Bash, Volume II (13 page)

Angelica

Bash and Gonzo walked down the street, away from the shop and the compound, to talk. I coached Dawg through helping me get the two halves of the crankcase together, and then laid out all the gaskets and o-rings I’d need for the next step.

I didn’t need help with this next bit, but I put everything I’d need in a straight line so Dawg could hand things to me as I needed them. This part wasn’t especially hard, but it was fiddly.

Dawg seemed to understand I didn’t need him to make small talk, and he kept quiet as I worked. When I finally sat up and asked him for the rubber mallet, he said, “Tink really does fit you, I wasn’t being a smart ass.”

“I think I might be flattered, but I’m too worried about Bash and Gonzo right now. I don’t want to come between friends.”

“They’ll work it out.”

“I don’t want to fuck Gonzo.”

He laughed. “Makes two of us.”

“I’m serious! If he’s feeling left out because of the three of us, I don’t know how to fix it.”

“Isn’t your job to fix this. They’ll work it out. Don’t know if me joining ya’ll occasionally will be a short or long-term thing. I love playing with ya’ll, and I’m glad I got to know you inside and out, but when it’s time for me to stop, we’ll stop.” He nodded towards the bike. “What’s next? I’d love for you to have it mostly back together when they get back.”

“I hope they aren’t gone that long, but I can have more together than we do now.”

They were gone long enough for me to drop the camshaft in, work on the timing, get the tension right on the cam chain, set the rocker arm, and work on the valve clearances. I was working on the clutch mechanism when they returned, and I smelled blood.

They both had scuffed knuckles and signs of being hit in the face. Gonzo’s face looked a whole lot worse than Bash’s.

I glared at Bash. “I got this. You boys go play, and when I get it back together Dawg can drive me home.”

“Sorry it took so long, Princess,” he said as he looked the bike over, and he didn’t look at all contrite. “Damn, you got a lot done. Sorry I wasn’t around to help with the timing. I’ll lay all the gear selector pieces out, so they’re ready for you when you get to them.”

I stopped working and stood up straight, wiping my brow with my forearm as I glared at them. “You aren’t six years old, and I’m not a fresh kill to fight over! What the fuck!”

“Fuck me, she really can do it by herself,” Gonzo said, his voice reflecting his amazement.

“Told you,” Bash said, with more than a hint of pride. They were looking at the bike, completely ignoring me. I looked at Dawg, who shrugged, and I rolled my eyes and pressed the lift button to raise the bike so I wouldn’t have to bend over it. I’d needed leverage earlier, but I could work on this portion from the side and rest my back.

“Tink.” I looked up, caught a dark, serious look from Gonzo. “Bash is right. I’m an asshole to women. Misogynist isn’t exactly the right word — it isn’t that I don’t think women have brains, it’s that I don’t trust their emotions, or their dramas. Bash tells me you control your wolf, and your dad let you carry a gun starting at thirteen in special situations. He says you’re different, and he’s my brother so I believe him.” He glanced at Dawg, back to me. “Whatever’s going on with the three of you ain’t any of my business, and I’m sorry if I said something out of line.”

“Ya’ll just went somewhere and hit each other in the faces with your fists, and you think
women
are full of drama? Tell me you’re shittin’ me?”

He shrugged one shoulder but didn’t look the least bit sheepish. “We’re done now. Over it. It won’t come up again. Women? It’s never over.”

“Don’t lump us all in the same basket, Gonzo.” I worked a few things into place on the bike, came to a good spot to pause, and looked up to meet his gaze, determined to make my point. “I don’t know what happened to make you this way, but Bash had to take care of me for several days when I was fifteen and was literally experiencing the worst days of my life. He’s seen me at my worst, when I truly
was
an angst-driven teenager, and now he’s getting to know me all grown up. It was his job to make sure I didn’t have too much fun back then, but now he’s helping me fulfill a few fantasies. I love him. I guess I always have, it’s just turned into a different kind of love, now.”

