by Ryan Michele
“Let’s see what we can do here.” I rearrange the feathers so they all look cohesive, then quickly sew them to the fabric strap intended to hold them together. After getting her sorted, I had to redo the lineup because two of the girls called in. Surprise, surprise. Good thing is I was able to get ahold of one who had the night off and was willing to work.
I spoke with Ace and Doug, telling them to make sure to call me if there are problems. To which Tug said, “You fucking handle them. Don’t be calling.” Stubborn man.
“All finished. You ready to go?”
Tug reaches out, wrapping his arm around my shoulders, and kisses the top of my head. “Been ready to get out of here.”
I gather our things and head to Tug’s bike. I love being on the back of this man’s bike. You talk about high? This is the ultimate high. Who the hell needs drugs when you have Tug and his bike. I wrap my arms around him, enjoying the sensation of the wind whipping around us.
Every once in a while, Tug will squeeze my hand or arm, letting me know he’s thinking of me. I return it. Having to deal with my past has been the most challenging thing ever. I’m so grateful that I have my man helping me.
We pull into Bimbo’s and Tug cuts the engine. I climb off the bike and take off my helmet, placing it in Tug’s outstretched hand. I have only been here one other time and that was a while ago. I can’t help but feel a bit apprehensive about going into a biker bar, but with Tug with me, I have no worries.
Entering, we hear a loud round of ‘Heys’ and get hugs from everyone. Luckily, I’ve met some of the other ol’ ladies, because Princess and Casey aren’t here yet. And I sure as hell don’t want to go over and stand in the guy huddle by the bar looking like a lost puppy.
“I’m gonna go get a beer. You want one?”
“Sure. I’m gonna go sit with Leggs.” I nod my head towards her as she waves me over. Leggs is Becs’s ol’ lady and nice as pie. She’s sitting with a couple of the other ol’ ladies, but I don’t remember their names. Shit. Tug pulls me to him, kissing me hard, then walks off.
“Hey, sugar, come have a seat,” Legs says, patting the stool beside her.
“Thanks.” I sit, telling Flash hi as well. I wish I didn’t feel so damn uncomfortable. These women have never give me a reason to, but it’s just all so new.
After a half hour of chitchat and a couple of beers, I’m a little more relaxed, when Casey and GT walk in with huge smiles on their faces. Casey comes up and gives me a hug. A few minutes later, Princess and Cruz come in as well. It’s pretty funny how the noise level increases so much when brothers and their ol’ ladies walk in. Leggs and Flash take off for the bathroom.
“So, did Cruz remember Valentine’s Day?” Casey asks with a chuckle.
“Nah. Coop reminded him.” The waitress drops off beers and takes off. “What about my brother? Did he?”
Casey just laughs and I can’t help but chuckle with her. “Uh, no. When I told him Happy Valentine’s Day this morning, he said, ‘Don’t tell me you’re into that shit.’” She shrugs. “Typical guy. So I showed him exactly what I was into.” She wiggles her brow.
“All right.” Princess holds up her hand in a stop maneuver. “I don’t want to hear the details of you fucking my brother, thank you very much.”
“So, you don’t want to know that I rode him then he finished me off doggie?” Casey continues. “Come on, you know it’s funny.”
I can’t help but burst out laughing, so hard that tears roll down my cheeks. “What about you? Tug remember?” Princess asks and my laughter dies to a playful smirk.
“Absolutely. I woke up this morning to a large peacock feather moving up and down my body, from the top of my head to the tip of my toes and everywhere in between.” My body warms just thinking of the feather’s touch. Damn. “Then…” I trail off, not really wanting to give the sordid details. Some things are meant to be kept private. “You know.” I wave my hand, trying to blow it off. “We ate, checked on X, and came here.”
“Where in the hell did he get a peacock feather?” Casey asks. “I’ve only seen a real one of those at a zoo.”
I know exactly where he got it, but I am keeping my mouth shut. “All I know is every touch of that damn thing made my skin come alive. That’s all that matters.” I pause, thinking about this morning again. “I’m definitely keeping that damn thing. We will have round two.” We all laugh but I am so not joking.
