Gunner

Her pregnant belly is a bit challenging, but she’s enjoying it.

I try even harder. I try as hard as never before.

No—

I don’t need to try. It’s just happening like we’ve been together since forever. Every particle of my being is focused on making her feel good. She is my Sol, after all. My sun and my life.

I sink my face between her thighs and lick her cunt. She smells right. She tastes right. She looks right.

No—

It’s so much more. Everything is absolutely perfect about her—her white flawless skin, her soft curves, the arousal dripping from her pussy.

It’s madness I’ve never experienced before. I’m ravenous. I’m insane.

I lap my tongue over her clit then suck it gently, sliding a finger in and out of her pussy, only knuckle deep. Sol moans and leans back in the chair, pushing her hips against my face. I massage her sensitive nub with my thumb, now harder, faster. Her muscles tense up. She clutches the edge of the chair with her fingers, her knees spread wide apart. Her heels dig into the floor as her head drops back. I slide two fingers into her pussy. I’m careful and slow. My thumb is still rubbing against her clit, and she comes, shivering and moaning. Her inner walls contract around my digits.

Fuck yeah. I can’t wait to sink my aching dick into her hot wet cunt.

I rise to my feet and scoop her into my arms. Her hazy glance sweeps over my face as I carry her to the bedroom. I lay her on the bed and tear the robe off her, tossing it to the flowery 50s armchair.

She rolls on her side and her large tits wave as I strip in an instant and lie down beside her. My mouth captures hers before she returns to reality.

Before she tells me to go away and never come back.

I kiss her deeply but with tenderness, then move my mouth down, planting kisses on her jaw, and finally, I caress the sensitive area of her neck where it meets her shoulder. Her back arches against my chest so I know I’m on the right track. I stroke her nipples then roll one and push my hard cock into her drenched cunt.

Sol gasps and throws her arm around my neck.

“Good, baby?” I ask.

“Good,” she murmurs.

I brace her chest with one arm and thrust into her slowly, massaging her clitoris with my finger.

“Harder,” she demands. “Gunner, please.”

She can be sweet. Sweet like a kitten rubbing its body against the calf. I love that sweetness of hers.

“After the baby’s been born, okay?” I kiss her cheek and massage her clitoris with more pressure.

She snorts and purrs then arches her body against mine, our lips meeting hungrily. I punish her mouth with my tongue so thirsty for her sweetness and she comes again with a loud moan. Her body trembles. Her pussy contracts rhythmically, bringing me to the brink.

I thrust into her hard and my balls tighten.

A growl leaves my mouth. “Fuck.”

A wave of liberating heat makes my toes curl, and I cum. Cum hard. I hear myself moaning as my mind fills with white nothingness.

I’m deaf. I’m blind. I’m pleasantly exhausted.

Sol drops off to sleep so I bury her in my embrace and cover us with the comforter.

It’s good. She likes my cock. She likes it when I’m fucking her.

What should I do next not to fuck it up?

I listen to her steady breath and think feverishly. Maybe a nice meal? Or red roses?

A thought hits me. I have just fucked her in my brother’s bed.

Forgive me, bro.

Forgive me, bro, for my lack of remorse, for my lack of respect. Forgive me, bro, for capturing your wife selfishly and only for myself.

I will take care of your family, Shay.

My mind drifts off to practical things. A house is a good idea. A sweet little house. Yeah, I’ll start looking for a house in the evening.

The door of the bedroom creaks, and I see Auntie Sive walk in. She stops in the doorway and arches her eyebrows as I lever myself up on my elbow. We stare at one another as my heart pounds in my chest. Then she nods and winks at me, her lips curling into a mysterious smile.

I want to say something, but she makes a shush gesture.

I hope that means she’s not going to spill anything to Uncle Axel. Well, if I wake up with my face bruised and with my dick chopped off, I will know.

Sive leaves the bedroom, and I hear the front door creak. I bury my face in Sol’s neck and inhale her. She shudders as I kiss the angle of her jaw and stroke her stomach. Then her breathing deepens and I know she’s fast asleep.

I allow myself to rest for about fifteen minutes then I get up and cook for Sol. I wake her two hours later and we eat in the back garden.

“Do you like it, baby?” I ask and squeeze her hand with mine.

“It’s delicious as always.” Her eyes wander off to somewhere in the distance.

I lean towards her and kiss her cheek. “More orange juice?” I correct the blanket around her and smooth all the wrinkles.

“No, thanks.”

I kiss her knuckles then kiss her forehead. “You want a bath now?”

“I want to go to bed now. Is my mom coming tonight?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“She is tired so I told her to rest.”

Like I said, I’m not a decent man. I lie like a professional.

Sol nods. I can see that she’s tired so I pull her to me and carry her to her bed. I have a shower and return to the bedroom. I pull at the comforter, sliding under it and stretch my naked body beside hers.

