He hid his grin, placing the straw between his lips and sucking down his milkshake.
“The Bronze Horseman are my all-time favorite books, they’re a trilogy... but uh... do you like to read?” I casually asked. Noah’s words echoed in my mind about not knowing a thing about him. Silently hoping he would answer my question and not disregard it again.
“When it interests me.”
Out of the corner of my eye, the Parenting 101 magazine beside him, caught my attention. My stare wandered from one magazine to the next, noticing for the first time that all the bindings were worn, and the pages were somewhat crinkled.
I bit down on my lower lip, suppressing a squeal. Excitement bubbled from deep within me. About to erupt like an active volcano. These weren’t new, at least not for him. He’d read them before bringing them to me. My eyes immediately went back to the magazine lying open in front of him, finally realizing what he was jotting down. It wasn’t a magazine he was gazing at this whole time. It was a Babies R Us catalog. He was circling the things he liked—furniture, toys, and anything else that interested him.
My heart melted at the sight of him. The initiative he had, planning for baby girl’s arrival. I wanted to go over to him and tackle him to the ground. But I stayed put, mentally biting my tongue. If I called him out on it, he would stop. I’d embarrass him. He was trying to play it off like it wasn’t a big deal. As if what he was doing didn’t mean anything to me.
When it meant everything.
“So, what other shit you like to do, besides surfin’?”
“Oh! I love that crib!” I blurted after he circled it.
He nodded, not paying me any mind. “Figured you would since your favorite color is pink. Baby girl will prolly love pink, too. Just keep it in her room, yeah? Don’t want our place to turn into a fuckin’ playroom.”
I jerked back, confused. “Our place?”
He set the marker down, leaned back on the barstool, and pulled something shiny out of his jean pocket. “Come here,” he ordered, finally peering up at me with an expression I couldn’t read.
I did, rounding the island till I was close enough for him to grab my hand. He pulled me in between his legs, caging me with his arms placed on the granite behind me.
“The clubhouse ain’t no place for a baby girl to be runnin’ around. Screamin’, hollerin’, fuckin’ playin’. Ma’s house will always be my home, but it ain’t ours. Ya feel me?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” He softly kissed me. “Got us a place, a house on the water so you can surf whenever you want. It’s near your parents’ place, but not too close that they become a bigger pain in my ass. Hoping maybe one day they will accept me, but don’t hold it against them if they never do. I wouldn’t want my baby girl with a fuckin’ biker, either. But I’m tryin’, Mia. Wanna change for you, have changed for you. Time to start a life with you and baby girl. I know I ain’t the biological father, but it don’t matter. She’s mine, too. Already love her like she’s my own. I wanna be the man you deserve, babe.”
My eyes watered with tears.
“I know you’re young, but from the second I met you, you’ve been wiser beyond your years. Often puttin’ me in my place, only person I ever let do that,” he chuckled, rubbing the tip of his nose back and forth on mine before he pulled away, staring me deep in the eyes. “You got your whole life ahead of ya, and if you’ll take me, I’ll spend each one of those fuckin’ days by your side. Protectin’ you, cherishin’ you, and lovin’ you. Grateful as fuck you let me.”
“Oh my God, Creed, are you propos—”
“No, I’m doin’ somethin’ that means more to me than that. Somethin’ I never thought I’d fuckin’ do,” he interrupted, reaching around to grab his cut from the back of the barstool. Handing it to me with a huge grin on his face.
I took it in my hands, noticing it was much smaller than the one he wore. My eyes widened as soon as I took in the embroidered stitching on the back.
“Property of Creed,” I read out loud, locking eyes with him.
“This is your cut. You wear this and everyone knows you’re mine. No one fucks with you, unless they wanna fuck with me. And trust me, babe, no one wants to fuck with me.” He grabbed the black leather from me, turned it around, and laid it on the counter. Nodding to the front side. “Added some patches, too.”
