Grin and Bear It Read online

  “Makes me want to get sick so I can have her as my nurse,” Link said.

  “She can give me a sponge bath, maybe even throw in a fondle—”

  “Shut the fuck up,” Mason said to Bodhi. “Show some damn respect.”

  Marcus sat on the edge of the bed. “So I heard from your mom you get out the end of the week?” Marcus asked.

  Mason nodded. “Yeah, thank fuck. I’m about done with this bullshit, although I’ll have a lot of physical therapy to do.” The thing was he was glad he’d be getting out of here, but the thought of not seeing Ryeissa again had this tightening taking root in his gut. He pushed thoughts of the female away, because he couldn’t worry about any of that.

  “You look well, man,” Link said.

  Mason shrugged and said, “Thanks.” He didn’t feel like he looked well at all. He had feeling in his legs, could walk with help, but it would still be hard for him to do the shit he’d done before. He just had to make sure he worked hard, although that wasn’t an issue because he had goals in mind, and nothing was going to deviate from them.

  The room was silent for a second, and he scented everyone’s emotions. “Jakob didn’t want to come down?” Mason asked, knowing that the shit that happened between them was deep, but he’d hoped that Jakob would have seen him after the accident. It had been weeks, and his fellow Grizzly brother hadn’t come to see him at all.

  There was some shuffling of feet, some clearing of throats, and then Mason just felt himself pull tighter, about to snap. “What the fuck?” he said to no one in particular.

  “Mason, man, he left town a few weeks back, like right after the accident, to help another charter. We don’t even know when he’s coming back.” Marcus was the one to respond.

  “Does he know about the accident?”

  They all seemed to grunt in answer at the same time.

  “Yet he can’t even call a brother?” Mason scrubbed a hand over his face, feeling his annoyance over the shit that went down with Jakob fading over the fact that even after everything Jakob still didn’t want anything to do with him.

  “I’m sure he’s just swamped. I wouldn’t worry about it.” Gabriel was the one to answer, but no one responded after that. They all knew what the deal was between them, because nothing in the club stayed a secret.

  “It is what it is, and I guess I’m just going to have to fucking face the facts.” And those facts sucked, but he’d brought them on himself.

  Chapter Four

  The knock on his door had Mason sitting up straighter, his bear knowing it was Ryeissa before he even looked toward the doorway and saw her standing there. She had her hair undone from her usual braid, the pin-straight, long, blonde strands hanging over both of her shoulders.

  “Hey there,” she said and smiled. She had her bag slung over her shoulder, as if she were leaving, or maybe just coming in. His bear had her scent ingrained into his lungs, and made sure to memorize it, because something in him, this primal part of himself that he’d never hide, wanted this woman. It might be wrong given their relationship, the fact she was his nurse, but Mason didn’t give a fuck.

  Over these last few weeks of her taking care of him she’d always brushed off his coarse attitude, teased him until he felt that tightness in his body wane, and he couldn’t deny that there was a sexual attraction between them. He’d smelled it come from her on more than one occasion, and that sweet, intoxicating aroma had made his bear push for supremacy, to just use his power to claim her, tell her that she was his.

  He’d never had this type of reaction to a female before, never even wanted to have it, in fact. But the truth remained Ryeissa was genuine, not like the fake bitches that hung out at the club and spread their legs for any Patch. She had this innocence to her, this vulnerability that called out to the male part of him.

  “I just wanted to stop in before my shift and see how you’re doing.”

  He turned on the bed so he could face her. “You’re not my nurse tonight?” He cleared his throat, his animal pacing beneath his skin, itching to get out. He hadn’t shifted in weeks, but shifting with his wounded legs wouldn’t be a good idea anyway. But even still that didn’t mean his bear didn’t want out, didn’t need that freedom.

  “I’ve been called to work the ICU tonight, and tomorrow I’m off.” She stepped further into the room, adjusted the bag on her shoulder, and he scented her uneasiness. She was nervous, not that she was uncomfortable with him, but because she was uncomfortable with how she felt for him.

