Chapter 2

2

Piston – Twenty-One Years Old

I chuckle and dodge Acid’s fist coming toward my face, before crouching and swiping out my leg, causing him to fall on his ass. I jump up and lift my arms in victory, shouting, “Yes!” fucking glad Steal installed a boxing ring in the basement of the clubhouse. After Halliwell’s Gym closed, the gym my brothers and I frequented, we bought the building.

I woke up fucking sweaty and panting from a nightmare this morning, or more like memories of my father trying to fucking drown me over and over until I gave in to his demands. He wanted me to steal some guy’s fucking Porsche when I was eleven.

Acid was at school, and I was home sick, and our father took advantage, wanting more money for booze, not giving a shit that I had a fever of 102.

The car alarm went off as soon as I tried to place a long screwdriver between the glass and door, scratching the whole thing, and I bolted, hiding in the park until I knew Acid would get off the bus, knowing our father wouldn’t touch me with him home.

He preferred beating us separately, not risking the chance of us to ganging up on him, since we were tall for our ages. This time, though, Acid didn’t get off the bus; he was stuck in detention.

Dad knocked me out as soon as I walked through the door, and I woke up, drowning in the tub, my body bent over the side as it dug into my chest, leaving a whopper of a bruise. I was gasping for air when my brother finally ran into the bathroom, throwing my father off me before he barricaded us in our shared bedroom.

I’ve been in the ring since I woke up from that nightmare this morning, trying to rid my mind of the past, and deciding not to attend my classes today.

I always feel off kilter when I have nightmares, even though they don’t come too often now, but when they do, I spend fucking hours kicking the shit out of the bag or, well, my big brother, to get centered again. I’d much rather hit my father, but I haven’t spoken to him since turned eighteen and got the fuck out of there.

Acid didn’t question me when he walked in the gym this morning, most likely being called in by a brother or prospect, concerned when I stormed in here at five this morning. Acid climbed into the ring and started sparring with me.

“Fuck,” Acid groans, slowly rolling over, and then lifting himself.

“Beaten by your little brother; you’ll never live this down, Acid,” Canine, a brother and our blood uncle chuckles from the other side of the ropes, and I grin, crossing my arms over my chest like a proud peacock. Suddenly, I’m falling backward, my feet knocked out from beneath me. I land on my back with a thump , and this time it’s me groaning.

Canine laughs while I glare at my big brother, who grins wide. “You were saying?”

He pushes his sweaty blonde hair out of his face before leaning down. He offers his hand, which I accept, allowing him to help me up.

I groan. “Fuck, I’m getting too old for this shit.”

My uncle laughs, and I look his way. There are bags beneath his green eyes, but he still smiles.

“Kid, you're only twenty-one; you’re in your prime,” he says then chuckles, and I grin.

After Acid joined the club, Canine came forward and admitted he was Mom’s brother, and it's why Hammer, Steal’s father, allowed Acid to join the club instead of killing him.

Our dick of a father refused to let him have any contact with us, but I guess that may be because Canine would have killed our father if he knew how we were brought up—black and fucking blue.

Acid shakes his head. “You’re off your game, little brother….”

I snort. “Not really, you’re the one who cheated. I won fair and fucking square,” I reply, punching his shoulder before accepting the bottle of water from Canine. I ask, “What time is it?”

Acid snorts, but I ignore him as our uncle shows me the time on his phone, and I curse.

“Somewhere to be, kid?” Canine asks as I jump over the ropes and off the edge of the ring.

“Yep,” is all I say, refusing to allow them to get in my head like always.

I get it, I’ve been fucking the same girl for the past two years. Yeah, I was a one-and-done for years, but that doesn’t mean I’m in love with her…or so I keep telling myself.

I don’t do love or relationships, and the best thing about Nat is that she understands that.

That’s why I’ve stuck with her instead of fucking around, and it helps that we have a schedule. Four times a week, I head over to the apartment she moved into last year. When it’s her time of the month, she is nice enough to inform me that week is off limits, and that it's best I stay clear because, apparently, she becomes an emotional wreck—her words, not mine.

I did tell her she could suck me off, but the glare she gave me had me cupping my balls, so I make do with my hand instead.

“You, uh, going to school or…” my brother starts, and I snort.

Subtle, real fucking subtle. He knows where I’m off to; they both do. Heck, the whole fucking club knows, which the clubwhores fucking hate.

I haven’t touched them in two years, but it's only because Nat is easy—no hassle, complaining, or begging for more.

I grab my shirt, putting it on before grabbing my cut. “You know where I’m off to, Acid.”

