He gave her a tighter squeeze. “If I was on my own I wouldn’t get to see you skinny dip.”
With a gasp her hands tightened on his arms. “We’re skinny dipping?”
“Of course we are. Quiet, ignored beach with the motel close by. It’s perfect.”
“I’ve never skinny dipped.”
He brought his lips right to her ear. “It’ll be our secret.”
“Can we have supper first?”
He stepped away and pulled on her hand to turn her around and follow him back inside. “You’re hungry again?”
She stopped and pressed her hands to her belly. “Do I eat too much?”
Buck titled his head as he slid the patio door closed. “What? No. Why the hell would you say that?”
She frowned and looked down. “I’ve always had this pooch right here. It bothers me.”
Buck sighed, somewhat disappointed with her lapse into chick self-image. “Are you insane?”
“But it’s there.”
He shrugged out of his unmarked leather jacket before getting onto his knees in front of her. She laughed, not expecting that, then she was silent as he slid his hands under her shirt, pushing the hem upwards to uncover her tummy.
Buck pressed a kiss to her skin above her bellybutton, then another below, then one more on each side. She made soft sounds as he did it, then he nipped at her skin with his teeth and looked up at her. “The way you’re put together doesn’t bother me at all, Gertie.”
Her eyes got all warm and soft as she ran her fingers into the hair at his temples. Buck stilled, closing his eyes. Jesus, his mother used to do that to him years and years ago. He didn’t know how much he missed it until right then.
Swiftly he rose to his full height, catching her face in his hands and kissing her deeply, suddenly enough that she gave a gasp of surprise. When a gurgle sounded they both broke the kiss with laughter, his hands dropping to her stomach.
“All right,” he relented. “My girl needs to eat.”
“Am I?” she breathed, eyes still warm and happy looking.
“Are you what?”
“Your girl?”
Buck pressed his mouth to hers briefly before replying, “Absolutely.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Her skin was so cold it felt like it was burning. Her goose bumps had goose bumps. But Gertie wasn’t getting out of the water for anything.
Her legs were wrapped around Buck’s waist, he was kissing her like he wanted to consume her, and his hand was between her legs, two fingers working her in that remarkable way he had, his thumb keeping contact on her clit as she moved her hips with the motion of his hand. They were naked in the moonlight, in the ocean, and she was four seconds from orgasm. Three, two, one …
Gertie moaned into Buck’s mouth, not wanting to part her lips from his but everything had to stop so she could let this wash over her. The cold and her shyness was long gone.
She pulled her mouth from his to rest her forehead on his, catching her breath. “Oh my God,” she panted, eyes closed while the aftershocks twitched through her.
“We gotta get inside,” he growled, surprising her.
“What?”
“We have to warm up in the shower, wash the salt off. And then I can get inside you like I really want to.”
She quivered at that, smiling. “Okay.”
He let her down to her feet again, the texture of the sand missed on her soles because of her numb extremities. But all the good parts were feeling plenty. On the beach they’d left their towels, Buck his jeans. They wrapped their vital bits and he tossed his denim over his shoulder for the walk. They held hands all the way through the breezeway and up the stairs to their room.
Inside Gertie headed right for the washroom to start the water, turning it on full hot. With a sigh she tightened up her ponytail on top of her head as Buck joined her, naked and cold but still looking fantastic. He was eyeing her up in the mirror for a moment, then reached out and yanked her towel away, making her giggle. She darted around him to get the showerhead flowing then stepped over the edge of the tub. He followed, closing the curtain then backing her against the wall, dropping his head so his mouth covered hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck, relaxing into his body. It was becoming familiar, but it was still so exciting. She was his.
Between embraces and touching they rinsed each other off, which was fun. But he got carried away, as usual, and was quickly on his knees, one of her legs over his shoulder while his tongue and lips brought her to climax again, gasping and panting over the sound of the water. It was the work of thirty seconds for him to finish her, or so it seemed. He had her so figured out already.
