Originals Ride: Hellions Motorcycle Club (Hellions Ride Book 8) (9 page)

“Hush, little baby, don’t say a word,” Dia sings softly to our baby girl. “Daddy’s gonna buy you a Harley shirt.”

I can’t stop the laugh that escapes as I lean against the doorjamb.

Little noises come from our baby, and Dia looks up at me with sharp eyes.

“Well then, Mister Chuckles, you come put her to sleep.” She stands from the rocking chair and brings me the baby all wrapped in red.

Claudia was adamant that our nursery and baby not look like someone vomited Pepto pink in her room and her wardrobe. Can’t say that I’m sad she feels that way, either.

With her hair all wild around her face, her eyes tired from lack of sleep these last few days, and baby spit-up on her shirt, my wife has never looked more disheveled nor more beautiful.

Taking Delilah from her arms, I kiss my wife on her forehead. “Go shower and take a nap, love.”

“Gladly,” she says with an exhausted smile. With a quick kiss to our daughter’s head and one to my lips, she heads off to her sanctuary—our bedroom.

Sitting in the rocker that faces my daughter’s crib all decked out in hot air balloons with teddy bears, I have to smile at how life has changed from the moment they placed Delilah in my arms.

With the face of a doll, eyes of an angel, and a head of blonde hair to match her mother’s, my baby girl is absolutely perfect.

Bright eyes look up at me as she opens and closes her mouth like a fish. “Never known love so deep, dollface.” My voice is raspy as I try not to be loud, but I want to talk to my little girl. “Loved your momma before, but watching her with you, holding you, having you … Well, Doll, I’ve never know anything purer in my life.”

My daughter smiles. Dia says it’s gas, but I don’t care. My baby girl smiles before her eyes close, and she snuggles closer to me.

“Leather, oil, and man,” I explain happily. “One day, you’re gonna grow up, and when you find a man, he should smell like a hardworking man, Doll.” The thought of my baby girl growing up has me twitching to shoot something. “Never mind that, precious. I promise you, as your dad, I’ll be the man you look up to. I’ll be the man who makes you proud. I’ll be rock solid for you and your momma. I’ll give you my all and my love.” I rock her, thinking of what it’s going to be like to watch her grow. “When the time comes to let you go, I’m going to fight like hell to keep you with me. I’ll give my life before I’ll let anyone touch you.” Kissing her head as she soundly sleeps, I hold my daughter in my arms.

***

Eight weeks later, my balls are so tight I think they may bust. Between Dia healing from having our baby to the exhaustion we feel as new parents, there has been no time for the two of us to be, well, the two of us.

Leaving work, I’m dirty, tired, and I want nothing more than to kiss my Doll, kiss my wife, and go to sleep.

I pull up to our little trailer and park my bike then make my way inside. When there is no noise, I make sure to remove my boots without a sound to avoid waking my wife or my daughter.

At the kitchen sink, I wash my hands, splashing some water on my face before grabbing a beer from the fridge. When I make my way into the bedroom to change my clothes, I’m blown away.

Lying on our bed in a red lace number is my wife, Claudia Reklinger. Her breasts still swollen from having a baby, her tummy now flat, and her tone legs stretched out. I stand in the doorway and give a whistle, which makes her smile.

She curls a finger for me to come over, and stripping as I go, I slide in over her. My long hair in a braid falls over my shoulder and tickles the exposed skin of her collarbone. I kiss her briefly before I move slowly down her body, kissing and licking every available inch.

At her belly, I trace her stretch marks with my tongue, knowing it was my baby that grew in her body. I forever marked her in the way she forever marked my heart, stretching me to a new capacity to love I never knew possible.

With my teeth, I tug at her panties as she grips my hair in anticipation. I run my nose through her curls, inhaling the scent of her arousal, as I use my hands to slide her panties all the way off.

From her ankle to her inner thigh, I lick and tease her with my teeth. At her juncture, I flick my tongue against her glistening lips, lapping up every drop of her desire and settling in to feast. Claudia shamelessly grinds against my face.

Adding two fingers, I work in and out as I let my goatee tickle the sensitive skin between her folds before I suck deeply on her clit, sending her over the edge. Then I kiss my way up her body and slide my hard cock inside her while she milks me in her aftershocks.

Resting my forehead on hers, I still. “Baby, you’re gonna make me blow too fast.”

“Sugar, I’m just glad to know I can still make you go.”

As I kiss her, I taste her arousal, my beer, and the mint of toothpaste as I try to calm myself. “Love you, Dia. It’s only you. Women can wind me up, baby, but it’s always going to be you who keeps me fighting the edge just so I can have more. A lifetime deep inside you isn’t enough.”

“Then love me for eternity, Blaine.”

“Damn right,” I whisper, sliding in and out of my wife.

A lifetime deep inside her isn’t enough. I mean every word. I’ll proudly love this woman for eternity.

