by Jaci J.
I've got to admit that I'm a little nervous about walking into that room. I’m not worried about the guys, really. It’s just been a long time, but I think I can handle them. I’m just not so sure what to expect from them anymore.
Dad told me to wait out here till he’s finished, and so here I am, leaning against the wall outside the chapel door. He insisted we drive in together so I'm stuck waiting. Looking down, I notice I really need to paint my nails. Picking at the chipped black polish, I continue to wait. Wait, and wait, and wait some more on my damn dad.
While I’m sitting here, I know all the nasty gash in the club are staring daggers at me. Their expressions are either ones of hate, suspicion, jealously, and maybe a little bit of fear thrown in. Big tits hanging out of their far too small tops, ass cheeks and vaginas peeking out from short skirts and shorts, all of the jean and leather variety. I swear they all shop at the Baby Gap for Whores. They all look like they have a weeks’ worth of makeup caked on their tired faces. Hair color coming from a box bought at the local Wal-Mart, desperately in need of touch ups. Tans obtained from a bed. Stripper heeled feet, clear and plastic. A classy bunch if I ever saw one.
One girl with blonde, over dyed hair sneers at me when I look over my shoulder. Slut. No Old Ladies around right now. The whore is probably wondering who I am and why I get to stand so close to the chapel doors. These stupid bitches are gonna learn real quick who the fuck I am. I smiled at them when I came in, but what I'd like to do is snatch their skank asses up by their hair and toss them out the door. But they serve their purpose as fun holes for the boys. They’re just dirty play things, I get it.
“Doll face?” I hear Dad’s deep voice yelling for me.
Stealing myself, I take a deep breath ‘cause it’s show time. Pushing the door open with my foot, I walk in with my head held high. If you don't hold yourself with respect, these motherfuckers sure as shit won't. Most of them know me, but it’s been eight long years not seeing any of them.
Walking over to my dad, I don't bother looking at the guys. He pulls me into him, kissing my forehead. No matter how old you are, the safest you'll ever be is in your Dad's arms. Turning me to the boys, I let them get a good look. Finally able to look out on the guys, I look at each and every one of them, sizing them up and giving them a smile. There are a few new faces, but one man catches my eye right away. He is so damn hot. All I see are bright blue eyes and sexy lips, but I don't let myself linger on him long. Can't get caught staring.
Looking away, I put my focus back on my dad. It's a quick introduction, then I'm sent packing with a body guard. It’s just my luck that I get beautiful blue eyes. I have a place in this club and it’s not in the chapel, so I leave without a word. I know better than to hang around. I’m a little curious as to why Dad would send me out with a member I don’t know. Why not Gin? Oh well, at least he's nice to look at.
He is a beast of a man. Dark hair cut short on the sides, a tad shaggy on top. Just enough hair to tug on. Sexy lips with a permanent “I’m an asshole” smirk, hard jaw in need of a good shave with dark stubble that looks a few days old. It's that yummy, sexy facial hair. You know, the oh so lickable kind? His permanently pissed off hard eyes are framed by dark lashes. Well over six feet tall. Large, strong body equipped with massive muscles, broad sturdy shoulders, thick arms, and long strong legs. A body made for rough sex and dirty fighting. Dusty skin, tattoos covering one arm, and a few on his neck with the possibility of a few hidden ones under all that biker gear.
As soon as we walk outside, he puts on a hat. It's a nice addition. Backwards black fitted cap, work CAT boots, jeans, dirty ass gray shirt, and his black leather cut. Fully patched and rocking his, our, three-piece colors on his back. Everything a biker should be. But it's his eyes, crystal blue. Beautiful.
The truck ride was fun to say the least. Little talk, and a whole lot of sideway glances. Big, bad ass biker isn't one for meaningful conversations. Who would of thought it?
Pulling up in front of Dad's place, I hop out before the trucks in park. No need for anymore awkward conversation. I'm not the hanging around type, I just need a shower and some food. My moods a little scattered and a headache is starting to nag at me.
“I'll be here,” Tank grunts. This is nothing new. When shit's going down, all women are always escorted. Following me to the door, he stops as soon as I'm safely inside and settles his big body into a rocking chair on the porch till he gets comfortable. I see the knife at his side and a gun in the waist of his jeans. I can't imagine how sitting is comfortable, but whatever. Nodding my okay I head in, straight to the shower and stripping down on my way.
