“I’ve got…” But Mom’s offer goes unheard as Connor has already stepped out.
Ink raises an eyebrow at my mother. “You okay with him getting his stuff? Trust him not to rob you of the family silver?”
Mom gives a small smile. “After raising two giants, there’s not much of that left. But yes, if there was anything to steal I trust him that far, and there’s not much in his room, anyway. Just some old computer games, and an out-of-date Xbox, not much more than that.”
“Everything’s old,” I mumble, wondering what Connor wants with his defunct things.
“He might be able to sell it,” Ink suggests.
A stomping of feet tells us Connor’s reappeared. He comes back in a few moments later, this time carrying a full box. As I expected, he’s got the console and games, but it doesn’t appear he’s bothered to pack his clothes or anything else.
With a rueful look down at the pitiful contents, he approaches my mom. His voice sounds a lot calmer. “Patsy, I’m sorry. Look, I know how you feel about Phil, but, I, well, I can’t say more, but I don’t want to leave with bad blood between us.”
“Then don’t leave. Don’t go back to him. Stay here with us.”
A flicker of something crosses my brother’s face, so quickly I could have imagined it, then his features become hard again. “Can’t do that, Patsy. I work for him, remember?”
“Your room will always be here,” Mom says, but qualifies, “if you put space between you and that man. But not if he’s still in the picture. I’m not risking that.”
“Fuck it, woman,” Connor starts, getting angry again.
“I don’t think you’re welcome here.” Ink steps forward, not letting him finish.
“Beth’s man is right,” Mom says.
“Beth’s man?” Connor almost squeals as he looks at me in surprise.
I’m taken aback by Mom’s description myself and think I’ll have to have an explanation for her incorrect assumption ready later. Ink’s probably wondering what the hell I’ve told her about us.
But Ink surprises me. “Fuckin’ right I’m her man. Beth and your mom are under the protection of the Satan’s Devils and you better not fuckin’ forget that.”
As he says that he turns and comes over to me, and my brother must get his first proper look at Ink’s colours on the back of his cut. His eyes open wide. “Fuck it, Beth. Thought you’d have more fucking sense than hooking up with a Satan’s Devil.” He turns back to my mom. “They’re criminals, Mom. You best put a stop to this right now.”
Mom takes a step closer to him and leans back her head so she can stare into his face. “More than one thing wrong with that statement, Son. First off, pot, kettle, and black comes to my mind. Second, Beth’s a grown woman and can do what she wants. She says the Devils are okay? Then it’s her word I’ll be taking.”
Ink’s clearly had enough. “Come on, asshole. Think it’s time we get to see the dust from your tyres.” He pushes Connor hard.
My brother takes the hint. He swings to face the door, then he turns back. “Mom, Beth… Look, I don’t want to leave like this. Like I said, I’ll be doing some work here from time to time, I’ll pop in when I’m passing. Maybe next weekend?”
“That okay with you, Patsy?” Ink checks. He doesn’t seem to have taken to my brother at all.
Mom closes her eyes then reopens them. “He’s my son,” she tells Ink. “I don’t mind seeing him, I’m just not letting him bring trouble to my door.”
Ink nods. When Connor leaves, he follows him out.
Quickly I move forward and put my arms around my mom.
“I’m sorry,” she starts. “What a way to welcome your man.”
“I suspect Ink’s seen worse,” I reply, drily.
I hear the sound of a car starting, then wheels squeal as it peels out of the driveway.
Ink comes back through the door that’s still open, brushing his hands together as though removing dirt from them. He eyes me holding Mom. She barely reaches my chest so it looks like our positions are reversed, with me taking the parent’s role. “You want me to leave you two alone?”
“No,” Mom says, determinedly. “I’m sorry you were a witness to a family fight. I’m sorry you had to walk in on that. But please, stay. That’s if you still want to.”
Ink considers for a moment, then his lips curve up in a smile. “A bit of friction isn’t going to chase me off.”
“Jeez, I’m forgetting my manners.” Mom moves her head side to side. “I’m Patsy, Beth’s mom. And you must be Ink.”
