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

by Bink Cummings

  This morning before we headed to the spa, I talked to Big on the phone for a few minutes and thanked him for the flowers. I almost asked him to call the dog off, so I didn’t have to share a room with Gunz. I’m the only sister in her own room with her own bodyguard. The rest of the sisters have taken up the two other rooms adjoining ours. Niki is with Dixie and Candy Cane. Beth and Pixie are with Jezebel. I’m the odd man out. Not that Gunz is a bad choice in roommate, aside from him loudly fucking Niki in our bathroom. That’s not the kind of entertainment I was seeking when I came on this weekend. If I wanted to listen to porn, I would turn on my computer.

  “I’m fine, Sarah,” I reply to my attendant. Opening my eyes, I dial back into the surrounding conversations as a nail tech lifts my feet from the water and proceeds to massage my calves with lavender scented lotion.

  Sideways glancing to my right, I watch Jezebel leaf through the spa treatment binder. Next to her Pixie’s getting her nails painted a garish red color.

  “Who’s getting waxed?” Jezebel asks all of us.

  “I already did last week,” Niki chirps up.

  “I don’t do wax anything,” Pixie declares.

  “I went with Niki last week and got a Brazilian,” Dixie adds.

  “I’m only trimmin’ the playground, no fuckin’ wax.” Gunz explains, sitting diagonally from me with his feet soaking in a footbath. I shake my head not wanting to know anything about what he does to maintain his playground. He could be a hairy beast down there for all I care.

  “That’s right, Handsome,” Niki purrs, directly across from me, biting her lip as she eyes Gunz suggestively. “I trimmed your playground last week.”

  Niki’s intense gaze flicks down to Gunz’s crotch. I close my eyes not wanting to see any more. I didn’t come to a spa weekend to see my friend undress her regular fuckbuddy with her eyes. I came to relax. End of story. Time to change the subject.

  Keeping my eyes screwed shut, and relishing in the calf massage with my arms wrapped around my robe clad belly, I nearly lose it when Jezebel unknowingly asks, “Hey Beth, you wax?”

  To keep from laughing, I purse my lips and gnash my teeth together. I don’t want to embarrass her. If Jez only knew that Beth had a seventies bush, then she wouldn’t have asked. I didn’t tell anyone about what’d I’d seen; that would have been disrespectful.

  In response, Beth makes an anxious noise in her throat.

  “It’s cool, if ya don’t,” Jezebel recovers. “I was just wonderin’.”

  “I…I’ve…never thought about it before,” Beth stammers uncomfortably.

  “Me neither,” Candy Cane affirms.

  I open my eyes and take a deep breath through my nose and out my mouth to calm myself. Leaning over the arm of my chair, closer to Beth, I whisper, “If you need someone to talk to about shaving, we can talk.” My eyes meet hers to try and convey what it is I am hinting to.

  Beth’s alabaster cheeks swiftly blush with recognition as she too leans over her arm to close the distance between us.

  “How did you know?” she murmurs awkwardly, raising a brow.

  “I saw when you were drunk the other night.”

  “When I went to the ladies room?”

  “Yes,” I nod my confirmation. Even though it wasn’t exactly a ladies room, it was Big’s office. But that’s neither here nor there.

  Beth wheezes with embarrassment and jerks back into her seat. Sitting ramrod straight, eyes forward, her hands clamp down on the arms of her chair turning her knuckles pale, as her cheeks flush a deep red and the color travels down her neck.

  “Beth, it’s not a big deal,” I quietly attempt to reassure her while our sisters carry on amongst themselves, oblivious to our sensitive subject. I really wish she wasn’t so self-conscious about all this. So what if she’s not like the rest of us. She’s a helluva lot more innocent that’s for damn sure, which isn’t a bad thing.

  Here’s case and point on her innocence versus ours…You listening?

  “Vajazzling, yeah I’ve heard of it. I wonder if Pinterest has DIY boards for that,” Jezebel comments to the sisters.

  Candy Cane barks an amused laugh, as Dixie confesses, “I’ve done that once. Brew thought it was pretty. He took each gem off with his….”