I let the warm water wash over me, and I can't help but think about big and bulky on my porch. Goddamn he is sexy. All large and scary with trouble written all over in that smirk of his. I remind myself that this is not why I'm here, but hell, if a little rough fun doesn't sound exciting. It's been too damn long.
I finish up, turn off the shower and towel off. Then I get into some comfy clothes and throw my hair in a wet messy bun on top of my head. I have my big black and white checkered thermal button up on, hanging to mid-thigh. It was my high school boyfriend's, before he fucked up and got himself killed. It's worn, comfortable and one of the few things I have left of him. He turned his back on the club and in turn, turned his back on me. He had no loyalty, so they took care of him. I'm not bitter about it, even though it’s the reason I felt I had to leave. It happened, he knew what would happen, and he didn’t care. I’m not even heartbroken over it anymore. Sometimes it's a sad memory I dredge up from time to time. I guess I'm more careful now than anything about life and what kind of man I will let in after him…someday. That was a hard lesson learned; Be careful who you fall in love with and give your trust to. He's dead and I've moved on, but that's a whole can of worms I do not want to open. He died taking a part of my heart right along with him. Asshole.
The smell of fire roasted tomatoes, cheese and herbs greet me in the kitchen. Before going to the club with my dad, I started dinner. Taking it out of the oven I notice it's really coming down outside now. Rain is pounding on the house with the telling of an angry summer storm rolling in. Glancing through the window I can see big and beefy in the rocking chair looking bored as hell, cleaning his nails with his buck knife, his face blank and bored. He can't be dry out there either.
Why do I do this? They're not all lost broken puppies.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I'm at the back door.
“Hey, you hungry?” I ask him, leaning against the door frame. “I Made a big pan of lasagna that I might as well share. Dad and I can't eat the whole thing alone, anyways.”
His head jerks up and his eyes pop up to me in surprise. For a second he just looks at me, not saying anything, then his eyes leisurely travel from my head to my toes. What the hell? A big smile breaks over his face after a second.
Nodding, he pushes himself off of the chair, muscles pulling and straining at his movements. Well damn.
“You sure?” he mutters before he comes in. Jesus Christ, these damn rules.
“You hungry or not?” I retort over my shoulder, walking back inside. The door clicking closed gives me my answer. He's hungry.
Walking around the kitchen, I’m putting the finishing touches on dinner, plating the food, and cleaning up as I go and the whole time I can feel his eyes on me. He’s watching every move I make so intently that he’s damn near staring holes through me.
“You gonna put more clothes on than that?” he finally asks me. His rough deep voice catches me off guard. It’s just so deep and gruff.
Standing at the sink I look over my shoulder at him. “If I do, you gonna stop staring at me?” I retort smartly, lifting an inquiring brow at him. Tank snorts a laugh, clearly amused at my question.
“No, probably not.” Well at least he's honest.
Setting a big plate of lasagna, bread, and salad on the breakfast bar for him, I look him in the eyes. Leaning into the kitchen islan
d I smile sweetly and say, “then no. I like being comfortable and this,” I tell him waving a hand at my shirt, “is comfortable.” Shaking his head he rolls his eyes.
“God forbid you not be comfortable babe.” My turn to roll my eyes.
Ignoring him, I sit myself across from him with my own plate and we begin to eat in silence. Smiling at me he digs in. That's a heartbreaking smile right there, dimples and all. It’s a girls dropping to their knees with a smile, and he’s too good looking for his own good. Shaking my head, I dig in too. Yep, too damn good looking.
“Fuckin' hell women, you a chef or somethin'?” he mumbles around a mouth full of food a few moments later. Lovely manners.
“A chef? Not even close. Try a College Professor.” I mutter dryly. Well, a College Professor to be if I didn't come home. His eyes pull up to mine, damn near choking on his food. He looks a little confused.
“No shit?” He sounds doubtful. Figured this would illicit that type of reaction.
I just smile and nod at him. I wonder if he even knows anything about college. He’s probably never set foot anywhere near one. Yeah, it's doubtful, but I refrain from making a snarky remark.