I kiss her cheek and stroke her arm, but she seems to be somewhere else, far from here. Iciness surges through my veins. I enclose her in my arms, kissing her shoulder.

“You can go now, Gunner.” There is no emotion in her voice.

“I can stay. That’s no problem for me. I don’t snore, I promise.”

“I can manage on my own. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

I don’t want to go, but maybe it’s better not to piss her off. “See you tomorrow then. I love you, baby.”

Her sharp breath answers me. I crawl off the bed, rummage around the room to pick up my clothes and put them on. I walk out and silence follows me like a cold exhale of harsh winter.

I walk to my house slowly like a magnet is pulling me back to Sol’s and I go straight to bed. My head pulsates with the images of Sol’s lush curves and I roll in bed the whole night.

As I enter the garage in the morning, Axel grabs my arm and shoves me into the office, slamming the glass door shut behind us.

“Where are they?” he asks with fury, his fist banging on the grey desk.

“What?”

“They took the car and left before dawn. Sive, Sol, and Carrie.”

“What?”

He hasn’t smashed my face yet, so Sive didn’t tell him anything about Sol and my time together.

He grunts. “You heard me. My wife texted me they were going on vacation. A fucking vacation. You fucking tell me right now what the fuck is going on?”

“I fucking don’t know.”

Axel runs his fingers through his messy brown hair. “She’s never done something like this.”

He means Sive. Sol was a rebellious kid. She did a lot of rebellious things in childhood. She sneaked into the bedroom I shared with Shay each time she had an argument with Axel. I had to sleep on the floor while she took possession of my bed. She once convinced me to get on a bus and go to another county. I was eleven then. Fucking hell. Our parents wanted to kill us or suffocate us with their hugs of relief, I wasn’t sure. Sol once stole a bottle of vodka. That was when I was thirteen and we got drunk together. We threw up like two sick cats for two days.

We twisted our ankles together.

We bruised our knees together.

We saved a baby pigeon together.

We faced a fox together.

I carried her in my arms when she was a baby. Well, sort of. My dad helped me.

“Maybe they want to be in their own company, you know, like a girls’ vacation or something.” I scratch my head.

Axel nods. “Sive texted me they would be back in a month. Can you fucking believe it? A fucking month.” He lays his hand on my shoulder. “Gunner Senior must know something.”

He means the good Gunner, my dad. I’m Gunner Junior, the bad Gunner.

“Come to my place,” Axel says, “later this evening.”

I salute him.

Sol

I open my eyes as the car slows down.

Mom is driving. A ballad is playing on the radio, one of my favourite. It’s called ‘Whisper’.

I glance to the side. Carrie is holding my hand and staring out the window. I close my eyes and feel relieved. My problems will stay far behind me. I’m free. I will be free for a month.

We’re going to visit Daisy. My cousin is living in the compound owned by the Devil’s Tears MC.

“Is it safe?” Carrie asks as though she can read my thoughts, but I have the impression that she doesn’t really care.

She looks so lifeless. Grey like the world on an autumnal rainy morning.

“Well,” I say and lace my fingers with hers. “The Shadow Wolves once were as dangerous as them. They will respect us.”

I see my mom’s wicked smile in the rear-view mirror.

They don’t respect women the way our club respects us, but Carrie doesn’t need to know about this. Mike will take care of us. They respect him enough to allow him to invite us over and host us for a month.

My club comprises real badasses; my uncle, Zane, is President and my dad is Vice, but at the moment, we need to stay in hiding, scattered, forgotten. We will be back in business one day. We’ll regain our lifestyle. We’ll be altogether as a family.

I just know that.

Mom turns into a narrow asphalt road leading to the parking lot in front of a pub perched on a white cliff. She stops between a lorry and a silver fiat Panda, twists her chest and glances at me with tired eyes.

“Fish and chips?” she signs.

“Yes, I’m really hungry.”

I look at Carrie. Coldness radiates from her like she’s a marble statute. I stroke her arm and my mom holds her hand. My eyes sweep over Carrie’s once beautiful red hair now thin and marked by greys.

“Carrie, we’re going to eat something,” I say. “And then we’ll go straight to the airport.”

She gives me a nod and sinks into her numbness. God, how I hate myself for doing this to her.

I killed her son. My face must remind her of his death each time we see each other.

I made her grandchild damaged for life even though the baby is still in my womb. Carrie loves all the children of the world. Her heart must be bleeding at the grim future awaiting my baby.

We get out of the car and go to the pub. The interior has a rustic décor. Bunches of dried herbs and green bottles covered with dust decorate the ceiling. We settle ourselves into a wooden booth and a waitress comes to take our orders.

As the food arrives on the table, I grab my fork and focus on eating. Carrie’s nibbling her meal, but surprisingly, I wolf down mine. I used to enjoy food before Shay’s death.

Gunner is a very good cook, but my stomach feels now like it has dried out. This is the first time in the last three months I’m leaving my plate empty.