“I didn’t expect Cruz to remember and I really don’t care about it. It’s just a day and I tell him I love him all the time. It’s what I have planned for him later that I’m ready for,” Princess says.
“What do you have planned?” Casey asks, interrupting my daydream.
“I’m not saying.” That little wench. All right, who am I kidding? I didn’t tell them about everything that went on with us, either.
“Come on. I need some ideas,” I beg, leaning against the table and sucking in Princess’s words like a sponge.
“Too damn bad. Google it,” Princess retorts.
I pretend to pout. “I asked Tug the other day if I could tie him to the bed and he refused. Stubborn man. Then I asked him if I could massage him, nope on that one too. He said he’d much rather massage me. Whatever.”
“GT does like a good rubdown.” Casey taps her mouth with her finger, an evil smirk playing on her lips. She loves giving Princess shit.
“What the hell?” I jump as Casey grabs Princess’s hand, inspecting her finger. “You’re engaged? That should have been the first words out of your damn mouth!”
Casey holds Princess’s hand out to me and I sit back in shock. Holy shit. The black with black and white stones, it is so her. Cruz did so good. “Oh shit, girl. It’s gorgeous.”
I let go of Princess’s hand and stand up. I’m not sure what comes over me, but I whistle loudly, getting the attention of everyone in the room. All eyes fall on me. I have a moment of ‘oh shit’ but tamp it down and continue. “Drinks are in order! Princess and Cruz are getting married.” Then, it’s a mob. Everyone is on Princess and Cruz, congratulating them. This is so exciting.
Casey and Princess are both marrying the men they love. Will I ever get married? Would Tug even ask me? How would I answer? Yes, I love him, but the marriages that I’ve seen haven’t been good ones. I should focus on that, but it is difficult. Shaking my head, I go back to the celebration.
Laughs and drinks ensue, and eventually, Princess and Cruz leave, followed shortly by Casey and GT. There are a few ol’ ladies out on the dance floor but that is one place I really don’t care to be. Instead, I walk over to Tug and wrap my arms around his waist.
“I’m gonna head to the bathroom.” I drop a soft peck on his cheek, but he grabs my face. He pulls me to him, kissing me hard and hot. The brothers whoop and holler, but Tug doesn’t back away.
When he does, I’m a bit breathless. Regaining myself, I head to the bathroom and do my business. I’m stopped at the bar to order another beer when a hand grabs my ass. Tug. I smile and turn, then stop dead, beer in hand. My smile dies. It’s not Tug. This man is about my height with a swimmer’s body. He has a beard and mustache and is wearing a baseball cap.
“Hey, baby. How’s about I take you home and show you a good time?” The stench of booze from his breath permeates the air and I take a step back, my spine pressing up against the bar. What in the hell?
I look over the man’s shoulder. Tug is talking and not looking this way, but Dagger is staring right at us. I mouth, ‘help.’ He knocks Tug in the chest with a ‘what the fuck’ and points over to me. With my eyes, I plead with Tug. Since the kidnapping, I get really jumpy when men get this close and no one is around to run interference. Cali always has my back at X, and I’m comfortable with that, but this. No. I need to start taking self-defense classes. I hate feeling helpless. I never used to, but after those monsters recently tried to ship me overseas, I’m still pretty shaken.
The guy puts his grimy hands on my hips. “Back off. My man is on
his way over here.”
The drunk asshole smiles. “Yeah, right. All you bitches do is lie. I’ll show you what I do to lying bitches.” His tone turns hateful and my stomach plummets. I look over his shoulder again just as Tug barrels through to me. He’s been so protective and this is sure to send him over the edge, but no one would be able to stop him.
Tug grabs the back of the guy’s neck and throws him to the ground, the smile leaving the drunk asshole’s lips. “You got your fucking hands on my woman?” Tug lands a punishing kick to the guy’s ribs. “No one.” He kicks again. “Puts.” Kick. “A hand.” Kick. “On my.” Two kicks. “Girl.” He picks the guy up off the floor and begins to pummel his face. I move away quickly, straight over to the brothers who are now huddled around the fight. Dagger puts his arm around me. It’s not in a creepy-Dagger way, it’s in a comforting way. This side of him I like.
