by Hart, Lane
“Hell yes,” I say without any hesitation. Before Sasha and I got together, I slept with a handful of the girls that hang around the Savage Asylum, the bar that also houses the Savage Kings MC’s clubhouse. Those women will fuck anything in leather, even prospects like me, still trying to patch in. I haven’t touched a single one of them since Sasha and I started seeing each other six months ago. There isn’t a girl in that clubhouse that can turn my head. I’m so certain of what we have that I tell Sasha, “Let’s do it. Let’s get married tonight. We could fly to Vegas...”
“My parents would never—” she starts to say, but my lips crashing down on hers puts a stop to her words.
When I pull back, I look her in the eyes to let her know I’m dead serious. “Fuck what your parents think. Marry me, and then we’ll get our own place and they won’t be able to say shit about what we do.”
Sasha studies my face for several long seconds, judging my sincerity while I hold my breath. Finally, she says, “Okay.”
“Okay?” I repeat with a grin of relief.
“Yes. Oh my god, yes! Why are we still standing here?” she asks excitedly before she slips out of my arms. Sasha strides over to my bike in her sexy strappy heels and white dress. It’s way too short for riding on the back of a Harley, which is exactly why I fucking love it. She throws one of her mile-long legs over the seat and then leans forward to grip the handlebars, pushing her amazing ass out and causing her full, perfect tits to nearly spill out of the top of the material.
“Hop on the back. I’ll drive us to the airport,” Sasha jokes.
“Goddamn, you are so fucking sexy sitting on my Fat Boy,” I tell her. Unable to resist getting a photo of her looking like the pin-up girl from every man’s wet dream, I pull out my cell phone from my pocket and snap a picture.
After I put my phone away, I go over and climb on behind her. Smoothing my hands up both of her sides, I whisper to her, “This is where you fucking belong. Your fine ass was made to sit on my bike.” I bury my nose in her long, blonde hair that’s lightly blowing in the coastal winds, unable to get enough of her sweet apple scent before my lips go to her neck right below her ear. It’s the one spot on her body that I know from months of experience will make her go limp and instantly wet. Sure enough, Sasha shivers and then leans back against my chest, putty in my hands. Fuck, I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of her. My cock is so hard that riding will be damn near impossible.
“I want you so much, right here, right now. I can’t wait a second longer,” I whisper in her ear, fucking desperate for her. “If I lift your dress and lower you down onto my cock, you could ride it just like this, and no one would be able to see me buried deep inside of you.”
“Chase,” Sasha moans my name, making my dick swell even more against the fly of my jeans. “Someone could see us.”
“Let them watch. I don’t give a fuck, because this is all mine,” I tell Sasha as I ease my hand underneath the front hem of her dress and cup her pussy through her lacy thong.
I know my girl better than anyone, and the thought of someone catching us is turning her on even more. She’s been a good girl for the last seventeen years, so she still likes to pretend she’s good when, deep down, she’s really fucking naughty.
And despite what her parents think, I wasn’t a bad influence on her.
“Chase, please,” Sasha begs when she squirms against my hand that hasn’t moved the way she wants yet. As she rocks her hips, her ass bumps right against the bulge in the front of my jeans that’s pressing into her bottom and making me fucking crazy.
“You’re gonna come on my fingers, and then I’m gonna fuck you right here,” I warn her as I slip my fingers underneath the seam of her panties and penetrate her with just the tip of one.
“Ohhh God,” she moans as she throws her head back on my shoulder, then covers my hand with her own to force me to go deeper inside of her.
My lips come down on her neck again as my fingers start pumping in and out of her already dripping wet pussy. Her walls clamp down on them, and then her entire body shudders as her orgasm slams into her that damn fast for me.
I don’t even give her a chance to recover before I remove my hand from her panties and start undoing my jeans as quick as my shaking hands can go, unable to wait another second to be inside of her.