Gunner. His name bangs in my head, making my cheeks heat up. Mom glances at me like she knows my dirty secrets. I didn’t tell her what had happened between Gunner and me. I just asked her to take me to Daisy. She agreed and she didn’t interrogate me. This is how she is, always supporting me how I need her.

Dad? Well, he should receive a master’s degree in interrogation techniques. I’m not allowed to breathe without his permission. I’m not allowed to leave my own house without his permission.

I remember how furious he was when I announced that I’d fallen in love with Shay. Poor Shay. My dad broke his nose and forced him to drink two bottles of vodka. Shay was throwing up for three days.

Poor Shay. He died not knowing I was pregnant with him.

We finish eating and leave the pub. I settle myself behind the steering wheel.

I used to love riding my motorcycle, but now I avoid even looking at it. It reminds me of Shay’s accident too much.

Five hours later, we are seated in the plane that will take us to the Devil’s Tears, to Daisy who is my cousin, my best friend, my confidant.

We spend the night in the air then we rent a car and shoot forward to meet Mike. He’s waiting for us at a small petrol station in the middle of nowhere.

Warmth washes over my heart at the sight of his unshaven face and massive frame—he is our werewolf with the blackest hair I’ve ever seen and the most amber eyes in the world. Every kid in our family called him a werewolf. My every female cousin, including me, were in love with him, but this was Daisy who snatched him up. What a mess. Mike is twenty-eight years older than Daisy. Zane, Daisy’s dad, wanted to kill him when she got pregnant with Mike. My God, my granddad, Dimitri, almost killed him. My granddad, Boulder, almost killed him.

I get out of the car and dart to greet him.

“Mike!” I exclaim with joy.

“Jeez, a pregnant squeaker,” Mike growls and he winces as though he’s in an unbearable mental pain, as I fall into his enormous muscular arms.

As I cling to him, another soft body finds refuge in his arms. This is Carrie. Then my mom joins us. But, Mike can manage—he’s big enough. Warm enough.

“There are rules,” he says instead of greeting us. “Do you understand?”

“I know,” I say as he kisses the top of my head and gently pushes me away.

“You stay in the house all the time,” Mike says. “You leave the house only with me.”

“You said they were decent people,” I say and flash him a smile.

“They won’t be decent around such tempting female bodies,” Mike says. “I don’t want any fights or corpses.” He looks at me sternly. “I mean it.”

Mom salutes him and he raises his finger in a threatening gesture then winks at her.

“Follow me,” he says and jumps on his bike.

He leads us to the compound hidden behind a high concrete wall with barbed wire on top and we enter the world of crude scarred bikers, club whores, guns, and nasty swear words. The air of danger envelops me. I’m a bitch here. A bitch who has to obey the rules. I don’t belong in here, but this place wakes my yearning for the house in the Spanish Pyrenees where my family gathers once or twice a year in Zane’s house, where we are the Shadow Wolves MC again.

My primal part absorbs the wildness of this place, resonates with the fierce vibes wafting through the air, craves the life my family once had and lost.

Then I see Daisy with her daughter sitting on her hip. She’s standing on the veranda of a small wooden house. She looks like she belongs in here and that thought makes me feel stunned for a split second. Her grey eyes blaze as toughness radiates from her. She’s not my sweet cousin any more. She’s an old lady. A biker is standing beside her, and he looks twenty-three years old at most. His amber eyes burn with fury. I know this fury. This is the fury of a born killer. My dad’s eyes will sometimes flicker with such fury.

The man reminds me of somebody, but it’s too blurry, too translucent to picture the name or face in my mind.

I move closer to them and Daisy’s face lights up.

“Sol,” she squeaks.

“Daisy,” I squeak.

The young man beside her sends me a smirk.

Daisy throws her daughter at me and hugs us both.

“Hello Amber,” I say and kiss the little one’s head.

“This is Rebel,” Daisy says, pointing her finger to the man.

“Who the fuck are you exactly?” I thrust my chin at Rebel.

“Who the fuck are you?” Rebel responds and glares at me.

“Rebel is my stepson,” Daisy says and bobs her head at me.

“Holy shit,” I explode. “Is he…?”

Now, I see the resemblance between Mike and Rebel whose name evokes a lot of memories. Dad has mentioned him a number of times, talking to my mom. Daisy mentioned him when we talked over the phone and when I saw her at Zane’s place. I guess the grey wall of misery around my mind has been really solid, but it’s crumbling.

Mike and his son share the deep colour of the iris though Rebel’s hair has a bit lighter shade, ashy brown like soil.

Mike moves closer to Rebel and pats his shoulder. “There will be a lot of squeaking.” He runs his fingers through his hair. “Enjoy the greatest family of squeakers in the world.”

“Fucking hell,” Rebel says. “We need to get drunk, Dad.”

I widen my eyes at how natural it is for Rebel to say ‘dad’. Well, Daisy must have done a really good job here. The last time I saw her, she told me Rebel had desired to put a bullet into Mike’s skull.