“Sorry. Stupid question,” she mumbled.
She assumed he'd done pretty much everything, and she wasn't wrong—he had. He'd had available pussy around him since he was a teenager. Even before he was a member, because being the president's son was enough for most sweetbutts. He'd never been as causal about it as Mitch had, but he'd still been a horny teenager with
strippers
offering him their service free of charge. They were up for pretty much anything; at least the things he was up for.
“Hey, girl,” he said and waited for her to look at him. “I don't miss anything, you know that. Right?”
“Okay. Good, 'cause I don't think I'm ready for it.”
“Babe, listen to me. Sex with you is the best fucking sex I've ever had. Ever! You're the sexiest, most beautiful, and amazing girl I've ever been with.”
She had tears in her eyes. “Okay,” she whispered. “Thank you.”
He kissed her, and while doing that he grabbed her leg and moved it up to his crotch. Holding it against his hard-on.
“This is what you do to me. All the time.” He felt her smile against his lips. “I don't want anyone else and more importantly, I don't
need
anyone else.”
“Okay...”
He wished she'd just believe him, but at the same time he liked telling her. And it was the truth. He didn't miss anything, and he still loved showing her things.
He was even more crazy about her asking
him
for things. She did that more and more often. Demanding stuff while they had sex and taking charge, and he
loved
her taking charge.
First time she'd panted 'go down on me' while pushing him down had been so fucking great, and he'd done it immediately just to make sure she kept saying things like that.
She'd asked him to jerk off in front of her, so she'd know what it looked like. She told him she needed it in her 'rub scrub.' It had been seriously hot to have his girl sit naked in front of him with big eyes and a small smile on her lips, staring at his hand working his dick—insanely hot!
He still hadn't asked her to do the same for him, but his plan was to offer to do it again if she did it at the same time. He was pretty sure she'd agree to it.
“Are you staying the night?”
“Yeah. Think I'll have to pass on the sex, though.”
“We don't have to have sex just because you're staying the night.”
“Oh! I thought it was the standard fee for the pillow, but now when I know better...”
“I might take that back...”
“Too late!” she laughed.
“If you're not nice, I'm not gonna help you rub lotion on your new ink.”
“Think you'll shower with me and help me clean it, too?”
He nodded and got out of the bed, holding out his hand to help her up. Like he'd say no to a shower with her.
-o0o-
We were meeting April for a dinner at a restaurant. Dad had told me a million things I had to think about, and he acted like I'd stab April the second I saw her. Just go crazy with the cutlery or something. While we were on our way into the restaurant, where she was already waiting, since we were late, he stopped me again.
“Katze, I like her.”
“Yeah, I'm starting to get that, Dad,” I sighed, but at the same time I thought it was kind of sweet he was so worked up about it. I knew he was serious about her, since she was the first one he'd even mentioned since he divorced mom. I didn't think the fact I caught them... in the act was the
only
reason he wanted me to meet her. That seemed more like a reason to
not
let me meet her again.
“So maybe not mention the last time you two met.”
“Really? Too bad, I was gonna ask her how it felt—”
He took my hand and dragged me towards the restaurant before I could finish the sentence.
“I've never spanked you, Katze, but if you ask her that, I might change my mind,” he laughed.
April was standing in the foyer, wearing a really nice dress. It made me feel like a slob, since I was in jeans and a t-shirt. At least I wasn't wearing cut-offs.
She smiled at me, and Dad gave her a slobbering kiss right then and there. I didn't know where to look while he did it and ended up staring weirdly at the lamp in the ceiling.
“It's really nice to meet you,” she said when Dad finally let her go.
“It's nice to meet you, too,” I said.
We walked inside and sat down. April did her best to small talk, and I felt sorry for her, since I was really shit at small talk, but I tried. I thought was doing okay until the waiter came and gave us our menus.
