Page 10

BOND

It had been a week since the night that Rochelle had woken me up with her mouth on my cock. While it had been a surprise, it had been a welcome one.

Not once had we gone to bed since then without making love, and I made sure she came every time. For someone who had been married as long as she had been, she was pretty innocent when it came to sex, and I had a feeling that was all down to her fuckhead of a husband. It seemed that as long as he got off, he didn’t give a shit about her. Somehow, I wasn’t surprised, not with the way he’d treated her out of the bedroom. Although she’d assured me that the one thing he didn’t do was force her, I was still careful because he certainly hadn’t made sex good for her. I’d make sure from now on it would only ever be good.

We’d slipped into a comfortable routine, the three of us. Rochelle still wasn’t comfortable letting Daisy out of her sight. Not that having her with us at work was a hardship. I loved having my girls with me twenty-four seven. There had been a big uptick in our orders since Rochelle had taken over. It seemed our customers liked talking to someone with her experience. I’d been surprised that not only did she know her spare parts, she also knew a lot about fitting them. It wasn’t long before I was having to put another order in with our new suppliers.

But this weekend was our moving weekend. We’d had to put it off for a little while because Noni had decided that the cottage needed to be painted, even though Rochelle had told her she was happy with it as it was.

Noni wasn’t having it. She’d insisted that as we were going to be living there for longer than a few weeks, it gets redone. Rochelle didn’t realise that Noni was having the spare bedroom painted and kitted out as a nursery for Daisy.

“That’s the last one,” I call out to Rochelle, who was in the bathroom packing up, taping up the last box and stacking it near the door.

“Are you finished in there, baby?”

“Yep,” Rochelle replies, walking out with a box in her arms, blowing the curls that had fallen from her bandana out of her face with a huff of frustration. “Ugh,” she mutters.

Laughing, I pinched her curl with my fingers and tucked it back under her bandana. “There you go, baby,” I tell her, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“Hey, hope you two are decent,” Cairo calls out, knocking on the door jamb and walking in with his hand over his eyes.

Rolling my eyes at Rochelle, I ask her, “Does he really think we’d be fucking with the door open?”

Snort-laughing, she falls against me. “Knowing you lot, probably. And don’t call it fucking,” she slaps my chest. “It’s more than fucking; trust me, I now know the difference.”

A rumble left me, and I scowled. I knew she was joking, but I hated that she knew that. A soft hand cupped my cheek, drawing my attention back to her, “Love you, Bond. Stop scowling. While I know the difference, it doesn’t mean that I won’t want you to fuck me at some point.”

Cairo laughed out loud, slapping my shoulder, amusement clear in his tone when he said, “That tells you, brother. Now come on, let’s get this loaded and you three into your new home.”

Rochelle laughed along with Cairo, not in the least bit embarrassed at having just discussed our sex life in front of one of my brothers. I guess she really was settling in. Reaching for one of the boxes, I direct her, “Grab our girl, Roch; I’ll help Cairo get this loaded.”

“I’ll be back just now, and I’ll help,” she responds to me, walking towards the bed with a length of colourful material in her hands. Cairo and I watched as she made short work of getting Daisy tucked up and situated on her back snug in the colourful material. I’d seen modern wraps used the same way in the UK, but it always amazed me to see it done in the original way and that the babies always seemed perfectly content all snuggled up like that.

Rochelle looked up from making sure the material was tied tight between her breasts to catch us watching her. Clapping her hands, she ordered, “Well, chop, chop, let’s get this lot loaded,” before grabbing a box and carrying it to the luggage cart that Cairo had brought with him.

Cairo opened his eyes wide at me, nodding his head at Roch as if to say, ‘ Are you going to let her carry shit?’

“Trust me, brother, it’s not worth the argument. Just try and get as many boxes as you can before her. The woman is as stubborn as the day is long and used to doing shit on her own,” I inform him, picking up two boxes and following Rochelle out with them.

Cairo and I made quick work loading the boxes without trying to make it obvious that we didn’t want Roch picking them up. But my woman wasn’t an idiot. Narrowing her eyes at me as we loaded the last box, I closed the bedroom door behind me, both of us panting slightly.

“You two are ridiculous,” she grouses, but she did it with a smile on her face. “I’m perfectly capable of helping.”

