Bitter Sweet Deception (The Kingsmen M.C Book 4)

by Oakes, Tara

  Lil’s steps up behind me and hugs her arm around my shoulders as I stare blankly at my purchases. “You’ll do it the same way we all do. Cross your fingers, say a prayer, and just do it,” she chuckles. “Besides…you’ve got more help than you can even imagine.”

  Her words have a soothing effect on me, but I’m still scared shitless. So far, I’ve gotten word from Clink that he’s made the pickup and they’ve stopped for lunch while heading back. Other than that, I have very few details to go on. We navigate through the store to the pharmacy section and I throw everything I can find into the cart. Does he need every cold or cough medicine made? No. But we’re gonna buy them, anyway.

  A little boy comes running through the aisle, barreling toward us. “Jack! You stop right now, this instant!” his mother screams behind him.

  The little boy shrieks in excitement and turns the corner, hiding from the woman. I strategically point to his hiding place, informing the lady of his whereabouts, selling him out. She looks tired, worn, but thanks me by mouthing the words quietly while sneaking up on her son.

  “Ah!!! I’ve got you!” She swoops up and tickles the laughing child. She may be exhausted and physically drained, but the second she holds her son, her eyes light up. “Come on, Jack, let’s go find daddy.”

  My heart warms from the interaction, and Lil’s and I share a look, both moved by the sight.

  “That’s it!” I tell Lil’s. “How about Jack?”

  My eyes dart down to her protruding belly. Jack. I think that’s a great name.

  She smirks her lips in thought, “It’s cute. But…no.”

  I clench my eyes and push the cart forward. “I give up, Lil’s,”I call back to my friend.

  ******

  We’ve set up Brendan’s room with new sheets and bedding, washed, dried and folded all of the new clothes. Clink left Cage behind to look over things while he was gone, so I made good use of the prospect and sent him to the market with a short grocery list to get us started. Snacks, juice, and kid-friendly items in case Clink’s son is a picky eater.

  When Cage returned with the sacks of groceries, we had him help set up the Nintendo game system we picked up. Clink has his own system, but I don’t think any of his games are age appropriate a kid, so he’ll have to get used to having Mario and Skylanders playing instead of his war games and racing games.

  Lil’s stayed as long as she could before having to head back to the hospital. I called for an update on her dad and they were hoping to releasee him later tonight. She was going to meet Jay to bring him home. Hopefully the fool will be able to stay sober enough this time to remember to take his meds. Otherwise, I’m sure he’ll be right back in the ER for my next shift.

  Cage plants himself at the kitchen table reading the paper, munching on the takeout he picked up on his way home from the market, careful to stay out of my way as I’m buzzing around checking and double checking things, waiting….

  I’ve folded and re-folded all of his drawers, not even sure if these clothes will fit him. I bought a few different sizes just in case, but you never know…if he’s anything like his daddy, he’ll be on the bigger end of the spectrum.

  I wiped down all of the new toys with sani-wipes, even though they’ve never been used. Vacuumed his carpet three times, cleaned his bathroom twice. Wait!

  “Fuck!” I call out.

  It’s less than ten seconds before Cage comes storming in the room, hand on his gun in its hiding place under his belt.

  “What? Charlie, what’s wrong?” he’s anxious to save the day.

  I silently reprimand myself for getting his hopes up. I know he’s anxious and eager to please Clink.

  My face flushes from embarrassment at making such a big deal over nothing.

  “Sorry,” I roll my eyes. “I just…,” I shake my head, not wanting to admit how stupid this must sound. “…I forgot to get a little step stool. He’s not gonna be able to reach the sink.”

  Cage deflates, hand removing from its place on his gun. He follows my eyes to the empty place in front of the sink. Neither one of us speaks, until he snaps his fingers and perks up.

  “Wait!” he disappears. Returning shortly after, his hands are full with a paper phone book, and he drops it with a loud slapping sound onto the tiles. “There!”

  I nod my head, impressed with his improvisation.

  He smiles at my approval, “My ma used one for me when I was a kid. Just don’t let it get wet.”

