MC Chronicles: The Diary of Bink Cummings: Vol 2: (Motorcycle Club Romance Novel) (30 page)

Dropping the towel to the ground, I
dress in my appointed attire.

“Come get some grub, Sugar Tits,” Big yells down the
hall as I finish pulling the boxers to the base of my pumpkin belly.

“I’ll be right there.”

The sound of nails scratching on the floor behind me
has me turning around to see a happy go lucky Pretzel standing just inside the
bedroom doorway, wagging his tail.

“Did dad feed you some bacon, boy?” I ask my pups on my way out the door. Pretzel follows on my heels down the hall and into the living room/kitchen area. We both stop and watch the most handsome man in existence pulling bacon out of a skillet, shirtless, with his damp hair tied in a low man bun and his jeans hung loose on his thick hips. What a sexy sight.

“Bacon and pancakes?” I comment, taking a step toward
the tiny two-person table set right off the small basement kitchen.

“Yeah, take a seat,” he replies, turning around and
giving me a dirty smirk before laying the bacon on the table and pulling out a
chair for me. “Sit,” he pats the backrest.

I comply, and he pushes my chair
under the table just a bit and bends down to kiss my forehead. The butterflies
make an appearance as my insides quiver from his sweetness. He grabs the
pancakes and syrup before taking the other seat. The seat, like I had thought,
looks like it might collapse under his weight.

Serving ourselves pancakes and bacon,
we sit and watch each other eat in silence. Each time he bites into his crisp
bacon, his penetrating eyes appraise me.

“What?” I ask, after umpteenth time of being watched.
It’s kind of making me feel self-conscious, and I never feel self-conscious. I
could normally give two shits what people think. I care about what he thinks,
even if I shouldn’t.

“Nothin’,” he shakes his head, as if by shaking his
head, I’ll stop pestering him.

Fat chance.

“Just say it.”

“Nope,” he blurts before taking a drink of his milk.
“I don’t wanna ruin this.” His hand reaches out to gesture between the two of
us, a piece of bacon in his grasp. Then he takes a bite, tearing it with his
teeth, with his glittery sated eyes on mine.

“You’re gonna ruin it, if you don’t spill.” The last
thing we need right now is secrets. I’ve had enough of those bitches to last a
lifetime.

Big stands from the table without a word and saunters
barefoot down the hall. Moments later, he returns with a cut in his hand.
Standing at the edge of the table, he holds out the cut and flips the leather
around to show me the back where a rocker bar patch says ‘Property of’ and at
the bottom below the S.S.M.C patch is Big Dick’s name. Turning it back to the
front, my eyes widen when the name patch reads ‘Bink’ in hot pink lettering.

“What’s that?” I nod toward the cut.

He raises a sarcastic brow, “What’s it look like?”

“It looks like you’ve lost your damn mind if you think
I’m wearin’ that thing,” I blurt, unable to take my eyes from my name that is
embroidered on the chest.

“Oh, you’re gonna wear it,” he demands, taking a step in
my direction, closing the space between us. I could reach out and nearly touch
him.

“Uh, no,” I shake my head defiantly at his orders and
lean back in my chair, tucking my arms over my breasts. “I don’t think so.”

“You’re my old lady, and you’re carryin’ my baby.
After you ran out on me and took my fuckin’ kid with ya, you ain’t got a
choice. You’re not leavin’ and you’re mine, so take the fuckin’ cut or I’ll
make you.”

You’ve got to be shittin’ me. Does he really think
this is gonna work?

Perking up an inquisitive brow, I tilt my head to the
side, assessing his stupidity. “Is that a threat?” I snip.

“
Nuh-ooo, Sugar
Tits,”
he drawls. “It’s a promise.”

Whatever.

He keeps at it, “I dunno why you’ve
always gotta be such a pain in the balls. I love you.
Dammit
. There, I’ve said it
again.
Even if I am still fuckin’ pissed
about everything else that went down. None of that shit matters anymore. You’re
here. Now wear the damn cut.” He tosses it into my lap.

Glancing down, my blood boils, and I
sneer at the leather before shoving it onto the floor with a huff. Big leers at
me in frustration. I remain seated and watch as the steam begins to billow from
the control freak’s ears.

