Page 21 of Royal Sons MC

“You still with me?” he asked.

“You can’t get rid of me. I’m like a tick on a hound dog’s back,” she joked.

At the side of his bed, he laughed. “I’ll show you hound dog,” he warned, tossing her onto the California King bed. “There’s something I want to show you, something I should’ve explained before.”

Ivy scrambled up, sitting on her knees facing him. “Whatever it is, just say it. Surely, it’s worse in your mind than reality?”

Tymber touched the lamp beside the bed, the soft glow lightening the darkened room. “I should’ve opened the curtains.” He motioned toward the bank of windows across from the bed.

“Quit stalling and tell me. I’m assuming the light is so you can see my reactions?” Ivy bit down on her lip.

“I always was better at showing than telling,” he muttered. His eyes locked on hers. He grabbed the bottom of the T-shirt, pulling it over his head, the material held in front of him. “I, fuck. I had cancer. Breast. I mean, I had breast cancer. I had a partial mastectomy followed by chemo.”

Ivy’s hand covered her mouth. Horror lit her green stare. “Are you okay?”

He tossed the black T-shirt onto the hamper. “Yeah, I’m at the magical five-year mark.” He explained what that meant.

“Your tattoo, did you get it to cover the scars?” She shuffled closer to the edge of the bed.

Tymber turned away, not wanting to see pity on her face. “I already had a tattoo that covered my chest. Once I knew I was going to live, I decided to have plastic surgery to fix the outer package. The meetings helped with the inner package.”

“At the center that night. You were at a cancer survivors meeting?”

He looked over his shoulder, floored to see her standing beside his bed, removing her clothes. “What’re you doing?” he asked, his body immediately reacting to her nudity.

Ivy walked up to him, her naked body perfection to him. “Did you think I would turn away because of that?”

The curtains concealed them inside, but he wanted out. Or at least able to see out. With a press of a button, the blackout curtains parted, giving them a glimpse of the pool beyond. “In all honesty, I didn’t know.” He turned fully toward her.

Ivy jumped at the last second, his arms opening for the little spitfire. “Mmm, I’ve wanted to do that since I first laid eyes on you.” She wiggled around, her legs locked behind his back, her arms around his neck. “So much better than in my fantasies.”

Tymber smiled, unable to stop himself. “You comfy?” The palms of his hands held her ass, the firm globes a perfect fit for him.

She tugged on his hair, almost like he did to her. “Now, where were we? Oh, you thought I was a shallow beotch who couldn’t love you because of your scars or the fact you kicked cancer’s ass? Silly man, I’d love you even if you were a roadmap of scars. We all have scars. Some are outside like yours, but some are inside, like mine.” She pressed her lips over his, keeping whatever he had to say inside. “I’ve not told you my sordid past, not completely. If you found out I used to be a junkie or gave a baby up for adoption, would you think less of me?”

His fingers dug into the flesh nestled in his palms. “Fuck no. Did you?”

“No, but I could’ve. Luke and I were so close, mainly because we’d known each other since we started school. I told him I was in love with him, and we’d be married one day. Of course, he had just beat Tommy Smith up for pulling my pigtails and making me cry. After I pronounced my love and our future, Luke did as only a boy would. He snorted and went off to play. We were inseparable from that moment on, though. Then, in junior high, he told me he loved me and would marry me one day after I punched Sally Belle for breaking his heart. She was such a little whore for real, though. I caught her sucking another dude’s dick, which by the way, was a tiny little peen. When we hit high school, I kissed him. Like, I really kissed him, with tongue and all. We were both stunned that it wasn’t what we’d expected. There wasn’t this big explosion of uncontrollable urges from either of us, but we still tried. Hell, I was naked, and he was only in a pair of boxer briefs. When his dick didn’t even twitch, we agreed we were better off as friends. I’ll admit we fooled around, hoping things would be different, but it wasn’t meant to be. And then, in our junior year, he fell in lust for the first time, and I was his girlfriend for pretend. Then he fell in love. He and I were best friends, and I didn’t mind pretending to be his girl so he could be happy with his boyfriend. Everything was great...that was until I showed up on his doorstep, bleeding.”

Tymber tightened his arms around Ivy. “Why were you bleeding?” he gritted out.

“My stepdad decided it was time I earned my keep. I was sixteen, and ...he assumed I’d been screwing Luke, so why not him. That night, I lost my birth family only to gain another, this one by choice and acceptance. King is a hardass, but there was nobody I trusted more than him and the club. They made sure my mother and her husband left town after Luke kicked the shit out of him. Heck, probably the entire state, or they’d face King. Luke easily kicked the shit out of my stepdad, but they knew that King was ten times worse than him. Trust me, leaving was the better option.” Tears fell from her eyes, memories of that time still painful.

“I’m glad you had them, even though I still want to punch him in the mouth,” he said, only half joking.

“I’m happy you didn’t follow through with that tonight. I know many think an MC is nothing but outlaws and men whose sole purpose is to fuck shit up, but that’s not the truth. The week following my escape from the fucker and my mom, I realized that wearing a patch was more than getting together for shits and giggles. Sure, there was a lot of that, but the MC was a family that banded together no matter what. Not one man looked at the other and thought, ‘How can they help me’ within the club? When you commit to the lifestyle, you’re given a family who looks for ways to help each other. As a whole, they always look to give, never expecting to receive. To many, it may sound idealistic, and yeah, I think there are probably clubs like that, but not the Royal Sons. Not King and his brothers. I literally had the clothes on my back when I became one of them. Women aren’t patched members, but I was still a Royal. I never had to worry if someone would be there to catch me when I fell. They may be psychotic, a little twisted, and a whole lot fucked up, but they’re family. Blood or not, we’re an assortment of individuals banding together, blending as one big fucked up family, but that’s what they were and would always be, family. Royally twisted was what Luke and I called us.”

Tymber let her cry, holding her in his while she sobbed. When she sighed and relaxed in his arms, he carried her back to the bed, tugging the comforter down before easing her inside. “Thank you for sharing your story with me.” He kicked his boots off and unsnapped his jeans, pushing them and his briefs down while holding Ivy’s gaze. “I know how easy it is to look at someone and judge them, making a snap decision about who and what they are. Nobody knows the path that leads them to where they are today. What I do know is you’re more than your past. You see, I saw through the smiles you gave me. I knew there was pain hidden behind the mask you wore and still thought you were the most beautiful woman I’d laid eyes on. You never have to hide from me, Ivy.”

He moved in next to her, pulling a lock of her hair with his hand.

Ivy moved until she straddled his waist, her fingers tracing the scar he’d covered with a new tattoo. The roaring lion was mighty and fierce, a symbol he needed at the time.

“You don’t ever have to hide from me either,” she whispered.

Tymber ran his hands up her legs, his thumbs tracing her outer lips, finding her wet. “I need to be inside you, Ivy.”

She laughed, then shocked him speechless as she bent and kissed his chest, tracing the scar with her tongue. “I want you in me too.” Her ass wiggled while she moved down, his dick trapped between them slid through her folds.

---