I frown. Does she mean Cassie was a bitch to her? Not that I should be surprised, but what on earth could Cassie have over Abby?
It doesn’t matter much because we’re approaching the newlyweds. Todd is looking at me with a smugness that he really shouldn’t be feeling at the moment. Congrats bro, you got the cheating cousin.
“You guys know each other or is it another case of little Abigail getting love struck by the first boy who smiles at her?” Cassie welcomes us with a smile that seems anything but sincere. “You don’t have to humor her, you know. She’s used to being rejected.”
OK. There is definitely a history between them because that was a bitchy thing to say.
“Crazy coincidence, we met yesterday. Her car broke down near Edmond. I… took care of her,” I explain slowly, winking at Abby in what I know looks like an intimate way. “And for the record, if one of us got love struck at the first smile, it was me.”
I sense Abby’s surprise next to me, and I squeeze her hand reassuringly. I owe it to her at least.
“Oh. Well. Doesn’t that make a lovely story?” Cassie exclaims, looking up at Todd for confirmation. “It’s also good that you met her before today. I’m not sure you would have had the same first impression seeing her about to burst out of her dress. I’m so thankful you accepted taking Beverly’s place on such short notice, Abby. I’m so sorry I didn’t know you had gained weight again or I would have made sure that your dress was adjusted to fit your size.”
There is a small pause, and I honestly think I’m at the clubhouse for a few seconds. I’m used to hearing that kind of thing from the club girls, not from a bride on her wedding day.
Abby takes it like a pro though.
She laughs a little, then waves Cassie off. “Don’t worry. You were probably in over your head with last minute preparations. It’s not your fault my boobs never needed implants and have a hard time fitting in the dress.”
The charming bride look vanishes as my girl shows her teeth.
Wait. No. Not my girl. I do feel proud of her, though. I like a girl who fights back.
She’s not done, either. I guess she has a lot of pent-up anger, and she’s letting it all out. “By the way, I never told you, but the boob job was a good idea. Your dress is stunning, but it would have never fit you with your A-cups. Not that there is anything wrong with small boobs. I would love to have smaller ones-”
“Don’t put that out in the universe,” I add, playing along with a loving gaze toward her cleavage. I’m not faking it, by the way. The soft globes are making my mouth water because I know exactly how they feel in my hands.
“Right,” Abby says with a nod before continuing in a saccharine tone. “As I was saying, I would love to have smaller ones because these do attract everyone’s attention… right, Todd?”
I frown, Todd’s flaming face confirming that he was indeed caught red-handed.
I don’t know what pisses me off more. That he is eyeing my girl again. That I keep referring to Abby as my girl even though we met 24 hours ago. Or that a groom would ogle another woman that way on his wedding day.
“I think you probably had too much to drink,” Cassie says with a stiff smile. “And you never knew how to behave in society properly, so it’s definitely not a good combo. Be a doll and go sit down somewhere before you embarrass yourself, Piglet.”
“I’m not drunk. I’m sober as a…” Abby glances at me with a question in her eyes, which I do not understand. I’m also too riled up at what Cassie called my girl to think about it. Abby gives me a frustrated head shake when I shrug helplessly then continues, “As a very sober person. I’m just not in the mood to be on the receiving end of your cattiness anymore. If I hear you say another thing about me, I’ll take my bridesmaid duty seriously and give a hell of a speech that nobody will forget, and believe me, I definitely won’t be the one in an embarrassing situation. Although, I might get drunk and eventually do it anyway, now that I think of it. I’ll start with how your amazing love story was born out of cheating, isn’t it romantic? Cheating on a soldier-”
“Marine, babe,” I interrupt her. I shouldn’t like the way she talks about my own past with Cassie but if there is one thing I value, it’s loyalty, and Abby is showing it in spades at the moment. Also, she is fucking cute getting all worked up.
“Marine,” she repeats dutifully, “Marine who was deployed. You disgust me.”
