MC Chronicles: The Diary of Bink Cummings: Vol 2: (Motorcycle Club Romance Novel) (33 page)

I turned off my phone and washed up in the bathroom
before putting on a bit of makeup. I didn’t even try to cover the marks on my
neck. They’re too dark to fix anyhow. Then I slid on a clean pair of red lace
panties, pants, and shirt. Here I am now, standing in the common room, Viper’s
arm over my shoulder, with my family huddled around.

“We saw Gunz carrying Marshall’s bag to his car this
morning,” Debbie explains, wearing a pair of jeans and bright orange t-shirt
that looks great with her brown hair and complexion.

“Big locked me in his basement last night,” I explain.

All my Sacred Sister’s eyes get huge, and Viper snorts
a deep laugh beside me.

“He did not,” Jezebel sounds astonished, with her hand resting on her jean-clad hip, eyes wide, and pink lips parted in surprise.

I bob my head. “Yeah, yeah he did. I pounded on the
door for probably close to an hour. Nobody came. I ended up sleepin’ in Big’s
bed with Pretzel.”

“So that’s where you went,” Candy Cane says, brushing
errant strands of her red hair to the side with the sweep of her hand. “We saw
you leave with Big, then fifteen minutes later he returns to the table, and you
were nowhere to be seen. I think Jez even asked where ya went, and he said you
went to bed.”

“Yeah I did, and yeah he did,” Jezebel confirms.

“What else happened last night?” I ask because I
haven’t had a chance to really talk with Big about anything other than us.

“We danced, got drunk, and there was a late night
buffet with all kinds of snacky foods. The boys played Euchre most of the night
with Big. Deke kicked most people’s asses at that game. He’s like a card shark
or something. Even when he’s three sheets to the wind….” Candy Cane rattles on
and stops talking when the sounds of kids erupt in the room. I glance around
her to see Deke with his daughters entering in through the front doors. Both of
them hesitantly walk in front of their dad; his hands are on their shoulders
for moral support.

I break away from Viper, who grunts in protest, and
head straight for them. As soon as both Cherry and Ginger catch sight of me,
they detach from their dad and come straight for me. I kneel on the ground to
get to their level, and they nearly plow me over, as both sets of their arms
wrap around my neck.

“Hey! Hey!” Deke chastises his girls, and I laugh,
wrapping both of my arms around his curly haired, green-eyed little beauties.
If you didn’t know any better, you’d think they were twins. They both look
exactly alike. Even though one of them isn’t biologically Deke’s, you couldn’t
tell.

“How are you girls?” I ask, hugging them to me and
tucking my nose into Cherry’s floral scented hair.

“We’re good,” they answer simultaneously.

Releasing them from the hug, I stay kneeling, and they
stand close to me. I glance up higher to see an extremely amused Deke staring
down at us.

“Hey Deke,” I greet.

“Hey Bink,” he smirks and reaches down, offering me
his hand. I take it, and he pulls me to stand and straight into his arms. He
hugs me and kisses my temple before releasing me. But it’s not soon enough. The
ferocious growl from that special man in my life slices through the air, as I
hear boots stomp with purpose, coming my way.

I try to spin around just as Big’s hand latches around
my chest, yanking me to him. My back collides with his brawny torso, and his
warm possessive embrace takes hold, like two iron bars strapped across my
chest.

I can feel Big’s lungs pumping air rapidly in and out,
as his chest pistons into my back. His arm muscles stiffen over my chest. I try
to glance up and look over my shoulder, only to be held tighter. Then the
battle of rage begins to rumble in Big’s chest. He’s crossing over into his
beast.

What the hell?

“Big,” I call and gaze up to see Deke’s eyes pointed
like lasers at Big. Apparently we’ve got a seriously problem here.

“Don’t touch her,” Big dementedly cautions Deke, with
fury percolating in his voice.

Oh for Christ sake, this is stupid.

Deke doesn’t speak; his jaw tenses in response. I
can’t believe this is going on with two little girls standing between us. What
is wrong with these idiots? Do they want them to adjust? Or do these assholes
want them to have nightmares, after a mean bastard of a man throws down with
their only family? I’m half tempted to grab them both by the ears like insolent
children and put them in the corner for a time out. They’re acting like
absolute fools.

“Stop this right now!” I fiercely order, driving my
ass backwards into Big’s legs and using my hands to slap at his thighs. Big
doesn’t budge.

