MC Chronicles: The Diary of Bink Cummings: Vol 2: (Motorcycle Club Romance Novel) (32 page)

BOOK: MC Chronicles: The Diary of Bink Cummings: Vol 2: (Motorcycle Club Romance Novel)
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“I got a little carried away,” Big announces, coming
into the room and walking around Gunz to stand next to me. He throws a
possessive arm over my shoulder, tucking me into his side, forcing Gunz to let
me go.

Ummmm… alright… so this isn’t the time for this
possessive shit. It’s just Gunz.

Irritated by this, I try to move away, only to have
Big’s arm tighten over my shoulder. His fingers curl over my arm and makes me
turn into him, my front to his. His other hand reaches up and brushes across
the same marks that Gunz is angry about. He grins at them, like he’s happy
they’re there. Then his fingers move from my neck into the side of my hair,
combing through it. I lean into his palm, and Big pulls me forward using his
other arm that’s wrapped over my arm, his palm flat in the middle of my back.
My feet bump his when my stomach presses to his crotch.

Inhaling deeply, I sigh and get an overload of Big’s
delicious, soothing scent at the same time. My legs wobble just as Big leans
down and presses a tender kiss to my forehead.

“It’s gonna be fine,” he says to my forehead, but I
get the distinct notion that he’s not speaking to me, he’s talking to Gunz.

“Then you can’t be fuckin’ markin’ her,” Gunz replies,
agitated.

Yup, Big was talking to Gunz.

“Listen, I get that this is gonna be an adjustment,
brother. But you’ve got to calm the hell down. We got her back here. She’s
stayin’, and we’re gonna work this shit out. Me markin’ her neck ain’t gonna
make her leave.” Big presses a finger under my chin, tilting it, so my eyes
meet his. “Right, Sugar Tits?”

“Right,” I lazily mutter, still drunk on the scent of
him. Fuck, I’m still drunk on the whole morning.

“What the hell did you do to her?” Gunz is worried. I
know he’s not used to this side of me. To be honest, I’m not even used to it.
I’m usually wired for sound.

“She came three times. That’s what I did to her,” Big
growls to Gunz, to prove his point.

Gunz chokes on his spit from shock and coughs,
clearing his throat. “Alright, brother, alright. I don’t wanna know that shit,
so I’ll be going. Don’t forget Church at five. And another party tonight to
finish out Brew’s weddin’ weekend,” Gunz says. I feel his hand squeeze my
shoulder before he leaves without another word.

My eyes are still entranced with Big’s and are
blinking rapidly. I think I need a nap. Good food, lots of orgasms, drama, and
being woke up before I wanted to get up means I definitely need a damn nap.

“Sugar Tits, you look tired,” Big assesses my face,
looking a little concerned.

“I am,” I mutter, feeling like I might fall asleep standing up. Who would have guessed this weekend would have been so draining? Oh, right, I did. Damn, I’m exhausted.

“Let’s get you a nap.” Big presses a hand to the
middle of my back, steps to the side, and pushes me toward the bed.

I climb in, and he pulls the covers up over me.
Crawling up beside me, he pulls me to him, cocooning my head to his bare chest,
arms around me, lips to my hair.

“How’d the Marylou thing go?” I whisper to his fine
ass chest and poke out my tongue to taste it.

Big hotly grunts. “You do that again, and I’m gonna
roll you over and have my way with you,” he warns, seriously.

Oooo, I love that idea. I go to run my tongue against
his warm flesh once more only to be stopped when Big growls that deep potent
growl that seeps into your every pore and makes me insta-wet.

“Don’t you do it,” he darkly cautions. “You need a
nap, Sugar Tits.”

He’s right, I do.

Snuggling into him, I rub my nose to Big’s chest, and
within a minute, I’m out for the count, held in my man’s arms. What the hell
have I gotten myself into?

“Oh my god!!” Jezebel squeals, as I walk into the
common room of the clubhouse from the hallway. Jumping up down from her chair
at one of the high top tables, she leaves Bulk with their son and scrambles
across the room. Throwing herself at me, she wraps her arms around my neck
pulling me into the most enthusiastic hug I think I’ve ever had. I, of course,
hug her right back with just as much affection.

