Quickly putting two and two together, I ask, “That’s the girl? She survived?” I shake my head in bemusement, wondering what cold fuck could have done such a thing.
“Apparently, yeah.” Drummer wipes his hand over his face, “She’s already been through some shit, as you’ve all just seen. She’s in a fuckin’ wheelchair. The fucker who put her there is comin’ after her again. Presumably to finish the job.”
Fuck! That’s serious shit. “She’s not safe in England?”
“According to Horse, she’s not. This motherfucker’s got a long fuckin’ reach. Mouse!” Drummer gets the attention of a man who looks absolutely nothing like his name would suggest, but who’s our expert with computers and all that shit. As usual, he’s got a laptop open in front of him. “Find out everythin’ you can about an Ethan St John fuckin’ Davies. See what whether this is going to blow back on us if we take her in.”
“One English motherfucker against us?” Viper sneers. Just turned forty, he’s one of our older members.
Drummer rubs his fingers through his long dark hair, already beginning to turn grey at his temples even though he’s a couple of years younger than Viper. “We need to know what we’re up against. Can’t see there being much of a problem myself, as you say. One fuckin’ Brit shouldn’t be a problem.”
Dart’s nodding, “At least the club’s set up for a wheelchair.”
“Yeah, all the ramps are still in place, we didn’t take those out.”
“Damn useful for getting bikes in the clubroom!” Everyone laughs. Yup, that’s been done. And into ground floor bedrooms as well. While the original resort had to comply with disabled access, it made it fucking handy for us bikers too.
“Alright, alright. Come to fuckin’ order!” Drummer glares around the table and we all simmer down. “Do we want to wait until Mouse has done his stuff before we take a vote? VP?”
Now we’re not a club who deals in pussy―we don’t go after women or children―that’s in our by-laws. And from that short, disturbing video, the fucker he’s talking about has already has harmed this woman beyond what any of us would deem acceptable. Quickly I think it through and look around at my brothers sitting at the table. A number of us served in the military and are no strangers to violence or protecting our own. And if we offer protection to Horse’s woman, she’ll by extension become one of ours. As far as I’m concerned, it’s an easy decision to make, but I don’t want to rush into it. “Do we know how long she’ll want to hide out here?”
Drum shakes his head, “I don’t think Horse knows. It all happened in a rush, but she’s already been paid a visit―luckily he was there at the time―and he thinks she’s in real danger, so he’s in a rush to get her away. His small crew ain’t enough over there. This St John-Davies apparently has a lot of muscle he can call on.”
Growls now replace the earlier light remarks, and I know my brothers are with me when I give him my answer, “Let her come. How much trouble can one woman be, particularly with Horse vouchin’ for her? It’s on him, though; she’s his responsibility.”
Drum’s eyes circle the table, and he gives a sharp nod. Not one to make hasty decisions I suspect he’s already given some thought on this as he wastes no time giving his view, “Right. I happen to agree with the VP. As long as she knows we ain’t putting on fuckin’ airs and graces just because we’ve got an English bitch in the clubhouse! But we’ll do this fuckin’ right and vote on it.”
There are no objections; it’s all ayes as Drum gets votes from those seated around the table and the motion passes unanimously. It’s settled, we’re giving the woman our protection.
Drummer has the final word, “VP, you’ll get the prospects sortin’ out rooms for Horse and this woman?”
“On it, Prez.”
“Mouse, I want that info immediately once you’ve got it.”
“Yeah, man.”
“Right, now get on out of here.” With a bang of the gravel, church is officially and finally dismissed.
Various shouts of ‘party’, ‘pussy’ and ‘fuck yeah’ fill the air as one by one we all vacate the room. The main topic of conversation on most of our lips is predictably the mystery woman.
Beef, a solid tank of a man built like the ox that gives him his name, slaps me on the back in a way that makes me wish he hadn’t. “You reckon her pussy still works?”
“Keep your hands to you fuckin’ self!” I round on him, my eyes flaring even while I’m not entirely sure why I’m feeling defensive about a woman I’ve not even met, but put it down to following the instructions of my prez. “You saw what happened to her. She’s been through enough without you plannin’ how to get into her fuckin’ panties!”