“Hold those handlebars for me, sweetheart,” I tell Sasha, who is still panting when she follows my order. Grasping her hip to hold it steady, I fist my cock with the other hand to line up and slam inside of her pussy so hard, she cries out.
“Oh, God, Chase!” she moans. Looking at me over her shoulder, Sasha says, “You feel so good.”
“Fuck, yes, baby. Ride me just like that,” I tell her. She’s hot, tight, and wet. So goddamn perfect that I know I won’t last long.
My hands grip both of her hips through her dress, tight enough to leave bruises as I slam her down on my cock, over and over again.
Reaching up, I gather her hair in a ponytail and give it a harsh tug to turn her face to the side so I can kiss her. “I love you…so fucking much,” I tell her against her lips.
“I love you too…ohhh!” she shouts as she comes again, clenching tightly around my cock, forcing me to follow.
As we both catch our breath and come back down from the clouds together, I kiss her neck and down to her shoulder.
Having Sasha in my arms tonight is so goddamn perfect. Knowing she’s agreed to be mine forever makes me fucking euphoric, except…for whatever reason, that happiness is accompanied by something else. My guts are knotting up with fear or…or panic. I’ve never loved anyone this much before, and it’s fucking terrifying worrying about screwing everything up with her.
Are we rushing things? I know I’m ready to marry Sasha, but we’re both still young. What if I’m pushing her into something that she’ll later regret? We both still have a year of high school left, and then she wants to go to college and study journalism. I’d never try to hold her back on purpose, but what if, by marrying her, she gives up on her dreams to be with me instead?
“Are you sure you want to be my old lady?” I ask her into the silence. “You know I won’t ever walk away from the MC, and you want to go to college…”
“I want you more,” she says, as she reaches behind her to run her fingers through my hair. “And who said I couldn’t have you and a degree?”
Still unconvinced, I tell her, “It may not always be easy for us. I’ll probably piss you off. There's a reason everyone thinks I'm an asshole.”
“We’ll have good times and bad,” she agrees. “But I love every part of you, even the MC and asshole pieces. They’re what make you who you are, Chase.”
This.
This is why I fucking love this woman so goddamn much. I don’t know why the hell I’m even second-guessing her. She’s all-in, right there with me. And unlike some old ladies, she would never ask me to walk away from the club. She knows how important wearing the Savage Kings patch one day soon is to me.
Bringing her face to mine, I kiss the shit out of her until we both have to pull away for oxygen.
“Okay,” I say, pushing aside all of those ridiculous doubts or worries, whatever the hell they are. Nothing will change how I feel about Sasha. Ever.
“To the airport?” Sasha asks me when I climb off the back of my bike.
Reaching for her helmet from the handlebar, I kiss the top of her golden head before I put it on her. “Fuck yes,” I agree, while fastening her chin strap.
Once her helmet is good and secure, I grab mine and get it in place while Sasha scoots backward to her seat, and I take my place in the front.
“You ready, sweetheart?” I ask, cranking the engine.
“Always,” Sasha says. Her words and her arms tightening around my waist so close that the front of her body is flush against my back lets me know she’s ready to ride with me—not just today, but every fucking day for the rest of our lives. She trusts me to take care of her and keep her safe.
I may have been a bastard before we met, but she makes me softer because I want to be good to her, good for her.
But deep down, I’ve always known that what her parents say about me is true—she deserves better than me, and one of these days, I’m probably gonna hurt her beyond repair.
We’ve stopped for a moment at an intersection, so I reach back to pat her leg reassuringly. Just touching her helps clear the morbid thoughts from my mind.
As the light turns green and the car in front of us clears the intersection, I drop my Fat Boy into gear and ease the throttle, smiling as Sasha reflexively tightens her grip.
The sudden screeching of tires drowns out the roar of my engine. I catch a brief glance of headlights to my right, just before I’m launched into the air.