  “That fucking sucks.” Mason hadn’t meant to say that out loud, but the words were already out in the open. She laughed, and it was a soft, warm sound. His bear was at the surface again, always present when she was around. He’d stopped trying to push the beast back, stopped trying to have his human side reign over the dominant animal.

  “Yeah, it really does suck,” she said and smiled. There was a moment of silence between them, but all he felt was this intense, possessive, and proprietary need for her. It was fucked up because Mason couldn’t be with this woman in any sense of the word. It didn’t have anything to do with the fact she’d seen him at his worst, but because he wasn’t even a full man right now. He couldn’t fucking walk very well without help, and had enough baggage to weigh her down to the bottom of a lake.

  “I know you’re getting discharged tomorrow, so I wanted to see you before you left.”

  He didn’t respond, because what he wanted to say would have probably scared her.

  I want to see you after I’m out of here. I want to touch you, smell your body, lick every inch of you until I have you memorized, imprinted in me.

  His bear pushed forward against that thought. His nails lengthened into claws, his incisors punched out into fangs, and the very animal part of him tried to come forward. But he was stronger than he’d been when he first came here, could control it, if only for a moment. He didn’t want to scare her, and shifting uncontrollably because his beast wanted her, wanted to smell her, drag its tongue over ever dip and hollow of her body, would scare the shit out of her.

  They looked at each other for a moment, and although he wanted to just be a man, have a set of balls, and tell her that he wanted to know more about her, take her out even, he kept his mouth shut. It didn’t matter if he scented her arousal for him, because he also smelled the guilt and resistance she had for those feelings. She didn’t feel it was right to want him, and he couldn’t blame her, couldn’t fault her for not wanting a male like him. She knew a hell of a lot about him, and maybe she’d read shit that had turned her off? Being aroused and wanting someone didn’t mean she had to like it. They were two totally different things.

  “Okay,” she said and moved on her feet a little, shifting back and forth on the tile. “You take care of yourself, Mason, and stay out of trouble.” She added the last part as if trying to keep the conversation going.

  Everything inside of him told him to speak up, quit being a pussy, but he knew he needed to keep his distance. He didn’t need to be with her in any way. She was better than he was, and until he dealt with the shit going on in his life he didn’t need these emotions.

  She smiled again, then turned and left, and what did Mason do? He fucking sat there and watched the only female that had made him feel anything remotely real walk away.

  ****

  Home

  Mason sat at one of the tables in the clubhouse, the guys all around him drinking, smoking, doing lines of coke, or letting the sweet-butts grind their pussies and tits all over them.

  The kids of the Grizzlies and Brothers of Menace were the only ones that were still partying. The Originals had been here earlier, showing their support for him, patting him on the back, and telling him shit would be okay, but until Mason dealt with things it wouldn’t be okay. He could make it out like he had himself under control, but the truth was he felt like he was slipping at the seams, just tearing in two.

  Fuck, he couldn’t even stand up and get himself another damn beer. Alt
hough he was doing better, able to walk with support, he sure as hell wasn’t at the top of his game. He felt like a damn weakling, a loser, and that was shit because he was a feared MC Patch, or he once was. What asshole would be afraid of him now?

  It was all bullshit.

  He grabbed his beer and finished it. Before he could wheel himself over to the bar for another bottle a sweet-butt was walking toward him, swinging her hips back and forth like she was going to throw a hip out of place.

  “Hey, Mason,” she said and placed a cold beer in front of him. He’d had so many already that he was feeling good and drunk, but he still felt like shit.

  He grabbed the beer and tipped it toward her. “Thanks, Juju.” He drank half of it in one go, set the bottle down, and felt the wave of intoxicated pleasure move through him. He wanted to just be so shitfaced he couldn’t even see straight.

  Juju sat down beside him, didn’t speak for a long while, but he was okay with that. He didn’t even want her ass by him, didn’t want anyone by him, but he’d been a dick long enough. If she sat there and kept her mouth shut, didn’t try to jump on his dick, they’d be cool.