“Love the life you live. Live the life you love,” I recited one of them, moving onto the next. “Despite the look on my face, you’re still talking,” I laughed, while he wiped away some of my happy tears. “La la la I’m not listening.” He grinned when he saw me eyeing the last few. “A women’s place is on her man’s face,” I huffed, shaking my head, moving on to another. “Don’t mess with a biker’s old lady, unless you want to die.”
He smiled wide. “That one’s my favorite.”
“Of course it would be,” I giggled, reading the last patch. “Don’t even look at me. My biker is VP.”
There were no words to express how I felt in that moment, especially when I read the patch Pippin where my name should be. My mind drifted to the night I went to the party at the clubhouse, remembering how I saw some women wearing cuts. Never imagining I would be one of them in my lifetime. I now understood why none of the brothers were looking at them the way they did with the other women. They were already taken.
This was the MC’s wedding ring.
“So this means you’re officially claimin’ me?”
“Baby, I claimed you the day you were born. You were made for me.”
I threw my arms around him, kissing all over his face. His words hit me in the feels, consuming every fiber of my being. I couldn’t believe this was happening. It was all I ever wanted, for as long as I could remember.
He abruptly stood, taking me with him. Lifting me up like I weighed nothing, wrapping my legs around his waist. Walking us back to his room.
“I like to be outside, feel the sun, the breeze, the air all around me. It’s what I like to do other than surfing,” I answered his question from earlier in between kissing his face. “What about you? What’s your favorite thing to do?”
He kicked the door shut behind him, laying me down on the bed and hovered above me. Looking deep into my eyes, he said, “You, Mia. Bein’ with you is my favorite fuckin’ thing to do.”
And with that, he handed me the key to the new house that he bought for us, so I would love him more than I already did.
Mia was now in her third trimester, seven months pregnant and popping. It was like baby girl decided to grow double in size in only a few weeks time. I left for a few days and came back to a very pregnant Mia. She was still cute-as-shit, fucking adorable, walking around with this basketball under her shirt, or at least that’s what it looked like to me. Mia was all belly. You couldn’t even tell she was pregnant unless she turned to the side.
The season changed over to fall, and it began to get a little colder outside some days. Her clothes were no longer fitting as comfortably as they were before, and I couldn’t take her shopping to see what fit, so we made due. She just started wearing my sweatshirt or long sleeved shirts. It wasn’t like she had anywhere to go or anyone to impress.
She drowned in my clothes, barely being able to tell she was even pregnant anymore. I fucking loved it. Seeing her waddling around, wearing my things. I always made sure I took something with me when I left, so I’d have something to remind me of her since her addicting scent lingered in the fabric. Offering time and time again to try and bring her back some maternity clothes when I left, but she refused, saying my things were perfect. All she wanted was for me to come back home to her safely.
I hated that she started to think of this place as her home. Especially because of the reason she was there in the first place, for the last two months. I let it slide, playing it off when I was around her. Not wanting to add to the grief that I knew she already carried.
“Hey,” Diesel greeted, standing guard outside the safe house. Watching me walk up.
“You’re here early.”
I nodded to him. “Why don’t you and Taz take off for a while. Got some business to handle with Mia.”
“Everything alright?”
“I’d tell you if it wasn’t.”
“Alright. We’ll be back later tonight. After dark enough time for you to handle your woman?”
“Should be. I’ll let ya know otherwise if anythin’ changes.”
“Alright. Be gentle, bro.” He winked, nudging my shoulder as he walked away with Taz.
I took a deep breath, standing on the porch, staring at the front door after they left. Trying to gather my thoughts before entering the safe house. This relationship shit was such new territory for me, but I wanted to make Mia happy. She was such an amazing woman and deserved a man who could put his pride and ego aside. Even if it was only for a few hours, just to give her what she obviously craved.
Women always said men were complicated, but they couldn’t have been more fucking wrong. Men were easy—we wanted to be fed and we wanted pussy, that’s it. As long as our woman kept our stomach’s full and our ball’s empty, we were fucking golden. Everything else was just an added bonus.
