“Why did you want me to buy you a bathin’ suit if you are not gettin’ in the water?”
I turn my head to look at the man who’s voice always sends a zing of warmth flooding through my system. That Irish accent is one of the reasons I climbed on the back of his bike after he showed up unsuspectingly at my parent’s house. Like some freaky super power, it has the ability to make me melt. Sometimes I ask him to tell me about his day just so I can fall asleep listening to him talk. That’s how much I love it.
“What if something attacks me in there?” I joke.
“I’ll protect you,” he smugly states.
“You’re not even wearing swimming trunks.”
“I’ve got me Irish flag boxers on. That’s all I need.”
That being said, Tony begins to take off his shirt, showing me and the world his defined abs in all their glory. His colorful tattoos that I’ve become accustom to tracing with my fingers are even brighter in the sunlight. He’s had the portrait of the wolf on his chest since I’ve known him. When we first started dating, I asked why he chose that animal. His response was simple. He liked it. Some people are picky about what they put on their body, but not Tony. He just enjoys the feeling of being tattooed. He doesn’t think twice about the design he picks. His arms are covered in ink starting from the elbows on up, all that old color making it hard to tell what you are looking at unless you’re up close. The newest edition to his body art is the lettering that runs across the top of his abdomen. Irish is spelled out in black and grey ink, essentially reminding me of the new life he lives.
“Like what you see?” He jokingly asks, throwing a sly smile in my direction.
“I’ve seen better,” I lie in a bored tone while shrugging my shoulders. The truth is, Tony is gorgeous. His hair. His eyes. His skin tone. The list goes on and on, but I think you get the point. There isn’t anything on this man that’s not sexy, and despite my untruthful reply, he knows it.
“Bring me to him and I’ll make sure he’s ugly when I’ve finished.”
Irish finishes his statement while holding up both his fists like he is a boxer standing in the middle of the ring waiting for the bell to ring. The ridiculous scowl he jokingly places on his face makes me laugh out loud, but I eventually get myself back under control enough to reply.
“Take a chill pill and put down your fist, Mike Tyson,” I laugh out. “I was only kidding.”
“You know what your bossy side does to me,” he states, wiggling his eyebrows up and down in a suggestive way.
This is the side of Irish I love the most. His playful attitude easily makes his happiness contagious. Seeing the enjoyment that our conversation is bringing him also makes me feel more secure and confident. This man, that has the body of a god and the face to go with it, loves me like no other person could. He finds me beautiful. He finds me worthy.
“Shut up and take off your pants.” I make sure to command him using a strong tone. As he begins to unbutton his jeans, I start to take off my baggy clothes as well. Being in a swimsuit in front of all these people with these scars covering most of my skin is a little nerve wracking, but the smile on Tony’s face is the only thing I need to see to continue. After he has stripped down to nothing but his boxers, letting everyone see how proud he is to be an Irish man, I take the hand he has extended toward me.
“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he says, all the humor from earlier now gone. I allow his words to sink in, and gain some strength from the knowledge that he still finds me attractive. To be honest, I was beginning to think he found me repulsive. Time after time, I have thrown myself at Tony just for him to turn me down. At first, he would use my injuries as an excuse then it was his busy schedule, and now he tells me he’s too tired. Isn’t that the woman’s excuse when she just isn’t in the mood to fake another orgasm? My life is turning into a sitcom gone wrong.
“You went from smiling like a fat kid eating chocolate cake to frowning like a fat kid who dropped his chocolate cake.”
When his joke doesn’t cause me to laugh like he had hoped it would, Tony pulls me closer. Positioning me the way he wants, I am now standing directly in front of him. Wrapping his hands around my waist, he continues to lead us to the water with me walking backward. The first touch of the cool liquid to my feet causes me to flinch, and him to smile.
“What’s wrong with me girl?” Tony questions.
“I think you know,” I answer, hoping he understands exactly what I’m talking about, especially with the look I send his way.
