Misadventures of a Biker

by Scott Hildreth

  “Go to the clubhouse.” I smirked. “There’s a good chance I might be late.”

  Chapter Six

  Teddi

  The workday was nearly over. I’d spent most of it watching Devin talk on the phone and trying to catch glimpses of him each time he walked to the bathroom. What time wasn’t spent drooling over his bravado gait was spent daydreaming of what I wanted him to do to me.

  I regretted not apologizing to him for the way I acted. Doing it now would require talking to him face-to-face. Talking to him made me nervous. Avoidance was the only way for me to maintain any level of sanity.

  The sound of fingers snapping brought me out of my semiconscious state. I blinked my eyes into focus.

  Kate was leaning against my office door. “Wake up,” she said. “It’s almost time to go.”

  “I’m awake. I was just thinking. When did you get back?”

  “Just now.”

  “How’d it go?”

  “I sent you a text.” She took a few steps toward me. “Got the listing. Seven point two.”

  “Congratulations,” I said. “That’s a nice home.”

  “Thank you.” She gave me a funny look. “What were you thinking about?”

  “Oh, nothing. Why?”

  She gestured toward my face with her finger. “You’ve kind of got a little slobbery thing going on. You might want to wipe it off.”

  Embarrassed, I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. “I was just daydreaming.”

  “About Devin?”

  “What?” I gasped. “Seriously? No.”

  Grinning, she gave me a look of opposition. “Are you sure?”

  She’d been gone in meetings all day and had no idea of the mental turmoil I’d faced. Even so, I wasn’t about to admit I’d spent the majority of my day hoping he’d get up and walk around the office. I needed to pull it together. Swimming in self-pity about Margaret’s home and using Devin as my mental means of resolve wasn’t healthy.

  I cleared my mind of lingering thoughts and gave her an innocent look. “Why would you say something like that?”

  “I see how you look at him.”

  “When?”

  “Always.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means I can see the way you look at him.”

  I was looking at him like any sex-starved woman would look at a hardened biker who had a cock the size of a can of Pringles. I’d deny it until I either believed it or until Kate called me out on it enough.

  “I look at him like I’m scared for my life,” I insisted. “Did you see how he looked at me in that meeting the other day? He was glaring at me like he wanted to carve out my heart and eat it.”

  She scowled. “He was not.”

  “How do you know?” I asked. “You were on his side of the table. You couldn’t see his face.”

  She looked at me the same way my mother had when she knew I was lying. I tried to muster a serious look but doubted I accomplished much.

  “I could see you,” she said. “And your face said it all.”

  “I didn’t look scared?”

  “No, you didn’t look scared.” She sat down across from me and laughed. “You looked hopeful. The last time I saw you look at someone like that was when… You know when it was.”

  “Don’t mention his name,” I said. “I mean it.”

  “I won’t. But”—she raised her brows and lowered her chin—“you looked at him the same way you looked at Devin.”

  I was afraid of that. I needed to find a way to conceal my feelings, or I was going to end up in trouble. If I was wearing my sexual thoughts like a jeweled crown, the women I worked with wouldn’t be the only ones who’d be able to see it. It would only be a matter of time until Mister Sexy could peer right through my translucent mask.

  “I did not,” I insisted. I situated a few things on my desk. The distraction did little to rid my mind of sexual thoughts. It had been way too long since I’d been in a real man’s presence. Dumbfounded as to why I had a stuffed pink starfish on my desk, I raised it in wonder. “Do you know where this came from?”

  “Stop changing the subject.”

  I tossed it into the trash. “Other than the meeting, I really haven’t spoken to him. You two seem to talk a lot. What’s he like?”

  “He’s nice. He’s respectful.” She picked some lint from her blouse. “His dad used to own a construction company in town. That’s where he got his experience. He lives with that old man, Herb.” She looked up. “I guess he was friends with Devin’s dad.”

