What it takes to love a Spurlock
By
Lani Lynn Vale
Wanna ride?
Of course, Trance, but what’s the motorcycle for?
-Viddy’s secret thoughts
Viddy
“Please,” I whispered to Trance. “You need to hurry.”
Trance’s lips skimmed down my spine, his night stick digging into my back.
His real night stick, not his cock. Although I felt that one, too.
“Why?” Trance’s deep, beautiful voice asked. “Kids are sleeping. My brother’s aren’t supposed to be here for another hour at least.”
I snorted, disbelief taking over my face.
“You know damn well and good you’re not going to get to finish this,” I whispered, pushing my ass into his cock. “You’re going to stick your fat dick in me, then they’re going to show. It happens every single time.”
Trance chuckled against my back, his beard rasping against the skin just above the waistband of my jeans. “I love it when you call my dick fat. It’s good for my ego.”
I looked over and saw the green numbers of the clock beside our bed glowing seven thirty in the morning.
I closed my eyes and thought about all the things I had to get done before we went camping this weekend. Then my mind wandered to the fact that I hadn’t packed the kids’ bags yet.
A sharp smack on my ass had me gasping as I pulled air into my lungs.
I turned and fisted my hand, pulling back to sock Trance in the stomach, but he caught my hand with hilarious ease and secured it behind my back like a common criminal.
“Now, now,” he teased. “You’re getting a little combative. I’m going to have to secure you for your own good.”
I hissed at him and turned to wiggle out from under him, but he only helped me roll to my back and lifted not just one hand above my head, but two hands.
“Keep them there,” he ordered.
When I went to yank them down the moment he set them free, he grinned at me and reached for the utility belt that was still around his hips.
Why when he usually hung it up in the laundry room on his way in, I didn’t know, but he had it.
Meaning he also had access to his cuffs. Something he said he never found sexy to use during the heat of the moment.
But I’d requested that he used them, and he’d obviously decided to indulge me.
“We don’t have time for this!” I hissed, tilting my hips up involuntarily when he worked his fingers between my legs.
My mouth fell open as his lips started to skim along my naked chest, stopping periodically to suck up water droplets leftover from my shower only moments before.
“Trance,” I moaned, tilting my head even further back as I started to lift my hips to move with his skillful fingers.
I heard the telltale sound of his zipper lowering, and not seconds later, his cock parting the lips of my sex.
His dick started to fill me, and I lifted my legs with my hands, parting my thighs even wider to grant him easier access.
“Mommy?” My son called. “It’s wakey time!”
I dropped my legs and started to push him away, but he grabbed my hands once again, picked up the cuffs from the mattress where he’d dropped them at some point, and expertly attached them to both wrists.
I tried to yank them down to punch him in the face, but soon realized the error of my ways when the cool metal dug painfully into my skin seeing as the cuffs were weaved between the metal bars of our headboard.
“I think I like these,” he said, leaning forward and letting his cock sink even deeper inside of me.
I gasped, my hips starting to jerk once again at the feel of him fully inside of me, but stopped only seconds later when my son’s voice interrupted us once again.
“Mommy,” Ford called through the door, knocking obnoxiously. “Oakley stole my coffee!”
Trance’s thrusting stopped, and he stared at me for a long moment.
“I brought you a latte,” he rumbled softly. “I forgot to tell you.”
I huffed a laugh and tried to displace him, but he started back up again, quietly working his cock in and out of my willing pussy.
“Jesus, Trance.” I said. “You have to stop.”
“They’ll be fine.” He promised. “Just shut up and play with your clit.”
I didn’t play with my clit seeing as my hands were handcuffed to the bed, something he soon realized.
“Oops,” he laughed. “Guess you can’t do that, can you?”
“Mommy!” Oakley cried. “Tequila just ate all the donuts! No! Bad dog! You whore! You stupid filthy whore!”
I leaned forward and bit Trance on the bicep, causing him to curse, but not to stop.
“If you don’t get off of me so help me God,” I panted.
Despite my anger, I was close.
Really close.
He thrust his hips, and my ass came off the bed with the force of it.
“Jesus Christ!” I gasped, my pussy clenching.
He growled.
“You should really learn how to control your mouth,” he laughed softly against my lips. “The kids are already swearing like crazy already.”
