The Diary of Bink Cummings: Vol 3 (MC Chronicles #3)

by Bink Cummings

  Running his bottom lip over the edge of my jaw, breathing just as heavy as I am, he inches upward to my mouth. Caressing my lips with his, he smiles to my mouth. “I hate to cut this short, Sugar Tits, but I know if I let this go on any longer, I’ll be balls deep in that sweet lil pussy.” As if I didn’t already know, Big thrusts his hips a fraction to press his length firmly to my thigh. “See what you do to me?” he pecks my lips. “I already miss ya, and I haven’t even left yet.”

  His voice drops to a low grumble, speaking to my lips, “I’m not gonna fuck up again, ya got me?”

  I lightly nod. I really don’t want to talk about this right now.

  “This,” he releases my hair and reaches up to sever my hold on his neck. Wrapping his hand around one of mine, he brings it to his heart. I flatten my hand, laying my palm over his pounding organ. I can feel each beat thump against my palm. Big doesn’t speak. I watch my hand on his chest and his that covers mine, hiding it under its massive size.

  “This is yours,” he presses his hand harder to mine, explaining without words what he means. His heart is mine. My eyes mist with emotion. I hate that he can go from turning me on to making me feel like this in a matter of a few seconds. What I hate more is I don’t even know what this exactly is. All I do know is I can feel my chest tighten and my throat constrict, while my palms dampen. Son of a bitch, I can’t take this anymore. I need a time out. I need a fucking breather.

  What kind of man goes from brushing his gorgeous cock against your thigh to explaining that you’re the one who owns his heart? What did this man do with the Big I’ve known my entire life? What happened to the brash, control freak, asshole of a biker, who didn’t take shit from anyone? Where is he now? He’s sure as hell isn’t in this room. I’m not sitting on that biker’s lap. I’m sitting on some man’s lap who looks, smells, and talks like my Big, but he’s not him. This man is soft, and his face is warm as he grins lovingly at our palms on his chest, while his other hand holds me safely in his lap. I watch just as his eyes move from our hands to our daughter. And I just about lose it. Yes, I need a goddamn breather. This is too fucking much.

  I hold my breath and blink rapidly. I’m gonna fuckin’ cry. I can’t cry dammit. Not now. Not here. The damp hand over his heart begins to shake. Oh, hell no, I am not going to turn into one of those soft mushy, marshmallow bitches. Not after last night, not ever. But fuck, here it comes….. A tear drops down my cheek, and I curse it. I curse being a female and being hormonal. I can’t cry. I can’t be like this. Fuck you ovaries.

  Big takes his hand off mine, swipes the tear with his finger, and brings it to his mouth, licking it clean. That should gross me out, but it doesn’t. It’s sweet. This is all too sweet.

  “Don’t cry, Sugar Tits. I’m gonna make this up to you,” he places his hand back over mine. “We’re gonna get past this shit, and I’m gonna miss you like hell when I’m gone.”

  He looks over his shoulder to the clock and grumbles, “Fuck, it’s about time we go.”

  I catch the time, and he’s right. We’re already late.

  Leaning in, Big gives me a chaste kiss and pries both of our hands off his beating heart. Together he brings them down to our daughter.

  Cupping his hand over mine, he presses against my swollen belly. “She’s gonna be beautiful, and you can bet your fuckin’ ass I’m not gonna be doin’ anything to hurt her or you ever again. Ya got me?”

  I nod, holding back a whole fucking sea of blubbering mess. Badass bitch, I’m a badass bitch. Not a wussy, not a prissy bitch crier, not a marshmallow. Over and over, I repeat the mantra in my head.

  “Tell me,” he demands pleasantly.

  “I got ya.”

  “Good,” he kisses my temple. “Now let’s go before this gets any harder for me.”

  With help, Big slides me off his lap. Safely standing on two feet, I head for the bedroom door and glance over my shoulder to catch him adjusting his erection in his jeans, grinning like a madman.

  “It’s gonna take a while for it to go down,” he comments, sauntering to join me by the exit. He places his hand on my lower back. I feel his touch shoot straight to my heart, as the heat from his palm seeps through the fabric of my top, warming me from the inside out. I swallow hard stepping over the threshold into the hallway. A lone tear runs out of the side of my eye, and I catch it with the sweep of my hand before it falls. This is like a walk of doom or destiny or whatever you want to call it. It sucks.