  “He makes me nervous,” I said. “Not Herb. Devin.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Why?”

  I wished I hadn’t mentioned it. The only thing that made me nervous was that I knew I had zero ability to resist Devin if he made any sexual advances toward me. Rugged alpha males, homemade cookies, and sweet wine were my weaknesses. Only one of them would cause my life to spiral downward until I hit rock bottom.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I think it’s just the way he looks at me. It’s like I’m made of glass.”

  “Listen to this.” She leaned onto the front edge of my desk. “Devin and I went to lunch at that new hamburger place in Mercato the other day, and Paul Trevotti came in. He was wearing flip-flops, a pair of faded shorts, and a crappy Rolling Stones concert tee. Devin watched him sit down and said, ‘See that guy. He’s got money. Serious money.’ I asked how he knew. He said, ‘I can just tell by how he walks.’ Maybe he learned how to read people when he was…umm…” She wrung her hands together.

  “When he was what?” I asked. “You can’t just stop like that, Kate. You always do that.”

  “When he was in the motorcycle club.”

  Visions of Jax Teller from the Sons of Anarchy came to mind. My entire body began to tingle. I swallowed against a lump of desire as it slowly rose in my throat.

  “He was in a motorcycle club?” I murmured.

  “He was.” She began picking at her blouse again. “He’s not now.”

  It was time we change the subject. If not, Kate would continue discussing Devin just to watch me squirm. She was a wonderful person—and my best friend—but she derived tremendous pleasure by living vicariously through others. It wasn’t uncommon for her to suggest men—who she would never personally date—to clients, coworkers, and friends. She would then press them for information about their relationship, leaving nothing off-limits.

  She was far too sensible to venture away from her vanilla lifestyle. Having others do it was as close as she’d ever get. I wasn’t interested in becoming one of her guinea pigs. If we continued discussing Devin, I’d be a complete wreck. I simply needed to avoid him until I built up a hatred toward his mere existence. It would come in time. It always did, eventually.

  “Enough about him,” I said, mentally shaking my head to clear it of impure thoughts. “What else is going on?”

  Her eyes danced around my office playfully while she thought of something to say. She lifted a blown-glass paperweight off my desk and studied it. “Do you know anyone who is single and leans toward the freaky side of sex?”

  My eyes bulged. “What?”

  She set the sphere down and glared. “Shhh.” She glanced toward the door. “Your door is open.”

  “You’re the one asking questions about freaky sex,” I whispered. “What are you talking about?”

  “This conversation is between you and me,” she said. “You’re not going to use it against anyone. Promise?”

  I sighed. “I’m not a child.”

  She gave me a side-eyed look. “Promise?”

  “Okay,” I whined. “I promise.”

  Her mouth twisted into a guilty grin. “Now I’m not sure if I should say anything.”

  “You can’t ask a question like that and then not elaborate,” I said. “Spill it.”

  She sighed. “Devin likes rough sex. Really rough sex. He said it’s all but impossible to find someone who can…”

  My ears b
egan to ring, drowning out everything she said after rough sex. Kate knew me well enough to know I was the type of woman she was asking about. She also realized I wasn’t interested in a relationship. I hoped she knew I wasn’t willing to fuck an employee. Especially after the last catastrophe.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  Still babbling about Devin’s sexual preferences, she paused. “Huh?”

  “I’m not interested in him,” I said. “If that’s what you’re trying to—”

  “Oh. Not at all,” she said, shaking her head. Her mouth curled into a mischievous grin. “I’m just asking for a friend.”

  “Kate…”

  She raised her hands in surrender. “I’m serious.”

  I tapped a pen against the edge of my desk. “He’s sexy. He’s a freak. He’s handsome. He’s alpha as hell. He’s handsome. He’s also exactly what I don’t need in my life. I’m not interested. I can’t take that chance. Not again.”

  “You said handsome twice.”

  “No I didn’t.”

