Heavy Hogs MC

by Elias Taylor

  “As a matter of fact, I do.”

  I perked up. My day might be looking up. This pretty blonde bartender was fast becoming my new favorite person.

  “For my boyfriend,” she clarified.

  “Really? What kind of bike has he got?”

  She twitched her cute button nose at me as she wiped down the bar bench. “Well, he’s got this shell from an old Harley, and he wants to customize it. Put all the bells and whistles on it, you know. He’s really keen on it.”

  Now we were talking. New business flooded right into my lap.

  “Okay.” I whipped my card out of my pocket and handed it to her. “Have him give me a call.”

  She beamed back at me. “Thanks a million. I will. I knew you were the man to talk to.”

  I grinned at her. “Always.”

  Thank God for the business. I needed it, and it couldn’t have come a moment too soon. Now, this turned into a celebratory beer. I got another one and devoured some hot wings while I was at.

  Back at the garage, I put my coveralls back on once again. Back at it.

  “Hey, Magner!” I yelled.

  He popped out from the bathroom. “Yo! What’s up?”

  “We just got some new business. Turns out, my drinking habit pays off.”

  Magner wiped his brow. “What? That’s amazing. What are we looking at?”

  “A custom bike, apparently, from scratch. Bartender’s boyfriend. She says it’s a shell. Wait. I got a call coming through.”

  “Okay, dude. I’ll let you handle that. Gary just asked for a few more add-ons, as well. So there’s that. Exhaust features.”

  I fist-pumped at Magner. We were on a winning roll today, and I wanted to keep it that way.

  “Hello?”

  A familiar female voice answered the phone. “Hi, Carter?”

  “The one and only. How can I help you?”

  “Well, my boyfriend wants to meet you. I was wondering if we can come up to the shop this afternoon and discuss the bike?”

  “Sure can. Any time. We’re open ’till six.”

  “That’s great. We will probably be there in the next hour or two. I knock off soon.”

  “See you then.”

  “Great. Bye.”

  I hung up the phone. What a difference a day can make. I kept working and stepped into my motorcycle state of mind. I didn’t come up for air until I had to go to the bathroom. While I got washed up, I heard voices. Magner was talking to someone. When I stepped out, I was greeted by three people. Phoebe was there with what looked to be her boyfriend. There was another chick, a total hottie with chestnut hair. She looked like a real hellcat. She was giving me a real sex-kitten vibe. She was wearing heels and had a little pixie nose and sapphire eyes. I scanned her for a minute, seeing her black jeans and long, toned legs. She had a nice, perky ass, and she was wearing a cute white tank top. She had this long, gold necklace around her neck with a charm at the end. To my surprise, she had her eyes on me, too. She possessed a real boldness. I could feel it. It took over the whole garage. The boyfriend took the first step.

  “Hi, I’m Gareth. I was just talking to Magner here about my bike. Showing him the photos.”

  I wiped my hands clean. “Hey. That’s great. Whatcha got for me?”

  He let out a sigh. “It’s a big job. But I heard you’re the man.”

  I looked him in the eye. My skills were something I prided myself on. I loved the challenge. “No job too big or small here at Custom Made.”

  I took a look over the particulars with Gareth as the women stood back. I peeked a look at the chestnut-haired beauty. She had her hands in her back pockets, looking over the shop. After a break in the conversation, I spoke.

  “Hey, we haven’t been introduced. I’m Carter, by the way.” I held out my hand. She angled her head at me.

  “Hey, I’m Autumn. I hope you don’t mind. I tagged along for the ride.”

  Hellcat was right. That sexy voice had my cock working overtime to stay down. “No, not at all. Glad you could check it out.”

  Her face was held in a tight smile, but her eyes sparkled.

  “I’ve seen you somewhere before...” I picked through my memory, urgently working to recall where I’d seen her. “At The Red Gorilla! That’s where. You work there, right?”

  Now, her little voluminous lips curved into a real smile. “I would hope so. I own it.”

  That was a shock. “You own it? Wow, that’s cool.”

  Phoebe came over from Magner and Gareth. “Yep. My girl’s a go-getter, that’s for sure. She owns it.”