She turns around, and I’m about to follow her, but it seems like she has a change of heart because she turns around so swiftly she almost smacks into me, then pushes me aside to face the newlyweds once again. My sweet baker has a hell of a temper, apparently.
“Just for the record. He’s not hung up on you. I just told him how much of a douchebag the groom was, and he told me that the two of you would just make quite the pair. And, Todd, my eyes are up here,” she snaps one last time.
“You, bitch.”
“Takes one to know one, right, Cass?”
The situation is about to get out of hand, but we’re saved by other guests asking for attention. By the time I have her on the other side of the room, Abby is downright giddy.
“Oh my God. I never snapped back. This feels awesome. This feels fucking awesome,” she squeals as she grabs a glass of champagne from a waiter and gulps half of it down. “I’m sorry I dragged you into that, but I figured I might as well speak for you while I was at it. And I forgive you about the crab cakes, by the way.”
Crab cakes? What the hell have I done with the crab cakes? But that makes me think she mentioned she was hungry, and it’s clearly not a good idea for her to down her champagne that way on an empty stomach. I move to the small buffet and pick a selection for her, handing her the plate wordlessly.
“Aaron,” Louisa’s pleased voice reaches me before I can even see her.
Abby’s eyebrows lift as she chews on a tiny quiche. She swallows then mouths, “Aaron?”
My step-mother saves me from replying. I hug her when she steps near me.
“I tried to catch you before the ceremony, but I was busy with the wedding planner and Cassie’s mom. I’m so glad you came.”
I smile, a little stiffly. “Louisa, this is Abby.”
“Oh, yes, dear, we already met. Thank you so much for saving us once again, and what a chance that your baking conference was canceled at the last minute!”
This time, it’s my time to mouth. “Baking conference?”
Abby throws me one of those little glares I’m starting to really dig. The ones that say, “you are going to be in trouble once I get you alone.”
I reply with one of mine.
We both know the kind of trouble I promise is not the same, though.
I have to play the big bad biker persona to convince the wedding planner to change the seating arrangements. It works. I’m now sitting next to Abby, far away from the bride and the groom. It’s a table of eight, and the three couples around us are Todd’s coworkers. We don’t pay attention to them past the first introductions, and they do the same.
“I can’t believe your name is Aaron,” she says once the first course is served.
“You knew Apa was just my road name.”
“Yeah but Aaron is so… classic and pretty.”
“And now you understand why I needed a road name.”
She giggles a little at that. I fed her, but she still got a little tipsy. I don’t think she holds her liquor well. “Does Cassie know?”
“My road name?”
“Yeah?”
“Maybe? I only joined the Sinners after her, but it’s not like it’s a secret either.”
Abby bites her lip and glances around the table. It’s not necessary, it’s like we’re not there for the others. “I meant does she know you have a…” She discreetly points to my crotch, and it’s a struggle not to smile.
“I got it while I was prospecting. One of the brothers has a tattoo and piercing shop, and he wanted to take pictures of his craft.”
She gape
s. “There is a picture of your dick somewhere?”
She’s a little loud. Everyone around us pauses, and I shake my head. “Bachelor party gone wrong,” I say as explanation. It seems enough because they laugh and go back to their conversation. I tilt my head in warning, and Abby looks sheepish.
“Sorry,” she mumbles. “Did they force you to?”
I wince. She doesn’t know anything about the club. No one is really forced to do anything. I could have walked away. But it was a way to show that I can take one for the team, and that I’m not afraid of pain. “No. But I knew it was a good way to prove a point to the brothers. I’m not a wimp and will step up for one of them if needed, no matter how dumb it makes me look. Also… I had been told genital piercings really have a few advantages.”
“They do,” she says with a little nod. “Can I see it?”
“Babe, you saw it, touched it, licked it, and more not even twenty-four hours ago,” I murmur.
I love the smile that stretches her lips. “I meant the picture.”