You’d think the bastard would learn that just because
I’m not fighting to leave doesn’t mean I’ve agreed to be his. Did I miss him?
Fuck yeah, I did. Am I happy my secret is no longer a secret? Yeah, of course.
I’m not some man’s old lady just because he says so. I don’t work that way, and
you’d have thought he had gotten that damn memo when I left in the first place.
Guess not.

“Why?” he lowly grunts. “Why in the hell do you have
to be such a bitch? Can’t you see I’m tryin’ here? I’m tryin’ not to stay
pissed, but you’re makin’ it hard,” he sighs, deflated.

He continues, “You think I liked
havin’ you leave me? Or findin’ out you’re knocked up? It was hard enough not
to come after ya in the first fuckin’ place and drag your ass home kickin’ and
screamin’. But I didn’t. Gunz was the only reason you weren’t back here in
September, like you shoulda been. I shouldn’t have listened to him when he said
you’d come home; it took too damn long. But he fuckin’ promised me that shit.
And said we’d keep ya here once you drove back through those gates on your own.
Now you’re home and we are gonna be together, whether you like it or not! I’ve
waited long enough. This ain’t on your time
anymore
,
Sugar Tits, it’s on mine. I’ve played it your way, and I’ve paid for it. Never
again.” He eyes the cut at my feet. “Now pick up that goddamn cut that I bought
for you six years ago, and put it on,” he forcefully points to the pile of
leather.

I’m not moving. He can kiss my ass.

“No,” I state decisively. Just because I am home
doesn’t mean he gets to own and control me. If he wants this to work, we have
to start out in a whole new way. Him ordering me around isn’t gonna be it. Some
men never learn.

“Yes,” he growls dementedly, as the muscles in his
arms constrict, and he fists his hands inflexibly at his sides. Big’s jaw
locks, and he grinds his teeth together in anger. I can tell he’s just about
ready to lose it. Maybe I can get him to cool down before the shit storm
activates.

“I’ll make you a deal,” I kindly
offer, keeping my tone level. He’s lucky I’m nice enough to try and work this
out. I know I want him. The question is, can he keep me? Now that’s a damn
conundrum.

“What kinda deal?” his shoulders relax, and his hands
open at his sides.

Maybe I
can
make him chill out before this gets worse.

“I’ll sleep in your bed three nights a week, and I’ll
help at the club. But you can’t sleep with anyone else, no Marylou, no whores,
no one except me. If you prove you can keep your cock to yourself and treat me
like a damn person and not your fuckin’ possession, then maybe, just maybe,
I’ll consider bein’ your old lady.” I’m not relenting on this; it’s my way or
the highway.

By the crease in his forehead and the flaring of his
nostrils, I can tell this isn’t what he wants to hear.

“Not good enough,” he snaps and crosses his arms over his chest. The firmness of his exposed pecs press up, and I chew my inner cheek at the sight of his perfect body. Even angry, he’s a woman’s wet dream.

Stop thinking like
that Bink. You’ve gotta stay pissed.

“What the hell do you mean it’s not good enough?
That’s all you’re gonna get,” I try to sound uncompromising. However, I fall
short when my eyes travel down his body and hone in on the erection that hugs
the inside of his pant leg. How can he be hard at a time like this? And how can
I be wet? Didn’t we just finish fucking like an hour ago? Damn, I want him
again.

“I want you in my bed every fuckin’ night, and you can
be damn sure I won’t be touchin’ another woman as long as you’re mine. And you
better agree not to touch another man, which includes Deke and Viper.”

Tossing my head back, looking at the ceiling, I bark a
sarcastic laugh. “You think I’d need another man to satisfy me? You have lost
your mind. I can’t even handle the man I got, let alone another one.” Why in
God’s name would I want another man when Big is way more than I’ve ever
bargained for? That is just ridiculous.

“Say it again,” he commands.

I look at him, my nose bunching in confusion. “Say
what again?”

“That I’m your man.”

Sinisterly, I grin, “Well you are, aren’t you?”

“Hell yeah I am,” he growls under his breath,
advancing on me. Reaching under my arms, he lifts me effortlessly from the
chair and picks me up. I wrap my legs around his waist.

Carrying me over to the kitchen
counter, he tosses the egg carton to the side before dropping my ass on the
countertop.

Threading his fingers through the
sides of my hair, he pulls me closer and dips his head to brush his lips across
mine. “These are mine,” he softly growls, teasing me with the warmth of his
lips. Poking out his tongue, he sweeps the seam of my mouth, and I moan in my
throat, savoring the overwhelming sensation that shoots to my toes.

