SLAM HER

by Jaxson Kidman

  “Then you don’t know how hard is was,” I said. “I can’t stop thinking about King now. How he sits there, the only thing to look at being the ink on his arm with the Reap, knowing he’s going to die.”

  “That’s honor.”

  “That is honor,” I said. I thumbed over my shoulder to the restaurant. “And back there is pussy. I’m going to get it. I’m going to eat it. I’m going to fuck it. I’m going to savor it.”

  “Amen to that,” Knox said.

  Knox started his ride and took off, thundering down the road.

  I then walked to the back of the restaurant and patiently waited for my moment to come.

  Lucky for me, I didn’t have to wait long.

  There were two other waitresses outside when Belle came out the backdoor. The second she saw me, she froze. It was a risk because she could have darted back inside and called the police. But she didn’t. She just stood there.

  I walked to the table and put out my smoke. I looked to the other two waitresses and nodded. “Back inside, right?”

  They both stood and did as I said.

  I enjoyed when the world listened to my command.

  I then grabbed a chair and slid it back. “How’s your night, babe?”

  “What do you want?” she asked.

  “I can’t say hi to you?”

  “I don’t even know you,” she said.

  “That’s okay. I barely know you. That’s why I’m here, babe. To fix that.”

  “Stop calling me babe.”

  “Can’t do that.”

  “Why?”

  “I just can’t.” I moved toward her. She stepped back. I loved this game. “The truth, Belle, is that I wanted to make sure you’re okay from what happened before. With that asshole that smacked your ass.”

  “I’m fine,” she said.

  “And your ass?”

  She took another step back. She swallowed hard.

  “What?” I asked. “I’m very worried about your ass. It happens to be a very nice ass. Just so you know.”

  “You need to leave.”

  “No I don’t. I bet your night is all fucked up right now.” Her back hit the wall and she was now stuck. Trapped. Vulnerable. I inched closer like snake to prey. “Tell me what you’re thinking right now.”

  “That guy,” Belle said. “What did you do?”

  I lifted my hand and showed her my knuckles. “What do you think?”

  “Why?”

  “Because he touched your ass. I could tell you didn’t want that to happen.”

  “So you’re a vigilante now? Like some superhero?”

  “No, babe, I’m far from a superhero,” I said. “I’m a villain. I’m the baddest of bad. I beat the living shit out of that asshole that touched your ass. Wanna know why?”

  I was so close I could smell her. The lingering scent of the restaurant mixed with something flowery. Shit, if I wanted to I could have stolen myself a kiss or two. But I didn’t. This kind of honey was best left for just a little while longer. I wanted her boiling over, spilling, gushing for me. By the time the first flick of my tongue crested her clit she would already be coming.

  “Why?” Belle whispered.

  “Because nobody is allowed to touch your ass. That ass, babe, is all mine.”

  I leaned in a little more and gave her a peck on the cheek.

  Then I backed away and pulled out my smokes.

  “Want one?” I asked.

  “No,” she said.

  I smiled, telling myself that after her first time with me she’d need the whole pack.

  I lit up, took a drag, and pointed to her. “You ever need anything, babe, you know where to find me. Don’t forget me now because I sure as fuck ain’t gonna forget you. Got that?”

  Just like a good girl, Belle slowly nodded at me.

  I tossed a pack of matches to the table. They had the name and address of the garage on them.

  “Your car is probably overdue for an oil change,” I said. “I’ll take care of that, personally.”

  I turned and walked away, leaving her speechless.

  The seeds were planted.

  And speaking of which… my seed would be inside her soon enough. But before then, I still needed attention myself. Fucking driving myself crazy all night over Belle had taken its toll on me.

  Back at the clubhouse I downed three shots of whiskey and found a blonde to take to my room. She tried to kiss me but I stopped her. I turned the bitch around and ordered her pants and panties off. She made a comment about not wearing panties. What-the-fuck-ever. I bent her over and stuffed my fat cock into her pussy, holding hips, thinking of Belle the entire time.

  Ruining Belle was going to be the greatest pleasure of my entire life.

  eleven

  (belle)

  *MONTHS AGO*

  The car was steaming as I jumped out, fearing it was going to catch on fire and explode. I looked around and realized I was on the loneliest road in town.

  Shit.

  If I called my father, I’d get a face full of shit. He’d have ten squad cars show up and torture me. I’d be grilled on where I was going and why. My car would be searched for drugs. I’d get a breathalyzer test. And, no, none of that was a lie.

  Why was I on that road?

  Truthfully, just to go for a drive. Just to try and clear my head for a minute. I had a bad night at work. Marco was an asshole. The customers were rude. Hector wasn’t feeling well. My life felt like an entire mess. I couldn’t explain to my father because he’d take it the wrong way and assume I was on pills or something crazy. His entire existence when it came to me was to wait for me to fail so he could save me and say I told you so.

