Chapter 26 - New Love
Nell
Rick licked up my center and hummed as he latched onto my clit while simultaneously slipping two fingers inside my pussy.
It had been too long since we were together like this and I didn’t think I’d last very long.
He alternated between slow and sultry sucking and writing a damn sonnet in cursive with his tongue, so that my orgasm hung just on the brink and came back down.
Rinse and repeat. His fingers started off in an easy motion and then would slam in and hit my g-spot in rapid succession but he counterbalanced those movements with what he did to my clit and it sent my brain, nerve endings, and hormones into a tailspin.
He had just put it all together and started to really go for the end goal when someone knocked on the door to our room.
“Don’t you dare stop,” I warned him.
“Didn’t plan on it,” my husband assured me before diving back in and making my eyes roll to the back of my head. He managed to get the job done and left me in a puddle of bliss as the second round of knocks came.
“Not trying to interrupt your O-filled reunion, but there’s a call for you on the club’s landline, Baffle. Came in from the Pen.” My heart stuttered at the sound of Crutch’s voice and also the message he was delivered. “Bigfoot’s keeping them on the line until you can get there.”
Rick glanced up at me as he wiped the wetness off his face with his shirt sleeve.
It was the same shirt he had been wearing yesterday.
Not that it mattered. He had been too out of it to bother trying to strip him down and I didn’t want to bother Knuckles for more help than he already gave by getting his brother to the bed for me.
“Go, find out what’s going on. Crutch said Bigfoot is keeping ‘them’ on the line, not your dad, so it might be important.” That tipped the scales and my husband threw off his shirt, snatched another one up, and got ready to walk out the door.
“They don’t get to smell your pussy all over me,” he explained before he left to go find out why the prison was calling.
Holy shit, that was hot.
When Rick didn’t come back right away, I tried not to panic.
Instead, I got up and dressed in some of the clothes that were still here from before my little post-incident cabin sabbatical.
Then I went on a mission to find my man.
I met with a stumbling block, two of them in fact, along the way.
Knuckles and Grunt were there when I made my way to the common room.
“Come on, we’re going to ride with you over to the RV shop so you can get to work.”
“But, I wanted to find Baffle first. I was supposed to help with the cookout.” I used his road name since his club brothers were the ones I was speaking to and not my husband.
“I know, darlin’, but he’s going to be tied up for a bit. There was an emergency at the prison.” Before I could ask, Knuckles held up his hands with his palms facing out toward me. “I don’t know any more detail than that. He asked that we take you to your studio because he’s going to be awhile.”
“I’m tagging along because like hell am I going to miss seeing the finishing touches on your Chevy,” Grunt insisted.
“Okay, well, let’s get over there then.” My stomach felt like it was in knots. “Are you sure I shouldn’t stay here?” I asked one more time as I glanced over my shoulder to where Bigfoot’s office was.
“Positive. He’ll be along as soon as he’s done handling whatever it is they needed. I think the cookout might be postponed for another day anyway.”
“Why?”
“Angel isn’t feeling social today.” I stared at Grunt, who had been the one to deliver that answer.
“How would you know that?”
He chuckled. “Down girl! No need to protect your new sister from the grubby biker. Sammy told me just before you came looking for Baffle this morning.”
“I didn’t see Sammy.”
“She went to be with Angel despite what the girl wanted.” He snickered. “Something you’ll learn about our new top ol’ lady is that she inserts herself when it seems necessary. Girl’s got heart.”
“Maybe a savior complex,” Knuckle teased as the two of us piled into a UTV while Grunt hopped on his Harley.
“We’re not all carpooling?” I joked to keep the mood lighter. Grunt shook his head and Knuckles made a point of laying my crutches across the entire back seat. “Okay, yeah, I can see where they might take up a bit of room.”
Reluctantly, I ended up leaving with my husband’s club brothers instead of him.
Something in my gut told me I should have stayed and waited.
At the very least, I should have ignored them and checked in on him.
Then there was the other part of me that remembered I’d told Rick that I loved him twice and he hadn’t given that back to me.
