“They’re going to get it done by Wednesday!” she tells me excitedly once I’m within earshot. “It’s going to be much better than the last one. Lighter too.”
Leaning down, I pull her into me and kiss her lips, the cold air and enthusiasm giving a flush to her face.
“That’s great, babe,” I tell her. “Fuckin’ ace.”
Chapter Eighteen
Sophie…
There’s obviously something to be said about going private. Everyone at the clinic had been so solicitous and helpful. My new leg’s going to be lightweight titanium, and I won’t even have long to wait to get it. Certainly not as long as I would have had to in England. Peg was great too, so encouraging, telling me how he motivated himself to get up and moving again. Apparently, it was the draw of his bike he couldn’t resist. He just kept that vision of riding again in his head, which helped him focus on getting his strength and balance back.
Oh, to walk on two legs again without the aid of crutches! I can’t wait!
The guys were great. After the clinic, we picked up a now refreshed Hank and drove out to visit various local spots which were suitable for my wheelchair. The scenery here is beautiful, and I looked longingly up at the mountains, some of the highest peaks still with snow on top, wishing I could go up the hiking trails which seemed to be advertised everywhere. I might never be able to ski, of course, but to ride a buggy through the snow, that would be great. One day, I promise myself, one day.
But the best of the day is yet to come. As soon as we return to the motel after dinner, Wraith draws me into the room, shutting the door firmly behind us. He lifts me out of my wheelchair and holds me to him. As best I can, I wrap my legs around him, my arms hugging him tight.
He stares into my eyes for a moment. “Fuck, I’ve missed you today.”
“You’ve been with me almost all the time.” I laugh.
“Yeah, but you haven’t been naked.”
I’m still laughing as he takes me to the bed and remedies the situation immediately by stripping me bare.
“Babe, you’re fuckin’ beautiful. These tits? The best I’ve ever seen.” His eyes gleam as he places his large palms over my breasts, fondling and caressing them. His fingers go to my nipples, tweaking and twisting them until I’m writhing as pleasure shoots down my spine. Once my nipples are peaking, he sits back to admire his handiwork, then pushes my globes together. “Fuck, babe, can’t wait to slide my cock between these beauties.”
The devotion he’s lavishing on me is making it almost impossible for me to speak, so I simply moan in response.
When his eyes meet mine, they glint wickedly, and his finger comes out to touch my lips. Gently he circles them, slipping his digit inside, pushing my teeth apart until my mouth drops open. I smile at him, thinking I know what’s on his mind.
“Got something to put in there, babe. You up for that?”
Biting down on him, I manage to awkwardly get out the words, “You want me to suck your cock?”
His eyes blaze as he gasps. “Fuck, yeah, darlin’. Fuck, I do.”
He shifts up the bed, and lifting my hands I undo his button, then his zip. As soon as it’s free, his large cock bobs out as though happy to be out of its confines. He lifts his hips and helps me push the denim over his hips and shuffles up some more.
Taking him in both hands, I use a moment to study him. He’s perfect. The head of his cock, glistening with pre-cum, is bulbous and purple, paler skin punctuated with bulging bluish veins covering the rest of his shaft. As my fingers explore, it twitches in my hands. Teasing him, I tighten my grip, but only a little, and start running my hands up and down the long, thick rod, my tongue coming out and licking my lips in anticipation of having all that inside me.
He can’t hold back a groan, and I see his hands jerk as if he wants me to get a move on.
But I want to torture him a little longer. Now, pulling him a little toward me, I lick the moisture at the tip, making sure to slide my tongue along his slit, lightly enough to tantalise. His salty taste and musky smell evoke a rush of wetness between my legs, and I moan against his skin.
“Fuck! You trying to kill me here, babe?” he growls, as he feels my breath and the vibrations of the sounds I’m making.
Taking pity on him, I pull him closer, taking the head in my mouth, sucking him in.
“Fuck!”
