Stud_Motorcycle Club Romance

by ML Nystrom

  I blinked and thought a moment about the kiss that Stud and I had shared just a few hours ago. It hadn’t meant a thing to him, based on the goings-on in his room.

  “Nope.” I popped the p. “He’s in the back getting a biker bunny blowjob right now from none other than Nikki the bottle-blonde bimbo. How’s that for alliteration?”

  Table choked. “Damn, baby! You don’t pull back, do you?”

  “I got five older brothers. What do you think?”

  He chuckled and tipped his beer to his mouth, taking a swallow to clear his throat. “No, I guess you don’t. Damn! Nikki? Christ almighty, that boy is messed up!” His face got serious. “I found out my wife cheated on me. More than once, so that’s a deal breaker for me. I will not cheat, and I expect the same. I’ll be honest in that I’m not ready to start something big with someone else ’cause technically I’m still married, but I’d really like to get to know you better.”

  I was both flattered and intimidated. My dating life had been nonexistent for so long, I wasn’t sure how to handle this.

  “I appreciate your honesty, Table.” I looked him in the eye. “I’m not too sure of life myself right now, but I’m always down with making new friends. Start there?”

  He smiled those gorgeous teeth at me. “Sounds good, baby. We still need to play that game of pool!”

  We finished eating and he took the paper plates to dump in the main trash cans outside. I hesitated going back down the hall to get my clothes, but fuck it! I was a big girl and could handle anything. I still breathed a sigh of relief when I saw Stud’s door hanging open to an empty room.

  I went back to Table’s room and started dressing. Ah! Nothing feels quite as good as putting on warm clothes fresh from the dryer!

  I came out of Table’s room smoothing my hands over my top and shorts and ran right into my father. Connor was right behind him, wearing a concerned look. I didn’t realize what it looked like until Da screwed up his face in shock and anger.

  “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!” he yelled. “What are you doing alone in a man’s room?”

  If I wasn’t so mortified, I would have rolled my eyes at his double standard. It was okay for his sons to fuck around, but anything involving me? He would be dragging me to a confessional for a deluge of “Hail Mary’s” and “Our Father’s,” and we weren’t even Catholic.

  Not much was worse than having a parent embarrass you in front of people. What was worse was when one of those people was the man you wanted to avoid the rest of your life. Stud came around the corner and both saw and heard my da. His look was nothing short of furious, which made me angry as he, of all people, had no right to judge.

  Connor looked at me with a weird expression. I’d said more than once to him during our brother-sister coffee chats that I was getting tired of being treated like I was still at a single-digit age. He was the only brother who seemed to acknowledge that I was a woman, but even he still had trouble recognizing I was no longer a child.

  “You okay, Eva?” he asked, his face and mouth almost as tight as Da’s.

  How to deal with this? It never had been in me to back down from a fight.

  “Of course I’m okay!” I exploded. “Table was helping me out while my clothes dried from being dunked by the asswipe twins! Anything else is no one’s business!” I stomped down the hall and out of the door, with the intention of finding someone to drive me back down to my tiny house. Grrr! Drama!

  Stud groaned and thrust deep into Nikki’s hungry mouth as he came. She sucked in deep, swallowing every drop, then jumped back and squeaked when the dryer suddenly came to life, but neither of them saw who was in the hallway. She sat back on her knees and licked her puffy lips.

  “You good, baby?” she purred.

  He didn’t know how to answer. He’d just come, sucked off by an expert, a woman he’d spent himself in many times, and yet felt nothing. Not a shred of satisfaction. Why was he even doing it? Couldn’t be because he spotted Eva holding hands with Table. Jealously was not in his nature. She didn’t belong to him. He was a free agent and could fuck whomever he wanted, right?

  “Yeah, sweetheart, I’m good,” he said automatically. Nikki didn’t notice his lack of conviction.

  “Knew you’d come back to me. Ain’t no woman better’n me for you,” she huffed as she stood and started stripping. “Ain’t no Bambi hussy gonna take my man.”