The next few seconds seem to stretch out endlessly as my body is hurled across the highway. I spin helplessly, briefly blinded by the headlamp on my Harley as my bike’s shattered frame twists and sparks across the pavement beneath me. Before I can scream out for Sasha, gravity snatches me back, slamming me into the weedy ditch at the side of the road.
…
A piercing light shines directly into my eyes. When the light disappears, I’m finally able to make out the face, one of a man I’ve never seen before, hovering over me just inches away in the darkness.
“Who…who the fuck …wh-what the hell…happened?” I gasp. I try to force myself to sit up, but fall back as a nauseating wave of vertigo washes over me.
“You had a wreck,” the stranger’s voice tells me slowly. “Try not to move. We’re gonna get you to the hospital.”
Wreck? Hospital?
My eyes squint as I try to put the world back into focus to figure out what the fuck’s happening. The last thing I remember is sitting in the tattoo chair with Sasha beside me, then we were outside the shop on my bike…
Oh, fuck!
“Sasha?” I shout in a panic as I struggle to try and sit up again. The asshole with the light pushes my shoulders back down. To hell with him. I shove him out of the way as I sit up again and see the colorful lights of ambulances, firetrucks, and police cars surrounding us.
Then I spot her; Sasha’s body is strapped down on a gurney that’s being rushed towards an ambulance.
“SASHA!” I scream louder and wait for her to answer me, to tell me that she’s okay, but she doesn’t make a sound.
Chapter Fourteen
2012
I startle awake, covered in sweat, my hand throbbing from the punch I slammed into the concrete wall of my jail cell. “She’s gone!” is my first panicked thought, before the full realization and recollection of where I am returns to me.
“You all right over there?” Abe whispers in the darkness. “You were yelling again in your sleep.”
“Sorry,” I grunt. “I have nightmares. This place will do that to you after a while.” Technically, I’m sure that’s true, although I’ve never had any regrets or misgivings about my time in prison. Beating that filthy fucking bastard half to death was a necessity, and I’ll serve my time gladly knowing he paid his pound of flesh.
I can’t get back to sleep, partly because of the nightmare but mostly because I spend a lot of time every day napping. There isn’t much else to do in this place, and every time I try to read one of the tattered books they have available, I invariably start to doze. I’ll probably be accused of being all manner of things over the course of my life, but a scholar won’t be on the list.
Once our morning roll call is over, the day settles into the same old familiar pattern. Abe has been restless lately. He wanders around the common room occasionally, but invariably ends up stomping back into our cell and collapsing back on his bunk. I don’t blame him, I did that a lot too, the first few weeks after I arrived, constantly searching for something new or anything to do to pass the time.
I think it’s getting close to our dinner time when a guard enters our cell. I get to my feet, expecting it to be an inspection or something equally mundane. “You both have visitors,” the guard announces. “Follow me.”
Abe looks at me questioningly. “I’ve been telling my brothers about you and they wanted to come say hello,” I say, waving for him to walk ahead of me. “Let’s go see who’s here.”
Once we’re cleared and allowed to enter the visitation room, I immediately spot Deacon and Rubin sitting at a table off in the far corner of the room. I slap Abe on the arm and take the lead, weaving through the jumble of tables where other inmates are visiting with their families. Guards posted around the room keep a wary eye on us, particularly Abe, as we pass.
As I get closer to their table, my smile falters a bit when I notice something off about Deacon. I can’t quite place it at first, but as we get to the table, I’m able to make out the thin line of tubing running from his nostrils to a small pack I hadn’t been able to see on his back. The old man is wearing a fucking oxygen tank. He hasn’t been to visit in a while and I thought he was just busy. Now, I’m starting to think something else has been going on with him that he hasn’t told me about over the phone...
Deacon and Rubin both get up, coming around to wrap me up in a hug before stepping back and turning to Abe. “This the one you’ve been telling me about?” Deacon says, wheezing a little bit before he sits back down.
“This is him,” I confirm. “Abraham Cross, this is Deacon Fury, President of the Savage Kings MC, and Rubin Brady, his Vice President. Hell of a royal welcome, all around.”
