Being back at the clubhouse was bittersweet because I shouldn’t need to be here, surrounded by Storm’s family, and yet, they were mine too, by proxy.
They were the family who’d caused me pain along the way by being loyal to him when he was being disloyal to me, and yet, the women had taken me in.
Not just Giulia and Stone, but Tiff and Lily as well.
For the first time, I had friends who actively hung around the compound. Most Old Ladies didn’t, not liking the club life and the animals their men turned into in the clubhouse, but it was different now.
Maybe so dissimilar that if it had been like that when I was with Storm, things might have been different.
But crap, there was no point in even thinking of that.
Was there?
Stone
I let loose a holler as we rolled onto the highway that would take us over to Verona.
My joy was unconfined at being on the back of Steel’s bike. It hurt, sure, but I was getting used to the pain, getting used to minimal discomfort, and I knew, eventually, it would just become a part of my day. And there was no way I was missing out on this.
I was going for my brand, and I refused to not be riding bitch when I came back from the studio.
It was my right.
The last time I’d been on the back of his bike was when I was fifteen frickin’ years old. I had a lot to make up for.
And so did he.
With every swoop and curve on the road, I let loose another holler because I was thrilled to be flying again. That was how it felt. Like I was rolling through the clouds, wings akimbo.
Of course, I didn’t have a death wish. My arms were tucked tightly around his waist, and hell if that wasn’t more fun than I remembered.
The last six weeks had been hard. I’d suffered, a lot, and the treatment had been arduous, making me wish I’d done something worse to Annie Young when I’d had the chance.
Slicing her throat wasn’t enough for what she’d put me through with her poison concoction, but though I could regret I hadn’t stood on her tits or kicked her in the cunt, mostly, I was just amazed at how Steel had stood by me through it all.
Then, oddly enough, as amazed as I was, I wasn’t.
He’d always been loyal. That was why he’d broken me when he’d cut that off from me.
Once I’d seen his brand, I’d known we’d been heading this way, and I figured it was perfect timing, because when I was wearing his name on my skin, that was when shit would be official in the club.
It was almost terrifying, but also exciting.
For so long, I’d been a part of the MC, but somehow, an outsider too. This was like the cherry on the cake.
When we made it to Indiana Ink, I winced as I climbed off, and I’d admit to the spell of dizziness as my body protested the movement required to climb off the back of the hog.
He knew, of course, grunted at me, but held me still as I got my shit together.
When the door burst open, I laughed when, from behind, I was embraced and squeezed to the point of pain, but I was okay with that.
It felt good.
My man on one side, my best friend on the other.
Bliss!
I reached around and patted her back, laughing as I said, “You happy to see me, Indy?”
“Fuck, you only saw her yesterday,” Steel groused, making my lips twitch.
“Do you know how long I’ve been waiting to break ground on her virgin skin?”
My nose crinkled. “Could you make it sound any creepier?”
She laughed, but I knew she didn’t care. “Years,” she replied, answering her own question and aiming it not at me, but at Steel. “I’m excited.”
“It’s only a little one.”
“I know, but we’re planning a doozy, aren’t we?”
I rolled my eyes, but she didn’t see that.
I was getting his name scrolled on me behind my ear, just until the scarring on my belly was fully healed.
I didn’t know if I’d ever be having kids, and I knew tattoo artists advised against having tats on the belly when you were a woman, but I couldn’t deal with the scars and wanted them covered up.
That was where my brand would go. Eventually. And I knew Indy had big plans for it.
She’d made a name for herself by donating tattoos to mastectomy patients, and her generosity and kindness had seen her name travel far and wide—exactly what she deserved.
She was used to dealing with scar tissue, so I was excited to know what she’d come up with because, according to her, she’d been planning this design since she was sixteen.
Yeah, my best friend was definitely a weirdo.
When we walked in, I was faced with another weirdo. I’d never liked her assistant, but she thought he was harmless. I knew David kept her organized, and considering that was a miracle, I wasn’t surprised that she loved him. Still, I greeted him cordially, as was my way with people I didn’t particularly like, and he smiled at me warmly after asking how I was doing.
I wasn’t going to be honest, because if I told the truth every time someone asked me how I was feeling, they’d just break down and sob.
And I had too much to be happy about.
The pain was definitely rough, and sometimes, I just stood there and cried, but what made it all better? Knowing Steel would appear, like my white knight, and he’d take me in his arms and tell me that soon, things would change. That I’d be better soon. And even though I was the doctor and understood that recovery was a bitch, I believed him.
In his arms? My life had changed.
I knew that sounded pathetic, but I’d deal with that.
I was pathetic for this man, and the best part? He was pathetic over me!
When Indy guided me into her studio, I eyed the equipment warily. She knew I hated this shit, but for Steel, I’d deal with it, for the man who’d been by my side throughout this entire ordeal, I’d wear his name with pride, so I let her set me up.
She got to work, preparing the area, and Steel hummed his approval as she inked his name down the tender skin.
When it was done, the official act of his claiming me sealed, I grinned at him, excited to see the heat in his eyes.
