Perfect Collision (21 page)

“What?” she asked with a frightened face.

Bear sat down on the chair next to hers. “My ex-wife called and was upset about Mac and Vi. Any idea how she could've found out about that?” When she opened her mouth he held up her hand. “And keep in mind that I might dislike gossip, but I detest lying.”

“She calls me and asks me about stuff.”

“Stuff?”

“About Vi mostly. How she's doing.”

That was something of a surprise, and even if it pissed him off it at least meant Ella gave a shit about Vi. But if she wanted to know, she should've asked him or called Vi herself.

“I suggest you stop discussing my daughter with anyone, even if it happens to be her mom. In fact, I suggest you simply do your job and don't talk to anyone about anything you might see or hear here or at the clubhouse.”

“Okay.” Nikki nodded vigorously. “I won't.”

“Who else is she talking to?”

“I don't think she's talking to anyone else.”

“Make sure and get back to me.” He leaned closer. “Can I assume you're going to keep your mouth shut from now on, or do I need to ask Bull here to teach you a lesson?”

She looked at Bull with big eyes. Bull had a nasty reputation even among the girls. So much of a reputation, he hardly ever needed to actually
do
anything anymore. Just standing there usually did the trick. Everyone knew he'd do what was needed to make them understand, cooperate, or just fess up—especially people like Nikki, who were close to the club.

“No,” she whispered and shook her head. “I won't tell her anything.”

“I think you should promise me to not tell
anyone
anything.”

“I promise.”

“Good.” Bear stood up and left the room.

Bull came a few minutes later, and when Bear raised an eyebrow he shrugged. “Just wanted to make sure she got the full picture.”

“Okay. I'm heading back to the clubhouse. You staying here?”

“Yeah. Might as well,” Bull muttered and went to the bar.

Bear left for the clubhouse. A few beers later, Amanda came over to him. He hadn't seen much of her since Mac's birthday party—months earlier.

“Hey, baby,” he said and pulled her into his lap. “Where have you been?”

“I've been busy. I'm moving from Greenville next week. Thought I'd come by to say goodbye.” She said it with a smile and leaned closer. “Maybe give me an all-nighter for the road?”

He grabbed her neck and gave her a kiss. He'd be more than happy to do that.

CHAPTER TEN:

Cherry Blossoms and Butterflies

-o0o-

THE ERGONOMIC CHAIR I
was sitting on didn't feel all that ergonomic. I didn't care much at the moment, though, because I was sitting at my very own work station!

I looked around; it was still empty. The tables, shelves, and walls were all cleaned out and ready to be filled with my own stuff. I was planning to put my own designs on the walls, and ask Sami if I could do a wall painting, too. It'd been fun to do it at Mac's place, and this was a chance to do another one.

“Do you like it?” Sami asked.

“I like what it means.”

It meant I was one of them. Even if my name wouldn't go up on the front window yet, if it ever did, I was now officially one of the artists working at Wicked Ink. I was a tattoo artist! Well, I was still an apprentice, but I'd be allowed to take on customers.

I'd be paying rent for the work station, but he'd cut the price on my fee on the condition I kept doing some work at the shop, and gave him a small percentage of the money I made on tattoos. It was a fair deal, better than I'd get in most places.

He handed me a gift. “This is from all of us. You'll need it.”

I opened it, and it was a portfolio in leather to put in pictures of tattoos I'd done. It was obviously purple and had my name engraved on it. I ran my fingers over the letters. It looked expensive and really professional.

“Thank you. Thank you so much!”

“I'm still your teacher, but this,” he pointed around us with a wave, “means you're getting there, and you'll get to book your own customers. I still want you to consult me on
every
tattoo! I decide what you can do, and I still want you to keep to the simpler stuff when it's people you don't know.”

“I know, Sami. I'm not stupid, and I'm not gonna ruin my reputation before I even have one by doing
things that are beyond me. You know that.”

“I do know that,” he said with a smile. Then he looked around. “This is your station, so make it yours.”

I pointed at the wall. “Can I paint that?”