“You're a teacher?” he asks me again, face still full of doubt.
“Where do you think I've been the last eight years?” I counter quickly.
Shrugging he mumbles, “Not a clue.” Then he goes about eating again, thoughtfully chewing his food and keeps his eyes on his plate for a while.
We eat in silence for a few more minutes. Every so often he looks over at me, smiling. Clearing his plate, setting his fork down, he turns towards me.
“Like lectures, paper gradin', and assignments? You really teach college classes and shit,” he asks me. Cowboy knows his shit. Had him pegged for a complete idiot. Beauty and brains, who would have thought?
“I'm workin' on it.” He looks truly shocked. That makes me laugh. Do I really look that different? Didn't know teachers looked a certain way. He looks interested, which is a surprise.
“How long did that take?” he asks me sounding truly interested. A long, long time.
“About seven years give or take.” Smiling he nods. He asks me questions and keeps me company while I clean up around the kitchen. He’s definitely not the worst dinner date.
3
Tank
Watching her walk around the kitchen making Low a plate and cleaning up, I can't help but feel a little fucking stumped, not to mention hard. Biker brat is a Goddamn Professor.
I've heard some crazy shit in my time and this one is something for the books. All I can picture is her in some plaid skirt, her ass hanging out, white button up shirt with a few buttons left open, thigh high stockings, glasses on, and a ruler in her hand. Fucking her on a desk also comes to mind. Fuck. Maybe even smacking that ass with said ruler.
I’ve got to stop ‘cause I’m only making myself harder. I can't stop watching her. She just draws me right in, holding my attention, which isn’t easy. A bitch holding my attention is worth talking to. She looks nothing like I pictured. Brothers talked about how hot she was, but they didn't do her justice. Motherfuckers were holding out on me.
Bending down, she slides the leftover food into the fridge and I’m watching that sexy fucking thermal riding up her legs. Let me tell you, that kind of shirt has never looked sexier. Shit. It’s showing just the slightest bit of ass with black lace panties peeking out from under the hem of the shirt ... But that's not the killer. It's the Goddamn tattoo that's got me adjusting myself in my jeans. It’s some sort of scrawl about three inches from her ass, right across her fucking leg. It's taking a lot of strength not to jump over this fuckin’ counter and put my hands all over that body.
As my will starts to wane, the screen door slams into the house cutting my plans short.
“Lil, baby,” Low booms from the door, shooting me a curt nod as he walks in, then his eyes go to his daughter. Emptying his pockets, he sets down his guns, knife, and wallet on the counter.
A few seconds later, in waddles Tiny. He got his name from some sad joke. Poor guy.
“Daddy,” Lil drawls.
Spinning around, she shrieks in excitement as soon as she sees Tiny's ugly ass mug. Knocking a stool over as she goes. She jumps right into Tiny's big ass arms.
“Tiny,” she sighs. He has a big ass grin on his fat face. Running his hand down the back of her head, my hands start twitching for a whole other reason.
“Baby girl” he coos adoringly at her. Jesus Christ, he's putty in her hands and his eyes are soft and smiling while he holds her. He's got to be pushing fifty, it's fucking strange and wrong. My dirty mind starts playing out all sorts of scenarios and none of which end well for Tiny. He's my brother, but right now I’m willing to put a bullet in his fucking skull.
“Uncle Tiny I missed you,” she whines. Uncle? Lord. I’m thinking of killing him? What the fuck is wrong with me?
Releasing Lil, he comes up behind me, slapping my shoulder.
“Keepin' watch, yeah?” he snorts in disbelief. Shaking him off, I ignore him. He thinks I'm here trying to get some pussy, huh? If I wanted it, I'd get it. I never have to try; Never in my life have I had to work for pussy and I’m not starting now.
No longer needed here, I slide off the stool and make my way towards the door. My babysitting duties are done for the night. Lil's head snaps towards me as I walk to the door and watches me for a moment, not saying anything while Low looks between her and I for a second before standing up and turning to me.
“Thanks brother for keepin' an eye out for my girl. Barbecue tomorrow, yeah? Bringin' the bitch?” he asks.
