24. Squeak
Several days later…
Chile, Deacon is an attentive man. A thoughtful man. A loving man. Yet, he’s about to shock my system by revealing his romantic side.
“If you tell anyone I did this shit, I’ll deny it and your pussy from riding my dick,” Deacon says, staring at me while a frown that doesn’t reach his eyes forms.
Taking my hand, he walks me from his truck’s passenger seat to the back, where my hand covers my wide-open mouth.
“Awe. This is so cute.”
“Mhm. I would like to make this something we do on a regular after the kids come because I already know those little fuckers are gonna have us desperate for alone time.”
The bed of his truck is set up for the perfect dinner for two. I have never had a man put this much thought into date night. On top of the white blanket are four pillows with two on each side of the truck. Then there’s a wooden crate-like table where two glasses of red liquid sit, waiting with a starlit candle. In front of the makeshift table is a bottle of Stella Rosa Red and a wicker basket of flowers similar to the ones surrounding us. Adjacent to the wine is a wood tray holding a plate of grapes, cheese cubes, and bite-size pieces of salami. Next to the tray is an open pizza box that has my stomach growling.
“You and these kids… I don’t recall agreeing to give you any.”
“I’m glad you think you have a choice, Squeak. Come on, so we can move along this part of our date night.” Lifting me gently, Deacon places me on the fuzzy blanket I would never picture him owning.
“My body, my choice, Deacon.”
“Tuh. The lies you tell. My pussy, my nut. Don’t have me trapping your ass and then locking you in the room with Carol Ann for nine months.”
Laughing at the tightness around his eyes and the cute pout on his face, I comment on the outlandish statements coming from Deacon’s mouth.
“Don’t ruin a perfect night with comments about holding me hostage.”
“Whatever. Come sit on my lap so I can feed your hardheaded ass,” Deacon says, adjusting his back against the pillows he’s positioned behind him after getting in the truck.
Smirking, I do as I’m told, and warmth surges through me when I’m resting against him at an angle so he can do what he has planned. We’re parked at Chasity’s Peak, and it’s the perfect location for a romantic evening. The sun is going down, and the colors in the sky are serenading us with the ideal canvas for depicting love.
“Mm. That’s good,” I say, chewing the grape Deacon has given me as a starter.
“Not as good as you, but yeah, it's sweet, which is a plus because these shits can trick you into buying them only to discover they taste like a lemon.”
“You say the wildest things,” I say, giggling.
Deacon shrugs before popping a couple grapes in his mouth, then using a toothpick to grab some cheese and salami. Once satisfied with their placement on the instrument he’s using as a utensil, Deacon brings the food to my mouth, causing me to take the bite he’s serving.
“What’s something that turns you on that you haven’t shared or done before?” Deacon asks while my mouth moves, continuously consuming the meat and cheese I’m enjoying.
My forehead wrinkles, and my mouth twists while I ponder the question and an answer I’m comfortable providing. Reaching a conclusion, I nod, swallow the remaining food, and start talking.
“This moment right here. I would have never pictured the mean and burly biker to have a romantic side like this. What made you think to do this tonight?”
“My need to show you something different. I’m more than the vest and iron I ride, Squeak. Although I’m more likely to stick and move where women are concerned, I’m not without the ability to wine and dine the woman who holds my heart.”
The pained expression in Deacon’s eyes has me rubbing his beard soothingly and desperate to fix the offense I’ve seemed to cause him.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any harm. I—just ignore me while I remove the shoe I’ve put in my mouth.”
My stomach hardens briefly, and a painful tightness eases into my esophagus.
“I know things have been hectic lately, not only with the club shit but with the shit you have going on. With this being my place of peace, I wanted to give us something to hold onto and cherish for years.”
Nodding, my eyes water at the sincerity within Deacon’s words that match the strong cadence of his delivery.
Serves you right for acting like your judgmental ass mom.
My conscience shouts in my mind, and I break the intense eye contact between Deacon and me to avoid the momentary tension I’ve caused.
“Chin up, Squeak. We’re good,” Deacon says, bending to place a light kiss on my forehead before his hand moves to the pizza to pull apart a slice.
Whew, thank you, God. I almost tanked this whole night.
“How serious are you about marrying me?” I ask.
“Serious enough to give your mother another vantage point of what you’ll be committing to by being with me.”