Dammit,
this isn’t good. Time to try a
different approach.

“Listen, there are children here. If
you want to act like a bunch of overgrown babies, then fine, take it outside.
And so help me God, if you don’t get a handle on both of your tempers, I will
be forced to kick both of your asses. Trust me, you don’t want a pregnant woman
kicking your ass. It doesn’t bode well for your reputation,” I say, trying to
sound as serious as possible, without letting my temper get the best of me. My
mouth flies away with curse words when my temper takes hold, and I am not going
to curse up a shit storm with two impressionable girls within arm’s reach.

Apparently both men find my threat to be hilarious and
not an ounce serious. My back starts to vibrate when Big begins to laugh. And
it’s not just any laugh; it’s a full body shaking, belting out and gasping for
air laugh. Then Deke joins in. The iron bands around my chest slacken, and Big
grabs my shoulders, turning me around to face him, still laughing.

I don’t think it’s funny one fuckin’
bit. They’re making fun of me.
Assholes.

What in the hell ever happened to the serious, unrelenting control freak? I swear this new Big is nothing I’ve ever seen before. Damn he sure looks gorgeous laughing, with his ice-blue eyes glistening with humor, crinkling at the edges, and his mouth curled up till it nearly reaches his ears. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so happy. That in itself makes me smile, my heart flutter, and my belly warm.

“You’re a jerk,” I snap halfheartedly at him.

“I know,” Big admits, calming his laughter and bending
down to peck my lips.

I don’t hesitate when I wrap my arms
around his neck, pulling his mouth to mine for a better kiss. He takes this
invitation and curls his arms around my middle, lifting me onto my tippy toes
and devouring my lips. I go lightheaded when Big’s tongue tangles with mine,
and his one hand slides down my back, grabbing a handful of my plush ass. I
groan to his mouth, seeking more, and he gives it to me. He kisses me hard and
fierce until my toes curl, my pussy becomes sopping wet, my nipples tingle, and
I’m left breathless, unable to form a coherent thought or a single word.

Holy-wow-wow-wow.

Big pulls away, dazed with a lazy grin. Both of us are
left panting for breath and staring into each other’s eyes.

Then it hits me. My shoulders tense.
Shit!
I just made out with Big in front of
two impressionable children. Dear God save me now, I’m going to go to hell.

When I turn my head and look down, Deke is still
there, but both of his daughters are nowhere to be seen.

“Wh—ere’s?” my word comes out choppy.

“Candy Cane took ‘em to her place for ice cream as
soon as you two started. Don’t worry, they didn’t see,” he explains with a
smirk and knowing wink.

My shoulders deflate, and I expel a whoosh of air as I
sigh. Thank you Candy Cane, I dodged that bullet.

Big kisses my nose, tells me loves me, and lets me go,
turning around to head back to the hall. Three of the bothers that were seated
at the bar get up and follow after him, including Viper.

Deke stays rooted in place, and I
swing to face him.

“Sorry about that,” I mutter, curling my arms around
my belly.

“It’s no problem, Bink. Looks like you two have worked
your shit out. That’s good. I hear that you’re stayin’. It’ll be nice to have
someone I know here,” Deke explains with a genuine smile, stuffing his hands
into his front jean pockets and rocking back on his boot heels.

“Yeah,” I nod. “I’m not really sure how all this shit
is gonna work. But I’m here for the long haul, as long as he doesn’t piss me
off enough to leave again.”

He nods like he understands, and the Sacred Sisters
file over to hang with Deke and I.

“Hey, Deke,” Jezebel greets, sizing him up and not
even trying to hide it.

Yeah I know he’s hot. Like smokin’ hot, but she’s
gotta cool her jets and take a cold shower if need be.

“Do you know Jezebel?” I ask him, thumb pointing to
her.

“Yeah, I met ‘em all,” he explains, then lifts his
eyes to greet everyone else. “Hey ladies, what’s shakin’?” he asks, grinning,
which is enough to make your legs go wobbly.

I swear I hear Pixie do a little cutesy squeal under
her breath, and Jezebel doesn’t even try to hide her attraction when she
blatantly licks her lips.

“I dunno. What’s shakin’ with you?” Jezebel purrs.

