The Bare Bones (The Bare Bones MC) (28 page)

“Woman,” he snarled in between bites, “you drive me abso-fucking-lutely out of my mind.” He snarled and bit some more, then took a little break to pant against my breastbone, as though afraid he’d spontaneously come. “We need fucking protection. I didn’t bring any to Laughlin.”

“Don’t need it.” I panted too, squeezing his beautiful thigh between mine, my fist wrapped around his long, fat dick. “I tested myself. I’m not a Tay-Sachs carrier.”

Of course, I was assuming that was his only fear. It was hugely arrogant to assume he wasn’t more fearful of any pregnancy at all, period. But I’d played my cards right. He drew back from me, regarding me with eyes of wonder. His beautiful nostrils flared and his chest rose and fell with his panting, and he fixed me with those puppy dog eyes.

“That’s…that’s amazing, Maddy. That’s…excellent.”

I said pertly, “You might not even be a carrier. Just because both your parents were doesn’t mean you are. We can test you, too.”

We just stared stupidly at each other, lovestruck, with my hand around his throbbing cock. Then, just as suddenly as we’d stop, we leaped into action again.

Standing, Ford twirled me around like a clumsy ballerina. My palms slapped against the table, which was more of a rickety potting shelf that held trowels and stakes. He yanked my flimsy panties down to one tennis shoe, and I spread my feet apart to demonstrate my acceptance of his authority, his prowess, his virility. My pussy clenched in anticipation of his entrance, and he didn’t disappoint. He speared me smoothly, easily, uttering a groan of the utmost satisfaction that must have shaken him to his toes, his balls.

Arching my back, I felt around behind my head for him. “I’m wide open,” I assured him.

He pinched my clit between his fingertips, making me gasp as he seated himself deep inside me. “Ah God, Maddy. When you talk like that my balls ache for you.”

“Make me come, you asshole. I want you to feel me coming around your plump, juicy cock.” I wiggled my hips in that pole dancer’s way men are suckers for.

His fingers set to diddling my clit in earnest. I was so hot, so wide open for my big hunk of a man, within a minute I was teetering on the verge of climax. I hadn’t toyed with any BOB or shower head in recent months. Giving birth had put a kibosh on any self-love, and having a bedroom on the same floor as that odious Bill critic jerk put a kibosh on practically everything else.

So no, it didn’t take long, between Ford’s prick knocking at my womb and filling me completely, and his dexterous fingers tickling my clit like a butterfly’s wings. Sighing ever faster like the wind through a clipper’s sails, I toppled off that cliff and sank into the most gut-wrenching orgasm of my entire fucking life.

I mean, my internal clitoral arms
wrenched
the orgasm from my womb. I had not been torn like this since childbirth, and I had to hold my breath as my toes curled upward. A giant clenching fist seemed ready to break one of my internal organs. It was so intense I couldn’t even revel in the pleasure of Ford’s own orgasm, his prick jerking inside me as he splashed load after load of jism against my cervix.

I came
forever
. He didn’t let up with his diddling, holding his erupting cock up inside me with the power of his hips. We were locked together in one long silent spasm, our mouths frozen into
O
s.

Eventually, I guess, we had to breathe. Gasping for air like a beached fish, my torso flopped onto the table. My boobs were mashed into a pile of soil and some sharp objects like plant tags. My pussy clenched around Ford’s prick, milking it for the last drops of delicious semen. Those tiny clear bubbles floated before my eyes, I was so starved for air.

Ford’s cock still twitched. He hissed in air with every little twinge, as though he was being murdered. Slowly, like a man crawling onto a desert island, I dragged myself to a standing position with little zip ties and dirt raining from my tits. Ford was still almost fully erect inside of me, and nobody was in any rush to disengage.

Except maybe Bill. We both jumped when he pounded idiotically on the closed glass greenhouse door. “Get the fuck off my property, you god damned thug!” Of course Bill had heard a little bit about Ford over the past months. His name was brought up less and less, but apparently Bill had a memory like a steel trap. “I want that fucking heap of nuts and bolts out of my damned driveway too, or I’m calling the cops on you for trespassing!”