He nods as Canine mentions, “Your aunt loves her, you know….”

I snort, grabbing my phone, but frown when I don’t see a confirmation text from Nat for this afternoon.

Huh, strange….

“I know Aunt Holly loves her; Natalie is easy to get along with, but they shouldn’t have even met; she’s not my girlfriend,” I state, giving him a brow raise.

He smirks. “She wanted to see you, and you know I can’t say no to that woman. It’s not my fault you told her where you were.”

Acid laughs, but I shake my head.

She messaged, stating she was checking in, and when I stupidly told her what room I was in, there was a knock on the door half an hour later. Natalie and I had just gotten dressed, and she looked confused as to who was at her door, so I opened it, only to find my lovely aunt smiling wide. She noticed Natalie instantly, and Steal and Canine stood behind her, wide-eyed.

As soon as Nat saw the woman with the crutch, who couldn’t move the left side of her body, she invited her in to sit down.

They became fast friends. Aunt Holly is the only member of the club Natalie speaks to, and I want to keep it that way.

I graduate next year, and our arrangement will be over.

My heart skips at the thought, my stomach tightening, but I shake my head, ignoring the feeling.

It’s probably because I’ve been kicking the shit out of the bag for hours, and I haven’t eaten….

Trying to believe my excuses, I tilt my head at Canine and ask, “How is Aunt Holly?”

He shrugs, smiling a little. "She has her good days and bad, but today is a good day.”

I nod, and pat his back.

Aunt Holly has Parkinson’s Disease, and slowly, it is taking over her body. She lost use of her left side last year, but she still smiles, pushing through.

Another reason I never want an old lady; I refuse to watch the one who would own me fucking die.

Sighing, I put my hand up and state, “Right, I’m outta here,” and walk out the door.

“Just make her your old lady already,” I hear Acid shout as I walk up the stairs, and I snort, shaking my head.

We both know that will never fucking happen.

A few seconds later, I enter the common room to chatter and laughter. Brothers are all hanging around with a beer while the clubwhores do the household chores.

They’re not allowed to fuck a brother in the open until after nine at night but can go back to a brother’s room if they want.

They also have to dress appropriately, and if one tries any shit with a brother and his old lady, they’re out.

Every patched brother has a room on the second floor, with a bathroom between every two rooms, while the prospects and clubwhores double up just off the common room, between the kitchen and the backdoor. They all share the two communal bathrooms halfway down the hallway on either side.

On the other hand, the officers have larger rooms to the back of the common room, between the church and the prez’s, VP’s, and Treasurer’s offices.

I’ll be moving into the rooms next year while the log house I designed is being built. Katie, the waitress working at our bar, who happens to be in interior design school, is already making plans to decorate it for me. It is a mile away from the clubhouse but still on club land.

Acid already has his house built right next door to Canine’s, but he doesn’t stay there much, preferring his room at the club.

Maybe if he’d just get his head outta his ass and finally claim Perrie, then he’d be there more.

It doesn’t take me long before I get to campus, diverting left, three streets over to Memory Lane, where Nat found an apartment.

It’s only one bedroom, with a small living area and kitchen, but she’s happy, even got herself a fucking cat, Bluebell.

I’m not sure about her financial situation or her home life, we don’t go that deep with conversations, but I do know she works her ass off at school and works part-time at Cora’s Day Care Center, and part-time at the local diner.

My aunt did offer her a job at Huntsmen Grub, but Nat, thankfully, declined.

We’re just sex, that’s it. No friendship or feelings are involved, and that’s how it needs to stay. As soon as she shows signs of wanting more, I’ll ditch her, and vice versa. We agreed when I showed up at her dorm two years ago after our night together.

I don’t know why showed up, especially when I was so fucking adamant I wouldn’t see her again after I snuck out, but I just couldn’t get enough of her; I needed more.

And even now, two years later, I still haven’t had enough of her.

Sighing, I guide my pure black Harley into the space next to her car, parking and looking around.

I fucking hate this neighborhood.

The Killers, a nasty gang that thinks it owns New York, deals their drugs over this side of campus, and knowing Natalie is living here, it is bringing out emotions I refuse to decipher, and besides, it's her choice to stay here. I won’t offer to help her. Not only won’t she take it, but I’m not her man.

We just fuck, that’s it….

Shaking my head, I climb off my bike, knowing no one will fuck with it—The Killers are stupid but not that stupid—and head to the apartment block that looks ready to collapse.

I ignore the smell of piss as I get into the stairwell, and take it three steps at a time until I get to the fourth floor.

A guy is sitting upright, passed out, just inside the hallway, and I shake my head, go to the dark gray door, and rapidly knock.

