by Joanna Wylde
She cocked an eyebrow at me and I knew she meant every word. Mom had a temper, no question. That’s what got her here in the first place. But I loved the fact that she always protected her chicks, back when we were little and now, too. My mom wasn’t perfect, but the woman could be an avenging angel when she needed to be, something more than one school bully had learned the hard way.
“He won’t be bothering me again,” I said quickly. “A friend of mine had some words with him.”
“Friend?” she asked.
“Um, actually a friend of Jeff’s. He’s a biker.”
“I see,” Mom said. “Since when does Jeff hang out with bikers? Gamers are more his speed, I’d think.”
“Ever since I moved back to the trailer,” I replied, shrugging. “He’s doing some kind of work for them. I don’t know the details.”
“They good bikers or bad bikers?”
“What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean.”
I laughed nervously.
“Um, they’re good to me. Kind of rough and they can get scary, but I’m okay with them.”
Her eyes narrowed, studying me. I shifted nervously, blushing again. Mom always saw right through me.
“Just ‘getting along’ or something more?” she asked. I shrugged again and she smirked.
“Well, be careful. Bikers can be great, but the hardcore guys are living in a different world from us.”
“Yeah, I picked up on that,” I said wryly. “It’s nothing serious, mostly just flirting.”
She didn’t need to know all the details. Does anyone really want to tell their mom about their best orgasm ever?
“I’ve got news of my own,” she replied with a gleam in her eye. Uh-oh, I recognized that gleam.
“What?” I asked, unnerved.
“Well, I’ve reconnected with someone,” she said. “A man. We’re getting serious.”
That caught my attention.
“How on earth are you doing that from jail?” I exclaimed. “I swear, you’re like a magnet. How do you get so many guys after you?”
She giggled, looking years younger than her age.
“Well, I may be getting old, but I’m not dead yet,” she replied. “He came to see me not too long after I got in here. In fact, he’s been visiting me a couple times a week.”
“Who?”
“John Benson.”
“No way,” I muttered, stunned. “John Benson, our landlord?”
”Yeah,” she said, looking sheepish. “You may not know this, but he and I had a thing a long time ago…”
“I know,” I replied. “I also know he was married.”
She had the grace to look embarrassed.
“Well, I’ve made mistakes. But you should know we both felt guilty. That’s why we ended it. His wife never knew. She’s been dead for about three years now, car accident. John and I had been avoiding each other for so long it became a habit, but I guess when he read about me in the paper he started thinking about me.”
Only my mother would end up finding love by trying to run over two cops. Clearly, John Benson was an idiot.
“He wants me to marry him.”
I shook my head, unsure what to say. Finally I managed to speak.
“Well, I guess that’s good, Mom. How does he feel about what happened?”
“He knows I have my issues, but I’m sober now, which has helped me sort things out,” she said. That was true—she’d joined AA even before her little incident. We’d confronted her about her drinking after Jeff found her passed out outside the trailer in the snow last winter. It was a miracle she survived. “I’ve realized now that I need to deal with my emotions or I get… upset.”
That was the understatement from hell.
“Aren’t you supposed to stay out of relationships your first year of AA?”
“It’ll be almost a full year by the time I get out,” she replied. “I’d get out a little earlier for good behavior, but they’re not cutting me any slack because of the cop thing.”
We looked at each other, both thinking back to that day. She sighed. “I never do anything halfway, do I?”
I shook my head, smiling ruefully. “That’s the truth.”
“I’m moving in with him when I get out. That’s good news for you and Jeff, I guess. You’ll get to keep the trailer all to yourselves.”
I shrugged.
“If that’s what you want,” I replied. “It concerns me a little, but if you’re happy, that’s good enough for me.”
She smiled, the tension on her face easing.
“Thank you, baby,” she whispered. “I’ve been worried about telling you guys. Will you talk to Jeff for me? He hasn’t been to visit in a month and I’m worried. Is everything okay?”
I thought about how to answer her question. I didn’t know of anything specifically wrong with Jeff, but there was definitely something going on. How to explain that though?
“He’s been kind of edgy,” I said finally. “And lost some weight. But he hasn’t talked to me about anything, and when I asked he blew me off. Wish I could tell you more.”
“Thanks for that,” she said. “You tell him I love him?”
“I’ll tell him.”
September 1
Me: Well that was fun
Horse: ?
Me: Went to see mom. She’s ok, but crazy news. Getting married
Horse: This a good thing?
Me: Not sure. He’s the guy who owns our trailer. They used to have a thing, but he was married. Wife died couple years ago
Horse: Good guy?
Me: Cheated on his wife with my mom
Horse: One-time thing or pattern?
Me: Short term accord to mom. Says they both felt awful, ended it. Explains why we get the trailer so cheap
Horse: No shit
Horse: You like him?
Me: I guess. Always been nice to me. She’s moving in with him when she gets out.
Horse: Then be happy for your mom.
Me: Gonna try
Sept. 3
Horse: Whens your next day off?
Me: Thurs. Why?