“What exactly does that mean?”
“Your mom doesn’t like motorcycle clubs, yet I’m sure her ignorance has skewed her reasoning. Unfurrow your brows, and let me finish. I’m not calling your mom stupid, Squeak,” Deacon says, smirking.
A deep frown hovers on my lips, and wrinkles replace the hiking of my brows while I wait for Deacon to elaborate because I’m contemplating slapping him right now.
“Like I was saying, your mom has no firsthand knowledge of a group of people she’s deemed to be gang members. Therefore, my love for you and the plan to remove the tension from my future mother-in-law is simple. Show her that Baxtown Iron will never be reduced to gang associations.”
The second part of date night involves several members of Baxtown Iron and whoever their flavor of the night selection is. We’re at Lanae’s Soul Lounge, and unlike the other members of our party, I’m too full to eat anything. Despite the glass of wine I had, I’m drinking a lemon drop that has me feeling nice.
“Girl, what the hell is Deacon doing?” Tinker Belle asks with wide eyes, forcing me to look in the direction she’s staring at.
Unbeknownst to me, my bestie has been messing around with another club member, Smoke. Seeing the two of them walk in with Smoke’s arm tightly around Tinker Belle’s waist had my eyes bulging. Shocked and all, I’m happy for my girl because she deserves to find love like everyone else. Diesel, Gunz, and Shadow are also with us, but I’ve never seen any of the skeezers hanging off them like an untailored blouse. My limited exposure to the club and its activities is possibly the reason for my lack of knowledge, though.
*tap, tap*
“Is this thang on?” Deacon asks, tapping the microphone while looking at the guy behind the DJ station, who nods without responding. “Bet. This goes out to my forever, who needs to know what’s coming next. Queue the track, my nigga.”
The men at the table start barking and shouting when the beat drops, and Deacon’s head starts bobbing.
“See the lust in your eye. I know you can’t hide it. In your walk, in your vibe, make me wanna try it. Like a ’Lac spinnin’ rims, I love it when you ride it,” Deacon sings, causing my mouth to drop from the smooth, steady, velvet edge in his precise and accurate delivery of the Pretty Ricky track.
The seat of my panties becomes flooded from the outpour of my juices, forcing me to clench my thighs together. My eyes are stuck on Deacon as he watches me while dancing to the beat. My body temperature has shot up like one of those hammers hitting the red target at an amusement park. My mouth is watering while envisioning Deacon using the same pelvic thrusts he’s doing on stage on me once we get back to his house.
“Can you make it juicy for me? Or I can make it juicy for you? You get sweaty for me.” Deacon continues singing while entrancing me, and I bite my bottom lip to keep from releasing the moan begging for its escape.
Mission accomplished, baby. Damn, I’m not sure if we’re gonna make it home. I need you, Deacon.
The crowd is loud while cheering Deacon on, and everyone, including our tablemates, fades into the background when my eyes salivate over Deacon. Only Deacon and I are in this room, and I’m seconds away from meeting Deacon on the stage so he can follow through on what he’s insinuating.
“Aye, you better stop this shit, Casanova. Squeak looks like she’s about to blow.” Shadow’s loud voice snaps me back into the present.
Disconnecting the eye contact with Deacon, I turn to see the men smirking before Tinker Belle lifts her hand for a high-five.
“Encore! Encore! Encore!” The audience begins shouting when the song ends with Deacon’s voice trailing off.
The only encore Deacon will be performing is the one that involves multiple and continuous orgasms that saturate his sheets.
“How’d you like my performance, Squeak?” Deacon whispers in my ear, and a toe-curling tremor fills my body from the huskiness within his voice.
Closing my eyes, I grip the fabric lining the table, grateful when the heat from Deacon’s body leaves my back. My breathing quickens, my mouth increases with saliva, and my nerve endings stir and tingle, yet I sit immobile, unable to think around my mounting hormones. Back-to-back pecks on my lips force me to open my eyes to see Deacon’s hungry eyes assessing me.
“Breathe, Squeak. I promise I’m gonna stoke that fire tonight.”
“Mm.” A low moan escapes my mouth, and a sinister grin upturns Deacon’s lips.
Pleaseee…
My mind cries, and my eyes attempt to communicate without forcing me to open my mouth. Deacon nods, allowing me to breathe more manageable for the first time in countless minutes.