by E J Frost
I wrap my arms around his neck. “Yes, Sir. And I’ll do it again if you don’t admit Bebe J’s pancakes are the best in the world.” I pinch his ear. “Say it, Sir. I need your submission.”
Mac chuckles. “Bebe J’s pancakes are definitely the best in the world.”
I run my hand down the side of his face and cup his cheek. The strain’s beginning to ease around his eyes and mouth.
“She asked me about my collar. She’s questioning what Amy’s told her about your relationship and she’s been educating herself about kink. She believes you, Sir.”
Mac’s eyebrows shoot up. “She does? She never said a thing to me. Never asked me any questions.”
“I think she’s trying to figure it out herself.”
Mac slides his arm under my shoulders, settling into me. “Thank you for talking to her about it.”
“You don’t want to know what I said?”
“No, I trust you, girl.”
It’s my turn to swallow hard. “You need to stop saying that, Sir. It makes me all teary and emotional.”
“Then I’ll have to say it a lot.” He leans in to rub his nose against mine. “You should be reminded every day of how special you are, how much faith your Sir has in you, and how proud it makes me each and every time you submit to me.”
I can’t help it. A tear spills. Mac thumbs it away.
“You’re not supposed to say nice things about me when I’m emotionally vulnerable. It’s a rule.”
“Not in any contract I’ll ever sign. Saying nice things to you is the second-best part of my job.”
I sniff and get control of myself. “What’s the best?”
“Fucking that ass.”
I batter his shoulder. “Sir!”
He laughs, a real belly laugh, and it fills me with warmth to hear that sound out of him after the morning he’s had.
“In fact, I need some of that now. Turn over. I haven’t had my daily anal yet.”
Laughing, I do, and he gets his daily anal.
*****
I’ll say this for the bikers, they know how to party.
They hold the barbeque at what they call their clubhouse, which is as different from the Rolling Blue clubhouse as that was from Blunts. This looks like an older, more run-down version of the motel we finally left a few hours ago, which wasn’t exactly five stars, either. I think I still have splinters in my back from the door. And the shower ran out of hot water while Mac and I were still in it, although in fairness, we’d been in for quite some time. Mac can just go and go and go when he’s already had a couple of orgasms. I swear I’m going to sneak “too much stamina for a geezer” into his tattoos somehow if he doesn’t give my holes a break.
What was probably once a bar and function room for the motel is now the main area of the bikers’ clubhouse, with a double row of rooms stretching back towards an empty, covered pool. After nine o’clock, the families clear out, the tables and benches get pushed back, and the tequila comes out. Napa’s wife, Tiana, leads the old ladies in a conga line around the bar, doing a shot every time they pass. Wreck keeps the line of shot glasses full and they do a dozen shots in as many minutes. I think it’s a cute blonde girl who falls first, but pretty soon there’s a pile of old ladies giggling on the floor.
Tiana throws herself down on a bench next to me in a cloud of tequila fumes. “Why aren’t you drinkin’?”
Because Mac’s promised me another anal orgasm tonight before bed if I’m sober and even though I could barely sit down before he put the damn plug in, I’ve become so addicted to the way he fucks me that I’ll even sacrifice tequila. But I’m not saying any of that to Tiana. Then I wonder why I’m censoring myself. Although I liked the old ladies I met at the New Jersey MC, I didn’t click with any of them immediately. I already know Tiana could be a close friend.
“Mac’s letting me have an anal orgasm if I’m still sober by bedtime.”
Tiana laughs, white teeth flashing between her dark red lips. I can’t carry off that color. It makes me look jaundiced. Otherwise, I fit in pretty well with the old ladies, who are wearing a lot of leather and sprayed-on denim. Several of them have on knotted or cropped T-shirts with the logo “Oidhri Ladies Auxiliary” over a green trinity knot, which I gather is the club’s symbol, since I’ve seen it on everything from the huge flag over the bar to the bikers’ leather vests. The trinity knot reminds me of a triskelion, which is one of my favorite symbols. I’m angling for one of those shirts pronto if Mac joins this club.
