MC Chronicles: The Diary of Bink Cummings: Vol 2: (Motorcycle Club Romance Novel) (31 page)

“Do you think you can handle what I
just said?” he finally speaks, and his words are warming, almost soothing, even
with his finger still inside me. In a weird way, it almost feels like he’s
talking to my soul, not my mind. My soul loves what he had to say, and my heart
is swelling with an immense overflow of emotions. But my mind, my mind is
telling me to flee, to run far, far away and never look back. To take Harley, my car, Kitty, and never ever return. It’s a good thing my heart and soul
feel differently. I wrap my arms around Big, pressing my lips firmly to his
mouth, somehow trying to convey my understanding without words.

He smiles wider to my lips and pokes
his tongue out to coax me to open my mouth, and I do. Tilting my head to the
side, I open, and our tongues collide. We kiss deep and sweetly, conveying our
emotions with the delicate and passionate sweep of our tongues. I thread my
hands in the back of his hair, tugging it out of its hair tie, and run my
fingers through his long locks.

Big breathes heavily to my mouth as
he retracts his finger from my pussy and unfastens his jeans. Still kissing
him, I hear his jeans hit the floor as he fumbles to release his dick. I feel
as his fingers push my boxers to the side. I scoot forward. His hands move to
my hips. Pressing his dick to my core, my pussy expands around him, and he
thrusts in deep, groaning into our heady lip lock that has left me dizzy.

Big’s hands release my hips and curl
around my back, hugging me to him. My thighs tighten around his hips as he
begins to move. Gently his cock pumps in and out of my pussy, and I feel every
part of him. The way his arms tighten around me. The gusts of air as they expel
from his nose. The way his cock jerks when he hits deep. The way he moans when
bottoming out in my pussy. Slowly, he brings me higher and higher to bliss, as
my walls tighten around his thick shaft, and I hump my hips in sync with his
delicious thrusts.

Tearing away from my mouth, he goes
to my neck, kissing and sucking. My hands tighten in his hair, pressing him to
my needy flesh. My toes curl as my heels dig into the firmness of his hot ass.
I feel myself being drawn closer.

Big nips my chin with his teeth.
“Fuck, Sugar Tits, your pussy feels so good,” he hotly groans.

“Yes,” I breathe and bite my lip.

I’m so close.

Big latches his mouth onto my neck
and sinks his teeth into my flesh. Then I feel it. My body quakes, and I hold
my breath. My eyes roll into the back of my head, and I coil tight, my pussy
squeezing Big’s cock for all it’s worth. And then it happens, my body explodes
and light bursts behind my eyelids. I dig my nails into Big’s shoulder, holding
on for dear life, as he instinctively begins to hammer my pussy, driving my
orgasm to an otherworldly plane. I belt out an orgasm cry, flailing in Big’s
arms, and he holds me tight, releases my neck from his teeth, and follows me
over.

“Fuck!” he roars, propelling his hips
like a piston, filling my pussy with his come for the second time today.

My breathing levels out, and I
extract my nails from Big’s shoulders. Damn, I’m pretty sure he’s going to
bruise. Big takes a deep breath, and I feel his cock jerk once more. I sigh
contentedly at the feeling, and he releases me but doesn’t move his feet. He
reaches over to a drawer, yanks it open, and pulls out a dishcloth. Turning his
hips and leaning, he flips on the gooseneck kitchen faucet and waits for the
water to get warm before he dampens the cloth and wrings out the excess water
in his closed fist.

“I made another mess,” he grins,
holding the dishcloth in one hand and combing his fingers through my hair with
the other. I close my eyes, leaning into his tender palm. I could really get
used to this.

“Love you,” he pecks my lips, and I
smile happily, fluttering my eyes open. He steps back, and his cock slips from
my pussy. As I groan, he immediately covers me with the warm washcloth. My
hands rest on the counter for support as I tip back a little to open myself up
and make it easier for him to cleanse me.

Then shit takes a wild and crazy
turn.

I hear a gasp and a woman’s heartfelt cry. Big immediately spins around, dropping the washcloth between my legs onto the marbled countertop. I peer around him to see Marylou standing at the base of the stairs. Her red-rimmed eyes are cast on Big and I, and her hand is covering her mouth in shock.

She makes a strangled sound in her throat, and we all sort of freeze in our own form of shock while Pretzel stands on guard growling three feet in front of her.