  I take note of the warning and thank him by patting him on the shoulder. Perfect. Now I just have to wait.

  ******

  Clink’s last text gave me the heads up that they’re just entering Chisolm. I make one last mad dash through the house to check that everything is in place and ready. I take a deep breath and run a brush through my hair. I’ve been too busy to fix myself up today, so tinted moisturizer and some lipgloss will have to do.

  I hear the engine pull up, the lights flashing through the windows. It’s late, I’m sure they’re both dead-tired. Wait! What if they’re hungry? Maybe I should have made something for him? My pulse starts to race as I become panicked.

  I can hear the car doors shutting. I’m stone-still. I can’t move.

  The front door opens and Clink comes in carrying a little bundled boy in his arms. His eyes are bloodshot, road-weary. He makes that universal “shh” sign with his finger and lips, before pointing to the boy.

  Warmth creeps up inside, excitement even. I fight against myself not to squeal or bounce in place to get a better view of him. His hair is dark, just like Clink’s. His head is lopped on his dad’s shoulder, chubby cheeks red, the tiniest amount of drool threatening to roll down his pop’s leather cut. He’s out cold.

  I move from his path to follow behind as he carries the little sleeping boy to his bed. I have a different view from here, a different angle. His hair is full, shaggy, in need of a cut, I think. His tiny little fingers clutch onto Clink, around his neck and shoulder, holding on. The little nails are perfect, well.. maybe a bit dirty. I can hear the breaths inhale and exhale as he breathes. Wait…what’s that rattling? Is he congested? Is he sick?

  Clink sets him down on his newly made bed, the boy falling over to the side. I step in, to help take off his puffy red jacket and little sneakers. He’s a sound sleeper, not waking or even acknowledging our actions. The tiny rattling I heard before now turns into snoring, as he unconsciously moves his body to get more comfortable. I unfold a nearby blanket and drape it over him, not wanting to risk further movement by putting him between the sheets.

  Clink has stepped back, watching as I fuss over the little boy. When there’s nothing left to fuss with, I fall back, resting against his dad. Clink wraps his arms around me and rests his chin above my head as we stare at the small race car shaped bed.

  His little chest rises and falls methodically, while his tiny eyelashes flutter from dreaming.

  “Let’s let him sleep, Sugar,” Clink whispers in my ear.

  I don’t want to leave him, but I know it’s the right thing to do. Clink grabs my hands and helps give incentive to move. Once out the door, I close it partially and tiptoe out into the main living room where Cage has just set down the last of the bags from the truck.

  “That’s everything, I think,” he tells us.

  Clink reaches out and pats the prospect hard, manly, on his arm, “Thanks, kid. It’s late, you can get goin’. I’ll catch you at the clubhouse tomorrow.”

  He smiles and nods to both of us, “Anytime, guys.”

  Clink locks the front door behind him, and kicks himself out of his boots, sighing loudly. He turns to look at the small pile of bags in the middle of the room and exhales deeply.

  “I don’t have the energy to deal with this tonight, Sugar. I need to take a shower and then get some sleep,” he apologizes for abandoning the mess.

  I wave it off, “Don’t even give it a second thought. I’ll take care of it. You just go get clean.”

  I begin to be
nd down to open the nearest bag. He moves close behind, pushing his denim covered dick into my ass cheeks, grabbing my hips and pulling them in closer.

  “Who says I’m gonna shower alone?” his voice is low but audible.

  I swallow hard, but my throat is nearly closed. Just a handful of words from him manages to make my body go haywire. His hips swirl behind me, lighting the fire. He reaches for my hand, interlacing our fingers and pulls gently.

  I hold back, my eyes darting behind him to the partially closed little boy’s bedroom door,

  “Baby, what if he wakes up? What if he needs something?”

  Clink laughs under his breath, “He’s an even heavier sleeper than I am, babe. He’ll be fine until morning, if I had to guess.”

