Chapter 4 - Jenny
Beast's mother is nothing like I expected.
I don't know why I assumed Elaine Murphy would be a hardened, severe woman, maybe because she raised a man like Beast on her own, but she's the exact opposite.
Short and plump with Beast's dark eyes and a warm smile that transforms her whole face, she radiates the kind of motherly energy I never experienced growing up.
"Jenny, dear, let me look at you," she says, holding my shoulders at arm's length after I step inside. Her eyes scan my face with obvious approval. "My goodness, you're lovely! Derek, you didn't tell me she was this pretty."
Derek? It takes me a moment to realize she's talking to Beast. I've never heard anyone call him by his given name before.
Beast—Derek—shifts uncomfortably behind me. "Told you she was, Ma."
"Well, you undersold her," Elaine says with a wink in my direction before releasing me. "Come in, come in. Dinner's almost ready. Just need to finish the gravy."
She bustles back toward what I assume is the kitchen, leaving us in a cozy living room.
The house is immaculate but warm. Family photos on the walls, comfortable-looking furniture, and fresh flowers in a vase by the window.
It smells like home should smell, like cooking and clean laundry and a hint of something floral.
"Your mom seems nice," I whisper to Beast as he helps me out of my jacket.
"She's in a good mood because of you," he whispers back, hanging my jacket on a wooden coat rack by the door. "Wait till she starts the interrogation."
His fingers brush the bare skin of my shoulders as he steps away, and I suppress a shiver.
The bike ride here was thirty different kinds of torture: being pressed against his broad back, feeling every muscle shift as he handled the motorcycle, the vibration between my thighs.
By the time we'd arrived, my panties were embarrassingly wet, my pussy throbbing with each bump in the road.
I'd never been on a bike before, and now I understand why some people call them "crotch rockets. "
"Make yourselves comfortable!" Elaine calls from the kitchen. "Derek, show her the photos on the mantle. I'll just be a few minutes."
Beast groans softly. "She's breaking out the embarrassing childhood photos already."
I can't help but grin as I move toward the fireplace, trying to ignore the slick heat between my legs. "This I have to see. Big bad Beast in diapers?"
He follows, resigned. "Not quite that far back, thankfully."
The mantelpiece holds a collection of framed photos. Beast as a serious-looking boy in a Little League uniform. Beast as a teenager with longer hair, standing awkwardly in a suit at what looks like a school dance. Beast in military dress blues, looking impossibly young and already massive in build.
"How old were you here?" I ask, pointing to the military photo.
"Eighteen," he says, standing close enough that I can feel the heat coming from his body. "Joined right out of high school."
The same age Tank was when he left me alone with our father, I think bitterly. While my brother was finding brotherhood in the military, I was dodging our father's drunken rages and hiding bruises at school.
I pick up another frame. Beast around ten years old, gap-toothed and grinning, his arm around his mother. It's the most carefree I've ever seen him look.
"You were a cute kid," I say softly.
He makes a grunting noise, but I notice his eyes linger on the photo. "Mom worked two jobs back then. I didn't see her much except on Sundays."
"That must have been hard."
"She did what she had to do." His voice is matter-of-fact, but there's a undercurrent of pride. "Never complained, never made me feel like I was a burden, even though I know I was."
"I doubt she saw it that way," I say, replacing the frame.
"Dinner's ready!" Elaine calls before Beast can respond.
He places his hand on my back, guiding me toward the dining room. I remind myself this is all for show, but my body isn't getting the message.
The dining room continues the homey feel of the rest of the house, with a wooden table set for three. A mouthwatering pot roast sits in the center, surrounded by roasted vegetables and what looks like homemade rolls.
"Everything looks amazing, Mrs. Murphy," I say as Beast pulls out a chair for me.
"Oh, please call me Elaine," she says, bringing in a gravy boat from the kitchen. "Mrs. Murphy makes me feel ancient."
Beast sits beside me, close enough that our elbows touch when he reaches for his napkin. The table isn't that small. He's choosing to sit this close. For authenticity, I remind myself. Nothing more.
"I’ve heard you’re working at the daycare center?" Elaine asks as she serves me a generous portion of pot roast.
"Yes, I just started this week. I'm working with the three-year-olds," I answer, accepting the plate with thanks.
"She's great with kids," Beast interjects, surprising me. "Anna, that's Amelia's daughter, she took to Jenny right away."
I turn to him, "She's a sweet girl."
"And before Blackwater Falls?" Elaine asks, passing the vegetables. "Derek mentioned you came with a friend?"
I nod, taking a sip of water to gather my thoughts. "I was working at a daycare in Riverbrook. Amelia needed to escape her abusive ex-husband, and I knew my brother was here with the Savage Riders, so we came seeking protection."
"Terrible business, that," Elaine clucks. "How that man became a police officer, I'll never understand. You were brave to help your friend escape."
I blink, surprised she knows the details. "Beast told you about that?"
"Derek tells me most things," she says with a pointed look at her son. "Though he neglected to mention he was seeing anyone until yesterday."
Beast shifts in his chair. "Like I said, it's new."
"We met when I arrived with Amelia last week," I add, sticking to our agreed-upon story. "We just... hit it off."
"Love at first sight?" Elaine presses, clearly delighted by the idea.
Beast nearly chokes on his water. "Ma, it's not—"
"Not love yet," I interrupt smoothly, placing my hand on his arm. The muscle beneath my fingers tenses. "But there was definitely something there right away. Wasn't there, Derek?"
His name feels strange on my tongue, intimate in a way his road name isn't. Beast stares at me for a moment, then seems to remember our charade.
"Yeah," he says gruffly. "Couldn't take my eyes off her when she walked in."
The intensity in his gaze makes my pussy clench with want. I have to look away, focusing on cutting my pot roast instead.
