33. Candy
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CANDY
W e’re four days away from the mission, and it’s more of the same: Piero giving updates if there are any, more scenarios to work through for the undercover portion of the operation, therapy with Brandon to check in with my mental well-being, and finishing with the crew handing me my ass in the gym.
It’s exhausting work—physically and mentally.
Butch has been at my side through it all, as he will be when we go to the auction, too. He sits with me when we’re being debriefed in the mornings. When I have questions about the investigation, he answers them, not censoring any of the material—something I appreciate. With roleplaying, he guides me through the scenarios like a director in a movie. And while I’m getting tossed around on the mats, he does his workouts in the gym to monitor my self-defense training.
He’s a true partner, an equal, outside the bedroom.
Behind closed doors, he’s on his knees, worshipping my body and letting me fuck him as I please.
In the beginning, I worried the power dynamic between us wouldn’t be long-term and Butch would eventually want to take the power back. The longer I’m with him, the more my concern dissipates. Butch shows no sign of growing bored with his sub role. If anything, he’s being more vocal about me trying certain sexual things on him.
And the delayed gratification is becoming our favorite kink. Bondage and mild spanking are fun, but the real pleasure comes from watching Butch fight his climax until I’m more than satisfied. Got to give the man credit—most men would fall apart fast with the toying.
As I’m daydreaming about the fun we had the night before, a throw pillow beans me in the head, bringing me right back to the present.
“Earth to Candy! You sure you don’t want any?” Ebony asks me, holding up the nearly empty wine bottle.
The MC ladies are all gathered around the living room at Jo’s house, watching some trashy reality TV show while eating pizza. Wine is a staple of these social events. But three out of our six-lady crew aren’t drinking due to being pregnant or suspected pregnancy. This leaves Ebony and Red splitting a bottle of Pinot Grigio, giggling as they get tipsy.
“No, thanks,” I say, taking a swig from my water bottle. With the mission on the horizon, I’m opting to stay hydrated.
“You’re taking this job pretty seriously,” Red says. She hiccups, reaching for the wine bottle in Ebony’s hand.
Ebony dumps the rest of the wine in her own empty glass before Red can steal it. “No more for you, missy. Hiccups lead to upchucks.”
Simone groans, looking a little green. She cups her hand over her mouth. “Don’t talk about it. Gosh. I think I’m going to be sick.”
She rushes for the bathroom, with Jo chasing after her as fast as her pregnant body can waddle. A moment later, we hear Simone get sick, with her sister soothing her with calming words.
“Another one bites the dust,” Ebony says, swirling her wine in her glass, completely unaffected by Simone’s more-than-likely pregnancy vomiting.
Red bites her lip, looking down at the area rug at her feet, but not before I see her eyes fill with tears. Pregnancy topics always make her sad. Normally, she hides it well. The alcohol has made her more vulnerable. I asked her once if she wanted to talk about it. She shook her head, and I didn’t press the issue, sensing it was something too painful for her to share.
Opal gives me a warm smile, patting the giant black beast lying across her lap. Hades adores Opal, always staying close to her when he’s not with Jo. He’s not a fan of me as much. But Runt, the smaller Cane Corso with the silver fur, likes me enough. She lies at my feet, waiting for me to drop her some pizza crumbs.
“It’s good that you’re taking your position on the team seriously,” Opal says. “I can see being part of this assignment—whatever it entails—is important to you. And I’m happy seeing you happy.”
“Aww. Thanks, hun. I am happy. For the first time in my life, I feel like I have meaning.”
“And a hot man,” Ebony adds, raising her glass to me in a toast before taking a big sip.
“Yeah.” I grin. “I’m pretty crazy about my biker boy.”
“So you love him?” Opal asks, her smile nearly as big as mine.
“I mean, I’ve never been in love. But with Butch…” I throw myself back against the couch cushions, mimicking a swoon, “it has to be love.”
Opal gets teary-eyed, swiping under her eyes. “This makes me so happy, I’m gonna cry.”
Ebony side-eyes our rainbow-haired friend. “It’s those baby hormones. They drag the emotions right out of you, I swear.”
Red looks up from the floor at me, distracting herself from the baby talk. “Have you told Butch yet?”
“Um, no,” I say, flipping my pink hair over my shoulder. “The dude turned to stone when I brought up a dream I had where we got married. How do you think he’s going to react when I tell him I love him?”
“But things are different now,” Opal protests in a soothing tone, wiping at her tear-stained cheeks. “You’re sharing a suite, and he made you his old lady. Telling him you love him is not out of line if you’re feeling it. ”
I chew on the inside of my cheek. “Hmm. Maybe. But I don’t think now is a good time to be bringing up my feelings for him.”
“Why not?” they all ask at once.
“The case,” I explain in a defeated tone. “It’s a lot. We’ve already dealt with enough in a small window of time. There’ll be plenty of time to confess my feelings to him after the mission is done.”
Opal looks unsure. “It seems simple enough to express it to him. But if now is not the right time, then it’s not the right time. You say it when it feels right—natural.”
“Agreed,” Ebony says, taking another big gulp of wine.
Jo comes back to the living room, blowing away the sandy-colored stray hairs that fell loose from her French braid. “I think we need to call it a night. Simone is not feeling great at the moment.”
“The joys of pregnancy,” Ebony says, with a sardonic laugh.
“Let’s keep the pregnancy talk between us,” Jo says, rubbing a hand down her strained face. “Simone is worried this might be the flu. She doesn’t want to give Chase false hope.”
Ebony points her finger toward the bathroom. “Jo, there’s no hiding morning sickness. Evening sickness? Whatever. Chase is going to assume she’s pregnant the first time he catches her praying to the porcelain god.”
“We shouldn’t assume she is based on sickness alone,” Jo protests flippantly. She’s clearly concerned for her older sister.
“I bet my right tit she’s preggers,” Ebony challenges, slapping the side of her boob.
“Has she taken a test yet?” Opal asks, rubbing her baby bump.
“I gave her one from my stockpile,” Jo says, thumbing in the direction of the bathroom. “It’s really early if she is—the test might not pick up the pregnancy hormone. We should know any second.”
“Oh, my God!” Simone hollers from the bathroom.
“I knew I should’ve put money on this bet.” Ebony sighs, downing the rest of her glass.