“Sure,” he shrugged. “Make sure you keep Trixie informed of what days you're working. You have a calendar now,” he said with a wink. “It means you can set your own hours however you want as long as you get the job done. I'll send some small jobs your way, and I'm sure the others have things they'll be happy to get rid of.”

“Cherry blossoms and butterflies,” I smiled, but I didn't give a shit. I had a calendar and a portfolio!

“Cherry blossoms and butterflies,” he confirmed. “Probably a fairy or two, too.”

“I'm fine with that.”

“Just giving you a heads up.”

He left, and I kept looking around with an impossibly big smile. This was so huge—enormous! Even if I'd do nothing but flash tattoos for the coming year, I couldn't have cared less. I'd make some money of my own, because I was actually a fucking tattoo artist!

“With a smile like that you better be thinking about me,” Mac said as he showed up at the door.

“This is my work station,” I tried to explain.

“What?”

“I have my own workspace now—this is all mine! I have a calendar and this,” I held up the purple leather book, “a portfolio.”

His smiled and pulled me out of the uncomfortable chair. “Yeah? So my girl is really a tattoo artist then?” I nodded and put my arms around his neck. “So would my girl maybe do some ink on me?”

“Yes, your upper body is unbalanced. I can fix that.”

“I bet you can.”

I sneaked my hands under his clothes, and placed my hands on the upper part of his chest. “You should do something here. On both sides.”

“Yup, but not today. Today I'm taking you to dinner to celebrate. I think you'll like the place I have in mind.”

It was a tapas place, and he told me to order for the both of us. He didn't ask me about Mom, and I was glad he didn't. I wasn't ready to talk about it and assumed Dad'd already filled him in. We ate and talked about other things instead. A lot about the tattoo on his chest and what he wanted.

After dinner, he took me to his place, made us popcorn, and fired up a movie. Obviously we didn't watch much of the movie, and soon I was naked on his bed while he was giving me head.

Just as the night before, he pressed his fingers inside me and the feeling was... incredible, but I wanted more. I sat up, interrupting him, and pulled off his jeans and t-shirt.

“I wasn't done,” he laughed and kissed me. I could taste myself on his lips. It used to gross me out, but now I kind of liked it. When I pushed him to his back, he chuckled again. “Baby, you're getting very bossy in bed. I like it.”

“Yeah?” I smiled, leaned over him, pulled down his briefs, and licked his dick—its full length—and he groaned. “Like that?” I asked.

“Fucking love that. Jesus, baby!”

I was straddling his thighs and holding his eyes with mine. I slowly slid higher up, almost holding my breath, hoping he wouldn't stop me. He wasn't moving, not a single muscle. Then I carefully did the same thing as I'd done the night before, rubbing myself against the root of his dick, but this time we were naked.

When I felt the underside of his dick against my clit, I made a completely new sound. It felt so good. He was making similar noises, but still wasn't moving, just staring at me. I had the biggest knot in my stomach, and no matter how great it felt to rub against him, it still wasn't enough.

I kept moving back and forth while holding my breath, still waiting for him to stop me, but he didn't even try.

It was so smooth; I loved how smooth it felt against me. Like silk or velvet over wood. I didn't know if it was considered big, but it felt big and rubbing myself against it felt like... not enough.

It was great, but I still had that knot in my stomach, and a
need
for more. I kept looking into his eyes, and moved even further up along his dick it. When his tip hit my opening, I gasped, and at the same time he grabbed my hips and groaned in a very thick voice,

“Break! Break, oh fuck, you drive me crazy, babe. Break!”

“No!” I gasped and closed my eyes. He was just there. I could feel him, and if I just pushed... “Pleasepleaseplease!”

“Open your eyes, Katze.” His voice was still strained, and I did as he asked. My hands were resting on his chest, and we were both breathing heavily.  “You sure about this?”

“Yes, please! Please let me.”

“Move carefully. It's gonna hurt a bit, okay?”

“I know. Please?”

He nodded and loosened his grip, but kept his hands there, and I liked it. I always liked his hands on my bare skin. There was really nothing in the situation I didn't like. So, I eased down, slowly, still looking at him.