Knowing I must be doing it right, I take in as much of him as I can, using one hand to keep pressure on the length of him I can’t take inside, and with the other I start to massage his heavy balls. Hollowing my cheeks, I draw him in further, as far as he can go without me gagging. Again I moan, and start a rhythm of sucking, laving with my tongue, and swallowing.
“Oh Christ, yeah, babe. Fuck!”
I keep it up, squeezing his balls gently as I start to feel him swell in my mouth. But he pulls out.
“I want in your pussy!”
Swiftly moving back down, he wastes no time putting his mouth to my clit, sucking and swirling his tongue around. Already aroused, I feel myself tightening in just moments, every muscle tensing as he adds to my body’s excitement when he slides his fingers inside me, curling up to that spot which will send me over the top.
“Fuck, you’re ready for me, darlin’, aren’t you?” His words, mumbled against me and his warm breath against my tender flesh, shoot me higher.”
“I… I…”
“Come for me, babe.”
His encouragement is all I need. My whole body stills, then starts to shudder as I reach the peak and soar over. Jesus! Every single time it gets better! It’s as if he’s learning my body and how it reacts. I can hardly catch my breath as I come with a scream I’m unable to suppress even while knowing the walls of the motel are paper thin.
Now he’s reaching for a condom, his eyes glow knowingly as he rolls it on in one smooth movement, and then he’s inside me, his large cock pushing through my tight folds as I adjust to let him in.
My eyes roll back in my head. I’m still shaking from that first intense orgasm, and as he starts slowly sliding in and out it ramps up my arousal all over again until soon, I’m coming for a second time, my muscles contracting around him.
“Fuck, I’m not gonna last,” he roars, picking up the pace, making the headboard slam against the wall.
I didn’t think I was capable, but he’s hammering into me now, and a third orgasm starts before the second completely fades.
“Wraith!”
I scream his name as he shouts out, “I’m coming babe!”
He loses rhythm, pushing into me with short, hard bursts, emptying himself into the condom. His arms are taut as he holds himself above me, his face strained, his eyes closed. Then, as I watch, he opens them and bestows on me a beatific smile.
“Fuck, it just keeps getting better.”
Reaching up a shaking hand, I stroke his cheeks. “For me too,” I tell him. “For me too.”
Suddenly we hear a knocking on the wall, and a muffled voice shouting, “Glad it was fuckin’ good for someone.”
Then he collapses down and rolls me over into his side, both of us shaking with laughter.
“Fuck off, Peg!” he calls out, making me giggle even more.
After having to sit through a good light-hearted ribbing over breakfast the next morning, we set out for a day of sightseeing. Limited to where they can take me, we end up at a petting zoo, one of the few attractions in the area that’s on the flat. I had a riot of a time watching the two burly bikers oohing and ahhing over baby goats and the like. I was slightly surprised they didn’t insist on taking one home! Poor Hank had once again been left watching the bikes, but he took it all good-naturedly in his stride, and Wraith told me it was no more than he’d expect―he’d had to do similar when he was prospecting. Feeling sorry for the prospect, I made sure to take him out a burger from the stand in the zoo before we left. He’d taken it from me gratefully after a cautious glance toward Wraith. Peg made as if to take it away from him, and even I
had to giggle at the disappointed look on his face, but then the sergeant-at-arms relented, and we waited until he’d eaten before setting off.
Another bout of delicious lovemaking that night, which made me grateful for my wheelchair the next morning, not sure I’d be able to walk on unbowed legs even if I had two of them to stand on. But along with the pleasure, I had the niggling thought at the back of my mind, How long should I be letting this go on for? I’m leading him on and giving him unfair expectations. But I can’t bring myself to pull away, not just yet.
A message first thing tells me the clinic has my prosthesis ready for collection. When I have it fitted, it moulds snuggly to what’s left of my leg, much better than the old one. But apparently the stump changes in size as healing continues, and I might have needed a new one in any event. But my new prosthesis should last for the next two to three years. They give me spare socks to cushion it, an explanation, and a leaflet―which I take politely though I’d had similar instructions in England―on proper stump care, and we’re ready to leave.