“We’ve talked about this, Mo Anam Cara,” he sweetly states.
“No, you’ve talked. I’ve listened, and to be honest, I’m tired of listening.”
The crossing of my arms, like a child, probably doesn’t help my case, but I can’t help it. I grow more irritated every day, and Tony has no one to blame but himself. He did take my virginity after all. It’s his fault for showing me how amazing sex is, not mine.
When Tony leans into my body to whisper into my ear, I almost decide to jump his bones in front of everyone here. If dogs and other animals can have sex in public, why can’t we? Call me crazy, but I’m almost certain not one of these bikers would mind.
“Do you have any idea how sexy you are when you pout?” He whispers into my ear. Taking a deep inhale, I immediately regret it because the smell of his cologne does nothing to control the hormones now flooding my system. The scent of Tony’s freshness helps me to zero in on everything he’s doing. Tony’s hands begin to tighten their hold on my hips, his way of silently telling me not to move.
“Are you wet for me, Ashley?” He says close to my ear using a tone that causes my knees to grow weak. The way his tongue rolls over my name so easily reminds me of the other amazing things that specific appendage can do.
“Yes,” I answer honestly, squeezing my thighs together to try to relieve some of the pressure growing at my core. With every breath I take, I try to inch closer to his body in hopes he will take me into the deep end and remind me how amazing his fingers can be too.
“Would you like me to help you with that?”
“Yes.” It takes me no time at all to answer his question. Of course, I would like his help. I’ve been begging him to do just that for the past week. I’m beginning to think he is the one with the memory loss, not me. Then, without notice or warning he picks me up and launches my overheated body into the water. Thankfully, we had already wandered into the waist deep end, and I will come out of this without any further injuries. When I finally emerge from the murky water, my once hormone-filled blood cells are now pulsing with irritation. If it’s a game he wants. It’s a game he’ll get. I’ll make sure Tony regrets this, one way or another.
After hours of fun in the sun, no matter how cliché that sounds, we all end up leaving the lake with smiles on our faces. The time away from the clubhouse was much needed, and I’m certain everyone feels that way. Part of me is excited to tell Casey I was able to leave the house, hang out with people I’m starting to consider friends, and actually forget that I am a walking time bomb. I use this metaphor because I have a powerful feeling that once my memories come back the shit is going to hit the fan. There is a reason my brain has destroyed them, and I’m not going to kid myself into believing anything else.
Traveling down one of the small main roads in this quiet town of Brady, also known as the heart of Texas, Tony starts to slow down behind Taz, who I now know as the club’s VP, as he starts to come to a stop at a red light. Buck, the president of the men and the biker Allison is riding with, is leading the pack. Looking to my left, on this two-lane road, I see a group of men pull up on their slick, and incredibly fast, motorcycles that range in bright colors from orange to blue. When the leader of their pack revs his engine loud enough to get everyone’s attention, I get a sinking feeling in my stomach.
“Hang on,” Tony’s voice yells out as he twists around just enough for me to hear him.
As soon as I tighten my hold aroun
d his abdomen, the machine below takes off with a force that nearly sends me flying backwards into the wind. I would never have guessed that a Harley of this size could beat the transformer-looking bikes off the narrow white line, but regardless of their slower long term speed, this club’s toys have more take off than theirs do.
It isn’t long before we’re pulling into a convenient store, followed closely by the men our group has obviously left an impression on. Irish along with Buck, Torch, and Hammer pull up at the vacant pumps, preparing to fill up. Before they are able to start pumping their gas, the leader of the fancy bikers gets off his bike that is parked a few feet away. Taking off his helmet, I almost laugh out loud when I see his blonde locks caked with enough gel to paint the store behind us. It would seem he was worried the helmet may mess up his pretty boy looks so he went a little overboard in the mousse department.
