Chapter 20

Ven

I t’s been a couple of months since everything went down at the Grayson farm. Siege, Rigs, and Smoke did a damn good job of unraveling a complicated situation and ensuring that everyone involved got what was coming to them in one way or another. There are still some legal issues to work through, but hopefully that’ll all be finalized soon.

Everyone has been working hard to put the whole situation behind them. My mom’s ankle has healed up. She’s taken a real shine to both Rage and Carol, so we’ve become like an extended family.

Today is a very special day. I pull up in front of the clubhouse to find Amy waiting for me. She’s wearing jeans and a red blouse that looks amazing against her black hair and pale skin. She does a twirl for me and shows off the new property cut. When we were in a fake relationship, she had one of our generic ‘Property of Savage Legion MC’ cuts, but now my name is proudly on her back. A surge of pride flashes through me on seeing my woman wearing my name.

She comes running out and climbs onto the back of my bike like she’s been doing it her whole life. Grabbing her helmet out of my rear storage compartment, she puts it on quickly and slides her arms around me. Everything about this interaction feels smooth and natural. Amy was born to be a biker’s old lady, mine to be exact. She might have come into my life by accident, but I couldn’t have picked a better woman to call my own.

I rev my motor and off we go. One hand drifts to my vest pocket to make sure I have what I need. A little hard square presses against my palm and I’m reassured. We speed down the highway along the coast, a gentle breeze swirling around us and the salty ocean air filling our nostrils. I enjoy snaking around the curves along the familiar route to my maman’s restaurant.

When we pull in and I cut my motor, Amy takes off her helmet and runs her fingers through her hair. The minute she sees all the other bikes, her mouth falls open.

“What’s all this? Is there a party that I’m unaware of?”

“I guess a lot of the brothers had the same idea I did for a romantic dinner for two with their old ladies.”

I think for sure she’s going to guess what’s going on, because the whole restaurant is packed wall-to-wall with members of my club. Her mom is there with a new neighbor she’s made friends with. The middle-aged man is gray at his temples and has a neatly trimmed goatee. He’s into antique cars so I’ve already put him in touch with our auto repair shop making sure he gets the friends and family discount. They look good together and it’s nice to see her mom getting out and about.

If my woman is suspicious about my motives for taking her here tonight, she doesn’t show it. Instead, she just waves at people we pass as I lead her to the only empty table in the entire restaurant. It’s the same table we sat at the first time I brought her here, the one with the amazing view of the garden. One of my mom’s servers practically races back to take our drinks order. She’s all smiles and really excited. I subtly give her the dial it down look and she tries to smother back her wide smile. Everyone is staring at us. I swear to God, you would think these people have never seen a man propose before.

While Amy is looking over the menu, I slip the ring box out of my vest pocket and put it on the edge of the seat beside me for the server to take. We already have a plan in place, and I just hope she’s sly about picking it up. I immediately realize what a foolish expectation that was because the moment we give our orders and hand her back the menus, the server makes a big production of picking the ring box up.

“Oh, wow. It looks like I dropped something on the floor. Let me pick that up before someone steps on it.” She snatches up the ring, hiding it behind the menus. Amy gives her an odd look while I press two fingers to the bridge of my nose, wondering why I ever thought I could pull this off. What in God’s name was I thinking? My initial plan had been to write ‘MARRY ME AMY’ in rocks and take Amy out drone flying with me. Having her come across the proposal that way seemed ideal, but my mom convinced me that a romantic meal at her restaurant would be better. Truth be told, I think my mom and Carol just wanted to be able to witness the proposal firsthand. So, I went to work on plan B.

Suddenly, Amy’s hand lands on mine. “Are you okay? You seem a bit distracted tonight. We could have stayed at the clubhouse if you weren’t up to a night out.”

I freeze in place for a brief second, trying to think of something clever to say. I end up mumbling, “I’m fine. More than fine.”

She presses her lips together before telling me, “If fine stands for fucked up, insecure, neurotic, and emotional then maybe you are.”

“What the actual fuck does that mean?” I’m not angry, so much as floored that she would say something like that to me.

She raises an eyebrow, and I can tell she’s trying not to laugh. “It might mean that you can’t take a joke.”

Before I can respond, our smiling server comes back with our drinks and some bread for the table. I automatically reach for the bread. The basket is filled with baguette slices and there’s a ceramic dish of butter to accompany it.

“Rage might be addicted to my maman’s croissants, but I like her homemade bread the best.” I dip a piece in the fresh cream butter and cram the whole round in my mouth at once.

