, even though I know no one can see us way up here. I don’t care either way.
Everyone in this town is a stranger. If they want to watch my gorgeous husband fuck me, by all means. I might be reformed, but the idea of it still turns me on. His thrusts are hard, and he grips me by my hips, pulling me into him as he slowly works his way in and out, our thighs slapping together with every movement. I can’t contain my screams, especially when he buries his face in my neck, biting into me just hard enough to get my attention in the best possible way. Nothing makes me wetter than the way he wants me, the way that he loses all control and fucks me stupid. I feel myself succumb to another orgasm, and as my core clenches around him, gripping him tight, he groans and pulls me into him, and I know he’s about to completely lose it.
“Fuck,” he growls in my ear. “You make me crazy, woman.”
“Cum inside me,” I plead. “I want to feel you.” He hugs me tight, unloading his hot seed deep inside my womb. My body relaxes into his arms, and I open my eyes with a sigh, staring out onto the beach.
I have to blink a few times. I know I’m drunk off his dick, but I’m pretty sure I’m not hallucinating.
“Is that?” I ask, pointing out into the horizon.
“Yeah. It’s a wild horse. This is their island. I know how much you love animal watching.” He slides out of me and takes me by the hand, leading me to the balcony door. We step outside into the warm salty air and watch as the horse grazes on some grass growing from a dune.
“Oh my God,” I whisper, watching as the big brown horse is joined by another, and then another. There’s even a baby foal trailing behind, and although it’s getting pretty dark, I can still make out the white spot on its head. “It’s amazing.”
I’m crying. I don’t know why, but I can’t hold back my tears. I’ve never known love like this before, even though it’s been right under my nose my entire life. I don’t know what I did to deserve this incredible man, and I will never forget this day for as long as I live.
“You’re amazing, Esther,” he says, wrapping his arms around my waist, kissing the top of my head. In this moment, I feel so connected. To him, my husband, to these horses running free, to the life that I have always dreamed of. In this moment, I am finally complete.
Epilogue
Brooks:
“Ready to get back to work, bud?” Gavin asks, slapping me on the back in the parking lot of the clubhouse.
Esther and I have been gone for the last month, road-tripping up and down the east coast, staying in shitty hotels, eating at tiny local diners, and jumping in the ocean together every chance we had. Married life has been great so far, even though we’ve been detached from our day-to-day reality. Neither one of us spoke a word about the events leading up to our honeymoon, but I can see it in the way she smiles to herself, the way the nightmares have stopped, the way she’s standing a little taller; she is the same girl I fell in love with way back when, and not just the broken shell of a woman her father made her into.
“I gotta tell you something first,” I say to him, “and you better not fucking hit me.”
“Listen, I already know you had sex with my sister. We all know,” he says, rolling his eyes.
“I did,” I assure him. “And also, I married her. In that order.” I hold up my left hand, showing him the black tattoo of her new initials on my ring finger. ELH. It’s official.
He looks like his jaw is going to hit the ground. “Shit, man,” he says. “I don’t know if I should congratulate you or kick you in the nuts. Why didn’t you tell us?”
I just shrug. “Guess we just wanted to have something for ourselves for a little bit. I don’t know how to explain it. We figured we could have a party up here once we got back, do it up traditional.”
“I never thought you’d pull the trigger before I did, dude. Where is she, anyway?”
“She went up to your house to get Mr. Gingerbread.”
“Thank God. I don’t know why, but our dog is terrified of that disgusting toothless thing. I think I kind of am, too.”
Being back up on the mountain feels good. This place has been my home my entire life. There’s something different in the air, though. Excitement. There’s that static smell like just before a thunderstorm, even though the sky is clear. Everyone took a time-out from club life while we were gone, but now that we’re back, it’s full speed ahead, only this time, we’re rebuilding.
Clutch and Austin come out of the clubhouse carrying Moses’ wooden four-poster bed frame and toss it on the pile with his other belongings. Moses was the one who suggested we build this place into a mansion to begin with. He lived here all these years, with members of the club living in the apartments downstairs if they needed a place to stay, but now that he’s gone, we plan on using this space for something different.
The sound of her engine roars down the dirt road; I’d know that bike anywhere, and Esther pulls into the parking lot, grinning like a wild woman.
“I’m sorry,” she says, kissing me on the cheek as she takes off her helmet. “I missed this thing so much. Had to fire it up and make sure it was still running.” It was nice having her on the back of my bike for the last month, but seeing her ride her own is hot in its own right. Sure, she was made for this life, born into this, and doesn’t know anything else, but even if she wasn’t, she still pulls off that queen of the bikers thing better than anyone I’ve ever met.
“What is all this?” she asks, eyeing the giant pile of furniture, clothes, and other random odds and ends of Moses’ stuff, reminders of him stacked nearly six feet high.
“I think this is the last of it,” Trixie says, tossing an armful of bedsheets into the pile. “Fucker sure did have good taste in sheets. Too bad the only way to wash him out of them is to light them on fire.”
“We told Dad he could come back and get his stuff if he wanted to,” Gavin says. “We don’t need it.”
“You called him?” Esther stammers, looking kind of perturbed. “What happened to excommunication?”
“I called him,” Heat says, hanging his head. “I’m sorry. He’s just… he was one of my oldest and longest friends. I had so many questions.”
I put my arm around his shoulder. “It’s ok, dude. Did you get what you were looking for?”
“No,” he says. “And yes. I guess it just made things very clear. He doesn’t belong here. He’s not one of us.”
“Are we going to burn this bitch or what?” Trixie asks.
Tank and Red grab cans of gasoline and begins to douse the pile. As Gavin holds the lighter to it and it goes up in flames, a thick cloud of black smoke fills the air and we all begin to cough. It smells like him. It smells like hell on earth.
We huddle around the fire, the whole crew just watching as the pile slowly turns to ash.
“Here,” Gavin says,
pressing something into my hand.
“No,” I say to him as I realize what it is, trying to press it back into his. “That’s yours.”
“Too late,” Goob says, smiling at me. “Maybe the next time you decide to go fuck around for a month, you’ll think twice.”
“Dude, you fucked around for a year,” I laugh. I have always loved the kid, even when he was at his worst, but going away and getting clean and getting his life back on track was probably the best thing that could’ve happened for him, and for all of us. I hope he decides to stay now that Moses is gone.
“I’m back for good now,” he says. “Well, unless I find a lady for myself who wants to go on extended vacations.”
“You will,” Esther says, hugging him tight. “I’m so happy you’re back, brother.”
I hold the patches in my hand, running my fingers over the scraps of fabric, not daring to look down at them yet, not sure if this is really happening. If it is, it means something huge, not only for the club, but for me and Esther.
“Are those?” Esther asks when she spots them, not daring to say it out loud.
“Yes,” Gavin says. “Now will you hurry up and burn them already so we can officially get you into office?”
“Come on, ya pussy,” Austin says. “What are you waiting for?”
If I burn these patches, the patches we stripped from Moses, it means that I am the next president of the Misfits. I never thought this would happen. Once my father passed away, I thought he took his legacy with him. Part of me wants to say no. The responsibility of taking care of a motorcycle club is nothing to be taken lightly.
I look around the circle, all of my Mountain Misfit brothers anxiously watching, waiting for me to put our old president to rest officially. I can tell they took this decision very seriously, and I know it’s what they want or we wouldn’t be standing here like this right now.
I look to Esther. She’s smiling up at me. She reaches to stroke my face, and whispers in my ear, “They need you. You were made for this.” She nods to me as I reach out and toss the patches on the fire. I hug her close, kissing her on the lips, feeling like, as long as I have her by my side, I can do anything.