Thirty-Seven
W ithin a few minutes of Stitch disappearing to meet with his brothers, there was a light knock on the door, and when I opened it, I was relieved to find Lissa standing there.
“Okay, so we need to talk.” She looked serious, and I dragged her into the room.
“What’s up?”
She pushed the door closed.
“Look, Ice says the hospital systems are down, and he can’t get in. He’s talking about trying some other way to get in, but I’m worried he’s going to get caught and in trouble.”
I held up a hand. “He doesn’t need to do that. We have the test results, babe. Stitch isn’t dying, hell, he’s not ill at all. It was benign.” Yeah, there was that lump in my throat again.
For as long as I’d known him, I thought I wouldn’t have him for long, and now that I had hope, I wasn’t sure how to cope with that. I’d been prepared for heartbreak, prepared for bad news, and my head was still spinning from the fact that we’d had the opposite.
“Oh my god, that’s amazing!” Clearly Lissa didn’t have the same issue, so when I burst into tears, she frowned, and dragged me onto the sofa to sit with her.
“Talk to me, girl. You’re happy about this, right? ”
I nodded, trying to push tears away but they wouldn’t stop coming.
“I… I guess I was so sure that it would end badly, my god… it shouldn’t be this hard to accept good news, right?”
Lissa laughed. “The human mind is a complex thing. Just cry it out, babe. I’m sure he feels like doing the same.”
“No, he’s… he’s just the same old Stitch. I mean, he looks less troubled, but he barely reacted.”
Lissa stroked my arm. “It’ll hit him at some point, maybe not until he relaxes tonight to try and sleep. Maybe a week from now. He’s been living with an axe over his head, but now it’s gone, and it’ll hit him eventually. Just be ready for it. He’s been holding in a lot of pain and fear, and it’ll need to be released, just like yours.”
See? She was exactly the right person to come in here.
“So I’m guessing the urgent meeting they called was to tell the club he’s okay?”
I nodded, digging a tissue out of my jeans pocket and blowing my nose.
“Yeah. Well, that and an old lady vote. Apparently that’s how they do this shit?”
Lissa let out an excited squeak.
“Oh my god! He’s not wasting any time!”
I got up and binned the tissue, switching the kettle on while I was up. I leaned on the counter as I watched her follow me.
“He’s pissed though. Pissed that Reacher and Alicia were voted against. He’s planning to force a re-vote on them too.”
There was an unfamiliar look on Lissa’s face. Was… was that anger? I don’t think I’d ever seen her anything other than calm and happy.
“It’s about bloody time. How dare they vote against their own president’s happiness? If it was up to me, I’d boot out everyone who voted no.”
“Were there many?”
She shrugged. “No idea, but even one is bad enough, right? She’s the sweetest person, and being rejected by the club, it really hurt her. Both of them. They’ve both had sessions with me, and I can see it’s breaking them. Good on Stitch for pushing for a resolution. Okay, important question… where do you want it?”
It took me a moment to figure out what the hell she was talking about, and I made coffee while I puzzled it out.
“Okay, girl. I’m stumped. Where do I want what? If Stitch were the one asking me, I’d know exactly what he meant.” After we finished giggling, and sat back down with our coffee, she finally elaborated.
“The tattoo, Cammy, where do you want it? You know it’s your choice, right?”
Oh wow, I hadn’t even thought about that. Did I want it where hers was? Hidden away for only Stitch and me to see? I really wanted it somewhere everyone could see.
“I have no idea. Who does the tattoos?”
Lissa had her hand rested over hers, and I realised it gave her comfort to wear it.
“Has-Been did mine, but Rocket is the other tattooist in the club. You met them both doing the sign for us, remember?”
Stitch
T his time was so different from last time. I’d been fragile then, tense, consumed by fear, and wondering if I was even still me anymore. Today, I walked in like I was the fucking kiddie.