“Oh my fucking God,” she shrieks again, her chin on my
shoulder.

I flinch in pain, from her loud ass
mouth belting into my ear.

“Calm down,” I scold.

“Oh shit, sorry,” she laughs, acting as coocoo as a damn bird.

We step back from our embrace. Just as I thought,
thanks to her outburst, the entire club is now gaping at us. Or more
specifically, me, as I stand here still wearing Big’s t-shirt over a pair of my
maternity jeans with my feet covered in a pair of funky pink slipper socks. You
know, the ones with the grippies on the bottoms? Yeah, I kinda have a sock
obsession, aside from my combat boot one. Funky and fuzzy is my sock motto.

“I heard you were still here,” Debbie announces, as
she too strolls up to our growing Sacred Sister huddle.

“Yeah, I was hoping what Tripper said was true,” Candy
Cane says, stepping up next to me and patting my arm for moral support.

“What’s shakin’?” Viper teases, sliding up to my side,
opposite of Candy Cane, and throwing his arm over my shoulder. This boy never
learns.

Pixie is next to corral into our middle of the club
huddle. “Good to see you,” she smiles.

“Sooo,” I drawl. “What’s goin’ on today?”

The last thing I want to do is divulge the whole
Marshall, Marylou, Bink, Big, baby Harley debacle. I need a little more time to
kind of come to terms with me being home for good. The rest of the drama and
shit is just going to have to wait to settle in when I get enough time to
process it. The three orgasms this morning prior to the Marylou shit and a nap
afterward was already enough to wrap my head around. I’m only one damn woman,
for cryin’ out loud.

After I woke up from the nap, Big was no longer
holding me. He was in the living room on the phone talking club shit. I padded
my way over to him, crawled into his lap, and snuggled into his chest. He kept
talking business into his cell as his free hand rubbed my bare legs. When he
was done, my back was dropped onto the couch, my shorts stripped down my legs,
and I didn’t even get a chance to protest before Big’s mouth was covering my
pussy, eating me like I was the best thing he’d ever tasted. I came twice. I
never knew I could come that many times in one single day, and the day isn’t
over. Seems as though Big is trying to make up for lost time. Not that you’ll
hear me complaining. I went long enough without orgasms. The more, the merrier
as far as I’m concerned. What can I say? I’m a horny bitch.

Once I floated back down to earth from those earth-shattering
climaxes, Big walked me to the front of his house where Kitty and Black Betty
sat in pristine condition in the driveway. Big had parked them there while I
was napping.

“Where’d you store ‘em?” I asked, running my hand over
the sleek handlebars of my precious Hog.

“In my garage,” Big jerked his chin at his two-car
garage door. “Your apartment shit is in there too.”

“What?” I shifted to face him, my hand resting on
Black Betty’s seat. “I told Gunz to donate the stuff to Salvation Army.”

And I did. When I moved to Chicago, I
had no idea if I was ever going to return, and I didn’t want to deal with it.
It’s just stuff. I knew Gunz wouldn’t throw out anything important that he came
across. The rest of the junk isn’t of any importance to me. You can always get
a new couch, new cookie sheets, or a new bed. I told him to donate it.
Apparently, like the pains in the ass that they are, they didn’t listen. Go
figure.

“Well he didn’t. I had the boys move
your stuff into my garage,” Big clarified, standing a few feet away, his
shoulder leaning against Kitty, who was looking beautiful as ever. Someone had
polished and waxed her. She gleamed with bright pink perfection, welcoming her
mama home.

“Why? What if I never came back?” I
asked, standing in Big’s driveway, barefoot and hoping we weren’t about to
lapse into another argument. I could feel my temper flaring. It’s not hard for
me to get pissed at him, especially when he doesn’t listen to a lick of what I
say.

“You would come back. We knew it. I couldn’t
let it go just in case you needed it, or someone else could use it. You know
we got other houses we furnish, and I figured if you didn’t want it back, I’m
sure somebody else could make use of it,” he explained, eradicating my temper
one word at a time.

