“You want to talk?”
“Am I that easy to read?”
He gave me an affectionate smile. “You’ve been thinking of how to word whatever it is since you got on the back of my bike.”
“Neither of us have brought up the whole sex thing. I love sleeping with you, but it’s possible I’m ready to take the next step.”
“When you’re sure, let me know. Until then, I’m happy being your friend and spending time with you.”
I took a breath and blew it out. I didn’t want this to sound like an ultimatum, because it wasn’t, but I could understand why it might sound like one. Still, I had to say it. “I need sex. I haven’t had any in three and a half weeks. If we’re going to stay platonic, I’ll probably go to Atlanta this weekend, but I’ll be home in time for our evening together Sunday.”
“I didn’t ask you to stop.”
“No, you didn’t, and I’m sure you’ve continued as you were, which is fine.”
“Not quite as often as I was. I didn’t want to show up smelling of sex, so I’ve curtailed it a little. A dozen times a week instead of three or more times a day.”
It wasn’t a punch to the gut, though it still stung a little. “Are you trying to make it easier for me to run off and fuck someone else?”
He shrugged. “Is it working?”
Yes, but I still had to ask. “A dozen times a week? Really?”
“I’m fairly certain you aren’t asking for details.”
I shook my head. “No. I don’t want details. We aren’t an item. I have no right to dictate that part of your life.”
“Not at the present time, but I want to be clear that once we’re an item, you’ll have a say. I’ve never cheated on anyone and I never will. If I make you a promise, I’ll keep it.”
I believed him, but I was disappointed that he didn’t jump on the chance to use and abuse me the next time he slept over. I understood his point, though. I hadn’t used clear and concise wording, and that’s what he wanted to hear from me before he let us go to the next level. He was clearly telling me he wasn’t someone who’d sit and wait forever — he was getting his dick wet a dozen times a week, after all. However, he was letting me know he was waiting for me. On his terms and not mine, but that’s who he is and I wouldn’t change a thing about him.
But I had to poke the bear a little more anyway. “So, you want me to go to Atlanta and let someone give me an intense scene?”
“Will you be safe?”
“Yeah. I can text someone and see if they have plans. If they don’t, we can set something up so he’ll work me over. Even Aaron trusts him. If he’s busy, there are two more trustworthy Doms I can contact.”
“Then while I may not want you to, I’m glad you have that outlet. When you’re ready for it to be me, we’ll talk, but until then, neither of us is obligated to abstain.”
“We have a home match next weekend. Like, nine days from now. Do you think you can get off work and come?” I hadn’t intended to invite him, but he was making me fall in love with him and I wanted him to be there.
“Probably. I’ll need to talk to Bobcat to be sure we have someone who can fill in, but I should be able to.”
Dementor
The team has a home match about once a month, and they traveled out of town at about the same frequency, so she had a match roughly every second or third weekend. They’d be traveling to Texas for a three-day tournament in March, and I’d been hoping for an invitation, though I wasn’t clear on whether significant others routinely traveled with them, or if it was a team bonding thing when they went out of town.
The invitation to her home match gave me hope she might want me to come to Texas. Swinging it so I had the entire weekend off would be tough, but a few of the new prospects had really stepped up and were showing promise, so perhaps one of them would be ready by then.
Sunday, I took her to one of the fanciest steakhouses in town. I got the thirty-five ounce tomahawk steak, and she ordered crab legs and a lobster tail, and both of us were in gastric heaven. I scented a human man on her, and a decent amount of bruising, but I didn’t mention it. If she needed to sow some wild oats while she figured her shit out, I could give her a few months.
Beyond that, I might have to sit back and regroup. For now, I understood a little of where her mind was and why she needed space. I was glad she was no longer pushing me away, and the intimacy of our Sunday nights meant a lot.
“Do you want me to pick you up and take you to your match Saturday? That way we’ll be in one car for the after party, and you can drink without worry of having to drive home.” Most shapeshifters have a hard time getting drunk, but the birds are the exception.