I flipped him off, and he started to really ramp up his thrusts, soon taking my breath away right along with my common sense.
There was no way in hell those kids weren’t destroying my house that I’d just cleaned. No way.
However, Trance had a way of making me forget everything in the world around me, and only focus on him.
His hard cock pressing deep inside of me. His hips swiveling and pushing the head of his cock against my cervix.
“There it is,” he said, grinding his hips now.
My orgasm took me over, pulling me in so deeply that I didn’t even realize I was moaning continuously until I heard Trace yell.
“Mommy’s angry! Go away before she comes and gets you and you don’t get to go to breakfast with us!” Trance bellowed.
Small feet darted off away from our door, and I dropped my knees to the mattress in exhaustion
It was then I became aware of the gun digging into the back of my leg, and what felt like the wire from his mic tangled in my hair.
Trance easily disentangled it, though, having had experience with it over the last couple of years.
Why the man couldn’t control himself long enough to get his work clothes off was beyond me.
Once I was free, I got up and started to hurry to the bathroom, but froze when I saw the smudge marks on my white duvet cover.
“This is never going to come out,” I moaned, looking at the dark smudges of God knew what on our bed from Trance’s disgusting shoes.
“Gun oil,” he said lightly, brushing it off with his hand.
He only managed to smear it, and I screamed.
“Get out!”
Trance’s different colored eyes, one green and one blue, sparkled as he gave me a salute.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And get the kids dressed.” I ordered him. “I set their clothes out on the couch in the living room.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Trance replied dutifully again.
I flipped him off as he left, then went and cleaned up before donning my respectable clothes for Oakley’s meet-the-teacher night at school in less than an hour.
For some reason I’d said yes to all three Spurlock brothers coming to Oakley’s meet-the-teacher, and I likely was going to pay for that when I got there. They were all intimidating in their own right, but put them together and they were downright terrifying if you didn’t know them. It was some sort of crazy, that was for sure.
Although Oakley would be attending Kindergarten this year, and it broke my heart to think about her getting on the school bus all by herself. It was something she’d wanted since she saw some of the other Dixie Wardens MC members’ kids getting on over the last year.
Such as Blaise ‘the badass’ as she liked to call her. Although Blaise’s father, Sebastian, had told her flat out no on the riding the bus, she’d gotten her way the day of by simply wiggling that finger her father was wrapped around.
“Are you ready yet?” Trance called from the kitchen. “We’re going to be late!”
I glared at the closed bedroom door as if I could see him, then flipped him off again.
The man was so impatient!
“I’m almost done!” I yelled instead of telling him to hold his fucking horses like I wanted to do.
Once I grabbed my watch off the nightstand, I walked to the door, opened it, and immediately rolled my eyes when I found Miller and Foster on the couch, their wives and their kids on the floor at their feet.
“What are y’all doing here?” I asked the two ladies.
Blake, Foster’s wife, pointed at her husband accusingly. Mercy, Miller’s wife, did the same.
I snorted.
“Are y’all coming, too?” I asked them.
“We’re going to play at the playground with the kids while y’all go do what y’all have to do.” Blake answered. “Foster is a little anxious, and wants to meet the woman that’ll be taking care of his first baby girl.”
I laughed, then.
The brother, as I’d already said, were protective. Very protective.
Then again, Trance was just the same with Miller’s kids, Samuel and Sierra, as well as Foster’s kids, Beckham and Louis.
Although the girls seemed to be on the receiving end of their protectiveness rather than the boys.
Poor Oakley.
“There is nothing at all wrong with us going.” Miller muttered sullenly from the couch. “This is one of those things that needs to be done to ensure they treat our girl right.”
I turned to survey all three brothers, then promptly burst out laughing.
My living room wasn’t small in the least, but with two of the men dressed in SWAT gear—black boots, black cargo pants with reflective stripes down the side, black polo shirt embroidered with KPD SWAT on the breast pocket, and full utility belt including a gun and a taser, they were anything but innocent.
Trance had on his actual uniform today for some odd reason. Black uniform pants, black button up shirt with his radio clipped to his lapel. His shirt was partially undone showing the top of his Kevlar vest, and his massive black gun on one hip, with his nightstick and taser on the other.
