The Diary of Bink Cummings: Vol 3 (MC Chronicles #3) (3 page)

“I know, I answered the phone. Now what’s the problem?”

Standing there, wearing maternity yoga pants and Big’s vintage Aerosmith T-shirt, my belly brushed the edge of his desk as I shook my head, “I dunno, really, but I think she wants to talk.” I shrugged, “and I don’t do talking very well.”

He burst out laughing. The full body rumbling, dancing eyes, ear-to-ear smiling kind.

It wasn’t funny. I frowned.

Throwing his readers off his face and onto the desk, he stood and yanked the dinosaur phone from my hand.

“Gonna put ya on hold, Beth. Bink will be back in two shakes,” Big ordered to Beth, before clicking a button on the clunky phone base to put her line on hold and dropping the phone into the cradle. Then he shot around his desk, threaded his hands through the sides of my hair and leaned down, brushing his lips across mine.

“You’re the best kinda woman she could be friends with. Don’t sell yourself short, Sugar Tits.” Big defended me. Then he kissed me, ardently shoving his thick, delicious tongue into my mouth and gripped my hair. His other hand drifted from my hair down my shoulders and past the deep curve of my back to my ass. He tugged up my shirt and slipped his hands down the back of my pants into my panties and between my ass cheeks.

I jolted with shocking pleasure when two fingers abruptly thrust into my pussy at the same time he vigorously sucked my tongue into his mouth.

“Oooh,” I groaned.

He tore his lips from mine, leaving us both gulping for air. My face was burning with desire as my pussy throbbed with need around his thick probing fingers. Pecking my lips, Big’s face turned sinister. He released my hair before grabbing the phone from the cradle and handing it to me. I took it into my hands, confused. Then his eyes dazzled with pure wicked malevolence when he hit the button to reconnect the line, his fingers still buried deep.

No! I screamed in my head.

“Talk,” Big commanded, and my eyes widened.

Immediately I scrambled, trying to hang up. Only Big’s hand came over the cradle too fast. “Talk,” he demanded harsher this time. Just so I knew he meant business, he released the cradle and slid to the side so I couldn’t hang up, right before he pushed his other hand into the front of my yoga pants through the lip of my panties and into the cleft of my slick heat. Left with no chance to object, Big’s finger hit its desired mark—my clit. A spark of rampant pleasure shot through me, making me sizzle everywhere. My head fell forward, and I moaned as my eyes squeezed shut on their own accord.

“Bink?” Beth called from the line. “Bink, are you okay?”

Shakily and so horny I thought I was going to explode any second, I lifted the phone to my ear, glanced up, and gulped.

“Ye-s,” it came out choppily and Big smugly grinned, obviously proud of himself.
Asshole.

Big bent forward, caressing his bottom lip along the shell of my unoccupied ear. I shivered from the closeness of his hot succulent mouth to my skin, exciting me so thoroughly my toes curled and I unintelligibly whimpered, bursting at the seams with carnal need. “If you promise to talk to Beth, I’ll only make you come once. If you’re gonna be difficult, Sugar Tits, you can hang up now, I’ll bend you over, spank you till you beg me to stop, then I’ll fuck you till you can barely walk. After that, you can call Beth back,” Big sinisterly offered, hotly breathing into my ear.

Both options sounded unbelievably delicious, and I was simply too drunk on him to think clearly.

Placing the phone to my ear, I took a luxuriating breath and nodded for him to take care of me. I needed it, like I need air to breathe or water to drink. I needed Big’s precise hands to force me to climax almost as much as I need Big, the man.

“Bink,” Beth called into the phone, worry etched in her tone.

“Hold on a second,” I groaned, with the aching need to come. “I’m sorry about this,” I apologized ahead of time, knowing damn well I was going to scream when I came.

Big didn’t waste a second, when his finger raptly began his shallow thrusts in and out of my pussy as the rough pad of his finger drew precise circles around my hardened bud, hitting the shuddering mark every time.

My fingers clutched around the phone, as my eyes rolled back and my mouth hung open, panting for breath.

