Devil on Your Back (25 page)

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Authors: Max Henry

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Ignoring the hum of the talk and laughter that continues outside, I roll to my side and close my eyes. Vince and I haven’t discussed how long we’ll be here now that the immediate danger is gone. Maybe it’ll be a week, or perhaps a month?

I don’t know. All I can wish for is that somewhere in that timeframe I find a reason to be here with him. A reason why he needs me at his side.

BRONX AND
Ty are laughing over an old story about the two of them hustling their way out of a dire situation. I lean back in my chair, finding foot space on a nearby low table, and smile as they retell the events with such humor. Alice passes me a new beer, and I lean forward to take it from his outstretched hand. He chuckles at the story, adding his two cents in.

The afternoon is nice, settled. We’re acting like a family, friends—normal people. Nowhere are there the signs of the tension that riddled our relationships a week ago: no crossed arms, no clenched fists or snarky comments. Everyone is content to sit and hear out the light-hearted stories, which have probably been told a dozen times before.

I only wish Sonya wanted to share in this.

Placing my feet on the ground, I scoot up in the chair. The guys rib each other over their varying recollections of an event, but nothing sinks in. I take a swig of beer, and decide to go see what she’s doing.

“You right, Dad?” Alice asks.

“Sure.” I nod. “Be back soon.”

He nods and re-joins the noisy banter. Jane gives me a knowing smile as I pass, and I offer her one I return. She’s patiently sitting there, listening to the men compare the length of their dicks more or less, without a singular complaint.

I have a small chuckle when I get indoors and find both Ramona and Mack curled up asleep, cartoons playing in the background. Sonya still appears to be in one of the spare rooms, so I wander down the hallway to find her.

Her hair is fanned out behind her head where she lies on the bed we’ve been sharing, not stirring as I enter the room. I make my way around the bed, crouching down beside her to see if she’s asleep or ignoring me. Her eyes flick open, and she stretches her gorgeous body out rigid.

“Hey,” she murmurs.

“Why you still in here?” I ask. “Thought you would have come out by now.”

“I didn’t want to impose,” she answers.

“Impose?” I repeat. “Why would you be imposing?”

“Well,” she starts, staring off at the power point beside the bed, “you guys looked like you were having a good time. I didn’t feel as though you needed me there.”

“Babe,” I say, stroking the hair from her face. “Don’t be foolish. Of course I want you there—that’s why I’ve come looking for you.”

She sighs, and curls her knees into her body. “You need the time to make up for the lost years with Alice. I can’t help with that.”

“So?” I frown. “What’s that got to do with having you beside me?”

“I’m imposing, Vince. I’m not sure I’m needed for you to do this. It’d probably be better if you didn’t have me as a distraction.” She offers me a small smile, but that placating bullshit only infuriates me.

I rock back on my heels and blow out a sharp breath. “Woman, get this bullshit out of your head. You asked me why you needed to come on the way here, and I told you then I wanted you with me. Why would I change my mind?”

She shrugs, and moves to a sitting position.

“Are you still stewing over that shit with King and your connections?”

She nods.


I
want you here, Sonya,” I reiterate, taking hold of her hands. “Stop feeding your head with rubbish.”

“I know it’s silly,” she says. “But I guess I wonder why you need me, you know? I’ve been trying to find an answer, and I just can’t come up with one.”

I shake my head, and move position to sit beside her. “Why would you wonder that?”

“Well, I know why the clubhouse needs me,” she states, “and Mack. Ramona needs me as a friend. But you . . . other than sex, I’m not sure what it is I have to offer you?”

“I’m going to tell you a story,” I say. She turns her body toward me, and waits.

“I met this woman, once, who could light up a room with her smile alone.” I steal a glance at her, and suppress my glee when she appears as though she’s thinking what I want her to—that I’m talking about Julia. “People gravitated towards her, loving the way she made them feel valuable, special. You see, she had this way about her that came naturally, a real compassion for others, putting them before herself.”

“She sounds lovely.”

“She was, but something happened.”

Her fingers entwine, and she leans forward. “What happened to her?”

I level my face with hers. “She stopped believing it did any good.”

Sonya swallows hard.

“That beautiful woman met a man who needed that compassion, and she offered it without hesitation. But that woman thought it wasn’t enough.”