Punch after punch, kick after kick, and Tug doesn’t let up. The guy is bleeding all over the floor, but the fierce look in Tug’s eyes is telling me that he is not going to stop. Shit.
“Tug!” I yell, but he doesn’t respond.
“Tug! Stop!” I scream again to no avail. “Tug!” I grow frantic and Dagger releases me. He rushes up to Tug and places a hand on his shoulder. Tug’s head snaps to it.
“It’s done, son. You’ve made your point. Your girl needs you.” Tug’s eyes dart to mine and whatever he sees in them has him moving quickly my way.
“Are you okay?” He inspects my body from top to bottom.
“I’m fine. I promise.” I wrap him in my arms and squeeze him tight. His body trembles, no doubt from the anger still vibrating through him. His arms tighten around me and he kisses the top of my head. “Can we go?” I just want to go home. This was not how I wanted to spend my night.
“Sure, sweet lips.” He turns to the brothers, still in a circle around the guy. “I’m out,” he announces, and hands go up in silent goodbyes.
Tug’s strong arm comes around my shoulder as he leads me out of the bar. The hand by my neck is bleeding. Shit. I stop and grab his hands. His knuckles are fire red with tons of scrapes and cuts. Blood seeps out of them.
“I need to get you cleaned up.”
He gives my hand a squeeze. “When we get home. Let’s get the fuck out of here before I go back in there and kill that motherfucker.” I start at his words and walk quickly to his bike.
The ride home is fast and I do my best to inspect his hands during it. Not horrible, but not good either. I should have just kneed the guy in the balls and been done with it, but I’m not stupid. He would have beat the shit out of him regardless. No need for what ifs.
Entering the house, I tear into the bathroom for the first aid kit, finding it under the sink. I take it to the kitchen where Tug is washing his hands. “Here.” I give him a towel and he dries his hands. I open up the kit and grab one of his hands, pulling it to me.
“I’m fine, sweet lips.” He tries to pull away from me. Uh… no.
“Let me do this,” I bark, a little harsher than I intended, but it gets the point across and he relents. I clean out his wounds, adding ointment and bandages.
“Sweet lips,” he says but I keep my focus on putting the final touches on his hand. “Babe.” This time his tone is harder and I look up. “Really I’m fine. You don’t need to worry.”
“I always worry about you.” His eyes soften. He crashes my body into his hard one, leans down and takes my mouth.
“No one will ever touch you again, Blaze. You gotta know that. I won’t allow it.”
“I know,” I whisper softly.
We stand in the kitchen for a long while, just holding each other. This incident wasn’t bad, but my thoughts keep drifting to my past. I want to seal the door shut on it forever, but in these moments, it plagues me. I hate that.
I back away. “Are you hungry?”
“Sure, sweet lips.” His lips brush mine, and I exhale.
I make a quick dinner of chicken parmesan and we eat together. “I have a question for you,” Tug asks when my fork is just about to enter my mouth. I pull it away.
“What?”
“You do know that one day you are gonna marry me?” A hard lump forms in my throat and tears prick the back of my eyes. “Not yet, but soon, sweet lips.” My heart squeezes and I almost forgot there was a question in there as I take a bite of my food. “I want kids. What about you?” I choke on my spaghetti, chewing quickly, coughing, swallowing, and doing it all at once. I gasp for breath. Tug is right there and I wave him off. I’m fine. Just need a moment here.
After downing my food and taking a drink, I sit quietly. He doesn’t push, but the lines of his eyes show me his agitation. He wants kids. Shit. I don’t. I just don’t. How in the hell do I say that to the man I love? I… I shake my head trying to clear away the thoughts, but it doesn’t help.
“I don’t, Tug,” I say so softly, I hope he can’t hear me.
“You don’t want kids?” He sets his fork down, giving me his full attention. My nerves kick in. We’ve never had this conversation. Fuck. I don’t want to lose him. I begin to ache.
“No.” I pause then words fall. “I couldn’t live with myself if my children went through the same thing I did. I’ve always said that I’ll never have kids. I couldn’t handle it, Tug. I’d kill the son of a bitch myself. It’s just too hard.”