The methodical tempo of Big’s fingers pounded, like the brewing of the perfect storm. With each deep owning thrust, his finger curled, dragging over my g-spot when he pulled back, before he jabbed it back in. I lost myself, my body shook and my hand reached out, clinging to him for stability. He stepped closer to be my lifeline.

Harmonious wails of unabashed pleasure belted from deep within my soul. His mouth brushed my ear, and my legs gave out. Somehow he kept me from falling, as he kept up the beautiful torture.

“Your sweet little pussy is gonna come all over my fingers, Sugar Tits,” he hotly breathed.

I nodded, mumbling disjointedly between panted breaths.

“Tell me what you want,” he demanded, nipping my earlobe. Uncontrollably, I shuddered and my knees wobbled, but I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t think. I needed him. I needed him to release me. I needed him to bring me to the crescendo of bliss.

“Tell me how much you want me,” he commanded huskier, his own breath shooting in hot spurts. He was as turned on as I was.

The fingers inside my pussy stilled as he awaited my reply. I wanted to whine in protest, but nothing could come out. I was too far gone. My nipples ached as they beaded to sharp points in my bra. My clit throbbed incessantly as my pussy tightened around his fingers, milking them.

“Tell me,” he repeated.

“I….” I closed my mouth, and swallowed hard, my stomach shook to the point of near sickness, as my body danced on the edge. “I…. need…..you… please…make…” I stalled and huffed out a shaky breath.

“Make you what?” he prompted, clearly enjoying this show of power. A power I both hated and loved him for.

“Come,” I blurted stronger than I anticipated.

My body craved him. I didn’t care what I had to do. I wanted him to bring me to climax. It wasn’t about the coming; it was about him doing it. Proving to me that I was his woman, and he owned my orgasms. God, did I love him owning them.

“Your wish is my command,” he naughtily acquiesced with a smile in his voice
.

My world tilted as Big curled around my body, took my mouth in the sexiest kiss alive, with so much tongue, I nearly fainted. Then he pushed my limits to a level I’d never gone before. His fingers didn’t fuck my pussy; they briskly coaxed my g-spot, as his other stilled on the tip of my aching clit and pushed. My body coiled, my breath stilled, my heart thudded in my chest. Then it happened, a warmth spread from my pussy down to my toes and up to my scalp. A heady shot of untainted ecstasy rocketed through my veins, as my pussy clamped around Big’s fingers and my body quaked uncontrollably from the flawless climax.

Big pulled from my bruised lips, opening Pandora’s sound box. The unabashed scream that tore from my mouth made my throat raw and the curses of sated delight followed.

Minutes passed before I was able to open my eyes and my body leveled out. My head swam, and my body felt like a puddle of happy mush. Big carefully removed his hands from my pants and kissed my temple.

“
That was as beautiful as always, babe,” he said warmly. “There’s nothing better than having my old lady comin’ all over my fingers.” He brought them to his mouth and sucked them clean. “Mmmmmm,” he hummed in his throat. “You taste delicious.”

If I wasn’t swimming in a land of euphoria, I would have told him how disgusting he was. I couldn’t say anything, so I shuffled out of Big’s bubble that smelled of him and dropped into one of the leather armchairs that adjoined his heavy executive desk. Big knelt in front of me and tapped the phone which I miraculously hadn’t dropped.

I wanted to scream at him with embarrassment. But his proud smile warmed me, taking the severe shock of what I had just done with a friend on the phone and washed it away. It replaced my unease with a mild enthusiasm for how naughty we had just been in his office again. It’s one thing to do it with people you didn’t care for present. It’s a whole other to bring a budding friend into the thick. I had done that, and there was no taking it back now.

I waited a few beats to gather my nerves. Big nodded reassuringly, stood, and pecked my lips before rounding his desk and going back to work.

I placed the phone firmly to my ear. “Phew,” I blew out a rush of air, “I’m so sorry about that, Beth. Nothin’ like starting off a new friendship with an orgasm.” I tried to sound breezy, but it fell short, and I still felt guilty as hell.

I mean, what kind of man forces his woman to come while talking on the phone? A complete asshole, that’s who. I wanted to be livid, I really did, but my noodly, post climatic, endorphin high left me mildly irritated at best. Not to mention my nerves about talking with Beth flew out the window as soon as I shattered blissfully all over Big’s magic fingers.