She takes a staggered breath, and I know she’s unsettled at the realization I’m talking about her.

“She was so preoccupied with trying to find some magic answer to what it was she was destined to do that she missed what she had done entirely.”

“I still can’t see it,” she whispers.

“I know you can’t, baby.” I close the space between us, and dot a kiss to her lips. “So let me fill you in: without your encouragement, I wouldn’t have come here, convinced that I couldn’t help, and dare I even say it, things would have turned out a whole lot fuckin’ worse. Without you, I’d still be getting my slack ass drunk, looking for meaningless one-night stands, certain I couldn’t have another relationship without being disappointed. And without you, I wouldn’t have been anywhere near as happy as I was just now, sitting out there listening to my boy talk with his friends and feeling like I’m finally
a part
of his life again. Take the credit for those things, baby, and realize what you’ve done for me by simply being you.”

Sonya smiles, happy tears wetting her cheeks, and sits up straighter, pushing her chest out. “I guess you’re right, Vince. I missed all that. I was so determined to find some magic skill-set that I overlooked what I already have.”

“You don’t need to be super-human,” I reassure her. “So what if you aren’t something mind-blowing, like the only woman in the world strong enough to juggle two motorcycles.” She laughs. “You’re still important.
I
still find you amazing.”

Despite the fact I’ve just spouted off the most words I’ve ever used to describe a person, they’re still not enough. The right phrasing, or explanation eludes me. I simply can’t express what this little hurricane has done to my life.

“Thank you for having the kindness to tell me,” she says. “I know it’s not easy for guys to talk about things like you just did.”

And yet again, she blows me away by immediately thinking of someone other than herself. My palm finds her cheek, and I rub the pad of my thumb over her lips.

“What would you do,” I ask, “if I told you I love you?”

Her eyes enlarge, and she sucks in a sharp breath. “Say that I wouldn’t have anyone else tell me that. I literally wouldn’t wish to hear it from anyone but you.”

“I love you,” I whisper.

She smiles, yet she doesn’t say it back.

“It’s true,” I tell her. “There’s a reason why you were the first woman to grab my eye since Julia, and that’s because you’re exactly what I need.”

She smirks. “I caught your eye, huh?”

I chuckle, and cup her breasts in my palms. “Actually, these did when you leant over me to get that glass of water my first day in the club.”

Sonya slaps my hands down with a giggle. “You noticed me all the way back then?”

“And watched you ever since.”

Her legs slip apart, and she raises a hand to her throat. “Wow.” I feel the tension build inside of me as her sweet tongue darts between her lips, wetting the plump flesh. “I guess this would be a good time,” she says, “to share that I’d dreamt of what you would feel like on me, and in me, since then too.”

My cock stirs, and fire ignites low in my belly. Sonya leans forward, her hands on my thighs, and pushes her chest towards me. I lift my hand, dipping the tips of my fingers inside her tank to brush over her pebbled nipples. She moans, exposing her neck to me, and I lean in to suck on the point of her jugular, restraining myself from the overwhelming urge I have to bite her, claim her.

“Vince . . .” she breathes, eyes closed and head tipped back.

“What would you like, baby?”

“I want to play with myself while you stroke your cock. Let me taste you while you jerk off.”

I’ve never heard of a better way to spend the afternoon.

Sonya darts of the bed, and shuts the door. I sit on the side of the mattress, and make quick work of my jeans, a small gasp escaping her when she realizes I’ve been commando all day. She tugs the denim off my feet, and kneeling between my legs, runs her palms up the inside of my thighs. My dick springs to attention, glistening in anticipation.

“You look so damn good,” she purrs. “So damn good.”

Her eyes track my hand as I wrap my grasp around the base of my cock. I pull in long slow strokes as she licks her lips, watching the skin roll over my hard shaft. I swipe the pre-cum from the tip, and rub it over the head. She groans, letting her legs slip wide. My stroking intensifies, spurred on by the sight of her slipping a slender hand into her shorts.

“Take it off,” I order, needing to see her hand work that swollen cunt.

Sonya stands, and whips her shorts and panties off. She resumes her position on the floor, taking a pillow from the bed so she can lie with her head propped up as she plays with herself.