My cock is already twitching, and I grab the doorframe to try and control myself, refusing to understand why she has such a hold on me, why my stomach tightens at the thought of seeing her.

The door opens within a few seconds. Her eyes widen when she sees me, and I scowl, seeing her face red, tear stains coating her cheeks.

Who in the fuck made her cry?

I push off the doorframe and cup her cheeks, gently running my thumb over the tear marks.

I furrow my brows when she grips my wrists, and rasps, “I’m so sorry, Piston. I totally forgot about today. Can we reschedule?”

I raise a brow, confused, my cock suddenly weeping with the thought of not getting his tight heat, not wanting anyone else.

Again, I won’t look too deeply into why.

Ignoring my sudden disappointment, I hum and gently catch the tear that’s just fallen, mesmerized by it. I utter, “It’s not your period, right? That was two weeks ago, so what’s happened for you to cry like this, Diamond?”

“It doesn’t matter,” she says as she tries to get out of my hold, but I tighten my grip, and then wrap my right arm around her waist, my hand going to her bare back. I have to hold in my groan.

Fuck, I love when she wears tops that look like normal t-shirts from the front but are completely bare at the back. It normally means she’s braless.

“It does matter if it means I can’t get my dick wet,” I state as a matter of fact, and she snorts, dropping her forehead to my chin. I grin. “Knew that would make you laugh….”

Shaking her head, she looks up and grips my shirt, then whispers, “How about you make me forget my crappy day instead?”

I grin wide. “You don’t have to tell me twice….”

She squeals as I bend over and place my shoulder against her belly, lifting her up in a fireman’s hold before laughing loudly. I smirk, taking her deeper into her bland apartment, toward her bedroom.

I open the door, examining the dark purple wall behind her four-post double bed, covered in dark blue sheets.

The other three walls are cream. Two black butterflies are painted on the back wall, or they’re stuck on, I don’t know.

With a shake of my head, I throw Natalie onto her bed, making her gasp and then laugh, before I pounce, my body covering hers.

She wraps her legs around my waist as I cage her in with my body, my hands flat on the mattress beside her head. I press my lips against hers, our tongues instantly tangling, and she moans, gripping the back of my neck.

Immediately, I feel at home, a feeling I push back, like always refusing to look deeper into this, into us.

I break the kiss first, my lips going to her jaw. She angles her head, giving me more room, and I glide my lips to her neck, sucking hard as one hand goes to her jeans, unbuttoning them, while my other holds me up so I don’t squash her.

I bite her neck, causing her to gasp, before I push off her body. I pull her jeans and panties down and off, throwing them across the room, before I glide my hands up between her legs, parting her juicy thighs.

Her glistening, wet, bare cunt enters my vision, her clit poking through the hood, and I groan, driving straight in, licking her from ass to clit, circling it before sucking the small bud into my mouth.

Fuck, she tastes so good.

Natalie moans, her hands coming to my hair, gripping it tight, and everything else disappears—my nightmares, the brothers' knowing eyes, school, everything—and all I see and hear is her.

I wrap my hands around her thighs, gripping them to keep them open as I lay my body on the bed, and shove my tongue deep inside her cunt, tasting her sweet nectar, moaning, all while she squirms beneath me.

I move my right hand, pressing it against her stomach to keep her still, my thumb reaching her enlarged clit. I press down hard, rubbing tight circles as her walls flutter around my tongue, and I push in deeper, as deep as I can go, before her juices coat my chin.

Natalie screams as she comes, and I drink her up, my thumb still rubbing hard circles, drawing out her orgasm until she pulls on my hair.

I get one last lick before sucking her clit hard, causing her to arch her back, aftershocks hitting her body. I climb up, my mouth instantly taking hers, making her taste herself.

She moans, gripping the back of my neck as her tongue sweeps in my mouth, and I quickly undo my jeans without breaking our kiss. I shove my jeans down before grabbing the condom out of my pocket, and sheathing myself.

Natalie moves her hand down between us and grips my hard cock, making me moan before guiding the tip to her entrance.

I thrust forward hard, and she breaks the kiss, throwing her head back, my lips going to her creamy skin.

“Fuck, Diamond,” I rasp, holding still so I don’t come.

She’s tight, so fucking tight, and warm, and wet.

Perfection….

Gripping her thighs, I lift them slightly and spread them, before I start moving my hips, thrusting in and out of her hard, wondering if I’ll ever have enough of her, if maybe we could carry on with the arrangement after I graduate.

It’s a shame I can’t see the fucking future, though; maybe then I would have saved us both a hell of a lot of hurt.