4. Jonah

4

JONAH

Bronco switches off the needle and examines his handiwork down the rest of my sleeve that needed filling. I have so many tattoos now, it’s hard to spot any actual skin on my arms and legs.

I still have some room on my back and torso, but I like my sleeves completely covered. The depiction of an angel is fitting. Under it, my wife’s name, and my son. I lost my wife in a head on collision eight years ago. She was pregnant with Eli at the time. He was lucky that she was almost to term, and though there were complications, he was born a few hours after the accident. Jill didn’t survive.

I can’t say I’ve been the same ever since that day. Weeks later, I went home with a new baby and no wife. I had no fucking clue what to do with a baby. Jill was always the homemaker, not me. I loved her. I never really got over it, and with the help of my Gran, who’s now passed, and my sister Indi, we got through it.

We moved back to New Orleans a few years ago for a fresh start. Eli is a great kid. The one thing I’ve always done is put his needs first.

When I first moved here, shit was rough, and it took a while for my son to settle, but somehow we got into a new routine. He also loves being around his cousin Cami, and Harlem’s kids, Stella and Kai. They’re all older than him, of course, Cami being thirteen now, and Kai sixteen, Stella nineteen. They spoil him rotten.

Because I work nights at the club for extra money, Indi and Harlem babysit every second weekend. Eli sleeps over and it’s a weight off my mind, and wallet, knowing that he’s happy and safe.

I didn’t go into stripping lightly. In fact, a friend of mine was doing it back in Philly, and when I saw what easy cash it was, it was a no brainer. I did a few shows and it was good. Not half as embarrassing as I thought, because the women who frequented that club were nuts.

At first, yeah, it was weird. I’d done some topless waiter shit for rich women on yachts, and when we moved, the position came up at the MC’s new joint next to their gentleman’s club, The Vault. Thus, The Vault XL was born.

The guys give me plenty of fuckin’ stick about it, but they soon shut their pie holes when I bragged about how much cash I take home.

To be honest, I enjoy it. If I want to put my kid through college, fixing cars and changing oil ain’t gonna get him very far. I put away every single cent, rarely splurging except for my Harley. That’s my one obsession. In the club, we all bring in money to keep the club coffers full, and everyone benefits.

My old man was an ex MC Prez and an all-round piece of shit. So when I came home and watched my sister fall in love with a biker, I was on edge. Then I saw what the club stood for, and how they have each other’s backs. I wanted that brotherhood, the family that I was missing for myself. I guess it’s in the blood. Just not the same way it was for my deadbeat dad. He had his own version of protecting us, but none of that shit was anything a child should be witness to.

When a man eyed up my sister one time, Dad shot him in the head in front of her. I’ll never forget the blood spatters covering my sister’s face and the ongoing trauma she faced with our dad’s version of love.

I vowed when I became a father, my kid would never feel anything except safe. I’d be everything that he wasn’t, and it’s the one thing in life that I’ve stuck to. I had no other choice. I was alone in the world with a brand new baby. Now my baby is eight and he’s my entire world.

“You good?” Bronco wipes over my skin as I glance down.

“Didn’t even know you’d finished.”

He grins. Bronco is one of the Club’s Tail Gunner’s, like Nevada. Man, I live for those long runs on my motorcycle. The freedom. The feel of the Harley’s engine rumbling underneath me, it’s like nothing else.

“What do you think?” He hands me a mirror so I can get a better look.

“Nice job, brother. Appreciate it.”

“Anytime.”

“Rumor has it you tattooed Nevada’s dick.”

He glances at me. “Knew that motherfucker couldn’t keep his mouth shut.”

I chuckle. “Of course not. He brags about it often.”

“Not like that asshole gave me much choice.”

I slap him on the back. “Don’t worry, I’m not tattooing my dick anytime soon. Some jewels are sacred.”

“With you on that.”

