The Diary of Bink Cummings: Vol 3 (MC Chronicles #3) (15 page)

“Don’t leave this room till I get back, Baby Doll,” he orders over his shoulder on his way out, not even awaiting my reply.

Yeah, like I am going to listen to that. If I want to get up, I will.

I take a deep breath to calm my nerves, and Beth pats my hand, drawing my attention.

“Whoa,” Jezebel remarks once Gunz is out of earshot.

“She’s gonna be sore tomorrow for Easter,” Pixie adds.

Ever since Dixie and Brew were hitched and I moved back to the compound, Niki has spent a lot more time around the Sacred Sisters. It has a lot to do with Dixie since they’re close. With her being around so much, you learn new things, which includes shit about her and Gunz’s relationship.

According to Niki, shortly after I’d moved to Chicago, they started a semi-exclusive relationship. Meaning she can only fuck whoever he approves of, when he gives permission, but he can screw whatever bitch he wants, whenever he wants, without consequence. To me, it sounds like a bunch of double standard bullshit, but it works for them apparently. Among this twisted relationship of theirs, they dabble in BDSM, more so on the B&D and less on the S&M. Or that’s how she explained it to me and the rest of the sisters one family dinner night at the clubhouse. Let me tell ya, it was quite the titillating conversation over meatball subs and chocolate chip cookies.

“Niki slept with Big,” Beth asks, unmistakably astounded.

“Yes, multiple times,” I keep my voice even.

“And that doesn’t bother you?”

Beth is new to this lifestyle, so it only makes sense that she’d be taken aback. It affects a lot of people that way. Do you think you could be friends with someone your boyfriend or husband fucked numerous times? How about if that chick also fucked other men you are close with? For some, it would be hard to swallow. For me, it’s not. Sex is just sex unless there’s intimacy and emotion behind it. It’s apparent that Beth views it like many women do - sex equals romantic feelings. I’m not saying it doesn’t sometimes, but in Big’s case, I know he’s never felt love while fucking a club whore. He isn’t wired that way. I’m not either. It’s neither wrong nor right the way we were raised, it just
is.

“Not really,” I shrug. “It’s not like we talk about it or compare notes.”

If we did, I’d be livid. However, knowing a woman or twenty that Big’s fucked around with kind of comes with the territory. I may not like it, but at the same time it’s not that big of a deal to me. He is the club’s president, and women do throw themselves at him. I can’t blame him for taking a piece of the action whenever he saw fit. As long as he keeps his dick to himself now, that’s all I give a shit about. The past is the past. If Beth only knew how many times Dixie and Niki both have fucked Runner, it might make her see them, him, and the MC in a whole new light. Not that I want that. I like Beth a lot, and I’d like to keep her around.

Speaking of Runner….

“So Beth, what’s up with you and Runner?” I probe, changing the subject. Figured now is as good a time as ever to find out what I’m dying to know.

She blushes, turning her head away, “Nothing.”

“Uh huh,” I’m not buying it. I know there is something going on between the two of them, but they’ve been playing so aloof about it.

“We’re just talking,” she explains nonchalantly.

“What kind of talking?” I press.

“As friends.”

“Have you two?” I would normally call her out and blatantly ask if they’ve fucked. Not with Beth though because she’s too shy.

“Have we what?”

She’s clueless. Guess I’m going to have to just come out and say it.

“Had sex,” I clarify softly.

Both of her eyebrows reach her hairline and her eyes widen, “No!” she blurts, affronted, “Why—why would I do that? I barely know him.”

“He is a man, Beth.”

“So….,” she tucks a strand of her brown hair behind her ear.

“They have needs.” Please say she is picking up what I’m puttin’ down. I know I don’t do sugar coating very well.

“Do you think he wants to?”

This should really be laughable by how clueless she is, but it’s not. It’s cute. This woman is older than I am, and this pretty much confirms my suspicion that she’s either a virgin or very inexperienced. One way or the other, she’s adorably naive.

I smile sweetly at her, “He’s a man, Beth and you’re beautiful. So yes I’m sure he more than wants to.”