I train my gaze squarely on the arousal glistening on her lower lips, and feel my mouth growing heavy with saliva, eager to taste her.

“Fuck your cunt with those fingers, baby,” I instruct. “Feed yourself to me.”

She does as told, slipping her digits in deep, and pumping until I can see her cum start to run from her. She groans, lost in the sensation. I nudge her with my foot, not wanting her to crest yet, and she locks her heated gaze on me as I pump my cock with long strokes, palming the head.

“Come sit on my face,” I instruct her, and lie back.

The bed dips as Sonya crawls over me, knees positioned either side of my head so her dripping pussy is hovering over my face. I bury my nose in her sweetness, relishing the squirm I get from her. Sonya groans, deep and guttural, as I plunge my tongue deep, flicking her honey over my taste buds.

“Fuckin’ heaven,” I murmur into her pink folds. “I could eat this every day.”

She grinds into my face, and I swear if I died in that moment there would be no sweeter end.

Bicep flexing, and shoulders tense, I tug on my cock hard, the familiar tingles starting in my spine as I near climax. Sonya’s fingers trace my abs, which are popping from the exertion, and she continues to ride my tongue as I groan and growl into her wet heat.

I let go, cum branding my stomach. She swirls her fingers through it, and as I ease the last of my high, seats herself on my chest so I have a front row seat to the sexiest show in the house.

Her fingers, wet with my cum, plunge into her swollen cunt; her thumb stroking her clit in quick circles. Sonya orgasms, her backside clenching on my bare skin, moans echoing about the room as I watch her come all over her hand.

Her cries subside, and the second she pulls that magic hand free I grab her by the hips, and move her back to my face. She giggles, and quivers as I work her spent pussy with tongue, and fingers, persisting until the laughing becomes groaning, and her squirms become her pushing for more. Sonya comes again, hard, spectacularly, and I drink everything she has to offer, wondering if I’ll ever get enough.

“Vince, honey . . .”

“Yeah, baby?” I ask, her come wet on my face.

She scoots backward, positioning herself over me and taking my lips with hers. I enjoy her kissing, sucking, and biting, pulling her back for more before finally letting her go.

“I love you, too, Vince.”

Every muscle in my body hums as my heart sighs.

RAMONA WALKS
into the living room where I’m curled in an armchair, reading Jane’s book in the afternoon sun. She sighs, and runs her hands over her head, tired from battling Mack over whether he could have another two biscuits so close to dinner.

“He’s at that awkward stage,” she explains. “It’s probably a growth spurt.”

“You might be right,” I agree. Maybe I don’t have kids of my own, but I may as well be an honorary mother with how many kids have grown up within the club compounds I’ve lived in over my years. “You’ll just get past one and he’ll have another. Murphy’s law.”

She chuckles and flops onto the sofa. “That’d be right.” Her chin lifts to point toward where Vince has re-joined the men outside to see Bronx and Ty off. “How are things with you two? You both seem a lot happier today.”

“Yeah.” I smile. “We worked out the last pieces to the puzzle, I think. It’s hard, trying to distinguish the way I felt about Mike from the way I feel about Vince. I spent so much time at the start worrying about what I was doing to Mike’s memory to really realize just how important what Vince and I could have was.” I take a look at the man outside who’s stolen my heart. “I’m glad I decided to try.”

Her eyes narrow, and she scrutinizes me. “Do you realize what you just said.”

I shake my head.

“You said, ‘what I felt about Mike’—as in past tense.”

“I guess I did,” I say, genuinely shocked. “Fancy that.”

“You’re good for each other,” she says, grinning. “He’s a lot less broody, and you’re . . . happier.”

“Was I not happy before?” I tease.

“Not genuinely,” she whispers, leaning forward. “Now you are though.”

We spend a moment in silence as the realization of where I’m at with Vince sinks in. I spent so much time stressing about trivial things, but I can see what he meant when he said it would be worth it. If I’d known this is how I could feel when I stopped worrying about Mike’s memory, I would have battled to get to this point sooner.

I feel healthy, alive. And I know for a fact I’m loved.

“Do you ever wonder what’s happened to Sawyer?” Ramona asks randomly.

“Sometimes,” I answer in earnest, switching subjects in my mind. “But we need to make peace with what has been done, Mona. The man had it coming; it just sucks that we had to be the ones to deliver.”

