He Doesn’t Care_A Bad Boy Secret Baby Motorcycle Club Romance

by Naomi West

  “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered as he pulled her toward him. “Come here.” His bruised lips kissed first one nipple and then the next as he buried his face in her breasts. He licked and suckled, pulling harder as she arched her back to give him better access.

  Blue’s hips moved in slow circles, with Torque’s finding the rhythm and moving in unison, alternately burying him inside her and sliding down his length. She was hot and slick, and already, she felt her body reacting to his. She wanted this to last longer, to last forever, to take all night, but her core wasn’t going to cooperate. Torque was strong and sexy. He had sacrificed himself for her. Biker or not, he had done something nobody else would, and she could no longer refuse to acknowledge what they had together. Pulses of pleasure ran down her body and echoed in her core, rippling around his cock.

  “Yeah, baby. You get what you need,” Torque rumbled. His hands were everywhere on her body, the skin rough but his touch gentle. “Take anything you want.”

  His words did it to her. Blue’s fists curled against the upholstery of the chair as she spasmed around him. She flung her head back, eyes closed once again, determined to enjoy every second of it. She could feel every point of contact between their bodies, and she pressed herself harder into him. Torque felt her pleasure and responded, his dick growing harder and thicker and making her come all over again.

  Blue screamed and flung her fist against the chair as the biker’s nails dug into the flesh of her ass. His head rolled to the side and he growled. They came together, needing, wanting, receiving, satisfied.

  Chapter Seven

  Blue

  The next week was quiet. Customers came in the door, Blue tattooed them, and then they left. It was a steady regime of earning money and moving onto the next client, the same thing she had always known since she had earned her own booth. There was nobody waiting to harass her in the parking lot, and there was no sign of Torque. Blue was grateful. She needed things to return to normal for a while. Things had been far too dramatic ever since Rat had decided to cause trouble at Spencer’s Shop, and life was easier without it.

  But several more weeks slipped by in the same manner, and she was beginning to hate it. The tattoos changed every day, but her work no longer satisfied her. She could only think about Torque, about that one amazing night of his sacrifice and their union. Her body shivered every time she remembered what he could do to her, even when he was beaten and bruised, and Blue longed for more. But she had no way of getting a hold of him, and she wasn’t about to track him down and beg him to return.

  She knew, in a way, that she should be happy. Blue had sworn a long time ago that she would never get involved with a biker. They were no good, and he was only proving it to her. He had swooped in, saved her life twice, let her make a fool of herself, and then he had disappeared. Blue had told him what she thought of men like him, and she should be thrilled that he was staying out of her life. They both knew that she wasn’t suited for club life. She’d gotten what she needed and it was time to move on.

  She and Spencer were both in her booth one day, working together on a massive backpiece. The man on the table had been coming to the shop since it opened, and Spencer always gave him preferential treatment. He was a surgeon in Los Angeles, and he certainly didn’t look the type to have a big tattoo. The doctor was clean cut and wealthy, but his lab coat and button-down shirt would hide his new ink well.

  “Did you order more black ink on the last shipment?” Spencer asked as he adjusted his machine and brought it back down against the man’s flesh. “I was looking for some in the supply closet this morning, and it didn’t look like there was much left.”

  “Yeah.”

  “You doing all right today? You seem quiet.”

  Blue scowled at her work. “So?”

  Spencer shrugged. “You just don’t really seem yourself, that’s all. You haven’t for a while.”

  “I’m fine.” Blue wasn’t about to discuss it with him, and especially not in front of a customer. Spencer had mentioned once or twice in the week following Torque’s last visit that he hadn’t seen him around for a while, but Blue had refrained from telling him anything about what had happened. As far as the shop owner knew, the biker had gotten the rest of his tattoo and gone home without incident. He didn’t need to know any more than that.

  She focused on the tattoo, a backpiece of the Rod of Asclepius. She hadn’t known the name of the snake twisted around a staff that represented medicine and healing prior to this, but that was the thing about her job. There was always something new to learn, whether she wanted to or not. Either her clients told her, or she had to look it up to ensure her work didn’t end up on some list of tattoo regrets on the internet.

  But try as she might, she couldn’t keep her head where it belonged. Her mind wandered to Torque and the way his body looked when he had been in this chair the last time. Had his bruises healed? Had he blamed her for what Rat had done to him? Was he staying away from her because she had moved too fast, or because he thought she wanted more from their relationship than casual sex? Blue wasn’t even sure what she wanted from it.

  And when she tried to find something else to think about, her mind only took her down a dark hole to much worse places. Memories of her childhood came flashing to her mind unbidden, no doubt brought on by thinking about bikers and clubs so much lately.

  “Good morning, Blue. Happy Birthday,” Mother whispered.

  Blue’s eyes fluttered open slowly, and then she shot out of bed. “What are you doing up so early?” she asked. “It isn’t even lunchtime yet.”

