8
Fuck me sideways with a broomstick. I’ve met my Kimber. This man, made it into my inner sanctum. No one gets in there. I love to fuck, but I don’t do it in my home and never in my own bed. My bed is reserved for me and my serenity. Now I’ve gone and let all sensibility fly out the damned window. Last night I wasn’t really paying attention to the images on his body. The darkness and the booze made for hazy thoughts. In the light of the mid-afternoon, however, there is little denying the type of man I have let into my bed.
The Irish flag confirmed the brogue I heard when we first met. It would probably take me months to discern most of the ink that covers him from the tips of his fingers to his toes, but the one that has me in my bathroom, having a small panic attack? That is the horned skull that takes up most of his back. In black, red, and grey, its horns round his shoulder blades as it reads Gatekeepers MC, Live Fast, Ride Free, Leave a Good-Looking Corpse.
MC? Like a motorcycle club? It explains the all-cash exchange and the dozens of bikes lined up at his place yesterday. The jury was out, though, about the things he may do until I spied the President marker. Christ, what have I gotten myself into? No sooner had we finished when I headed in here to pee and have a teensy freakout.
I take a few breaths, splash cool water in my face and pull on my pink silk robe before heading back out to my room, praying he’s left already. No such luck.
His eyes meet mine, and his head cocks to the side before he gives the nod walking over to me. “Thanks, Doc. I’m gonna head out. My girl is waiting to go to the clubhouse.” He grasps my chin between his thumb and forefinger before kissing me lightly. “That’s twice. The first time you were drunk. You don’t have that excuse here. You need to decide what you want to do. You know where I live, and you got my digits. Use them if you want to.” With that, he leaves me standing in the doorway.
Fuck!
***
“What is it that you want?” Giovanni, my mentor, friend, and once upon a time lover, asks me as I sit in his study. It’s Tuesday evening, and after getting over the Monday Yips, I came out to his place to make sure that it was clean and that he’s got all the food he needs for the week. Parkinson's makes it hard for him to do much more than reheat, which frustrates him severely for a foodie like he was. Talking with him has always been my release, but it's getting harder every time I see him take a step backward. We got involved when my daddy issues were at their peak, but his kindness got me through everything. That he believed I really could accomplish my dreams was what sealed us.
“Christ, Gio, I have no idea. You know how I feel about complicated relationships.”
I watch his shoulders lift with amusement as his hand slowly lifts with a tremor, and he points between us. “Are—we—not complicated?”
“It’s different. We are and always have been colleagues. This man—”
“Y—you should say his name. We are more than our pronouns.”
I huff. “Saint is probably dangerous, and not in the way a fast car is dangerous. I mean, this guy has probably either really hurt people or had others do it. The way the guys with him act—” I run a hand down my face. “He’s so—”
“Alpha?”
“Exactly!” I put my finger on my nose.
“You have a need to control most things. Maybe you need to learn to surrender.”
My eyes lift, and I see my brother Tobias, Tobey, as I prefer to call him. “I will do no such thing.” My arms cross over my chest.
“Honey, you can pout all day, but you got yourself a repeat offender from what I am hearing. Take advantage, them bikes vibrate…hard.” He leans over and kisses my forehead before sitting. “When can I come in? I got the clearance from my insurance. I just need to shake this stomach bug I picked up.”
“Come in Thursday, I have an early spot, and we can run your preliminary panels.”
“Sounds good, Mami. I cannot wait to get this over with.”
I smile. Tobey has spent a long time waiting to feel whole. I am just glad that I can help in some small way. I stand up. “Okay, you two behave. I’ll be back Friday for dinner. Standing reservation at Del Sole?”
“Yes,” Gio answers as I hug him. This is going to be a long week.