“Bink’s right, honey,” Jezebel confirms.

Didn’t even know she was paying a lick of attention to us. Guess I was mistaken.

Beth, overflowing with anxiety rubs her face, neck and face again, and brings her closed hand to her mouth and starts to nervously nibble on her pinkie nail. No wonder Runner likes her; she’s so loveable. Too bad he’s a complete underserving douchebag. If Deke didn’t have so much baggage, he and Beth would be the perfect couple. But for whatever stupid reason, she’s taken a liking to Runner.

All of the sisters remain silent to give Beth the time she needs to process all of what I’ve said and calm down.

“I—I—don’t know. He’s never said anything,” she mutters, speaking more to herself than to us.

“Have you kissed?” Pixie questions gently.

Beth shakes her head innocently, “Not on the lips. He’s kissed my cheek and hand a couple times.”

He kissed her hand? Holy shit!

“What else?” I press, not that I really need to know. I’m just being nosy.

“We’ve held hands, and we text every day, but that’s it.”

How is that possible? Are we seriously talking about the same man?

“What do you think of Runner?” I enquire as evenly as possible, still unable to swallow the fact that he kisses her fucking hand and cheek and texts her every day, yet he’s not fucked her.

“I like him. He makes me feel….” she tapers off, looking deep in thought.

“Special?” Jezebel questions.

“Beautiful?” Candy Cane adds.

“Loved?” Dixie blurts.

“Safe?” Pixie throws in.

“Whole?” I finish.

Eyes averted, and folding her hands into her robe clad lap, Beth demurely nods along with each nosy inquiry. “He respects me and is very nice to me and my grandpa,” she wrings her hands in her lap, fumbling with them.

“Does Jonesy like him?” I ask as my nail tech pops the plug on my foot tub and the water begins to swirl down the drain. Resting my feet on the padded edge, I flex my toes, admiring the fresh hot pink polish and white hibiscus flowers on my big toes. They’re pretty.

“He’d better. Runner lets him win at chess,” Beth answers as her nail tech empties her foot tub as well.

What?!

“He plays chess with Jonesy?” Candy Cane takes the words right of my stunned mouth.

“Yes, every Tuesday night he does, and we order pizza for dinner. Unless he’s gone, like he is this week.” Beth states, still looking at her hands in her lap.

“I can’t believe we’re all talking about the same Runner,” I blurt.

“The same could be said about you and Big too, Bink,” Candy Cane states, finishing up her pedicure. “Men change for the one who completes ‘em.”

She’s got a point.

“She’s right. Think about Brew and screwing everything with a pussy,” Dixie explains. “I don’t see him straying now.”

That’s true, I suppose. My brother the male whore. Aren’t most of the brothers’ reformed male whores? Except maybe Deke and Gypsy. The rest either fuck whores like they’ll die tomorrow, or they have old ladies, which they still fuck like they’ll die tomorrow.

The conversations drift off, and we relax, until all the sisters finish with their pedicures and manicures. Sarah brings me a glass of cucumber water. I’m nearly finished with it when Gunz returns without Niki and explains that she will not be joining us until tonight, because she’s taken a cab back to the hotel to rest.

Pixie and I make eye contact, passing our feelings without words. She was right. Niki is going to be hurting tomorrow. I’d hate to know what kind of punishment Gunz inflicted.

“I hope she’s alright,” Beth speaks to Gunz, back to her normal self.

“She’ll be fine. She didn’t get anything that she couldn’t handle,” he explains while striding across the room to my chair. He offers me his hand, and I take it into mine. Then he helps me from the massage chair. Standing safely on the cool tile, Gunz releases my hand before he retrieves my slippers and kneels to place them back on my feet. I rest my hands on his shoulders for support, so I don’t fall over.

“Thanks,” I comment when he stands back up.

“Anything for you,” he grins.

Wrapping his arm around my lower back, he curls me to his warm side. Instinctively, I snuggle into him and rest my head on his chest. Reaching into his cut with his free hand, he pulls out and sucker and pops it into his mouth.

“You want?” he offers, and I shake my head.