  Mother laughed. The lines around her mouth and eyes had deepened over the last year, and she had been in the tanning beds again. Combined with her overdyed hair, it made her look like a slim piece of rawhide. There was still a hint at her former beauty in her eyes, though, which were traced in a deep black eyeliner. “Maybe I’m excited about your birthday, too. It’s not every day a young woman turns twelve.”

  “What are we going to do today?” Blue headed to the closet and began yanking shirts down off the hangers. She had to find the perfect one. Mother had always let her choose her own clothes, and it didn’t matter if they matched or if they were even appropriate for her age. Blue plucked a teal T-shirt with a long hemline and black leggings out of the closet and yanked them on.

  “Well, I have some errands to run.” Mother looked down at the shabby carpeting in the bedroom, flicking the nap with her toes. “I won’t be able to do any official birthday stuff until after that.”

  Blue felt her shoulders sag, her thoughts of cake and ice cream and a day at the roller-skating rink dying before they ever reached her tongue. “But you always have things to do and errands to run. Can’t you stay home with me? Just for today? Or I could go with you,” she said quickly as she saw Mother begin to shake her head. “I’ll wait quietly, and then when you’re done we can go to the diner or something.”

  “You’re very sweet, baby, but sometimes there are things adults have to do alone. I’ll be back in time for dinner, and then we’ll do something fun, okay?” Mother rose and left the bedroom without looking at her daughter.

  Blue made herself breakfast, which included a massive pile of frozen waffles and a lake of syrup. She sat on the floor in front of the television and left her plate on the coffee table when she was done. It wasn’t unusual for Blue to fend for herself during the early hours of the day. She had long been used to getting up to her alarm clock, getting herself ready, and heading off to school before her mother so much as thought about getting out of bed. It was Saturday, so her routine of watching cartoons alone in the living room wasn’t broken.

  When her stomach rumbled at lunchtime, she left the television long enough to dig a Hot Pocket out of the freezer and open a can of Coke. Someone knocked on the door and Blue answered, the soda still in her hand.

  “Hey!” It was Alyssa, her best friend from down the street. “You wanna hang out today?”

  Blu
e shrugged. “We can, but we’d have to do it here. My mom’s going to be back in a little bit, and we’re going to do something special for my birthday.” She purposely didn’t look at the clock. There was no use in counting the hours, because Mother’s schedule was always unpredictable.

  “That’s cool.”

  The two girls sat in front of the TV and emptied the fridge. They played in the backyard until the sun became too much for them. They dug out an old video game and realized they were too old for it.

  “I think I know a boy who likes you,” Alyssa teased as they lounged on Blue’s bed and ate a stash of strawberry licorice they’d found in the back of the cabinet. She flung her black hair over the edge of the mattress and waggled her eyebrows.

  “I don’t care.” Blue ripped another piece of candy out of the bag and whipped it through the air a few times before she finally bit off the end of it.

  “Come on. Sure you do. There’s going to be a school dance at the end of the month, and maybe he’ll take you.”

  “It’s not Jacob Mifflin, is it? I’ve known he’s liked me for a long time, and I wouldn’t go to the dance with him if my life depended on it.”

  “Why not?” Alyssa demanded.

  “He’s a fat slob, and he hasn’t combed his hair in a month.” Blue ran a hand through her own pale brown hair, which sported a thick streak of blue on the left side. It was just temporary, but Mother hadn’t objected.

  Alyssa shrugged. “Yeah, that’s true. But he’s smart. He’ll probably grow up to be rich or something.”

  “Like I give a shit. I’d rather be poor and happy than rich and miserable.” That had been Mother’s mantra for the last few years, ever since they had moved to this house. It was the longest they had stayed in one spot, and Blue was hopeful that this was the end of constantly changing houses and schools.

  Eventually, Alyssa’s mom came around looking for her.

  “Why didn’t you tell me where you were going?” she reprimanded when the girls opened the door. Her mouth was a hard line as she studied her daughter, her eyes glancing to Blue every few seconds. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

  “Sorry,” Alyssa said with a roll of her eyes.

  Mrs. Walker sighed and turned to the other girl. “Blue, can I talk to your mom for a second? I was going to see if she’d be willing to help out with the PTO fundraiser.”

  Shifting her feet uncomfortably, Blue stared at the threshold. “I don’t think she’d want to.”

  “Let me just ask her, dear.”

  Mother left all the time. Blue had often heard the front door click softly shut after she had gone to bed for the night, not to open again until the sun was just barely lifting over the horizon. But it felt different now that another adult was about to know. “She, um, she isn’t here right now.”

  “Oh, did she run down to the store for a second?” Alyssa’s mom looked so tall and so soft, with a paunch of a belly and sagging breasts from dedicating her life to her children. She wasn’t hard and lean like Mother.

