The Diary of Bink Cummings: Vol 1 (MC Chronicles #1) (15 page)

“That was awesome!” Jezebel exclaims, walking behind
me into the common room of the clubhouse, which seems to have livened up
already. Bulk strolls over to us, wearing his cut and blue t-shirt and throwing
his thick beefcake arm over his pregnant wife’s shoulder.

“What’s goin’ on?” He kisses her forehead, and she
blushes ten shades of pink.

“Oh, nothin’. Bink just patched Runner up. Big Dick
mangled his face,” Jezebel tells her husband, wrapping an arm around his lower
back, her head resting on his arm. I would say shoulder, but he’s too tall for
that.

“Ah…those things happen,” Bulk states dismissively,
which is brothers’ code for ‘don’t talk about it.’ At least Bulk knows the
rules.

Gunz joins our small group and it doesn’t take long
for it to grow exponentially. Including Viper, and the ladies old men.

Wrapped up in conversations, we migrate toward the
black rectangular high-top tables that sit next to the bar. At one end, I hike
my butt up onto a padded faux leather stool and the rest follow suit filling
the table. Gunz takes the opposite end. His bald head is covered in a skull
printed bandana and he’s swirling a sucker in his mouth while he talks to Viper
and Bulk, who’ve taken up the seats at the far end close to Gunz. Pixie is to
my right, Debbie to my left. The table is filled to the max with ten full
stools. Tripper, Candy Cane’s old man, being the only one not with his old
lady. It’s nice seeing all of the brothers socializing, not only with their
fellow brothers, but including their old ladies as well. You don’t get to see
that much in the clubhouse. I pray this is a turning point for greater things
to come. Out with the old and in with the new. I’m not as receptive to most
newbies whether they be old ladies, brothers, or whores. I stick to what I
know. It’s safer that way. But I’m beginning to appreciate the newcomers and
brighter future they might bring to the club. Making it more family friendly
and less ‘no girls allowed.’ I’ve heard stories over the years that most
chapters allow old ladies to mingle with the brothers more than Big allows.
Whether he’s like that because of his past, for security reasons, or whatever
else, I hope things change. I like having other women to hang with. Women that
I genuinely like. Trust me, it’s better than having nothing but brothers
surrounding you at all times. I know that might sound appealing to some, to
have a bunch of mouthy, roughneck bikers living and breathing around you 24/7,
but it’s not all it’s cracked up to be. It takes a special kinda person to
handle not only one biker 24/7 but a dozen. I happen to be one of those very
people.

“Soooo.” Gunz speaks loud enough that I can hear him
from across the table, above two of the brothers shooting pool, and the music
blaring AC/DC over the high-tech sound system. The clubhouse may not be the
most up-to-date in terms of décor, considering the place is pretty much a
bachelor pad, devoid of any female touches. Nevertheless, the techy stuff kicks
some serious ass, stereo equipment included. Gunz is an IT genius, and it shows
with how well the compound is under lock and key.

“Sooo?” I respond, resting my elbows on the table.

“Did you?” Gunz’s words waver just a bit. Enough that
I catch it, but I don’t think the rest of the group does. They don’t know him
like I do. Years of experience with the man, and I know how to read him like a
book. Gunz is uncomfortable, looking down the table at me. I know what he’s
hinting toward. Not something I want to discuss nor confess sitting at a table
with four old ladies and five brothers. Some things are better left unsaid.
This is one of those times.

“What I did or didn’t do isn’t up for debate. It
happened.” I try to sound firm yet friendly. But I soon realize I probably come
off too defensive. I really hate this.

“I wasn’t askin’ about that. I already spoke to Big. I
was askin’ about you fixin’ Runner,” Gunz explains.

Oh…

“Well, yeah, of course I did.”

“Is he going to need me to call doc?”

What kind of question is that? Wouldn’t I have said
something if I thought that was necessary?

Frowning, I reply, “Nuh…ooooo… I would have called the
doc if he did. Wouldn’t have been the first time I’ve had to do that.”