Amy dips the edge of her bread in the butter and nibbles at it like a civilized person. I can’t help but smile at how polite she is. It’s one of the many things I find endearing about her. Sitting here looking at her, I realize something. When I first met her, she had a much more forceful personality. Some might even call her pushy. The longer we’ve been together, the more chilled she’s grown. Don’t get me wrong, she’ll tell you off in a heartbeat if you cross boundaries, but she’s not so much on edge and ready to snap at people. Pride surges in my chest as I realize she doesn’t have to be so on guard. She’s got me for that now.

We make short work of our meal, for our starters we both had French onion soup, and for the main I had the coq au vin and Amy had the ratatouille. Amy praised my mom’s cooking to the sky. The restaurant isn’t fancy, it’s more the bistro-style that you’d find on any street corner in Paris, than fine dining. But the charm of those places is simple food cooked incredibly well, and that’s something my maman excels at.

Amy’s surprised when our ever-smiling server brings out a bottle of alcohol-free pink champagne and pours a flute for each of us. When our dessert comes out, it’s a mini profiterole tower with wreathes of spun sugar and garnished with fresh raspberries.

Amy looks at it with wide eyes.

Glancing up from the dessert to me, she comments, “This looks worthy of a Michelin star restaurant. You must have been one spoiled little boy growing up.”

I laugh, “At the time I didn’t realize I was eating fancy stuff, it was just mom’s experiments for the restaurant.”

She continues to look at the choux pastry tower in amazement, “My mom is a good cook, but her baking is limited to bread, apple pie and brownies.”

“Try it, it’s even better than it looks,” I pull off the top choux bun and offer it to her.

As she takes a delicate bite, I’m thankful she’s not a glutton like me, I’d have stuffed the whole bun in my mouth. As she swallows, I’m having second thoughts about my great idea, but suddenly after another bite she hesitates, then brings her fingers up to fish out the object.

I just smile as she dunks it in her glass of water and dries it off on her napkin.

She looks from the ring to me, her voice is shaky as she says, “I’m guessing your maman didn’t lose this when she was baking?”

“Do you like it?” I ask, eager to know if I chose according to her personal tastes.

“It’s beautiful,” she says as she bites her bottom lip.

Taking the now clean ring from her, I say, “You know that you’ve quickly become my whole fucking world, sweetheart. In addition to being my old lady, I want you to be my wife.”

“Absolutely. I want to be your wife,” as the tears run down her cheeks I slip the ring on her finger.

Then I hear my mom’s voice, “Did I hear correctly?”

Amy’s head whips around to look at my mother with a huge smile on her face and she replies, “ Oui, belle-mère .”

My mother gives her a kiss on both cheeks then rushes round to do the same to me. Amy just called her ‘mother-in-law’ in French, and the fact that she learned that makes me realize that maybe this isn’t as much of a surprise as I thought it would be.

Of course there’s raucous applause and loud stomping of feet echoing through the small restaurant. All my club brothers come over and congratulate us. Obviously, they’d gotten the heads-up about the proposal. Doing something like that in public is always fraught with danger, but I knew that me and my Amy were both on the same page.

***

After an hour or so, we bow out because I have another surprise for the woman I love. But instead of leading her back to my bike, I take her down a winding path past my mother’s house all the way back to a special spot. I have something important for her to see.

Her hands fly to her cheeks when she sees the large white canvas tent I’ve pitched. It’s strung with lights and inside I’ve made it nice for us.

“What is all this?”

“If you approve, it’ll be the spot we build our first home. That’s if you don’t mind being close to my mother.”

She gives me playful smack on the arm. “Of course not. I adore your mother. She’s my new role model, seeing the kick-ass way she handled herself with my grandfather’s men was nothing short of inspiring.”

Although I’m not sure how I feel about that new bit of information, I set it aside in favor of making our special night perfect. I pull back the flap of the tent and usher her inside. She takes a second to slowly spin around. When she turns back to me, she asks, “Did your mom help with all this?”

I step forward and pull her close. “Of course not. I have a brain and good taste. I picked it all out and arranged it myself just for you, because I wanted tonight to be a night you’ll remember for the rest of your life.”

“You did a wonderful job. The lights, fresh flowers, and that rug is so luxurious.”

I glance over my shoulder at the queen-size bed. I’ve made it up with all white bedding, like a bridal bed. “I was thinking that we might spend the night here. I can make you scream my name all night long and no one will hear.”

She immediately begins unsnapping my cut and then unbuttoning my shirt. “Maybe, I can make you scream my name for once. What do you think about that idea?”

I grin, “With your talented mouth, fingers, and pussy anything’s possible, darlin’.”

I’d considered rigging up my phone so we could have some music but deciding what songs would accompany such a special night was too much pressure. So instead, we have the sound of the waves, which to be honest is probably a hell of a lot more romantic. We make short work of undressing each other, when we move together, it’s sensuous, sexy, and sweet. This is everything my mind, heart, and body has been missing out on for all these years. It’s the dream I was never bold enough to dream.