He applies salve and wraps me up, and I head out on my motorcycle over to the club. Cash had some errands for me to run, and though I’m not a prospect, I still have to prove my worth to the club. I’ll do whatever it is Cash needs me to do.

When I park in the lot at the clubhouse, it’s pretty quiet. During the day, not a lot of action takes place because the guys all have regular jobs. Usually, it’s just Manny cooking up a storm. I try to keep in his good books because nobody in their right mind wants to piss off the best cook in New Orleans.

When I get there, I can smell something heavenly wafting from the kitchen. I bypass the meeting room, unsure if Cash is in there or in his office, and head for the kitchen.

I haven’t had a lot to do with Manny, aside from the time not so long ago that we snuck Cookie, Riot and Halo’s dog, into the hospital when he was shot. We got away with it by stealing a food cart and hiding Cookie inside.

When I get closer, I hear voices. I stop in my tracks when I hear Lace’s laugh.

She told me she’s rooming with Manny, of all people, until she can get her own place. I don’t know why, but a surge of jealousy ran through me when she texted me about that. Not that I think she’s into him, or he’s into her, but hearing her laughing like that makes me think otherwise.

We’ve been seeing each other here and there, but I still haven’t really committed to a real date. When she came along with Manny to the strip club for Deanna’s birthday, I put on a show, and we got talking after. She’s super hot and I know she likes me. Well, she likes my body, that’s good enough for me. But she’s Riot’s little sister, and he has no clue we’re talking. I know she’s a grown woman, but there’s also a bro-code that we don’t cross in the club. Riot is protective over her, and I get that. I’m the same with Indi. Maybe that’s the reason I haven’t slept with her yet, fuck knows I want to.

As I listen closer, she moans and then groans, making noises that have me pushing the door open to examine what’s going on in there. She turns to look at me, sitting on the stainless steel bench eating what looks to be French onion soup.

Because we’re keeping it on the downlow, I can’t exactly drag her off the counter away from Manny, the guy every chick loves, and ask her what the fuck she’s doing.

“Lace?”

“Oh, hey, Bandit,” she sing-songs. I’ve gotta hand it to her, she doesn’t miss a beat.

I glance down at her short skirt. Fuck me, she looks super hot. Her honey colored hair sits just above the shoulders, her ample breasts accentuated with a thick, high belt wrapping around her waist, pushing her bust up. My mouth waters because I’m a tittie guy, and I haven’t had sex in a while. Between the workshop, the club and my son, things have been hectic. My straining dick is paying for that now.

“Hey.” I glance up to Manny, who’s pulling some garlic bread out from the broiler.

“Just in time,” Manny says, giving me a wink. “How’s my favorite bad boy today?”

Manny’s always like this. Eccentric. A smart ass and the fact he’s seen me almost naked at Vault XL is a little uncomfortable. I made it clear to Cash that if I was gonna work there; it meant none of the guys from the club could be there. It’s one thing to get your ass out with a bunch of chicks in the room throwing money at you, but it’s quite another to have your club brothers giggling like school girls while you try to make a living. Clearly, Manny didn’t get the memo.

I grunt. I don’t have much to say, but that garlic bread sure smells amazing.

“Was that a ‘oh, yes, Manny, I’d love to stuff some of your rich, hearty goodness in my mouth?’” He’s hilarious. Or thinks he is.

I watch Lace as she smiles at me, looking up from under her lashes as she takes another mouthful. “It’s really good.”

My stomach growls, and though I’m not usually a soup guy, I don’t protest when Manny shoves a bowl at me and drops two thick pieces of the bread on top.

“I’ll take your radio silence to mean you’d love a bowl.” He claps his hands together. “Now be a good boy and tell me how amazing I am.”

Why do his words penetrate me in such a way that my dick stirs. Fuckin’ down, boy. I don’t have a thing for him, nor do I have a thing for any dudes. I’m straight. I’m into pussy. I’m into Lace. Maybe my mind has wandered a time or two, but that’s only when I’ve been really wasted. I may have confessed to Lace one drunken night that I’d had ‘thoughts’, but I’m pretty sure she doesn’t have a clear recollection of it. We’d both had a few drinks. And when I’ve been drinking, I say weird shit.

