JIGSAW

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JIGSAW Page 2

by Jessie Cooke


  He was grateful that Dax let him stay on the ranch. He'd even done everything he could to help him find out who he was. Angel's brother had run his fingerprints, but they were nowhere in the system, not even in the motor vehicle department. He checked with missing persons and no one matching his description had been reported missing. No one had reported an accident that night. It was almost as if he had never existed before. But, he had kept moving forward and it was six months later now, and he was as happy as a guy without a past could be. Dax let him become a prospect a few months in and later that very night there was going to be a big patching in ceremony where he would be one of the guests of honor.

  “You okay baby?” He smiled as she cuddled deeper into his side. The sound of Kimber's sweet voice didn't frighten him any longer. It had the opposite effect on him now. It made him feel like he was home. He'd fallen for her hard and fast and if he had to roll thirty feet down an embankment and forget his entire life to end up right here in her arms, he'd probably agree to do it all over again.

  “I'm okay,” he whispered. “Horny though,”

  She giggled. “What else is new?”

  Jigsaw smiled again, but he was thinking, Pretty much everything, I guess.

  2

  Kimber loved waking up in Jigsaw's strong arms. She knew it was strange, to be in love with a man who knew very little about his past. He still couldn't remember his real name. But she didn't care. She knew him as Jigsaw, and that was good enough. Some of the other girls at the club tried to tell her when she first got involved with him that she should be careful, he could be anything, or anyone. This...coming from girls that sought out the outlaw, she thought. The bottom line was that she didn't care who he was in his past. The man that she'd gotten to know and love, was kind, loving, funny, full of life...and fucking hot. Right now she felt his big hand move up her warm belly and come to rest on one of her breasts. He was laying behind her and she was spooned into him. She smiled and snuggled in deeper.

  “I'm sorry I woke you up,” he whispered. “Again.” The poor thing had that dream every night and most nights his stirring and talking in his sleep, did wake her. Some nights she pretended it didn't just because it made him feel so bad. She didn't mind being woken up, as long as his big, tattooed arms were wrapped around her. She'd spent hours tracing the lines of those tattoos with her fingers. She had even done some research on what they meant and called a few tattoo shops and guys she knew locally to find out if maybe it was their work. He was so good-natured and rarely ever complained, but she knew it had to eat at him, not knowing who he was or where he came from. He told her that he had memories of a blue house and an old lady that always wore flowered dresses. He was an amazing motorcycle mechanic and Dax had contacted a lot of the places he knew of and clubs in the area to find out if they were missing anyone, but so far no luck there either. She ran her hands down his arms now, across the Hamsa which she'd had to look up. She'd found out it was a symbol believed by many to protect a person from bad or evil things. She wondered sometimes if the things he was hoping to be protected from had anything to do with what happened to him that night.

  The other arm told a completely different story. It was a beautiful depiction of Daphne and Apollo. Apollo had fallen in love with Daphne, but she wanted nothing to do with him. He chased her, stalked her really, until she couldn't take it any longer and she asked her father who was a God, to give her an out. Her father turned her into a laurel tree and she was forever rooted in a place where Apollo still showed up every day to visit and sing her songs. Kimber hadn't had to look that one up. She'd always been interested in Greek mythology and when she was a teenager and needed to escape the horrible reality that she lived in, she escaped into books. Daphne and Apollo were among her favorites. She'd always imagined finding a man someday that would love her like that...she couldn't imagine running away. It did make her wonder if there was a woman somewhere that Jigsaw already loved, who didn't love him back, but that was hard for her to fathom. She didn't waste too much time worrying about it, however. He made her happier than she ever thought she could be, so as long as she was part of the story now, that was all that really mattered.

  He tweaked her bare nipple with his fingers and she said, “Mm, don't apologize for waking me up like that.” Wiggling her hips so that her body was even closer to his, she savored the feeling of him massaging her breasts and nipples. As his hand began to make its way down, she could feel him hardening against her and felt herself growing wetter between her thighs. Suddenly his hot lips and tongue were sliding along the back of her neck, tasting her. He pressed his knee between her legs, gently, and opened up her thighs. When his hand reached her wet pussy in front, his leg slid up and he began to slowly move it up and down and in and out. Meanwhile, his fingers played across her overly-sensitive lips, skimming her hardened clit and sending a wild shiver through her entire body. She gasped and her response made him rub harder. She began to buck her hips and he slipped a finger down lower and dipped it up inside of her, teasing her clit with his thumb as he did. “Jesus,” she whispered, breathlessly.

  “No baby, it's just me,” he whispered back.

  “My savior,” she said.

  Jigsaw chuckled and said, “You know, a person would have to be in an awfully big mess for a guy with amnesia to be her savior.”

  She laughed and said, “Trust me, I was. Don't you want to be my savior?”