  “You did,” she insisted. “Twice.”

  “Whatever.”

  “Well, I wasn’t suggesting you consider him. I was just… Anyway.” She shrugged as if it was no big deal. “If you think of anyone, let me know.”

  I studied her. It was impossible to tell if she was trying to help Mister Sexy or if she was trying to plant a seed in my mind. She was always smiling, which made reading her moods difficult to say the least.

  “Yeah. I’ll ask around town,” I said in a sarcastic tone.

  A knock on my door startled the hell out of me. I darted my eyes to the doorway.

  Standing in the center of the opening with his arms crossed, Devin was looking right at me. “Couple of the fellas want to meet at the property and have a look at it.” He glanced at his watch. “You want to ride on the back of my bike or take your broom?”

  My gaze fell to the desk. “If I haven’t said I was sorry, I am.”

  “You didn’t. I appreciate it.” He took a few steps toward me. “To keep from pissing off the population on Gordon Drive, I should probably ride with you, though. My bike’s liable to wake everyone up from their afternoon naps. They might hold you responsible.”

  He was right about the neighborhood’s perception of a Harley with loud pipes. Riding with me wasn’t an option, though.

  “When do they want to meet?” I asked.

  “Thirty minutes.”

  If he got in the car with me, his raised handprints would be on my ass cheeks before the night was over. I needed a way out, and I needed it fast.

  “Ride with Kate,” I said. “I’ll meet you two there.”

  “No can do,” Kate said, tapping her index finger against the face of her watch. “I’m meeting someone for drinks.”

  “When?” I blurted.

  “Thirty minutes.” She stood. “Twenty, really.”

  “Where’s Janine?”

  “Estero.”

  I looked at Devin. Remembering the mistakes of my past was crucial to my success. If being hornswoggled out of my savings, cheated on, and humiliated wasn’t enough, nothing would be.

  I reached for my purse. “Give me two minutes. I’ll meet you at the door.”

  He undressed me with his eyes. “All right.”

  My gaze fell to his crotch.

  His burrito twitched.

  Fearing I was losing my mind, I met his gaze. I needed reassurance that what I thought happened hadn’t.

  He winked and turned away.

  I quickly looked to Kate’s chair. It was empty.

  I drew a breath of courage and headed for the door. If we didn’t stop for drinks, everything should be fine.

  Just fine.

  Chapter Seven

  Devin

  Sitting within a few feet of Teddi in her Range Rover, it was impossible to deny her natural beauty. In a city where Botox injections, breast enhancements, and liposuction were the norm, she appeared to be sans any visible enhancements.

  Although I hated to admit it, there was really no room for Teddi to improve in the looks department. Personality-wise, however, she could’ve used an augmentation. She hadn’t said two words since we left the office.

  To keep myself from nursing a stiff dick for the entire ride, I attempted to gaze straight ahead during most of the trip across town. When the occasion arose, I stole quick glances at her. Any man deprived of sexual contact for eight years would have done the same thing.

  Her blond hair was pinned in a bun. The skintight tangerine dress she wore had a low neckline and thin straps that draped over each shoulder. Her right wrist was decorated with multiple gold bracelets and her left with a gold watch. Two gold necklaces dangled over a valley of cleavage that garnered my attention each time I looked in her direction.

  As much as I hoped to stare straight at the road ahead, my eyes rattled back and forth like a pachinko ball.

  Teddi complained about an elderly driver in a Bentley convertible. I took the opportunity to take another look at her gravity-defying tits.

  “I can’t believe she’s just sitting there,” Teddi seethed. “The light’s been green for at least sixty seconds.”

  “I can’t believe you haven’t honked.”

  “It doesn’t matter how mad I get, I don’t honk. I hate it when people do that to me, so I don’t do it to them.”

  I made note that she was a compassionate driver. It did little to dissolve the frustration that remained from how disrespectful she’d been in the meeting. While she gripped the steering wheel with such force that it turned her knuckles white, I took another look at her magnificent tits.

