BIKER’S GIFT: Chrome Kings MC Page 2

  “Two years? And he broke up with you over the phone? Seriously?” Renee asked.

  “Yeah. We were living together at the time, too,” Stella said, twisting the knife in Gabriel’s back to make herself feel a little better.

  “What an asshole!” Alicia hissed. “You’re better off without him, I don’t care how good looking he is.”

  “I know.”

  “I agree. But I’d still fuck him,” Tara said with a grin before moving off to check on her table.

  “Yes, well, who wouldn’t,” Renee snickered. “Him and a couple of his friends, too.”

  “Well, you can have him,” Stella murmured as she stepped out to check on the two girls at her table.

  CHAPTER TWO

  As the evening wound down, and the diner became empty, the wait staff began to clean up, closing off one section after another. Renee and Alicia left at ten, leaving only Stella and Tara to finish cleaning. Stella giggled as Tara, a woman in her mid-forties and recently divorced, described in intimate detail what she would do with Gabriel, or one of the other three men who had taken her fancy, if given a chance.

  Buy 12:15 the dining room was clean and Stella waved bye as Tara, as the night manager, locked the door behind her so she could finish counting out the register. She plopped down in her little car and thought a moment before pulling out her cell and dialing. Between Tara babbling on about adding the bikers to her list of sexual conquests and the fact it had been more than two weeks since she’d felt a man between her legs, she was in the mood for some loving. And if not that, at least a good sweaty tumble.

  You’ve reached Daniels Construction. I can’t answer the phone right now, but leave a message and I’ll call you right back.

  “Tony, it’s Stella. I was wondering if you had plans tonight. If you get his message in the next fifteen minutes, give me a call, okay?”

  She hung up the phone and tossed it in the passenger seat, keeping it handy in case he called back. He was a decent friend, eleven years older than her twenty-eight years, and always good for a round of slap and tickle. It was a friendship based mostly on sex, but it worked for both of them. Sometimes they would go to a movie, or have dinner, but often it was just a call to have an itch scratched, like tonight. Since she’d given him no notice he was probably already balls deep in some other chick. Tony was a good looking guy and she knew he bedded other women, and she again felt the creeping regret.

  She knew she shouldn’t be disappointed, but she was. She didn’t expect to him sit by the phone and wait for her call, but it would be nice to have someone she could depend on. Not just for sex, but for companionship, as well. She’d dated some after Gabriel left, but it was hard with a kid. A lot of guys weren’t willing to share, and even though a few of them were nice enough and she was attracted to them, they couldn’t handle that Katrina was first in her life.

  Then she’d met Tony. He’d picked her up one night, hadn’t pressured her, seemed to understand he would never be first in her life, and had accepted that role. He was kind, and a giving and gentle lover, but though she tried, she couldn’t find a spark for him to take it to the next level. Sometimes she saw a bit of sadness, and some longing, in his eyes, but he never asked her for more than she could give.

  She snorted. It wasn’t the first time he hadn’t been able to make it on short notice, and it won’t be the last. She’d done the same to him, so it wasn’t like she could complain. The difference was, when she couldn’t make it, it was because her date for the evening was a three year old little girl with coal black hair worn long, huge brown eyes, and a smile that could melt the coldest heart.

  Traffic was light and she made good time, pulling into her Grammy’s drive a bit after 12:30. Connie Hayes, her paternal grandmother, still lived in the same house she and her husband had bought in 1975. It was the only house Stella knew. Built in the 1950s, the red brick house was in a neighborhood of similar homes that was experiencing a renaissance of sorts as young families were buying up the older houses and renovating them. There was a young couple with a son only a year older than Katrina living next door, and Hunter and Katrina was best buddies.

  Connie’s house was neat, and well kept, but showing its age. The darkness hid the tired paint and weed-filled yard. It wasn’t one of the jewels in the neighborhood, but it wasn’t the worst looking house either. Stella stopped behind Connie’s Buick and switch her car off, but left the parking lights on to give her a bit of light to see by. She unlocked the kitchen door with her key and slipped inside.

  “Hey, Grammy,” she murmured as the slender grey haired woman greeted her with a hug. “How was she tonight?”

  “Fine, as always,” Connie said softly, her English accent almost entirely erased by her time spent in America. “She went right down at nine.”

  Stella smiled. “She’d a good kid.”

  “Like her mother.” Connie looked at her a moment. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing, why?”

  “You have that look about you. Did something happen at work?”

  Stella smiled. She couldn’t hide a thing from Connie. “No. Just tired and looking forward to a day off. I’ll be fine in the morning.”

  Connie looked at her granddaughter. She wouldn’t be more proud of her had she been the queen of her native England. She’d been handed a tough lot in life, but she hadn’t become bitter and had dug in to make the best of it. She wished Henry and Thomas, her husband and son, had lived long enough to see Katrina.

  “Okay,” she replied, though she didn’t believe it for a moment. She knew when Stella was ready to talk, she would come to her. “You know if you ever need to talk…”

  “I know, Grammy. Nothing to worry about,” Stella said, giving the older woman a hug. “Let me go get Katrina and I’ll get out of here so you can go to bed.”