Big and this sweetness thing is
something I’m going to have to learn to embrace in an intimate manner. Big’s
always been careful and loving towards me in a controlled way, but this goes
way beyond the things he did for me when I was a kid. Or should I rephrase
that? The things I
remember
he
did for me when I was a kid.

We talked a few more minutes before I
sat in Kitty, turned her over, and listened to her purr like a kitten as she
and mama got reacquainted. Big sat in her passenger seat with me, his hand on
my knee the whole time. It gave me that gooey feeling all over again, and those
butterflies re-appeared. I’ve really got to get used to that.

“Let’s hit the clubhouse,” Big said,
after I’d spent fifteen minutes trying not to cry with joy at having a huge
chunk of my life back. The life that doesn’t include faking who I am but
embracing me. It felt amazing. No, it felt fan-fucking-tastic.

We got out of the car, and Big pulled
her back into the garage. I tried to roll Black Betty in, only to be reprimanded
for trying to roll a heavy ass motorcycle while pregnant. Needless to say, I
let Big win that one. Better to be safe than sorry.

When he finished re-covering Black
Betty next to his three motorcycles, who are incidentally named Ruby, Emerald,
and Onyx, Big threaded his fingers through mine, and we strolled up to the compound
to the clubhouse, hand-in-hand, like we’d been doing it for years.

Walking into the back door of the clubhouse, Big escorted me to my bedroom and kissed me stupid with tongue, fingers, and growling, before he headed to his office. I felt so dazed from the kiss that I needed a little shove into my bedroom before he left to get on with work stuff for the day. I went inside and headed straight for my phone that was in my suitcase set on silent. I had seven texts, and this is when stuff started to get real interesting.

Marshall: That was quite a dance.
Since when is it okay for another man to have his hand on your butt? I’m not a
happy camper, Eva, and I have no idea where you are. Get back to me ASAP. We
need to talk.

Marshall: You’ve been gone two hours, and nobody knows where you are. I’m worried. Text me if you get this. Love you.

Marshall: I’ve had enough. You want to give me a cold shoulder Eva and run off with a man old enough to be your dad, then so be it. I’m tired of waiting; I’m going to sleep.

Marshall: It’s morning, and you’re
nowhere to be found. Where are you?

Marshall: Big told me you’re safe, and that you’re staying behind. Maybe it’s for the best. It’s obvious from being here that this place is where you belong. Everyone here loves you, including Big. We talked, and I told him the baby isn’t mine. I know it’s not my place to discuss your secrets, and I’m sorry. I wish you the best. I’m leaving soon. If you want to work this out, get with me before I leave. If not, I wish you the best of luck.

Marshall: By the time you’ve gotten
this, you’ll have known that I left. I miss you already. Please come home to
me. I didn’t mean what I said. I get the feeling you don’t care for your mom
and sisters much, and I’ll never speak to them again if that means you come
home to me. I love you.

Marshall: Eva, I’m home now. The apartment is empty without you. Even your side of the bed smells like you, but it feels so cold. I need you to come home. We can work this out. I will learn to accept the biker lifestyle, and I’ll even buy a motorcycle if that’s what you want. I can’t take this. I need you. Please don’t forget about me. Please don’t give up on us. I will do anything you ask, just come home. I promise we can make love. I shouldn’t have held out on you. I was still mad at myself about what I did to you when I was drunk, and now I know I took it out on you. Call me. Text me. Or come home.

I read them one right after other.
For the first time in my life I didn’t feel remorse, like I knew I should have.
I felt at peace. I felt free. Free to be myself. And it felt amazing.

I texted Marshall back.

Me: I’m sorry you left before I got to say goodbye. I
will miss you, and I will always be grateful for the times we shared and all
the help that you provided. You are a great man, and you deserve an even
greater woman. A woman who is like you and can be herself with you. I realized
while being home that I belong here. It’s my home and has always been this way.
Being away has only confirmed it even more for me. I don’t regret the time we
spent together, and I will always hold a special place in my heart for you.
You truly are a wonderful person, but my heart could never be yours. And for
that I’m sorry. You deserve better. I wish you well.

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