  Stud stared at her. Overbleached hair, thick makeup trying to cover her bad skin tone and deepening wrinkles, and a body that was way too skinny. Ribs and protruding hip bones had him thinking she needed to lay off the booze and the drugs. She looked like a street hustler trying to find her next fix.

  “Ain’t no dyke gonna take my man either!” she declared as she climbed on his bed and flopped on her back. She drew her knees up and spread her legs wide, presenting him with a full view of her bare pussy. She fingered herself, stroking between her legs and moaning dramatically, giving him a real show.

  “This is all for you, baby. My man, Stud,” she crooned as her fingers moved. “My old man, Stud.”

  He should have been turned on. He should have been ready to go again. He should live up to his name and jumped on the writhing woman spreading herself for his pleasure.

  Instead he felt numb. Empty.

  “Time to go, Nikki,” he announced in a dead voice while he tucked himself away and zipped up his jeans.

  Her hands stopped moving between her legs and she blinked up at him owlishly. “What?”

  “You’re not coming in my room or my bed anymore. I’m done.”

  “You’re teasin’ me, aren’tcha, baby?” she whined, pushing out her lower lip in what was supposed to be a sexy pout. It didn’t work.

  “I’m serious. This is it. I’m not your old man and never will be. You might even want to take a break from the club. Get yourself clean. Whatever you’re on isn’t doing you any good,” he said as he picked up her clothes and tossed them on the bed next to her.

  He tuned out the rest of what she was saying while she cussed and dressed. Thoughts swirled in his brain, looping over themselves and twisting like snakes. Eva and Table. He was a good man who was dealing with a lot of shit right now. Maybe Eva could handle it, maybe not. He was more suited than Stud to be an old man, better at committing, better man all the way around. Eva was a good woman and didn’t realize her own potential. Any red-blooded man would see her worth and want that for himself. Why didn’t he want it for himself? He had baggage too. More than Table? Yes. Maybe. Don’t know. All those nights talking, watching movies and Netflix series, the comfortable space he shared with Eva… was there more? He found Eva fascinating and the more time he spent with her, the more time he wanted to spend with her. Did he even deserve it?

  Nikki finished dressing and huffed her way to the door.

  “You’ll come back to me again, baby. You always do.” She smirked and left.

  Stud felt nothing.

  He paused a moment and walked out into the hallway, his thoughts still whirling as he spotted Table carrying two full plates of barbecue. He shuffled the plates, balancing them on his arm so he could knock on his own door. Stud felt a two-by-four hit him in the solar plexus when Eva opened the room and smiled at Table. She was wearing his clothes! She took a plate from him and backed into the room. Table followed, closing the door behind him.

  Stud’s jaw got so tight his teeth were ready to crack. Nope. Didn’t matter to him what Eva was doing in Table’s room. Not a bit. He tamped down the urge to burst through the closed door and beat the ever-lovin’ shit out of his club brother and stalked outside to his bike. He had the urge to fire it up, drive up to the Tail, and take a hard ride, but he managed to quell it. The Tail of the Dragon was a fierce mistress who demanded respect. Riding on her angry and reckless could cost you dearly, even your life. He’d already experienced what the Tail would do to anyone riding her without complete focus. He’d been flirting with a woman he was carrying on the back of his bike when a deer ra
n out in front of them and he’d had a nasty wreck. She had been okay, but he had paid with a broken arm and twisted ankle. That was mild in comparison to what it could have been.

  Stud breathed in deeply as he ran his hands over the sleek lines of his bike, forcing himself to calm down and think. Eva and Table. Yes, they were a good fit. Eva and Stud. Not such a good fit. Simple as that. Yet he was drawn to her, and the thought of letting her go to be with his brother twisted his gut in a knot.

  He stood there a while, just stroking his bike and listening to the distant sound of the kids who were back in the pool. He realized he left his helmet in his room and would need it if he decided to go for ride in any capacity. He went back in the Lair and heard Fergus’s bellow. Coming down the hallway, he spotted the man, Connor and a red-faced Eva. It was clear she was being dressed down by her father, and it was equally clear, she was not having any of it. The look on her face when she spotted him sent a ball of dread dropping through his body to his toes. She saw him with Nikki. Fuck!