  ******

  The bathroom is filled with fog as I enter. Clink’s got the water running and waiting for me to I join him. I pull the glass shower door open as he’s facing the tile wall, rinsing the suds from his hair.

  His muscles flex as his body works to rinse itself, contracting and tensing. His large back tattoo moves with him, the oversized letters of the Kingsmen logo sprawled out, shoulder to shoulder. Almost undressed, I drop my panties and step out of them, into the shower stall.

  He hears me enter and tilts his head to the side, “He still sleeping?”

  I roll my eyes, “Yes. You were right.”

  I couldn’t help but make one last trip back to check on Brendan, even though Clink knew he would be in the exact same state as we left him.

  He laughs, “Say that again?”

  I snort defiantly, “Don’t push your luck, big boy.” I slip into the water stream and feel my body drench itself under it.

  “How‘bout I push something else?” he turns to face me, water cascading down the front of our bodies.

  I reach up on my tiptoes to taste his lips. “You could. Or…you could lean back and let me do the pushing.”

  I press on his shoulder, urging him to sway back until he’s resting on the wall behind him. Our eyes lock, and he lazily drawls, “I missed you, Sugar.”

  I drop to my knees, setting myself up to take him, “I’ll bet you did.”

  His dick slides effortlessly into my scorching mouth. Every inch fills between my cheeks, reminding me of what I’ve been without. He’s told me how much he’smissed me, but I think I’ll show him rather than use words.

  His light moaning echoes in between the walls of the tiled chamber and my ears. His hips move to aid the act, hands eagerly pulling me into him.

  “Good God, Sugar…I love fucking your mouth.”

  His dick is throbbing in my hands, dancing around my tongue. His legs tense, thighs tightening under my hands. The water rushing around us isn’t easy to hear past, but his breathing comes through. His panting breaths come hard and fast, his body preparing its release.

  I know it’s the wear the road has taken on his body, his fatigue, leaving his body in a state of languor, as I know my man can always last longer than this. But the warning signs are showing themselves, that he’s close.

  “Sugar, I-,” his facial expressions give away his struggle, I know he’s trying to last.

  I suck deep, letting him pop as I release him to speak, “Let it go, baby. Give it to me.”

  I take his length back inside and he does just as I’ve asked him to.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Mmm hmmm mhmmm. Wait. What the fuck? Am I humming?

  The bubbling from the nearby coffee maker is increasing in speed, letting off a tiny stream of steam from under the lid. I flip the power switch to leave the warming plate on and reach for two of the largest mugs in the cupboard. As I move to close the cabinet, the smallest of movements catches my eye.

  A tiny little foot peeking out from behind the pantry corner snatches itself back into hiding. Ah…I have a visitor.

  “These chocolate chip pancakes sure look delicious,” I speak out loud to my secret admirer.

  I flip two of the flapjacks onto a plate and place it onto the wooden table. Let’s see…how can I make this irresistible for him? I think I have an idea. Taking the can of whipped cream from the fridge, I shake it hard, walking back to his plate.

  “Let’s see…I think they need some eyes, and a nose, and a smile” I move the can to draw the specified shapes on the short stack of pancakes. A small amount of cream drips onto my finger as I finish my edible artwork. My pointer finger finds its way to my mouth, and I clean the richness from my skin with a swipe.

  Holding my warm coffee mug close, I take my seat at the table, across from the boy’s breakfast. I see his toes sneak out once more from behind the wall. This time, his shoulder peeks out, and then…a widened, yet hesitant, eye watches me. His eyes dart back and forth from me, to the hot breakfast set out for him. I see him lick his miniature lips hungrily.

  I move my gaze to set on him, and smile. He promptly retreats back behind the protection of the wall. I laugh to myself and sip on my coffee.

  “Those pancakes look so good. I’d hate for them to go to waste…maybe I’ll just have to eat them myself if no one else will.” I lay more bait for him.

  A quick pitter-pattering of steps hurries themselves across the room and Brendan hops up into the chair, preparing to devour his morning meal. He picks up his fork and dives into the melting ribbon of whipped cream.

  “Would it be alright if I cut that up for you?” I ask him.