How is he such a fucking sex God?

Releasing one side of my hair, he uses his hand to run up my thigh into my gaping boxers. His other hand fists my hair, sharply jerking my head back to offer my mouth up to him. Pressing his lips firmly to mine, I tighten my legs around his waist, holding him close. I squirm when I feel the rough pad of his finger feed its way up my boxers to the cleft of my pussy.

“What do you want?” he breathes against my lips.

“What do
you
want?” I turn the tables and briefly peck his lips. I don’t think I’ll ever
get enough of them. They’re full and juicy and delicious. And
shit
, this man knows how to use them.

“I want you comin’ on my dick screamin’ my name.” His finger glides between my pussy lips and flicks my clit.

I shudder an ecstasy-laden breath to his mouth. My
body trembles in his arms.

“That’s it,” he breathes to my mouth, his finger
coaxing my clit to harden. Scraping his nail over the hood, I cry out when it
comes in direct contact with his demanding finger.

He continues, “I want you in my bed and your pussy in
my mouth every fuckin’ morning.” He nips my bottom lip with his teeth. “Yeah?”
he lowly growls.

“Yeah,” I murmur, agreeing.

“I want you on the back of my bike, livin’ in my
house, havin’ my daughter. I wanna own all your smiles and only see you cry
when you’re happy. I wanna die in your arms because it’s the only fuckin’ place
I’ve ever truly lived,” he says decisively, as if he doesn’t even have to think
about it. He knows what he wants. How is that possible?

“Big,” I mutter, full of emotions. I close my eyes to
keep the tears at bay.

“Yeah, Sugar Tits?” he smiles to my mouth. I can’t see
it, but I can feel it.

Before I can speak, Big glides his finger inside me,
forcing me to whimper with pleasure.

“I can promise you this,” he says curling his finger
up, hitting my g-spot.

Fu-ck.

“This pussy is only ever gonna be
mine. And…” he thrusts his hips, emphasizing his next point, “this Big Dick,
both my mind and my cock, is only ever gonna be yours. Even if you’re bein’ a
bitch or pissin’ me off or makin’ me sleep on the couch, like I know all you
fuckin’ women do. Even if you can’t stand the sight of me and wanna kick my
ass, like I’m sure you wanted to do last night when I locked ya in the
basement. I did it for your own good. Just as I always do shit that’s for your
own good. I’ll never take you for granted. I never have before. And now that
you’re my old lady –”

I open my mouth to protest.

“Don’t,” he warns, and that shuts me
right up. I can’t believe he’s saying all of this. This is just nuts. Emotional
and nuts. Even though I’m a chick, I don’t do emotions well. I’ve never been in
love in my entire life until now, and this is a shit load to handle. That and
being pregnant with jumbled hormones makes this even more difficult to swallow.
Like a million times harder.

“I know you don’t think you’re my old
lady because you ain’t wearin’ my property cut and this is newer to ya. But
you’ve been my old lady in my heart since you were eight-fuckin-teen, so a cut
don’t mean a goddamn thing to me. Neither does you havin’ to come ‘round to it.
You’ve been mine a long damn time, and I’m not gonna waste another day hearin’
you say otherwise. So if I gotta, I’ll lock you in this basement all damn day,
come down to sleep with ya every night, and eat that hot pussy until you’re
screamin’ my name. You can bet your ass, I’ll do that shit. You don’t wanna be
locked down here, now do ya?”

I shake my head, my lips brushing
back and forth across his with each turn of my head.

“I didn’t think so,” he smiles to my
mouth again.

Big waits a few beats, and we lull
into a dense silence. I can’t help but wonder if he is allowing me to adjust to
what he said. The air around us thickens with an overwhelming sensation of love
and finality. I try to breathe and not freak out from all that I’ve learned in
less than twenty-four hours—Big basically buying me from my mom, to
truly finding out my namesake, to being locked in a basement with my dog that I
missed, to waking up this morning with a man’s hand around my throat. That same
man I’m somehow coming to terms with about this seriously fucked up
relationship we’re apparently going to try to build. A relationship I think I
can do. I dunno. I’ve never done the love thing. I’ve done the monogamy and the
relationship shit. But my heart’s never been a factor in any of it. I feel out
of my league. Like way, way, way out of my league. Like floating on a raft in
the middle of the ocean without a paddle kind of shit.