She nods, and closes her eyes. “I’m getting tired of this, Sonya.”

“Of what?”

“Being so emotionally invested in a lifestyle that only leads to heartache.” Her eyes flick open, and she stares at the sunlight making patterns on the ceiling. “It seems like every time I think the club is finally settling down, something else comes up. I don’t know how much longer I can stay strong for Mack like this.”

“What are you thinking of doing?” I close my book and set it aside.

“Leaving the life. Starting again.”

“Where?” I can only guess.

“Here,” she confirms. “I’ve been looking around at schools and housing. It seems pretty good here, plus I’d have these guys as support. Jane’s lovely.”

“She is,” I agree. Although, I’m pretty sure she has another reason to stay. My gaze flicks to where Ty was just standing. “How do you think Mack would take it?”

Ramona shrugs, oblivious to where I was looking. “He’s young enough still to adapt. And quite frankly, I’d rather he was upset about moving houses than having another ‘uncle’ at the club die.”

Stark, pitiless truth, right there.

Having Mack continue to grow up in the club will do nothing short of guarantee him a spot as a prospect when he’s old enough, and then a position as an officer before long. If Ramona struggles with seeing him in the lifestyle now, then how the hell would she manage that? I can’t think of a single mother who would honestly say she’d be comfortable to stand back and let her baby put himself in harm’s way, constantly.

“Have you told King how you’re feeling?”

She shakes her head slowly. “Not yet.”

I sigh, and scoot forward in my seat. “Sweetheart, you have to do what is right for you. Don’t you worry about the opinions of others. You trust your gut, and if it says you need to leave us behind and start afresh, then do it.” Because isn’t that what I’ve been telling myself the last few days? That I need to go with my gut?

She smiles. “I wouldn’t leave you all behind. We’d still visit, but I need that distance . . . for Mack.”

I reach across, and take her hand. “I get it. Just make sure you have a spare room for us to visit you as well.”

She nods, beaming a genuine smile. “I will.”

“Now,” I say, standing, “I better go find my man so we can organize what we’re having for dinner.”

I head for the door when Ramona calls out, “Sonya?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for everything you did over the years. For me and Mack. I don’t think anyone ever tells you that enough, but we all need you. We’d be lost around that place if you left.”

“Good thing I don’t have any plans to,” I say, and turn away before she can see my welling tears.

Because she’s just told me the very reason why I can’t leave—because who I am matters to these people, my family, and what I give them would be missed.

These past weeks I’ve struggled with not being something more important. But where exactly? On paper? In a job title? I
am
more to that club, just as Vince explained, and I’ve come to realize that I crave the dependency those boys have on me. Without it, who would I be? Why would I matter? I appreciate the gratification they give me when I go out of my way for them, but I’d do it even if the lot of them never paid me the time of day, because I love them.

They are my family, and they are the ones I turn to.

Without the club, I’m simply not myself.

I soon find Vince out in the garage with Alice, tinkering with an old lawn mower. I rub my eyes one last time, paranoid they’ll know how much Ramona’s words affected me, and head in to greet them.

Vince lifts his head, and smiles. “Hey you. What’s up?”

“Can I talk to you?” I ask.

Alice tosses a rag to Vince. He snags it, and scrubs the oil and grease from his fingers.

“Everything okay?” Vince’s eyes roam my face as I stand there in the open, unprotected from his scrutiny.

“Yeah.” I wave it off. “Just want to talk to you about dinner.”

Vince tips his chin, frowning, and turns to Alice. “You good?”

He simply nods, and returns to his tinkering as Vince guides me from the garage.

“What do you want to discuss about dinner that’s so important?” he asks as we walk.

“Nothing,” I say as we crest the porch steps.

“Didn’t think so.” He stalls. “So, what is it?”

“I want to go home, Vince. I’ve been thinking about everyone at the club, and”—I giggle at the ludicrousness of it—“I think I’m home-sick.”

“Really?” he asks, wide-eyed.

“What’s so hard to believe about that?”

“Nothing,” he says, guiding us to a seat. “It’s just you talked so much about feeling like you didn’t mean anything to them.”

I nod. “Yeah, I did . . .”

“But?”

