Page 4 of Maverick

“Hiya, Mav. Want some company?” She rubbed her tits against my chest, making it clear she was down for whatever.

“No.”

She pushed her lips out into a red pout. “I had a lot of fun with you last time and I was hoping we could do it again.”

It was a mistake to stick my dick in Simone even though that’s what she was here for. She was young and hot and always eager for a dicking, but she could be clingy. At the time, I hadn’t given a shit. “We can’t,” I told her. “You know what it was and what it wasn’t, Simone.”

“There’s no reason it can’t be more,” she purred.

“I’m busy right now. Besides, you know how it works, if I want you, I’ll let you know. If I don’t, then I won’t.” I hated being callous, but the girl couldn’t take a fucking hint.

“This isn’t over,” she said, and walked away. She was a club whore and if she stepped too far out of line, she would be out on her tight little ass.

I jumped on my bike and made the ten-minute drive to the mid-size white house with bright red shutters and oversized flowerpots lining the porch where I grew up.

“Grandma!” I called out as I stepped inside the house. The blinds were pulled shut, and it was deadly quiet.

“Back here,” she finally said, and I followed the sound of her voice to the kitchen.

“Hey, beautiful.” I kissed her cheek and wrapped my arms around her short, pudgy frame, squeezing her tight. “I missed you.”

She turned and squeezed me back before she looked up with a smile and pinched my cheek. “I missed you too, my boy. You look good. Handsome, but a little thin. Hungry?”

“Always,” I replied, because no one cooked like Mabel. “Why are all the blinds closed?”

“Because I’m back here and I don’t want anyone peeking into my house.”

It was a reasonable response, but I didn’t buy it. “Grandma, what’s going on? You’re not the only one who can tell when something ain’t right.”

“It’s nothing,” she said, and turned back to the stove. “I’m getting older, that’s all.”

“You’re not old,” I insisted. “You’re as lively as ever.”

She smiled as she brought a plate of steak, onions, and gravy to the table, along with hot mustard, fresh bread, and a big bowl of salad. “I am, but I’m not as fast or as agile as I used to be. Can’t move around as easily and the doctor says I might need help.”

“You have me.” Though the truth was my MC commitments made it harder and harder to take time to look out for her.

“I do have you,” she said, and took a seat at the kitchen table with a smile. “But you have a life, and if I keep you here with me, I’ll never get babies to bounce on my knee before my knee is too old to bounce.”

“Never gonna happen.” I piled a piece of bread with the delicious, juicy meat and bit into it with a groan. “I’ll find you someone I trust to help you out, Grandma. I promise.”

“I don’t wanna be a burden, Dylan.”

“Never that,” I assured her, and took another bite. “So fucking good, Grandma.”

She smiled brightly. “Watch your mouth. You’re not too old for me to wash your mouth out with soap.”

“Sorry,” I said, and flashed an unapologetic smile. “While I’m here, I’ll take a look around and fix some of the things giving you trouble.”

She perked up at that. “That would be wonderful. You can tell me what you and those biker boys have been up to since we last talked.”

“Sounds good.”

I ate until I thought my stomach would burst. Mabel was my whole world. Outside of the MC, she was my only family, and I would do whatever was necessary to keep her happy and safe, and living here in her home.

“Hopefully, there’s a woman keeping you too busy to visit with your dear old grandmother.”

I laughed. “Sorry to disappoint, but there is no girl.” Hadn’t been since my fiancée wrote me a Dear John letter two years into my time with the Marine Corps. After that, I said ‘no thanks’ to any thoughts of settling down, and enjoyed short encounters that lasted anywhere from a couple of days to a couple of weeks.

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