The clinic visit hadn’t taken long, and it’s only just eleven o’clock, and the guys decide to head back today rather than staying until tomorrow as originally planned. So we don’t hang around, just returning briefly to collect our things and settle up at the motel, and soon we’re setting off for the tedious drive back.
The journey goes smoothly, but I grow fidgety, and I’m grateful for the stops we have to make every couple of hundred miles for the bikes to top off their tanks. Feeling more awake than I did on the way there, to relieve my boredom I get Peg talking. He tells me how he lost his leg, and how he survived the emotional aftermath, leaving me in awe of his strength, having picked himself up and got on with life again. But when I express my opinion, he shuts me down, admitting being angry for the first few months, believing life had treated him unfairly. Although he also divulged he was better off than his comrades who’d lost their lives in the same blast that injured him. It makes me feel ashamed that I’d thought of ending my own, and I realise he’s right. Life is still worth living, even if it means making adaptations and having to work so hard at what for the able-bodied is easy.
Having someone who understands, who can give me so much advice and encouragement, is great. Much better than the physios who I felt couldn’t appreciate what I was going through. As we drive past Phoenix with only a couple of hours left to go, I make up my mind not to let my disability stand in my way or rule my life. The woman coming back from Utah has a far different outlook than the person who went.
We make one final stop just south of Casa Grande as the I-10 meets up with the I-8 and pull off into the same service station we stopped at on our way to Utah. Before filling up for a final time, Hank and Wraith join Peg in getting their cuts out of the back of the van and putting them on, now back on the Satan’s Devils’ Tucson Chapter ground. It is, Peg tells me, the usual place they tend to stop for that very task.
Wraith takes a moment to come and give me a hug and a kiss that makes Peg whistle loudly. Hank just grins at us, shaking his head before going back to his bike. That’s another thing that’s changed during our trip. Having enjoyed the company of all three bikers during our days away, they’ve become people I’m proud to call friends despite the revelations I’ve recently been given about the way they live. Then I slap down the thought as one in particular seems far too close to becoming much more to me than that. And I can’t let that happen.
Before we get back into the SUV, I take one last lingering look at the biker who’s given me so much pleasure over the last few days, admiring the figure he makes as he sits on his bike, waiting for us to get moving. Even before my accident I’d have counted myself fortunate to have attracted the interest of the likes of him, and as it is, I can’t believe he’s not just able to overlook my disability but embraces it. As my eyes greedily soak him in, I try to harden my heart. This ends soon. It has to.
Peg slips the gears into drive and we pull away. I think back to the previous night and shift awkwardly in my seat as I remember Wraith’s talented mouth and hands, and wonder whether I’ll ever find anyone to match his calibre in the future, or if anyone else will ever accept my deficiencies in the same way.
Forcing myself to strengthen my resolve never to tie myself to any one man, I dredge up my nightmare to remind me there’s nothing else I can do.
As the final miles pass, Peg and I drive on in a comfortable silence with just the radio playing a rock station but turned down low. We’re tired, and both of us just want to get back to the club. It’s dark, past midnight now, as at some of our stops we’d had to take the time to fill our hungry bellies. I feel stiff, and my missing leg is aching like a bitch, so I concentrate on the exercises Peg had told me about. Despite the fact my new prosthesis is more comfortable than the old, my stump’s started feeling sore. No, I can’t wait to get…
The loud sound of gunfire coming out of the blue makes me jump. Peg looks in his mirror and swears loudly seconds before the SUV starts lurching to the right. He tries to fight it, but more gunshots sound, and despite his best efforts, the vehicle’s swinging around onto the hard shoulder, throwing me hard against the seat belt. Stunned, my chest hurting, I see Wraith shoot up in front of us, gesticulating wildly. As Peg’s yanking the steering wheel with one hand desperately trying to keep an iota of control, he’s grabbing his phone with the other.
“We’ve got trouble,” he says into it without introduction. “Just south of Casa Grande. Five or six bikes, firing at us. If we make it, we’ll be coming in hot.”
If we make it?
