Page 98 of Bleed Me

Crying? “Babe—”

I inhaled sharply as her left hand suddenly pinched my nipple. It was painful, yet so erotic, because her right hand picked up speed, sailing me toward an orgasm.

Her tongue swiped my back. “You ready to start talkin’?” My head fell forward, my hands supported me, my stomach coiled, my balls getting ready to blow. Her hand tightened. “Tell me, James, what your back reads.”

It was so hard to talk, so I somewhat groaned, “Justice and Giver,” I fought for air as I came against the tub, “withstand,” groan… “any storm.”

Those words, in script, were within the wild main of the stallion on my back.

I think my woman liked it.

With so many bikers arriving for the event, the Barn was a constant party, and the backyard—the Pasture—looked like a camping ground. Tents were everywhere. Kids were everywhere. It ended up being quite the family event. There was even a massive hog in the ground, being cooked luau style. Coolers were repeatedly being refilled, and bunnies were walking the crowds offering shots.

Gracie was on a seesaw with another kid, while I swung Rhett on a baby swing. He was already almost a year old. Where the four years had gone in such a blur was astounding, but I was now legally allowed to drink, even though my fake ID said I was almost thirty. I felt older than thirty. I had two kids. A baby mama. An Old Lady. Within hours was about to have a wife. And I was a respected member of an illegal motorcycle club.

As another bike pulled into the yard, male whistles sang approval into the air. I smiled and asked my son, “Are you ready to meet Uncle Diesel?”

Rhett lifted his arms, ready, just like a true Stallion.

With my son in my arms, I called out, “Gracie, come on, baby.”

With effort, due to having such petite legs, she got off her seesaw and tittered-tottered, catching her balance, then ran up to me. I reached down and held her hand and walked us toward the commotion.

As soon as Diesel got off his bike, he was bombarded with hugs. But when he saw Gracie, bikers parted so she would have a runway. Seeing that old coot, she squealed and took off running, leaving me and her brother behind.

His tough and rough, tattooed and ringed hands opened for my baby, and she was scooped up for much Uncle Diesel love. He yelled, “The fuck? You’re gettin’ so big!” He held her so tight, staring at me from over her shoulder. “I was afraid she wouldn’t remember me. Oh my God. Is that Rhett?”

“It is. Meet our little man, Ice.”

Ice, ice, baby… was sung by surrounding bikers.

It was like, because of who Justice and Lynx were, my kids were biker royalty.

Gracie saw Art and opened her arms. His jaw fell. “She wants me to hold her?”

I answered, “Sure does, brother. Better not keep her waiting.”

Vice rolled his eyes. “She has a set of pipes that will make your ears bleed. Trust me.”

Almost unsure what to do with her, Art tried to hold her. It was awkward looking until she pursed her lips, ready and waiting.

Art blinked… “Is she… I mean…”

“Pucker up, fucker.”

Another heart was lost as Art received a Gracie kiss.

Diesel held Rhett in amazement. “He’s not even scared of me.”

I gestured about. “You are what he knows.”

Diesel smiled at me and nodded approvingly. “This life suits you, kid.”

“Thank you, sir.”

This life did suit me. Without it, I would’ve been dead. No doubt at all.

And, I definitely wouldn’t have been standing at the end of an aisle made up of chains instead of flowers as the sun began to set. I wouldn’t have been surrounded by the most loyal people in the world, including Diesel, Dagger, and Lynx. With Saint by my side, also waiting for the bride, were Elle, Sapphire, and Jamie.