  Oh fuck no. I tune out the rest of that sentence. I know too much as it is about my brothers’ sex lives. Picturing him and his pregnant wife with gems on her puss—no thanks.

  I reach across to Beth’s chair and touch her forearm for moral support. She jerks on contact but doesn’t yank away.

  “Madam,” my nail tech calls to me from the floor.

  Keeping my hand on Beth, I look down at the woman who’s doing my pedicure as she lifts a hot pink nail color from her little rolling cart. “This is the color you want?” she jingles the glass bottle.

  “Yes, hot pink on my toes and nothing on my nails,” I clarify.

  “You don’t want color on your nails?” Niki asks, having heard my explanation.

  I shake my head and open my mouth to reply, only to be cut short when Pixie answers for me. “No, Bink doesn’t like polish on her fingers, says it chips too easy, and she cooks too much.”

  “Yeah,” I jerk a nod toward Pix. “What she said,” I tease, grinning and winking at Pixie for remembering one of my many idiosyncrasies. I only do finger nail polish on the rare occasion, and today isn’t gonna be one of those days.

  “Doesn’t Big like his woman to have her nails pretty?” Niki questions next.

  “Don’t know, don’t care,” I shrug and make a face that says I don’t give a fuck one way or the other. Because frankly, I don’t.

  “You don’t care if your man, the president of the club, likes his woman’s nails to be done?” Niki probes, apparently not satisfied with my first answer.

  Sternly shaking my head, I look Niki straight in the eyes. Gunz clears his throat knowing damn well that if she starts anything I will finish it. Right now her tone seems more curious then rude. Let’s just hope it stays that way, for her sake and mine.

  “Nope, I don’t care if Big likes my nails done. Just like I don’t care if he thinks I should reuse my bath towel. I won’t. Or if he thinks I should fold my socks instead of balling them in pairs.” I swallow hard, feeling my throat constrict with agitation for having to explain myself. “That’s my business what I do, not his. And if he wants pretty manicured nails, then I suggest he paints his own or find himself a new woman.” I’m firm, unwavering. That all she’s going to get from me. I won’t repeat myself.

  “Hmm,” Niki contemplates. “I was just wondering because every time Big—,” she doesn’t get to finish that sentence before Gunz shoots over the edge of his chair and covers her mouth with his hand.

  “Don’t,” he warns harshly. Her eyes get large, flicking from him and back to me. Her face falls, and all the color drains from her cheeks.

  The room goes eerily quiet, and my heart can’t help but thump erratically in my chest. It’s so strong I can hear the blood rushing through my ears. I can’t believe Gunz is openly putting her in her place like this. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Gunz reprimand another female for me, aside from Lindy Sue.

  “You gonna shut it?” Gunz prompts with a sharp edge to his tone.

  Niki, hand secured over her mouth, nods glumly. Dropping his hand, Gunz gives her a stern look of disappointment and sits back in his chair. Someone is going to get punished tonight.

  I don’t even have to be told what Niki was going to say. I’m pretty sure I already know on my own. Big probably complimented her on her pretty nails whenever he fucked her. Even though she should have never said a goddamn thing to me about it, I don’t think it was said maliciously. Her crestfallen expression tells me all I need to know. Guilt is eating her.

  All eyes fall on Niki and then to me, awaiting my reaction. Beth’s warm hand lays over mine; I’d forgotten was touching her. With my other hand, I rub my belly to calm my jacked up nerves. Even though it wasn’t said to hu
rt me, I’m still a little on edge. When a woman talks about your man and you already know they’ve fucked, it’s kind of hard not to feel something. In this case, it’s a dose of mild anger mixed with a bit of shock, which is quite the concoction.

  “Bink, I….,” Niki is the first to speak. “I’m,” she audibly swallows and her bottom lip quivers. Shit, she’s going to cry. There is no reason for her to do that.

  “It’s not a big deal, Nik,” I try to reassure her, to keep her from breaking down, which would probably make me cry too. God knows I don’t need to cry anymore. I’ve had just about enough of that in the past few months.

  “I—I,” she stammers, heavily dropping her head to look at her lap. Shielding her face, she rubs her eyes. “Gunz,” she mutters with need.