“We know, little sister, but just because you can doesn’t mean you have to when you have us to do it for you,” Cairo smiles at her as he tucked the shirt he’d taken off earlier in the pocket of his shorts, his dark chest gleaming a little with the sweat we’d worked up loading the boxes. Making me hate him just a little bit, even though he wasn’t trying to get Roch’s attention. It was just who he was. He hated wearing shirts unless he had to, saying the seams bothered him. Not that Roch appeared to even notice.

“Fine,” she huffs, “but that means as a thank you, you have to let me cook for you at least once this week instead of eating at the hotel.”

Cairo’s eyes light up at the mention of a home-cooked meal. The food we got at the restaurant was amazing, but we all missed the meals that Maggie had cooked for us. There was nothing like a home-cooked meal. “And pudding,” he pleads.

Roch laughed but nodded, “And pudding,” she agrees.

“Deal,” Cairo tells her, “now let’s get this stuff to your new place and get you unpacked. Noni is planning a barbeque for us tonight.”

“Braai,” Rochelle corrects.

“What?” Cairo and I look at each other a little confused.

“If you all are going to live here, then you have to know we don’t barbecue, we braai; you’ll have to get used to it. I suppose you haven’t had our local maize meal and gravy either?” Then she waves her hand, dismissing our answer, and walks towards the door. “Don’t worry, Grace and I’ll sort that out.”

Shrugging, I pushed the trolley as Cairo pulled it, following a muttering Rochelle, who seemed to think that we were missing out on a local delicacy.

I loved that she was comfortable enough to start being herself around my brothers. Rochelle was not a shrinking violet, and I had a feeling that she’d only get more confident as time went by. I, for one, loved her feisty side.

It didn’t take long to traverse the path towards the houses at the back of the hotel. They were separated from the hotel by a wall and a locked gate that stopped guests from wandering onto private property. I was surprised to see Rochelle stop by Grace and hand her Daisy, but her hands were going a mile a minute, and Grace was laughing with her.

Rochelle’s eyes were sparkling a little, and a wide smile graced her face when we drew even with her, “Grace is going to keep Daisy for a little bit; I’ll come and get her as soon as we’ve unloaded.”

“Okay, baby. Give us a shout if you need us, Grace,” I tell her.

“Don’t worry, Uncle Bond,” Roman states, coming up next to me, with a panting Rosie following him. The siblings were never far from each other. “Rosie and I’ll help Grace.”

“Thanks, Ro,” I answer, holding my fist out to him for a fist bump before ruffling Rosie’s hair.

Leaving the kids in good hands, we continue past Bull and Rogue’s homes to the two-bedroom cottage behind them, coming to a stop at the steps of the small veranda. I hear Roch exclaim tearfully, “Oh, Noni. Thank you.”

Cairo’s gaze meets mine over the boxes, and he nods towards the house, “Best you get in there, brother. The rest are on their way, and they can help me unload.”

Leaving him to it, I bounded into the house and went straight to the nursery, coming to a stop when I saw Roch wrapped in Noni’s arms, Julia rubbing her back, and Josie looking on almost as tearful as Roch. Looking around, I see what’s caused the tears.

Daisy’s bedroom.

It's beautiful; painted a bright white with pink trim around the top and bottom. On the one wall is a large daisy with smaller daisies blowing away in the breeze. On the other wall, there’s a bank of photos of all of us from the Crow MC, including the UK chapter. But pride of place is a picture of Rochelle, her dad, and Daisy from the day Daisy had been born. I’m not sure how Noni had got hold of it, but I’d guess that Skinny had something to do with it. Next to that one is a framed photo that I know had only been taken a few days ago of Roch, Daisy, and me. We’d been standing on the steps of the hotel, Rochelle holding Daisy in her cute floppy hat and me behind them, arms wrapped around them both. Josie had insisted on the photo, and now I knew why. I fucking loved it. It showed nothing but happiness on all our faces. Noni and the ladies had also furnished the nursery with a pretty white cot that had draped mosquito netting, making it look like a princess cot. There was a matching changing table, chest of drawers, and wardrobe.

“Thank you,” I mouth at them all.

Rochelle turned her head as I stepped further into the room, “Did you know?”