  I observed them both. Autumn was kind of intimidating. I cleared the frog from my throat. Her sapphire eyes intensified. Her arms were crossed.

  “That’s something,” I said.

  I was sticking to my first impression. A chestnut-haired hellcat.

  Chapter Two: Lining Up The Bait

  The Red Gorilla was pumping, steady and sure. We were in a solid position, and I’d built a reputation around Berkeley. It took me three years to make the transition to running my own place. At twenty-four-years-old, I was doing better than most. All that exotic dancing and late nights paid off in a big way. Now, I owned the spot. I loved my staff, and The Red Gorilla was my second home. At the moment, The Red Gorilla was quiet as we weren’t open yet. Since we didn’t open for breakfast, I had adjusted to being a crazy night-owl woman.

  I flicked on all the lights and dropped my bags in the back. I hummed as I turned the speakers on to some cool house beats. My customers liked that. I heard the back door jangling with keys and knew it was my girl, Phoebe.

  “Hey! Never fear, Phoebe is here.” She was fresh-faced and smelled great. She embraced me with a kiss on the cheek and a hug. I took her under my wing during our stripping days. We went way back.

  “No fear here. Just bar pretzels.”

  I heard her walk away and drop her handbag in the office.

  “You’re cute, boss. You’re looking good as usual.”

  I kept it pretty low key at the bar, for practical reasons. If we had a function, I turned up the heat a notch. I usually wore a low cut tank top, some bling, and tight-fitting jeans with high heels. I could outrun anybody in my stilettos. They were a staple of my closet. Add in my fuschia or ruby-red lipstick with a swish of mascara, and that rounded out my look.

  “Don’t call me that.” I retorted.

  She sprung up beside me, ready to work. “Well, that’s one of the things you are to me. Besides, I couldn’t think of any place I would rather work.”

  I counted the money out and jammed it in the three tills. “You won’t be saying that on Saturday night when Larry tries to jump behind the bar and pour his own drinks.” Phoebe opened her mouth in an O-shape. I threw my head back with laughter and conducted a stock count.

  “That guy!” I said. “Biggest douchebag ever. So glad we kicked him out.”

  “Yeah, if he wasn’t a regular, I would have decked him myself.” She shook her head.

  “So, who was the hottie bike guy? I’m glad you asked me to tag along.”

  Phoebe’s response was closed off. “Just your type. Right?”

  I walked out front to the barstools, giving them a wipe down. “Sure is. And he had a sweet ass. That scruffy bad-boy face with those dimples really does it for me. I wouldn’t mind taking that for a ride, that’s for sure.”

  “I’m sure he wouldn’t object. I think he’s single.”

  I let my naughty mind deviate. What I wanted to do to that guy. He had a nice set of biceps on him, as well. I wondered what the package looked like underneath. I wanted to run my fingers over those abs. They had to match the rest of him. He had a few tattoos in the right places and a nice bald head that I wanted to run my hands over.

  “So, does he come in here a lot? I’ve never seen him in here.”

  Phoebe tested the tap beers and divided up the nuts and pretzels into small dishes. “Yep. He’s in here all the time. Sometimes, he comes in for lunch, and
other times he comes after work.”

  “What do you think of him?” How did I miss that hot luscious body coming through the door of my establishment? I recounted the stock and polished up an already clean glass on the bar.

  Phoebe was onto me, though. “What gives, Autumn? You want him?” She popped a pretzel in her mouth, and one of my staff members entered from the back.

  “I wouldn’t mind testing him out. He’s attractive.” I shrugged. “I wanna get to know him.”

  “Sure. I know exactly what your version of get to know means.”

  “What? I don’t know what on earth you’re talking about,” I replied smugly.

  “Oh, yes, you do. Word around town is that he gets around. He’s got that tough guy thing going on and a bit of a rep. He’s part of a motorcycle club.”

  That wouldn’t stop me. Once I had my eyes fixated on a man, he would be mine. No question. “Oh yeah? Which one?” I asked casually.

  “It’s called California Ryders.”