I looked over my shoulder at Ford. His face was frozen in surprise, but we both burst out laughing at the same time.

“No problem, fucktard,” Ford yelled back. “Just let me get my things together and I’m out of here.”

Meanwhile, Anna was pulling on Bill’s arm, her little feminine voice entreating him. “Leave them alone, Bill! Just let them talk.”

Bill stopped pounding on the door, but he yelled at Anna, “They’re not talking, that’s the god damned problem! I don’t want his filth all over my Venus flytraps!”

We giggled even harder, and Ford’s dick finally slipped out of me, releasing a gusher of warm jism down my inner thigh. Turning to face him, I clutched his biceps and planted a wet, warm one on his beautifully shaped lips. We noshed for a long time, during which Bill could still be heard rampaging down by the kitchen.

When we pulled apart, I licked his lower lip. “I love you, Ford Illuminati. Always have. Always will.”

“Oh God, Maddy.” Ford buried his face in my hair. He whispered, “You’re coming with me. I can see if you don’t want to ride one up all the fucking way back to P&E, but I’m putting you on a plane. No fucking excuses.” Reaching for his cut, he fished around in one of the pockets with two fingers. “I didn’t suppose you still had your collar—”

“I
do
.”

“—so I brought you this.” Ford unfolded the PROPERTY OF patch and sheepishly handed it to me. “Better than a ring, though I could get you one of those, too, if you marry me.”

I had imagined in my wildest dreams Ford Illuminati asking me to marry him, but I never imagined that I’d cry. Yes,
cry
. Tears sprang into my eyes, stinging them, as I looked blurrily at the PROPERTY OF patch. His cock was still hanging out at half-mast, my panties were still down by my shoe, but we clung together like we were on a life raft and this PROPERTY OF patch was our golden ticket out of there.

It finally occurred to me I hadn’t responded to him. “Of course I’ll marry you, Ford. You’ve always been the only one for me.”

“Good. I’ll have you know, your family just got bigger, Maddy. Everyone’s waiting for you back in P&E. I’ve got the gavel now. Cropper’s gone.”

I knew that. I didn’t quite know how to acknowledge the unspoken truth that Ford had buried Cropper. “Yeah, I read a news article how he was found in the desert near Nogales. Poor Tall Peril.” It was an indication of the loathing and scorn I felt for Cropper that I acknowledged Tall Peril’s death and not his own. I’d barely said two words to Tall Peril.

“I can’t ride with you to P&E but not for the reason you think. Give me a few days to organize shit here, Ford. Come inside the house and you’ll see why.”

With that sublime look of bafflement on his face, Ford stuffed his cock back into his jeans and adjusted his chaps. I straightened myself and thought I looked fine, aside from a missing button between my tits.

“I don’t think your friend’s husband wants me inside his house,
mija
.”

“No big loss, Ford. I won’t be looking at him in the rearview. How is Turk, anyway?”

We gossiped a little as we left the greenhouse. Ford told me that Wild Man had patched in now, too, and they were looking at a few hang-arounds to become new prospects.

“You’ll be married to the Bare Bones President, but without Cropper all I do is run the equipment company.”

Anna was standing in the kitchen doorway waiting for us. She was being a good friend by not holding little Fidelia in her arms, because it wasn’t her place to drop the bomb on Ford. I could tell by his demeanor nothing had leaked through the internet that he had a daughter, and I was still worried about his reaction. We had never discussed children.

“I’m sorry about Bill,” said Anna. “He can be such a dirtbag. I’m so sorry, Ford. You’re obviously not a trespasser, and this is my house, not Bill’s.”

“It’s all right, Anna,” said Ford. “I’ve got to get back home anyway, but I hate to say I’m taking Maddy here with me. She doesn’t want to ride on my bike, so could you make sure she gets safely to the airport?”