Horse: Want to visit
Me: I’d like that :)
Sept. 6
I studied my face in the mirror critically, wishing I didn’t feel so nervous. The bruises had faded, which was good, and you could hardly see where my lip had been split. There were still a few yellowish splotches, though. I covered those up with strategically placed makeup. Then I put on a pretty sundress—nothing fancy, but bright and cheerful and it made my boobs look fantastic.
All in all, I looked human again.
Horse would arrive any time. The drive was a little over three hours, and he’d texted me when he left at seven that morning. I couldn’t define our relationship, but he wanted to visit me, not Jeff, and he was coming by himself. That had to mean something. And I couldn’t be just a booty call when he’d never gotten my booty, right?
I heard him pulling up and paused at the door, tugging up the bodice of my dress. Cleavage had seemed like a great idea earlier, but now I felt self-conscious. He knocked on the door.
“You there, sweet butt?” he called. I opened the door and his eyes went straight to my chest.
“Don’t call me sweet butt,” I snapped at him and he grinned, reaching out a finger to poke my nose.
“Bitchy, aren’t we?”
“Rude, aren’t we?”
“Always.”
We started laughing at the same time, and he pulled me into his arms, giving me a welcome kiss that made me forget everything else. While his tongue explored my mouth, his hands roamed down to my rear, cupping my cheeks and pulling me up and into his hips. I felt his cock against my stomach and sparks raced through me. Hard to believe I could make this handsome, intimidating biker so aroused.
Finally the need to breathe got the better of me, and I pulled away from him, taking his hand and drawing him in to the living room, toward the couch. He looked around
, eyes pausing as they took in Jeff’s pipe on the coffee table.
“Your brother here?”
“He’s still in bed,” I said. “Not really a morning person.”
Horse gave a rueful laugh.
“Me neither, got up too early this morning.”
A thrill ran through me—he’d been eager enough to see me that he’d gotten up early!
“So you have business down here?” I asked, trying to sound casual. He shook his head.
“Just you, babe.”
I grinned at him like an idiot. So much for being cool. “So what do you want to do?”
He raised an eyebrow.
“Do you really have to ask?”
I laughed nervously. He might be gorgeous, but I couldn’t just jump into bed with him, not like this. I needed a little warming up first.
“Um, how about I show you around the area a little, maybe go down to the river or something?”
He gave me a knowing look. “Chicken.”
“Maybe.”
“Okay, we’ll play this your way. You want to pack a lunch or go out?”
I thought about my bank balance—growing, but still low—and decided a picnic was the way to go.
“Give me ten minutes and I’ll have something pulled together.”
“You’d better change too.”
“Why?”
“Because you can’t ride a bike in that dress. Put on some jeans.”
“I’ve never ridden a bike before.”
Horse leaned over and gave me a quick kiss on the mouth.
“Lookin’ forward to being your first, babe.”
Chapter Seven
It took more like half an hour, but I packed a lunch, a blanket to sit on and some condoms (carefully zipped into a pocket in my purse), just in case. Horse handed me a black helmet that looked like what a German army guy would wear—you know, the kind that flares out a little around the edges? I wasn’t quite sure how to adjust it, but he put it on my head and fixed the straps carefully, like I was fragile and precious. I loved how that made me feel.
Then I got on the bike behind him, which was an experience in and of itself. The Harley was big and wide, and I had to spread my legs around his hips. My naughty bits didn’t miss the symbolism there. I wasn’t quite sure where to put my arms, but he grabbed my hands and pulled them around to his stomach.
“Hold tight,” he said. “Tap my stomach if you need me to stop for some reason and watch out for the pipes. They get hot.”
“Okay,” I replied nervously.
Then the bike roared to life and we pulled down the driveway.
How do I describe that first ride?
Well, for one thing, the bike vibrates. A lot. I suppose over time it would numb your rear, but for those first few minutes it felt like sitting on the world’s biggest sex toy. It didn’t hurt that my arms were wrapped tight around a hot, muscular guy who’d made it clear he appreciated my assets. I squeezed him tight as we pulled out onto the highway, holding on for dear life as he opened the throttle.
I’d promised to show him the sights, but he had his own agenda and apparently knew the area well already. After about half an hour, we pulled off the highway and headed up into the hills on a gravel road. This was much slower going, and before long it turned to dirt. The next thing I knew, we turned down a narrow track that barely deserved to be called a road. Then it dead-ended. Horse killed the engine.
I dropped my hands, accidentally grazing his erection. I jerked my hand away, embarrassed, but he grabbed it and pulled it back, rubbing it up and down his length.
“Missed that, babe,” he said.
I didn’t reply, feeling strangely shy, but when he let my hand go I didn’t stop touching him. I thought about his dick, how big it was, how hard it’d been the last time I’d seen it, all for me. I shifted on the seat, tilting my hips forward into the hard leather. It felt good to have my legs spread so wide… But I wanted to feel his shaft in my hand. I reached for his fly.
“Shit, babe, not gonna fuck you in the parking lot,” he said, laughing. I squawked, jerking my hands away, embarrassed. “Got a better idea. C’mon.”
