by Karen Renee
Staring at the stacks of laundry, I said, “Thanks for folding my laundry, Vamp.”
He was sitting in an armchair putting on his motorcycle boots.
“No problem, babe. You need to get dressed, though.”
I looked down at myself and back at him with a confused look.
Shaking his head, Vamp said, “Love the soft lounge-wear, but it won’t be good on the back of my bike.”
Now I was shaking my head. I wanted to ride on his bike, but I just couldn’t.
“That’s all right, because I’m not going.”
Vamp walked over to me and wrapped his arms low around my waist. His hands grabbed my ass and he said, “Yeah, you are.”
“No, I’m not,” I said, with a head-shake, so even if he wasn’t listening, he could see my response.
“You remember this morning?” He asked what I thought was a strange question.
“Yeah,” I said, with an eyebrow-arch.
With a sly smirk, he said, “Fight me on this, and I’ll pin you again. Only this time, we’ll both be naked.”
Now we’re talkin’. Shit! Why couldn’t I keep these thoughts at bay? It was like having a defiant split personality.
On an eye-roll and a sigh, I asked, “So, what am I supposed to wear to this reception-slash-rehearsal dinner? Have I gotta bring a change of clothes? Or is biker chic going to do for tonight?”
With a squeeze of my ass and a chuckle, Vamp said, “Biker chic? Whatever that is, I want to see it and yes, that will do for dinner. You remember the Ponce Inlet lighthouse?”
“Yeah. If that’s where this dinner will be, then I’m definitely not going. Those winding stairs gave me a new appreciation for Hitchcock and the movie Vertigo. I couldn’t forget that place if I tried.”
I got a longer, firmer ass-squeeze, but then Vamp said, “There’s a seafood joint across the street. Pop has rented it out for a private party tonight and there might even be music.”
I pried his hands away from my backside, grabbed one of my favorite clingy tops and said, “Well, you should’ve led with that. I loved the food at that place.”
“Then get a move on woman, or we’ll be late.”
By four o’clock, Vamp pulled my SUV into the compound parking lot, because that was where his bike was. I felt dread weighing my shoulders down. The last time I was here was one of the worst nights of my life. It was hard for me to believe I was here again. Even though he was concentrating on parking the SUV in an out-of-the-way spot, Vamp still gave my leg a reassuring squeeze.
“Let it go, Frankie.”
I let out a breath I wasn’t aware I was holding, and said, “Yeah.”
Vamp shut down the engine, and then handed my keys to me.
“Gotta go inside and let Volt know we’re leavin’ your ride here.”
“I’ll wait here.”
Vamp’s hand tagged me behind my neck. “No, you won’t. You’re comin’ with.”
I shook my head, since apparently Vamp’s ability to listen to me was being challenged.
Smirking, he nodded at me.
I shook my head more, and then his other hand stilled me by holding my cheek, and that was when he kissed me. I tried to pull away, but the hand behind my neck held me firm. My nipples started to tingle slightly, but I was going to blame that on the changing temperature in the SUV. Vamp had kept the AC cranked low during the forty-five-minute drive, but the temperature outside was ninety-two degrees, so the cab was heating up fast.
Vamp pulled away slightly to say, “I think Cal’s right.”
My gaze slid to the side and then back to Vamp, as my eyebrows drew together. “About what?”
“The rule is no arguments, woman. And when the woman starts to argue, then you kiss them into submission.”
I couldn’t help it. A deep belly-laugh erupted out of my mouth, and my head would have been thrown back, but Vamp’s grip held firm. When I finally stopped laughing, Vamp’s gaze looked happy and admiring at the same time.
“Hurts, how gorgeous you are when you laugh deep. Missed that.”
I let that go, but said, “You and Cal need to be educated. You cannot kiss someone into submission.”
“You goin’ inside with me? Or are we gonna sit out here and sweat our asses off? Though I have, to say a sweaty make out session with you has some appeal.”
Apparently Vamp remembered that I was a bonafide girly-girl. It was already too hot in the SUV, so I opened my door.
“Let’s go, Vamp.”