Anna looked at me wide-eyed. I nodded. “He’s right, Anna. I’m going.” I linked my arm through Ford’s and snuggled up to him. “You know he’s always been my one true love.”

“Oh, that’s evident to anyone with eyes in their head,” said Anna. “Your love is so dramatic and tragic, like Romeo and Juliet. Would you like to step inside? Use the facilities or something?”

“Facilities would be nice,” said Ford. “I don’t hear any screaming at the moment.”

“Adult screaming, that is,” I said, as Fidelia began to scream in the kitchen. I brushed past Anna and went to stand by Fidelia’s little cradle swing on the counter. Protectively, I stood between her and Ford and she stopped crying, just soaking in my presence.

Ford was stepping tentatively into the kitchen, maybe not wanting to startle what he thought was Anna’s baby. Good thing I was missing that sweater button, for I now undid a couple more of them again. Disbelief flooded his handsome face. Whether he was appalled I was undressing in Anna’s kitchen or suddenly realized I needed to nurse, I’m not sure, so I unsnapped the bra cup and picked up the little girl. She looked as amazed as her father.

Anna was six months pregnant, so it was kind of unlikely it was her baby. I held Ford’s gaze as I put Fidelia to the nipple, and I said softly, “Yours. A perfectly healthy girl. I named her Fidelia to ensure she never leaves me. Also, your name begins with an
F
.”

Anna probably wasn’t even breathing by this point. She didn’t keep a gun in the house—we’d already discussed doing that, months ago, but she was too afraid of them—a decision she probably regretted around about now.

Ford pointed at the little girl with the full head of black hair and the root beer eyes. “Mine. Healthy?”

“Yes. And yes. No Tay-Sachs. Like I told you, I’m not a carrier. You need two carriers, and I’m not one. You might not be, either. We’ll find out. But I think you’re safe.”

Ford didn’t say anything, but I soon realized it was because he was so stunned. Anna actually had to take a few long steps to grab a chair and place it behind him, or he might’ve collapsed on the floor from shock.

That was a good sign that at least he wasn’t going to run screaming out the door.

I ventured to say, “I hope you’re not mad. I didn’t want you thinking I just wanted child support money from you, since I don’t need any.” That was sort of a lie, but whatever—just a white lie. “And I didn’t want the only reason you were with me to be a baby. I didn’t want you feeling obligated to pretend to want to be with me. Now I see that you really
do
want to be with me, well, you’ve got to know about her.”

“Fidelia,” Ford repeated stupidly.

“Fidelia.” I took the chair next to him. Fidelia looked at Ford sideways as she suckled. “That’s your daddy,” I told her. “He’s big and bad. Well, not
so
bad. Wait, so bad. Yes. He’s bad.”

“Wow,” Ford breathed at last. “I’m…”

“In shock? Yes. I’m sorry. I just didn’t expect you to ride up on your Softail into my driveway in New York state.”

He ran his fingers through his hair. “And I can see why you can’t ride back on my pussy pad.”

I finally laughed, and all of the tension eased. Anna must have even felt safe enough to leave the room. “You got that right. Where would we put her?”

Ford was relaxing, too. “I’ve got the perfect room for her in our house. On the first level facing that rock spire that looks like a castle.”

There it was. There was my dream castle.

“I wouldn’t know,” I said mildly. “I never got to see much of your house.”

“Our house.”

“Our house.”

So you see, Dr. Petrie. You told me that writing my story would be cathartic. You were right. I’m much more ready now to move into my future with Ford, a future that doesn’t involve past recriminations or twisted deviance. We’re pure and easy now, just regular folks, businesspeople who go to fish fries and charity runs, who love our brothers and sisters as if they were our own.

Now I’m moving into the A.F. phase, After Ford. As he often said.
You love the man, you learn to love the club.
I’m still trying to achieve that second part, but one baby step at a time, right?

Stay vertical, Dr. Petrie. I don’t think I’ll be needing your services anymore.