He chuckled. “Bash was your party pooper?”

“You have no idea,” I said as I rolled my eyes. “Scared off every guy who flirted with me, and
always
knew when I was planning to escape him and try to have actual fun.” I sobered as I remembered, and looked at Bash. “You saved my ass by knowing when I was up to something, though.”

He smirked. “I think you’ve finally made up for the pussy I lost out on that night. Another year or two, and you
might
make up for the rest of it.”

I shook my head. “I’ll give you the night I snuck out, but no way do I have to make up for the rest of your time with me. Everyone pays their dues and puts in their time as a prospect. The prez’s daughter was your job, and no one’s gonna feel sorry you missed out on wettin’ your cock a few hundred more times ‘cause she was a pain in your ass.”

I went back to work and Bash joined me. Gonzo wandered over to a counter and pushed up until he was sitting on it. Dawg handed me tools as I asked for them, and the four of us just hung out. We talked about the advantages of different cams over others, discussed various muffler systems, suspension, and then somehow the conversation moved to my dad and a few of the really old timers in Atlanta who were so old they rode trikes for long trips, now.

When we finally had the whole thing together, I told Dawg, “We’ll need to do some tweaks at around three hundred, six hundred, and a thousand miles. I’ll change some springs out as everything properly seats, and you want to be careful how you drive it the first thousand miles. Take it too easy, the rings won’t seat; drive it too hard, it’ll seize.”

I gave him specific instructions for how to drive it his first five times out, and he looked at me a few seconds and said, “Why don’t you take it on the test drive, since you seem to know what it needs.”

“No,” said Bash. “She’ll ride with you, with mics in your helmets so she can tell you what to do. You need to feel it, so you’ll know what she’s talking about.”

Ten minutes later I was climbing on behind him. I wasn’t sure how to ask Bash with Gonzo around, but finally just said it, because I needed to know. “You won’t be with us, so I can’t flirt?”

He grinned and blew me a kiss. “Flirt all you want. No hanky-panky, though. I’ll clean up here and meet ya’ll at your apartment. Dawg doesn’t have to work tonight, and I still owe you a spankin’.”

My heart skipped a few beats, blood surged to my clit, and Dawg started the engine — all at once. I leaned into him, patted his stomach, and he took off.

She purred under us like a huge-assed vibrator, but I still listened carefully to make sure she was tight. Dawg took us through town to the Olgiati Bridge, and we went over the river and hit Corridor J with wide-open roads he could play on. I talked him through heating the engine, letting it rest, and then stressing it again as we flew past the other vehicles. We went through the cycle a handful of times, and then took a circuitous route back to my apartment. Bash’s bike was parked behind my car when we pulled in, so Dawg parked beside my bike.

I saw movement from my right as I dismounted, and turned to see Thomas staring at us. I froze a second, unsure of how to react. He looked openly hostile, but I decided it never hurt to smile, so I flashed what I hoped was a friendly smile, and then turned to Dawg.

“So, how did she feel? You happy?”

“Same suspension, same basic feel, but so much better. You weren’t kidding about giving her back to me tight and full of wiggle. I think I’m in love.”

I let him put his arm around my waist as we walked to my apartment, and I could practically feel Thomas’s eyes boring into my back but I didn’t turn around to look. I had an extra web cam, and I was going to set it up to keep an eye on the car and bikes, so if he did anything to them we’d have proof.

Angelica

Bash watched me set the camera up in the window and make sure it was recording to my computer. He didn’t ask why, which I took to mean he didn’t want to talk about Thomas, either.

Dawg, however, had no such compunctions. “If you had the cam, why’d you ask Brain to put recording equipment in before?”

“My cam is noticeable, and Brain had cool hidden cameras. Plus, I wanted him monitoring it in real time. I had the enemy in my apartment and I was worried he’d twist my words. This’ll just be a way to prove the asshole messed with our vehicles, if he does.”