Even though the last few weeks hadn’t exactly been lust central in our bunkhouse, somehow, the fire in his gaze never seemed to abate, and I’d never been happier about that.
Fuck, how he could feel that way when we’d been dealing with a lot of gross shit that came as part of what I’d been through, I didn’t know.
To be honest, that was how I knew he loved me.
How I knew what he felt for me was real and honest and true.
If he could look at me with need and lust, all while he’d helped me when I puked, while he’d helped change the bandages on my stomach, and had held my hand at the doctor’s office…yeah, it was love.
I didn’t care what any naysayer could throw at us. I knew it.
She put a little gauze over the small tat and taped it up, but warned me, “It’ll be irritating as hell, and your hair will catch on it. But make sure you apply Aquaphor on it, okay?”
I nodded. “I probably know the aftercare better than you do, Indy.”
She stuck out her tongue at me, reminding me of Giulia with the move—fitting that Nyx was surrounded by two women who weren’t afraid to flip him the bird and shoot him raspberries—and queried, “Okay, are you ready to see the tattoo I’ve been designing for, like, ever?”
I shot her a half grin. “I’m ready.”
I wasn’t.
I was actually nervous. What if I hated it?
What if—
Then the tracing paper was there, and the outline was in front of me. Beyond that, she passed me a sketch, and my eyes widened at the color image.
“Oh my God.”
“Jesus, Indy, that’s spectacular.”
That Steel was impressed was a given. I knew her talent was renowned, but holy shit…the tattoo was beyond epic, and it w
ould fit on my stomach to perfection.
It blew my mind how perfectly it would sit there, and I gaped at it, then gaped at her some, gaping harder when she laughed, clearly sensing that I loved it.
The tattoo depicted a cat, Mrs. Biggins of course, who was sitting proud and straight behind the light of a strawberry moon. It was high and full in the sky, illuminating the ocean that gleamed a silvery navy blue. The moon was made up of mandalas, and inside the lines, Steel’s name was intertwined.
What made the ink so spectacular was the shading on Mrs. Biggins, who had her face twisted toward me in a perfect likeness. It was as though she was sitting there, right in front of me.
Miserable and grumpy and beautiful.
She’d be on my belly forever.
And even more epic? On Mrs. Biggins’ tiny shoulder? A small bird.
Robin.
For Steel.
“I love it,” I whispered, my eyes gleaming wet with tears.
“I knew you would,” she muttered, her tone cocky, but I saw her joy at my pleasure, at my appreciation, and I reached for her hand and squeezed it.
“Thank you, Indy.”
She hitched a shoulder, but her grin was shy. “You’re welcome!”
Then, being Indy, she changed shit up and muttered, “Steel, I got a forty-minute slot…you want some new ink or a touch up?”
Steel winked at me. “Yeah, I got some ink that needs freshening up.”
And when Indy saw which tattoo needed the fresh ink, and when I muttered that pierre meant stone in French? She gaped at me as much as I’d gaped at her over her drawing. I couldn’t blame her either. Only a handful of people knew I’d been assigned a boy’s name at birth by my off-her-head mother, and they were all on the Sinners’ council.
When I winked, she just shook her head, then muttered, “Steel, you’re insane.”
His grumbled, “I know,” warmed my heart.
At least the man could accept he was crazy for putting us through what he had.
I appreciated a man who owned up to his mistakes.
Steel
When she came out of the bedroom later that night, the little gauze still taped behind her ear somehow, just visible on the side of her throat, I watched her with a desire I couldn’t hide.
She wore a pair of panties and a slim cami to bed, and the clothes were a lot different than what she’d been wearing before—my tees, usually, with a pair of boxers.
I knew why.
She wanted me, and her body was ready for it.
Well, I could argue over that with her for days. I didn’t think, even if the doctor agreed, that she was on the mend and ready to work soon, but to be honest, Stone did whatever the fuck she wanted.
And right now?
I was whatever the fuck she wanted.
Thank God.
Her cami hid her stomach, which pissed me off. I knew why, but I didn’t like it, only I wasn’t about to push it. Not when her banging tits were peeping out of the V-neck, and the panties were high on the leg, revealing long limbs that I wanted around my waist.
Her gait was smoother than it had been in weeks, and I watched her stroll toward me, loving the healthier look to her.
She’d gained weight since I’d been shoving food in her mouth, and the rounded hips, the swell of her tits, and the strength in her thighs all made me want to attack her, but yeah, that wasn’t going to happen.
I needed to take this slow, even though I was feeling anything but slow.
I sucked in a breath, well aware that my cock was hard, but as she approached me, I had no choice but to slide my hand down to grab my dick. As I jacked off, she stopped, paused, and watched me, her gaze glued to my crotch so I put on a little show, loving how she moaned, loving how she bit her bottom lip.
I groaned when she reached down and cupped herself between her legs, over her panties, and as we stood there watching each other touch ourselves, I knew sex had never been this weird before.
And it wasn’t even fucking weird.
Christ.
But…
I could touch her. Yet she was touching herself.
She could touch me. But I was touching myself.
Stupid, but fuck, it was hot.
I’d waited for her hands to be on me for a lifetime, and here she was, a few feet away, but knowing that she loved the show got me harder, and I watched as she finally slipped her hand through the side of her panties and began touching the good stuff.
