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

by Bink Cummings

  Big barks a demonic laugh, tossing his head back. “No, of course you don’t. Why remember anything about the man that disgusts you? Right? Having spent the last twelve years of my life falling in love with you is the dumbest thing I have ever done. And I’ve done some fucked up shit. But this,” he jerks his head back down to stare at the floor, “this takes the whole motherfuckin’ cake.”

  He what? Huh? Excuse me?

  “Great, Big Dick, just great. Spend a hundred grand on a woman and every waking moment thinkin’ about her only to be slapped in the face with a pregnancy and a weak minded, suit wearing fucknut,” he laughs harshly, muttering to himself.

  “A hundred what?”

  Ignoring my question, he powerfully stands and looks at me. I mean he really looks at me. His eyes rake my form up and down and back up again. I shiver. He doesn’t look disgusted, he looks, I dunno? Determined? Lustful?

  “Fuck it!” he growls and closes in on me. I try to scurry to the side, but his arm shoots out pining me to the wall. “Don’t move,” he orders, and I freeze.

  Fuck, what is he going to do?

  Big drops to his knees, while his fingers glide down the wall beside my head so I can’t move. Shoving his face to my belly, he kisses it and I swallow a whimper. He kissed our daughter, and he doesn’t even know it.

  “You’re a beautiful pregnant woman,” he whispers, with his mouth brushing my belly and moving downward. His hand grazes the side of my thigh and moves its way north, up my dress to my lacy panties. Hooking his thumb into the band, he tucks his head under my dress, and I gasp as the heat of his mouth wafts over my sensitive mound.

  I’m in shock; that has to be it, because nothing is registering right. All the synapses in my brain are firing in tandem, with only one thought and one thought alone. Big, the best lover that ever existed, is breathing over your pussy. This can only mean one thing. The one needy thing I’ve been desperate to feel for a millennia. Nothing else matters in this lust filled moment. My pussy swells, and he pushes his hand from the wall to hook his other finger into my panties and tug them down to my ankles. I tremble and whimper, as the rough heat of his calloused fingers skim my thighs and my calves, and he bends forward stuffing his nose into the cleft of my pussy. Big inhales deeply and sensuously groans, as I can no longer hold back the soft moan that I expel from sheer arousal. His hands reach my hips, and he digs in with his possessive fingers. Not hard enough to hurt but enough to make me know he’s in control. I relish every second of it.

  My clit throbs with abandon as my pussy weeps from neglect. Big’s soft tongue pokes between my folds, igniting a spike of electricity to shoot to my core. Lurching forward, I cry out, and my hands unconsciously seek the top of Big’s head. Greedily, I push him to my pussy, silently begging for more.

  He darkly chuckles into my folds before his tongue sweeps across my clit, and a strange tidal wave crashes through me. My head shoots back, slamming into the wall. My eyes blank out and my legs tremble, as I wail a wild orgasmic cry. The world tilts on a heavenly axis, and I explode, coming as forceful shockwaves furiously pull me into the magical world of sated bliss. Wetness shoots from my pussy, running down my inner thighs. Big attacks my clenching hole, sucking down the juices and frantically licking them from my thighs, groaning in satisfaction.

  Moments pass, my body levels itself from that earth shattering climax, and I sigh, combing an unsteady hand through my hair and scrubbing my flushed face with the other. Feeling a million times more sated than I’ve been since I left him all those months ago, that was unexpected but oh so satisfying.

  Poking his tongue into my pussy, I weightlessly moan and return my hands to his head, savoring in the beautiful feeling of his thick tongue probing my slick, sensitive heat. The roughness of his late afternoon stubble brushes my swollen lips, while his nose and mouth breathe quick bursts of arousal-induced air over my delicate parts.

  Inhaling deeply, I can faintly smell his musky arousal, as our bodies emit potent levels of pheromones.

  “Big,” I whisper.

  “Uh,” he grunts.

  “Are you hard?”

  He wantonly groans into pussy, nodding his head, never stopping his tongue from exploring the shallow depths of my silken hole—tasting me, savoring my juices. It’s highly erotic, and one of the sexiest things he’s ever done. Although his warmth feels amazing as it cleanses my skin, I am wrung out already. The orgasm, although it was quick, has made me tired, and I feel no urge or spark to get off again. Not this time anyhow.