A week is all it took for him to fine tune me. One stinkin’ week to know each and every note to pluck to get the best reaction. Even coming on my bike had never been as simple and effortless as Big’s fingers determinedly coaxing me to heaven.

Beth wheezed with anxiety, “That’s okay….did…..ummmm…Big, do that?” She was nervous; I could tell by the squeakiness in her voice.

“Yes,” I grumbled, leering at him from my leather armchair. He didn’t notice. He was too busy working and smiling like the cat ate the canary to give a damn.

“He’s kind of intense, isn’t he?” she asked.

A sarcastic chuckle bubbled out of me. “I dunno if intense would be the proper word,” I admitted, leaning back in my chair to get comfortable and kicking my heels on to the edge of Big’s desk. He glanced up from his paperwork, raising a brow at my feet. I dared him with my eyes to say anything. He didn’t. Only his smug smile widened, and he shook his head, amused. I ignored him.

“I would go with jerk, control freak, caveman, asshole…. or something to that affect,” I explained to Beth, my eyes watching Big to catch a reaction from my words. I knew he was listening. Much to my dismay, he didn’t flinch, smile, or have a single response. I was seriously losing my touch.

Beth snorted a surprised laugh, “Oh my god, did he just hear you say that?”

“Yup,” I grumbled, unwilling to divulge more.

Silence stretched making me uncomfortable until she finally mustered the courage to tell me why she had called.

“Can you tell me about Runner?” Beth blurted exceedingly fast.

I held back a gasp and a wave of revulsion. Of all the brothers to be interested in, Runner would have been my last choice. Is he good looking? If you like that dark hair, dark eyes, brooding, sexaholic kinda thing, then yeah, I suppose he would be considered a babe. To me though? I wouldn’t spare him a second glance. Apparently Beth had different ideas.

“What do you want to know?” I tried to sound levelheaded, no inflection in my tone. I didn’t want to sway her one way or the other. God knows it wasn’t my place to pass judgment on her attraction, considering I was sitting across from a man twenty years my senior, who had helped raise me, bought me from my bitch of a mother, impregnated me after I basically threw myself at him in a fit of despair, and then ran away from. One fucking fucked up mess was who I was.

“Does he have a girlfriend?” she inquired.

The shock of her question was like a swift slap to the face. I reared back in my chair, nearly dropping the phone in the process and closed my eyes, squeezing them so hard my forehead and nose ached.

Taking in a luxuriating lung full of air, I tried to reel it in.

“Um… no, he doesn’t have an old lady.”
But he fucks more women than all the other men combined,
I finished in my head. I couldn’t tell her that. Family code and all that jazz. “Why do you ask?” I added, crossing my fingers that she wasn’t the one to be interested in him and prayed she was writing a paper on male bikers who whore around or had a friend who liked him instead. Runner is not the kind of man a woman like Beth needed.

Beth exhaled a stretched sigh, “That’s what I was hoping.”

“Why?” I asked, even though it was none of my business.

“After he helped me bring grandpa… Jonesy home, he’s been by three times this week. He seems really sweet. Then yesterday, when I was fixing grandpa his morning coffee, Loni the florist delivered a bouquet of white daisies,” she paused and dropped her tone to a whisper, “they were from…him.”

I couldn’t help myself. Struck with disbelief, I tactlessly blurted, “We’re talkin’ about the same Runner, right? Five ten, medium frame, tattoo of a naked hula girl on his forearm, wild hair, and needs a good shave…. that man?” I scrubbed my palm to my face to make sure I was indeed awake. In all the years I’ve known that man, he’s never shown that sort of interest in a piece of tail. I had no idea what she was. A conquest? Somebody he genuinely liked? Felt sorry for? Not a goddamn clue. I sought to find out.

Beth and I carried on for some time. I found out that she began caring for her great grandpa when her mom died six years ago. Her dad was never in the picture. Great grandma, Jonesy’s wife, passed on over forty years ago from cancer, but he hasn’t dated since. Sounds like Jonesy is a one woman kind of man, even in death. Now that’s true love.