"Well, I think it's wonderful," Elaine declares. "And how does your brother feel about you dating one of his club brothers?"
There it is. The question we knew was coming. I take another sip of water, buying time.
"Tank is... protective," I say. "He's always been that way, especially after he left for the military when I was fourteen. He abandoned me with our father for four years, so now he overcompensates by trying to control my life."
I hadn't meant to be so honest, but the bitterness slips out anyway. Elaine nods understandingly.
"Brothers can be thick-headed," she says gently. "My own was the same way. Always thought he knew what was best for me."
"Tank doesn't get a say in who I date," I add with more firmness than intended. "I respect him, but I make my own choices."
Beast's hand moves to my knee under the table, giving it a gentle squeeze. My pussy throbs in response, my still-damp panties growing wetter. I shift in my chair, trying to ease the ache between my legs.
"Good for you," Elaine says approvingly. "A woman should always make her own choices. That's what I taught Derek, though the good Lord knows if he listened to half of what I said growing up."
"I listened, Ma," Beast sighs. "I just didn't always agree."
Elaine laughs, a warm sound that fills the room. "Fair enough. Now, Jenny, tell me about your family. Are your parents still in Riverbrook?"
"My mother died when I was twelve," I say, trying to keep my voice steady. "Cancer. And my father... we're not close."
That's the understatement of the century. The last time I saw him, he called me a worthless slut and told me I'd never amount to anything, just like my "whore mother." That was the day I finally left home, six years after Tank.
Beast's hand tightens on my knee, sliding slightly higher up my thigh. My clit pulses in response, and I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from making a sound.
"I'm so sorry to hear that, dear," Elaine says, genuine sympathy in her eyes. "Family can be complicated."
"Tank is my family now," I say simply. "And Amelia and Anna. And now, I suppose, the club too."
"And Derek," Elaine adds with a pleased smile.
I glance at Beast, finding his dark eyes already on me. "Yes," I agree softly. "And Derek."
Something changes in his expression, a hunger I've glimpsed before when he thinks I'm not looking, before he turns away, reaching for his water glass.
The conversation moves to safer topics after that. Elaine asks about my apartment ("It needs work, but it has potential"), my hobbies ("Reading, mostly, and I'm trying to learn to cook"), and how I'm finding Blackwater Falls ("Everyone's been welcoming, especially the club").
Throughout dinner, Beast's hand remains on my thigh, occasionally squeezing or shifting higher, then retreating. By the time Elaine brings out homemade apple pie for dessert, I'm so worked up I can barely sit still, my clit throbbing with every casual brush of his fingers.
I'm laughing at a story about Beast's high school attempt at auto shop class that ended with him accidentally dropping an engine block that barely missed his teacher's foot, trying desperately to ignore the slick heat between my thighs.
"He was banned from the garage for a month," Elaine concludes, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes.
"It wasn't my fault," Beast grumbles good-naturedly. "Johnson shouldn't have left the hoist unsecured."
"You've come a long way since then," I say, smiling at him. "Now you're building a motorcycle club instead of destroying cars."
"The club was King's idea," Beast corrects. "I just helped with the muscle."
"You're selling yourself short," I counter, "Tank says you're one of the reasons half the businesses in town trust the Savage Riders for protection. You're fair with them, don't squeeze them for more than they can afford."
Beast looks genuinely surprised. "Tank said that?"
I nod. "He respects you a lot. Even if he would never be thrilled about... this." I gesture between us.
His hand moves higher on my thigh, fingers dangerously close to where I'm soaking through my panties. I spread my legs slightly without meaning to, silently begging for more contact.
"Which reminds me," Elaine interjects, completely unaware of what's happening under her table, "will you be staying for Sunday dinner this weekend? Both of you?"
Beast and I exchange another glance. We hadn't planned that far ahead in our fake relationship.
"I'd love to," I say before he can respond, my voice huskier than normal. "If Derek wants to."
"Of course," Beast says quickly. "Wouldn't miss it, Ma."
Elaine beams at us. "Wonderful! I'll make my lasagna. It's Derek's favorite."
After helping clear the dessert plates despite Elaine's protests, I excuse myself to use the bathroom.
As I wash my hands, I stare at myself in the mirror.
My cheeks are flushed, my pupils dilated, my nipples hard against the fabric of my dress.
I look like a woman who's been thoroughly turned on but not satisfied.
I reach under my dress to feel my panties, finding them soaked through. "Fuck," I whisper, pressing my thighs together. Beast has barely touched me, and I'm dripping like a bitch in heat.
This isn't real, I remind myself sternly. Beast is just doing this to keep his mother from matchmaking. And I'm doing it for... what, exactly? Protection? Help with my apartment? Or is it the way my pussy clenches every time he looks at me with those dark, hungry eyes?
I dry my hands and take a deep breath. Two more days of this charade, and then we can "break up" amicably. No harm done.
When I return to the living room, Beast and his mother are standing by the door, her hand on his arm as she speaks to him quietly. They both look up when I enter, and Elaine's face breaks into a wide smile.
"There she is," she says warmly. "I was just telling Derek to bring you back soon. Maybe next time you can help me in the kitchen? I could teach you my apple pie recipe."
"I'd like that," I say, meaning it. There's something about Elaine that makes me miss the mother I barely remember.
Beast's eyes travel over me, lingering on my breasts and thighs, and I wonder if he can tell how aroused I am. From the way his jaw tightens, I think he might.
"You're welcome anytime, dear," Elaine says, pulling me into a hug that smells like cinnamon and clean laundry. "You're good for him," she whispers in my ear before releasing me.
Guilt twists in my stomach alongside desire. This kind woman thinks I'm bringing happiness to her son, when really I'm just part of a deception, a deception that's leaving me wet and wanting in ways I never expected.