“I’ll have a shitload of cookies and brownies, so it’ll have to be in your truck and not your bike.”
“Why are you taking so much food?”
“Everyone has something they’re good at that they do for the team. Someone handles our website, someone else does our bookkeeping and pays the bills, someone else deals with the ticketing company and makes sure that’s set up right. I can cook. About half of what I take will be sold in the concession stand, the rest gets put in the locker room so we can carb up before we go out, and to help us recover afterwards. Adrenaline and mad dashes and tons of endorphins from the hits we take eat up glucose reserves and make you feel like you’re about to starve.”
“The truck’s no problem. I look forward to buying your goodies at the concession stand.”
She opened her mouth to say something and closed it with a grin. “I was going to say you don’t have to pay for my goodies, but then I realized how that sounds.” She shrugged. “It’s true, you don’t. I’ll put together a care package for you, but I didn’t think you were that big of a fan of sweets.”
“Are you kidding? Bears love honey. I can take or leave chocolate, but anything honey flavored or caramel flavored and I’m all over it.”
Once again, I held her while we fell asleep and awoke with her spooned against me. My cock was always rock hard when I awakened, but I willed it soft with the promises of a sweetbutt’s ass in a few hours. I cooked breakfast while she showered, we ate together, and then I followed her until she turned off and I kept going to the apartment complex, but I stopped and bought a dozen steak biscuits and a half-dozen egg and cheese biscuits.
I’d asked Daffodil to be in the clubhouse at ten, and I saw her take a deep breath when I walked in. She wanted the food. She’s a pronghorn — prey living amongst the wolves, but in this case, the wolves and bear and other assorted predators protect her.
“Not yet, pretty little prey. Wanna fuck your throat and it’s best if you have an empty stomach.”
She grinned and licked her top lip, and I returned her smile. “Looks like someone might want a spanking.”
Her head went back and forth, but her scent told another story. She didn’t like pain, but she’d learned to love the power exchange of having to bend over and accept a mild spanking.
I unzipped my pants, pulled my dick out, and pointed to a chair. She sat and leaned forward, and I stepped to her, grabbed the back of her head, and went to town on her mouth.
Ten minutes in, and I could’ve come if I wanted, but I stopped myself. I’d told her to lube her ass before she came, so I merely lifted her, bent her over the back of the chair, pulled her leggings down, and jammed my dick in her ass. She screamed and yelled and squirmed, but she was fine after about the tenth time I shoved myself inside her.
Another five minutes, and I pulled out and came all over her back. Fuck, I’d needed that. I helped her up, and I fastened my jeans while she pulled her leggings up. She grabbed the sacks and took them to one of the tables, and I sat across from her.
“Something got you worked up,” she noted right before she took a huge bite of her egg and cheese biscuit. Pronghorns don’t eat meat, and Daffodil rarely ate it as a human, either.
“Thanks for being on time.”
“Not a problem. I have enough time to shower and g
et to the salon. Thanks for breakfast, but I thought you were going to spank me.”
“You disappointed I didn’t?”
She shrugged. “Surprisingly, yeah.”
“What time do you get off tonight?”
“My last appointment is at seven. Whenever I get finished with her. Shouldn’t take more than fifteen or twenty minutes.”
“I’m gonna head to our property outside of town and spend the day in my bear form. I’ll head back at dark, and I’m gonna be all shaggy. If you’ll come to my apartment when you get off work, I’ll pay you to give me a trim and then I’ll give you a nice little spanking.”
“Grab a pizza from the place on the corner with all the veggies, none of the meat, and extra cheese instead of paying me, and we have a deal.”
I was thinking this meant throat fucking might not be a good idea, and she rolled her eyes. “Oh, the horror, only two of my holes will be available.”
“Okay, but fair warning — I’m a lot rougher after being in bear form. If you aren’t up for it, you can just do my hair and we’ll eat. If you want sex, it’s going to be more physical than normal.”