  “You want your punishment now?” he sounds unbearably tender when he speaks. It’s like he was expecting this reaction from her. Niki nods solemnly, still rubbing her eyes as Gunz instructs both of their nail techs to dry off their feet.

  Moments later Gunz is escorting a guilt stricken Niki from the room, with his hand dominantly curled around the nape of her neck.

  “Don’t leave this room till I get back, Baby Doll,” he orders over his shoulder on his way out, not even awaiting my reply.

  Yeah, like I am going to listen to that. If I want to get up, I will.

  I take a deep breath to calm my nerves, and Beth pats my hand, drawing my attention.

  “Whoa,” Jezebel remarks once Gunz is out of earshot.

  “She’s gonna be sore tomorrow for Easter,” Pixie adds.

  Ever since Dixie and Brew were hitched and I moved back to the compound, Niki has spent a lot more time around the Sacred Sisters. It has a lot to do with Dixie since they’re close. With her being around so much, you learn new things, which includes shit about her and Gunz’s relationship.

  According to Niki, shortly after I’d moved to Chicago, they started a semi-exclusive relationship. Meaning she can only fuck whoever he approves of, when he gives permission, but he can screw whatever bitch he wants, whenever he wants, without consequence. To me, it sounds like a bunch of double standard bullshit, but it works for them apparently. Among this twisted relationship of theirs, they dabble in BDSM, more so on the B&D and less on the S&M. Or that’s how she explained it to me and the rest of the sisters one family dinner night at the clubhouse. Let me tell ya, it was quite the titillating conversation over meatball subs and chocolate chip cookies.

  “Niki slept with Big,” Beth asks, unmistakably astounded.

  “Yes, multiple times,” I keep my voice even.

  “And that doesn’t bother you?”

  Beth is new to this lifestyle, so it only makes sense that she’d be taken aback. It affects a lot of people that way. Do you think you could be friends with someone your boyfriend or husband fucked numerous times? How about if that chick also fucked other men you are close with? For some, it would be hard to swallow. For me, it’s not. Sex is just sex unless there’s intimacy and emotion behind it. It’s apparent that Beth views it like many women do - sex equals romantic feelings. I’m not saying it doesn’t sometimes, but in Big’s case, I know he’s never felt love while fucking a club whore. He isn’t wired that way. I’m not either. It’s neither wrong nor right the way we were raised, it just is.

  “Not really,” I shrug. “It’s not like we talk about it or compare notes.”

  If we did, I’d be livid. However, knowing a woman or twenty that Big’s fucked around with kind of comes with the territory. I may not like it, but at the same time it’s not that big of a deal to me. He is the club’s president, and women do throw themselves at him. I can’t blame him for taking a piece of the action whenever he saw fit. As long as he keeps his dick to himself now, that’s all I give a shit about. The past is the past. If Beth only knew how many times Dixie and Niki both have fucked Runner, it might make her see them, him, and the MC in a whole new light. Not that I want that. I like Beth a lot, and I’d like to keep her around.

  Speaking of Runner….

  “So Beth, what’s up with you and Runner?” I probe, changing the subject. Figured now is as good a time as ever to find out what I’m dying to know.

  She blushes, turning her head away, “Nothing.”

  “Uh huh,” I’m not buying it. I know there is something going on between the two of them, but they’ve been playing so aloof about it.

  “We’re just talking,” she explains nonchalantly.

  “What kind of talking?” I press.

  “As friends.”

  “Have you two?” I would normally call her out and blatantly ask if they’ve fucked. Not with Beth though because she’s too shy.

  “Have we what?”

  She’s clueless. Guess I’m going to have to just come out and say it.

  “Had sex,” I clarify softly.

  Both of her eyebrows reach her hairline and her eyes widen, “No!” she blurts, affronted, “Why—why would I do that? I barely know him.”

  “He is a man, Beth.”

  “So….,” she tucks a strand of her brown hair behind her ear.

  “They have needs.” Please say she is picking up what I’m puttin’ down. I know I don’t do sugar coating very well.

  “Do you think he wants to?”