“Get rid of them, baby doll,” I rasped, loving that she bit her lip, that she sucked on it as she shucked out of them with her spare hand, leaving her fingers tucked between the lips of that beautiful pussy I couldn’t wait to see.
My mouth watered as she moved them down to her knees, and when she reached up, popping both her tits out of the neckline, even knowing she was self-conscious enough about her scars to do that, it didn’t stop me from feeling like I was going to explode.
I grunted as I reached down and grabbed my balls. Rolling them in my fist, I watched as she moaned, her gaze glued to them, and suddenly, I realized she was watching me like she probably watched porn, and that made shit a thousand times hotter.
Fuck.
I began to jack off, quicker, harder, giving her more of the show so that she’d never need fucking porn again—that was why I was here.
I was her personal fucking BOB.
And the thought was enough to have me leaping off the bed, possessiveness zapping through me like electricity as I surged toward her.
She yelped as I dragged her panties down her legs until they were puddling at her feet, then I picked her up about the thighs, ignoring the pinch of my shoulder as it protested the move, and hauled her high so she was clinging to me, her feet digging into my ass.
When my dick settled in the notch of her pussy, I wanted to congratulate it on a job well done, but hell, talking to my penis wasn’t going to win any awards with my woman.
I grabbed her ass and ground her into me as I joined our mouths together.
She sighed into the kiss, and I sighed into her, loving the taste of her, savoring it, and savoring the fact that she was mine.
In the eyes of the club—the only laws that mattered to me—she was mine, and no one could ever change that.
She wore my brand, and the second I could, I was getting her a fucking cut with my patch on.
I grunted as I slipped my tongue into her mouth, then felt like cursing when she thrust against me, fucking me as much as I was fucking her.
Her cunt was slick around my dick, wet and juicy, making me want to pound into her, but I fucking couldn’t.
I had to be careful with her, and in all honesty, I’d never fucked with care before in my life.
But for her, I’d figure it out, it was just where to start.
I pulled back after I nipped at her pouty top lip, then asked, “How, baby doll? How do I take you?”
She groaned, arched her back, then rubbed her pussy against me. I saw the little flashes of pain on her face, flashes she couldn’t hide, but I knew she was too into it to care about them.
It killed me that she was acclimating to low levels of pain, but she was strong-willed, more so than an ass, and I wasn’t gonna start complaining about that, not after her obstinacy had seen her survive what that bitch had done to her.
“Can I ride you?” That surprised me. My brows rose high, making her laugh. “If you didn’t want that, then why ask?”
I snorted. “Not complaining, baby doll, just surprised. Won’t that hurt your stomach?”
Her nose crinkled. “Fuck! Do you know how many times I’ve jilled off to thoughts of riding you?”
I laughed, leaned down, and kissed her. “We’ve got all the time in the world, baby doll. Let’s not put you back in the hospital. I’d hate for you to face your new colleagues with a sex-related injury on your record.”
She snorted. “At least I’d be fucking cool.” That had her snickering before she muttered, “I-I think maybe
on our sides?”
“Our sides?”
Her nose crinkled, and I sensed her disappointment. “I want nothing more than for you to pound into me, Steel, but…” She grunted, then rested her forehead against mine. “This isn’t going how I wanted it to.”
I shrugged. “As long as my dick ends up home tonight, I don’t care.”
She gulped, and I knew my statement had affected her.
“You mean that?”
“You know I don’t say shit I don’t mean.”
She gnawed on her bottom lip. “I do.”
“Good.” When she gnawed on her lip some more, I growled. “You better stop doing that. Got things I want that mouth to be doing—”
“Have you been tested for STDs?” she blurted out.
“Think I’d sit by your bedside for as long as I have, then put you in danger the second you’re on the mend?” I arched a brow at her, pleased when she ducked her head and rounded her shoulders. “Exactly. I’m clean.”
“You can’t blame me for asking,” she argued. “You were a skank.”
I had to hide a smile at that, but I squeezed her ass cheeks and warned, “You earned two sets of spanks for this conversation. When you’re ready.”
Her pout was even more amusing, because I wasn’t sure if it was for the timing or the fact that I was gonna spank her until it hurt to sit down for even daring to think I’d come to her disease-ridden.
Sure, I’d fucked a lot of bitches in my time, but all with rubbers.
“Tut tut, baby doll,” I rumbled, as I walked us over to the bed and carefully sat down. I was carrying precious cargo, more precious than even the cargo herself fucking knew, and I gripped her tightly, holding on close as I carefully reclined so she was on top of me.
When she moved, I leaned up and sneakily tugged her nipple between my lips, flicking it with my tongue so I could tease her some.
Her high-pitched moan was like the sweetest song, and it was music I’d been longing to hear all my fucking life.
I grunted as I rolled us over so she was on her side. At first, I thought she meant for my front to be touching her back, but she didn’t. She hitched her leg up, reached between us, and though it was awkward, she dragged my dick up and down the length of her sex.
Steel: A Dark MC Romance (A Dark and Dirty Sinners’ MC Book 4) Page 30