“If you ever want a tattoo or a piercing, give me a call. I’ll take you to the parlor. You can play spot-the-dick then.”
“I don’t have your phone number.”
I glance at her as I fish my cell phone out of my pocket, unlock it and wordlessly hand it to her. It’s not one of the burners I use for club business, so it’s rather safe. She types and then hands it back to me. I assume she sent herself a text. I don’t even know why I don’t mind her having my personal phone number. I usually avoid that. But Abby is fun. She’s also not the clingy kind, that much is extremely obvious with the way she shrugged off my little scheming. If she ever comes back around Edmond, I wouldn’t mind her giving me a call.
What I told her about me not having my fill of her last night was true. It’s just a tiny bit unsettling that I still felt that way when I left her sleeping in bed. I almost woke her up for one last time, but I knew she was tired and needed to rest. I would also be lying if I said I didn’t hope I could explain things at the wedding and, hopefully, we would get one more night together. It was weird to go back to the clubhouse this morning. The aftereffects of the party were visible everywhere. Empty bottles and cups, people asleep on sofas, chairs or even on the floor. Bedroom doors open, showing the leftovers of some nice threesomes - or more. My night had been much more vanilla but somehow, I didn’t regret it. The lingering satisfaction clinging to my body made me walk straight to my room, not even paying attention when Pinkie, my go-to club girl, called me from the kitchen. Normally, I would have gone to her to get my dick sucked off. Great way to start the day. I didn’t. To be fair, it might have a lot to do with the fact that the night had seen me shoot my load four times, which hasn’t happened in a while.
I guess I’m getting old.
I find out more during dinner about the little feud Abby seems to have with Cassie. I’m a little amused because from an outsider’s point of view, it’s pretty obvious that Cassie is jealous of Abby. She also has every reason to be. I might not know any of them that well, but it’s clear that Abby has a charming and outgoing personality. People must be naturally attracted to her.
Cassie has that very polished, cold beauty that makes her the perfect trophy wife. Abby is curvy, and that dress she’s wearing is showing off every single one of her assets. It’s hard for me not to drool over her tits, especially when I know how fucking perfect they feel in my hands. Her hips are round, perfect to hold onto when you pound into her. Her thighs are soft, thick and made to be around a man’s hips.
I’m getting slightly worked up as I remember the way she looked when she rode me, and I shift in my chair.
The little vixen next to me probably senses it because her small hand reaches for my thigh. We’re hidden by the tablecloth, and she rubs slowly, inching her way toward my crotch while pretending to read the small menu at the center of the table.
Two can play that game. It’s a little hard for me to do the same to her because I’m much taller than she is, and it would be much more obvious if my hand was on her leg but if she wants to play, I’ll never deny her.
I grab her hand and push it north.
I almost groan. I love her hand on my dick, even if there are a few layers between us. It’s something I found out last night on my bike. I honestly can’t remember the last time a chick made me hard just by squeezing herself against my back. If I hadn’t heard my brothers heading to the clubhouse, I think I would have unzipped myself right there in the middle of the road. Pretty sure the hand job would have been amazing.
I want to fuck her again. I want her legs spread for me, her pussy weeping for my dick.
By the time the waiters are cleaning the table, I’m fully hard and ready to go. I stand up almost abruptly, excuse myself and leave, already fishing my phone out of my pocket. She did text herself, and I send her another one telling her I’m waiting for her by the main entrance.
I’m not even there yet before I hear the sound of her heels on the marble floor. I slow down and wait for her to catch up with me.
“My room is on the third floor,” she breathes out as we head straight to the elevators. I nod as I push the button.
“I hope you had the time to recover from last night,” I say in a low voice as my eyes take their fill of her cleavage. I am so getting a titty fuck tonight.
“Strip,” I order as soon as we’re in her room. I’m already getting rid of the penguin suit I was forced to wear. She turns around, giving me her back to unzip her, and I can’t resist. I press a kiss on her shoulder, then bite softly as I lower the zipper. I see the goosebumps on her skin, and I mentally promise myself that I’m going to give her everything she wants and more.