Women were a fucking paradox of contradictions. Mia’s hormones were all over the place. One minute she was happy and the next she was crying over the stupidest shit, like a commercial on TV or a line she read in one of her books. Her emotions were a roller coaster and I was riding along, holding on for dear fucking life. Sometimes I could barely keep up.
I used to laugh at the brothers when it came to their old ladies. Badass bikers turned into pussy-whipped bitches, and here I was doing whatever it took to make Mia smile. To make her laugh. To make her happy.
To keep her in love with me.
She glanced up from her book when she heard me walk in. “Have I told you how much I love you coming back early?”
I set some bags down on the coffee table and took a seat beside her, pulling her onto my lap. She came effortlessly, straddling my waist, leaving enough room for her growing belly. I grabbed her chin, bringing her pouty lips over to meet mine, kissing her like I hadn’t seen her in months. She moaned, reaching for my belt buckle.
But I caught her wrist at the last second, softly pecking her lips one last time. “Got plenty of time for that later.”
“You’re passing up sex? Creed Jameson, are you feeling okay?” she giggled as she pulled away, sitting up straight. “What’s in there?” she questioned, pointing over her shoulder at the shopping bags. “Your momma make me some more food? Baby girl has been feigning for her apple pie.”
“I bought you a lil’ somethin’.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Grab the gray bag.”
She reached behind her, picking up the lightweight bag, and placed it in between the baby and me. Her eyes glazed over when she pulled out the cream dress.
“Thought of you when I rode past a mannequin, wearin’ it in the window at one of those fancy shops downtown.”
“It’s beautiful. I can’t wait to wear it when we can go out some day. Thank you, I love it.”
“Wear it for me.”
“Now?” she asked, confused. Looking around the room.
“Yeah, babe. Go get all dolled up for me.”
She smirked, placing the dress back into the bag. “I can do that.”
I watched her prance out of the living room, waiting till she was out of sight before grabbing the rest of the bags. Getting started on what I had to do. Thinking how fucking perfect Mia was going to look the entire time I was working. She had no clue that I hid makeup in the bottom of the bag, as well. Not that she needed it. She was flawless, naturally beautiful, but I knew she missed all that girly shit. Dressing up in something other than my clothes. Doing her hair and makeup for the first time in months, making her feel somewhat human again.
I spent most of my morning at the department store, trying to figure out what the hell was on the displays. There was too much to choose from. Silently questioning if women really used this much shit on their faces. No wonder it took them so fucking long to get ready. Thank God for the older lady behind the counter, who noticed I was getting frustrated with the endless supply of who the fuck knows what.
Finally, walking out with just the basics.
After spending thirty minutes, getting everything set for Mia, I spent another thirty minutes on the couch, waiting for her to emerge. I knew girls took fucking forever to get ready, but this was getting ridiculous. I waited another twenty minutes. Flipping through some of her gossip magazines she had laying around before I decided to forego this waiting bullshit. Walking back to my bedroom to see what the hold-up was all about, instead.
“Mia!” I called out, knocking on the bathroom door. “Everythin’ alright in there?”
“Yeah! Just... Just...” She sounded like she was crying. “Give me a few more minutes!”
“Babe, I’m—” I started opening the door.
“NO! Don’t come in here!”
“The fuck?” I whispered to myself, opening the door anyway. Completely caught off guard by what I walked in on.
She was soaking wet, standing naked in the bathtub. Her legs covered in shaving cream and a razor in her hand. “I told you not to come in here,” she choked out, instantly covering her tits with her arms.
“Pippin, ain’t nothin’ new. I’ve seen them,” I said, gesturing to her breasts.
She blushed, her eyes watering with fresh tears. “I didn’t want you to see me like this.”
“Mia, what’s goin’ on?”
She sank back into the bathtub, fidgeting with the razor in her hands, not looking at me. “I just can’t...” she whispered out the rest of her sentence so low, I couldn’t hear what she said.