“Stand down, Pretzel,” Big commands
and he listens.

Pretzel makes a strange evasive
maneuver, walking backwards toward us with his eyes still on Marylou. Big bends
down to pat his head when my pups stops to stand next to him. Then Big
leisurely slides his pants back up his legs, zipping and buttoning them.

Big doesn’t even speak to Marylou
before he swings back around, grabs the washcloth, and tosses it into the sink,
which makes a loud smacking sound. He pushes my shorts back into place and
helps me down off the counter. I wobble a bit on my legs, and Big curls his arm
over my shoulder to steady me before he kisses my forehead, right in front of
his girlfriend or now ex-girlfriend.

Wow, he really doesn’t seem to care
about her feelings whatsoever.

“Biggg,” Marylou’s saddened whine is
the first to break the silence.

She sounds awful and so heartbroken.
My heart aches for her.

Big doesn’t address Marylou; it’s
like he doesn’t even hear her whimpering in pain.

His glittering love-filled eyes shift
down to me. He kisses my forehead again and squeezes my shoulder before dropping
his arm. “Sugar Tits, go get dressed. We’re gonna go to the clubhouse, and I’m
gonna take care of this,” his head tilts to where Marylou is still standing,
awestruck.

I don’t know what to do or say. I’m
not in any shape to argue, and I didn’t create this mess. He did, so he can
clean it up.

“Okay,” I agree, and this makes him
smile.

“What?” I tilt my head to the side,
wondering what is going on in that devilish mind of his.

“I think I’ve learned how to turn the
bitch off,” he admits, like it’s the greatest thing he’s ever accomplished.

Rearing my head back, I place my
right hand on my hip. “Ex-cu-se me?” I drawl with attitude, my eyes nearly
bugging out of my head, lips pursed.

He knowingly grins.

“Go get dressed,” he orders with an
amused, loving tone.

I refuse to move. I don’t care if I
have to wait all day he is going to answer me.

“No,” I snap.

The grin turns into a full-fledged
single dimple one that makes my heart flutter, and his eyes shine even
brighter. Shit, he’s too damn gorgeous for his own good. I look down to his
chest. The asshole really needs to put on a shirt; he’s able to give any woman
an orgasm just looking at that sexy chest and those thick, rigid abs.

Unconsciously, I lick my lips.

Dammit.
I shake my head to rid it of those
thoughts and tilt my head back to glare at his face. I can’t think of him this
way. He’s being an ass.

“You’re too damn cute,” he taps a
finger to my nose.

Oh hell no! He did not! The blood
that runs in my veins turn to lava. I’m about to explode all over this asshole.

I ‘humph’ under my breath and grind
my jaw, fisting my hands at my sides, so I don’t coldcock him.

“Calm down and go get dressed, so we can
go to the clubhouse. I gotta handle this.” He’s still calm and amused with me.

How is he calm? What the fuck? Big is
never calm. He’s always a control freak and demanding. He’s not… he’s like… I
dunno… sweet or some shit…
weird.

“Tell me first.” I try to control my
temper, but the words seethe from between my clenched teeth.

He bends down and brushes his lips to
my ear. I shiver. “I turn your bitch off when I’m makin’ you come. I think I’m
gonna be makin’ you come a lot more, if I get the easy, laid back Bink. I still
love the bitchy Bink. They’re both hot, and I still wanna fuck ‘em both. But
shit, when you get all sweet and soft after I make you come, it’s the best
fuckin’ feeling in the world.”

My stomach does a flip, and my clit
somehow sparks at his words, as my mouth goes dry. I like that idea. I like
that idea a lot, but I’m not gonna tell him that.

“Can you handle that?” he whispers to
my ear, wafting his warm breath across my sensitive flesh.

I can’t say anything without sounding
like a moron, so I nod instead. This is the most surreal two days of my life.

“You gonna go get dressed so we can
go hang at the clubhouse? I got some shit to do, but I can’t leave ya home. I
need ya with me.”

I nod again.

Big kisses my cheek, stands up,
smiles, and pushes his hand to my shoulder. It’s his way of guiding me in the
right direction.

In a weird daze, I walk past the
couch and up the hall to the bedroom, with Pretzel on my heels the whole way.
Entering into the bedroom, I drop my ass on the bed and wrap my arms around my
belly, looking down at Harley.

“Daddy is…” I can’t think of the word
to say to Harley. Amazing? Wonderful? Surreal? Shit…. I have no idea.