I know what he's doing and he’s a smart man, trying to keep me away from his daughter. I don't blame him. If it weren't for him showing up, I’d have her bent over the kitchen island with those pretty lace panties of hers around her ankles and my dick buried deep inside her.
Now I got this fucking barbecue and shit tomorrow. Not only did I forget, I also forgot that Goddamn bitch is coming. Fuck me.
“Yep,” I clip, nodding stiffly at Low. “Thanks for the food Lil,” I tell her smiling weakly.
Nodding my good byes to Low and Tiny, I beat feet. No need to hang around. Looking back at Lil for a second she looks a little lost. Blinking those doe eyes for a moment, she fixes that shit. She nods one time before turning away from me. I’m fucked … completely fucked.
************
Standing outside the club with Gin, Stitch, and Leo, we're loading up some old bikes and shit to be scrapped when out of nowhere, we see this jacked-up black Rubicon fly into the club lot.
“What the fuck?”
Reaching for my gun, Leo notices and shakes his head once with a hard look. Who the hell is this motherfucker? Assholes know better than to speed in the clubs lot.
Gin just chuckles. The driver’s door kicks open and out hops a little ass Lil, followed by Happy on the passenger side. He walks over and kisses her head as he walks into the shop. I can’t stop my jaw from clenching up. Watching him kiss her pisses me the fuck off.
She’s sporting jean shorts today, giving me a good view of those legs, a tiny fucking black tank top that shows off her flat stomach, and no shoes. Her hair is loose and hanging down her back, looking a little wild. She looks more beautiful today than she did yesterday if that shit’s even possible. I am so fucking screwed with this one. Spotting us, she takes off right for Gin.
“Caleb!” she squeals with excitement and jumps up into his arms. “God I missed you brother. Thought you were comin' by last night?” she grumbles into his neck.
Hugging her back he sets her on her bare feet. “Got caught up. Come by tonight, yeah?”
Cocking her head, pursing those lovely lips, and her hands on her hips she looks like she's thinking about it. Gin just rolls his eyes at her clearly not buying her shit. “Comin' over whether ya like it or not now, ya little shit.”
Laughing, she smiles at him.
“Aye, what 'bout me?” Stitch
pipes up. Fuck, she's got him all whiney and shit too. Swinging around, she smiles sweetly at Stitch now. Looking at her impatiently, he throws his arms open, “well girl?”
Wrapping her arms around his middle she hugs him. “Yeah, you too,” she whispers softly. He kisses the top of her head and he smiles.
Next she's on to Leo, kissing his cheek. “Hey old man!” She giggles.
Best fucking sound I've ever heard. I could listen to that sound forever. Jesus Christ, he looks like he's blushing.
“Glad your back gorgeous.” What the fuck is happening? Are these not the same three guys who were just talking about killing some dude in County?
Before I know what's going on, she's on me next. She rests her hand on my arm and gives me a huge smile. Her body is so close I can almost feel her. What the hell is going on with me? All of sudden I feel calm at her touch, an immediate sense of tranquility hits me. Her touch has me feeling settled.
“Hey Tank!” She beams up at me with that bright ass fuckin’ smile. She has these big deep brown eyes you could get lost in. Shit. I’m so caught off guard that I just stare at her like a fucking idiot. My mouth is opening, but nothing’s coming out.
“You come with the guys if ya want too, okay?” Waiting for a response, she lifts a brow at me. She’s an impatient little thing.
“Yeah,” I mumble stupidly. It's all I can come up with. Her eyes shining, she nods once and with a little squeeze, she lets me go.
Turning those big brown eyes back on Gin she asks, “Inside?”
Throwing a thumb back towards the club he nods and mumbles, “She fuckin' missed you.”
With a sad smile she mutters, “me too.”
That's when I hear it, a loud ass bang from the club door and a girly ass squeal.
“Oh my gawd!”
Spinning on her heals, Lil's face lights up, her smile hitting me in that dead lump of meat in my chest.
“Bitch!” she shrieks in excitement. So off they go, right at each other.
“Girl I've missed you.” With their arms around each other, they stumble into the club chattering, giggling, and talking loudly. The door closes behind them and cuts off the loud ass girly noises, leaving silence in their wake.