  Traffic cleared just as the signal changed from green to yellow. Teddi turned the steering wheel to the right and punched the gas. My road bag slid from my lap, revealing my current state of arousal. As I fumbled to slide the leather satchel back into place, Teddi glanced in my direction.

  Not wanting her to think I was interested in her sexually, I slid the worn leather bag over my rigid dick.

  I looked at her like she’d purposefully backed over my motorcycle in the parking lot. “You should warn a guy before you do something like that.”

  “What’s in that bag, anyway?”

  “Just a few things we might need.”

  “Tools?”

  “More or less.”

  She gave the bag a quick look and then shifted her eyes to the road. Ten minutes of silence followed, which had been the norm for most of the trip. I wondered if she was reserved or if her dislike for tattooed bikers was something I should truly be concerned with.

  We pulled into the home’s gated drive and rolled to a stop. Teddi programmed the code into the keypad and waited for the gate to open. “Where are your friends?”

  “I’m sure they’ll be here soon.”

  She proceeded up the long drive, seeming slightly uneasy about something.

  “What’s with the apprehension?” I asked.

  “Apprehension?” she stammered. “I’m not apprehensive.”

  “You seem like it.”

  “Well, I’m not,” she snapped back. She parked in front of the guesthouse and left the vehicle running. “I guess we’ll just wait for them to get here.”

  “Can we go inside and look around?” I asked.

  She looked at me like I’d asked her to behead a goat. “What?”

  “Inside,” I said, gesturing toward the home. “Can we go inside?”

  She swallowed heavily. “Do we need to?”

  The driving force was apparent. She didn’t want to be alone with me. Realizing it fueled me to press the issue even harder. I opened the car door and stepped outside.

  “C’mon,” I said, shouldering my bag. “Let’s look this place over.”

  She got out of the car and tugged the wrinkles from her slinky dress. “Follow me,” she said over the car’s hood. “I’ll give you a quick tour.”

  She conquered a pair of four-inch heels with an elegance I’d never wi
tnessed. Each calculated step was placed perfectly in front of the other, almost as if she were walking a tightrope.

  Following a ten-second-long session of being captivated by her purposeful stride, my gaze shifted to her magnificent ass. It was as wonderful as her tits. Small but more than ample for her petite frame, it complemented her small waist. Hypnotized by the rhythmic rise and fall of both ass cheeks, I watched her strut across the handlaid brick drive until she reached the door. Even though I detested her abrasive attitude, she made me hornier than a three-dicked rabbit.

  She unlocked the door and stepped inside. “Well, here it is,” she said with a wave of her hand. “In all its Mediterranean glory.”

  I stepped around her, hoping the home’s unsightly interior would diffuse my state of arousal. A trace of her perfume tickled my nostrils as I walked past. She smelled better than she looked, and her looks would warrant being arrested in a handful of Middle Eastern countries. Barring an intervention, things were going to take a sexual turn. That much I was sure of.

  I brushed past her. “I’ll be right back,” I said over my shoulder.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To the kitchen,” I replied. “Keep an eye out for them. I’ll be right back.”

  The home was just as hideous as the pictures depicted. High Venetian plaster ceilings, dark woods, darker tile, and a hideously out-of-place dark wood floor—it was about as welcoming as the federal prison’s special housing unit or hole.

  I laid my bag on the kitchen island and placed the bottle of wine I’d purchased in the refrigerator. After a quick survey of the flooring and trim, I was convinced the new floor would be a breeze.

  Pleased with my findings, and even more thrilled with what the night might hold, I sauntered to the grand entrance.

  “Any sign of them?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “No.”

  Leaning against the door with her hands behind her back, she seemed scared to come inside.

  “I took a look at the flooring in there,” I said. “This is going to be a breeze.”

  “Do you think so?”

  I unbuttoned my shirt and started to take it off.