Fifteen minutes later, we exited the building to get on Vamp’s bike. I remembered his electric-blue custom bike with the backrest for anyone sitting bitch behind him. It was a sweet bike. When we reached the end of the tarmac where bikes were parked, the bike I saw was not the least bit blue and it did not have a backrest. It was a low slung Harley-Davidson with pearlescent white front and back fenders and a studded leather seat.
I couldn’t hide my surprise and blurted out, “You got a different bike?” Vamp didn’t verbally respond. He gave me an eyebrow-arch as his response.
“How long have you had this bike, or, when did you get it?”
He gave me a neutral gaze for a beat before he said, “Six years ago. You aren’t the only one who had to change shit when we ended.”
We didn’t end. We fucking exploded, but I didn’t say any of that to him.
While pulling on leather gloves, Vamp asked, “You good as you are, or do you need a brain bucket?”
Less than halfway through our relationship, I had quit wearing a helmet on the back of Vamp’s bike. No doubt it made me more likely to be DOA if we were struck on the interstate, but even in a vehicle, if you weren’t wearing a seatbelt during an accident going seventy miles per hour, your chances weren’t that good. Considering that there were no seatbelts on motorcycles, I figured a helmet only made me more likely to end up a semi-stable vegetable in the event of an accident.
Pulling a headband and a pony-tail holder out of my purse, I said, “I’m good, just let me put my hair up, and my purse and overnight bag in your saddlebag.”
It took longer than usual to put my hair up because of my hand, damn Mark Stillman, but as soon as I stowed my bags Vamp slung a leg over and started the engine. I climbed on behind him with a thrill of excitement racing through my blood. I gently put my hand on his waist. I watched his head shake, and then he flung his hands back to my ass. He pulled me so close my breasts were squished to his lats. I was fuming and thinking I need to climb off this damn bike, pronto. Problem was, my purse was in Vamp’s automatically-locking saddlebag. He gave my ass two firm squeezes, which took me away from thoughts of getting off the bike, then he pulled both of my hands around to his abs, and we were off.
Riding on the back of a bike is very much like a massage for me. I start out with all of my thoughts cluttering my mind, but after fifteen or twenty minutes I find this sudden burst of clear-headedness. Maybe it’s a form of highway hypnosis even though I'm not the one driving; I don’t know, but the feeling of mental clarity is unparalleled. It also doesn’t hurt that sitting astride a motorcycle with an engine vibrating beneath your crotch is sometimes a bit relaxing in and of itself.
I had expected Vamp to showboat a little bit as he drove us down to the south Daytona area, but he was being quite the safe motorcycle driver. Even driving safely, the excitement factor of being on Vamp’s Harley was astronomical. I knew I had missed the freedom of the open road, but somehow I had forgotten ‒or denied‒ how exciting it was being with him on the asphalt. I didn’t want to get off. He could have driven me down to the Florida Keys and I wouldn’t have argued.
You know you still love him. Fuck! What was I doing to myself? I thought I was in my Zen realm of mental clarity, and then that unruly notion plants itself in my head! It was like I was messing with my own damn head. Maybe Vamp’s smarter than you realize, and he knew putting you on the back of his bike would be a huge step to win you back. Hmm, he did say he was fighting to win the war. I stif
fened as I realized this might have been one of his dirtiest fighting moves yet.
The thing about being on the back of someone’s bike is that anything you do, they feel it, and vice versa. This meant that Vamp felt me stiffen, and suddenly he was moving the bike into the right lane and we exited to a rest area soon after that.
He stopped the bike well away from any other vehicles.
After he killed the engine, he looked at me over his shoulder to ask, “What’s wrong, doll?”
Ugh. There was a blow that struck hard. Vamp had many endearments for me when we were together. Doll might well have been my favorite because my Italian father deserted my mother before I could even crawl. I did not grow up with a steady father figure in my life to call me sweet nicknames like ‘pumpkin’, ‘baby doll’, ‘doll face’, or ‘sweet pea’. After Vamp, I didn’t have many long-term relationships, and for whatever reason, nobody called me any of those more creative endearments. I shook my head to snap out of it.
“Nothing’s wrong.”