Things seem to be going well on that front. Napa and Wreck greeted Mac like an old friend when we arrived, and they’ve been introducing him to all of the other bikers. They’re outside now, sitting around the pool, smoking cigars while the old ladies get hammered.
Tiana pushes the beer she brought over from the bar to the middle of the table and grins. “Is sober just booze or is it weed, too?”
Mac didn’t say anything about weed. But I’m not sure how he’ll feel about it given Naomi’s addiction.
“You have weed?” I ask.
Tiana laughs again and it’s a friendly laugh. “Honey, we run a dispensary. Anything you want, we have it. What’s your poison?”
“Edibles, but, and I can’t believe I’m saying this, I have to ask Mac first.”
“Oh, honey, you have it bad.”
“You can talk,” I respond. Until the guys went out to smoke, she’d spent the whole night draped over Napa like a scarf.
She grins. “Disgusting, isn’t it? Our fifth anniversary is next month but I still feel like a newlywed.”
It’s anything but disgusting. It’s . . . heart-warming. When did I become such a melt? I blame Emily.
“How’d you meet?” I ask.
“Oh, I’ve known him forever. His folks live down the street from mine. He was the bad boy who drove up on a motorcycle to Thanksgiving dinner. He had every girl in the neighborhood throwing her damn panties at him. Still does, come to that.”
“I had no idea what an aphrodisiac a motorcycle is until Mac took me riding. It’s a giant vibrator, isn’t it?”
“Absolutely.”
The drunk blonde girl weaves around where we’re sitting and flops onto Tiana’s lap. “I’m drunk,” she announces.
“You sure are.” Tiana laughs and pushes her off into the arms of two of the other old ladies. She shakes her head as the group begins dancing. “They are gonna suffer tomorrow.”
“You guys party hard for a Sunday night.”
“Most of our businesses are closed on Mondays. Makes up for being open on the weekends. So, are we doing those edibles or what?”
“We are,” I say with determination. Tiana links arms with me, pulls me up out of the chair, and weaves with me around clots of dancing women, out the back door, to where the men have gathered in a heavy cloud of blue smoke.
As soon as I’m within reach, Mac pulls me onto his lap. Since he’s sitting next to Napa, Tiana doesn’t even free her arm from mine as she lands across Napa’s thighs.
“We want edibles!” she announces.
Napa chuckles.
I lean in to whisper into Mac’s ear. “Sir, I haven’t had anything to drink so I could be sober for later, but could I have one edible? My tolerance is high; one won’t make me stoned.”
Mac turns his head. His mouth catches mine and he exhales cigar smoke into my mouth. I huff it out my nose to keep from choking and Mac chuckles.
“You look like Puff the Magic Dragon. Now tell me about this edible. What’s in it?”
“Weed, Sir.”
“Indica,” Tiana says merrily.
“That’ll probably make me mellow, Sir.”
“Would you like that, girl?”
I don’t mind being the only sober person at the party, or the only sober person at the party beside Mac, who has been on water all night, but I could definitely use something to mellow me out after today.
“Please, Sir.”
“I’ve never tried weed. Think I m
ight enjoy some?”
“Never, ever? But, Sir, it’s legal now.”
Mac snorts. “Tell that to the Navy.”
“I have something perfect for a bud virgin!” Tiana crows, eavesdropping shamelessly. “It’ll give you such a nice ride.”
Mac tips his head at me in an unspoken question and I nod.
“Okay, you have permission, girl, and I’ll give it a try.” He runs his lips over my cheek and whispers in my ear. “Then I’ll give you a nice ride.”
A shiver shoots straight down my spine to my plugged ass. His stamina is terrifying without leaf. I’m not sure my ass will survive stoned Mac.
Tiana runs back inside, both surprisingly steady and surprisingly nimble on her heels, given how much tequila she’s had. Mac keeps me on his lap while he continues his conversation with the bikers. They jump from sports to talk about their bikes to arranging a dungeon weekend. I let their conversation wash over me and don’t try to add anything until Mac pulls me into it.
“Bren’s going to be my abductee for that weekend, aren’t you, girl?”
I am? Hell to the yeah.