I hadn’t seen him dress in full uniform in months, but today he had them all on, having taken off duty for a full two hours so he could go to the meet-the-teacher.
“Y’all are terrible,” I snickered.
Trance’s beautiful mouth kicked up in a small smile.
“I think the word you’re looking for is efficient.”
Yes, they were definitely efficient.
Forty-five minutes later, Oakley dressed in hot pink skinny jeans, a black Harley t-shirt with pink glitter writing, and a baseball cap that declared her a member of the NRA, walked into the school with three police officers at her back.
No one but the teacher, who looked somewhat taken back, even approached.
“You must be Oakley Spurlock.” The teacher smiled. “My name’s Mrs. Engles. I can tell you’re loved.”
Oakley turned her face up to her uncles, and then to her daddy, and then nodded before turning back to her teacher.
“You bet your sweet ass I am.”
I closed my eyes as Ford started laughing.
I, however, was not laughing.
Not even a little bit.
***
Trance
Monday Morning
0700
“Why the fuck is a bus picking kids up so early?” Miller asked. “A kid shouldn’t be on the bus for an hour. Do you think she’ll be able to hold her bladder for that long?”
I looked over at Miller who was on his motorcycle, idling beside me, and shrugged.
“They asked us to send extra clothes along with her backpack and a packed lunch at meet the teacher last Thursday.” I explained. “But I’m not sure why they have to get on the bus so early. Viddy wasn’t able to feed her, either.”
“Viddy told me that they feed her at school.” Foster supplied from my other side. He was on his motorcycle, too.
Something that we didn’t do very often since we were all so fucking busy.
This day, however, was monumental. Not just for Oakley, but for me as well.
My heart felt like something important had been ripped from me.
Something vital that should never have gotten that far from my chest.
My heart, maybe.
As we followed the bus for over an hour, it still didn’t lessen.
Then we watched as the kids unloaded in front of the school, and it still ached like a motherfucker.
“Are you crying?” Miller asked.
I shook my head.
“No,” I replied. “But I’m about to. Jesus Christ.”
She turned to me, smiled huge—Viddy’s smile—and started into the school at the teacher’s urging.
She got about two steps past the front door before she froze, turned around, and sprinted to me.
Her frilly little dress that I knew she hated—mostly because she’d told Viddy this morning—trailing behind her.
She got to the curb where my bike was parked and launched herself at me.
Her little arms went around my neck, and her forehead came down on mine while her hands came up to my cheeks.
Her long hair trailed down her back in soft waves, tickling my arms as I wrapped them tightly around her.
“Will you walk me in, daddy?” She whispered to me.
That damn dam burst, and a tear slipped from my eye.
“Goddammit.” I muttered, sweeping my hand over my face. “You’re damn right I’ll walk you in.”
“Mommy said you shouldn’t curse.” Oakley teased.
I snorted, wiped my tear on my cut, and settled her on my hip.
“What mommy doesn’t know, won’t hurt her.” I informed her.
Oakley’s eyes clearly said she didn’t believe me.
“Let’s go. I don’t want to be late.”
So that was how I ended up dropping my little girl off, biker cut on my back, and a girl in a pink frilly dress, clinging to me like I was the best thing in her little world.
“Have a good day, daddy.” Oakley whispered, pressing a kiss to my cheek.
I hugged her tight.
“I will. You, too, baby.” I said gruffly.
She giggled and wiggled to be set down, and I complied. Reluctantly.
“You okay, brother?” Miller asked as we watched Oakley rush to the stupid multicolored rug in the middle of the floor where the teacher was having all the kids sit once they entered the room.
“Yeah,” I said, rubbing my chest as the ache spread. “I think so.”
Miller slapped me on the back, and we turned to head back outside. One brother on one side, and the other brother on the other.
“Thank y’all for coming in,” I said to them.
The moment we got outside, Silas and Sebastian straightened from their lean against their motorcycles.
“I think this calls for a beer!” Kettle growled from the seat of his motorcycle. “My fucking heart hurts.”
I turned to survey the big man, and nodded in agreement.
“Yeah,” as my eyes moved from the men of my MC to my brothers, a smile spread over my face. “I think that sounds really good about right now.”