The fabric of the dress has dug into her skin, leaving some pink and red welts, and I also promise myself I’m going to give her a few more by the end of the night. I spot a few bruises as I help her out of the outfit, left by my fingers when I gripped her tight. She’ll have a few more of those, too.
It’s not like she doesn’t give back. I have a few angry bruises on my collarbones, and her nails made a nice pattern on my biceps and back.
Once she is just in her panties, I get rid of the rest of my clothes. She looks fucking gorgeous with her hair done, naked except for her panties. I make it my personal mission to have her exactly the same way I left her this morning: her hair a mess, lips bruised and swollen, a blissful look on her face.
There is no hesitation this time. We already know each other well, at least physically. I kiss her, hard, my hands on her ass like they’ve been dying to be all day long. She rubs herself all over me, bending her knee, and I take advantage of that to slip a leg between hers. I already feel her arousal on my thigh and it makes my blood run faster when I see how quickly I turn her on. My plan of a titty fuck vanishes from my mind - at least for now. I need to be inside her too much.
I don’t know what it is with her that makes me feel like that - that desperate need to have more of her is unusual to me. It’s not unwelcomed, but I might have been fucking the same kind of girls for far too long. I probably needed a little bit of variety.
I lift her by the back of her thighs, and she seems a little bit surprised but recovers quickly, her legs going around my hips right away. Her breath hitches a little because her pussy is now plastered against my stomach. I should have taken the time to get rid of her panties, but I like the brush of lace against my skin. It’s not like she’ll be wearing them much longer anyway. I walk her to the bed and let her fall down softly, my body covering hers instantly. She moans into my mouth when I settle between her thighs, her hips already rocking against me to rub her little clit against my dick.
Fuck. I’m already so hard it hurts. She lets out a small mewling sound when I tear my lips from hers, but I want to taste her skin, I want to lick every inch of her perfect body. I trail down to the valley between her breasts and secretly rejoice when my tongue pays its respects to her nipple. I missed that tight little bud in my mouth, and j
udging by the dark color, the feeling is mutual.
“I probably told you a hundred times already,” I murmur with my mouth full of her delicious flesh, “but I fucking love your tits.”
She doesn’t reply, but her hand in my hair is soft and I decide I like it that way too. Once I’ve paid my respects to her breasts, I make my way down her stomach. I play with her a little, my tongue tracing the waist of her panties until she is writhing under me. I know exactly what she wants, and I oblige, lowering her underwear. I could rip them off, but I rather like them, small bits of red lace that really showcase her ass. It would be a shame to ruin them, so I don’t. They’re barely off before she is already spreading her legs like the good girl she is, trusting that I’m going to take care of her needs.
I do. I settle on the floor and pull her until her pussy is right in my face. She is soaking wet already, and I moan when I taste her. I lick a long stroke from her entrance to her clit, holding her open with my fingers. She is already panting, her thighs quivering around my face. The sounds that come out of her are unreal. She is not exactly a screamer. She moans, she whines, she pants, she cries as if what I’m doing to her is sending her straight to heaven. What does me in every damn time is the way her breath catches in her throat once I do something really right.
I push two fingers in her soaked pussy. With the way I went at her last night, she doesn’t need me to prepare her more than that. I gently pull her clit between my lips, sucking on it as I pump inside her
“Oh God,” she lets out, now grabbing my hair with both hands, shoving my face between her legs. I know that sign. She is already close. I groan against her flesh, because fuck, I love that I can get her there so fast. I flick my tongue against her clit, then flatten it and give her its whole length until I feel the first tremors deep inside her. She comes hard, her long moan the testimony of a good orgasm if I ever knew one. I help her down back to earth by suckling on the inside of her thigh. I leave a few more hickeys there, trademarking the place.
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