“You know me, up for a challenge and all that. You think Horse is already tappin’ that?”
“Nah, man, Horse don’t want no woman after his ol’ lady died. Makes use of club pussy, but he don’t want no bitch on the back of his bike again.” Heart is the one who’d understand; he’s so in love with his woman it makes me cringe when I see them canoodling, though admittedly they’ve made one cute as fuck kid together. First brother I’ve known not to run a mile when he saw two little blue lines.
“Never knew he had an ol’ lady?” Beef asks, it’s not unusual for him to be the last to know.
“Yeah,” I bring him up to speed, “Nasty business, she was killed in a car accident. Hit and run on a pedestrian crossin’. She was DOA and never had a fuckin’ chance.” At least this woman’s still breathing even if she is broken.
That’s enough for Beef. If it isn’t attached to a pussy or bike he doesn’t want to know. He gives me another hefty slap then walks smartly away, his attention and cock drawn to the city girls who’ve started to arrive. The conversation has me wondering whether Horse’s desire to protect the girl has something to do with his dead wife, it wouldn’t surprise me. Maybe he’s making amends for the woman he couldn’t save.
“You alright with this, VP?” Drummer’s come up next to me, and putting his arm over my shoulder, leads me over to the bar. The prospects fall over themselves to get us our drinks before we can ask for them. As they should do, if they prove themselves to the club eventually they’ll get patched in, and knowing which brother drinks what is part of their duties. Beer quickly put into my hand; I turn to him, “Do we know anythin’ else about her, Prez?”
“Not a lot, Horse was damn worried, though.” And that concerns me. Now none of us is exactly fairy-like, but Horse gives Beef a run for his money. If a big man like him can’t protect a woman, there might be more to the story than we know. While not exactly a chapter, Horse is a member of an associate club of ours in England, and if they’re not confident they can handle the shit going down in their country, we shouldn’t dismiss it lightly. My main unease is caused by the thought that in our hurry to give sanctuary to an unknown girl, we’ll be bringing a heap of shit down on ourselves. But then, as I give a quick look around at my brothers, all of which are now finding entertainment in various ways, I doubt it’s anything we won’t be able to handle. There’s only one man in this club who I wouldn’t trust with my life, and he’s currently not in the room.
It’s as if Drum has read my mind. Stroking his beard now flecked with a little grey, he says thoughtfully, “Buster didn’t turn up. You think he’s got pussy somewhere?”
“Wouldn’t put it past him.” Turning back to face him, I give a shake of my head. Buster’s being far too much of a pain in my ass lately.
“Well find out why he wasn’t here, and fine him if he ain’t got good reason. All members attend church, even those heathens in Cali must know that.”
Buster recently transferred in from our San Diego chapter, but as part of the same club, we all follow the same basic rules and regs. “I’ll have a chat with him, Drum,” I assure him while wishing Buster wasn’t causing me so much trouble. As if in synchronised motion, we both drain our drinks at the same time, and turn together to look out into the club. I reckon Drummer’s go
t the same idea in mind as me.
Heart and Bullet’s old ladies aren’t here, of course, party time after church is not for their eyes or ears. And I doubt Viper’s old lady would take kindly to seeing her old man’s cock disappearing down the throat of Pussy, one of our most popular, or at least well used, sweet butts. But she’ll never find out; brothers know not to share that shit. Me, I’m not tied to anyone and have no desire to be.
After my long ride today I cast my eyes round to see who’s going to take my fancy tonight, one of the new girls or… Ah, there’s Chrissy making a beeline towards me as usual. It crosses my mind that perhaps I shouldn’t encourage her else she might start getting ideas above her station, but, fuck it; I might as well go for it tonight. She’s not as tight as she could be, but damn it, she can suck like a vacuum, and has hair down to her ass. My fist tightens in anticipation of wrapping it round her long locks as she’s on her knees in front of me, plump ass in the air as I pound into her wet cunt. Yeah, that’ll do me. Thoughts of the Englishwoman forgotten, I nod at Drum, who’s already got his eyes on Jill, currently sitting on Rock’s lap, and I give him a knowing nudge. Jill’s into twosomes, threesomes you name it, and Rock doesn’t mind sharing at all. Reckon our prez is fixed for the night as well. Devils know how to party.