“And why the fuck does that turn me on? I don’t know what you assholes have done to me, but it’s almost like my orgasms are all wimpy-assed if someone doesn’t spank me and hurt my damned nips.”
Pronghorns usually live in harems of four to eight women per man. The shapeshifters almost all live in the general vicinity of Yellowstone, since there are plenty of actual pronghorns in the park. They don’t run in the park. They have their own land so they can keep the predators away. Still, it allows them time in their animal form without running up against the Concilio. Daffodil has to be careful when she changes in Alabama — especially since it’s just her. I didn’t know what had made her leave her family and herd, but she seemed to be thriving here.
“Why’d you choose Birmingham when you decided to move east?”
“The usual story. I followed a man, lived with him a year, didn’t work out. I can support myself, but I needed sex, and ya’ll give me what I want. Also, things were scary after the riots, so I’m grateful to live in a place that feels safe.”
“You don’t want to go back to your herd?”
Her scent went sour, but she merely said, “No.”
Chapter Sixteen
Ember
I spent Wednesday and Thursday evening baking. A few of my teammates came to help, since it takes time to individually wrap the items for the concession stand. We ended up doing tequila shots towards the end, and I decided Burn and her girlfriend shouldn’t drive home.
And that’s the thing about derby names. Burn’s derby name is The Burninator, and we shorten it. Her girlfriend isn’t on the team but she’s always around and she helps keep all of us organized. A large armoire on the main floor is actually a murphy bed, and that’s where I put them for the night.
My room is soundproof, so I can do whatever I want upstairs and not be heard when I’m hosting Aaron’s guests. This means I had no idea what they were doing the next morning when I came out of the pantry.
Burn had her girlfriend bent over the back of the sofa, going at her ass with a belt. My clit immediately swelled and I wanted to run upstairs and get myself off, but no way was I going to walk away, because Burn didn’t stop or even slow down, and she clearly saw me.
I stood and watched a few moments before I started pulling ingredients out for breakfast. A few minutes later, I heard Burn telling her sobbing girlfriend, “Stand in the corner with your hands to the back of your head and your red little ass on display, and don’t move until you have permission.”
Burn was wearing shorts and a crop top, her girlfriend was naked. I wanted to ask what she was being punished for, but instead, I asked, “How much breakfast should I make? I’m having oatmeal and scrambled eggs, but I can make bacon as well.”
“Not necessary. We’ll be heading home soon. Thanks for insisting we stay over — you were right to point out we shouldn’t drive home.” She looked behind her and back to me. “Also, thanks for not freaking when you came downstairs. I assumed we’d be gone before you were awake. You said you wanted to sleep in this morning.”
I shrugged. “It’s a little after nine o’clock. This is sleeping in for me. Plus, I wanted to be sure ya’ll got a good breakfast.”
She shook her head. “It isn’t your responsibility to feed everyone. I need to finish with her and then we’ll be out of here. We can pop into a drive-thru somewhere for breakfast.”
I sighed. “Sorry. You’re a guest. I feed guests. It’s what I do.”
She hugged me. “Don’t apologize. I’ll take my naughty little girlfriend into the bathroom a few minutes, and then we’ll be out of here.”
The bathroom isn’t soundproof, and they didn’t think I could hear them, but with my supernatural hearing I could easily hear, “No, Amy, please not the Icy Hot. Please. Fuck.”
Best I can tell, Icy Hot was used as lube for a butt plug and then was added to her clit and nipples before she was ordered to put her jeans on without her panties. Based on the lecture, it sounded like someone had an orgasm without permission, and the poor little submissive’s eyes were still watering when they came out, though she was no longer sobbing.
She also wasn’t wearing a bra, and her nipples were super-hard little nubs under her shirt.