  He stared around the room, saw some of the Brothers’ kids standing by the bar speaking to some of the sweet-butts. Gabriel and Maverick, Lucien’s sons, were sandwiching this redheaded sweet-butt. He idly wondered if the brothers tag-teamed the female, but that thought was quickly pushed away because he just didn’t give a shit.

  Marcus was with Corin sitting off to the side, the Brother cupping his old lady’s cheek and saying something to her that had her face turning red. There was this tightening in Mason’s chest as he watched that private act, saw the affection the man had for his woman, and he thought about Ryeissa right then. It had been only a few days since he’d been discharged, but he’d thought about her constantly. He didn’t even know where she lived, but he knew her name, and had ways to find out whatever he wanted about her. He’d even found himself thinking about hitting up Maverick, because the male could find out anything.

  Most of the females that weren’t sweet-butts had been asked to leave, not because they weren’t welcome, but because the type of partying the guys did with the club bitches wasn’t something their sisters or fellow MC females needed to see. But the Patches that had old ladies had kept them close, maybe to assure them they were it for the guys, or to make sure the loose females in the club stayed the fuck back. It was humorous to watch the old ladies with their men, because whether the guys realized it or not, their women held the power.

  Lincoln, Marcus’s brother and Kink’s son, was over by the pool table playing a game with Malice’s sons, Darius and Dakota. Nico, Lucas, and Cain, Jagger’s sons, were all by the dartboard. Lucas and Nico had their old ladies, Alexis and Tarren, close, and the females were kicking the three males’ asses at the game.

  And then there was Ben, Stinger’s son, and Bodhi, Diesel’s son, that were at one of the tables playing poker. Jakob, Bodhi’s brother, was still on the club run, but he was due back either tonight or tomorrow morning, or so Mason had heard. A few prospects were busy doing the bitch work or hanging with the guys, but Mason felt so fucking out of place in his own club.

  And he couldn’t lie and say that it didn’t suck balls that Jakob hadn’t come and seen Mason while he was in the hospital. Although he’d been in another state doing work with another club, Jakob could have called. It hurt, but Mason also knew that things had been bad with them from the beginning, and that Jakob had to have cared about the girl Mason had fucked or he wouldn’t be this upset about it.

  “You feeling okay?” Juju asked.

  “I could be a whole lot better,” Mason replied, his focus on the guys in the club having a good time, their lives not totally fucked up. He was feeling sorry for himself, his anger manifesting into this tyrant inside of him, butting heads with his bear for dominance. He was also being a whiny bitch, but no matter how many times he told himself to toughen up and be a man, he always thought about what he may never do again.

  “You want to go somewhere and talk?” Juju asked.

  He shook his head, because “talking” probably meant “fucking” and he was only thinking about one woman for that.

  Ryeissa.

  Yeah, he had it bad for her, and no amount of distance or time, or telling himself that she was better off without him, could change the fact he was determined to have her.

  “I meant talking, not screwing,” Juju said.

  He looked over at her, and he saw her focus was across the room at the bar. She was either checking out Gabriel or Maverick, but if she wanted them she had to know it was just for a quick lay. Those Menace Brothers didn’t do anything more than the bump and grind.

  Mason didn’t say shit, because he had no room to talk. Here he was thinking about a woman that he wanted, yet hadn’t been man enough to admit that to.

  “Mason, yo,” Link called out and held up a bottle of whiskey. “Come do shots with us.”

  What the hell. He was already wasted, so a few more shots would just quicken the rate of him passing out on his bed.

  He moved away from the table, and although he could have walked over there, it would have been painful, awkward, and taken a hell of a long time. But Mason was trying, never giving up, and sooner rather than later he’d be back to his old self again.

  There was a round of cheers when he was in front of Link and the other guys. The Grizzlies and Brothers moved toward them, and they started passing around a few bottles of whiskey. Before Mason knew it he was so drunk the room spun, and he felt sweat line his temples.