“Daddy loves us,” I say aloud,
instead.

Pretzel sits on my feet as I shake my
head again to clear it from all these weird feelings and thoughts. It’s time I
focus on something else, like trying to eavesdrop on Big and Marylou in the
basements living room talking. I’m nosy. Get the hell over it.

“What do you mean?” I hear Marylou
sob, her voice cracking.

“Like I said, it ain’t gonna work.”
Big is hard, but not harsh with his words.

Marylou belts out a strangled cry, “But
I love you.”

“I know, and I’m sorry. You’re a
sweet girl and all, and I don’t wanna hurt ya. But that woman back there.”

I assume he’s pointing to the hall.

“She’s my world, and she’s carrying
my daughter,” Big explains with a level tone.

I have to hand it to him; he’s
holding back his temper quite well. It doesn’t take much to piss him off, and
he’s handling a crying woman more delicately than I would have ever thought.

“She’s what?!” Marylou wails. “But
you sleep with other women all the time. Why can’t I be one of them? Big,
please, I won’t get in her way.”

Holy shit, she is seriously agreeing
just to be his whore. What is wrong with all these women? Don’t they love
themselves more than this? More than becoming some man’s play thing? I could
never do that shit. I get that he’s hot and the mother chapter’s president.
That doesn’t mean a damn thing to me. It’s about the man, not the title. That
girl is young, and she’s got a bright future ahead of her. She doesn’t need to
turn into another Linda. Marylou’s too sweet for that. I hope Big sets her ass
straight.

“I
used
to sleep with other women all the time. I ain’t gonna do that shit no more.”

Marylou whimpers, and he keeps on
talking, “That woman’s my heart, and I just got her back. I’m sorry, babe, but
you gotta jet. I’ve got more lost time to make up for, and we’ve got some
family shit we gotta do. I’m not tryin’ to be an asshole. You’re a nice girl.
We had fun. But that’s over for good. I told you from the get-go this was
only temporary. I keep my word. And I just told my old lady I wasn’t gonna
touch another pussy. So I ain’t.” Big is cut and dry, allowing no wiggle room.
His words run deep, making me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
Shit
, I am totally pussin’ out.

Big’s talk with Marylou runs longer
as she tries to convince him to give her another shot. I leave him to it.
Normally I would be all up in her face about this. The poor girl is
heartbroken, and there is no way I am going to try to mend my man’s past
fling’s heart. That’s his job. Or he can send her to Runner or Mickey; I’m sure
they can occupy her for a while.

I stop listening and sluggishly walk
to Big’s closet. Inside, it’s still in disarray from Big’s rampage. I try to
step over the mess, and I find a pair of men’s shorts with a drawstring. I pull
them on and tighten the string around my waist, under my belly. They’re still
loose, but they’ll do for the time being until I get back to the clubhouse to
change into my own clothes. Big is a huge man, and it’s not like I could put on
any pairs of his pants. He shops in the big and tall section. My inseam is like
a 28 or 30, and his is at least a 38. That’s just a guess because I haven’t
checked his Levi’s to know.

Coming out of the closet, Pretzel
raises his head from the floor, his ears perking up. That’s when I hear the
distinguishable tone of Gunz’s voice funneling down the hall.

“Where the hell is she?” he demands.
Then I hear footsteps as they stomp down the hall on a mission. Gunz turns the
corner into the room, his eye assessing the door before he darts to me, as I
stand in the middle of the room.

“There you are,” he sounds relieved,
as he makes his way the last few feet to me, and wraps me in a bear hug. I lay
my head to his chest, wrapping my arms around his middle and closing my eyes,
relaxing against him.

He kisses my hair. “When I heard Marylou was here, I
got worried.”

I snort a laugh; I can’t help it. I laugh because I
know he wasn’t worried about me. He was worried about Marylou and what I might
have done to her since he already knows the damage I inflicted on Linda.

“I didn’t hurt her,” I mutter to his chest.

“I know this now, but I didn’t want Big havin’ to peel
you two apart.” Gunz rubs my back in a loving gesture, which makes me sleepy.

I shake my head, “I wouldn’t hurt her. I let him
handle it.”

“I know that now,” Gunz explains as he releases me.
Holding at arm’s length, he scowls when his eyes catch the marks on my neck.
“What the fuck is that?” he runs a finger over the tender flesh.