Bash put his arms around me from behind, nuzzled his nose into my neck, and said, “You know, if he keeps bein’ a problem I’ll have to take care of him.”

I shook my head. “Too dangerous. Something happens to him and they’ll come looking at you and me first. The last thing you or the club needs is cops going over your lives with a fine toothed comb.”

“If it comes to it, we’ll arrange for something to happen while we have a kickass alibi. Some big charity event with cameras, and we’ll make sure we’re seen the whole time. I’m not eighteen anymore, Princess. Little smarter now.”

“You weren’t stupid back then. You did what the situation called for.”

“When’s the last time you swept your apartment for bugs?” Dawg asked, sprawled on my sofa.

“I swept this morning. Been doing it twice a day but haven’t found anything else. Also, there haven’t been any strange scents in here. He managed it before because I invited him in. Won’t happen again.”

“I swept again when I got here,” Bash said. “Smelled him in the parking lot. My wolf didn’t like it.”

“I smell barbecue,” I noted, changing the subject. “Does this mean you picked up a feast for ten on your way here?”

He nodded and walked me to the kitchen. “Your balcony’s plenty big enough for a table and chairs so we can eat outside. You good with me buying something and settin’ it up?”

“You trying to tell me you’re officially moving in?”

He paused a second, but then smiled. “Not what I was getting at, but I guess you’re right, if I’m considering buying furniture. Needs a longer conversation, so I’ll hold off on buying anything until we can have it.”

“Ya’ll need me to go?” asked Dawg.

“Nope, sit down and eat, brother. My Princess gets a reward spanking tonight, and I figure she might need something in her mouth to keep her quiet so the neighbors don’t hear.”

Dawg came up behind me, kissed the side of my neck, and wrapped his arms around me. Goose bumps crawled over my skin, my nipples went hard, and I shivered a little as heat traversed through my veins and headed towards my clit. “Fuck, me,” I moaned as I leaned backwards, into him.

“Sorry, Girly. Not authorized to put my cock anywhere but your mouth, and you’re about to put food there. Looking forward to seeing your ass turn a nice shade of red later, though.”

He turned me in his arms, kissed my forehead, and then pulled me into his embrace, my head beneath his chin.

“If we decide this is a long-term thing, I’ll eventually let you take her ass,” Bash told him. “Not ready to share it just yet, though.”

“And I’ll never be in her pussy, which is ironic.” Dawg kissed my forehead again and turned me so I was beside my chair. Discombobulated, I sat and accepted the plate Bash handed me, my mouth watering despite my arousal as I steadied myself and helped open the containers from the barbecue place — we had huge Texas toast, baked beans, slaw, two kinds of sauce, and a mountain of pulled pork. Bash knew how to make me happy.

“Why’s it ironic?” I finally managed to ask.

They looked at each other a second, and Bash said, “I don’t put my cock in pussy, as a general rule. So, when Dawg and I’ve shared in the past, I took their ass while he got their cunt.”

I was about to ask why he didn’t fuck their pussies, but he answered my question before I even opened my mouth. “Don’t trust condoms, don’t trust bitches who’re just hookups to remember to take the damned pill every fucking day, and I never wanted to have kids with someone I wasn’t sure would be a good mother.”

He’d not only been in my pussy more times than I could count — he’d done it without a condom. Bash was telling me he thought I’d be a good mom, and my eyes watered as I grasped his veiled compliment.

He gave me a soft smile, his eyes kind as he saw my reaction. “I’m not saying I want to have kids with you just yet, Princess. Just saying I can put my cock in your cunt without freaking out about it.”

And he didn’t want anyone else in my pussy, because if I happened to get pregnant, he wanted to be sure the baby was his. He’d said it before, but I hadn’t realized what a big deal it was to him.

“I don’t know what to say. I’m somewhere between flattered and freaked out, I guess.”