She was steadying her breath and leaning against the wall in sleepy satisfaction as Buck stood, shoving the curtain aside to grab something off the toilet tank. Before she could fully recover he turned her around to face the wall. “Is this okay?” he growled into her hair, hands running up over her ribs and to her breasts to tease her nipples.
“Yes,” she gasped out, receiving a pinch on both nipples in reward. With a grunt Buck filled her with a fluid thrust and her hips angled for him, almost out of memory. It was a frantic, loud and almost violent clashing of bodies. Gertie cried out in orgasm moments before he did, her body milking him through his. No words, just animalistic sounds. It was almost like returning to civilization when he parted their bodies, making her whimper.
They finished showering and soaping up before rinsing off, more playful activities she had likely never enjoyed as much as she did right then. Once they’d mostly dried off they fell into bed again, and once they were between the sheets they cuddled close and talked. Actually talked.
She shared more about her brothers and her father, even told him a little more about her mother. He told her about growing up in Markham, the armed robbery he was convicted of just before his twentieth birthday, and how his father had disowned him once he’d gone inside.
“So, he just doesn’t talk to you? But your mom does?”
He was running his fingers over her arm, not hard enough to tickle. Just enough to feel nice. “He outright pretends I don’t exist, actually. But I go over and see my mom sometimes, as long as I know the old man’s at work or something.”
“Does that bother you?” she whispered, eyes closed. Having him holding and stroking her like that was so incredibly relaxing.
“I don’t know. I mean, my brothers ignoring me hurts more. They’re following Pop’s example. If I feel bad at all it’s because it just puts Mom in the middle, and that’s not cool.”
“How long have you been a … Red Rebel?” she asked softly, tensed to see if that question bothered him.
“Since I got out of jail. Prospected for almost two years before I got in.”
“Prospected? Is that, like, auditioning?”
He chuckled. “It’s more like a hazing. You do everything asked, and that usually includes most of the shit work no one wants to do.”
Gertie rose up to one elbow, looking down at him. “What are the Red Rebels exactly? Is it your job, whatever you do with them? How do you have money for a house?
He stopped touching her in such a nice way, his hand staying put. Gertie bit her lip, wondering if she should have just kept her mouth shut. Then he finally gave a faint smile, brushing her hair back over her shoulder. “I’m a mechanic. Mickey’s got a shop, we do some small engine repair work. Some guys work construction. Tiny drives a semi from time to time. Fritter’s running a landscaping company but I don’t think he does much business.” He paused, eyes trailing over her face. “We run the strip club that’s attached to the clubhouse, it makes us pretty good money.”
She took a deep breath. “What else does the club do?” she basically whispered.
His hands tightened, the one on her arm, and the other one around the back of her neck. She wasn’t scared, but she needed him to give her some indication she was allowed to ask this or not.
“We have a few other business
ventures,” Buck shared smoothly.
He didn’t elaborate, so she tried to pull it out. “The kind of ventures that are documented and reported to the IRS?”
He stared at her for a beat then burst out laughing in that Buck laugh that always loosened something in her belly. She relaxed a bit because he did, his hand pulling her back to his chest. He kissed the top of her head as she fell into her spot, stretched out along his side. “Are you asking if it’s legal?”
“Can I ask that?” she countered. Mostly she didn’t want to be in trouble with the rest of his friends. She trusted that Buck wouldn’t get mad enough to do anything drastic to her.
“You can always ask,” he assured her, his hand running along her arm again, soothing her out. “But I might not always answer you.”
A cold lump made itself known in her stomach. She’d been expecting that kind of revelation, and while it gave her a moment of pause amidst all the warm-and-fuzzies of their weekend, she didn’t hop out of bed and demand a bus ticket home immediately. She wrapped her arm across his stomach, hitching it around his side. “Okay,” she answered.