“Jesus, honey, you're so tight. God this is good. You still okay?”

I nodded. It did stretch a little, but it didn't hurt. I tried rolling my hips, moving up and down on him.

“Oh, fuck!”

“Shit, you okay?” he asked again.

“Yes! Oh, yes.” It felt great; I felt filled.

Then it hurt, and I stopped.

“Baby?”

“Wait.”

It suddenly wasn't as great, but not exactly painful—more uncomfortable. I tried to move slowly, but it still stretched. Finally, I just pressed hard to get it over with, probably making some grimace, because Mac tried to stop me with his hold of my hips.

“Vi? Shit, oh god.”

Even while it was hurting, I found it funny how he was in between loving it and being concerned about me. He sat up, still holding my hips. I put my arm around his shoulders, then sank down till it felt like he'd hit my bottom.

“Are you okay, Katze?”

He was sweating, small beads were forming on his forehead, and his face was tense. His eyes were showing something between pleasure and worry. I stroked his beard, meeting his eyes. They were always so kind, he always looked at me with the most kind eyes. Warm.

“Yes,” I mumbled and hugged him again.

I rose again and even if it still felt a bit raw, it was... strange... and good, and... I hugged him tighter.

I liked it.

When I lowered, and he slowly filled me up completely, we both moaned. He ran his hands up my back, holding me close.

I did it again and the chafing feeling was almost gone. It was still as if I was a bit
too
filled, but also good. I tried to move in different ways to try to find the rhythm and the movements that felt best.

“Lean back a little,” he mumbled.

“No, I want you close.”

I wanted him close to me to feel anchored. This was just so big, and I needed him right there with me.

“Okay.” He kissed the side of my neck.

I kept up with the slow movements, then I leaned back a little anyway, since I wanted to know what he looked like, and his face was amazing. Closed eyes, his mouth slightly open, and when I caressed his face he smiled but kept his eyes closed. His hands were back on my hips—guiding me.

I soon realized that if I let him, he made it feel so much better. Like he knew how I should move to make sure he reached all the right places inside of me.

“Babe, you're so tight and so wet,” he mumbled with his eyes still closed.

My legs were getting tired, and he must have noticed, because he moved me around to my back and took over. His thrusts were slow, long, and deep. They touched my entire insides, making me feel all of him, and I was starting to relax.

He hugged me tight with his arm around my neck, and his other hand took mine and lifted it over my head—interlacing our fingers.

He pushed harder and there was no pain or chafing anymore—none at all. It was only good, really good, and once again he noticed I was ready for the next step.

“Hook your leg around my hip, Katze.”

And when I did, it got even better. I was amazed by how it just kept getting better. I squeezed his hand.

“I liked that,” I mumbled.

“Yeah? Let go of my hand, baby. I'll show you something else you'll like.”

I did, and his hand went down between us and found my clit. He was right; I liked that. A lot!

By now my hips were moving again, meeting his thrusts, and it seemed as if I just trusted my body, gave it control, it automatically made everything better.

“Fucking hell, Katze,” he rasped into my ear. “I'm so close—you feel so good. Can't fucking believe I'm finally inside you.” He kissed my ear. “So good, baby.”

I felt it coming. It was different than when he made me come with his hands and mouth. It was slower, deeper. More from my core, starting from my crotch and traveling along the insides of my thighs and up my stomach. I threw my arms and legs around Mac, holding him tight. I needed him close again.

“Mac...”

“Oh shit, babe,” he panted. “Fuck, didn't think you could get any tighter.”

He shifted up to his elbows above me, but I didn't like that and tried to pull him back down.

“Mac, I need you close.”

“Open your eyes, Vi.” It helped to see him, but I couldn't keep them open for long, and he leaned his forehead to mine. “Jesus! This is...”

He didn't finish the sentence, but it didn't matter, because I hardly noticed anything besides the feeling still running through me. Right to that knot, like, releasing it—spreading the ripples from it throughout my body. It made me arch and the intensity almost scared me. Then his hips started to move differently, more... uncontrolled, and he was pounding into me, but it didn't hurt. It...