Perfect Collision (29 page)

I was disturbingly familiar with that smile. He used it every chance he got with even remotely hot women. Like the school counselor when she tried to talk to him about my lack of friends. It had been very weird, but I think she understood a lot more about me after meeting him.

“She
is
a tattoo artist,” he said and winked at the nurse.

“Dad! Could you not do that while I'm bleeding?”

“You're not bleeding anymore,” Mac pointed out, and Dad started to laugh again, but he stopped ogling the nurse.

“
You
might be bleeding soon if you don't shut up,” I said to Mac.

“I'm fine with that. I thought he was gonna beat the shit outta me,” he nodded towards Dad. “A stitch for stitch sort of thing.”

“I hate you both right now.” I looked at the doctor. “Any chance I might have to stay the night?”

She shook her head with an apologetic smile. “Sorry."

Later, when we were back out in the waiting room, and Dad was sorting out the insurance and the bill, Mac took my hand.

“We okay?”

“I don't know...” I was too tired to even think about it.

“At the risk of pissing you off again, the only time you're really childish is when you're arguing you're not young.” That did piss me off, but mostly since I had a feeling he was right. “I did my obsessing about your age before we hooked up. Which means that if it had bothered me, we wouldn't have hooked up.”

“It
did
bother you, and you didn't want to hook up.”

“Is that why you worry?”

“Maybe,” I mumbled. He pulled me closer to lean on his shoulder.

“Only thing that makes me think about it is that I sometimes worry I'm pushing you. Or that you're pushing yourself, because you think I care about your age. So when you're acting like that, I get more worried. I know you're younger, I'm okay with it, and I'm not in any hurry about us. You can pull the brake whenever you need, and it won't make me dump you.”

“Okay.” I looked at him and stroked the bridge of his nose with my thumb. “You're not pushing me, we're not doing anything I'm not comfortable with, and I'm still a bit pissed about you and Dad laughing at me.”

“You know, a fight ending with stitches could mean the make-up sex of the century.”

“Really think that's such a good idea?” I said while pointing at my foot.

“Yeah, you're probably right.”

Dad came over and handed me the crutches.

“I'm not using those.”

“I'll duct tape these fucking crutches to your hands if I see you hobbling around without them, Katze.”

He probably would. I glared at him, but eventually sighed. I couldn't win; not when he had that look on his face.

“Can I ride on your back now? I'll use them tomorrow.”

“Sure,” he said before handing the crutches to Mac and then turning around. “Hop up.”

I stood up, grabbed his shoulders, and jumped up on his back. I used to love piggyback riding when I was a kid.

“Where are we going?” he asked as we walked outside. “Home or Mac's?”

I looked at Mac who was walking next to us and waving my crutches around.

“You okay with me going home? You can pick me up for breakfast tomorrow.”

“Yeah. I'll give you a lift, though. Bear has his bike, and you can't bring the crutches on it.”

“She shouldn't be on a bike until she's healed up,” Dad said. “That includes your bike,” he added with a look at Mac, who nodded.

No rides and crutches. The coming weeks would be awesome. As far as I was concerned, it was all Ronny James Dio's fault.

Momentum: You're Done With This

-o0o-

I'D DONE IT! WHILE
standing in front of all the parents receiving my diploma, I silently swore to myself that I would never ever put my foot inside a building belonging to the US educational system again. Not fucking ever!

It was summer, I'd gotten rid of the crutches and stitches a few weeks earlier, Mac and I were fine, and Dad still refused to think about what he was eating. But things were good.

And now they were getting even better.

I had my diploma; I'd kept my deal with Dad and Sami. I might need it when applying for temporary tattooing licenses in other states, but I still thought I was in the minority when it came to tattoo artists who had a high school diploma. I was the only one at Wicked Ink who had one.

I very much doubted a costumer would ever ask me if I had it, and I knew I couldn't spell for shit—diploma or not. I told all my customers I had dyslexia, and made sure they triple-checked any spelling on the stencil before I put it on their skin.

I had the weekend off, but the following Monday I'd be working full time just as the other artists. Ironically, I was the only one in my class who already had a well paid job lined up.

Dad picked me up in a long hug when he saw me.

“So fucking proud of you. You're done with this. It's over.”

“I know!”

Mac was the next one. “Love you,” he mumbled, and he didn't seem to want to let go of me.

We went to the clubhouse, and I was surprised to see Lisa there.

“I'm so proud of you!” she yelled while running towards me, and I was trying to wrap my head around the fact that she was in the state!

“What are you doing here?”

“It's your graduation,” she laughed. “You're done with school. That's something to celebrate, and there's no way in hell I'd miss it!”

“Okay,” I agreed. “Thank you!

It was a nice party. I even drank some, which I usually never did. My brain was a storm of thoughts even normally, and when I drank it became a hurricane. It was confusing and made me tired. So Mac took me to his dorm when I asked him, and we lay next to each other just talking for a while. Suddenly I felt him shake my shoulder while laughing.

“You fell asleep
while
I was talking to you.”

“Sorry,” I mumbled and put my arm around him.

“No worries, it was just... weird.” He gave my forehead a kiss. “Go to sleep, again. I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

The last thing going through my head was that I was done with school. I wasn't a schoolgirl anymore. This was when things would get started.

-o0o-

Icing. Bear didn't know shit about icing, and Vi had sent him to get it. She was making a birthday cake for Mac. The kitchen was a mess, and she was acting like a mini-Hitler—yelling while waving ladles and whisks around.

He got it. She wanted to make it perfect for Mac's birthday, and he assumed it was kind of... sweet. But when her being sweet meant he ended up in the aisle for baking goods—he had a problem with it. He was definitely the only one with a dick in that aisle, and the other women stared at him as if he was a psycho killer looking for his next victim.