“Don’t even think about it woman,” Bulk, her old man, gruffly demands from across the room, a hint of smile in his voice. He obviously knows his woman well enough to know she crushes on a lot of men. Big used to be one of them until she realized how much of an ass he is. Then there was a brief stint with Viper and then Tripper, which Candy Cane found hilarious. She even offered Jezebel a ride of her own. I heard all about it over one of our expensive phone calls when I was living with Marshall in Chicago. Needless to say, it didn’t take, which I’m happy about. It was funny to listen to though. Jezebel’s just a damn flirt, and I gotta give Bulk credit. He handles her perfectly.

Deke plays into her game and grabs her hand to kiss it
like a gentleman. She blushes before he lets go.

“Deke,” Bulk warns, “Don’t give her any more ammo, or
you’ll never get rid of her. Fuck, I couldn’t if I tried.”

Jezebel flips with attitude, tossing her long hair
over her shoulder, to sneer at her old man. “Whatever,” she snips. “You’re the
one who made me marry you. I didn’t do that, you did.”

“Damn straight,” he brashly announces, bouncing their
son on his knee and smiling at his old lady like she’s the most amazing woman
he’s ever met. In reality, I think he feels that way about her, and she returns
the sentiment, even though she’s a harmless flirt. “You’re mine, whether you
like it or not.”

This makes her turn into goo. I know because it makes
me want to turn into goo. Shit, I’m not even a girl who wants to turn into that
stuff. I just can’t help it. I told ya, I’m chicking out, and that’s not a good
thing.

Jezebel advances on Bulk and pulls her son from his
arms. Hooking Gabe over her hip, she leans over, giving Bulk a sweet kiss as
payment for his comment.

All of us stand around shootin’ the
shit. The club continues to refill with wedding attendees, as they filter in
from the estate houses and rooms in the back. Soon the room is loud and roaring
with life. People migrate in and out of the kitchen, grabbing leftovers for
lunch. I too get a little to snack on.

Gunz waltzes in a little while later
and gets his grandbaby fill, which is him rubbing my belly affectionately
until I get tired of it or he does.

I get a chance to speak with Brew and
Dixie and congratulate them properly with lots of hugs. The beer starts to be
passed around; nothing like getting drunk before dinnertime.

I feel at ease, flitting about the
room and chatting with all of my extended roughneck family, both local and
distant. I even meet a few old ladies from other chapters I’d yet to be
introduced to. Apparently they’ve heard of me though, whatever that’s supposed
to mean. Mickey does a kiss Bink on the cheek fly by, as does Blimp and Jizz,
which surprises the hell outta me, ‘cause Jizz isn’t much for lovey-dovey shit.

I’m standing here gnawing on a carrot like a horse and listening to Dallas ramble on about Punta’s next litter of puppies that are due to be delivered any day now. Punta is Pretzel’s mom, just in case you forgot.

Debbie lapses into a plan of attack
with her old man, her arm curled around his backside, hand stuffed in the back
of his jeans pocket. His does the same, stuffed into the back of hers. You can
definitely tell they’ve been doing this for the past umpteen years.

A frail body bumps into me from behind.

“Sorry,” the tall, old, lanky biker
drunkenly mumbles. I spin around and grab his wrinkled and heavily tatted
forearm in attempt to help him sit down, so he doesn’t hurt himself or somebody
else.

The man whose name patch says Jonesy doesn’t seem to
mind when I guide him through a sea of bikers, over to the corner of the room,
which is obstructed from prying eyes, to the brown 1970’s threadbare couch
that’s well past its prime, and regularly used for wild nights of sex.

Using my chin as a way of communicating for her to get
the hell up so this man can sit down, I jerk my chin at a young blonde woman
who’s sitting on it, playing with her phone. She squints at me in agitation for
just a moment before she grabs her beer off the floor by her foot. She stands,
making room for him, but not before she snaps her gum in my direction and makes
a snotty ‘hmph’ sound in her throat.

Bitch.

Ignoring the bitch, I help the man sit down and hold
him upright so he doesn’t topple over. He’s that drunk already. I glance over
my shoulder and spot some young hunky biker with big beefy arms, a baldhead,
and a baby face. He is wrapped up in some sort of conversation with a cute, curvy
brunette. Or she seems cute; I can only see her juicy ass.

I snap my fingers in his direction
and wave my hand trying to get his attention.

“You who!” I yell over the loud
music.

I know they both can hear me, and he
can see me; they’re only a few feet away. None of my other family is nearby to
help. I left them clear over on the other side of the room, and this place is
packed. It’s him or nothing.