Tug drags my chair next to his and pulls me in his arms. “I understand, sweet lips. I do. But this is something that we need to work on, because I want kids, but I want them with you. And any sorry ass motherfucker touches my babies or you, well, you know what will happen. You don’t just have me at your back, you have a whole fucking club. You gotta remember that, babe.”
I know he’s right. I also know that any one of those men would do anything to protect what is theirs. I’ve seen it first-hand. It doesn’t stop the fear though. The fear of it happening to my baby.
“I love you, Tug, but I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready for kids. If this is a deal breaker, then we need to seriously talk about this.” The mood in the room changes to something so damn scary, tingles race up my spine. Shit.
“No fucking way, Blaze. You are mine. Forever. We will work on the kid thing. We have lots of time for that. I’m not saying I want to knock you up tonight or anything. But there is no deal to break. You are mine, end of story.” The finality in his tone rings loud and clear.
“I just don’t want you to get your heart set on it, and in five years, me not be able to give you what you need.” If he left me, I’d pick up the pieces, but it would kill me. It would eat me alive for the rest of my life.
“You’re not getting rid of me. Hear that right now. Whatever comes along, we will work it out.” A lump grows in the pit of my stomach. Great, one more thing for me to worry about. Like I don’t have enough as it is. Shit.
I just nod, get up, and clean the kitchen. As I’m standing at the sink washing, steel arms pull me away from the water. “Sweet lips, you need to relax. Neither one of us is going anywhere. I can see it in your face. You’re worried. Don’t be,” he says into my ear from behind.
“I’ll try.” I just want to be the woman he needs and if I can’t give him this… shit. He kisses my neck and releases me. I just keep cleaning.
Tug lies sprawled out on the couch, some show about storage containers blaring on the screen. I head to the bathroom. I check myself in the mirror, my face looks tired. The baby thing on top of the incident at the bar sucked something out of me.
Stop it. It’s Valentine’s Day and you need to suck it up, I berate my reflection. I apply makeup to cover the haunted look, fluff my hair, and sneak into the bedroom. I slip into a black corset with lace rimming the edges and leather strips down the sides. I add a black thong that really has nothing to it. It’s made of lace and totally see-through. It is definitely not intended for actual use. I skip the garters but slide into four-inch, red, snakeskin heels. I apply the same red color to my lips and go out in search
of my man.
It is Valentine’s Day, after all. May as well give him a private show. I saunter into the living room like I own it, which I do, but you get the point. I strut, grabbing the remote and turning the TV to a rock radio station. Music filters through the air and my man sits up on the couch, eyes burning.
“Hey, sweet lips.” He licks his lips and I roll my hips in tune with the music. I may not be stripping anymore, but that doesn’t mean I can’t do it for him. Using my heeled foot, I push the coffee table out of my way and slink right up to Tug. As I bend down, my boobs practically fall out of my top. I kiss him briefly and move away, turning around so he can see my ass.
I let loose, kicking, grinding, gyrating, and pumping, all to the music. Sweat coats my skin and it feels damn good. Walking up to Tug, I make sure one foot is directly in front of the other, my finger touching my bottom lip, looking as sultry and seductive as I can. “Sweet lips, you need to get your ass over here.”
I smirk and straddle his legs. Music continues to pour through me as I grind my hips around and around, his hard cock never losing touch with my core. Tug pulls my top down, grips my boobs hard then puts his mouth over one nipple. He sucks and sucks. I might come just from his sucking. Oh God.
My head falls back, my hair brushing the backs of my legs. Just a little more. I’m right there. Pop echoes through the room, my nipple instantly feeling cold.
“Up,” Tug demands. Reluctantly, I follow. He wastes no time ridding himself of his jeans, boots, and shirt. Damn he’s gorgeous. I’m not sure what the hell I did to deserve him, but I’ll do my damnedest to keep him. He falls back on the couch. “Get up here and ride me. Hard and fast.”
I slip my fingers in my thong to pull it down, but he stops me. “It stays on.” An evil smile crosses my face. Yummy. I straddle him and he pulls my thong to the side. No preparation, no gentleness. He plows into me, his piercing hitting every right spot inside my body. I scream loudly. I can’t help it. It feels so fucking good.