  “Of course I’m okay! Table was helping me out while my clothes dried from being dunked by the asswipe twins! Anything else is no one’s business!” Stud felt her words hit him like bullets. She stomped down the hall and left all three men standing there. Fergus blustered something, but Stud didn’t really pay attention to it. Connor looked ready to chase after her but held himself back. He glanced at Stud, his manner one of frustration. Both MacAteer men finally left, and Stud really didn’t care where they went.

  “Hey, Stuuuudd!”

  He turned to see Bambi coming down the back hall and waving at him. Stud looked at her fiercely for a moment and mentally tallied the remaining condom supply in his room. Best way to get over a woman was to get in another, right? He learned that lesson a long time ago.

  Then why did he feel like shit?

  He made a decision that would surprise anyone in the club who knew him. It even surprised him. He smiled gently and shook his head at the hopeful look in Bambi’s eyes. Instead of losing himself between the thighs of a random woman, he went to his room and got his helmet. A hard run on the Tail sounded better than risking the heart of the young girl any further. Maybe it was time to rethink his habits.

  Nine

  Fuck my life! I thought viciously as my foot slipped a bit again. Garrett and Owen were putting in the wood flooring, Connor and Da were checking the wiring as Da was the electrician of our crew, and I was on the roof of the new River’s Edge Bar, setting cement around the stones that framed the chimney. Even though it was stone veneer, we still needed to make it as authentic-looking as possible. I unfortunately got put on the building team with Patrick and Angus, and of course drew the short straw to go up on the roof. This did not fill me with joy—I was sick of the drama that seemed to want to follow me.

  It was Friday morning, only five short days after the barbecue at the Lair. It was amazing how much had happened in just five days.

  On Monday, Table had come to the job site, rumbling up on his black and silver Harley.

  “Hey, Eva, what’s shakin’?” he had asked, pulling off the small helmet some called a brain bucket. There wasn’t a lot of it there and I wondered how much protection it would provide in a real crash.

  “This damn miter saw, that’s what! Blade’s been running rough all day, but the boss doesn’t want to put money into a new one.” I shot a pointed look at Da, who was standing by one of the finished walls. Connor was with him, ticking off measurements and running a plumb line to check for straightness.

  “How are you?” I asked.

  “I’m good.” He grinned and then winced as I drew the circular blade down, forcing it to bite into the two-by-four at an angle. The saw screamed in protest and I had to grip the piece harder in my work glove to make it stay put. “Damn, baby! Sounds like you’re killing it!”

  “Nope, we’re just fighting a bit. But I’m going to win,” I grunted as the piece finally cut, not as cleanly as I would have liked, but until Da coughed up a new blade I had to make do.

  “Ha! Told you!” I crowed, holding the angled cut up like it was show-and-tell.

  He grinned at me. “No doubt. Speaking of winning, we never did get that pool game in yesterday. You busy tonight? We can go grab a bite at this Mexican place I know over in Maggie Valley and play a few games at the bar.”

  “Is this like a real date?” I asked, tossing the piece and picking up another one.

  He preened. “It’s not like a real date, it is a real date. Dinner and a game of pool instead of dinner and a movie.”

  Something about using the D-word felt really, really wrong.

  Maybe it was because Stud appeared in the work trailer’s doorway. He took off his nerd glasses and stared hard at Table. I guessed we were done. No more surprise visits with food or beer, no throwing microwave popcorn at each other while arguing the intricacies of sci-fi films, no cuddles, and no more kisses.

  Stud had been really short with me the couple of times I had to speak to him this morning. He could just be having a bad day, but it was such a change from how he normally treated me that I had to wonder. It couldn’t have been anything to do with that confrontation he had with Table at the party, could it? What was that even about—I still didn’t speak biker, but if it was about me, and that’s why Stud was being a dick this morning, he needed to get over himself. He’d been with more than one woman since I’d met him. Fuck that!

  “I—um—no, I don’t have plans. I’ll go on a date with you.”