“But, I’ve been thinking about what you said, as well as what King told me when you phoned him at the diner. They’re my family, Vince, and sometimes family forget to say thank you or show their gratitude, but you can’t lose that bond. They mean a lot to me, every one of those grubby guys, right down to the last hang-around. I miss being able to show
my
appreciation for them by doing what I do every day.”

He sighs, and leans forward in his seat. “You’re sure about this?”

“Completely,” I answer. “I think it’s just being there every day without a break gave me a narrow view of it all. But this trip down here, it’s exactly what I needed to take a step back and realize what I missed.”

“King will be happy to hear that.”

“He will?”

“Of course, baby. He was worried about you.”

Vince stares intently at the tree in the backyard. Quiet moments pass with nothing more than the chirp of a lonely bird in the branches. I fidget, waiting for him to say something else, unsure if I should just get up and walk away, if the conversation is over or not.

“Do you not want to go home yet?” I ask.

“I would have liked to stay a little longer, but Alice and I had a good talk when you were reading. I think it’ll be okay.”

I reach out, and place my hand on his leg. “I don’t want to rush you.”

“Baby,” he says, trapping my hand under his, “you’re not.”

“I’m looking forward to this, Vince—to finding out where this takes us.”

“I am too,” he says, and leans over for a kiss.

I match his softness, gently pulling at his bottom lip when I lean back again.

“I’m glad I had you to share these past days with,” he admits.

“You are?”

He nods. “Seems fitting to have you a part of these new memories.”

I smile, and do a partial bow. “Glad I could be of service.”

“I think you’ve helped more people in your lifetime than you realize, gorgeous.”

“I sure hope so.”

Vince holds my gaze for a quiet while, and I begin to squirm.

“Don’t ever leave, no matter what happens around us,” he says. “Promise me I get to keep you forever.”

I smile slowly, warmed by his need. “I promise.”

“How do I know you’re not just telling me what I want to hear?”

“Because I’m not,” I say, frowning. “I mean it.” I can’t imagine a life on my own anymore, without him there to ground me.

“Be my old lady,” he rushes out. “Make that promise to not just me, but everyone at the club that I’ll wake up to you every day.”

My face burns—I’ve never felt more exposed.

“That’s a very serious title, Vince.”

“I’m a very serious man.”

My head scrambles for something monumental, meaningful and memorable to say, but I draw a blank. As committed as we are to each other, I truly never saw that coming. So, I go with my gut, considering it hasn’t failed me yet. “I’d love to.”

His eyes brighten, and he lunges from the seat, scooping me into his chest. I wrap my arms about his neck, and twist in his hold to grip his waist with my legs.

“You, baby, have made me very happy.”

“Correction,” I say, before placing a kiss on his lips. “We make each other happy.”

I continue to pepper him with kisses along his jaw and up to his temple as he walks. I’m so consumed in the moment, I don’t even check to see where Ramona is as we pass through the mudroom and hang a right at the doorway, away from the living room. Vince marches us into our spare room, and kicks the door shut behind him.

“Weren’t we in here not so long ago?” I ask with a smirk.

“Yeah, but now we got something else to celebrate. I can’t wait for everyone to know,” he says, giddy as a kid at Christmas. “We’re heading home tomorrow.”

“Whatever you say.”

The bed dips under our weight, and he lays me down beneath him. “Are you really all mine?” he asks, teasing in his tone.

“One hundred per cent.”

“I’m fuckin’ lucky,” he chuckles, “to get all this sexiness whenever I want it.”

“And don’t you forget it,” I taunt, wriggling free of my T-shirt.

Vice assists me in getting it over my head, and swiftly pops the clasp on my bra in the process. I tug it over my arms and toss it aside, moving on to my shorts while he stands to remove his clothes.

Vince naked is a sight I know I’ll never tire of. He looks after his body with the same precision and care as his bike, and the result is the same both ways—a finely-tuned machine ready to run whenever you want.

I trap him inside my legs, clamping my ankles together behind him after he lowers himself back over me. Our eyes hold one another, never breaking that connection as he rubs his length over my clit, working us both to the point of distraction.

I wriggle and edge my way around underneath him, trying to get his cock that bit further on the downward stroke so he slips into line, but by the grin on his face, he’s well aware of what I’m trying to do and holding back expertly.

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