One Year Later…

Barbeque

The problem with not having a family of your own is feeling left out when your Hellions’ brothers have all started their own. I hate to admit it, but I can’t shake the sadness that I’m not in the same place they are. Then again, I have only one person to blame—me.

For too many years, I stayed on the road, going from one place to another, taking on odd jobs here and there to get by but never settling in.

The Hellions changed all that for me. Here, I feel like I’m part of something. Here, I feel like I belong. Seeing the love between Danza and Mary Alice, Rocky and Marie, Roundman and Dia, it makes me wonder if I’m missing out by just having a mindless fuck with a barfly.

Growing up, my mom and I lived under a bridge in the Bay area. She was a meth addict who only worked odd jobs to cover her next high. I only went to school so I could get free lunch. I wore the same clothes day in and out, my baths taken in the cold bay water. Kids teased me mercilessly, but I prevailed.

When my mom died, I was only fifteen. No one knew; no one cared. I found her body in our blanket under the bridge and left her there, moving on to start squatting in foreclosed houses.

I got myself a job as a busboy at a restaurant. The owners, Shipley Pete and his wife, soon figured out my secret and let me move into their son’s old bedroom. Having a safe place to stay, clothes on my back, and being able to clean up, I was doing good.

After I saved up, Shipley sold me his Harley. Learning to ride, feeling the freedom, gave me the escape from life. Then, when Shipley had his heart attack and his wife moved to Washington with their son, I hit the road and didn’t look back.

I was lost until I landed in Haywood’s Landing with the Hellions. The guys took me in without questioning my past or judging me.

I never imagined having a family of my own, but with the club, I have one, and now I can’t help wondering if I dare to have more.

“Been thinking,” Roundman says, walking into the client waiting area of his bike shop.

“You have a brain?” Danza teases his long-time friend.

“Shut up, fucker.”

“Whatcha thinkin’, brother?” Rocky, the more serious of us all, asks.

“We should have a barbecue out back here. We’ve built around the shop; we have the clubhouse; we have the cave; so now let’s have a backyard barbecue. We can have our ol’ ladies out with the kids, make it a real family thing.”

A family thing
. I rub my chest absently, an ache burning inside.

“We’re a family of our own making. I say, hell yeah,” Danza chimes in.

Rocky nods his agreement, and Roundman looks at me.

“Well, let’s get to work. We have to get some grills and some tables,” I say.

Roundman gives me a smirk. “California kid, we gotta build a Carolina-style pig cooker.”

Rocky is the first to move out the front door. “Let’s get to it.”

Within an hour, we are cutting, welding, and creating our own charcoal grill, cut out of a burn barrel. We make the shell of the whole hog cooker and add the hinges to make the top and bottom seal up but still have slats for the metal grates that will hold the hog in place.

For three days, we work on cookers and grills before moving on to tables. We make custom twelve-foot family style tables and even go so far as make a few square cut-outs edged with stainless steel. Once we toss a bucket under the holes, we have the perfect oyster-shucking tables for oyster roasts when the season comes.

Excitement fills me at the prospect of having these memories with my club. Then, at the same time, I feel like something is missing. They have their women and now their kids. Just like my childhood, I’m alone under the bridge.

Within a week, we have everything set up and food bought. Dia, Mary Alice, and Marie are making side items while we’ll man the grills. Roundman has invited all patched members and their families, and it’s not long before the party is in full swing. The kids are playing, the beer is getting guzzled, and the women are happily on their men’s arms.

Marie brought a new friend she met at the craft store the other day. As I run my fingers over my goatee, my mouth waters at the beauty in front of me. She has this shy look that only intrigues me more. In her mini-skirt, her legs go on for miles, and I can’t stop myself from imagining them wrapped around my neck while I eat her pussy like it’s my last meal. The woman has hair the color of molasses, and it’s in a kinky curl that makes me wonder what kind of kink she would be into with me.

Strolling over, I give her my smile, and she looks around as if I’m looking at someone else.

“What’s your name, pretty thing?”

Marie laughs yet doesn’t introduce us.

“Tilly,” she says barely above a whisper.

I tip her chin to make her look me in the eye. “I’m Frisco.”

That’s when the fire comes alive between us. Her eyes dance in mischief and, dare I let myself believe, lust.

“Frisco isn’t a name. What’s your name?”

It’s been a long time since anyone cared to know Richard. My life has been about the club and my role in the club for so long I find her interest refreshing.

“Richard Billings.”

She extends her hand for me to shake, but instead, I press my luck, dropping my lips to touch hers. There is a spark and a sizzle, only making me need to have this woman more.

I never expected for this barbecue to be so fun. I never expected to meet anyone who would spark my interest for more than the time it takes for me to get off. Tilly is different, and she challenges me. I get off on a challenge.

Keep it coming, baby.

Two Years Later…

Doing Time