Bash spooned food onto his plate as he shook his head, “Glad you’re flattered, no need to freak out, though. I trust you to be responsible with birth control, and to let me know if it becomes iffy and I need to wrap up. I don’t trust a lot of people with that, which wasn’t a hardship because I love doing girls up the ass.”

A conversation I overheard some of the girls having, long ago, when I was maybe seventeen or eighteen, came back to me. One of them was complaining that she’d been kind of a steady fuck for him for a couple of months, and he’d only been in her pussy twice. He was in her ass the rest of the time, and she was asking if it was normal to be so sore. The girls had said if he was taking her back there two or three times a day, as she’d told them, then it’d be fucked up if her ass
wasn’t
sore.

I fished around in my head for her name, couldn’t come up with it. “A few years after you weren’t my bitch anymore,” he glared at me, but I ignored him and kept going, “you dated a tall, thin, blonde. Not the skanks you usually fucked, she was different.”

“Angie, yeah, what about her?”

“I overheard her talking to the other women. Said you always took her ass. You’d been together months, though I didn’t gather it was exclusive, but she said you’d only fucked her pussy twice.”

“Likely just as she was comin’ off the rag,” Dawg said as he reached for his drink. “So he’d know she wasn’t likely to get preggers.”

My gaze went from Dawg’s face to Bash’s. “Women put up with that? Why? I mean, you’re good, but…”

He grinned. “Yeah, I
am
that good.” He shrugged. “It’s usually considered bad form to talk about past conquests with the current squeeze. How much you wanna know?”

“This is an antique transmission, and you’re explaining it. Go into teacher mode, educate me.”

He lifted an eyebrow, and I realized I probably sounded a little bossy. “Sorry.
Please
go into teacher mode, and give me a fucking break, this is an uncomfortable conversation.”

“Some girls prefer anal over vaginal, and some prefer vaginal but get turned on by the fact you won’t give it to them. It’s a control thing. Some of them, while they hate it as it’s happening, are turned on by orgasm denial — bein’ worked up close and then denied, over and over. Bein’ kept hot all the time, but not allowed release. For some, having to pleasure me with their ass while I deny them pleasure to their pussy or clit, is just what they need. Maybe not what they
want
, but what they need.”

The idea of being denied was both repugnant and, well, oddly hot. I liked Bash taking control and telling me what to do. Would it be fun to let him deny my orgasms? Or would it just piss me off?

I wasn’t ready to have that conversation. Might never be ready for it. I looked to Dawg and asked, “You do that? Deny women orgasms?”

“Not for days or weeks at a time, like Bash. I might keep them on edge for an hour or two, but then I love watching them come unglued when I finally push them over the top. I’ve helped him out, when he was making sure a girl was frustrated. He’d have me use her when he finished, but only ass or mouth, and I had to make sure she didn’t get enough stimulation to get off. There’s a bit of a sadist in me, I guess, because I could have fun with it and enjoy their distress, but only with
his
girls. I like keeping mine happy, usually.”

I looked to Bash and said, “I won’t rule out exploring it in the future, but it isn’t something I want to do now. You get that, right?”

“Yeah, Princess. We’re new, still figuring each other out. Eventually, you’ll want to branch out and explore, and when you do, you’ll let me figure out how to please you. You get that, too, right? It won’t be a negotiation. If I think you need more,
I’ll
decide how to go about it.”

His words fanned the fires already blazing inside me, but I wasn’t going to give in so easily. “I get that you’re a macho bad-ass he-man who thinks he can go all caveman on the little girl. Don’t forget, though. This wolf has teeth.”

Dawg chuckled. “Going to be so much fun to watch the two of you. Never thought Bash would meet his match.” He lifted his beer bottle towards me as if offering a toast. “Stay true to yourself, Tink — no matter what. If givin’ him control in the bedroom flicks your Bic, let him have it, but it doesn’t mean he gets to dictate the rest of your life.”