Once we’re naked I take a moment to appreciate her curves in the soft glow of the artificial candles I’ve set all around the tent. Real candles would have been better—but putting out a fire in a tent because you accidentally knocked over a tealight is a good way to ruin a romantic evening. I pick her up and toss her onto the bed. Seeing her laying there all naked and eager for my cock while my ring glistens on her finger, makes me as hard as a rock.

I come down on top of her and pour my heart out to her in a kiss that’s meant to seal her to me. Her hands roam over my chest and down my abdomen. This woman of mine loves to touch and tease me almost as much as I love doing the same to her. I spend plenty of time on her breasts because I love the way she moans as I suck her nipples deep into my mouth. My attention there also ramps up her desire and I want her writhing, wet, and willing when I fill her with my cock.

The best way to get her really wet is by licking her pretty pussy. She loves it when I do that and so do I. Tonight, I take extra care to take my time, starting out slowly, and building the intensity until she explodes on my tongue. Women always taste good, but Amy is like nectar on my tongue. She’s slowly becoming an obsession for me, and I want to please her in every way possible.

I pick her up, although she’s still in a boneless heap from the orgasm I just gave her.

“Where are you taking me?” she asks, as I carry her out of the tent.

There are no streetlamps here, so the stars look like jewels. Moonlight dances over the sea below, and other than the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks it’s silent. I walk across the ground with my love in my arms, “We can go back to the tent if you want, but it’s such a nice night, I thought we could lie here and watch the stars as we make love.”

As I say the words, I start to cringe, thinking that maybe what sounded romantic in my head, in reality is a huge turn off for her. Before I do an about turn, she says, “That sound perfect, but won’t anyone see us?”

I shake my head, “No, this is private land, it’s all my mom’s. Well, ours now because I’ve bought this parcel for us. I used to play here as a child, see the trees back there?” I point over to a large oak. “I bet my swing is still there.”

“A swing?” she says and lets out a delightful giggle as she wriggles free from my arms and runs to the trees.

I catch up with her just as she’s about to sit down on the wooden seat, I hand her the blanket I’d brought for us to lie on, “Here, you might wanna put this down first. I don’t want you getting splinters in your pretty ass.”

She spreads it on the swing and sits down then experimentally pushes off. I don’t know who gets the idea first, but we both suddenly stop and look at one another.

“You’re at just the right height,” I say.

“Right height for what?” she asks sounding all kinds of innocent. I’m just about to explain my idea, when she gives me a wicked grin. She kicks out her feet and swings backward and forwards, “So how does this work?”

I grab the ropes to stop the swing, then move closer to her. My cock is rock hard again, and just thinking about being inside her has a small bead of precum leaking out my tip, “We can use it anyway you want. You can lie back, and I can fuck you like this, or you can lie over the swing if you want me from behind.”

She smiles slowly and parts her legs, showing me her pussy. It’s glistening in the moonlight, “Fuck, babe. You are one sexy woman.”

“I’m wet just thinking about you,” she murmurs. My cock twitches in response and I can’t wait to slip into her soaking wet pussy.

I gently take her hands from the bottom of the ropes, and I bring them up to grasp the top of the swing. “Hold tight and don’t let go until I say, sweetness. Can you do that for me?”

She nods, and I lean over, brushing her pussy with my cock, and give her a firm kiss as I slowly push the swing back, then pull it to me again as my cockhead rubs against her. The height is perfect.

“Oh!” she says in surprise.

I chuckle darkly as I get to my knees, “We’re only just beginning, let me get you warmed up again.”

“I think I’m pretty warmed up as it is, I feel so wet,” she squirms on the seat.

My eyes go to her pretty pussy, “I want to see you dripping wet for me.” With that I pull her in close.

Using my tongue and mouth on her again, I make her come hard with my fingers teasing her g-spot. The way she writhes against my face makes my cock jump.

As I notch myself against her entrance, I look into her eyes as I fill her with my long, thick shaft. I love seeing the pleasure on her face and the way she gasps as I stretch her wide. Feeling her soaked pussy gripping me tightly is the best feeling in the world. Holding both sides of the swing, I use it to move her back and forth on my hard cock. Something about the long, smooth strokes drives her wild. Watching her taking the pleasure I give, makes my balls draw up and it takes all my skills of concentration to hold off coming until she does. Then I jerk the swing back and forth, seeking my own pleasure as her pussy contracts around my cock milking me dry. Nothing in my life has ever felt this good and I know all the way down to bones that nothing ever will. And this is what it takes for me to come as I cry out her name, “Amy!”