  Stella moved quietly into the back of the house to her father’s old room. Katrina was piled sideways against the pillows, as usual, her stuffed bear, Ted, gripped tightly in her little arm. Seeing how Katrina slept never failed to bring a smile to Stella’s face. The girl could be found anywhere in the bed, though rarely with her head on the pillows and her feet at the foot of the bed. Most common was the position she was in now, sideways, pillows on one side, Theodore E. Bear tucked in tight on the other.

  Stella reached down and picked Katrina up, cradling her head so it wouldn’t flop around like a rag doll, and tucked her into her shoulder. Katrina didn’t wake as Stella waved bye to Connie and snuck out the door, her path lit only by the parking lights of her car. She tucked Katrina into the car seat, snapped her in, and then drove the twenty minutes to her apartment before reversing the procedure.

  After a year, Katrina was so used to being handled in her sleep she rarely woke, and if she did, she normally went right back. Stella pushed the hair out of Katrina’s face, kissed her softly on the forehead, then retired to her room. She hadn’t lied to Connie; she was tired and looking forward to a day off, but there was more to it than that. She was feeling the weight of being a single parent again and wondered if she would ever find someone. Seeing Gabriel had reminded her how she once felt, before he broke her heart.

  With a sigh she stripped out of her clothes, adding them to the hamper for washing, before putting on her favorite sleep shirt, the one that said I’m off to Club Bed, featuring DJ Pillow and MC Blanky, cleaned her face and brushed her teeth.

  It was after one when she tumbled into bed, and she knew Katrina would probably be up by seven demanding breakfast. She tried to sleep, but the ache between her legs wouldn’t let her relax. Finally, growling in frustration, she opened the bottom drawer of her nightstand and searched under her underwear until she found her toyfriend. Since Tony wasn’t here, this would have to do.

  She slipped out of her shirt and lay back, allowing her mind to wander as the softly buzzing toy caressed her in all the right ways. Her finger softly circled her nipple, the point becoming firm under her gentle touch. Unbidden, an image of Gabriel
popped into her mind, standing before her in this very room, the room they shared when they were together, but it wasn’t the Gabriel of four years ago; it was the Gabriel of now, filled out and with a confidence he never had before.

  She shoved the image aside, thinking of Tony, but as his lips found hers, it was suddenly Gabriel again, his lips so warm and inviting. He’d always known how to please her, the caress of his lips electrifying as he kissed down her body, his breath hot on her skin. She gripped her breast, the buzzing toy sliding in her wetness, touching her most sensitive place, her mouth opening slightly in pleasure as her breathing sped up, his tongue destroying her as he licked, each touch to her clit sending searing pleasure dancing through her body. She gripped his head, pulling him in tighter, pressing the toy harder into her in response. She began to thrust her hips, her passions taking over, Gabriel’s cock thrusting into her hard and fast, his grunts of passion twisting her up.

  She plunged the vibrator into her, the sudden change making her gasp as she crushed her eyes closed, the feel of Gabriel’s cock hammering into her, his sudden cry as he came, his hips still driving into her furiously. He rolled her over, taking her from behind, his sweat dripping onto her back as he took her, muttering of his love and how she could please him like no other woman.

  He came again as he roared his ecstasy to the world, his orgasm tipping her over the edge. She plunged into her rapture, the toy stroking and plunging, driving her climax on, until with a shuddering grunt she pulled it from within her, dropped it on the bed, and rolled onto her side, her hand gripping the linens as she waited for her orgasm to release her.

  She sighed out of her climax, awash in feelings she didn’t understand. Relief her need had been satisfied, but disappointed it had been thoughts of Gabriel that had gotten her there. She was over him, or at least she thought she was, and hadn’t thought of him in a long time, maybe as much as a year.

  She blew out a long cleansing breath and then patted around on the bed until she found the buzzing toy. She switched it off and stretched languorously as she smiled. It annoyed her his sudden appearance in the diner made her fantasies return to him. It was probably Tara prattling on about what she would do to him if she caught him alone that had wound her tight. She smiled and stretched again and decided it didn’t matter. It had done the job and she felt warm and relaxed. She just wished Tony was here. He was always good for a nice long cuddle after a good romp.

  With a sigh she redressed and carried her friend into the bath for a quick cleanup before returning it to the box in the bottom of her drawer. As she settled in, she could feel sleep tugging at her, but once again she remembered the feeling in her car, the encroaching loneliness and the desire to have someone in her life, someone to cuddle with, someone to love her and Katrina.

  She closed her eyes, pushing the thoughts away. This wasn’t the first time she felt the loneliness. Late at night, as she was sliding into sleep was the worst time, when she most keenly felt something was missing. But she would get over it. She always did. Tomorrow would be another day, and once she was wrist deep in flour and sugar at the bakery, she would forget all about how she felt now.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Gabriel stomped through the parking lot to his hog. Stella had started to piss him off with her sneering attitude, but if he were honest with himself, he deserved every bit of what she’d dished out. He’d done what he’d done for what seemed to be good reasons at the time, but he was just a stupid ass kid and by the time he realized how wrong he’d been, he’d decided to let it be rather than open old wounds again.