  Walking out of the bedroom and down the hall, Big follows right on my tail, refusing to let me move more than a few steps ahead of him. I smile on the inside at his sweetness, but keep my face even, and try to keep my emotions in check.

  Jezebel’s house is now empty. Everyone is probably up by the clubhouse ready to see the brothers off. We make our way out the front door and down the steps where Big takes my hand into his, and we leisurely walk in silence to the front of the compound, where the sounds of bikes revving is music to my ears.

  The dirt and gravel parking lot alongside the clubhouse is lined with bikes. Women and children line the roadway watching their family recheck their saddlebags. Big gives my hand one final squeeze before letting me go and leaning down to peck me on the forehead. He makes his way over to Onyx, who’s parked at the head of the lineup and loaded down with all of Big’s necessities.

  Pixie approaches me and throws an arm over my shoulder. I stand by the wayside allowing many of the sisters and their children to see their old men off, not wanting to seem too forgiving of Big and his antics from last night. Even after our makeup session— or whatever the hell you would call what just went down. I’ve not forgotten his actions, and I can’t seem like a naive little bitch by clinging to him like nothing happened. I don’t work that way, even if I forgive him just a fraction. I’m an emotional mess, but I’m not gonna display it openly. He’s got a helluva lot more groveling to do before we get to open displays of affection. That, and he’s a big boy. He can recheck his Hog and saddlebags himself. It’s killing me to watch from the sidelines, as he kneels in the dirt next to his bike rifling through everything to make sure he’s good to go, while fucking up my beautiful pack job in the process. I spent a long time working on those damn bags. Having to watch them get ruined in a matter of seconds is making me cringe. Guess that’s better than crying.

  Blimp and Brew straddle their bikes and roll them out to the open pavement. Dixie slides out of the way to let them through before she goes to stand next to her old man. Jezebel and her kids give their final hugs and kisses, just as Bulk starts up his Hog. Miss. H seems reluctant to let go of her daddy’s neck, but finally releases it when he gives her one more kiss on the nose. Bulk sets her down beside his bike. Miss. H does a small dive to cling to her mama’s leg, while her brother stays nestled in Jez’s arms.

  “Longest trip yet for Jez,” Pixie comments from beside me.

  I nod in understanding, and my sights drift over to Big once again. This time Gunz is with him, and they’re exchanging some sort of instructions. Club business would be my guess.

  A muscled arm playfully bumps into mine from behind. I sideways glance to catch Deke sidling up beside me, Ginger and Cherry in tow.

  “Hey,” I greet him and his daughters, flashing them a genuine smile.

  “We need to talk about what happened last night,” Deke blurts gruffly, without the common courtesy of saying hello first. Well hello to you too, Mr. Grumpypants. Guilt must be riding him hard. Unfortunately that’s pretty common for Deke.

  For the moment, I ignore his comment. It’s not the time, nor the place to talk about this. We’ll discuss it later.

  Cherry and Ginger stand in front of their dad, with his arms draped over their little shoulders. They seem taken with the sight before us of all the brothers and their bikes ready to roll out. It’s something I’ve seen so many times, I never think about how newbies, especially children, find it fascinating. Even though this is a small posse of men compared to many of the rides I�
��ve seen or been on, it’s something everybody should experience at least once in their life.

  Bulk rolls forward onto the blacktop, along with Mickey and Gypsy. My brother Jizz is next to straddle his matte black beauty. He flashes me a bright smile and a two finger wave as he starts her up. I grin and singularly nod back. Then he too pulls forward into the lineup facing the front gate. His front tire nearly grazes Mickey’s rear one.

  Dallas gives Debbie a lasting kiss when he dips her over his bike and devours her mouth, while both of their sons stand at the wayside, staring at the ground like they’re used to shielding their eyes from their parent’s spicy relationship. I’ve seen this same display from them before every run. Once, I saw Dallas pull up Debbie’s skirt and fuck her over his bike just before they rolled out. As you can see they both have their names for good reason.