“One hundred percent up for being abducted, Sir.”
That gets laughs all around.
“Are you going for the full abduction package,” Napa asks. “Or just the semi-abduction package without hood and zip-ties?”
“There’s an abduction package without hood and zip-ties?” I say in mock horror. “Say it ain’t so.”
“Oh, no, girl,” Mac laughs. “There’s no abduction package for you that doesn’t include hood and zip-ties. Anyway, you’re getting the deluxe abduction experience. Cage. Bucket. Dog bowl. Nothing but the best for my girl.”
The bikers roar and I roll my eyes at my Dom.
Tiana comes skipping back with two full trays of edibles: brownies and what look like lemon bars, complete with powdered sugar on top. She plucks out two brownies and a lemon bar before passing the trays around to the bikers. I get a brownie and Mac gets a lemon bar, which evidently isn’t to his taste by the way he grimaces as he chews.
“Tastes skunked,” he whispers to me.
Edibles always taste a little musty to me, but I absolutely love pot and chocolate and I’ve definitely had worse. I polish off my brownie in three bites before stealing some of Mac’s water to wash it down.
“How long does it take to hit?” Mac asks me. “’Cause I’m not seeing Lucy in the sky with diamonds, yet.”
I elbow him. “That’s LSD, Sir, not weed. It just depends on your metabolism. Probably like a half-hour to an hour you’ll begin feeling floaty and relaxed.”
“I’m all for floaty and relaxed,” Mac says, blowing out a series of smoke rings which get hoots and catcalls from the bikers.
The bikers’ weed is pretty damn good, because it hits me in less than twenty minutes and Mac even faster. We end up squeezed together in one of the pool deck chairs, lying on our backs and looking up at the stars, while Mac somewhat disjointedly explains my skinhead problem to Napa and another biker, who I think is called Cinder. He’s big and bald and very quiet, asking maybe one question to Napa’s ten, but there’s a sense of weight to his questions, same as when Logan gets pissed off. Mac’s more even tempered, except for his explosion at Theo and banging me against the motel door, although he certainly had enough provocation for the second one. I wouldn’t really want to get on either Logan’s or Mac’s bad side, but I’d be much more worried about Logan losing his shit at me, particularly after what I’ve heard he did to Pence.
When Mac finishes speaking, Cinder says, “Seems to me like Taco could benefit from a few days in the big city.” He tips the cigar he’s smoking at me. “Maybe you could give him a free tattoo in exchange for him watching your place?”
“Sure,” I say. I’m a little hazy on what I’m agreeing to, but, hey, tattoos I can do.
Cinder sits back in his chair and puffs his stogie. “I’ll set that up.”
It’s only the next morning, when a bashful teen with brown hair flopping over his eyes, knocks on the door of the room the bikers have given us for the night, that I realize what Cinder meant.
“Taco?” I ask, a little warily and a lot huskily because I’m still recovering from what Mac did to my throat last night.
“Hi, ma’am.”
I know I haven’t had any coffee yet, but I can’t look that old. “It’s Brenna. Gimme a minute, okay?”
I close the door gently, not liking shutting him out in the hallway, but I’m not dressed and Mac is still in the bathroom shaving.
As I pull on my leathers, I poke my head into the bathroom. “Mac, did we agree to play host-a-biker?”
Mac chuckles then hisses as he nicks his chin. “I have a vague memory of that.”
“I think he’s at the door.”
“Tell him to grab a coffee and we’ll be ten minutes. That long enough for you to get ready?”
“Yeah. Are we, like, feeding him and stuff? He looks hungry.”
Mac laughs. “If he hasn’t eaten, we’ll take him to breakfast with us, but we’re not adopting him.”
“Okay. I think I agreed to tattoo him last night,” I say as I pull Mac’s T-shirt over my head.
“Tattoo seems like a fair trade for him providing a little protection. And don’t think I don’t see you stealing my clothes, girl.”
I give him a wink as I pull on his sweater to cover the T-shirt I’ve stolen. “Protection? I’m not trying to be an asshole, Sir, but he doesn’t look like he could protect a loaf of bread.”
