Page 23 of The Other Princess

“I don’t think it will be an easy night, but I think it has to happen in order for everyone to move forward.”

“And you need her to be able to move forward with the club you’re in?” Zeke grumbled.

“Nah, I want her to be okay with everyone, because they’re supposed to be her family, but Ever is the girl you don’t mind walking away from everything for. Worse comes to worse, I’m prepared for that.”

Zeke grinned at me as he rose to his feet, clapped a hand down on my shoulder one good time and squeezed. “Fuckin’ glad to hear you say that, man.” With that, he walked away, and I felt like I had just gotten approval from Ever’s older brother or something. That was definitely an odd feeling considering I actually knew T-Bone, and his opinion wouldn’t have mattered as much. It was then I understood that my feelings toward my club brothers had suffered greatly because of Ever’s ordeal.

She came downstairs a few minutes later wearing jeans, riding boots, a tank top and her leather jacket. It was summer time, and she was going to sweat to death in that if I took her where I had originally planned to. Instead, I changed my plans to accommodate the girl, because as I’d just told Zeke, she was worth it.

~ Ever ~

“Did Zeke leave?”

“Yeah, just a minute ago,” Deck explained as he checked out what I was wearing. I wondered, briefly, if I’d been too presumptuous with my outfit. I just assumed we’d be going somewhere on his bike and I wanted to be prepared for riding. Not that I’d actually been riding on anyone’s bike before. I bought the boots and jacket a few years ago in the hopes that one of the guys would actually take me – back then I was thinking of Jay – but it never happened. My dad told me the only woman who got to ride on his bike was his old lady, of course, the next week my little sister had begged and pleaded her way onto the back of his bike too. So, it must have just been me that wasn’t allowed. My brother told me he’d never have a bitch on back of his ride. The boy of my dreams back then insisted on having each and every one of his girlfriends on the back of his bike, but never me, because that would send the wrong message. Once we were outside all those thoughts of the past faded away, because the excitement of my first ride started to cause a slight tremble in my hands.

“It’s like you read my mind,” he finally said as he reached over to grab something out of the saddlebag. “I brought my bike, so I’m happy to see you had the appropriate things to wear. Though, I don’t know why I’d think you wouldn’t since you grew up in a biker family.” He held a helmet out for me as he spoke.

I just smiled at Deck as I put the helmet on that he had ready for me. Then I proceeded to blow his mind judging by his flabbergasted response to my next question. “I’ve never actually done this before, so where should I put my feet exactly?” I was staring at the bike, thinking maybe they belonged on the tiny little pegs I could see sticking out near the back, but I wasn’t entirely sure. Worse, I felt heartsick that I had to ask this question after being around an MC for eight years. The truth was, I had purposely tried not to watch as I saw other women – the old ladies, daughters, girlfriends, and even club whores – hop on to ride with someone, because I was jealous as hell of them for being allowed to do what I couldn’t.

“What?” Deck finally asked as he managed to close his jaw enough to form the words.

I just stared at him, not sure he actually needed me to repeat myself. “What, what?” I double questioned him back, because I was honestly confused.

“How the hell have you spent all these years in an MC family and you don’t know how to mount a bike or where to put your feet?” His initial astonishment turned to a red-hot anger with each word he spat out of his mouth. Even though I didn’t think that anger was directed at me I flinched back, and glanced at the door to the tattoo studio, suddenly rethinking the idea of spending time with anyone even remotely affiliated with the club.

A deep male chuckle from the car parked behind Deck’s bike caught my attention before I could flee, and there stood Kane, keys in hand, shaking his head in admonishment while exuding an aura of bad ass man in his all black ensemble. His sleeved arms were protruding from the almost too-tight t-shirt he wore. His eyes narrowed on Deck. “You’re honestly surprised she’s never been on the back of a bike before?”

“Fuck yeah, I am.”

“Dude, she wasn’t even sixteen when shit went down with your families. When did you think she was going to do it?”

“Biker kids are on the back of bikes almost from birth, man. That’s something you don’t know shit about,” Deck spit out.

“Yeah?” He questioned then pointed directly at me. “I know that girl there has never been accepted by your fucking sorry ass biker family, and so I wouldn’t think a single one of those fucks would put her on the back of their bikes. Am I wrong sweetheart?”

I saw Deck’s hands curl up into fists at his sides whether because of the “sorry ass biker family” comment or the endearment Kane threw my way I wasn’t sure. Either way the answer to his question remained the same. “You’re right, Kane.” My response was soft spoken, and you’d have to be deaf to miss the note of dejection there.

“Fuck,” Deck hissed out, before relaxing those fists and reaching out to pull me into his body. “I’m so fuckin’ sorry, Ev.” His words were whispered on a warm breath against my ear as he tucked me close to him. I wasn’t sure if the move was one hundred percent genuine, or done to show Kane that I was his. Either way, I just appreciated being wrapped up in his arms in that moment, because seriously, I was about to turn into a total girly-girl and cry. How many more tiny little humiliations could my family continue to put me through without even having to be here to do it?