Maybe he needed the separation to figure out how to deal with me.
I knew that didn’t sound right either, but we’d only just spoken for the first time since the second incident with Johnny last night and I was feeling a little raw and unsure.
Grunt had been correct in his assessment that I was nearly finished with Classic Sin. I’d had a lot of spare time to get it done when I wasn’t speaking to Rick, so I threw everything I had into what was left on the piece. That included the paint job I was about to throw on the finished product.
When we got to the shop, both men immediately questioned all the plastic beneath the pallet my piece sat on.
“What the hell? Did you move this by yourself?” Knuckles asked as he pointedly glanced at my casted leg and then back to all the surface protector plastic that had been laid down.
“No, Brady came in to do it yesterday, long before the sun even rose.”
“Why did Brady get to know what you were up to ahead of time?” Grunt pouted like a little kid who didn’t want to share his toys.
“Because, ultimately, this is Brady’s building and I had to get permission before painting a piece this big in here.
Speaking of which, I’m not sure I have paint suits that will fit either of you, though I do have extra respirators.
You both might have to set up chairs just outside the bay or a couple bays over while I do this. ”
Knuckles glanced around and then rummaged through the other bays until he produced a couple pair of mechanic’s coveralls. “These should work,” he said as he threw a pair to Grunt.
For the next seven hours, I prepped Classic Sin for its inevitable paint job, took breaks to hydrate, and prepped some more.
Most of what I was doing was the initial e-coat and then primer coat.
It was not an attractive step in the process to the untrained eye who couldn’t envision what the finished product would look like the way I did.
Grunt proved that by the way he stared in horror at my art after the primer had been applied.
“Umm, Nell, I’m not sure painting is your thing,” he said.
I turned to look at him and threw my head back as I barked out a laugh. “Don’t you know how car’s get painted, Grunt?”
“Do I look like I know how cars get painted?”
Poor guy. I continued to laugh at his expense, but noticed that Knuckles appeared just as curious.
“You think I fucked up my own art, huh?” As if in sync, both men nodded vigorously.
“Well, I’m not going to spoil it for you by letting you see pictures of the piece that led to this commission.
How about you have a little faith in the process and the fact that you already kinda know how much I’m getting paid for this beast.”
“Honestly, Nell, I was just thinking you might have to give that deposit back. No offense because the think looked sweet as hell before you did this shit to it.” He pointed to the imitation ’57 Chevy I’d made from scrap parts.
And his tone said I should be held accountable in some way for destroying its raw form.
I laughed again and sipped some more water. “Lucky for you, it’s hot and dry here. It’ll cut down on the curing time and I can get started on the real paint job before long.”
“Figured you would be on a longer break about now,” Brady said as he drove up in his Polaris. “Brought some food out.”
“You make this shit?” Knuckles asked as he eyed the honest-to-God picnic basket in the man’s hands.
When Brady nodded, Knuckles face devolved into pure menace.
“You looking to get wifed up, man? You know the way to our hearts is through our stomachs.” He patted his flat belly and laughed as Brady flipped him off.
“The way to my heart is through my dick, when a bitch sucks like a fucking hoover,” Grunt added as he started to dig through the basket. I shook my head and then laughed as Brady popped him in the back of his head. “What the fuck was that for, asshole?”
“Ladies first and that was for Baffle because he wouldn’t want you talking about getting your dick sucked in front of his woman.”
“Shit!” Grunt turned like he was going to apologize but I waved it off before he could even get started.
“Nothing to worry about. Honestly, you couldn’t insult me any worse than you already did by making fun of my art.” Brady smirked as he took in the drying primer coat.
“It has to get worse before it gets better,” he added sagely.
“Exactly. It’s all part of the process.”
“Taking a thing of beauty and making it ugly?” Grunt asked as he popped a grape into his mouth.
I rolled my eyes. Brady popped him in the shoulder with a fist that time.
The men of Violence, New Mexico were a special breed and I loved being able to hang out with them.
I wished Rick was here, too, but his brothers were good for the soul and helped take my mind off whatever might be going on with my husband.