  He nods his head up and down vigorously, eager to dig into his food. I smile at his reply and move my seat closer to him. I take the butter knife from my own place setting and meticulously operate on the pancakes, creating smaller pieces.

  The little boy becomes restless, moving about back and forth, impatiently planning his assault on the food. I hand the fork back to him when the preparation is complete, and he wastes no time in accepting it to select the most appealing piece to start with. He hovers his fork over his plate excitedly until he’s made his choice, stabbing the food and stuffing it in his mouth.

  His eyes are fixed on me as he chews. I smile back and his plump little cheeks blush.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t get to say hi to you last night when you got here. I’m Charlie.” The young boy nods at my introduction from across the table. “How are the pancakes?”

  His chubby cheeks are busy chewing his mouthful of food, but his eyes look delighted. Noise brings my attention behind the child, as his father stumbles in and enters the room in a sleep-grog state.

  Brendan watches me as he works on his plate, either oblivious to his dad’s presence, or uninterested in it. Clink pauses long enough behind the boy to muss his hair and plant a kiss on top of his head.

  “Mornin’,slugger,” he greets his mini-me son, while winking at me from behind Brendan’s back. “You two getting to know each other?”

  He pours himself the mug I’d set out for him, and turns to rest against the countertop, facing us both. His plaid pajama pants are untied, but hanging over his hips. His chest is bare, muscles dancing as he crosses his arms, watching our interaction.

  “I think we’re on the right track,” I smirk to my new buddy. “Want another pancake, kiddo?”

  He smiles, and shares his first words with me, “Yes, please.”

  ******

  CLINK

  “What about a spare change of clothes, in case he spills something?” Sugar disappears back into the house to grab the clothes.

  Crap! Here we go again! I press my palm into the steering wheel and grip hard. This is her third trip back in the house. We haven’t even left the driveway yet.

  “You OK back there, bud?” I look into the rearview mirror to check on the kid. The cartoon playing on the screen in front of him has him distracted enough. His eyes are fixed on the colorful pixels displayed on the fold-down screen. I check the time on the dashboard clock and roll my eyes again. At this rate, the kid’s gonna need another bathroom run before we finally get going.

  Sugar locks the door behind her…again…and joins us inside the
cab of the truck. Smiling ear to ear, acting as if she’s just solved a worldwide catastrophe.

  “I grabbed the travel first aid kit, too. Just in case,” she proudly informs me.

  I laugh, while throwing the gear into reverse. “You sure you don’t want to grab his pillow and blanket in case he wants to nap?”

  Her head perks up from the pile of children's clothing in her lap. “Good idea!.”

  Oh fuck! I push the automatic lock button quick, before Sugar has the chance to open her door. “Babe…I was joking. Relax….”

  The frustration at possibly being unprepared is eating away at her. “What if there’s something we forgot?”

  I laugh. “Impossible. And we’re only gonna be gone a few hours. There’ll be other parents there, and kids…I’m sure Jean’s got plenty of stuff to keep them busy.” I reach out to grab her hand and raise it to nip playfully on her knuckles to distract her.

  She scowls at me. I fucking love it! This woman can scowl at me all she wants.

  “Hey Brendan,” she calls out behind her. “Are you excited to meet Ava?”

  We’ve been preparing him for all of the people he’s about to meet tonight. Out of all the brother’s kids, Ava is closest in age to him. Brendan’s a quiet kid, it’ll be interesting to see how he interacts with Trojan’s daughter. She’s…a handful.

  “She’s really pretty, Brendan,” Charlie adds.

  We both take advantage of our stopped position at the traffic light to look back and see his reaction. He doesn’t disappoint, and makes a grossed-out face.

  “Cooties?” Charlie asks him.

  He nods his head up and down, while barely removing his eyes from the movie, “Yup.”

  His gelled mini spikes don’t move with his nodding, though. Sugar spent enough time perfecting the hairstyle Sunny gave him this morning down at her shop, that I know she’ll flip her shit if it gets messed up before he makes his debut.