“Thanks, Dawg. The more time I spend around you, the more I think I understand your name. The other guys have no idea how you get so much pussy, do they?”

“Bash gets it. And Brain. Duke. Maybe a few others, but you’re right about a lot of them not gettin’ it.”

Thankfully, our dinner conversation went to more mundane topics, and then the three of us decided to go for a walk and let our dinner settle. The Walnut Street Bridge was full of people walking, running, biking, and rollerblading. We strolled across it, made our way down to Coolidge Park, and I told them I wanted to ride the carousel. At first, Bash said he’d just watch, but Dawg said he’d ride with me, and Bash eventually changed his mind. Bash went straight to the rabbit, and I remembered him bringing me a huge rabbit when we were wolves. His smile told me he knew I remembered, and I climbed on the frog wearing the silly yellow suit. Dawg laughed at both of us as he climbed on the tiger.

We laughed, cut up, and gave each other goofy smiles as we rode the silly animals in a circle while the traditional carousel music blasted around us. When it was over and I got off the frog, I had to hold onto the pole a second until my equilibrium righted itself. Bash put his arm around my waist, and Dawg came to my other side and did the same. I have no idea what the other patrons thought of us as we walked out, but we were just goofing off and having fun, and I noted more people smiled at us than glared.

We ran back across the bridge, and I called dibs on the shower when we made it back to my apartment.

“Oh no,” said Bash. “You and Dawg in the shower, and then you and me. Off with your clothes and get in. I’ll send Dawg in to you in a few minutes.”

I decided not to argue.

Dawg took over sudsing my hair when he stepped under the water with me, and I gave a pleasurable moan as he massaged my scalp.

“You know Bash isn’t likely to ever wash your hair for you, right? He’ll treat you right, take care of you in his own way, but he isn’t exactly a romantic.”

I chuckled, but didn’t point out I’d managed to train him well enough when I was fifteen and he was eighteen, and I didn’t even have sex to use as a training tool back then. He hadn’t exactly obeyed my orders, but we’d come to a nice truce and I’d managed to get him to stop being an ass. He’d been required to run the guys off and keep me out of trouble, there was nothing I could do about that, but I’d adjusted his attitude about most everything else, and we’d become friends.

“I don’t want to change him,” I told Dawg. “I know who he is and I love him anyway.” And that was the God’s honest truth. There might be some small, nitpicky things I wouldn’t mind adjusting, but I truly didn’t want to change him.

The conditioner was on my hair and I was sudsing Dawg’s cock and balls when Bash stuck his head around the shower curtain. He watched my hand on Dawg’s cock a minute and said, “Love watching you do that, Princess, but I think it might be my turn in the shower. Rinse him off. Won’t hurt him to sport a stiffy while you get me clean.”

I looked in Dawg’s eyes as I gave him a few final, slow, firm, strokes, and he leaned forward and kissed my forehead. “Not a good idea to taunt the man who’s going to be spanking you later tonight, Girly.”

I looked back and forth between the two, and told Dawg, “I wasn’t taunting him, I was just giving you a few final strokes. A tease of what’s to come later.”

He reached for the handheld shower unit and rinsed himself as I backed up, his grin mischievous and playful.

“I need a bigger shower,” I noted as Dawg got out and Bash got in.

“I have a bigger shower, but the MC is gonna need to know about the three of us before I have the two of you over,” Dawg said as he dried off. “Brothers are in and out of my house too much.”

Bash took the soap from me and started on his arm pits. I leaned against the back wall and drawled, “Soooo sexy.”

I was being half smart-ass and half-serious. He
was
sexy, with his scruffy short beard, muscles all wet and glistening under the water, and cock hard enough to be interesting but not so much it was standing proud. And yet, he wasn’t trying to be sexy — wasn’t even
considering
how it looked to step into the shower and start washing his pits. He wanted them clean, he washed them.