In BDSM clubs, when a submissive is being punished you don’t engage them in conversation unless their Dom or Domme tells you to. I talked to Burn and not her girlfriend. “Thanks for all the help last night, and having ya’ll stay was no problem. I’ll see you this evening.”
Burn gave me a big hug. “Text us when you get close so we can help you bring all of this inside.” We talked about logistics for the evening a few minutes, and they left.
And I had to shake my head, because now The Burninator would always provoke this memory of hearing her force someone to wear a butt plug with Icy Hot lube. Fuck.
I thought Able had done a little of everything to me. Looks like I’d been wrong.
I fixed breakfast, started the dishwasher, and then organized my laundry and started washing clothes. I began the research for a speech I’d have to give in two weeks. The teacher had assigned us all a different topic, with the idea being the class would learn something about every topic while listening to our classmates. We were going to have a test after all the speeches had been given, and she promised at least two questions from every speech would be on the test. Talk about a way to make sure we paid attention and didn’t zone out. My topic was about how organized crime frequently makes use of culture to provide a framework of trust. The Japanese Yakuza, the Sicilian Mafia, Columbian drug trafficking organizations. It occurred to me that the RTMC was probably considered an organized crime unit, and that the fact they’re all shapeshifters without an Alpha is part of the binding force that holds them together and creates trust.
But Aaron Drake was friends with them. The Chattanooga bikers had all come to Aaron and Sophia’s wedding, for goodness sakes. And the President and VP in Chattanooga were super-close to Sophia. They’d helped keep her safe while she was in hiding from her father, back before she’d taken the crown from him.
I shook my head and decided to stop analyzing them. I was doing the criminal justice thing so I could work for a private security firm. I’d never be law enforcement. I’d never work in the actual justice system. Aaron had said a degree wasn’t even necessary. He’d given me a list of classes he’d like me to have — I’m the one who’d wanted the degree. When I’d started it, I’d never actually thought I’d go to work for him. Able was still alive and I was his toy. Sophia, however, had told me unless I came up with a goal and started doing something to make it happen, she’d pull me out of his household. She was beyond pissed when she found out I’d been given to Griffin for a month. Looking back on it, I can understand, but at the time, I thought she and Aaron were abusing their power and meddling in my life.
But then, when
Able was killed, I was glad I had something else already in place. I was suddenly alone, but at least I had a reason to get up and get dressed. Or, I did once classes started back, anyway.
Dementor
The gate at the end of Ember’s driveway swung open as I neared it, and I went through, but wondered how it knew to open for me. Now that her house wasn’t being used as a safehouse, it opened automatically as Ember neared it, but I’d always assumed her car and the gate had a built-in handshake.
I hoped she hadn’t programmed it to open for anyone who happened to turn off. That wasn’t safe.
She opened the front door for me and gave me a hug. I held her until she pulled away a little, which means I had her in my arms around thirty seconds, and damn, it felt good.
“Have you had a good day?” she asked as I followed her to the kitchen.
“I haven’t been awake long, but it’s been wonderful so far.” She’d told me to be at her house at one so we could load up and then unload without being rushed.
The Birmingham league consists of three teams, and thus there are three matches. The first is at three, the next at five thirty, and the last at eight. There’s a junior team of teens, and then what amounts to an adult B-team, and then the final match is when the stars of each city face off against each other. Ember was, of course, one of the team’s biggest stars, but I’m not sure she realized just how big of a following she’d developed.
“I take it you’ve been awake longer than me. Have you had a good day?”
“Interesting and productive.”
“Better than boring, I suppose. What made it interesting?”
She turned and looked at me. “Do you get tired of hearing me talk about Able? Because I get tired of bringing him up, but sometimes there’s no way to answer a question without saying his damned name!”
“Tell me why it was interesting, and then maybe we can brainstorm another way you could’ve told me? Or maybe not. For the record, I’m fine with you talking about him, because I always learn something new about your past when you do, and I want to know everything about you.”
Dementor (Rolling Thunder MC Birmingham Book 1) Page 13