It wasn't that I couldn't read. I
could
read, but in those situations, when I was stressed, it was really, really hard. And trying to focus on reading, while stressing, and April making small talk next to me... it would suck, and I'd probably end up just pointing at something. I looked at Dad, and he smiled at me before turning to April.
“Mind if I order for all of us?” he said and took the menus from me and April without waiting for an answer.
I swallowed a lump in my throat. He did it for me, because he knew I was panicking. He always knew.
“No,” April said, but she looked upset. I couldn't blame her; I'd have been furious if anyone did that to me. “That might be interesting,” she said and gave me a smile.
“It'll probably be steak,” I said and eyed Dad who didn't seem bothered at all that he managed to royally piss off his... girlfriend—or whatever she was.
“Nothin' wrong with steak,” Dad muttered.
Once the food arrived, the weird tension was mostly gone. April had asked me about tattoos, which lead to a topic of conversation I was comfortable with and it was nice. It felt quite normal.
After dinner, Dad gave her another one of those slobbering kissed while I took a closer look at my shoes. She gave me a hug, which felt a bit odd, and then Dad and I went to the truck while April went to her car.
“You should probably tell her why you went all caveman on her and ripped the menu out of her hands,” I mumbled, and I still felt bad about it, since it was sort of my fault. “That way she'll at least know you're a great dad.”
“Don't think she cares.”
“Maybe she wants kids, and now she thinks you're a douchebag for hitting on her while I got my foot stitched up, then ordered for us at a restaurant. She should at least know it was because you knew I was panicking and couldn't read the menu.”
“She's got kids. Two of them.”
“She does?”
“Yeah. Married right out of high school, had her first kid at eighteen, suffered for
years,
struggling to make ends meet, and—”
I stopped him. “Is this one of your 'don't have kids early or you'll have a miserable life' stories?”
“Yes,” he admitted with a laugh. “She was twenty when she had the first, and she's had a good life. Two sons. She divorced five years ago.”
“You should still tell her.”
“I will. And for the record, I'm not having any more kids.” He gave my cheek a kiss. “Want me to drop you off at Mac's?”
“Yes. Go and be nice to your girlfriend. Buy her flowers or something.”
“I don't do flowers.”
“Maybe you should.”
“I think you should stay out of my... things with women. In return I'll stay out of your thing with Mac.”
“Okay. I'll stay out of your
things
with women.” I agreed, but I rolled my eyes at him as I climbed into the truck. “I like her, though.”
“Good. You'll see more of her.”
He dropped me off outside Mac's place and gave my cheek a kiss. When I walked inside, Mac and Mitch were in the couch watching a movie.
Since Mac and Mitch were so close, I'd gotten closer to Mitch as well. I was starting to see why Lisa'd always said he was fun to be around, because he was. It was especially fun to listen to Mac and Mitch talking.
“How was dinner?” Mac asked as I dropped into the couch next to him.
“Okay.”
“Was this the dinner with the nurse you caught Bear banging?” Mitch asked, and I stared at Mac.
“You told him!”
“I'm sorry, Katze, but that was just the best fucking story ever.” He pointed towards Mitch. “And I tell him everything.”
“Everything?”
“No, not stuff like... that. But...” He sighed. “Sorry, but really, it was funny.”
“And we get your pain,” Mitch tried to help him out. “The number of times we've walked in on Dad and Mel...” He made a face. “Eww.”
“Yeah... Eliza's told me about that, too.” I turned to Mac again. “If she moves in with Dad I'm moving here.”
“I'm good with that.” He leaned closer and gave me a kiss.
I hadn't been serious, but he seemed to take it seriously, and once again I got a bit nervous. He hadn't mentioned it again since Mom's visit, when it was me bringing it up. He hadn't even said he wanted me to spend more nights at his place, but I knew he did. Especially since I graduated and had started working full time.
I was eighteen, had a job, and still lived with my dad. None of them had commented on it, but while Mac seemed to be waiting for me to make a decision, Dad on the other hand seemed to make sure I
loved
living at home. Me moving in with Mac was pretty much the elephant in the room.
