I turned to look for Lu and I saw the tousled mop and the gray eyes from the shadows in the bar. An urge made me want to leap on the biker’s big, strong body and hug him. Hug him and much, much more. I wanted to feel his strength under his jacket and his sweatshirt. I wanted to find what was inside his jeans.
I almost did it. By ‘almost,’ I mean I actively had to stop myself from diving at him. By the wry, impish smile that stretched across his face, I think he knew it.
I ran out of the barn and into the cool night air outside. Lu and I had come to buy drugs, but I didn’t seem to need any. What were these dark and alien emotions? These uncontrolled and unconscious displays of mine, where did they come from? Suddenly I felt as though I didn’t know myself.
I realized that I hadn’t spotted Lu as I had rushed through the bikers to get out of the barn. I thought that I should probably go back in and find her, but as I looked back, I saw her in the darkness by the side of the barn.
She was with the tall, rangy biker who she had been talking to in the bar. They were pressed up tightly against each other. Their hands seemed to be working frantically in each other’s jeans. Their hips rocked in flowing waves and their thighs entwined and strained together.
Was I the only girl here who wasn’t actually having sex right now? If so, why? My pussy was aching, practically screaming for it. I was so confused and disturbed, I just wanted desperately to get out of there, but my ride was busy getting herself ridden.
I knew how conspicuous I was, though. Lu or the girls the bar could shake their bodies on biker cock and nobody was going to turn a hair. I was terrified, and pretty sure that if I did anything like that, I’d have to deal with the whole bar’s attention.
I couldn’t win. And I couldn’t stand it. I called out, “LU!”
She turned to look at me and her face burned with rage.
u was furious with me all the way back to town. Why didn’t I just hang out and chill? Or, why couldn’t I have just waited in the car? Or spent some fun time with any one of the bikers there? “Their eyes were all drinking you down like bourbon. You could have let yourself off the leash for a little bit of fun, couldn’t you? Just for fucking once in your life, Christa?”
Okay, so I learned a lot of things that night. Most of them were things I had been perfectly happy not knowing, like one of my best friends thought I was a prissy, uptight little madam. But hey fucking ho, c'est la fucking vie, eh?
Mainly I discovered that there were a whole lot of emotions seething beneath the surface of myself that I had simply never encountered before, and that was a big shock. The way that I had felt watching those two boxers slugging at each other was completely out of the blue.
And the way that I’d almost been ready to join that girl sucking off the biker in public, in a bar, in front of whoever. I had no idea that would be my reaction. Or jump on that biker. What had I even seen of him? His size, his shape. His eyes.
Lu and I put on the best faces we could for Mandy’s birthday, but both of us were preoccupied. When we told Mandy what had happened, she said, “Well, that place sounds great. Let’s finish these drinks and head back there,” but I couldn’t face it and even Lu could see that it was too late for a week night.
At the club, some guys came to our table to buy us drinks, et cetera, but even though they were probably a year or two older than us and they looked the smart, professional types, somehow they just seemed like schoolboys to me.
Lu became more miserable with each drink, and so we all agreed to cut the evening, go home and rest up for the next day. My disturbed dreams began that night.
On my way home next evening I passed the thrift store and saw in the window an old black worn and battered leather jacket. I tried it with a little black lacy crop top, and the girl in the store suggested a pair of jeans with rips straight across the thighs.
When I got home, I tried it all on again, just to see how it looked. I had a pile of marking and preparation to do for tomorrow’s lessons, but it wouldn’t hurt just to take a look.
I decided that the denims would be better with the legs cut right off. I cut them and frayed the edges. Maybe I cut them a bit too short. The cheeks of my buttocks curved out below the edges, but I liked the shape. I thought they could look better with dark tights.
The tights somehow got a little torn as I put them on. But even like that, I thought they looked pretty fine. I tried a band in my hair to hold it up. Maybe it would work with some mascara, darker than I normally used, and deep red lipstick.
Looking in my long mirror at the whole look, with the little leather jacket, really excited me. I looked like a different girl. A woman. I turned to look at the curve of my ass, the swell of my breasts, pointing out at the edges of the jacket. And my eyes. I loved the smoky look of my eyes with the mascara.
I wanted so much to try out the look in the biker bar. The marking wasn’t going anywhere. Just one drink. It couldn’t do any harm. Homelee High got enough of my energy and dedication for the pittance they paid me. I deserved an hour to myself. Just one drink.
The clubhouse seemed to be farther out of town than I remembered it and, as I parked up, it looked bigger. Seeing the line of bikes gave me a strange stirring sensation, deep and low.
I felt the cool air through the rips in my tights, inside the sides of the cut-off denim and inside the open leather jacket. My breasts scraped irritably against the sheer bra in the loose, lacy top.
As I pulled the door to the bar open, the rising roar music and biker growls was like a familiar greeting. As I made my way to the bar, I didn’t feel at home exactly, but I didn’t have all of the sensations of being out of place that I’d had the night before.