“Thank you though,” I kiss his muscled chest over the cotton of his navy long sleeved t-shirt.

Once everyone is finished, we head to the salon portion of the upscale spa to get facials and treatments for our hair. Jezebel opts to add a streak of purple through her hair. Pixie has the stylist redo her chunky blue highlights. Dixie adds a thin deep purple streak by her face. And by the end of the day, Pixie convinces me to join the sisters and add a hot pink streak through the side of my blonde hair. I opt to go with semi-permanent just in case I don’t like it. I’ve never done the coloring thing before.

Back in the spa’s white marbled locker room, we undress out of the luxurious terry cloth robes and redress in our street clothes. For me, it is a pair of black maternity pants, a sassy maternity t-shirt, and my black studded flats. Although, I’d much rather stay in the robe. I need to buy myself one for home. They’re too sinful not to own one.

Fully dressed and purse slung over my shoulder, I reach into my bag’s zippered side to check my phone and wait for the rest of the sisters as they get dressed. I have two missed calls and two texts.

Big: Must be no cell reception in the spa. I’m just checkin in. Love you. Give me a call around dinner.

Deke: The girls have decided to adopt Pretzel. He’s been over here since ya left and the girls and him are having a blast. Miss. H told me to tell you she wants a weird eyed doggy for Christmas.

Smiling, I laugh out loud, shaking my head with amusement. Of course Miss. H wants a doggy. What doesn’t that sassy little girl want? Two weeks ago, she wanted a purple pony named Twilight Sparkle. Instead, Bulk bought her an oversized Twilight Sparkle My Little Pony to appease her. It worked for one hot minute.

Ignoring Big’s text, I reply to Deke’s while exiting the spa’s locker room with some of my sisters bringing up the rear.

Me: We can do shared parenting. Happy he’s behaving. Thanks again for watching him.

Meeting up with Gunz in the opulent reception area, my phone buzzes in my hand. I stop next to the leather sofas.

Deke: Don’t thank me. Just have a pleasant weekend. You deserve it. The girls say they miss you. I do too. See ya tomorrow.

“Big textin’ ya?” Jezebel asks, sidling up to my left, clad in her jeans and purple t-shirt.

I look up from my phone and tuck it back into my purse, “No, it’s Deke. Is Miss. H staying with him? I thought Deb was watching the kids?”

Jezebel nods, “She was supposed to, but Deke’s keeping Miss. H and Deb has Gabe.”

“So Deke is watching my dog, his two girls, and Miss. H? That’s a lot to handle.” Biting my inner cheek, I stare straight out of the front windows clutching my purse. That would be a lot for even a woman to deal with. No offense to men, but most of them can’t handle themselves, let alone three girls and a pit bull.

“He’ll be fine, Bink. I know that look. We are not going home so you can help,” Jez comments, watching me like a hawk. I can feel her eyes drilling into the side of my face, and I see her out of the corner of my eye. She knows me too damn well.

I frown. “But that’s a lot.” I know it shouldn’t bother me, but I do worry about Deke. I don’t want him to bite off more than he can chew. He’s had enough to handle with his ex-bitch.

Jezebel shakes her head and places a hand on my shoulder. “He’s a grown ass man. The girls and a dog ain’t gonna break him. And Debbie is there to help if he needs it.”

“But—,”

“No buts,” she sternly cuts me off, and squeezes my shoulder with love. “This is our weekend to relax, not worry.”

Conceding, I sigh, “Fine.”

The remaining stragglers join us in the reception area. It’s time to roll out. Gunz steps out of the front glass doors first and does a quick scan of the bustling street, with his hand tucked under the back of his cut where his gun holster is located. He’s definitely taking these security measures to the extreme.

Waving for us to come out of the spa, Gunz’s hand remains under his cut as we depart. The sisters and I stroll along the sidewalk chatting all the way to the suburban. Gunz brings up the rear, his eyes raptly assessing every passerby as they come. This is going to get old quick.

I slide into the passenger seat, and the girls clamber into the back. Gunz waits until I am secure before he shoots around the front of the suburban, gets in, and swiftly turns the engine over.