  Of course the one time my car decided to take a shit it would be on a desolate road. I thought after leaving work by five I’d have some daylight and time to myself. Call it stupid but I was going to ride near the coast and get an ice cream cone.

  How pathetic, right?

  A total virgin move.

  Someone else maybe would have had a drink and hooked up.

  Not me.

  I wanted ice cream.

  I leaned against my car and started to cry.

  I couldn’t control myself and nobody was going to see me.

  Or so I thought.

  It was like a racing thunderstorm. I swore I could feel the ground shaking as they all approached. The group of bikers coming toward me, heading back into town. I started to shiver with fear. Me, a lonely woman on the side of the road. Them, a group of lawless, ruthless bikers.

  My hand slipped to my phone.

  I had my thumb ready to go to call my father.

  Not that he could get here in time. So I’d be ravaged by bikers. And that too would be my fault.

  The first few guys flew right by me. All I saw was black. Helmets, hair, leather, motorcycle, boots.

  Zoom! Zoom! Zoom!

  Like cracks of thunder beating on my eardrums.

  Then three of them started to stop and moved to the side of the road. Two hung back and the third came forward at me. He stopped and sat there, his motorcycle rumbling. His arms filled his t-shirt beyond capacity. His arms were thick with tattoos. He killed the engine and climbed off his motorcycle. He took his helmet and sunglasses off and I was struck with deja vu. I’d seen this guy before.

  That night... with the girls…

  He broke a pool stick over someone’s face!

  He walked with an intense swagger.

  “What’s the trouble?” he asked me.

  His voice was rough. Nothing about this guy was smooth.

  “Nothing,” I hurried to say.

  “So you’re just standing on the side of the road for no reason?”

  “Yeah.”

  “That’s a problem for me,” he said.

  “Why?”

  “Because…” He pointed to the patch on his leather.

  I shivered
even more.

  He took another step and I put my hand out. “My car broke down. Okay? There’s steam coming out.”

  “Did you call for help?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay. I’ll wait with you. Just to be sure.”

  “I mean no,” I said. “I didn’t… I have no help.”

  He was right next to me now. Towering over me. “Okay, babe, let’s reset. I’m going to assume you’re broken down and you need my help. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “I work at a garage. Let me take a look under the hood for you.”

  The guy went right to work. He didn’t ask for permission. He just did what he wanted. I was flabbergasted. He popped the hood and opened it up. I crept up to the front of the car and watched this beautiful hulk of a man reaching into my car, twisting, pulling, grunting.

  He finally looked at me, an eyebrow raised.

  “Well?” I asked.

  “You’re screwed,” he said. “For a little while.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You got a busted hose,” he said to me.

  “Which means?”

  “Which means you're sitting your ass on the side of the road,” he said. He backed up from the hood. “Any other questions?”

  I gasped. I stepped away from him. “Thanks for telling me.”

  “I’m Slam,” he said. “And you’re…”

  “Belle,” I said.

  “Well, Belle, you have a decision to make.”

  “What?”

  “I can call someone to bring out a truck. We can tow you to the garage. You can ride with me. Then get you a ride from there. Something tells me you don’t want that. You look terrified right now, babe.”

  I was terrified. Terrified of all the bad things I heard about the Reaper’s Bastards. Terrified to call my father now because of how deep this situation had gotten.

  “What’s the other option?” I asked.

  “You hang out with me,” Slam said. “I’ll send my guys to get the part and tools I need. I’ll have you fixed up in an hour.”

  “I don’t have any money,” I blurted out.

  A smile crept across Slam’s face. “We’ll work something out.”

  That made me shiver again.

  I watched as Slam walked to his guys. He waved his hands and gave orders. The two guys then took off on their motorcycles, leaving me alone with Slam.

  He turned and lit up a cigarette.

  He looked right into my eyes and it was the most bad ass thing I’d ever seen in my life.

  He approached me and I knew I was in big trouble.

  twelve

  (belle)

  *NOW*

  I gripped the side of the bed with my left hand. My back slightly arched off the bed. I let out a small but controlled whimper. My hips bucked a little as my middle finger slid over my clit and curled. In my mind I was right back at that scene. On the side of the road. Being put on the hood of the car. My panties ripped off my body. Being fucked right there on the hood of the car.

  Who was the guy fucking me?

  That didn’t matter.

  It was just a guy. Just someone who could do it.

  I forced myself to chase away any idea that it could be Slam.

  That was insane.

  I would never offer myself to a guy like that. Especially my first time.

  I added a second finger to my clit and started to make circles. The pleasure quickly mounted and I dug my heels into the bed.

  Don’t think of Slam… don’t think of Slam…

  I pleaded with my mind.

  In my fantasy, the guy was thrusting hard and fast at me. My bare ass slid against the hood of the car. It felt so good. So fucking good.

  As I started to come, I held my fingers in place and rocked against my own touch. I groaned and bit my lip to keep from screaming.

  One thing came to mind.

  Slam.