  Tripper and Candy Cane say their goodbye with chaste kisses and passing of notes they always exchange before he leaves. Tripper reaches into his cut to secure his to read later. This is something they’ve been doing for years. I know Candy Cane has a box that she stores them in under their bed with years of notes from years of runs.

  Viper catches my attention for a brief second when he stuffs his gun back into his saddlebag and winks at me before blowing an exaggerated kiss my way. I reach up to catch it with an innocent grin. Pretending to look at the invisible kiss in my hand, my grin turns sinister, and I slap that hand to my ass, rubbing it in extra hard to make my point. Viper throws his head back and belts laughter toward the sky. The sounds of his laughter is muffled by the roar of the motorcycles rumbling. Then he too, still amused, rolls his bike forward joining the pack.

  This leaves my Daddy, Runner, Axel, and Big to join their brothers. Pixie and I both pat each other’s backs in a silent good luck and pull away at the same time. She heads for her old man, and I head for my daddy. I don’t hesitate when I throw my arms around his neck, and he folds his arms around me, holding me close.

  “Be good, my girl,” he yells to my ear, over the rumble his own bike.

  I nod to his shoulder, “Yes, Daddy.”

  He kisses my temple before I break away from his hug.

  His finger reaches out and taps me on the nose. I giggle like a child. “I heard what happened last night. You gotta get that ironed out,” Daddy remarks.

  The need to wince at the thought of last night crosses my mind, but I hold it back and double nod my understanding instead.

  Daddy grabs hold of my shirt and tugs me closer for a moment. His mouth touches my ear. “I’ll keep an eye on him. Don’t you worry,” he reassures me.

  I smile warmly. My daddy’s on my side, and maybe he’ll keep Big from doing anything stupid. I can only hope. The smallest bit of relief washes through me at my daddy’s kindness. I know he can’t do much to control his Prez, but maybe he can prevent him from getting too drunk and making another stupid fucking mistake. Although, when I think about it, why should one grown man have to corral another? Isn’t he old enough to know better without guidance from my daddy? Plus, Big just promised again that he wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize our relationship. Maybe this time it will stick. One can only hope.

  It’s my turn to speak to my daddy’s ear, “Thanks dad, but he’s a grown ass man. Let him fuck up on his own. He’s gotta learn to keep his dick to himself one way or another.”

  I feel my daddy’s face brush against mine, as he nods his agreement. “Okay, whatever you say, my girl,” he yells over the roar of another biker added to the pack.

  I give him another brief hug and let him go. Taking a few steps back, I let him roll forward to join his brothers. Now it’s time to face the music and say goodbye to Big. Gunz and Deke are among the group of old ladies and children, who are all standing behind the line of rumbling bikes. Big is the last to sit in the dirt, straddling his bike, waiting for me to say my goodbye. It’s hard to say bye to him after everything we’ve been through in the past year. This is our first official run as a couple, even if I haven’t exactly accepted his claim of being his old lady quite yet.

  I stroll over to him, not wanting to seem too eager for him to leave or too sad. I’ve gotta remain neutral. I know it’s hard enough for him to handle with this run to god knows where doing whatever the hell they’re doing. At least I’ll have an entire weekend to keep my mind off Big and what he may or may not be doing. Not that I’d dwell that much on it anyhow. I’m not that kinda girl.

  Stopping by Big’s bike, he releases his handlebar and reaches for me. Snagging me around the waist, he tugs me forward. I stop just as my stomach touches the edge of Onyx’s tank. Big leans forward and kisses my cheek to my nose and down to my mouth. Without thinking, I settle my hands on his shoulders. I can’t give him a lousy goodbye no matter how much of a cheating bastard he is. Fuck what everybody else thinks or what my mind thinks. I still love the big dope.

  Big presses a soft lingering kiss to my lips. “I’m gonna miss these,” he says and kisses me once more. I don’t melt into his arms like I want. I keep my legs parted just a bit so my burning core doesn’t catch fire from how turned on I am, and I remain stoic. I’ll take what I can for now, and we’ll deal with the rest of the heavy shit later.

  “I love you,” he speaks to my lips pulling away. I want to say it too, but it’s not the right time. Instead I dart another quick peck to his lips before dropping my hands and turning to head back to the sisters.