My eyes cut to Dallas and he flinches, knowing good
and well I’ve called the doc more times than not when he’s come to me for help.
Dallas has met with Doc more than any of the brothers. Dog bites are notorious
for infection and his are never mild flesh wounds. Our club works with some of
the most intelligent and at times most vicious breeds of dogs that you can
train. They are loyal to a fault once they’ve completed their training. Before
that, it’s up in the air as to which dogs will fall in line and which will
simply be sold without all of their education. Dallas runs them hard and
expects perfection. He treats all of his dogs well and is efficient at knowing
what each dog is capable of. That doesn’t change the fact he is working with an
animal, which he’s learned the hard way too many times for me to keep count.
Dallas’s face, even though it’s handsome, is severely scarred. A pit gripped
his jaw and bit, leaving wicked marks running down both sides of his mouth, and
that isn’t even the worst of it. Dallas’s right calf muscle is missing a chunk
of flesh. Most people assume it’s from a motorcycle accident, but it’s not. He
stupidly tried to break up a Dobie vs. Pit fight and ended up in the hospital
for a week.

“True.” Gunz nods at me, cracking a half sucker filled
smile.

“How about a rounda drinks,” Viper states, getting up
from the end of the table, sauntering rather sexily to the bar and helping
himself to a couple bottles of booze and shot glasses.

“Don’t forget the Jack,” I yell over the music.

Raising Jack in the air and tucking it under his arm,
Viper collects the rest of our drinks and returns to the table, setting the
liquid courage in the middle and sliding shot glasses toward everyone. Even Jezebel,
who opens her mouth to protest until Viper steps next to her with a bottle of
water, sitting it alongside her shot glass.

“Didn’t want you to feel left out,” Viper explains,
and strolls back over to his seat, winking at me before he sits down. “Time for
a drinking game.”

My stomach drops. This could be a good thing or a very
bad thing, I don’t know which. Last night and me drinking didn’t mix well. Although
the thought of possibly washing those vivid memories from my head is enough for
me to grab the Jack and pour myself a shot. Then Pixie helps herself.

“Another Jack girl?” I playfully push at her tattooed
shoulder.

“Yup, only the best,” Pixie brightly replies with a
shy grin, dropping the whiskey to the table and keeping it within arm’s reach.
Smart girl.

“Game’s called, I have never ever,” Viper declares,
and I grimace. I’ve played this game one other time with Gunz, and he found out
some overly personal things about me. “We go around the table stating something
we have never ever done. If someone at the table
has
done it, they take a drink.”

“You’re goin’ down,” Dallas smarts off to Debbie,
growling in a playful manner.

“Fuck off, Dallas, you’re gonna be drunk sooner than I
am.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Oh yes, you are,” I add. “You’re a naughty bastard.”

The whole table bursts into laughter, and Dallas flips
me the bird. I, out of sheer politeness, return the gesture, of course.

“Sorry, Dallas, I think Debbie’d get mad,” I kid,
blowing him a kiss. He catches it with his hand and slaps it on his ass. The
fucker!

“You can have him.” Debbie smacks his arm. “Then maybe
he’ll remember to take out the trash.”

Another spout of laughter consumes the table. This
hasn’t even gotten to the good stuff. Wait until we are all sloppy drunk and
confess some of the nastiest, dirtiest things we’ve done. Oh gee, I can hardly
wait… Not.

“I’ll start,” Viper decides with a full-on grin,
staring down the table at me. “I have never, ever fucked anyone more than ten
years older than me.”

If this is some ploy for me to give up the goods about
Big, then he will be sorely mistaken. I never had sex with Big. Hell, I didn’t
even kiss the man.

Gunz, Jezebel, Debbie, Pixie, and Bulk shoot their
shot. Viper dares me with his eyes to pick up my whiskey, but I don’t even look
at it. I glare at him instead.

“Bink—” Viper beings.

“Oh, cut the crap. They didn’t have sex.” Pixie out of
all the people at the table snaps back at Viper. As soon as she does, Axel
breaks out in hysterical laughter, throwing his arm over his old lady’s shoulder
and leaning over to kiss her cheek. Then the turtle scurries back into its
shell. It’s plainly visible. Her outburst, Viper and the rest of the group’s
shock by it, then her own as reality sets in about what’d she’s just said. She
hunches her shoulders and stares at the table, hands tucked between her thighs.
I don’t hesitate when I reach over and pat her leg, whispering, “It’s okay,”
with a friendly smile. This poor, shy woman needs to loosen up.

“Gunz, your turn,” Viper announces.

“I’ve never, ever sucked a cock.”