One very large, bearded, barrel-chested biker made a show of not letting me by, and I wasn’t completely sure whether he was being playful or threatening. I guess that in here that line probably blurs some.
The attention that I got from the other bikers that I passed was more like recognition than surprise. If the girls there noticed me, it was no more than noticing. The suspicion and hostility that I’d felt before weren’t there now.
The barman was friendly. I don’t know how many big bikers were waiting to get served, but he came straight to me and, I think, they all approved. I asked him for bourbon.
I rolled the smoky, copper liquid around the thick, heavy tumbler. I liked the way that the light danced in the thick bottom of the glass and savored the deep, spicy aroma. The first hit lit up my throat and I felt its charge all the way down.
Feeling good, I went out back to check out the barn. The big barn was silent and the door was tight shut. I took another nip of my whiskey and turned back, a little deflated.
“Looking for a fight?” A big voice rasped behind me. As I turned, I was faced with the huge barrel chest and wiry beard of the biker who’d obstructed me inside the bar.
“No, I was just… looking,” I said.
“So you’re in search of some entertainment. I know a game we can play.”
“No. Thanks. I just came for one quick drink, and now I have to be…”
He stepped in closer. Involuntarily I stepped back. I stumbled. He caught my arm. My eyes were just about level with the bottom of his chest. He pulled me up, higher. I said, “Look, I have to go now, okay?”
He said, “Aw, but we haven’t got to know each other yet. And I haven’t showed you my game.” He pulled me up even higher. My shoulder was starting to hurt. “And you haven’t had a fight yet.”
A quiet but strong voice, liquid like syrup and low like a bassline, came from behind the big biker. “Vigger, I know you’re respectful to ladies at your clubhouse, and you know that we are here, too. You won’t forget that you’re a guest, will you.”
The big guy turned as he let me down. Behind him, I knew--I don’t know how, but I knew, and I was right. I felt such a charge to see his watery gray eyes that my thighs trembled and my knees felt as if they had turned to water.
Vigger said, “
Lady was looking for a fight, Ax.” The two men faced each other. Vigger was taller, thicker and much heavier. I started to speak, but I saw Ax’s hand move and I kept quiet. Vigger said, “We could give her what she wants, Ax. Couldn’t we?”
This was escalating out of control. I drew a breath to say that I had to leave, but while his eyes remained locked with Vigger’s, Ax’s hand told me to stay quiet and still.
Ax spoke evenly to Vigger and I felt his voice like it was pouring through. “That’s what you want, is it, Vigger?”
Vigger said, “I feel like you insulted me in front of company here.”
Ax chewed the inside of his lip as Vigger went on. “Anyway, it would liven up the evening, wouldn’t it? I always thought there should more than one fight night a week here.”
I could see that Ax would either have to accept and fight bareknuckle with the much bigger man, or he’d have to back down. I didn’t know much about biker culture, close to nothing in fact, but I thought I knew which way his decision would go.
One drink. I was supposed to be out for one drink. Now, gray-eyed Ax was going to go bareknuckle against massive Vigger, and I was thinking that I should get back to my marking. Well, you boys have fun! I have to go read two dozen essays about pilgrims. Play nice now. Yeah, right.
The bar practically emptied into the barn, and there was an a different, stronger electricity that the night before. The tall biker with the bandana came loping over to me. “Lu not with you tonight?” I don’t think he’d forgiven me for taking her away. Neither had she, in all probability.
He said, “You putting a bet on for Ax?” I felt so out of my depth here, but he was effectively fighting as my champion. The thought stirred me deep down as I thought about it. The biker said, “Two gets you five on him to win.” I fished up a twenty and he wrote me a slip.
What was I doing here?
The two men stripped to the waist and in the ring. Their bulging muscles were covered in evil ink. They had taped their hands up and faced each other from opposite sides of the raised platform.
An older man in a sweatshirt stepped up and looked like he was going to act as a referee. He shouted, “Brothers. Vigger represents the Dirt Riders MC, and our own vice president, Ax, represents Axes MC. We’ll have a clean fight, unless they opt for a dirty one.”
Ax and Vigger approached the center of the ring, bouncing on their toes. The referee held up his arm and the room became still. After a few seconds, he moved back and swung his arm down.
That instant, Vigger swung a big, wide slam to Ax’s temple. Ax’s head swung sickeningly. He raised his arms back up as he reeled, but Vigger slung blows at him from left and right, exploiting Ax’s confusion.
Ax kept his left arm bent out in front of him, and his right closer in front of his face. He blocked Vigger’s fists, but the effort seemed to be wearing him down already. The two men bobbed and circled, but Ax was looking heavier on his feet.
They continued to circle, but Vigger was clearly setting the pace. He didn’t get a solid blow past Ax’s arms and fists, but he was in control of the fight. Ax hardly attempted a blow past Vigger’s defense, only connecting with the bigger man’s arms and wrists.
Then Vigger ducked low to swing a punch at Ax’s stomach. Ax got his hand to Vigger’s arm and deflected it, but Vigger had a jab waiting. Ax saw the punch coming and pulled his head back to avoid it. Vigger stepped forward and hooked his ankle behind Ax’s.
