The preparationsfor the New Year’s party are nothing like Christmas or Thanksgiving. Rather than the club members bringing their families, it’s mainly the members along with a few of the younger wives and girlfriends, and what I quickly discover are the club girls. No children run around playing, no family time to sit and chat about the sweet moments. Today, the air is thick with youthful excitement and a rougher, rowdier temperament that makes me think tonight is going to be a wild ride.
There is no meal prep or family atmosphere. Instead, the men are rowdy in what feels like a dangerous way. They set up a boxing ring in the backyard and haul out crates of beer, bottles of whiskey and moonshine, and a massive box labeled “Fireworks.”
“You don’t have to be a part of this if you don’t want to,” Gabriel says. “But since we’re staying at the clubhouse, I think you’ll find it more fun to be a part of the festivities than hiding in your room.”
“Will Starla be here?” I ask, nervous because he’s never told me not to attend one of the club events before. I’m not sure if that’s because I’m pregnant or because New Year’s is far more rowdy and dangerous. Maybe both.
“She should be. She normally is.” He gives me a scintillating smile. “If you decide to come, maybe put on one of those dresses of yours, hmm? I haven’t seen you wear one in weeks.”
Not since before Christmas. That’s for sure. Maybe even since before the girls and I went Christmas shopping. Partly that’s because it’s been so cold and snowy, but part of it is also because I seem to be one of the only girls who wear revealing dresses. Even the club girls tend to wear ripped jeans that show off their asses and crop tops rather than form-fitting dresses. But if Gabriel wants me to wear a sexy dress, I kind of like the idea of showing off for him.
While the guys continue to set up, I get changed into one of my long-sleeve sweater dresses. Its thick-knitted fabric will be warmer than my other dresses. However, it still comes down just far enough to cover my ass and sits off my shoulders, cutting low enough to reveal my collar bones. Rather than seams running up the sides, it’s strung together with a long crisscrossing cord that loops through golden circles and shows off my skin from beneath my armpits, all the way down my sides to the hem. That means I can’t wear a bra or panties without revealing them for all to see. The gap is wide enough to display a glimpse of my hip bones and side cleavage. The dark-grey fabric contrasts with my pale skin enough that no one will doubt it’s me they’re seeing. My hair, I coil and pin into a loose bun that falls loosely around my face, framing my cheeks.
Gabriel doesn’t often ask me to wear sexy clothes, though I know he enjoys them. And I don’t know if it’s the pregnancy or this newfound tenderness he seems to be showing me, but I can’t get enough of his cock. It might just be the knowledge that as long as I’m pregnant, it doesn’t matter that he’s been fucking me raw and coming inside me. That alone turns me on more than I ever realized it could.
By the time I’m dressed, wearing knee-high boots I borrowed from Starla a few weeks back, I feel sexy as hell and ready to show off for my biker man. That thought has me hesitating at the door.Is Gabriel my man?He’s certainly done a lot to show me he is, but I’m still not sure this is the life for me. I don’t know that I want this baby. I don’t know that I want to become his old lady. In some ways, this life suits me more than my past one did. But in others, I feel as though I’m lost, unable to really understand who I am and who I want to be.
For the first time in weeks, it’s warm enough after the sun sets that I won’t be shivering inside my winter coat. Not that it’s warm, per se, but at least I’ll be able to stand the cold for longer than an hour.
The boxing matches have already begun when I step out into the cool air. I watch momentarily as two of the newer initiates to the club circle each other inside the ropes. Across the ring, my eyes catch Gabriel’s bright blue ones, and his gaze rakes down over my body, a hunger consuming his face as he takes me in.
A thrill makes my stomach flutter as I realize I can still pull off a dress now. My body hasn’t started to change too much. Gabe still thinks I’m sexy. Smiling coyly, I stay where I am, leaning back against the wall of the house and spreading my legs slightly, and letting my dress ride up a little higher to tease him. When one of the club girls wanders before him, and his eyes never leave me, I feel a sense of pride at knowing I have his full attention.
“You want a beer?” Starla asks, digging around in the snow-filled trough for one herself.
“Uh, no, I think I’m alright for now,” I say, glancing down at the drinks. “I’ll take a water, though.”
She hands over my requested beverage and then leans against the house beside me. It’s odd thinking about not being able to have alcohol. I’m not even old enough to technically drink legally at a bar, though I’ve done it countless times because I had a fake ID and my daddy was rich. But now, I have to consider whether it’s good for the baby. Of course, it wouldn’t really matter if I could just get an abortion, but until we go to the doctor’s appointment, I supposed it’s best if I just hold off. On the off chance that I do decide to keep the baby, I don’t want to risk harming it by drinking.
“He looks at you differently now,” Starla says, and I glance sharply at her.
“What do you mean?”
“Gabriel. He used to look at you with this more possessive kind of attention. But now, there’s something sweeter to his gaze. Don’t get me wrong. He still looks like he’s ready to take you to bed right now.” Starla giggles as my cheeks grow warm. “But I’d almost say there’s a tenderness to it I’ve never seen in him before. You’re good for him.”
I snort, entirely unsure of whether that’s really true. I feel as though I mostly end up causing trouble for him, though it’s really of his own making since he won’t just let me go.
“And, you know, I think he’s been good for you too.”
“Really? How so?” Not that I’m going to argue with her, but I don’t see how she could make that call when she didn’t know me before the night he rescued me from the Blackmoor estate.
“You’re more… sure of yourself, I guess. I mean, I could tell when I first met you that you were scared. That is perfectly reasonable considering you couldn’t remember anything, least of all who Gabriel was. But you also had this kind of, I don’t know, distance, I guess. Like you didn’t even really know what you liked or disliked, you know? Now it feels like you do. And like you’re more confident in where you stand with us or the world or something.”
I suppose, in a way, she’s right. I better understand my limits and what I want in life, but I don’t really know who I am yet. It seems that even when I regained my memories, I still didn’t discover what I wanted. I haven’t found the bigger picture.
“How come you’re not drinking?” Starla asks, and her eyes flick momentarily to my stomach.
I shrug, not ready to tell her about the pregnancy when I’m not even sure I want to keep it. I don’t know how she might feel about the whole abortion thing, and I don’t want her to look at me differently if I decide not to keep it.
Starla lets it drop, gripping my hand instead. “Come on. Let’s get closer to the ring. It’ll be more fun once the heavyweights start to fight.”
A shiver runs down my spine at the thought of being next to the ring with large men pummeling each other. And, of course, with the Devil’s Sons, it’s already apparent that they won’t be holding back. While they are wrapping their knuckles for the fights, they’re not using proper gloves, and the losers so far have already left the snow-covered ground stained with blood.
“Nice dress,” Gabriel growls next to my ear as Starla and I reach the edge of the ring. His hand travels down over my hip, giving me a gentle squeeze.
The rasp of his deep voice sends electric excitement deep into my core, and I feel my panties growing wet with the anticipation of what he might do to me later.
I can smell the beer on his breath, and I’m sorely tempted to have a drink, but I know Gabriel wouldn’t like it, and I don’t want to cause a scene when I’m not even ready to tell Starla I’m pregnant.