Like the blind leading the blind, his friends follow him over toward our pump that sits parallel to Buck’s. It doesn’t take long before I see Torch and Hammer eat up the space between them and us, coming forward to finish forming a wall of muscle that shields us women. Taking off my helmet, I look over at my sister and notice she’s surveying the men. The look on her face reminding me of all the terrible decisions she made as a child.
“You’re taking up the last of the pumps. Let’s agree that you and your friends can use two, and we get the other two.”
The golden boy is speaking up on behalf of all the strange guys. I just find it odd that these young men, that look like a bunch of spoiled rich douche bags, are actually trying to stand up to actual bikers. I guess they have a false sense of confidence because they outnumber our bikers ten to six.
“Listen son,” Buck starts to say before he is rudely interrupted by one of the braver men in the back.
“He’s not your son, old man. Take your shitty bikes and move them before we have a problem.”
Tony, who has never had much tolerance for blatant disrespect, clenches his fists at his sides and I just know he’s about to lunge at the large man in front of him. It doesn’t surprise me that he would be the one to get stuck with goliath. I just hope he’s able to move quick enough to avoid getting hit by that man’s baseball glove sized hands.
The laugh that Buck lets out sends chills down my spine. Some of the less brave men on their side flinch, but quickly recover when Taz and Teller, who were parked away from the pumps, walk up to join in on the fun. Seconds tick by and I start to feel a sense of relief when nothing happens, but then like an eagle swooping down onto a snake, Teller snatches one of the men up by the neck. I had a feeling this man was dangerous, beyond anything I’ve ever witnessed, but the look in his blue eyes while he taunts his opponent is something out of a horror film. Teller seems to be enjoying this, a lot.
His attack is enough to send everyone else into a frenzy. All the men collide like magnets being stuck to metal, while I can do nothing but watch. Irish is bobbing and weaving through the air, easily avoiding his opponent’s fist while sending multiple blows to the man’s abdomen.
An unsuspecting noise comes from behind me before I see Mia start swinging her tiny fist at the runt of their group. She manages to hit him directly on the nose, surprising me with how accurate her aim is. Then, like a row of dominoes, the rest of the women fall into line with Mia. Rebecca jumps on one of their backs, her thumbs instantly trying to seek out the stupid man’s eye sockets. It isn’t until I see Allison lunge at the man Tony is concentrating on that I decide to join. No way will I allow another woman, even if she is my sister and I am scared out of my wits, to protect my man. As soon as Allison sends a punch to the man’s side, goliath turns his attention from Tony to her. That gives me the opportunity to jump on his back, quickly learning how to properly do it by watching Rebecca. If I can slink my arms around his fat neck maybe I can squeeze enough to put him to sleep. A sleeping giant is better than an active one.
“What the fuck?”
I can barely understand Tony now that he is pissed. That Irish accent is bleeding through every word, causing it to sound like a jumbled mess. When the monster Allison and I are tag teaming starts to spin in a circle, my stomach does flips. It feels like I am on a merry-go-round that might lead me to an early grave. Hanging on as tight as I can, I hear Allison start grunting and yelling at Tony.
“We’re only finishing what they started. Let me go. Ashley can’t take him by herself. “
“Back the fuck up,” Tony hollers, “so I can get her down.”
As I am being spun around like a plastic toy top, I can see the chaos going on around me. Mia is still trying to get at the man she was beating while Torch holds her back with a scowl on his face. Her colorful language on full display as she struggles in his arms. Rebecca has settled down now that she is wrapped tightly in Hammer’s arms.
Suddenly, I start to feel somewhat sorry for Tony when I realize he has two women to stop. Feeling his hands wrap around my waist sends relief flooding my nerves. It’s only when a monstrous voice booms out in anger and pain that the giant man stops spinning.
“You fucking bitch.”
Tony easily captures me in his arms as the man ceases all movement. Turning my attention toward the voice I heard, all I can see is one of theirs knocked out cold on the ground while Teller leads Scarlett away. He has a secure grip on her left hand, but that’s not what surprises me. It’s the shiny knife that is firmly clenched in her right fist that causes me to blink in confusion.