With another chuckle he gave her a squeeze. “You can ask, I mean that Gertie. Ask me whatever you want. I would ask that you not take your questions to anyone else in the club, but ask me anyway. Okay?”
She nodded.
“And trust that I’ll protect you. If I keep things from you, it’s just for your own good. And I really mean that, too.”
“Okay,” she repeated softly, mind reeling. She tried to work up some panic, tried to let this really bother her, but for some reason it wasn’t. He was confirming what she had suspected, and nothing was changing for her.
She wanted to be with him.
“I like the idea of taking care of you,” Buck was musing, starting to twist her hair around his fingers. That felt nice, too. “So I need you to always tell me what’s going on with you. And tell me if anything seems wrong or suspicious. Can you do that?”
“So … I have to tell you everything and you choose what you can tell me?”
In a flash she was on her back, his weight pressing her into the mattress. For a split second she felt fear, then she noted his sly smile, his eyes hooded and sexy, and she relaxed. “Are you going to give me lip?”
“About what?”
“When I give you an order.”
He was teasing her, and his erection pressing against her thigh was distracting. “You can’t give me orders. I’m not your employee.”
“If you’re my girl you better do as asked,” he growled, mouth and tongue on her throat.
“If you’re my man every order better be followed up with exactly what you’re doing right now,” she replied, eyes closing as his teeth scraped along her collarbone, beard rough on her skin. She quivered, fingers spearing into his hair.
“That’s a deal,” he mumbled against her skin. One hand came up to cup her breast and tease her nipple, his thumb just passing over it.
Gertie groaned and arched her back, making him chuckle which of course caused that familiar shudder. “Boss me around some more,” she pleaded, pulling up on his hair so that he was kissing her again.
“Open those legs for me,” he whispered and she complied, knees parting. His hand sought out her private skin again, and she moaned to be touched like this. Gertie doubted she’d ever be too tired or sore to be with him.
“That’s my girl,” he drawled, fingers teasing and pleasing her in turns. “Now. You’re going to go down on me for a bit. Then I’ll return the favor, just because I like the taste of that pussy. Then we’re fucking until we fall asleep. That’s how it’s happening.”
“Okay,” was all she could reply, then enjoyed following through on every demand.
Chapter Thirty-Two
The sun was warm on his face, the wind mild, and Buck had never known this level of contentment before. It sat on his shoulders like an unfamiliar outfit, but he was too happy to give a shit if it made him a schmuck.
That morning he and Gertie had made love twice more, had brunch in the motel diner and then headed back to Bakersfield. Gertie had to fly to Vancouver the next day, she told him reluctantly. He didn’t dwell on the fact that he was going to miss her, and the fact that she seemed as though she was going to miss him, too.
They barely had to stop on the way home. Gertie was either too wiped to be hungry or the bugs they were catching in their teeth were holding her over. He parked the bike in front of her building. He offered to come up for a while but she held him off with that torn, conflicted smile.
“I have to get my laundry done,” she insisted, leaning into his leg and body while he stayed on his bike. His arm snaked around her lower back, pulling her closer. “And I have to get some sleep.”
“Sleep’s overrated,” he murmured against her lips, which made her giggle as he kissed her goodbye.
“Thank you for this weekend,” she whispered against his lips.
His hand dropped down to squeeze one ass cheek. “Thank you honey,” he returned, giving her a wink and a grin as he slid his sunglasses back on. He watched her walk through the glass doors, giving a nod to the doorman before taking off, heading back to the familiar streets of Markham.
Buck wasn’t twisted up and torn. He didn’t debate with himself over and over if being with Gertie was a good idea or a disaster. He didn’t feel like he was handing his balls over to anyone, or losing his edge or his independence or whatever else people tried to tell themselves to change their own minds about what they’d decided. And none of that shit about the club being dangerous for her. He could take care of her, and her being in the city meant she had that extra buffer from his world and its enemies.