  I nodded. Food for thought. I’m sure I had all I needed at my parent’s house to get into the motorcycle club. I dropped the subject and greeted my other staff members as they streamed in. The day wore on, and we had a steady flow of customers that was great for a weekday. I had to admit I loved what I’d built. Ever since I started stripping, my colleagues and staff became family to me. I got the opportunity to allow women to express themselves sensually. Plus, they could earn a kick-ass living. Soon, it would be time to look at a second shop.

  Closing time came around, and I walked out to my car. I had things on my mind. A bike for one. My one-of-a-kind father taught me to ride. I couldn’t ask for a better one. I was a daddy’s girl through and through.

  “Now that you’re a big girl at seven and you’ve mastered riding a bicycle,” he’d said to me when I was young, “I think we can upgrade you to the real deal. Don’t tell your mother. She might say you’re too young.”

  He had looked me in the eye with his warm brown eyes. My sister had the same ones. Except, hers were filled with deceit and trickery, not something I liked to dwell on.

  “Daddy! Can I?” I remembered hugging him tightly around the neck. He showed me more about motorbikes in an empty parking lot at the back of Berkeley. He didn’t let me ride the motorbike. He just bought one with a sidecar and took me with him.

  “Yes. You can do it. First, you have to learn all the parts of the bike, so you know what you’re working with.”

  I had watched him in fascination. My father turned everything into gold. He was a real man’s man. I called him up. I wouldn’t just pop by unannounced. They hadn’t seen me in a while, so I knew they would be happy. I switched on my bluetooth and made the call.

  “Hey, old man,” I said.

  A heartwarming chuckle came down the line. “Autumn, is that you?”

  “Yeah, it’s me. I’m on my way over. Got time for your eldest?”

  “Always, baby girl. You’re right on time, in fact. Your mother’s putting on a pot roast. I know she would love to see you, too.”

  “Yum! Hey, is my old bike still there?” I didn’t bother heading home. My parents would take me as I was. Secretly, I hoped my sister Karly wouldn’t be there. She was a pain in the ass and way too competitive.

  “Sure is. Why, honey?”

  California Ryders was about to get its newest member. “I’m going to join a motorcycle club. Time to dust off the cobwebs.”

  “Atta girl! Drive safe and take the back road. There’s an accident on San Pablo Avenue,” my father said.

  “Will do.” That was my father, always looking out for me. I pulled in about thirty minutes later. The front door was ajar, and I strolled in. My mother, who I was the spitting image of except for my hair, turned from the open kitchen.

  “Hey! She’s here.” My mother was my best friend, and we spoke on most days, although I hadn’t spoken to her in the last few. I’d been so busy at work.

  “You look a little weary. Everything okay?”

  I smiled at her. “Pretty good, really. I came on a mission.”

  She stirred something bubbling in a pot that smelled delicious. “I heard. You’re getting back on the bike.”

  “Yup. I’m going down to the garage to take a peek.”

  “Sure. Your father’s already down there, moving a few things around for you.”

  “Okay, great.” I walked downstairs to the garage, and, sure enough, my father was dusting off my bike. The helmet was already sitting beside it. I ran up to him and gave him a bear hug.

  “Hey, baby girl.” He squeezed me tightly and kissed the top of my head. “Are you ready to ride, or do you need a few refresher lessons?”

  “You still riding, Daddy?”

  He sighed. “Not as much as I would like. But if you’re riding, I want to join you.”

  “Sounds good. Let’s get together next week.”

  His handsome face beamed.

  “You’re looking good, Daddy. Salt-and-pepper hair suits you.” I smiled at him.

  “Well, gotta work with what you got.” He ruffled his hair and pulled at his eye. “I don’t know about these wrinkles, though.”

  I rubbed his arm, grinning at him. “They only make you more endearing, and you got yourself a deal about riding.”

  I made my way over to the bike and sat on it. I could feel the power of the machine. I couldn’t wait to get behind it and really go for it. I had a Harley Davidson Sportster, the superlow version, custom painted pink. I had gotten it for my twenty-fifth birthday two years ago. I left it at my parent’s place as a reminder to go riding with my father. With the quick growth of my business, though, I had to put riding on the backburner.