“I kinda guessed that, though I imagined someone a lot taller.” Ink grins. “And yeah, I’m Beth’s man.” He winks at me, letting me know he has no objection to the label.
“Thank you.” Mom waves her hand toward the front of the house. “My son—”
“You don’t have to explain anything. Got a lot of brothers who come from fucked up homes. We can’t choose our blood family.” He pauses. “Makes a fuckin’ difference when you can choose the one you want.”
“Like you’ve chosen your club,” I interpret.
“Too fuckin’ right I have.” Breaking off, he looks first toward me, then toward Mom. “Might need to know a few more details, but you’ll have the club behind you if he or his father cause you any problems. Here’s the thing, Beth is Mel’s friend, and Mel’s a claimed woman. I’m… with… Beth for now. Club will help if it’s necessary.”
“Already knew you were going to be a good’un, Ink. My Beth doesn’t read people wrong, and you’ve proved it this afternoon. I’ll go rescue the roast, then I’ll satisfy your curiosity while we’re eating.”
I send an apologetic look Ink’s way. “I’ll help, Mom.”
Ink looks around, seeing the bare dining room table asks, “Tell me where you keep the silverware and I’ll set the table if you want?”
Luckily Mom had turned down the oven during the argument, so dinner is soon saved and back on track. Shortly, she’s putting everything on serving plates and Ink’s carrying them to the table. After we sit down, we take a moment sorting our plates out, then a minute longer to appreciate the food Mom has lovingly prepared.
“You see much of your son, Patsy?” Ink asks at last.
“No.” Her brow creases with the pain I know doesn’t lessen. “Six years ago, he discovered his father. Didn’t care he’d neglected him for most of his life, hit it off apparently. Left home as soon as he turned eighteen and lives with him now in Denver. He’s only been back a few times, full of his father’s praise.”
“Which you aren’t buying,” Ink observes.
“Which I’m not buying,” Mom agrees. “Know it makes me sound like a bitch, but I kicked his dad’s ass to the kerb when I found out just what he was into.”
“Which was?”
“This and that and anything else that brought the dollars in without him doing an honest day’s work. Money laundering was what I caught him doing, but there’s probably worse.”
“You kept him away from his children?”
“Huh,” she scoffs. “He didn’t have much to do with them when he was here. I’d have let them stay in contact, he’s blood after all, but he didn’t make any effort.”
Ink’s eyes meet mine and soften. I shake my head slightly, any abandonment I’d ever felt was long gone now. Lucky escape was how I saw it instead. I wouldn’t want to be involved in criminal activity, not in the way I’m convinced Connor is. Sure, that’s why I’m dating a biker, I grin to myself, then I roll my eyes, and pull myself up. We’re not dating. I don’t know what would describe it, but it’s not that.
“What’s your ex’s name?” Ink asks Mom, deceptively casually.
“Phil Foster,” she supplies.
Ink’s eyes close briefly, then his head moves side to side. “Can’t say I’ve heard of him.”
“He relocated to Denver years back,” I explain. “And Connor didn’t sound like he was a fan of the Satan’s Devils.”
“He certainly kn
ew our reputation,” Ink notes. “Though perhaps more from the old days. Phil ever live in Pueblo?”
“Until he moved out, yes. He left, what, eighteen years ago now? Connor would have been four.”
“You get your height from him?”
Ink has addressed his question to me, but it’s Mom who laughs and replies, “No, Phil’s not much taller than me. It must have come down from my side, a recessive gene or something. Beth’s maternal cousins are all over six feet tall. I used to wonder whether Beth would ever stop growing, and Connor turned out the same.” She pauses, and a glint comes into her eyes. The glint that makes me swallow rapidly. “You’re not on the short side yourself, Ink.”
“No, ma’am, I am not.”
Mom’s not finished. “I always wondered whether Beth would find a man big enough for her.” There’s a twinkle in her eyes that shows she’s well aware of how her comment could be misinterpreted.
I take it the safest way it could be meant, and say airily, “Oh, his club’s full of tall, single men, Mom. I’ve started with Ink, but I’ll be working through them all in time.”