I was on top of the fucking world, and nobody was gonna screw that up. I was welcomed with a lot of back slapping and lewd comments, the norm for a guy returning from his honeymoon.
As soon as Reacher called the meeting to order, I took the lead because it was the way it had to be.
“Thanks, brothers, for the warm welcome home. I have just a few things to raise with you today, but I’ll keep it brief. Firstly, and most importantly, we’re gonna be voting on two things. Remember we changed the rules, no longer needing unanimous votes, but majority votes. None of you raised any issues with this, right, Reacher? ”
He just offered me a slight tilt of his head, but I read it loud and clear.
“Before he gets on to those, he has some good news to share with you all,” he interjected with a grin.
“Brother, already? You’ve only been on honeymoon for a few days.” I flipped my middle finger at Torch, who smirked. “Just saying… lots of babies get made on honeymoons.”
Dickhead… although if that were true, I’d fucking embrace that shit too. Wow… I could actually plan for that stuff now, for a future. It still felt unreal, like I hadn’t fully absorbed it yet.
“Okay, as you guys know, I was waiting for some test results. Some very fucking important ones, and I’m relieved as hell to confirm that they came, and I’m not dying any day soon. You’re stuck with me.”
The room erupted in cheers and fists thumping on the table, and I received enough sharp blows to my back to wind me for a few moments.
“Jesus, their response is to try and finish me off,” I muttered to Reacher, who was laughing along with the others.
“Thank you. I might have been a little off my game while I was waiting for them, but I’m fucking sharp and back on top. So now that’s said, the first vote is the most fucking important. I’m personally calling a re-vote for our president and his old lady. I’m not fucking impressed we’re having to do this twice, because you assholes should care more about your Pres, but here it is.”
There were a few glares, and some grimaces from those who probably felt guilty, even if they hadn’t voted against him and Ally last time, but this time the majority vote won out, and I felt like I could literally see the weight lifting off of Reacher’s shoulders as he absorbed the results.
“Jesus.”
I slapped him on the back and glared at the two people who’d still voted no. I’d be speaking with those assholes later, although Jock’s perspective was probably based around the fact that he’d lost his old lady, and clearly wished he’d gone with her. Micro, though. I wasn’t sure what his fucking problem was, but I was about to find out if it was Reacher or Ally specific.
“Okay, assholes. Second vote is for me, and the old lady I want to fucking ink up. Any objections to Camille?” The glare I sent around the room should have made it clear how serious I was, but again a majority vote won out, but with the same two naysayers. I saw Reacher absorbing that fact too. Maybe it’d help to know he wasn’t alone. Clearly those two had some kind of issue with old ladies in general.
“Okay, well you know what comes next. We’re gonna plan the inking ceremony asap, Has, Rocket, get your shit together. Oh, and since I’m not dying, we’re gonna fucking party for that too.”
As soon as the room cleared, and the door crashed closed after the last person, I leaned back in my seat and focused on Reacher.
“You good?”
He smoothed his hand over his beard.
“They have an issue. We need to figure out what it is.”
I shrugged. “Jock is in hell since his old lady passed. I reckon it’s nothing more than him grieving and either lashing out, or maybe thinking he could spare you or me that suffering. I’m not too worried about him. Micro, though. What the fuck is his problem? Did you see his face, when we started each vote?”
Reacher nodded, resting his palms on the table.
“Give him a few days and we’ll have a little chat. Maybe he’s just got a bee in his bonnet about women at the club or something. He’s a bit more old-school than most of the other members. I think he’d be just as happy if the club was still what it used to be.”
“He wasn’t even here then. He’s barely been with us a year.”
“Yeah, we’ll figure it out. In the meantime, let’s go give our old ladies the good news, yeah?”
Our old ladies. Fuck yeah.
Cammy
S titch was practically bubbling with excitement when he came back up to his room. Lissa had gone a few minutes ago, and Elise hadn’t returned yet.