I hopped off the bike, knowing my face must be bright red. Horse grabbed our picnic stuff and one of his saddlebags, holding out his hand. I took it and he pulled me along a trail through the brush.
Now, you have to realize that eastern Washington isn’t exactly the garden of Eden. It’s mostly desert and scrubland, with low, rolling hills. But as I followed him along a gully between two of those hills, more and more green appeared, along with a little trickle of water. We hiked next to the stream for about half an hour until we reached a small, round pond that gave off wisps of steam.
“A hot spring!” I exclaimed with delight. Horse looked smug as I ran to the edge, reaching down to trail my fingers through the water. “How did you know about this? I grew up around here and I’ve never heard of this place.”
“I know all kinds of interesting things you don’t,” he said, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.
I snickered. Then I stopped laughing and started running when he dropped the picnic stuff and lunged toward me. I screeched and giggled as he caught me from behind, pulling me back to the ground on top of him and tickling me. He lay on his back, arms around my chest, legs around mine, and held me in place as he reached down for the hem of my tee. He jerked it up and over my head, pausing to tickle me again every few seconds.
Then his hands went down to the fastening of my jeans.
“Don’t you dare!” I yelled, but he just laughed and ripped them open. He got them loose and pushed them down over my hips. At that, I bucked hard and he let me go, which pitched me forward. Before I could even think he was on me from behind, jerking my jeans down my legs. Then he stood up, holding them out of my reach triumphantly.
“You’re gonna pay for that!” I yelled, still laughing. I stopped laughing, though, and started running as he dropped the jeans and lunged toward me again. That worked just about as well as it had the first time, which was not at all. He caught me up and threw me over his shoulder, carrying me over to the spring, giving my butt a little smack, saying, “Quiet, woman.”
I screamed “No!” before I hit the water with a splash.
It was like jumping into a hot tub—not too deep, but deep enough that I wasn’t in any danger. I surfaced, scowling at him and dropping my head back into the water to get the hair out of my face. Then I popped back up to glare at him some more.
Horse doubled over laughing at me.
I splashed him as hard as I could, which made him laugh more, then turned away to pout.
Mistake.
The splash he made jumping in nearly knocked me over, and then his arms came around me, pulling my back into the curve of his body. He’d stripped down to his boxers. His hands slid over me, stroking my curves, and I melted.
“Baby, you’re cute when you’re wet,” he whispered in my ear, sliding a finger into my panties. He pushed my bra down with the other hand, rolling my nipple between his fingers as he toyed with my clit. I shuddered and arched my back as he flicked his finger faster and faster, playing me like a guitar. I guess I’d been in a constant state of arousal all morning, because I came like a firecracker.
“Holy shit…” I moaned, collapsing against him.
He kissed the back of my neck, then turned me to face him. I wrapped my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck, kissing him with everything I had. This time it was my tongue taking over his mouth as I dug my fingers through his hair. My bra was pushed down below my breasts, nipples chafing against his chest, and everything between us was all wet and slippery and delicious.
Finally he pulled away, sucking in a deep breath. I used the opportunity to reach down between us and grab his cock. He loosened his arms, making it easier for me to reach, and I pushed the fabric of his boxers down below the length of his erection. I cupped the underside of his penis, drawing the heel of my hand up and down along the
edge of the ridge around the head.
“Fuck, baby, that feels good.”
Encouraged, I gripped him and started pumping up and down, faster and faster, until his hands tightened on my hips and his breathing grew ragged. I slid my hand down below, cupping his balls, rolling them in his sac, then drew them back up and squeezed him tightly around the base. He shuddered, grabbing my hand in his and jerking it up and down along his cock, way rougher than I would have done on my own.
“Fuck me…” he muttered, resting his forehead against mine. “Like that, babe. Keep going, don’t stop.”
I pumped him as fast as I could, savoring his little moans of desire and satisfaction. Then I felt a throbbing deep inside his shaft. His seed shot out between us through the water, and he grunted violently as he came. I caressed him slowly as he softened, until he pulled my hand away, drawing it up and around his neck.
“You’re so fucking hot,” he whispered, kissing the sensitive skin below my ear. “I can’t believe how hot you are. I hated thinking about you all slutted up and going out without me, letting some other guy hold you.”
“Well, I spent the night listening to Jeff moaning and barfing, so that was sort of a bust,” I whispered back. “None of them would’ve come close to you, anyway. But I still wish I’d had more time to visit with Cara.”
He shrugged.
“Jeff did what he had to do.” His words struck me as odd.
“What do you mean?”
“He needed you at home, so he asked you to stay even though he probably hated keeping you in, that’s all.”
“Oh,” I said. “Yeah, you’re probably right. He’s been so good to me—it was the least I could do.”
I laid my head against his shoulder and we sat there in the hot water, savoring the moment, urgency gone. Then his stomach grumbled so hard I felt the vibrations.
“Hungry much?” I asked, smiling.
“I ate breakfast six hours ago,” he replied. “Wanted to get here and see you. Would have come last night if I could’ve.”
“I hate to end this, but maybe I should feed you.”
“I won’t argue. Your cooking’s almost as good as your hand jobs.”