Without ceremony or small talk, I snag another beer, push away from the bar, and grab Chrissy’s hand. She’s got a cocky smile on her face as I lead her away. While not adverse to performing in public, tonight I feel like playing in my room.
Chrissy’s fingers entwine with mine as we go out into the night air and up to the block where my room’s situated, her touch just a little too intimate for my liking. She’s someone to scratch my itch, nothing more than that. Opening my door, I pull her inside and waste no time getting her over to the bed. Reaching up her hands, she tries to pull my head down to hers, her intention obviously to initiate a kiss. Well, I’ve got no time for that shit and just want to get down to business. The ride was long and hard today, and now I just want another of a different sort. Keeping my face well away from hers―for all I know she’s just given one of the other brothers a blow job―I flip her onto her stomach, undo the zip on her tiny skirt and pull it down, taking her panties along with it.
“Up,” I tell her shortly.
Knowing what I want, she pulls herself to her knees and takes off her top and bra. Reaching around her I palm her breasts, but my enjoyment is diminished knowing they’re artificial and don’t quite feel like the real thing. But her ass is pretty enough, and the fact there’s a naked body in my bed is sufficient to make me hard enough to perform.
“You ready, darlin’?”
At her breathy confirmation, I wait no longer, opening the drawer to take out a condom and smoothing it on in one well-practiced move. Tapping her ass and putting my hand under her stomach, she takes the hint and pushes her face to the pillows, her back bowing as she offers herself to me.
Checking she’s wet enough―she is―I push inside, and start hammering away with only one intention, to get my release. As I thrust I’m not really aware who it is under me, it could be Jill, Allie or Pussy here instead. All of them know the score. But as I feel my balls start to boil and that tingling sensation starting in my spine I know I’m close, and not being a bastard, want to make sure the woman I’m with gets hers too.
She’s moaning, pushing back into me, her muscles tightening.
“You close?” I ask.
“Yeah,” comes her breathy confirmation.
Reaching my hand down I start to toy with her clit.
“That’s it… Yeah… Oh, Wraith!”
As she comes with a little scream, I drive in hard a couple of times and then that blessed feeling as cum shoots up into the condom. Fuck, I needed that!
I roll off her, tying off the condom and dropping it by the side of the bed to dispose of later. Lying on my back, my arm up thrown up over my face, I wait for my breathing to slow and giving her a moment to recover. Before too long I feel her hand on my now flaccid cock. I put mine on top of hers, stilling her wandering fingers.
“It’s alright, darlin’, I’m done.”
Opening my eyes I see her pouting, “But Wraith, how about I suck you off?”
“Not tonight, darlin’”
“But…”
I put my fingers over her mouth, not wanting to hear her whining. “I said no.” I wait for her to move off the bed, get her clothes and go. She knows the score. But instead, she lies back down and snuggles beside me. I scoot away from her. “Chrissy, I said no. I’ve had a long day, and I’m tired.”
“Just let me stay with you then, Wraith.”
What the fuck? Club whores know not to push when a brother’s finished with them. The smell of sweat and sex mixed with the overpowering perfume she’s wearing is getting to me, and not in a good way. I just want her out of here so I can have a shower and grab a beer out of the mini-fridge in the corner of my room. Sitting up, I gather her clothes still scattered over the bed and floor where they’d landed and chuck them at her.
“Just get dressed and go.” I’m starting to sound fractious, but she’s irritating me now.
“Wraith, I like you. A lot,” she starts, her voice sounding breathy like a little girl’s. Totally put on. “I was wonderin’…”
Whatever she’s been thinking about, I don’t want to hear it.
“Chrissy,” I growl, and from the way she sits back, I’m at last getting through to her, “You’ve been a sweet butt long enough to know how this goes. Now if you’re not dressed in thirty seconds, I’m throwin’ you out of here naked.” I wouldn’t be the first of my brothers to do that.