I also don’t notice Manny’s cut off tank. The kind where the sides are slit all the way down to his waist so you can see right inside. I had no clue he was so ripped. When he meets my eye, I look away. Fuck.

“You can sit, you know.” He points to one of the opposite stools. “We have seating.”

“How come she gets to sit on your countertop?” I nod to Lace as I try not to let my eyes dip to her tits. They look so big in that tight blouse. In fact, if I’m not mistaken, her nipples are hard. I have a flash of me coming all over them, emptying my load as I mark that pretty rack.

Shit.

He shrugs. “Because she’s prettier than you.”

“Can’t argue with that,” I snort, taking one of the now soggy pieces of bread and shoving it into my mouth. I groan.

“Told ya,” Lace laughs. “Manny is freaking amazing.”

Reaching out I give her a chin lift. The words leave my mouth but they feel foreign. “How’s the new place goin’? You still need a hand with the boxes?”

“If that’s okay? My brother said he’d help, but he can’t get the van till Friday.”

She’s adorable when she eats. I know you can’t say that about many people, but she devours every morsel like it’s her last meal. She’s not a messy eater, she’s careful and not noisy. In fact, I’ve never enjoyed watching anyone as much as I enjoy watching her.

“We can make several trips in her car, but it’s tiny,” Manny adds. “Even though you don’t have that much stuff, those tubs take up a lot of room.”

“My clothes are my life,” Lace goes on and I hate how it irks me that Manny is being super helpful. It’s obvious he has a thing for her. Here I was thinking he was gay this entire time, and I recently learned he’s bi. I mean, he’s like this with all the girls in the club; super fuckin’ helpful. A little too helpful in this regard, and that annoys the shit out of me.

Here I am trying to be a nice guy and not treat Lace like another roll in the hay, somebody to have a good time with and discard once we’re done. Not with her. Never with her. I respect this club too much to let a chick get in the way of me and a brother. And if we fucked, it’d be nice and weird when I run into her at the clubhouse. Which, by the looks of things, will be a lot now that she and Manny are bosom buddies. I’d feel like an errant child if I screamed at him that I saw her first. That’s just dumb. Plus, I can’t shake that thrill that ran through me when I saw a peek of his body when his tank was flapping in the breeze…

Fuck no! I need to pull myself together. This isn’t who I am. I mean, I’m straight. Also, I have no fuckin’ problem with people who aren’t, nor do I give a shit what other people do, but it’s not a complication I need right now in my life. Realistically, I have enough shit going on to sink a battleship. I don’t need to be lusting after a fuckin’ man as well.

Is that what I’m doing? Confusion and panic hits me all at once. It’s suffocating.

“Which means we need another shopping trip.” Manny points a wooden spoon in her direction and she swoons.

“Totally.” She glances at me. “Are you up for a shopping trip?”

I give her a deadpan look. “Do I look like the type of man who’d be up for that?”

She gives me a once over and my balls tighten. “I don’t know. Those ripped jeans have seen better days.”

Manny snorts with laughter, and I shoot him a glare. I down a few mouthfuls of soup; it’s fuckin’ delicious. I never thought I was a soup guy until now.

“Let me know what time tomorrow.”

“That’d be perfect.” She gives me a bright smile. “I appreciate all the help I can get, if that’s okay, Manny?”

Manny shrugs. “Fine by me.”

I want to ask her when I can see her next, but not in front of Manny. He’s got a big mouth. It’d get back to Riot before I even stepped foot outside the clubhouse.

I chow down the soup, and even though I’m a pretty good cook, I couldn’t make shit made out of onion taste this good. “No problem.”

I stick the bowl in the sink when I’m done, muttering, “Thanks.”