  “Big, I’m not going to come again. Do you want me to help you?” I offer because it’s the polite thing to do. I also offer because I owe him. And mostly, I offer because I am dying to see if that monster can fit into the depths of my mouth without gagging me. Call me crazy, but I’m up for the challenge.

  Swirling his tongue in my pussy, he retracts it and glides it up my slit, circles my clit, and licks up to my mound. He kisses the light dusting of hair and nuzzles his nose in it, audibly inhaling my scent again.

  Big stands and swipes his reddened lips by cupping the palm of his hand over his mouth and wiping my essence away with an impish grin and wink. Now that is sexy as fuck.

  Casting my gaze downward, I get the eyeful I was longing to see. Big’s massive erection hugs the inside of his right pant leg. I lick my lips and then nibble the corner of my mouth, savoring the sight. I think of all the nasty and dirty things I want to do with that cock…in my mouth, in my pussy…. I bite my lip harder…. I want to swirl my tongue around his slit and suck the dewy drops of salty heaven into my mouth. I want to lick the length, feeling the throbbing veins pound under my slick tongue. Then I want to suck him into the depths of my hollowed mouth and swallow him down into my throat so I can’t breathe. When I look up and see his eyes lidded with desire, I want to deep throat him like no woman has done before.

  “Bink,” Big mutters tearing me from my feral fantasy.

  “Uh?” I shift my gaze upward and away from his crotch. My eyes connect to his knowing grin, and his head tilts to the side. He’s watching me watch him. For whatever reason, it doesn’t make me self-conscious. It only produces another batch of butterflies to release in my stomach.

  “Do you like what you see?” he asks.

  I could lie and say no. Part of me wants him wondering what I really think of his cock. Or I could just be honest. At this moment, I’m going to go with that. I’ve done enough to him already, and he was just tongue deep in my pussy. So there’s that too.

  “Of course I did. That was never a problem for me. You have the most beautiful cock I’ve ever seen. It’s a shame it’s not out so I can get a better view.” I flick my eyes down to his erection and back up to his blushing face.

  Aww, he’s blushing. That’s so hot! I like the redness of his cheeks and the way he shifts uncomfortably on his feet from the compliment. Adorable.

  “Don’t blush, Big. You’re a sexy man.” I can’t believe the word vomit that is just pouring out. I want to wash the sorrow away and keep that shy grin and blush on his cheeks. It looks nice on him.

  “You have the sexiest hair.” I step forward to touch it, only to be caught off balance when I look down to see my panties are still secured around my ankles.

  “Take ‘em off,” he huskily orders.

  I listen and kick them off. They skate across the room, hitting the corner. Now I take an easy step forward and reach up to comb my fingers through the sides of his hair that drapes his over his collarbone and down over his pecs.

  “You cut it,” I take notice.

  “Yes, people do that when they have hair,” he teases, almost bashfully. Like me paying attention to him is making him both happy and uncomfortable. I’m not stopping anytime soon, not when I feel high from the orgasm and at ease with us being in the same room together. I can’t remember the last time I’ve felt this… grounded…. normal… like myself. My real self, not the illusion I fabricate.

  Taking another step forward, my be
lly brushes Big’s crotch, and he hotly grunts, with his hands firmly planted at his sides. The height difference is major, so we don’t line up at all. The poor guy is lucky when he doesn’t have to duck to enter a doorway. Matching up to a woman who’s pushing five foot two to his six foot eight stance makes him look like a damn tree and I’m a bush. Hahaha, I just caught that analogy. Did you? Hot damn. Oddly enough, I’m in a very good mood. Weird. Must be the oxytocin surging through my veins. It’s like a natural shot of Xanax.

  Lightly rubbing my belly to his crotch, I glance up, and our eyes collide. His ice-blue eyes are smoky, his lids heavy. The thick dark lashes of his eyes fan across his lid, curling just slightly. Fuck, they’re beautiful, giving his eyes this raw pouty look of uninhibited desire. My stomach jerks, as Harley makes her presence known. The bounce of her powerful kick in my belly is faintly delivered to Big’s crotch, and his eyes widen as he takes an unsettled step back. Hitting the foot of the bed, he drops down, and his ass lands on the mattress with an unexpected bounce.