  This should really be laughable by how clueless she is, but it’s not. It’s cute. This woman is older than I am, and this pretty much confirms my suspicion that she’s either a virgin or very inexperienced. One way or the other, she’s adorably naive.

  I smile sweetly at her, “He’s a man, Beth and you’re beautiful. So yes I’m sure he more than wants to.”

  “Bink’s right, honey,” Jezebel confirms.

  Didn’t even know she was paying a lick of attention to us. Guess I was mistaken.

  Beth, overflowing with anxiety rubs her face, neck and face again, and brings her closed hand to her mouth and starts to nervously nibble on her pinkie nail. No wonder Runner likes her; she’s so loveable. Too bad he’s a complete underserving douchebag. If Deke didn’t have so much baggage, he and Beth would be the perfect couple. But for whatever stupid reason, she’s taken a liking to Runner.

  All of the sisters remain silent to give Beth the time she needs to process all of what I’ve said and calm down.

  “I—I—don’t know. He’s never said anything,” she mutters, speaking more to herself than to us.

  “Have you kissed?” Pixie questions gently.

  Beth shakes her head innocently, “Not on the lips. He’s kissed my cheek and hand a couple times.”

  He kissed her hand? Holy shit!

  “What else?” I press, not that I really need to know. I’m just being nosy.

  “We’ve held hands, and we text every day, but that’s it.”

  How is that possible? Are we seriously talking about the same man?

  “What do you think of Runner?” I enquire as evenly as possible, still unable to swallow the fact that he kisses her fucking hand and cheek and texts her every day, yet he’s not fucked her.

  “I like him. He makes me feel….” she tapers off, looking deep in thought.

  “Special?” Jezebel questions.

  “Beautiful?” Candy Cane adds.

  “Loved?” Dixie blurts.

  “Safe?” Pixie throws in.

  “Whole?” I finish.

  Eyes averted, and folding her hands into her robe clad lap, Beth demurely nods along with each nosy inquiry. “He respects me and is very nice to me and my grandpa,” she wrings her hands in her lap, fumbling with them.

  “Does Jonesy like him?” I ask as my nail tech pops the plug on my foot tub and the water begins to swirl down the drain. Resting my feet on the padded edge, I flex my toes, admiring the fresh hot pink polish and white hibiscus flowers on my big toes. They’re pretty.

  “He’d better. Runner lets him win at chess,” Beth answers as her nail tech empties her foot tub as well.

  What?!

  “He plays chess with Jon
esy?” Candy Cane takes the words right of my stunned mouth.

  “Yes, every Tuesday night he does, and we order pizza for dinner. Unless he’s gone, like he is this week.” Beth states, still looking at her hands in her lap.

  “I can’t believe we’re all talking about the same Runner,” I blurt.

  “The same could be said about you and Big too, Bink,” Candy Cane states, finishing up her pedicure. “Men change for the one who completes ‘em.”

  She’s got a point.

  “She’s right. Think about Brew and screwing everything with a pussy,” Dixie explains. “I don’t see him straying now.”

  That’s true, I suppose. My brother the male whore. Aren’t most of the brothers’ reformed male whores? Except maybe Deke and Gypsy. The rest either fuck whores like they’ll die tomorrow, or they have old ladies, which they still fuck like they’ll die tomorrow.

  The conversations drift off, and we relax, until all the sisters finish with their pedicures and manicures. Sarah brings me a glass of cucumber water. I’m nearly finished with it when Gunz returns without Niki and explains that she will not be joining us until tonight, because she’s taken a cab back to the hotel to rest.

  Pixie and I make eye contact, passing our feelings without words. She was right. Niki is going to be hurting tomorrow. I’d hate to know what kind of punishment Gunz inflicted.

  “I hope she’s alright,” Beth speaks to Gunz, back to her normal self.

  “She’ll be fine. She didn’t get anything that she couldn’t handle,” he explains while striding across the room to my chair. He offers me his hand, and I take it into mine. Then he helps me from the massage chair. Standing safely on the cool tile, Gunz releases my hand before he retrieves my slippers and kneels to place them back on my feet. I rest my hands on his shoulders for support, so I don’t fall over.