  Seeing her tonight only reinforced how stupid, and wrong, he’d been. She was still as beautiful as ever, maybe more so. The last few years had softened her, and she’d put on a few pounds, but they had made her more feminine and, to his eye, more beautiful than ever. She’d matured, as he had, and he wondered if maybe there was a chance to get back what they had.

  He snorted. Fat chance of that. It appeared she’d as soon bury a knife in his back as to look at him. He swung his leg over the bike and began to buckle on his helmet. He thought about going home to his empty apartment, then then decided he couldn’t face that, not tonight, not after seeing Stella and her ripping him a new one. He would spend the entire night beating himself up over what he’d done, and he knew that led to only place: the bottom of a bottle.

  He blasted out of the strip mall parking lot, the Harley bellowing its war cry as he banged it up through the gears only to have to brake hard at the first light. He sat, revving the bike, waiting on the light to change. When it did, he gave the throttle a firm twist and ripped away from the light, leaving all the losers in their cages in his dust. After a moment, he took a deep breath and let his annoyance go.

  He wasn’t sure what had come over him, other than Stella’s sneering attitude had pissed him off, but he wasn’t sure why. As he slowed to a stop at the next light, he admitted he knew why. Did he really expect her to welcome him back as if nothing had happened?

  He didn’t feel like going back to the clubhouse as he planned. It still needed a ton of work, but he wasn’t up for it after seeing Stella. He and his brothers had worked most of the day on the place before taking a break for dinner then calling it a night. The contractor was going to start on Monday or Tuesday, and they wanted to have as much demolition work done as possible, to save them time and money, before he showed up. The sooner they could get the place in shape, the sooner they’d have a clubhouse.

  He was one of only two members of the new charter not to have an old lady, though only Doc’s and Hammer’s had made the trip to Greenfield, South Carolina, so far. Most were staying back in Charleston until things were settled and the club was up and on its feet.

  The Chrome Kings were expanding, opening a new chapter, their second, in Greenfield. Gabriel had been promoted and would be the Sergeant at Arms of the Greenfield Chapter while Avery Doctson, the Sergeant at Arms of the mother chapter, had been promoted to President. The club was extending its reach and now, with two chapters, one on each side of the state, they were spreading their influence. Greenfield was just the first in what the founding chapter hoped would be a slow roll out across the southeast.

  Gabriel had grown up in Greenfield, South Carolina, and knew the area well. He wasn’t ready for the gavel yet, but his knowledge of the area would be invaluable. He had worked tirelessly in the club and had natural leadership skills, so he had earned the chance to spread his wings a little.

  Even though he didn’t feel it like it, he forced himself to return to the clubhouse. He pulled into what would become the Chrome Kings’, Greenfield Chapter, clubhouse, unlocked the doors, and flipped on the lights. They had gotten a lot done on the place in the two days since they’d closed on the failed restaurant. It was in a terrible location for a restaurant, located well away from any other commercial property, but was perfect for them, and the club had picked it up out of foreclosure for a song. The isolated location and large parking lot meant they had room and they planned to make use of it, eventually.

  It was a relatively new building, faced with deep red brick and few windows. The previous owner had gutted the kitchen and bar when the business went under, but the hookups and plumbing were all still there. What the building needed, more than anything, was some walls and a good cleaning. The kitchen fire that had closed the restaurant and driven it out of business had left everything covered in a greasy smoke residue.

  He walked around the place, trying to get into the mood to attack the bathroom walls again, but just wasn’t feeling it. Since he was there, and felt like he should do something, he spent a half-hour sweeping up the debris from the day’s work, piling the mess into two five-gallon buckets which he then hauled and dumped in the huge construction dumpster outside. It took three trips to get all the wood chips, tile pieces, and loose nails and screws swept up, but by ten he was satisfied with what he had done. He stood, looking around the vast empty space, trying to imagine the place after it became the Ki
ngs’ clubhouse. He picked up the sledge and crowbar and stepped up to the wall that was coming down, hefted the large hammer, and made to swing, but the blow never came. He stood, staring at the wall, then put the hammer down, gave his head a shake, and stomped out of the building, locking it behind him.

  He rode to the small complex then tramped up to his tiny, two-room apartment. In Charleston he’d rented a furnished place, but here he was planning on buying some furniture and trying to make a home. He strode into his bedroom, sitting down on the one thing he’d bought, a mattress, which was on the floor. He spent most of his time with his brothers, and just needed a place to sleep. Once the clubhouse was finished, he would worry about a better place to sit.

  It was only ten-thirty and he was keyed up. He showered and changed out of his dirty clothes. He thought about going to bed, but sleep was the farthest thing from his mind and he needed to get out of the apartment before he crawled into the bottle of Maker’s 46 he’d picked up a few days before. He needed some downtime and a distraction to take his mind off Stella. He trotted down the steps, mounted up, and thumbed the big Softail to life.