That’s an easy one. All of the women take a shot and
the men smirk with triumph. Next…

The table of ten finishes their first round. It is
going to be a long day. I have already drank seven of the first ten shots, and
I am beginning to feel the effects. This shit sucks.

It’s Vipers turn again.

“I have never, ever been in love.” That was a low blow
for the table. Everyone takes a shot besides me and him. I can honestly say I
have never been in love. Me not taking the drink alerts the table of this
little fact about Bink. So I sit up tall and take what’s coming.

“Never?” Gunz is surprised by this, which he shouldn’t
be. When has he ever heard me say I love you to someone other than my family?
Never to a man. I may have dated some boys, and I may have banged a whole
helluva lot more. But I’ve never done the whole love thing. My heart’s never
been broken. I’ve never cried over a relationship. At thirty, I know I’m a
rarity among women because of this. I just don’t give a hoot. It is what it is.
Do I want that kind of love? Yes, I do. Do I want children? Probably. Do I
think all of that is in the cards for me? Not really. And yes, I do envy the
old ladies of this club for having emotionally bonded relationships with their
men, as long as those men know how to keep their dicks in their pants, which
most of the brothers at this table seem to do. I know Candy Cane would kill
Tripper and same goes for Debbie, if either of their men fucked another woman.
I would probably help in holding them down and using one of those livestock
castration tools to chop off their nuts, if they were stupid enough to stray.

Hours pass by and the drinking dwindles to a simmer
once we’ve completed three rounds. This is where I admit to kissing a girl,
once, having hot sex over the hood of a car, and that I genuinely like anal
sex. Granted, I’ve only done it a handful of times because it takes a lot of
trust in a relationship for me to allow it. But when I’ve done it, I came, and
after the initial burning and ache, I loved it. Obviously I don’t exactly
disclose those sorta things at the table; they had learned enough as it is.
Viper has migrated down toward my end of the table, switching seats with Pixie.
She and Jezebel want firsthand information from Gunz about the club and what
it’ll entail for Jez’s little one. Gunz being drunk isn’t taking her as
seriously as he should but is being a sport about it anyhow.

“So…” Viper raises his hands in the air. “You and—”

“Not me and Big!” I interrupt Viper, curling my lip up
in disgust. I don’t get why he is so fucking adamant about this Big shit. Why
does it matter? Ugh!! He’s annoying! What the hell am I kiddin’? Both of them
are!

“Lisssten...” I slur. Woo fuckin’ wee, I am drunk
tonight. “Big plus Bink equals a onetime thingy.”

Viper leans in, the harsh tang of tequila on his
breath, ensnaring my sense of smell. “Then why can’t I fuck you?” A fat,
pierced tongue pokes out of Viper’s mouth and swipes deliciously across his
bottom lip. Holy shit that’s hot.

I too lean in, my nose brushing the tip of his. Our
mouths are mere inches from colliding into a frenzied tongue sucking session.
I’m desperate to know how that little barbell tastes, battling for ownership. Mmmm…
My pussy loves that idea, as it greedily throbs and dampens with wanton anticipation.
Our eyes bore into one another’s. My tongue sweeps the outer edges of my
whiskey-flavored lips.

“Why—” my words are swallowed whole when the world
tilts on axis, and the room blares to life. Aerosmith singing about “Pink” being
their favorite color abruptly cuts off. My spine aligns as I straighten on the
stool, scanning the room corner to corner. The entire club’s fallen dead
silent. My fixation with Viper dries up. The brother’s unlock lips with their
whores and old ladies. The pool balls clunk to an echoing stop.

Wait for it… I take in a deep breath, my heart
thudding erratically against my ribs.

A deafening, five-pulse blare pours violently through
the speakers. Whores and old ladies alike cover their ears as the sounds
ricochet off the walls. I remain stoic, resolute
, strong
. Once the blaring resides, the red emergency lights
flare to life, casting a reddened strobe light to flicker over the common room
and outlying spaces.

Holding my breath, perched on the edge of the seat. I
await what I know is coming next. This is it!

“We are on lockdown…we are on lock down…” Repeats five
times from an automated voice over the sound system. Women are curled into
their tough biker’s sides, their old men providing the comfort they are going
to need in dire circumstances like these. The whores corral themselves into a
corner, offering support among the ranks. A few stragglers stay with their
preferred brother, seeking affection and strength. I sit alone.