When he grabbed me and threw me down on the bed, I was instantly distracted enough that I wasn’t sure if he’d even had the presence of mind to at least lock the door.
“Married fuck number… Jesus… what number are we on now, babe?”
I tried casting my mind back, shrugging lightly.
“Eight? No… yeah, eight, I think. Does it matter now?”
He grinned as he pulled my t-shirt up and over my head. I opened my mouth again to mention the door, but his next words pushed every thought from my mind.
“Fuck yeah. Only now we’re gonna go for a thousand. This year.”
Jesus Christ. “You’re out of your mind, Stitch. We’re already in the middle of the damn year.”
He laughed, wrestling me out of my jeans.
“God yeah… we gotta keep at it, babe. It’s not a race, it’s a goal. Fully planning on fucking you in the bar tonight too. That little corner I mentioned. It’ll be so hot.”
Oh god. I pulled at the button and zip on Stitch’s jeans, and giggled when he shoved them down, with his underwear, and dropped down over me.
“We’re getting inked, babe. We have an hour to kill then it’s tats, and celebrating and stuff. First though… tits.” He caressed my boobs, squeezing them together in his hands and sucking hard on each nipple in turn.
“My god.” My body arched up, offering said tits for whatever the hell he wanted.
Stitch lifted his head. “Kinda wanna see my name all over these beauties, but if one of my brothers has to touch your tits, I’ll have to kill him. It’s a real dilemma, babe.”
“Nobody is tattooing my damn breasts, Stitch! You’d have to not touch them for… I don’t know, days… weeks?”
“Weeks? Fuck that. Actually, days? Fuck that. Where you getting it, babe?” He went back to sucking on my nipples, while I tried to remember what he’d asked me, and what words even were.
“Camille?”
I drew another shaky breath and felt my mind clear a little.
“My hip, well, my side. Where I can show it off in cropped tops.”
Stitch let out a low groan and shuffled down the bed, placing kisses all over my stomach and around my sides, before he lowered himself between my legs, and started sucking on my clit, his fingers gliding into my pussy in deep strokes .
I couldn’t hold back my orgasm, even as the bastard sat and smirked at me, as he made me ride his fingers throughout my release.
“Time for my cock, babe. Been aching to get inside you again.” He crawled up the bed, his body covering mine, as he eased his cock inside me in one slow press.
“Gonna spend the rest of my life fucking you, Camille. You were made for me, and I plan to spend as much time inside you as I can.”
“Two words, Stitch.” Firstly I was struck dumb by the way he thrust into me, so deep, so hard, that all I could utter was a low groan.
“You were saying, babe?”
My answer was interrupted by another harsh thrust.
“Dammit… Stitch…”
He smirked. “Still waiting for those two words, babe, unless that was them?”
“Screw that. Do it again.”
He fucked me hard, not holding back anymore, not giving me a chance to speak or even try, not that I even cared about that anymore. I wrapped my legs around him, moving with him to meet every sharp thrust, to absorb the impact as completely as possible. To feel him deep inside me even when he was no longer inside me.
Stitch caught my hands from his chest, and pinned them down beside my head as he moved, angling his hips to grind against my clit with each entry. My orgasm crept up on me so suddenly, I barely had time to anticipate it before I was shuddering and moaning as it rippled through my body, tingling every nerve ending. Stitch suddenly pulled out of me, and jerked his cock twice, before he splatted my stomach and chest with his cum.
He laughed breathlessly, dropping onto the bed beside me, while I stared at the mess he’d made of me.
“Was that really necessary?”
He laughed again. “Marking my wife and old lady with my essence? Yeah, it felt fucking good too.”
“One of your brothers has to tattoo my skin, under all your ‘essence’. It’s not like I can keep it there.”
Stitch shrugged, leaning over to nuzzle my shoulder.
“I can do it again, plenty more where that came from. Guess I didn’t need both balls for that.”