  Blue wondered if Alyssa curled up on the couch with her mother at night, and if they talked about things like how their days went and what was on television that night. “She just had some things to do. She’ll be back by dinner.”

  Mrs. Walker’s eyebrows furrowed, but she straightened her face again instantly. “Sweetheart, it’s already well past dinnertime. Why don’t you come back home with us and I’ll fix you a nice spaghetti supper?”

  Her heart thundered with fear, but her stomach rumbled. “But she won’t know where I went …”

  “We’ll just leave her a note, dear.” Mrs. Walker stepped boldly into the kitchen and rummaged through the drawers for a notepad and a pen. Her hands moved swiftly, irritably, and she had the job done quickly. “Let’s go, girls.”

  Mrs. Walker’s voice from the other room as she made several phone calls while the girls ate their spaghetti still echoed in Blue’s mind. That day had been the beginning of a whole new life for her. It wasn’t necessarily any better or worse than what she’d had with Mother, it had just been different. Alyssa’s mom had been kind when she had taken her in, but that had only lasted so long. The government had swooped in with their counselors and their paperwork, and everyone had thought they knew what kind of decisions they should make for her. When Blue had gone home to gather her things, the note still lay on the table, unread.

  “Are you with me?”

  Blue blinked and looked up. “What?”

  “You’re just sitting there, staring,” Spencer explained gently. “What’s going on?”

  “I told you, I’m fine.” Tears stung the back of her eyes, something that surprised her and only pissed her off more. She wasn’t the kind to cry, and certainly not because of something so silly. What must the client on the table think of her, the girl who was supposed to be the best artist in town and couldn’t even keep it together enough to get through a session?

  “Geez, okay. I guess it must be that time of the month or something.” Spencer shook his head and turned his machine back on.

  His words struck her like a fist. When was the last time she’d had her period? It had been far too long. A wave of nausea and horror washed over her, but she forced her hands to keep moving. There was no point in worrying until she knew something for certain. Women missed their periods all the time for all sorts of silly reasons. This guy had booked his session and was paying a lot of money for this tat, and it wasn’t fair of her to shortchange him just because she was being a worrywart. Blue blinked hard and focused on the deep green of the snake. She traced each of his scales in a dark green before coming back with a lighter shade to fill them in. Everything was fine.

  Later, when they were done and the booth had been cleaned, Blue ran a hand through her hair and sat down heavily. “I know I have other appointments set, but I need to go home.”

  Spencer pushed the button to start the sterilizer and looked at her. “You want to talk to me about it? I’m not a doctor, but I did stay at a Holiday Inn once.”

  She smiled and shook her head. “I’m sure it’s nothing. Probably just a virus. There’s no telling what people bring in here with them.”

  He pursed his lips. “You want me to drive you home? You look pale.”

  “I’m always pale,” she argued.

  “Okay, paler than usual. Which is pretty damn white, if you ask me. You’re almost as blue as your hair under your eyes.

  “I feel pale,” Blue admitted, touching her fingers to her face and then looking at them as though the colors would come off. “But no. You’ve still got plenty of work to do, and I think I just need a little rest. I’ll be fine. I promise. Stop looking at me like that.” She already felt weak, but she didn’t need anyone to confirm it. The pitiful glances from Spencer only made her feel sorry for herself.

  Gathering her purse, phone, and keys, Blue stepped out into the heat of the day. It was a relief against her clammy skin, and she closed her eyes as she got in her car. After driving a block with the windows down, the heat was too much and she flicked on the air conditioning. A loud whirring sounded from under the hood as a halfhearted stream of cool air filtered from the vents. She was glad it was only a short drive home, or she probably wouldn’t have been able to make it. Throwing herself down on the couch, Blue stared up at the ceiling and wondered just what the hell she was going to do.

  Chapter Eight

  Torque

  Torque rolled over and looked at the clock, but he didn’t really see it. The time of day hadn’t mattered for several weeks, and the days and nights had blurred together until he had to look at his phone to figure it out. His body had been damaged in that fight with Rat, and it had been a long road to recovery.

  That fateful night at Spencer’s Shop had been a surreal one. Torque had never before just given up and let someone beat him. If someone had asked him if he’d be willing to do such a thing, he would have laughed them off without a thought. But it had been different when he’d seen tha
t gun pressed to Blue’s neck, and Torque would have done almost anything to get Rat to leave her alone. Blue had paid him back in the best way she knew how, but there had still been the matter of getting home.

  “Is there somewhere I can take you?” Blue had asked. Her hands had been clasped in front of her, twisting together uselessly as she stood near the front door of the shop. “A hospital, maybe?”

  “I don’t need it,” Torque had assured her. “I’ll be fine.”

  She had nodded, but the uncertainty had been clear on her face. “Okay, but you can’t ride your bike in this condition. Let me at least give you a ride.”