I hang onto the door with all my might as the SUV lurches and bumps up over the ground at the side of the road and comes to a jarring halt. Peg jumps out, yells at me to keep my head down, and slides a gun out of a hidden compartment in the centre console. Before I duck, I see Wraith’s produced a weapon from somewhere on his bike and is running up to us, gun in hand and at the ready. They both start firing.
It’s at that point I realise I haven’t seen Hank. Where the fuck is he? Has he been hurt? A glance in the mirror shows me his treasured bike lying on the road behind us, but no sign of the prospect. Christ, I hope he’s okay!
Shots keep being fired, ringing out loud over the sound of engines idling. Wraith and Peg exchange words which I can’t hear over the hammering of my heart and the rushing of air in and out of my lungs. My whole body’s trembling. Suddenly my door’s wrenched open and Wraith reaches in and pulls me out.
“You’ll have to hang onto me, darlin’.” Hang on to him where? How?
It all becomes clear when he carries me to his bike, puts me on an uncomfortable flat seat on the back, and in a smooth motion gets himself on in front.
“Arms around my waist. Hold fuckin’ tight.”
I can’t do this, I can’t be on a motorcycle. Not like this, and especially not in the middle of the night while strangers are firing at us. But Wraith doesn’t give me a chance to object. His engine already running, we roar off at a frighteningly fast pace. All I can do is hang on for dear life. Somehow my right foot has found the foot peg, and I tense the muscle in my other thigh knowing I can’t let my prosthesis touch the wheel. The only time I’ve been more scared was when the car ran over me.
As the firing fades into the distance, I hear the thunder of bikes chasing after us. Wraith rides like the wind, and I’m hanging onto him so hard I think I might hurt him, but at that moment that’s the last thing on my mind. I just don’t want to fall off! I close my eyes so I don’t have to watch the road disappearing at a sickening fast rate beneath us, worried that at any moment we might be shot, or he might lose control of the bike. Or both.
I don’t know how long it is in reality, but it feels like hours before we meet a pack of bikes coming the other way. Wraith slows and comes to a halt beside the leader, the rest stream past us, giving chase to our pursuers who’ve made a swift about turn and are zooming off in the direction we’d come from.
“Peg’s b
ack there―tyres shot out on the van.”
“Hank?” I recognise Drummer, the president.
Wraith shakes his head. “Think he took a bullet. He came down pretty hard. But I saw him take one of them out first.”
Drummer swears, loudly. I put my hand to my mouth. Oh no, sweet Hank. And Peg. Both of them who I now count as good friends. I start praying they’ll be okay.
“You alright, sweetheart?”
It takes me a moment to realise Drummer’s talking to me. In response, I can only shake my head. I feel like I’m going to be sick and am about as far from alright as I could possibly be.
After giving me an assessing look, he instructs Wraith, “Take her back to the clubhouse. Get her settled. I’ll go see what the damage is.”
As Drummer speeds off into the night, Wraith takes no time getting on his way again. This time a little bit, just a tiny smidgeon, slower.
I can’t talk to him until we get back to the compound. When he lifts me off the bike, I’m shaking in his arms. He carries me straight into the clubhouse where a couple of members have remained. I recognise Dollar and Heart. As soon as we enter, they send the sweet butts on their way. Wraith lowers me into one of the seats around a table and goes toward the bar. Dollar has already moved to his side.
“Vodka for her,” Wraith puts in his request. The treasurer already appears to have something brown and strong in a shot glass for Wraith.
I hear them talking quietly while the drinks are prepared, punctuated by loud swearing and exclamations. But Wraith doesn’t forget me and soon appears with my drink in hand. I’m rubbing my leg where the muscles locked from me clenching it so hard to stay on the bike. He sees, and his face twists ruefully.
“Told you I’d get you on the back of my bike. Next time I’ll sort it so you’ll be more comfortable.”
I’m not at all sure I want there to be a next time. My heart’s still feeling like it’s going to jump out of my chest, and violent shakes keep going through me. My ears are still ringing from the gunshots and loud engine noises. But I’m alive, and I’m safe. Unlike the others.
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