  I quickly took my hand from between my legs. I gripped the sheets then with both hands. Between my legs, I was… okay. I could make myself orgasm, which was good. It was much needed in life. I could get wet. I could come. Go me. But I couldn’t imagine what it must have been like to have someone inside me as I came.

  A few minutes of heavy breathing gave way to complete frustration.

  I was alone in my bed, alone in my apartment.

  I wanted to fall asleep but I couldn’t stop thinking about what Slam had done. And said to me. Because someone touched my ass, he beat them up?

  It was scary… but kind of sexy.

  I thought about Kyle. He had called me three times since that party at Ashley’s. He was a total computer dork and, of course, because of that, my father loved him. Hell, my father probably was the one who had Kyle at that party.

  Part of me wondered what Slam would do to Kyle if he knew what Kyle did to me the other night.

  “No,” I whispered.

  These weren’t Slam’s battles. I didn’t even know the guy.

  Yet, on my nightstand, there was the book of matches he tossed to the table. I had taken them home with me.

  The night had completely gotten away from me. So I was going to settle it all with Slam. I’d go to the garage and thank him for what he did. But then I was going to tell him to stay away. I was the daughter of a cop. Not just a cop, but Chief Richards. I didn’t want anyone to get into trouble, including me.

  Belle, you took the matchbook home… you just touched yourself thinking about him…

  I rolled to the other side of the big, empty bed. I put a pillow over my head.

  I told myself two things.

  First, I wasn’t going to get into trouble with Slam.

  Two, the next time I was out, I was going to just go for it. Get rid of the virgin thing dangling over me.

  It was that simple.

  I fell asleep, smiling, thinking I had won the battle against Slam.

  I was wrong though.

  He was going to drag me into a war.

  I couldn’t believe myself. I wiped the mirror as it fogged up for the tenth time. I caught myself standing there with mascara, wondering just what in the hell I was trying to do. I finished and threw on the first thing I could find. This wasn’t about impressing Slam. This was about making sure he stayed away from me.

  End of discussion.

  My keys and cell were on the table.

  I had two missed calls from Kyle and a text.

  Morning, sweet thing. I need to see you today. If you don’t tell me where you are, I’m going to come find out. I have no choice.

  I swallowed hard.

  Those were Kyle’s romantic texts.

  I slowly looked around the apartment, suddenly feeling like I was in some thriller movie.

  My phone then beeped and rang. I screamed and dropped it to the floor.

  It was my father calling me.

  If I didn’t answer, he’d keep calling. And then send people to find me.

  “Good morning,” I said, trying to be upbeat and cheery, hoping it would rub off on him.

  “Hardly,” he said. “You can’t imagine the shit on my desk. Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. Why?”

  “Had a DUI thing just outside your apartment last night around two. Some guy ran into a stop sign and fell asleep. My guys stopped him and he went nuts. Thought he was home, sleeping.”

  “I didn’t hear a thing. I got home from work around one. I crashed hard.”

  “Speaking of that. What about the guy that got jumped.”

  I felt my heart sink. If I had been face to face with my father I would have given myself away.

  “Uh…”

  “In the alley,” my father said. “Someone got jumped. Got all their stuff stolen. He was roughed up bad. I saw pictures.”

  “Yeah. I heard about that.”

  “What did you see?”

  “I was in the restaurant.”

/>   My father growled. “I don’t like that shit. It doesn’t match up.”

  “Why?”

  “Someone was staking out that alley? For that one guy?”

  “Maybe. Wrong time, wrong place.”

  “Bullshit,” my father said. “I heard reports of the Reap near the scene.”

  I swallowed hard. My brain scrambled. “There were two of them in the restaurant. They were eating.”

  “Who? Which ones?”

  “I don’t know, Dad,” I lied. “Okay? It was a long night. They were there. They ordered burgers. One guy got something to go for his wife, maybe. Then they left.”

  “Before or after this attack?”

  “After,” I said. “They were in the restaurant. They didn’t…”

  I hated lying. I’d done it my whole life and each time I did it, it was like I was hurting myself more and more.

  “I still don’t buy it,” he said. “When you get to work again, I want you to dig around. Ask questions. See if Marco has tapes from the alley. I’m running my own investigation.”

  “Okay,” I said. “I’m off today.”

  “What are your plans?”

  In that exact moment it was hard to describe how I felt. It was like something twisted so tight inside me, it broke. This was my life. My entire life. From the second I found out my mother had been murdered. In the beginning I thought it was just my father being a good father. But it went beyond that. It was darker. It was like he wanted me to die next. And when he wasn’t acting that way, he was pushing me to find things out about his cases.

  “Belle? You there?”

  “Yeah, sorry,” I said.

  “I asked you a question. What are your plans?”

  I blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

  “I’m getting an oil change in my car.”

  “Oh. Good. Good for you. Take care of your car.”

  My face was red.

  It had nothing to do with an oil change.

  I was going to see Slam.

  thirteen

  (slam)

  *NOW*

  I finished my cup of coffee as I sat at the table.