"Hey man."
Bobby walked into the garage and popped the hood of the Beetle standing next to the car Tig was working on. Juice had re-painted the awful daisy on the back. But the longer he looked at it, the more it reminded him of her and the less ridiculous he found the fucking flower. He was disgusted with himself.
Tig nodded in his direction and grunted a response.
"What's the fuck's eating at you? You're being emo."
"Christ, what?"
Bobby straightened to explain. "Prospect's reckon you're emo. Emotional. Unbalanced. Bothered."
"I get it."
Bobby continued. "Distracted. Sulky. Moody. A fucking pain in the god damn nuts. Just ask Juice."
"I get it. I get it!" He felt his temper rise. He slammed the oil filter he'd been fitting down. "God dammit!"
Bobby raised his brow but didn't say anything.
Tig pushed his hair out of his face. He needed a fucking shrink. Bobby would have to do. "What would you do if you had the world's best fucking sex? Like ever. I'm talking sex like you've never had it before. Pussy custom made just for your dick."
"Have more of it." Tig's expression said that wasn't the answer he was looking for. "It's a simple question," Bobby continued, "with a real simple answer. If the pussy's good, have more of the pussy."
"What if the pussy belongs to a real great lady? A woman who doesn't deserve to have her pussy raided by a sonofabitch?"
"I'd say the owner of the pussy needs to make her own decision." Bobby walked over to Tig and clapped him on the shoulder. "You've fucked whores Tigger, and you know your way around women. But you know shit about ladies. There's a huge fucking difference."
"Jesus." He knew Bobby was getting ready to preach.
"Rule number one. Whore pussy aint the same as lady pussy. Completely different ballgame. Whore pussy you fuck and move on. Lady pussy you fuck and woo."
"Christ." He was ashamed to admit he was intrigued.
"Rule number two. Lady pussy comes with strings and attachments. You don't want that, stay away from lady pussy and stick to the bloody whores."
"What's rule number three?" He couldn't help himself.
"Never disappear on lady pussy. Whores don't care. If you disappear on lady pussy, it's only cos you aint interested. Lady pussy is sensitive pussy."
"Jesus Christ." The words came together.
"Lady pussy is the makings of an Old Lady. Don't want one, don't fuck ladies."
"Too fucking late," Tig whispered, disgusted.
Bobby turned to walk away. "By the way, Morena's coming in to pick up the Beetle. Paperwork's in the office. See that she's happy…" he gave him a look, "with the job." One more clap on the back and Bobby moved across the lot.
"Fuck." He'd gone and fucked a lady, disappeared on the lady and now he had to face the lady. He'd broken all the rules. The irony was that it wasn't like he wanted to be rid of her. Jesus, she just deserves better.
Bobby was right. He had no place fucking lady pussy. The whores were his field of expertise. Better to end it with Morena than just create expectations of where this was going. It was one night. It was a mistake. The best fucking mistake I've ever made.
By 5pm, the lot was all but abandoned. Morena hadn't arrived and Tig had changed out of his overalls. He didn't know if he was disappointed or relieved. He guessed disappointment won out in the end. Even if it couldn't work between them, he would have liked to see her.
Clay's hands had been acting up again so Gemma had taken him home. Jax and Opie went home to their kids and Old Ladies, the rest of the sons headed out to Caracara for party and pussy. I should be with them. Instead he had volunteered to close up shop.
He entered the clubhouse and went over to the bar, pouring himself a shot. Empty, the space had a different feel. Without the usual low hanging smoke, half naked croweater's and loud, raucous talking, laughing and brawling, the place almost lost its charm.
There was a knock at the door. Surprised, he saw Morena walk into the room. He had a feeling she was about to call out when she spotted him behind the bar.
Her hair was tied up in a ponytail. His hands itched to free it. He realised he hated her hair any way but down. She wore hospital scrubs, the kind Tara often wore. They were loose and baggy, making her look tiny in return. He wanted them off.
"I'm looking for Bobby. He called to say my car is ready. Phil let me in. Said to tell you the gates are closed."
She didn't offer any pleasantries. Tig couldn't help himself. He needed to touch her.
He started towards her, stalking, of single minded purpose. It took her a minute to realise his intent but it was too late.
"Tig-" she warned, her hands coming up to try and evade him. She took four steps back and was against the wall, the door to her left. Morena made a move towards it but it was useless. He'd reached her, grabbed her waist with one hand, cupped the back of her neck with the other, pulled her against him and proceeded to devour her mouth.
Tig felt her tense for a second before the staving hands wound their way around his neck and crushed him even closer. He pushed her against the wall and her legs parted, hooking around his hips, his hand on her neck moving to free her hair.
His hips pinned her, his hands roamed everywhere. Her skin, soft and smelling of citrus made him want to lick every inch of her.
"I'm sorry," he whispered between feverish kisses. She didn't answer, but the way she angled her head to receive his tongue told him he was temporarily forgiven.
He set her down for a minute and stripped off her panties and bottoms with one hand. His other found her clit and stroked, slipping his fingers inside. She was teeming, his fingers slick. She arched against his hand, reaching between them to free his dick. When she touched him, he bit into her shoulder. He was rock hard, hot and ready.
His trousers dropped, her legs wrapped around him, he plunged into her. He absorbed her scream with is mouth, mimicking the parry and retreat he was doing below with his tongue above.
With every wild thrust, she matched him, her hands touching everywhere she was able to, but always returning to his hair. Pulling, squeezing, stroking. He pumped furiously, the wet sounds of their bodies sliding together, slapping together driving them higher until they climaxed simultaneously. Christ. That had never happened to him before.
They stood that way for a while, breathing hard. His body was still connected to hers, her legs hooked at his hips, his hands cradling her ass, while hers wrapped around his shoulders.
He lifted his head and looked at her. She opened her eyes.
His gut flooded with unexpected emotion. He didn't have the words, so he kissed her softly and shuffled over to the couch. This was harder than it seemed, especially with his jeans at his ankles.
They dropped down and Morena laughed when he landed on top of her, his dick hardening inside of her.
"Hiya stranger," was all she said as she pushed her pelvis against his, gently stroking the hair from his eyes.
Tig stared at her, trying to find some hidden secret. Eventually he just said, "dammit darlin'. You're beautiful."
She reached for him, pressing her mouth to his. He swore he saw tears fill her eyes. "So are you."
He almost believed her.