Mac snorts. “Give him the benefit of the doubt. He’s probably a prospect if Cinder’s assigning him guard-duty. Prospects are tougher than they look. They have to be, or they don’t last long.”
“Maybe he’s new,” I say, collecting my toiletry bag from the counter and stuffing it in my duffle. I look around, checking to make sure I haven’t left anything. “I’m ready. Maybe I should go hang out with the kid? I know guys your age are a little creaky in the morning. Takes geezers longer to get going.”
Mac unwinds a towel from around his neck and snaps it at my ass. “I’ll show you creaky.”
I laugh all the way out into the hallway.
Chapter 18
Taco, an unfortunate road name if I ever heard one and evidently arising from a puking incident, is a decent kid. He’s a year or two younger than Naomi but looks like he still has some growing to do to catch up with his puppy-paws. Despite his clumsiness, he handles his bike well as we wind our way back into the City. I mull over what to do with his bike as we ride and finally decide to house it with mine in Brooklyn rather than trying to find a safe place in the East Village. One of the few things to recommend my apartment is that it has an integral garage.
Taco follows me gamely through the increasingly leafy, residential streets until we reach my low, brick apartment building. He doesn’t argue when I beckon him to follow as I wheel my bike into the garage. He locks his bike, takes off his “Prospect” cut and reverentially folds it into a saddlebag, throws the saddlebags over his shoulder, and follows me up into my apartment without comment.
I’ve sent Brenna up ahead and find her in the euphemistically named “multi-purpose” room. It’s really a combination living room/dining room/kitchen, but since I’m rarely here, it’s currently used as storage, with unpacked boxes piled on the table, counters, and in every corner. I haven’t painted or put up any pictures because I’m never here, so what’s the point? Bren doesn’t say anything as she surveys the space but follows me into the bedroom. Once we’re both inside, she shuts the door and puts her arms around me.
“I’m taking the risk, Sir.”
“What risk is that, girl?”
“You said I could touch you whenever I wanted if I was willing to take the risk. I’m taking the risk. And Mac? You shouldn’t stay another night here.”
“What’s wrong, girl? You worried about your Sir being lonely?”
“I’m worried about him being suicidal. This place is
like the Pit of Despair.”
“Well, it is Brooklyn.”
Bren laughs softly at my joke. “Please, Sir, move your stuff into my apartment while you’re waiting for Logan’s to be ready.”
“You asking me to move in with you, girl?”
“Mostly I’m asking you to move out of here, but I’d be happy to have you stay with me.”
“It seems pointless to move twice.”
“Not to me, Sir.”
I tip her chin up so I can give her a kiss. “I appreciate the concern, girl. I haven’t slept here in a while and shuttling back and forth to the East Village is a pain, so maybe I’ll take you up on that. I don’t have that much to move, anyway. Let me pack some fresh clothes and we’ll go.”
She squeezes me before she releases me, then perches on the edge of the bed while I pack a bag. “Other than acquiring our tag-along, things with the bikers seemed to go well.”
“They did,” I confirm. “Nothing not to like. None of the rules Rolling Blue had that bothered me. They’re smart about having everyone in the club be in the lifestyle. I didn’t have to worry about slipping up or speaking out of turn. I could see many of them becoming friends. What about you, girl? You seemed to get on well with Tiana.”
“Yes, Sir. I liked them all.”
“Good. Napa’s asked us to come up next week for a fall colors ride and pig roast. Would you be up for that?”
“Definitely, Sir.” She grins. “Are we doing edibles again?”
I shake my head at her. “Now that is taking a risk, girl. You know I took it easy on your ass last night because you’ve had a hell of a lot of ass-play over the last few days and it was only your second real ride. Do not expect that in the future. You do not want me fucking that ass for a solid hour before a half-day ride.”
She grimaces, probably remembering my stamina last night. Weed hits different people different ways, evidently. It made me pleasantly hazy and then hungry and then incredibly horny. My dick just would not stop and after I gave her the anal orgasm I promised and cleaned up, I went at her throat for over an hour. Bren is just as well trained as Javier’s black-haired sub but I think even she was reaching her limit by the time I finally came.