  “Come on, Mason, take me to your room. I know you haven’t had any sweet, tight pussy in a long time.”

  He turned his head, the damn thing feeling a little too heavy to even hold up. Standing beside him was Tiffany, one of the biggest sweet-butts in the club. She’d fucked all the guys ten times over, didn’t care that everyone knew her snatch was loose, and was always eager to get double stuffed at the drop of a hat. She was not the type of female Mason wanted. Even if Ryeissa wasn’t on his mind, Tiffany was a whore in every sense of the word, and not the type of pussy he wanted his dick in. He’d had his fair share of pussy back in the day, but he didn’t just fuck anything with a hole, not like some of the Patches, and since his accident he hadn’t been with anyone.

  “I just need to go to bed,” Mason said to himself more than anything, but before he could wheel himself in that direction Tiffany was behind him and pushing him toward the bathrooms. He was too drunk to stop her or tell her to fuck off. He may be blitzed, but he sure as fuck was coherent enough to know he wasn’t getting his cock out in front of her.

  No fucking way.

  Once in his room he gestured with his hand for her to leave. When she didn’t he looked at her, the room spinning, her image doubling. He tried focusing his vision enough that he could see her straight and focused on sounding like he wasn’t as drunk as he was.

  “Mason, come on, baby.” Tiffany started undoing the buttons on her tight ass shirt, but he started shaking his head, and then felt the world tip from the act.

  “Get the fuck out, Tiffany,” he slurred out. “Even if I wanted to have sex with you, which is a big ‘fuck no’, I have whiskey dick.” Mason wasn’t going to even bring Ryeissa into this conversation, wasn’t going to tell the sweet-butt that his dick was only going to get hard for his former nurse. He wouldn’t taint the thought of Ryeissa by bringing her up in front of this slut.

  “Mason, come on. You know I can get your dick hard, know that a little limp cock isn’t a problem where my mouth is concerned.” She moved an inch closer, but he was done with this shit.

  Mason shifted the chair around so his back was to her, braced his hands on the armrests, and pushed himself up. Being drunk he probably shouldn’t have tried to clear the space between the door and bed, but he couldn’t just sit there and let the bitch grope him. He started walking, albeit sloppily because of how intoxicated he was, and braced a hand on the wa
ll to steady himself. When he was sober it was slow going in trying to walk, but being wasted made it like he was trudging through water, thick damn water that suffocated him.

  He moved toward the bed, hating that there was still pain in his legs despite the time that had passed and the amount of alcohol he’d consumed. He got to the bed and collapsed, not even giving a shit. “Get the fuck out of my room, Tiffany,” Mason said, his face in the comforter, the words muffled. Sleep was coming on fast, and his limbs felt like they were full of lead. He felt Tiffany touch him, run her finger along his spine, and he rolled over, pushing her away. “Get the fuck out, bitch,” he said with his eyes closed. “I don’t want your loose fucking pussy. Take the hint.”

  Maybe on another day, another time, he might not have been such a dick, but she wasn’t leaving, and in fact being a little too persistent in this shit. He didn’t want anything to do with her, never had, and never would.

  She glared at him, and although he had to squint, had to focus his vision, he could see he’d pissed her off. Good.

  “You know what, you’re nothing but a washed-up crippled biker. The club isn’t going to want anything to do with your broken ass.” She turned and walked toward the door.

  “And the only thing the club wants from you is your loose ass pussy, well, aside from me.” He grinned, although her words had hit him deep. Fuck that, he wouldn’t show her that what she’d said affected him. He flipped her off for good measure.

  She huffed out and left, and Mason lay back on the bed and closed his eyes. He was fucking broken, but he wouldn’t let that bring him down, and he wouldn’t be a wash out. He’d rise again, grit this bullshit, and let his bear come forward to help heal even further. When he was back to himself, could beat a motherfucker, he’d go after the pricks that put him here. And once that was done he’d tell Ryeissa that he wanted her.

  Fucking hell did he want her.

  Nothing would stop him from going after what he deserved, not even himself.