Part 27 (1/2)
Dorothy, whose face was buried in Jase's neck, whimpered.
Quietly, I reached around the door to press the lock b.u.t.ton then silently pulled it closed; testing it to make sure it was indeed locked. Chrissy did not need to walk in on that.
Dorothy didn't deserve to be led on either.
But it was typical. And there was nothing I could do.
A short time later Dorothy returned to the barbeque looking flushed. Together we watched Jase leave the clubhouse and head back to Chrissy. Chrissy curled herself around him while he stared at Dorothy, promising her with his eyes all sorts of things I knew he would never make good on.
”He's finally going to leave her,” She whispered, her eyes on Jase.
I pressed my lips together and looked down at the serving spoon in my hands. He was never going to leave Chrissy; he loved her in his own f.u.c.ked up way. He loved Dorothy, too. He had whittled his female admirers down to just the two of them and had no plans on leaving either.
Thankfully, Deuce appeared beside me saving me from having to respond to her.
He looked quizzically between us then followed Dorothy's gaze to Jase and frowned.
”D,” He said in a low voice. She glanced over and blushed.
”Sorry,” She whispered.
”Can't have you p.i.s.sin' off my old ladies and makin' s.h.i.+t hard for my boys, D.”
”I know,” She whispered. ”I'll go if you want.”
I dragged him a good distance away. ”It's his fault,” I hissed. ”He followed her inside and did you know what!”
Deuce raised an eyebrow. ”You know what?” He repeated, smirking.
I folded my arms across my chest and his gaze zeroed in on the cleavage that had just popped out of my deep purple sundress.
”Can we go do ”you know what”?” He asked, grinning.
I rolled my eyes. ”No.”
”Please?”
I fought my smile and lost. He ran his knuckles down my cheek.
”Got you a present,” He said softly.
”A big sweaty man present?” I asked.
Deuce grinned. ”That too. Come on.”
He grabbed my hand, led me inside the club, past the bedrooms, through the living area, and pushed open the front doors.
”All yours babe.”
I blinked rapidly. Then I forgot how to blink and just gaped at the priceless beauty in front of me.
”No,” I whispered.
”Babe. Yeah.”
Solid cast aluminum wheels, a beefy front fork and a wide-bodied fuel tank. Twin shocks tucked neatly out of sight, the rigid-mounted Twin Cam 96B engine, the chrome over/under dual exhaust, and the five-gallon fuel tank.
I was in shock.
”Boys who did the custom work gave me a whole lotta s.h.i.+t 'bout those sparkles darlin'. You f.u.c.kin' owe me.”
It wasn't as if he'd had the entire bike custom sparkled. Just the seat and I absolutely loved it.
”I can't believe you remembered,” I breathed, running my hand over my bike. My perfect, perfect bike.
”Cutest kid I ever met. And at Riker's no less. Talkin' 'bout sparkly Fatboys and pink f.u.c.kin' helmets with skulls on them and tellin' me straight up you were gonna be Queen of an MC. That was your dream babe. I'm your man. You feelin' me?”
Oh my G.o.d. He'd made me queen. Because he was my man and that was my dream. My man made my dream come true.
He got me my sparkly Fatboy.
And my pink helmet with skulls on it.
I turned, grinning so wide it hurt, and poked him in the chest. ”You love me.”
He snorted.
”Babe. Yeah.”
I launched myself at him. Gripping my waist, he swung me up and into his arms. Our mouths crashed together and we kissed the way we always kissed, desperate, hungry, full of such crazed intensity, that if bottled could power an entire city.
Sheesh. He so loved me. Just...sheesh.
”Hey,” I said softly and cupped his cheek.
”Yeah?”
”What about your dream?”
His face went dimples. ”I'm lookin' at it, darlin'.”
Oh. c.r.a.p. My heart felt near bursting. I was absolutely done for. This man owned me, body and soul, and everything in between.
”I wanna go do you know what now,” I whispered.
”That's good babe,” He whispered back, ”Real f.u.c.kin' good.”
We fell onto our bed in a tangle, kissing feverishly, tearing at each other's clothing. ”Love you,” I breathed, ”So, so much.”