On his twenty-fifth birthday party at the clubhouse, Mac'd reminded me it had been a year since I rode with him the first time. That his birthday, and him taking me home, had been what started it—started
us
. The ride led to his ink, and we kissed for the first time.
I'd gotten a bit pissy and reminded him about the fact he'd avoided me for about three months after that kiss. That he'd kept saying I was too young, and sort of threw in his face that it probably meant I was still too young to move in and play wife. He'd shut his mouth about it since then, but I suspected I'd hurt his feelings more than I'd intended.
I wasn't ready, and while I usually didn't know
why
I wasn't ready for something. In this case, I did; it felt too soon. It felt as if I hadn't done the things I should before moving in with a guy. I was just out of high school, and instead of having my 'crazy' years—that everyone said you needed—I had a steady job and a steady relationship. Adding moving in to that list made it feel like I was a hop, skip, and a jump from being married and knocked up—a thought that made me hyperventilate. It all seemed
too
grown-up for me.
I felt even more like an ass about it all when he told me what ink he wanted as his birthday present. He wanted a violet on his chest on the opposite side of the Baxter family ink. I'd done it the weekend after, but I still couldn't suggest I'd move in with him.
In short, I loved him, and I wanted to spend my life with him. I just didn't want the rest of my life to start yet.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN:
None Of That Yet
-o0o-
SINCE DAD HAD TAKEN
me to dinner with April a few weeks earlier, I'd met her twice more coming out of our apartment, and I knew he spent nights at her place, too. At least I assumed that's where he spent the nights when he wasn't at home—I didn't ask.
I did, however, ask him to teach me to drive. It was getting more than a little annoying to always have to catch a ride to and from work, and he'd tried.
He'd started off by yelling about the clutch, gas, my hands at ten and two, and eggs under my foot—and I'd panicked. That happened sometimes when someone gave me too many instructions at once; my brain stopped working. At times like that, it was quite possible I didn't even know what a steering wheel was. We'd given up after the first lesson, and I still wasn't sure what he meant about the egg under my foot.
Mac'd given it a try as well, but it'd been even worse. He was
too
encouraging, and seriously said I was doing excellent, but maybe I could try to drive on the right side of the road. I figured if I wanted to learn how drive properly, it was better if the person trying to teach me wasn't terrified of hurting my feelings.
Edie'd suggested Dawg. Apparently he'd practiced with her, and he was patient, calm, and wasn't scared of calling you an idiot if you drove on the wrong side of the road. It was working out pretty well. He seemed happy about it, too. He told me it was nice to get out of the house, and I knew why he wanted to get out of the house. Edie was pregnant again, and she was very hormonal—it drove Dawg insane.
It was Monday, early August, and Dad took me to work in the morning. He let me drive, and I pretended to not notice his white knuckles, or his sigh of relief, when I stopped in front of the shop. He was taking the truck back to Greenville, and told me to give him a call when I was done. I never knew how long I'd work, since it depended on what tattoo I was making and how long the customer could take me working on him.
So I was surprised when I walked out to the front room later that afternoon, and found Dad waiting for me. The look on his face made my heart stop.
“What?” I whispered. “Is he okay? Please tell me he's okay.”
“He's fine, but he's been arrested, Katze.”
My brain seemed to filter everything out. I could barely see or hear anything, just Trixie's 'take her to the back,' and I felt Dad's arms around me.
I knew I needed to get myself together, and let Dad tell me what had happened. Letting my brain spiral out of control was not a good thing. It was better if I could just calm down and get the facts. But I wasn't able to, and when I started to cry Dad hugged me tight.
The only thing going through my mind was that it might be too late. That I might've blown my only chance to live with him, and it was my own fault for stalling.
Dad eventually took me out to the truck, but those horrible thoughts just kept rolling around in my head. How Mac could be gone until I was old. That I might miss an entire life with him, and finally, I turn towards Dad and asked him for the information I'd avoided.