Ink makes a noise that sounds like he’s choking, then turns to me with steel in his eyes, to find me winking. Mom’s bent over the table wiping tears of laughter from her cheeks.
Leaning closer so only I can hear him, he whispers, “You’ve earned yourself another punishment with that quip, little girl. One for each of my single fuckin’ brothers.”
Whispering back, I ask, “Er, how many are there?”
His eyes close as though he’s thinking, then he gives me his reply, “Eight.” He raises his eyebrows.
I grin and give an uncaring shrug. Sounds like I’ve been there before. And though it had surprised me, it hadn’t been punishment at all.
Ink’s still staring at me intently. The next thing he says sotto voce is a complete surprise. “I hope you’ve chosen wisely, little girl, as mine is the only biker cock you’re going to be riding. You won’t be fuckin’ any of my brothers. You understand?”
I gulp, not completely comprehending. Not that I like any of them more than him, but is he saying once we’re over, I’m out of the club, or, is he suggesting, we won’t come to an end? I don’t ask for clarification, uncertain he’ll provide an answer I want to hear.
“Who wants dessert?” Mom asks cheerily, completely oblivious to our quietly spoken and entirely, seated as we are around the dining table, inappropriate conversation.
“I could manage dessert.” But Ink’s eyes are focused on me, and somehow, I doubt it’s my mom’s apple pie he’s contemplating.
Chapter Eleven
Ink
Beth’s mom is a hoot, coming out with inappropriate shit which makes me laugh. I’m enjoying myself being here with the two women, something I’d never have predicted. Rather than wishing I was back at the clubhouse playing pool, I’m perfectly content right where I’ve found myself.
I settle into their home, fast feeling nothing like a visitor. Patsy suggests we watch a movie, and with my feet up on the coffee table—which apparently isn’t a sin in this house—and a beer in my hand I’m quite agreeable. Though my face falls when they put something called Love Actually on, but it turns out to be hilarious and I’m doubled up half the time.
The character who visits the United States reminds me of when our chapter went to help Tucson out of some trouble they were in, and I met Wraith, the VP’s wife, Sophie. Part of me had wondered whether he’d married her just to hear her accent every day and those quaint UK English terms. I chuckle as there’s one in particular I remember.
“What?”
I enlighten Beth on what’s amused me. “The VP’s ol’ lady in the Tucson chapter is from England. She comes out with some shit. Calls Wraith a wanker when he’s done something foolish and when something’s good it’s apparently the dog’s bollocks.”
After laughing in disbelief, Patsy asks, interested, “You’ve got other chapters then, Ink?”
Half watching the film which they’ve clearly seen before, I run through our other chapters. That starts a discussion of the history of the Satan’s Devils. Then we get onto hobbies. I don’t have time for many other than the things I do with the club, so I describe how I love just taking off on my bike. Patsy proudly tells me what I already know, that Beth runs half-marathons. Gets placed regularly too.
A grin slides onto my face, and my eyes sneak down to her legs, relishing how they feel around me.
But I’m interested enough to ask for more information.
Beth replies, “A half-marathon is thirteen miles give or take. I can do that between two and two-and-a-half hours. Want to join me sometime?”
I work out, but I prefer muscle building. I’m not even certain I could walk thirteen miles without my feet blistering. “Tell you what,” I wink, “I’ll ride along behind you.”
A gentle snore from the armchair shows even in my stimulating company, Patsy has fallen asleep. Beth and I exchange smiles, and I take it as my cue to leave. Especially when I see Beth try to hide a yawn.
While I’d love to spend a few hours with my cock buried deep inside her, I have too much respect for Patsy to subject her to hearing me fuck her daughter in her house. As for my earlier idea to take Beth back to the club, time’s gotten away from me, and I know she has work tomorrow. For the first time that I can remember since I was in my mid-teens, I prepare to take my leave of a woman without my dick getting any satisfaction.
Beth sees me to the door, and stands there, hesitantly. When neither of us move, she says a goodbye and turns to go back inside.