Ax hit the canvas on his back. Vigger stepped in again, but the referee was there. He called the end of the round. I was shaking. The biker with the bandana was standing next to me. He said, “Your twenty isn’t looking too safe, is it?”
“Aren’t you both in the same club?” I asked him, “Are you betting against your fellow member?”
The biker smiled, “Nope. I laid your bet off with one of my own. You lose, I lose.”
“You laid it off?”
“Yup.” He grinned and looked over at a clutch of bikers with the Dirt Rider patch on their backs. He raised a bottle of Jack Daniels to them. He smiled back to me and said, “The fat guy gave me four to one.”
The referee was moving back to the middle of the ring. Two bikers stood around Ax. They patted him on the back and handed him a gum shield. He hunched and bounced his way back to the center.
From the other corner, Vigger came out swinging his arms and waving to his friends around the barn and a cheer went up. The referee signaled the start of the round.
The two big men hunched and danced around each other. Vigger still seemed to be driving the fight. As they bounced around the ring, Vigger leaned farther forwards and Ax didn’t bounce as high. Ax was mostly able to fend him off, but he only got a few blows against Vigger.
Ax made jabs at Vigger’s body, his face, and his head, and he kept Vigger working hard to keep him out, but the blows didn’t connect. The crowd grew impatient and shouted at the fighters as the bobbed and circled around the ring.
Both men were sweating hard. I was close enough to the ring to feel the spray of their sweat. The shouts from around the barn swelled and Vigger speeded up his advance.
He exploded a volley of punches straight at Ax’s face. Ax backed away from the onslaught, but he caught two hard blows on his forehead. I heard the tall biker beside me shouting, and I realized that I was yelling, too.
As Vigger stepped forward, Ax ducked and slung a fist hard into Vigger’s gut. Vigger slumped over the punch and Ax got a punch to the bigger man’s head. Vigger staggered and Ax’s fist drew back for another punch, but the referee stepped between them and called the round.
A groan went up from the crowd and the tall biker and I were a part of it. The biker with the bandanna said, “Ax could have had the fight there, and now Vigger has time to recover himself.” His teeth clenched. He offered me the bottle of Jack, and I took a swig from it.
I thanked him for the drink. “You’re welcome,” he said, and introduced himself as Tag.
The fighters were coming back to the center. Both looked weary, but there was fire in their eyes. Tag said, “Three rounds only, so this is it. Vigger’s ahead from the first two, so if one of them doesn’t land a killer punch, Vigger’s going to have it.”
The referee’s hand went down and he stepped back to start the final round. Vigger stepped right into Ax’s guard and got in a fast punch above the eye. Ax stepped back uncertainly, and he left Vigger enough space for another hammer blow to the same spot.
Ax stepped back and his guard was back up, but I gasped as he shook his head and I saw drops of blood spinning off him. He took two strides backwards and Vigger lunged forward. Ax moved back a little farther and, as Vigger advanced, he was briefly off balance.
Ax banged Vigger’s body with a rattle of blows to the chest and stomach. As Vigger fought for breath, Ax dove under his guard and slammed a fist up into the big man’s jaw. His body went up, backwards and down. The floor shook as he dropped like a felled tree on the canvas in front of me.
I jumped and shouted, I couldn’t help myself. I hugged Tag. I took another pull from his bottle and I yelled. I looked up through the gloom and the smoke and across the ring I saw Ax’s gray eyes looking back at me. One eye was swelling shut. For an instant, for a thudding beat, it was like time had stopped.
He was panting. I ran to him. His eyes were on me all the way. As I got nearer, I could see, under the glistening sheen of sweat, his muscles were raked with marks and bruises. Marks, cuts and swellings marred his cheek, his jaw and his lips.
I ran faster when I saw the ugly bleeding lump above his eye. The swelling made him look apologetic, although he was anything but. He rose as I reached out to him. He stood, tall wide, bloodied, hard and hot.
As I threw my arms around him, I was shocked by how wide he was. How tall. How rippled. And how hard.
His breath was like the urgent stroke of a piston. As my soft body pressed against him, I felt the throbbing in his hard, bulging muscles. The rigid slab of his stomach and
the round thrust of his pecs zinged with his pulse.
His heart slammed in his chest, and mine beat against it. The slick, wet heat of his salty chest seared my cheek. The animal smell of him made me burn with desire. Against the soft flutter of my stomach, I felt the massive weight of his uncoiling lust.
I almost wept at the sight of the angry wound over his eye. My voice shook as I told him, “I need to dress that for you.”
He said, “It’s nothing. But there’s something I want you to undress.”
My lips trembled as I stretched up to his mouth. The echoing noise and the jostling heat of the crowd in the smoky barn had faded away and I felt, tasted, smelled and heard only him as my quivering, swollen lips puckered towards his.
Two Hitmen: A Double Bad Boy Mafia Romance (Lawless Book 1) Page 55