“It’s good to meet you two,” Abe says as he shakes both of their hands.
We all sit down at the table, but before we can get down to any sort of business, I have to find out what happened to Deacon. “What’s going on with that?” I ask my uncle, pointing at his face.
“Hell boy, you ain’t been gone that long.” Rubin laughs. “He ain’t no uglier than he was when you got here.”
“You know what I’m talking about,” I press him. “Don’t try to hide shit from me while I’m here, that isn’t how we operate.”
“He’s right, Rubin.” Deacon sighs. “I’ll give it to you straight, brother. I’ve smoked since I was old enough to remember. You combine that with all the other questionable decisions I’ve made, and it adds up to cancer every time.”
“Cancer? Shit!” I exclaim in shock. “You got the oxygen tank, so you must have seen a doctor. How bad is it?” I ask him, dreading the answer.
Deacon glances down at the table for a moment, then says, “It’s bad. Started in my lungs, but now…ain’t no surgery for this, Chase. I’m scheduled to start some chemotherapy to try and slow it down, but…” He trails off, then directs his attention to Abe. “Fact is,” Deacon continues, “every one of us that lives has to pay the same bill eventually. It ain’t worth crying over, and it ain’t worth dwelling on. You can pour one out for me if you want, when I’m gone. For now, though, I want to talk to this fellow and ask him what manner of silly shit you filled his head with to make him want to sign on with us.”
Abe cracks a grin, then leans over the table. He tells them all about what happened the first day he got here, and then goes into his background, recounting the things he’s told me about his youth.
“That’s it,” Abe concludes after only a few minutes. “Same story I’m sure you guys have heard a dozen times from fellows who are interested in finding a family. After the way this one has treated me”—Abe raises one of his huge craggy hands to slap me on the shoulder—“I couldn’t help but feel like you all might be just the thing I’ve hoped to find for me and my little brother.”
“So, you’re going to get released just a few weeks after Chase?” Rubin asks.
“Yes, sir. Long as I keep my nose clean for the most part, I should be a free man,” Abe confirms.
“We normally want a man to prospect for a full year, so we can get the measure of him,” Deacon says. “But this is a special circumstance, and I think we can work something out. Abe, I tell you what. You keep watching over our boy Chase all
the time he’s in here. If you have his back in a place like this, then every man in our MC will know damn well that you’ll have theirs too.”
“If you can put up with being his cellmate all that time without killing him, we’ll know just how serious you are about joining,” Rubin interjects with a chuckle.
Deacon waves a hand to silence him as the rest of us share a laugh. “I was going to say that if you can do that, then once you get out of this place, we’ll be here to greet you, and hang a prospect cut on you. You’ll still need to go through some training, mind you, and everyone will need a chance to get to know you. Even so, with Chase sponsoring you while you two are here, I expect it won’t take any time at all to get you voted in as a member. Then, after that, we can talk about letting your brother Gabriel prospect. What do you say, sound like something you want to do?”
“It does, sir,” Abe says, his voice cracking. “It feels like a dream, actually. I thought coming in here was going to be the end of me, but to meet Chase, and now his brothers…it’s more than I could have ever imagined. Chase is going to get sick of hearing me say it, but thank you. Thank you all for this opportunity.”
“Aw hell, boy, don’t think of it like that. It’s going to be some work,” Rubin tells him with a grin. “All families are. But Chase is right, you seem like a good one. Pearls amongst the swine and all that, right?”
“That ain’t what that saying means, Rubin, and you damn well know it,” Deacon wheezes in irritation. “If you’re going to quote the Bible, at least read the thing!”
That sets Abe off into a cackling fit, and I can’t help but crack a grin at seeing these two old friends banter. I’ve missed them, feeling a deep homesickness that only grows more poignant every time they come to visit.
“Time’s up Fury, Cross,” a guard near the wall announces.