“Have you lost your fuckin’ mind?” Tony turns me around in his arms, keeping me where he wants by securing a strong hold on my shoulders. “I didn’t need your help. That mother fucker could have hurt you, Ashley. What if I would have lost you again?”
“Irish, stop.”
My sister Allison is trying to get between Tony and I, the sound of my own voice trying to cut into the trance Tony’s eyes have me in. I don’t like the feeling I get in my stomach knowing I have caused this strong man to look like he is about to crumble from fear. I don’t know where this sense of alarm he is feeling roots from, but I know I never want to be the cause of it again.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
“Do not do that again.”
I nod my head in agreeance. Tony is still upset, and all I want, no need, is for him to wrap me in his arms. Him ordering me around like I am a disobedient child doesn’t bother me. I can honestly say I will never be that brave, or stupid, again.
“I love you,” he mumbles while wrapping his arms around me. Returning the gesture, I place my head on his chest and take in the feeling of his warmth. Tony’s arms feel safe. Like they are my home, where I am supposed to be. While he holds me, I replay the words he angrily stated. His mood allowed him to make a mistake and I now know he’s terrified of losing me because it’s happened once before. I don’t know how, but I know there is nothing or no one that could pull me from his arms again. This is where I belong. With or without my memories.
Ashley
Arriving back at the compound, after the store manager threatened to arrest everyone, Irish leads me back to our room for a much-needed shower. He quickly pulls me away from anyone that might want to talk to us, determination lining his face. I get a sense he is still upset with me, so I clamp my mouth shut and allow him to whisk me away like a damsel in distress.
“You take the first shower.” Tony’s voice leaves no room for compromise, but I decide to have a go at it anyway. Waiting for him to shut the door, effectively locking out the rest of the house, I give him my best bedroom eyes.
“I say we save time and take one together.”
As I continue to stare him down, hoping I look sexy, not ridiculous, I begin to unbutton the shorts I’m wearing that honestly didn’t leave much to the imagination anyway. I make a quick mental note not to borrow any clothing from my slutty sister again. I can tell I’ve almost got him convinced to do it my way when I see him visibly swallow down his words of protest. Instead of immediately agreeing, he starts to agg
ressively chew on the toothpick that is sticking out of the side of his mouth. Allowing the shorts to fall to the floor, I step away from the discarded material, inching my way closer to Tony’s body.
“You know you want to.”
The next article of clothing to hit the floor is my shirt. Reaching behind my back, I begin to untie one of the knots that are keeping my bathing suit top firmly in place. Unlike most women, my scars don’t bother me when I’m with a man. He constantly tells me how beautiful I am, and there is nothing but truth in those words every time he speaks them. The only thing making me self-conscious right now is the fact that he has turned my advances down for weeks.
“Ashley,” his tone comes off as a warning, but I ignore it. I want him, and I know he wants me if the size of my old friend is anything to go by. I can’t help but lick my lips just thinking about the possibility of us becoming acquainted once again.
“I’m going to hell,” Tony mumbles to himself before spitting the splintered wood to the ground. Lunging forward, he attacks my mouth with an urgency I have missed. This is the Tony I remember. The man that could never keep his hands or mouth off me long enough to get anything accomplished. He trails one of his hands up my back, easily unfastening the knot I was working on while using the other to keep me in place by tangling it in my long hair. Once the offending material is gone, he makes easy work of taking off my bathing suit bottoms. Hoisting me up, making it impossible not to straddle his waist, Tony begins to walk backwards as he continues to take control of my mouth like a man on a mission. It’s like I have released a beast from its shackles and there is no stopping it now. His rough hands are keeping me safely locked in place by clutching my backside. His tongue is doing wonderful things against mine. The anticipation of what is about to happen is sending a delicious sizzle through my bloodstream.
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