Manny watches me as I move back toward the other side of the bench. I nod to Lace, “Text me when you’re ready, I’ll bring my truck.”

“Thanks, Bandit. That’s awfully nice of you.”

My jaw ticks. Nice? I’d love to show her how not nice I can really be, though putting my hand over her throat while I fuck her hard and fast might be a little too much for this princess. “What can I say? I’m a nice guy.” I cast Manny a glance as he rolls his lips. What that’s all about, I don’t know. He’s just smug because he has Lace living right where he wants her; in his home. Probably in his bed.

“See ya later, Beefcake.” Manny finger waves while I flip him the bird.

“Later,” I mutter, leaving Lace in the kitchen as I stomp out. Not taking what’s mine feels foreign, and I want her. But I can’t risk Manny finding out. I reach for my phone, then slide it back into my back pocket. I’ll give it a beat before I tell her exactly what I want to do with her. Then I’ll let her have it.

By the time I get home and cook dinner for me and Eli, I’m beat. I tuck him into bed and read him a story, and like clockwork, he’s out like a light.

I make my way to my room, turning on the shower as I strip my clothes off. I’ve had Lace on the brain all goddamn afternoon.

I can’t get the idea of Lace out of my head after seeing her swinging her legs back and forth on Manny’s countertop while she ate. It takes two seconds for my hand to slide down to my dick. I grip it with my palm and stroke myself. Yeah, that’s good. Squeezing a little tighter, I get into a steady rhythm, the warm water hitting my back as I brace one hand against the wall. I need my dick sucked, that’s what I need. And imagining Lace on her knees before me, my cock choking her tight, pretty throat has me groaning out loud. She’s such a goddamn tease. I can clearly see that abstaining is doing nothing except making my balls feel even heavier.

Lace. Those big, fuckable tits in my face as I suck her hardened nipples, fondling them as I finger her tight pussy. And Manny’s watching.

Wait, what the fuck? My eyes spring open as I choke my cock with my hand. No. Not fuckin’ Manny!

I shut the idea down, not before my memory curtly reminds me of the glance I got of his ripped muscles inside his tank. The way his ass looked in those jeans when he bent over. No.

I don’t have a thing. I don’t. But then why am I noticing Manny’s body all of a sudden or anything about his muscles, or his ass? Shut this down, asshat. But I can’t.

I replace Lace’s mouth with Manny’s, stretched around my aching cock as I grip into his annoyingly perfect hair, tugging it as he groans, grabbing my balls. “Fuck,” I hiss.

He licks my tip, his eyes on mine as he does, and it feels as good as it looks.

No.

Lace. It’s Lace I want.

I shove Manny aside, bend Lace over and shove into her tight hole. She cries out as I pump her full of dick, cupping her tits as I fondle them and she moans like a little whore, my hand circling around her throat.

Yeah, that’s it. Take this cock like a good girl.

I stuff her full, plunging in and out, my hand gripping my dick tighter as I imagine how tight she really is. But when I open my eyes, I see Manny again. He’s touching me, telling me to fuck her as he takes her tits and sucks on one, his eyes on mine as he suckles. His tongue laves her bud and I want his mouth on me again.

“Lace,” I cry as my cum spurts into my hand. “Fuck, Manny.” I paint the wall, coming violently as I try to slow my rapid breathing.

What in the fuck was that?

I can’t even jerk off now without saying his name, too? I’m breathing like I just ran a marathon. My chest burns as I try to catch my breath, the sweet sting of post-orgasm settling in, as well as the shame of what I just did.

I pictured him. Okay, not fucking him, but with my dick in his mouth. With him enjoying Lace, too. Taunting me by sucking her tits when they’re my favorite thing. Then I imagine us both fucking her holes. That doesn’t make me gay.

Just because I like the idea of watching him fuck her or us both fucking her. It doesn’t make me… like him. I have nothing against gay or bi people, but I’m not one of them. I just… I got lost in the moment. That’s all this is. A fantasy. One I’m never going to act on.