“Gotta speak up, babe, can’t read lips.”
She sighed with tears streaming down her pretty face. “I can’t shave ... by myself, anymore. I’m too big... It’s too hard... My belly won’t... it won’t let me bend over...” she let it out, speaking in the saddest voice I’d ever heard. “I’m sorry. I know this isn’t sexy... I just wanted to look perfect for you... but I’m fat...”
It broke my heart seeing her so weak over something so unimportant to me. I knew it was against her nature. Mia was one of the strongest women I’d ever met.
She’d have to be, to put up with me.
I was over to her in three steady strides, grabbing the razor out of her hand and helping her up out of the water. “Park that sweet little ass of yours on the back ledge of the tub for me, babe.”
She sniffled, wiping away her tears with the back of her hand. Doing what she was told. I crouched down at the side of the tub and reached into the soapy bath water, grabbing her foot. Propping it up on the edge in front of me. She watched with curious eyes, as I gathered suds from the water in my hands and slid them down her soft, silky skin. Getting her leg prepped, again.
Her lips parted, sucking in air, when I placed the razor to her ankle, gently gliding it up to her knee. Being careful not to cut her.
“Only gonna say this one fuckin’ time.” I stopped shaving her leg so I could look at her. “You’re perfect, Mia. Always have been, always will be. I’m here for you no matter what... To shave you, bathe you, or fuck you,” I paused, smiling. Trying to get her to laugh, earning me a smirk, instead. I leaned forward, grinning against her mouth, rasping, “And just so you know... I’m hard as fuck right now. Been hard since I saw you standin’ there wet, glowin’, all fuckin’ delicious. Don’t ever let me hear you say your fat, again. I’ll take ya over my knee and spank that little fuckin’ ass. You’re the sexiest woman I ever laid eyes on, big belly and all. Ya feel me?”
She bit her lip, nodding. More tears falling down her cheeks. This time I wiped them away with my thumbs. “I ask myself every fuckin’ day how I got so goddamn lucky. You’re my everythin’, babe. Can’t imagine my life without you in it. I love you.”
I kissed her and went back to my task at hand. Mia blushed the
entire time, and I couldn’t help but love being able to do this for her. Feeling as though I was a part of her pregnancy, if that made any sense. When I was done shaving her all over, I spread her legs open and ate her pussy like a starving fucking man, unable to resist her naked body any longer. It helped, making Mia more comfortable and relaxed again. My touch consistently had that effect on her.
I would always take care of my girl.
In every sense of the word.
Creed helped me out of the tub after he finished giving me a mind-blowing orgasm with his mouth. Wrapping a towel around my shivering body to warm me up. He offered to dress me, too, but I declined. Telling him I could handle it. Truth be told, I really just needed a few minutes to myself. I couldn’t believe what he’d done for me. It was more intimate than anything we’d ever shared together, more than anything I’d ever shared with anyone. I always knew there were several sides to him. Though I never imagined, he could be like this...
With me.
There were no words to express how I felt in that moment, in that second, in that instant...
With him.
There were never any gray areas with Creed. No maybes. It was either black or white, yes or no. It took me until that day to realize I was his gray area. I was the maybe. He really would do anything for me, and I didn’t understand why it took something so minuscule to prove it. He had been showing me since the first day I met him and every day after.
Pushing me away, time and time again.
Having to say goodbye before he went into the military, and taking my courage patch with him.
Talking to me at the lake, when I needed a friend.
Giving me my first kiss.
And every other time that followed...
His actions always contradicted his words. And now his words belonged to me. I think this was the turning point in our relationship, where I truly knew he was mine.
He’d always been mine.
He was leaning against the front door with his arms crossed over his chest, when I walked into the living room. Fully dressed for him with my hair and makeup all done up. He looked me up and down, taking in every last inch of my body, from head to toe. Staring at me, igniting a feeling deep within my body, the only way Creed ever could.