He was standing by the shelf, staring at the different types of icing, and had no idea what Vi wanted. She'd mentioned chocolate, but he saw several different types of chocolate icing, and he didn't know what kind she wanted.

“Hi,” he heard next to him, and when he turned around he was face to face with a very hot blonde.

“Hey, there,” he said.

He wasn't sure who she was. He wondered if she was a sweetbutt and desperately tried to remember if he'd fucked her. He didn't think so. He would remember fucking her, and she didn't look like a sweetbutt. She was much too... well, she wasn't giving him the 'fuck me' looks. She just smiled nicely. The way you smiled when you met someone you sort of knew.

“How's your daughter doing?”

“Fine.” Definitely not a sweetbutt; they never asked about Vi. They wouldn't dare. “She's doing good.”

“And the foot healed up okay?”

That's when he remembered, she was the nurse with the
very
nice ass, and he smiled. “Yeah. I managed to get her to use the crutches, so it didn't take long.”

“Impressive,” she said.

“Yeah... I threatened to duct tape them to her hands if I saw her without them.”

That made her laugh, and he liked that. She obviously had a sense of humor. She held out her hand, and when he took it she fired off a big smile. Something very close to a 'fuck me' smile.

“I'm April. I don't think I introduced myself the last time we saw each other.”

“I'm Bear.” He held on to her hand a few seconds longer than necessary. “Nice to see you again.”

“Yes, nice to see you, too.”

It looked like she was about to leave, and to keep conversation going he pointed at the shelf with icing on it. “You wouldn't know anything about icing?”

“Depends on what you're going to use it on,” she said and winked at him.

Oh, this was his sort of woman!

-o0o-

Vi came by with a cake the day before his birthday. She wanted them to celebrate together before the big party at the clubhouse, and Mac didn't have a problem with that. The cake had chocolate icing, and since it was a cake for just the two of them, he ran his finger through it to get a taste.

“Do I get the gift now or tomorrow?” he asked when he dipped the finger in the icing for the second time and then held it in front of her mouth. She smiled and licked it.

“You'll get it now, and I booked you a full day next weekend. Thought I'd do some work on you.”

“Awesome. You didn't have to buy me anything.”

“It's nothing big.” She held up a small gift. “I was gonna buy you a necklace with a pig fetus in it, but I didn't think you'd like that.”

“No. Please, no dead animal jewelry.”

“Such a bore,” she smiled.

Since her graduation, she'd seemed so relieved. She still worked a lot, but it didn't bother him all that much anymore. He wanted her happy, and she was happy.

He opened it and laughed. It was a keychain and had a small tattoo machine hanging from it.

“Thought you should have something to remember me by.”

He lifted her up and put her on the kitchen island.

“Have I ever told you how fucking hot I think it is that you're a tattoo artist?

“A few times.”

“Good, because it still totally turns me on.”

She put her arms around him, and gave him light kisses over his cheeks and jawline. “I think we should get a piece of the cake each and take it with us to bed.”

“Think we should. Thought I'd show you some things with icing. Like licking it off your nipples.”

She blushed, but looked eager. Then he took his girl and his cake to bed and showed her how much fun icing could be.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN:

I Don't Do Flowers

-o0o-

BEAR HAD HER ON
her knees leaning against the backrest of the armchair in his living room. He was slamming into her while teasing her ass with his thumb. He really hoped she'd let him in there this time.

The woman on his armchair was April, the nurse. They'd gotten stuck among the icing for a good twenty minutes before Vi'd called him and asked him where the fuck he was. He'd taken a shot and given April his number. He hadn't even left the store before he got a text from her.

It'd started out as casual fun, but the last few weeks he'd taken it a bit more serious. She was something else, and instead of getting some at the clubhouse that night he'd called her.

He had no idea how serious she was taking it, and at the moment he was mostly thrilled she liked his finger up her ass, because it meant there was a much bigger chance he'd get his dick up there.

It wasn't as if he wanted it anal every time he had sex, but he wanted it on occasion. That was just one of the ways he and Ella had been all wrong for each other. She'd made it very clear it would never happen. He was a biker, he liked sex, he liked anal, and if his wife wasn't giving it, it was easy for him to get it somewhere else. It might be a bit hypocritical, since he would've killed her if she'd done the same thing, but that's how it worked.

Even if there would be no A action during the current fuck, it was still pretty damn good. He was holding on to April's shoulder with one hand, pulling her against him, and his other hand's thumb was pumping her ass. Her back was shaped like a cello with all its soft curves. When her blonde hair fell over his hand, he grabbed it and pulled to make her arch back. It made the curves even sexier.

“God damn it, you're hot,” he mumbled and felt her clench around his dick.

When he let go of her hair, she looked at him over her shoulder and gave him a very sexy smile. “You're gonna have to get some lube to get up there.”

He leaned over her and licked her earlobe. “You okay with me going up there?”

“Just be gentle.” Then she winked. “To begin with.”

He was damn close to coming from that comment. He pulled out of her to go get some lube and more condoms.

“Do
not
fucking move,” he said as he walked to his bedroom.

And she didn't. When he came back out she was still on her knees, leaning her elbows on the backrest. He started to lube her up, and she groaned. 'Jackpot,' went through his head as he pressed two fingers inside her, and she moved to meet them. She liked it, and he felt her starting to loosen up. He put his hand on the backrest next to her elbow.

“Ready, baby?”

“Oh, yes.”

As he gently pushed inside, he closed his eyes. She was taking deep breaths; this woman knew what she was doing. She was relaxed, took deep breaths, and held a hand on his hip to indicate when he needed to halt and let her get used to him.

They were both quiet as he started to move. Slowly at first. When he was all the way inside of her, he leaned over her, put his arm around her neck, and buried his face in her hair.