  “I'll be whatever you want me to be, baby,” he said, pulling his hand up and pressing it into her stomach while he used the other one to guide his hard cock into her sopping-wet pussy and he slid into her. She gasped and pushed her head back against his neck so that she could look up at his face while he slid deeper into her. He moved slowly, letting her feel every inch of him as he finally filled her up with as much of him as she could hold. He groaned and his tongue came out, searching for hers. She met the tip of it with hers and when they tangled up, she could feel and taste the vibrations of his moans. It was sexy, but a hard position to hold for long. That was okay though because when he took his tongue from her mouth, he sucked her earlobe in between his lips. She closed her eyes and reveled in those sensations. His touch was the most amazing thing she'd ever experienced and she'd come to crave it. Sex had never been pleasurable for her before she met Jigsaw. Her body had been used and abused so often in her short life that she had a difficult time responding, even to a man she was attracted to. But not with Jigsaw. From the beginning, just the way he looked at her turned her insides upside down. The first time he touched her, she immediately wanted more.

  She whimpered and gasped as he began to move a little harder...a little faster...her pussy gripped him tightly, like she was afraid to let go. His fingers on her clit matched the rhythm of their movements and she gripped his hard thighs with her fingers and used the hold to give her the momentum to thrust her hips back into his as hard as he was thrusting his forward. Their breaths quickened with their movements and she felt herself growing close to climax, just before Jigsaw suddenly slowed his motions and she felt herself being turned over. Suddenly she was on her back and he was back inside of her and his lips were pressed into hers while his tongue attacked her mouth like he was trying to consume her. When he pulled out of the kiss, she opened her eyes so that she could worship his perfect form while he hovered over her. God, he was beautiful.

  He slid his hands under her calves and brought her legs one at a time up onto his shoulders. She reached up and held onto his thick biceps and he began to plunge in and out of her more quickly. She clenched the muscles in her pussy as tightly as she could. She wanted to feel every blessed inch of him for as long as she could. She was thrusting her hips up to meet his, matching his rhythm with her own. Her fingers dug into his arms and she used that hold on him to pull herself up so she could reach his neck with her mouth. She licked and sucked and nibbled on his neck, not concerned if she left marks or not. She knew he didn't care. She was the only woman he was with since coming to the ranch
. He told her she was the only woman he wanted, and for the first time in her life, she believed those words.

  The sounds of pleasure he made when he was inside of her were almost as sexy as the act itself. He was getting worked up now and each sound that rumbled up out of his chest, caused the fire in her core to flare up like someone had thrown kerosene into it. She knew her orgasm was imminent and that it was going to hit her hard. She held onto him tightly and braced herself for it. And when it came at last, it was all-consuming. She arched her back up off the bed as high as she could, held onto him as tightly as she could and concentrated all of her strength on the hold she had on his throbbing erection as it slipped in and out of her sopping pussy.

  “Oh fuck! Jigsaw! Oh fuck, baby!” she cried out, loudly. She knew the walls were thin and there was probably another Skull with another woman in the next room, possibly getting off on listening to them fuck...but, she didn't care about any of that. When Jigsaw was inside of her, he was the only thing that had power over her thoughts. As the orgasm poured out of her, her body jerked and shuddered from the force of it. Jigsaw kept moving, only slower, until it subsided at last and left her a shivering, shaking pile of goo. He leaned down and nibbled at her lips softly as she came down from her high and she ran her hands through his hair and down his back, while he rocked her gently. When she finally stopped shaking all over, he slid his hands under her butt and tipped her up to meet his hips fully once more. He slid his other arm under her shoulders and brought the top half of her body up so that his lips could reach hers and he held her in that position while he slowly began fucking her again, kissing her at the same time. He picked up his pace as he went, his moans and sighs being muffled by her mouth and tongue as they caught them. She felt his grip on her tighten and his whole body go as hard as his cock right before he gasped, groaned and came inside of her. He thrust several more times until his orgasm had passed and then he collapsed down next to her on the bed and rolled her back into him. They lay there, cooling off together until at last she felt the soft brush of her lips against her neck and heard him whisper,

  “Thank you baby. I love you.”

  “I love you too,” she whispered back, right before he went back to sleep. She marveled now at how those words never meant anything to her before. Growing up, she'd heard them so many times. Her mother used to slur them as she was tucking her into bed when the taxi dropped her off in the middle of the night. Even at seven years old, she knew where the small money stash was, and she would go out in her robe and pay the man before helping her mother inside and into the bed. Her sister was eight then, but the two girls were so different. Natalie was an imaginative little girl and she escaped their reality by turning into herself. She read a lot too, but her books weren't educational in the way Kimber's were. Natalie liked the fairy tales, the stories where a man came in on a white horse and saved the princess from a life of being poor and surrounded by people that only wanted to use her. She was so wrapped up in her stories sometimes that coming back to reality was difficult for her. Kimber often played the role of the older sister as well as the mother...and most of the time, the father too. No one knew who the girl's fathers were. Was he the same man? Was he still around...alive? Why didn't he acknowledge his children? Those were the questions she wanted answers to, but her mother had never been willing or able to give them. She drank daily...a little more each time, until her liver was completely pickled and utterly useless. By that time Natalie had already left home and Kimber was left to pick up the pieces all alone.