  I’m greeted with affection when joining the group of family as we wait together for the inevitable send-off. Gunz curls me to his side and offers me a sucker. He already has one in his mouth. I take the proffered gift of solace and tear off the wrapper. He takes the trash from my fingers and stuffs it into his jeans pocket. I plop the sweetness into my mouth. Instantly, for whatever reason, I’m calmed. Between Big’s scent and Gunz’s suckers, they both have a strange effect on me, by causing an ease to take over and rid my body of stress. It’s like the sugar from the strawberry sucker melts the emotions and washes them down the drain of my soul. A little too deep for ya? Yeah, maybe that was a bit over the top. But I’m pretty sure ya catch my drift.

  Big doesn’t look my way when he ties his blue bandana around his head and slides on a pair of shades. Inching his Hog forward, he rolls to the front of the brothers’ group and clicks a button on his motorcycle. The iron gate to the compound opens.

  With gruff enthusiasm, all the brothers grunt and holler. You can almost taste the potency of testosterone and oil as it clogs the air. Gunz puts his other hand to my belly, and I lean my head to the side of his chest. Ah…this is nice. I miss days like this. When I was a kid, we’d stand back here and watch them ride out in a line.

  An overwhelming sense of nostalgia makes me smile. Then I feel it in my stomach - the sensation that the roll out is nearing. It’s like a sense I’ve always had. I can almost taste it.

  It’s time.

  Big raises a hand in the air, and the motorcycles rev their engines to deafening levels. My heart skyrockets with excitement. I love this part. My teeth grind together on edge. I want to roar with them. I want to holler alongside the brothers. This is my family! My whole wonderful family is led by the man I’m going to spend the rest of my life with. I swallow hard at the thought, my throat constricting, as I fill with pride.

  Beside me I catch a glimpse out of the corner of my eye of the parents shielding their children’s ears. That will be me once Harley is born. I will be covering hers too. My smile widens. I’m going to be a biker mom, and my daughter is gonna be a MC brat just like me. It all seems so surreal. My hand joins Gunz’s on my stomach, and he kisses my temple once more just before the final send-off.

  Big lowers his hand from the air, and brothers howl their excitement, with their heads tipped toward the bright blue sky. Big, for the first time in my entire life, turns his head to look over his shoulder. He grins at me and blows me a kiss before he turns right back around and rides out the gate. Brother after brother follow in single file right
behind their Prez.

  As they leave the compound, each of them lower their hand to the side, offering peace to the family they are leaving behind and respect for the road ahead. We wait until the very last brother rolls out of the compound and the sounds of motorcycles are a faint memory echoing in the distance before anyone speaks.

  White Boy, the prospect, runs to re-secure the gate. I shuffle out of Gunz’s grandpa bubble and join in with the commotion with the sisters.

  “I can’t believe it’s always like that,” Jez states in amazement.

  “It’s not,” Pixie comments.

  “That only happens when it’s a planned, full brotherhood run. They don’t do those for the smaller ones,” Debbie explains with a soft smile.

  “I can’t wait to ride my own Harley,” Debbie’s oldest son blurts with eagerness.

  Deke shakes his head. “My girls better never get on any boy’s Harley,” he states and pats both of his daughters on the shoulder.

  They seem oblivious to it all. They’re too engrossed with chatting with Miss. H to pay attention to us dull adults. I lean down and tap Miss. H on the shoulder. She looks back at me with her normal level of attitude and sass.

  “Why don’t y’all go on ahead and play on the playground,” I push her little shoulders in the right direction. She grabs both Cherry’s and Ginger’s hands, and off they go to the playground. It’s not far so anyone can keep an eye on them without worrying they might get hurt.

  Jezebel hooks Gabe onto her other hip. Knowing by the way she moves her body, she’s tired of holding him. He is a fat baby. I reach out to take him from her, and she brushes me off. “No,” she shakes her head. “You’re too pregnant to be carrying his lard-butt around,” she jiggles the so-called lard-butt on her cocked hip.

  I don’t argue. She is his mama, and I’m too tired to fight with her. Those arguments could last for days.

  Deke offers to take Gabe instead, and Jez shakes her head.