I shake my head, “I knew Noni was painting the nursery, but no, I didn’t know the ladies did all this, but I’m not surprised, though; it’s the sort of thing the Crow ladies are known for.”

“It’s beautiful,” Rochelle sputters tearfully, going to each of them and hugging them, and saying thanks before she ended up back next to me. “I can’t thank you all enough. I’ve never had this. You can’t know what it means to me.”

“You’re welcome, Rochelle,” Julia smiles at her, reaching for her hand, and she gives it a little squeeze. “You’re a Crow now, and that means you no longer have to do everything alone. We’ve got you.”

“I’m starting to understand that,” Rochelle assures Julia as she looks around the nursery one more time, wiping the tears from her cheeks as she pulls herself together.

“Come on, let’s get unpacked so that I can cook a few things for tonight. You can’t call yourselves Zambian if you’ve never eaten any of the local food,” she informs us.

“As long as it’s not grubs,” Julia shudders.

“But they’re so good for you,” Josie teases laughingly. “Full of protein.”

“Eww, no grubs,” Rochelle assures Julia, “although I do think you should try fried flying ants; they’re delicious.”

Julia goes green at the thought of eating the winged insects and holds up her palm, “I’m good,” she declares.

Laughing, we left the bedroom. It didn’t take long to unpack, as neither Roch nor I had much. Before long, we were settled in. Everybody had left, and Daisy was fed and down for a nap. Finding Rochelle in the kitchen, I picked her up and tossed her laughing over my shoulder.

“Time to christen our new bed,” I inform her, slapping her gently on the arse as I walked down the short hallway towards our room, where I tossed her gently down on the mattress.

She bounced and laughed as her bandana flew off and her curls cascaded over the dark blue bedding. Toeing my shoes off, I followed her down, my mouth taking hers in a hard kiss, and I proceeded to show her that I do know the difference between fucking and making love.

We’re both smiling and panting by the time we’re finished.

Rochelle angled her head to look at me and states, “I’m loving being a Crow. Thank you, Bond.”

Smiling, I tucked a curl behind her ear, “No thanks necessary, baby. I’m glad you’re happy.” Pressing my lips to hers, I rolled on my back, taking her with me.

“Ride me, baby.”

“With pleasure,” she replies, taking hold of my cock and sinking down onto me. It’s a little while before we get back to finishing putting away the last few bits we had left to unpack and start cooking for this evening.

I’m still smiling hours later as we’re eating, and Rochelle and Grace insist that we try what they call ‘nshima.’ We all do to appease them, some liking it more than others.

I don’t mind it. It’s filling for sure, but it definitely needs the gravy that they made to go with it. They were both horrified when they realised we’d never eaten a local sausage called boerewors either. Noni was laughing at them; having lived here longer than us, she’d tried it all and was happily tucking into the ‘nshima’ and gravy.

“I’ll order some for the next braai,” she assures them with a grin.

“Oh, thank the Lord,” Grace replies, “because there is no way I can make that.”

“Yeah, me either,” Rochelle agrees with a smile as she looks around the table set up in Noni and Bull’s garden. “This has been fun, though. Thank you all so much for everything today.”

“You’re welcome,” Bull assures her.

Dinner over, we moved to the fire pit we’d put in between the two main houses. Some things don’t change, no matter the country. And it may be hot as balls out here at the moment, but there was just something about sitting around a fire and shooting the shit with your brothers and their women.

Rochelle walked out of our house and handed out the beers she’d picked up when she’d gone to check on Daisy, who we’d put down earlier in her new cot. Daisy hadn’t seemed at all bothered by being in a new room and had fallen right asleep.

All the houses had screen doors to keep the mosquitoes out. We left the main doors open to hear the kids in case they woke up while we were outside.

Snagging Rochelle’s hand as she walked past, I tugged her into my lap, where she snuggled up with a happy sigh.

“Thank you,” she says, taking the cup of tea that Julia handed her. I looked around the fire and couldn’t help but think that just a couple of weeks ago, when the Crows from the UK were here for Christmas, I’d been so envious when I’d seen them with their ladies on their laps, at the time thinking I’d never have that. Not when the woman I wanted belonged to another. And now, with Rochelle on my lap and our daughter sleeping, I gave thanks to whoever had decided that I was worth having them in my life.