That gets her moving, but not before she exaggeratedly wipes fake tears from her eyes. As I watch her dress it dawns on me I might have been using her too often lately, and realise I haven’t seen her with any other brother recently. Fuck, has she got designs on me? I make a mental note to avoid her, at least for the time being. Although it rarely, if ever happens, the dream of a sweet butt is to become a member’s old lady, and if the brother is an officer, so much the better. I’ve got no desire to take anyone as an old lady anytime soon―if ever―and I’m certainly not going to be taking one who’s serviced all my brothers. Uh, uh.
Chapter 3
Sophie
I haven’t a bloody clue what’s going on! When I asked Horse what the hell he meant by saying he was taking me somewhere out of Ethan’s reach, he just grinned, then asked me if I had some lighter clothing for warmer weather. Open-mouthed, I pointed upstairs, to that domain of my house where I can no longer go. Now, overhead, I can hear bumping, doors and drawers opening and shutting so presume he’s rifling through my summer clothes. God, I should tell him to stop―what if he packs my old shorts and skirts? They’ll be useless now! Surely he wouldn’t be so crass?
Cut’s stayed, presumably in case Hargreaves returns before we leave. They’d had one of those conversations in man language using grunts, nods and the raising of eyebrows, so I suspect he knows full well where Horse intends to take me. But neither will let me in on the secret. The small smirk that Cut can’t hide entirely suggests I might not jump at the idea.
As the noise from the upper floor continues, I think back to the day I last saw my friend, and remember the little Zoe had managed to tell me. But she hadn’t had any need to use words, one look at her blackened eyes and the way she was holding herself showed me the pain she was in. Ethan is a bastard, and now his focus of attention is on me. A shiver runs down my spine as I acknowledge how helpless and useless I am, and my only option seems to be to rely on Horse to keep me out of his reach.
So wherever he’s taken me, I’ll go along. What choice do I have?
“Right,” Horse comes back down the stairs and into the lounge, he’s found my suitcase that was on the top of my wardrobe and it’s already packed full of clothes. “I think I’ve got everything you need from upstairs. Toiletries and that shit?”
“In the bathroom,
” I point to the converted wet room social services have made from out of my downstairs toilet, it’s not huge, but big enough for me get in to do the necessary even in my wheelchair. “Er, can I check what you’ve packed?”
Throwing me a curious look, he puts the suitcase down unzips it, then picks out some clothing and shows it to me. I have to admit; he’s done fairly well. He’s packed T-shirts, light jumpers, a couple of pairs of smart trousers and leggings; nothing that would be too short and not cover my stump and prosthesis.
“What’s that?” I wave at what he’s not showing me. His mouth turns up with a beguiling smile, and he lifts out all my sexy underwear I possess―and it’s quite a lot: lacy knickers, fancy thong and bra sets and even a handful of teddies. Not that I have any use for them nowadays, but in my previous life, it’s all I’d think of wearing. You never know when you might meet an attractive electrician in a broom cupboard. “No,” I protest, shaking my head violently. “You can put that lot back!” Those days are long gone now. “My everyday stuff is in the bedroom.” No need to wear anything now that’s not utilitarian and comfortable.
“Aw, shucks. You never know when it might come in handy.” Ignoring me, he examines the contents of the suitcase again.
“What about shoes?” Cut cuts in, “You haven’t got any, Horse.”
“I couldn’t find any.” Horse frowns, seemingly not happy at the implied criticism.
“I can’t wear them.” At their twin flabbergasted expressions, I explain, “I only have one pair, the ones the prosthesis for fitted for.” As they exchange glances, I hate reading the sympathy there. And yes, another thing I regret with all my heart. I used to have a shoe fetish, buying new pairs to go with almost every new outfit, mostly high heels. One of my friends cleared the lot out for me very early on. They reminded me too much of what I had lost.
Getting off the topic of footwear, I point Horse in the direction of the kitchen. “I’ll need my meds, Horse. Could you make sure you’ve got them? They’re in a plastic container on the side.”
Turning Wheels (Satan's Devils MC #1): A Blood Brothers Spin off Page 5