  “Hey, we better get back up there before your mother thinks aliens abducted us.”

  I grinned. “All right, let’s go.”

  During dinner, we ended up having an animated discussion.

  My mother said, “It’s a shame Karly couldn’t make it.”

  Such a shame. Not. “It’s nice to see you guys. I’ve missed you. Work has been bananas,” I said.

  My mother touched my forearm. I put my hand over hers. “Nice to see you too, sweety.”

  “What do you think of my hair, hon? Autumn said the salt and pepper looked good on me.” My father put his hands on his hips and lifted his chin like a model. We all broke into laughter.

  “I think it does look great, babe, but don’t quit your day job!” my mother said.

  “Honey, I’m retired.” He looked around and put his hands in the air.

  “Oh, you still have a job to do, buddy. You’ve got all those leaves to rake in the front yard, for one thing.” My mother flashed him a loving look.

  My father cringed. “That’s right. I forgot about that. Whoops!”

  “That pot roast filled the spot, Ma.”

  “Thank you, wonderful daughter. You’re welcome here any time,” my mother said.

  “So, do you want me to put the bike on the trailer and drop it off?” my dad asked.

  I was full of pot roast and ready to make tracks back home. “Would you? That would be great, Pops.” I kissed him on the cheek.

  “Done. I’ll follow you home with it.”

  I looked at him. “You can just drop it off on the weekend. I’m not heading over to join the club ‘till then.”

  “Let your old dad do this. I don’t have to be anywhere tomorrow, anyway. Relax.”

  I smiled. “If you insist. Bye, Mom!” I yelled with my keys dangling in my hand.

  “Bye, honey. Take care. Talk to you tomorrow.”

  “Okay.”

  Just like that, I had my old bike back and was ready to seduce my next prey—Carter.

  The next few days went by in a blur. By the time the weekend came, I was ready to go sign up with the California Ryders. I decided to take it to the next level. I wore my black leather bodice. My boobs made an entrance when I wore it, sitting as a nice comfortable shelf with a groove in it. I wanted to make a splash
. I wore my biker boots and a black leather jacket. I sprayed a dash of my best perfume, added my femme fatale firetruck lipstick, and applied my Kohl black eyeliner.

  It was my first time back on the bike in a while, so I eased into it. It felt good to have the wind blowing across my face. I rolled up around ten in the morning for an eleven o’clock ride. A nice crowd of about thirty riders was there. I strolled in, swaying my hips. I caught a lot of tongues hanging out of mouths and a few wolf whistles. I gave them a friendly finger wave. I had one main target. I looked around the lot of all the bikes lined up. Sure enough, Carter was near the main hall entrance and putting his bike gloves on. I made my way over. He looked good enough to eat, especially with that diamond stud in his ear and in those tight jeans.

  “Oh, hey! I didn’t know you were part of this club.” I decided to play dumb.

  Carter smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes as he watched me approach. “Hey. Autumn, right?”

  I flicked my dark hair over my shoulder and poked out my chest. He watched and again didn’t flinch.

  “Yeah, that’s right. I gotta sign up. So, I’ll see you around.”

  I gave him a side turn as I walked away. I frowned to myself, puzzled by what happened. Doubt crept into my mind. I peered down at my outfit. I thought I looked pretty damn hot. I reached the main registration window, and an older guy greeted me. Now, he noticed. He couldn’t get his eyes off my hoo-hahs.

  “Nice to see you. And that’s a nice, ah, bike you got there. The Sportster rides great on the open road. Are you here to sign up?”

  I fluffed out my long locks, and the man’s eyes widened. I had my helmet in my hand. “You betcha. Where do I sign?”

  He scrambled around his desk for a pen. His face was a definite shade of red. He appeared to be flustered behind the window, but he eventually got himself together. “Ah, here you go. Just take a look over this document and sign. Plus, there’s a list of rides and cookouts we have coming up. Members take turns hosting.” He coughed and tried really hard to keep his eyes on my face.

  I smiled with amusement. Men were such predictable creatures. “Okie-dokie. There you go.”