His warm feeling of contentment grew deeper as he entered Markham’s town limits again. At the clubhouse he parked, still smiling, and killed his engine, leaving his bike in its spot. Stowing his helmet away he was shrugging off his leather jacket and crossing the asphalt lot to the clubhouse door when it swung open, Jayce stalking out, wincing against the sunshine and shielding his eyes. It was a moment before he saw Buck, and when he did he dropped his hand.
“’Bout fucking time,” Jayce growled, hands on his hips. His glare was strong today, and Buck was wondering what he had missed.
“What’s up?” Buck asked, immediately on duty.
“Caught a G-Town dealer selling right here in Markham,” he snarled, and Buck knew where the anger was coming from. “Knuckles and Tiny got him back in the stall.”
“When’d you get him?”
“Last night.”
That meant this G-Town fuck had been in pain for about twelve hours. Not someone to envy, but the asshole brought it on himself. Or, at least, his boss had. Buck had expected to catch some unconnected idiot dealing in town, one with a debt owed to either the Gypsys or G-Town or both. Not an actual member.
“He talking?”
Jayce shrugged. “As much as you’d expect. G-Town doesn’t feel the need to run their business plans past us. They sent him in.”
Buck’s jaw tightened as he saw the fury in Jayce’ expression. An MC president should be calm and controlled. Any Rebel would follow Jayce through a minefield, but the man had a tendency to fly off the handle. That’s why they leaned on Tank so much. He mellowed Jayce out, a calm voice in his ear to keep him from acting up without thinking. Buck would expect it was Tank who sent him out here to get some air.
“I’ll go check in,” Buck offered and Jayce nodded, stalking over to a collapsible lawn chair to sit in. Buck left him to his thoughts and stepped into the clubhouse, letting his eyes adjust to the dark. He could hear the screaming from the stall at the far end of the building, behind the kitchen. He headed that way, nodding to the sweetbutts who were preparing lunch. They were impervious to the sounds in the adjoining room.
The “stall” was once a warehouse. It had a huge, rumbling overhead door, a hoist connected to the center of the ceiling, and plain cinderblock walls with matching concrete floor wit
h a huge drain. Perfect for clean-up. There was also a huge, stainless steel trough sink along one wall with an industrial-strength sprayer attachment on the faucet.
A young black man was stripped to the waist, his hands over his head, held in place by heavy chains attached to the hoist. He was really fucking young, which likely explained why he hadn’t been outright killed by now.
Tiny and Knuckles had gone easy on him somewhat. He was beaten, yes. But nothing major; the worst would be a bruised rib. The hits they’d landed caused bruises and swelling but they weren’t going for internal bleeding. His eyes were swollen shut, his lips and brow split. For Buck, the worst part would be hanging by the arms for that long. They probably strung him up the night before and started on him today, giving him time to be tired, hurting, and plenty freaked out from imagining what they were going to do to him.
Buck took a position against the wall next to Tank, who was sucking on the stub of a fat cigar. The kid was blubbering, crying. From someone so young, it did bother Buck a lot.
“Almost done?” he asked Tank quietly.
“Yeah,” Tank confirmed, and that made Buck feel better. They were going to send him back to his boys as a bloody message delivered. It would escalate things and the club couldn’t be seen as soft.
“He had that orange Oxy,” Tank went on. “It appears that their supplier is sketchy. They go through dry spells, they seem to be having trouble keeping up.”
Buck nodded as Knuckles approached, hand out. Tank handed over his cigar. Knuckles gave Buck a nod before turning back to his subject. Buck knew better than to talk to him when he was in that state.
The cigar was pressed over the tats on the kid’s fingers, the G-Town ink that marked him as a member. Knuckles held it in place on one finger until the kid screamed, pulled it away and held it over another letter, doing the same thing.
It was a shitty thing to do, but he was living past today so that was the bright side.
“Didn’t get much more from him than that,” Tank shared, returning to Buck and tossing his cigar to the ground, grinding out the cherry with his boot heel. “He’s just a foot soldier.”
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