  So those three little words didn't mean much to her at all, and it wasn't all because of her mother. Those words were said to her again by a man she thought of as a father figure. He'd married her mother when she was only thirteen and Kimber had thought he was going to be their savior. But instead he had only fed her mother more alcohol and even drugs and by the time Kimber was sixteen, he decided it was his right to force himself on the young girl. She tried to fight him off, but couldn't, but she did go to her mother the moment the woman was sober and tell her what happened. Rather than call the police or kick the man out, she called Kimber a whore and insisted that she had asked for it. The man was only pleased to give her mother more drugs so that he could continue to molest her young daughter. Kimber wanted to leave, but she had no money and nowhere to go...and, she was afraid to leave her sister. So she tolerated the abuse...until the day the one person she thought would never leave her did. Her sister Natalie climbed on the back of a Harley and left New Haven...and she never came back. Kimber had been in touch with her since then, but only by phone. She hadn't seen her sister face to face in years, and even though Natalie told her that she loved her each time they spoke, Kimber didn't believe it. You don't just leave the people you love behind.

  Those words didn't mean anything to her...and she wouldn't care if Jigsaw never said them. Every day he proved to her that he loved her. She could see it in his eyes and on his face and she could hear it in his voice. She could feel it in the way he touched her. Her brain sometimes cautioned her to be careful, but her heart never doubted him. She was in love with a man that didn't know his name...who he was...where he came from...or who he might have loved before. But she still believed that he would never leave her. Like Apollo, he'd visit the laurel tree and sing her a song. She was sure of it.

  3

  Dax Marshall is a formidable man. He took over one of the biggest MCs in the state when his father died. They were in the midst of a bloody street war, they were making and selling amphetamines and there was a special task force formed almost specifically to put the Skulls out of commission. A few years later, he had not only turned all that around, but he'd managed to create a million-dollar enterprise in the process. Jigsaw knew all of this second hand of course, from his months on the ranch. But a lot of it felt familiar to him. He was sure that the Skulls weren't the first club he'd ever spent time with. Whether he was affiliated or not...who knew? None of his tats were MC related. He wondered about the Daphne one. He knew who she was, and he knew Apollo, and he knew the story...but, he couldn't remember how it related to his. It was fucking frustrating to say the least. But despite the fact that Dax had managed to become one of the most powerful men in Suffolk County, he was still also in the business of taking in stragglers, such as himself, and a lot of kids that had no place to go...and the girls that live in the house he stumbled up on the night of his accident. That might make a person who was not in the know, think that Dax Marshall was a softie, or easily manipulated. Jigsaw had been on the ranch long enough to know that would be a dangerous assumption. He looked at the young man sitting in the chair next to him with a broken nose and one tooth missing in front and he could see on the kid's face that he had figured that out...too late. Jigsaw, Jimmie and Cody had been just on the outskirts of Dorchester doing a pickup for Dax from one of their businesses when they'd found the young man exchanging a baggie of white pills for cash. As soon as he saw them, he'd taken off running...but it turned out that Jimmie was a track star. Jigsaw had the pleasure of the kid riding bitch on his bike back to the ranch. At first he was worried he would jump off, but as soon as Jigsaw loosened up on the throttle, little “Bondo” as he called himself, latched onto his kutte so tightly that Jigsaw thought he might rip it right off.

  “He's ready!” Cody stood in the doorway of the office, arms folded and looking as intimidating as hell as he eyed the kid. Jigsaw almost felt sorry for him. He tapped the kid on the arm and said,

  “Let's go.” He stood up and Jigsaw walked him to the door. Since he still wore the prospect patch, for a few more hours anyways, he stopped there.

  “Jigsaw!” Dax called just as Cody was about to close the door.

  “Yeah?” He stuck his head inside. Dax's office is where all the executive decisions for the club are made. Because it sits at the back of the clubhouse, it looks deceptively small from the outside. But the reality is that it's bigger than the bar in the clubhouse. It has a huge, hand-carved table with a skull
in the center of it. The wall behind Dax's chair is covered in pictures, photos of the guys over the years, some mug shots, some candids. At least twenty chairs surrounded the table, but currently Dax, Handsome and Jimmie were the only ones who occupied it. Cody had sat the kid down in the center of it all and the look on his face said he was probably going to need a change of underpants before the meeting was over, especially because Cody was still standing over him, with his hard, intimidating glare focused on the kid's broken face. That was only a taste of what Cody could have done to him and Jigsaw got the impression that the kid wasn't quite smart enough to get that...yet. He could see the vein throbbing in his temple, and if he were hooked up to a monitor, his pulse would probably register off the charts.

  “Stay,” he said. Jigsaw went inside and closed the door. Whatever the reason Dax wanted him there, he wasn't going to question him. Dax turned his intense blue eyes on the guest of honor and said, Bobby Duke.”

  “Bondo,” the kid said, too smugly for a guy with a broken face. Dax smirked and said,

  “How's the old man, Bobby?”

 

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