He grabbed my right thigh hard, “Do not lie to me, woman. Until one minute ago, you were wrapped around me like a second skin. Suddenly you went stiff, and I know that means something’s up with you. Spill it.”
“Nothing’s wrong. I was just trying to shift,” I lied.
Suddenly Vamp dismounted his bike and hauled me off of it. He put me on my feet directly in front of him and settled his hands on the side of my head with his thumbs at my temples.
“What’s wrong?” he growled at me.
Those blue eyes, the gages in his ears, the hoop lip-ring and matching eyebrow-rings were messing with me. I was starting to want him. He was wearing me down. Standing so close to him wasn’t doing me any favors either. His head started to lower toward mine.
On the defensive, I said, “You’re fighting dirty.”
His head cocked slightly. “Run that by me again.”
I would have stepped back but his hands were still on my face, so I said, “I told you that, you’re fighting dirty.”
“How can I be fighting dirty? I’m driving a bike.”
“Just forget it, ok. Can you take me home?”
He sighed and put his forehead to mine, “I go where you go. Until this shit is sorted, I’m your protection.”
“You don’t need to be, I’ll ask Tucker –”
“No asking Tucker. He might be big, but there’s no way he’s half as ruthless about your safety as I am. Don’t let this go to your head, but you’re right. I am fighting dirty by putting you on my bike. I didn’t forget how much you loved to ride. I told you I could see you almost drooling to get on one at Dick’s Wings. I don’t care what I have to do to get you back. You wrapped around me on my Harley is the best feeling I’ve had in over six years. We don’t have time for this shit. You good or do you need to use the bathroom?”
I shook my head. Vamp kissed my forehead, and then we got back on the bike and took off.
CHAPTER 10
Mr. Sullivan caught sight of me with Vamp after we received our cocktails from the bar, and to my dismay he bellowed, “Glory be! Lorraine Ingram, you are a sight for sore eyes! Marnie, you have to meet Lorraine,” he said to the petite red haired woman standing next to him.
He continued, “And so true to your Italian roots, you’ve aged like a fine wine. You’ve gotten nothin’ but better. High time my oldest son got you back.”
I stifled a groan to say, “Sir, we’re not back –”
“Brought you here, didn’t he?” he interrupted, as he and Marnie came closer to me.
“Yes, but –”
“No ‘buts’, dearie. You’re here, that’s all that matters,” he said, as he took me in a hug.
With gritted teeth, I held back a tirade that would have been embarrassing, at best and mortifying to the point Mr. S wouldn’t think the same of me again, at worst. I plastered a smile on my lips for Marnie, and put my drink on the bar so I could shake her hand. I couldn’t see Vamp’s expression because I was focused on Mr. S, but Vamp’s brothers Brock and Gabe were now standing next to Mr. Sullivan. They both had wide shit-eating grins, but the look in their eyes said they wanted to yank me away from their brother.
Or maybe I only thought that because of the two slender brunette women who had sidled up to Brock and Gabe during the exchange.
These two clearly wanted Brock and Gabe. Their facial features also looked remarkably similar to Marnie’s features. The looks they were aiming my way screamed ‘jealousy’. I had to shove the Gin Blossoms out of my mind with their fabulous song “Hey Jealousy,” which would have been an appropriate theme song for these two. I disliked jealous women almost as much as much as I disliked cheaters.
With a smile on my face, I said, “Hi. We haven’t met yet. But are you two the soon-to-be step-daughters to Mr. Sullivan here?”
One of them scoffed at me loudly, “No. We’re Aunt Marnie’s nieces.”
If actual disdain could drip from a statement, it would have dripped steadily from that one.
Ignoring the attitude, I politely said, “Oh, so you’re going to be step-cousins with these guys. Yet you seem to have an obvious interest in your soon-to-be cousins. Where are y’all from? Tennessee? Kentucky? Surely y’all must be from the South?”
At this, Brock put a fist to his lips to try to disguise his chuckles as a cough, while Gabe coughed out, “Cary” with extreme emphasis.
Next thing I knew, Vamp’s hand around my waist steered me out to the wrap-around patio area of the restaurant.
When the door closed behind us, I looked up at him with a dirty look to say, “What? Is it my fault, I’m the party of the life?”