Ignoring the fact that Kane was still standing there watching us, and waiting to see how I would react Deck squeezed me tighter for a moment and then released me. “Let’s get you on my bike, babe. You’re going to love it, I promise.” With that, we made the effortless transition. He slid his leg over the bike and straddled it in the manliest pose I’ve ever seen. Then he guided my hand – which he still held – to his shoulder and squeezed it down there. “Use me to hold on to, and then throw a leg over. He pointed down to the pipes before I was able to move though. “Avoid touching anywhere around there, because unless the bike’s been sitting a good while they’ll be hotter than hell and will give you a damn good burn.”

“Okay,” I muttered as I swung my leg over. It didn’t feel as though the pipes would be that hot, but then again, he’d been inside for a while too. Before I could ask where to put my feet he was already sliding a hand down my leg, from thigh to shin, then grabbing hold and tucking my foot where it belonged. He repeated the same thing on the other side even though I had already tucked that foot in place. Then he pulled my hands around his waist and tightened his hold a moment. “Don’t let go, babe. Lean with me when we turn, sit close, and become a part of me, a part of the bike, and enjoy the ride.”

When he said those words, “become a part of me,” a tingle went straight down my spine and left my entire body feeling like a hot wire ready to spark and ignite. Then he turned on the bike, and revved the engine beneath us. Holy shit! I’d heard the rumble of the Harleys before, even from up close as my brother pulled near me on occasion. I’d felt the ground tremble beneath my feet a bit, but I never imagined it would feel this alive as you straddled one of these beasts. I didn’t even want to think about what the vibration was doing to my lady parts as it seemed to bring to life the seam of my jeans that pressed tightly, vibrating now with the bike, right against my most sensitive spot. Good lord! No wonder the women around the club were always clambering to get a ride on someone’s bike.

As Deck pulled out of the spot he threw an arm up with a middle finger extended back at Kane. Kane just grinned and tossed me a quick salute, before Deck kicked the bike into a higher gear and jutted out of there, throwing me even closer to him and bringing my attention back to the ride rather than on the man we’d just left behind. I was only wearing a half helmet so I rested my chin on Deck’s right shoulder and enjoyed the wind blowing in my face as we cruised through town at lower speeds. It wasn’t until Deck turned on the highway and kicked the bike into higher gear that I got my first real motorcycle ride experience. The wind seemed to steal my breath momentarily, kicking in my adrenaline reflexively before I managed to tuck my nose down behind Deck’s shoulder. It was such an odd experience I didn’t know, for a moment, whether to be freaked out or elated. Then, I just let go of that brief question in my mind as I breathed in the smell of leather from his kutte, and the smell of summer – like a salt-water breeze – that seemed to cling to Deck no matter what he wore.

The scent of Deck enveloped me just as the higher speeds enthralled me. We blazed past slower traffic, the wind screaming past us as my eyes watered slightly, but I refused to look away from the world as it became our bitch. Everything, from the wind roaring by to the growl of the bike beneath us and the magnificent man I was wrapped around settled deep into my bones that seemed to lift all the weight that I’d had trapped there. It felt freeing. It felt like flying.

The only other experience I could even begin to equate it to was when my mom took me to go horseback riding a couple months before she died. A snake spooked the horse the man put me on when we were trotting through the field, and it took off at a breakneck pace. I just clung on for dear life, while also giggling the entire way. I had felt as if I was flying then too, and this was the closest to that moment as I’d ever gotten to again. My heart fluttered in my chest with the memory just in time for the bike beneath me to begin slowing as Deck turned off the highway and back into a different part of the city.

We weren’t exactly dressed for fine dining, but that apparently wasn’t going to stop Deck from taking me to Gallantry, one of the premier fine dining establishments in Charleston. “How did you manage this? I don’t think I even know a single person who has managed to get in.” The question just flowed from my tongue as I dismounted his Harley on wobbly legs. “Oh my God!” I hissed out as Deck caught hold of my arm to stabilize me while he climbed off his bike seemingly unaffected. “Wow, that was weird,” I offered as he chuckled.

“I forgot to warn you about the jelly-legs your first time riding. It’s been so long since I’ve experienced it, I honestly forgot.” It was my turn to chuckle at his admission. “As far as how I managed this, I happen to be friends with one of the owners, but let’s keep that a secret so everyone and their brother isn’t asking me for an in. I start getting everyone else a table here and I won’t be able to get us one when we want it.”

A warm tingly feeling was set loose on my insides as he made that statement. It was an odd feeling to know one simple word held so much power in my heart. “Us,” I whispered, without realizing I’d done so out loud. Deck just smiled at me.

“Come on, babe, let’s go get some food in you.”

---