  “Was that?” His eyes lock onto my stomach, his throat constricts as he swallows hard, and his hands grip his bent knees. “Was that her kicking?” he finishes, awestruck.

  I stamp down a laugh. “Yep, Big, she has a habit of kicking at the most inopportune moments.” Instinctively, I rub where her foot just kicked.

  Big frowns and growls dementedly under his breath. “So you’re saying this happens when you and that pussy boy fuck?”

  Well, alrighty then, I guess he’s pissed again.

  Big’s eyes remain glued to my stomach. I can feel the air re-thicken with tension once his breathing accelerates, and he grips his knees hard enough his knuckles turn white as snow. The tick in his jaw when he’s angry throbs with the beat of his rapid pulse. Time to diffuse the situation before it blows up in my face. Things were going so good too. Dammit!

  “Well?” he grinds out, seeking an answer.

  “Well what?” Does he really expect me to divulge that my sex life is nonexistent? Will that help or worsen the present problem? “Do you want really want me to answer that?” Surprisingly that comes out all cool, calm, and collected.

  Big cracks his neck side to side and loosens his shoulders, as if he’s trying to prepare himself for a fight. “Yup,” he definitively nods once.

  I step forward, entering his bubble, and I place a gentle hand on his tense shoulder. He flinches but doesn’t pull away. A grumbling noise rumbles in his fury infused chest. He’s crossing over into his bestial state. I hate when he gets like this.

  “Big,” I soothe with a warm tone, while my hand remains stationary on his cut. “I haven’t had sex with Marshall in quite some time. So no, when I said that, I didn’t mean sex. I meant it as a whole. Like when I am feeling sick, like yesterday, she kicked when I was dry heaving. Moments like that. I am not talkin’ sex, so please calm down.”

  A massive gust of air expels from Big’s mouth, and all the tension seems to melt away. Without warning, he wraps his arms around me, resting the side of his face on his daughter. I brush my fingers through his hair, as he holds me tight. My heart swells, and in this beautiful moment, I fight with everything in me not to break down and cry. What an emotional day; it’s like riding a never-ending roller coaster. Not that I can blame either one of us; this is a sticky situation. We are both just trying to rein in our emotions, which has proven to be quite difficult.

  Minutes pass, and he continues to embrace me, rubbing his warm cheek to my belly, eyes closed. How can a man so hard and unrelenting be so loving and accepting? Nuzzling his cheek to my belly that holds a baby that he thinks is someone else’s? It takes one helluva man and a whole lot of love to be this wonderful.

  “Big?” I tenderly whisper, trying not to disrupt the serenity. My palm smooth’s over his hair and his bristly turned up cheek. His eyes open, and he lifts his head but doesn’t unlock his arms from around my back.

  Glancing up, his affectionate eyes bore into mine, “Yeah, Sugar Tits?”

  Dear God that voice, that deep husky, vulnerable voice. No wonder I love this man so much. Just one look at him has the icy barrier surrounding my heart thawing and the chunks breaking away. The thaw leaves a raw, honest, and still injured heart beating just for him. I wish I could tell him how I truly feel. But I can’t. He has a girlfriend, a woman he cares for, and we are not here to fix us as a couple. Correction, us as a whatever we were or are. This is about saying what needs to be said to move on with our lives, to move forward and out of this destructive unhealthy behavior we seem to bring out in one another. Both of us can then go back to our lives, one less load of shit on our shoulders. We still have to interact, but the poison we spit when our blood roars will hopefully recede significantly.

  “You ready to talk?” I ask.

  He nods and releases me. I take a seat next to him on the bed, close enough that our legs bump. I don’t know if I’m supposed to speak first or allow him to. I don’t get a chance to question that any further when he clears his throat and bends forward, feeding his hands through his hair again. Fuck, this isn’t a good sign.

  “Alright, I’m gonna say what I gotta say. Then you can talk. ‘K?” he says.

  “’K.”

  “I don’t even know where to fuckin’ start,” he shifts his ass on the bed, trying to get comfortable. “When you was a kid, your pops and I were friends until shit with the cunt started happenin’ with you,” he takes a deep breath. “It pissed me off. How a bitch could treat her own blood that way made me see red many times. The day you came to live here. You remember the day?” he turns his head to me with questioning eyes.