Hearing myself, I quickly corrected, “I mean ‘life of the party’.”
Vamp shook his head at me, “You had it right the first time around, baby. Party of the life.”
I knew immediately what he meant by ‘the life’, but I didn’t realize his hands had both moved up to the side of my head and into my hair above my ears. Then he laid a serious one on me. His tongue was so far in my mouth, I felt the vertical barbell of his tongue piercing, and I lost my mind, my control, my everything. I kissed him back like my life depended on it. Wrapping my arms around his waist, I slid my hands into the back pockets of his jeans. I heard him groan and I could feel his excitement pressing against my lower belly. I was really getting into things when Vamp yanked away from me. His eyes were glittering at me, and he rested his forehead against mine.
“If I don’t stop, I’ll take you in a public place and probably get us both arrested.”
My stomach had that pleasant sinking feeling again. I had to clamp my lips together, because I nearly said something I knew I would regret. I already regretted coming down to Daytona with Vamp as it was. It would be too easy to get back with him, and that couldn’t possibly be right. I pulled my hands out of his pockets and stepped back. He gave me a look that was part disappointment and part determination.
Once we were inside again, I went to the restroom. As I entered I heard the click of one of the other stalls being locked. I found my own stall, and took care of business. While I was in the stall I heard three other women enter the restroom and three other stall doors closing. When I exited to wash my hands I smiled at Marnie, who was already at another sink doing the same. Before I could say anything to her, we heard one of the other women in a stall start speaking.
“I can’t believe the man is pierced punch-card style, like an old S&H Green Stamp card or something. How he’s related to Warren and his other two sons, I’ll never know.” The woman’s voice sounded like she was older, maybe forty or fifties, but I couldn’t be certain.
Then a younger woman’s voice, possibly in her twenties, said, “Mom! You’re too young to know about S&H Green Stamp cards. Gramma told me that a long damn time ago.”
A third young voice piped up, “Yeah, but did you get a load of the chick he brought with him. I mean she has a black eye that she didn’t even bother to cover up with concealer
, and why does she have a cast on one arm?”
The other young female voice said, “Oh, who cares about her? I just hope he isn’t pierced in other places, know what I mean? If he is, maybe he’s given his brothers ideas that we don’t or won’t know about until too late.”
The rustle of clothes being righted could be heard and then toilets began flushing. Before any doors opened, though, the other young woman said, “I hadn’t thought about that. Do you really think he could have a pierced dick?”
The door to the stall on the far side of the wall opened and a woman who was slightly younger than Marnie was standing in the doorway. Her expression went from contemplative to stunned embarrassment at warp speed. As these women had their stall-to-stall exchange, I had dried my hands and turned myself around to lean my backside against the counter. Marnie had assumed the same stance, but with her arms crossed under her breasts. The other two doors opened and the two brunettes came out, but stopped short when they realized Marnie and I were blocking the sinks.
Before either of the nieces could speak, their mother said, “Marnie, I’m sorry. We had no idea you were in here.”
I didn’t know Marnie well, but I didn’t need to in order to know her tone was ice cold as she said, “It’s not me that you and your daughters should apologize to, it’s Lorraine here. I’m not only disgusted by hearing that conversation, but I’m also embarrassed to be related to the three of you. And, you had no idea I was in here? That tells me you’re not genuinely sorry, but sorry you were overheard.”
All three women’s mouths were hanging open. I was thinking about what to say to them when I felt Marnie’s hand on my arm, “Dear, I know we just met, but truly, I apologize for their lack of couth.”
I shook my head at her. “No, it’s ok. Certainly not your fault.”
Turning to the nieces, I said, “And, it’s been six years since Cary and I were last together, so things might be different in that general department, but I wouldn’t want your curiosity to be denied. Yes, he has a pierced cock. I can’t speak for Gabe or Brock, since I’ve never been involved with them, but I can tell you a man who knows how to use his pierced cock hits your G-spot in a way no toy can match. You widen your narrow little minds, you might find that type of thing out for yourselves. Marnie, I’m sorry to divulge more information about your soon-to-be adult step-son than any woman would ever want to know. Let’s get out of here.”