It’s then I strike. I curl my hand out and grasp her shoulder, swinging her back around to face me, then pull her tight against my chest and bring my mouth to meet hers. It seems lazy, I don’t need to bend, just reach forward and she’s there. For some reason, I find that her body parts mirroring mine as they rest against them, immensely satisfying. We stand, kissing, the only movement being lips against lips and tongues against tongues, our pelvises pressed together, but both keeping still, as if each of us knows a little thrust here or a swerve of the hips there would drive both of us crazy.
Her taste is like summer, her perfume as intoxicating as any drug I’ve ever imbibed. Her touch, firm, demanding, her little moans showing her frustrated desire clearly matches my own. She’s beautiful, with brilliant blue eyes which sparkle in the light of the porch lamp overhead.
When at last we part, I lower my forehead so it rests against hers and run my hand through the loose strands of her hair. “Is it always blue?”
She laughs, the sound like a stream’s burble, happy and bright. “Nope. I go through the full range. Had this done to match my bridesmaid’s dress. May go purple or pink next time. Or even multi-coloured like a rainbow.”
“They can do that?” My eyes open wide.
“With a lot of time and money,” she informs me. I tilt my head to one side and half close my eyes trying to imagine it. Sounds like it could be a good investment.
The possible reason why she alters her appearance comes to me. “Do you colour your hair to give people something to focus on?”
“Other than my height.” Her eyes narrow. “Yes. It’s easier to deal with a ‘oh your hair is blue’ than a ‘just look at the size of you.’”
Because one she can alter, and one she’s stuck with.
“You are absolutely fuckin’ perfect.” I swallow hard and reach out my palm to place it against her face. “There’s no one else like you, Beth. Or no one I’ve ever met. I like what’s inside of you here,” I drop my hand so it rests over her heart, “and I love the package it’s in. I wouldn’t change anything about you. Nothing at fuckin’ all.”
She literally shrugs off what to me was a compliment. I suppose up to now I haven’t done anything to make her believe she’s special to me, but she is. I want to explain, but where do I start? I’ve no experience to draw on.
“I fuck, Beth, I told you that. I don’t go to a girl’s house, meet
her mom, watch a god-awful film that actually turned out to be quite good. I don’t leave without getting my dick wet. Never done anything like this before, let alone fuckin’ enjoyed it.”
I can see she doesn’t know what to make of what I’ve told her. Truth is, I don’t know myself. There’s a notion growing inside me that I’d like to replace the seat on my bike, get one with a pillion pad and sissy bar. Have her riding up behind me? Heading out just the two of us and the open road? Put up with the shit I’ll get from my brothers?
Well, fuck me, but I think she’s worth everything they’d throw at me. I think of what we’ve got in stock at the shop, sure I can find something and make it work. Payback’s a bitch, as I expect I’ll find out. Pyro and Mace will find me fitting a double seat too big a chance to pass up. For her though, I’ll do it.
“Want to go for a ride with me next weekend, babe?”
She looks confused, and I realise maybe Mel has told her of the significance of a woman riding two up on a bike. “What? Where?”
“A ride. You and me. If the weather allows that is. And wherever we want.”
She looks down, and I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut. “You don’t want to go on my bike? I’m a safe rider, Beth.”
“It’s not that. Don’t laugh, but I’ve always wanted to ride one myself.”
What? I frown, then feel my lips start to curve as I wonder why the fuck not? She’s tall enough to be able to handle anything. “Well what’s stopping you? How about I teach you?”
You’d think I’d offered to buy her the fucking world. She starts jumping on the spot. “Really? When? Wouldn’t I need to buy one first? Where do I start—”
“Whoa, hold up. One of the prospects has got a Sportster, that’s a good learner bike that you’d be able to handle alright. I’ll get him to let you ride it to see how you get on. And next weekend, if you want.”
“Ink I… I really like you.” She leaps forward and into my arms. Caught off guard, I stagger back laughing as I catch her.
Ink's Devil: Satan's Devils MC Colorado Chapter #5 Page 10