  “Yes, I remember.”

  Of course, I remember that day. I was being tormented at school, and my mom never came to protect me. Gunz and Big saved me and took me to get bras. Yeah, I remember that day like it was yesterday.

  “Good,” he grunts and turns back to staring at his boot covered feet. “I never told you, but I took care of shit that day. Threatened Lindy Sue, told her she was lucky I couldn’t put her in the ground. I almost did too. I went crazy. Your pops talked to me, and I gave him an ultimatum. I kill the cunt, or you move into the clubhouse with me and the brothers. You know what happened.”

  “I moved in,” I reply lightly, not wanting to sidetrack his story.

  “Fuck yeah, ya did. After that fuckin’ day, your pops and I haven’t been the same kinda brothers. Sad too, ‘cause we used to be close,” he sighs, like he’s replaying all the good times he had with my daddy. “When you were eleven or somethin’, maybe older, I can’t remember, your mom started bitchin’ about wantin’ ya back. What she really wanted was money. Tried to blackmail the club and me. Said she knew some shit that we did, and was gonna offer up proof to the Pigs. Knowin’ your pops, he probably leaked some club biz. So to keep her trap shut I paid her off. Just so she’d leave well enough alone.”

  “How much?” I have to ask.

  “That time? Ten grand,” he pauses and nods once as if he’s affirming the amount in his head.

  He keeps on, “A few more times over your teen years, she started in on the same horseshit. One time she said she was gonna take you away for good, move out of the compound. I blew a gasket. Went nuts, tore up a bunch of shit, drunk off my ass. Paid her off again. Same shit different day. Gunz and I got tired of her, but your pops refused to kick her to the curb because of some personal shit. He’s a brother, you know how that goes.”

  This is wild. I hate my mother, no doubt. But him staying with her after all of this? Sick. It’s really sick.

  “Then, I think you were close to fifteen, sixteen maybe. Your pops came bangin’ on my door in the middle of the night. Not gonna give ya the details, but the cunt fucked up bigger than before. We sat down at four fuckin’ a.m -- Gunz, your pops, and I, and hashed shit out. Agreein’ that 1) I was paying her off for good. I was done with her blackmail bullshit. 2) I’d put her in the ground if she didn’t get her fuckin’ act together. 3) Nobody was to tell
you shit about nothin’. And 4) That once you turned of age, I was gonna claim you as my old lady. Your pops flipped,” he pauses. “Shit,” he runs his hands through his hair and down the back of his elongated neck, where he treads his fingers together. His biceps flex.

  “Gunz even looked stunned. Long story short, your pops and I ended up in a fistfight. In the end, I agreed, after a long fuckin’ and bloody night, that I wouldn’t pursue you in any manner till I hit fifty. Gave you enough time to find a man, and if you didn’t, you were fair game. That’s the gist,” he explains.

  Um… okay.

  “So basically you bought me from Lindy Sue? And she kept hittin’ you up for money? And you kept giving it to her? Then you agreed to take me as an old lady when I turned thirty without my consent? You know you could have just broke the stupid agreement and tried sooner.”

  Holy cow, that didn’t just come out of my mouth. Try sooner? I need to think before I speak. I didn’t mean that.

  He doesn’t seem affected by my words.

  “No, no, I couldn’t,” he shakes his head. “If I had, I would have forfeited another fifty grand and some other shit. It was part of the deal, and I had already spent plenty as it was, and I always keep my word. But that’s not the rest.”

  “There’s more?” I squeak, perking up.

  He chuckles huskily, “Yup, lots.”

  A few moments pass as he remains silent, like he’s mulling over how to explain himself. Our heavy breathing is the only sound to keep us company.

  “You know all those punks you dated?” he finally speaks.

  “You mean the ones who cheated?”

  “Those would be the ones,” he bounces his head.

  “What about ‘em?”

  “Gunz and I made a pact, after you know, that shit went down with the cunt,” Big shifts again, uncomfortable.

  “Fuck the rules!” he thunderously growls, and returns his tone to normal. “I made new ones. Every boy you dated, we’d handle. First, we’d do the civilized thing and offer him money to go away. We’re gentlemanly like that.”