  I went out with Table that Monday night to a Mexican place about a half hour’s ride on the back of his big black Harley—which was a blast! I was so getting a bike of my own as soon as I could. Table was the perfect gentleman. Even with his scary biker look, which seemed to intimidate everyone at the restaurant, he was polite and nice. He opened doors for me, guided me through the maze of tables with a hand at my waist, let me order first, held my hand any chance he got, and when we went to a local bar to shoot pool, he let me break the first game. We talked, smiled, and laughed. He was a terrific man, and I felt comfortable enough with him to share my secret love of sewing. I really was starting to like him.

  The date was great and ended with a long, wet kiss in front of my tiny house. That was it. No pushing to spend the night or take it to the next level. He came to my place Tuesday night and we watched a movie curled up on my sofa bed. It felt strange to be curled up next to Table instead of Stud, but it was obvious to me that he was done. I couldn’t say it didn’t hurt, but I also knew it wasn’t my problem.

  Table talked about his soon-to-be ex-wife and his shitty marriage. I talked about my life on the road. He told me his real name was James. I showed him the quilt I had started, and he seemed impressed.

  “I have a queen size at my place, babe. No particular color scheme,” he said, his eyes sparkling. “Just saying.”

  When he kissed me, he did it soft and stealthily. His lips molded to mine, and he flicked his tongue against them until I opened for him. I could feel the excitement build in both of us. I squirmed against him, wanting more, and found myself on my back with him pressing me into the cushions. My mouth was full of his taste and my body on fire. One of his hands drifted upwards and covered my breast, flicking my nipple back and forth with his thumb. I gasped into his mouth at the electricity shooting through me. He pulled down the shoulder of my tank top, and my bra strap with it. He sucked my nipple into his mouth while rolling the other between his fingers and I cried out at the sensations that set the nub of flesh between my legs pulsing with unfamiliar need. I was ready to panic, but didn’t want this ache to stop.

  He let go of my nipple with a soft pop. Breathing hard, he closed his eyes as if pulling himself back into control.

  “Separation papers are filed, but technically I’m still married, sweetheart,” he said, threading his fingers through my mine and looking directly in my eyes. “You know I gotta thing about cheaters. I want you bad, but I can’t until I’m fully divorced. It’s happen
ing real soon. Can you wait?”

  Yeah, I can wait. I also can’t wait!

  It went to shit Thursday night.

  It started out okay. Table picked me up in his truck after a long workday, and we went into town for dinner and to the temporary bar for drinks and pool. Stud’s band was playing, and he was fiddling on stage with his equipment when we arrived. He had his normal bunch of groupies around him vying for attention, but he still noticed when Table and I walked in. He frowned when Table put his arm around me and pulled me close, staking a public claim. Stud didn’t speak to me or even look in my direction. Fuck him!

  I wasn’t sure about a future between Table and me, but I was starting to hope there was one. I was really beginning to like him. He was a good man, one with a lot of integrity, which was a rare thing. Being coupled with him wouldn’t be bad, as I knew he would always treat me well.

  A short blonde woman walked in while I was lining up a tricky shot. She was dressed in old jeans and a faded Harley T-shirt. Normally she wouldn’t stand out in a biker bar, except she had a diaper bag over one arm and one of those baby carrier thingies on the other. Not too many parents would bring babies to a bar. She scanned the room, and when her eyes landed on Table and me, her mouth turned down and she strode over to us with purpose. I felt a cold lump settle in my gut. Something was about to happen that may not be so good.

  “Table!” she shouted, getting his and everyone else’s attention.

  She gave me a hard look and pointedly raised her nose. Really?

  “What the fuck do you want?” Table growled, not bothering to look at her. He was eyeing the baby carrier. This was the soon-to-be-ex. He stood next to the pool table, clutching his cue stick between furious white knuckles. Table hadn’t hidden anything from me, and I trusted him. Somehow I knew the baby was a surprise to him.

  “We need to talk!” she shouted again, lugging the carrier and the bag to where we were playing.

  “I don’t gotta do nothin’ for you,” he snapped back, moving around the table and looking at the pattern of balls. It was clearly a gesture of dismissal, but I noticed his hands were shaking.