UnTouch Me

by Dawn Martens

  “I’ve missed you so much,” I say, launching myself at him. He catches me with ease and chuckles.

  Conrad is older than me by five years. He is my only sibling, and now, my only living relative. He joined the Zephyrs Motorcycle Club ten years ago - the day after his eighteenth birthday. Our parents weren’t impressed and he had a falling out with them because of it, so he stopped coming by. That didn’t mean he abandoned me, though. He didn’t. He called me at least twice a month and visited me whenever he was in the area.

  “You ready?” he asks.

  I nod. “Yep. I’ve just got this one bag, is that okay?”

  “Pass it to me.” I hand him my backpack and he tucks it into the bags attached to his bike. “Climb on.”

  I do as I’m told, swinging my leg over and then securing the helmet he hands me. I grip his waist as he roars off down the road.

  As the wind rushes past my face, I can’t help the flutter of excitement that swirls in the bottom of my stomach.

  Destination: Ford, Oklahoma. Home of the Zephyrs MC

  OAK

  In, out. In, out.

  I watch my cock sliding in and out of the club whore's pussy. My gut tightens, not with desire in the lead up to my climax, but in disgust. I squeeze my eyes shut, praying the image isn't burned into my retinas.

  Sometimes, I hate my fucking job...

  My name is Roman Drake and I am a Special Agent with the FBI. Six months ago, I was required to infiltrate the Zephyrs Motorcycle Club in Ford, Oklahoma.

  “Spank me, baby,” the whore whines.

  “Shut your fucking mouth,” I growl, not wanting to hear her voice. If she doesn’t speak, I can get lost in my mind.

  Her pussy clamps down on my dick and she screams through her orgasm. I still and groan before sliding my cock from her cunt, quickly tying a knot in the condom and then tucking it in my pocket.

  She doesn’t need to know that I didn’t come.

  I never do.

  But I have to fuck them every now and then to keep up appearances.

  Like I said, sometimes I hate my fucking job.

  CHAPTER 1 – WILLA

  “The usual, Rowdy?” I ask the biker sitting across from me.

  “You got it,” he replies, nodding when I slide a glass of straight whiskey across the bar to him.

  “How’re things?” I wipe down the bar, waiting for his answer. It’s quiet in Club Z today, but then again, we only just opened. Give it an hour or two and the place will be packed.

  “Usual,” he grunts, not giving me any emotion, just as I expected. He is the most vacant person I have ever come across. It’s kind of intriguing.

  A couple more customers come in, so I take care of them and then look up to find Carly coming in for her shift.

  “Hey, girl.” I smile.

  “Hey, Willa.” She gives me a quick hug and tugs my hair. “This looks good!”

  “Thanks. I’m still not used to it, but I like it.” Last night, I experimented, and straightened my hair. The tight ringlets I’ve had all my life are no longer – well, until I wet my hair, that is.

  “I can’t believe how long your hair is when it’s straight,” she exclaims.

  I spin around, showing her the back. Usually, my hair comes to just above my shoulders. But, straightened, it falls a couple of inchers further down my back.

  “I’m going to do a stock take. Can you handle things out here for a bit?” I ask.

  “Of course. Can you bring back a few bottles of spirits with you?”

  I nod and make my way out to the storeroom with my notepad and pen.

  This isn’t exactly the life I had pictured for myself. Growing up, I had high hopes of what my life would entail. After finishing college, I would open my own medical practice, and I would be the best damn doctor my patients had ever seen. Then, one day, I would meet the man of my dreams and he would sweep me off my feet before marrying me in Central Park while Circus animals performed for our guests. After that, we would move into our mansion and have babies – twins and one more. Of course, we’d have pets, lots of them. My husband is a vet, and he loves to be surrounded by animals.

  It’s a pity life doesn’t turn out the way you want it to when you are a kid. I think I’d make a pretty good doctor!

  Saying that, I have been working here at Club Z for a few months now and I like it well enough. I’m good at my job and I get to chat with different people each day. Carly has become a good friend as well, and since I never had many of those growing up, I really appreciate her friendship. Mostly I’m just thankful to have work.

  I finishing doing the stock take and double check I’ve got everything written down so we can place an order with our supplier. Once that’s done, I grab a bottle each of bourbon, whiskey and vodka, and take them back out to the bar.

  “I’m just going to grab a few more bottles, just in case,” I tell Carly. Generally Friday nights are busy, but they are even busier when word gets around that the Zephyrs will be partying here. Of course, tonight, the boys are coming in because they are due back in town any time now. They have been away for the past two weeks, so things have been fairly tame in here. No doubt that will change tonight. The boys can get pretty wild when they let their hair down.

  “Is Rad coming in tonight?” Carly asks, trying for nonchalant but I can detect the undertone of hope in her voice. She has a thing for my brother and she is not good at hiding it.

  I shrug. “Not sure. Probably.”

  I know she wants to ask more, but I walk away to serve a customer. I don’t want to get involved in their shit, because I don’t fancy losing a friend or pissing my brother off when things go south between them – and they will go south, because that’s just the way my brother is. If Carly wants to get hung up on a commitment-phobe, man whore like Rad, then there isn’t much I can do about it.

  The next few hours pass quickly and before I know it, night has fallen and the club is full. Drunken girls in barely-there clothing litter the dance floor. They shake their ass and laugh loudly, trying to gain the attention of the men, or more specifically, the bikers.

  I’m bent over, fetching a beer for a customer when the hairs on the back of my neck prickle. I grab the beer and rub my neck at the same time as I turn around. My breath catches in my throat like it always does at the sight of him.

  Oak.

  He’s the tallest, most muscular man I’ve ever laid eyes on. Massive. That’s the only word to describe him.

  His skin is the color of burnt caramel and his eyes are a shade lighter than melted chocolate. More times than one, I’ve found myself wondering if he tastes as good as he looks.

  The problem is, he never even notices me.

  I hand the beer over and turn my attention to Oak, putting on my friendly, professional, I’m-not-affected-by-you-at-all face.

  “Hey, Oak, what can I get you?”

  His eyes narrow as he looks over my hair, and I watch in fascination as his jaw ticks and he displays the first sign of actually seeing me. As quickly as the emotion shows, he wipes it from his face and his deep brown, impassive eyes find mine.

  “Beer,” he answers shortly, his voice sounding like warm honey drizzling over sandpaper.

  I turn to grab him a beer and take a deep breath to calm myself. Popping the cap, I pass it across the bar to him and smile.

  “Have good night, Oak.”

  He grunts in reply and walks away. I try not to watch, but I can’t help it. My eyes find his ass and my mouth waters. Two, round, solid buns, encased in a pair of low-slung jeans that fit him perfectly.

  “Are you going to serve us, or are you going to keep staring at something you’ll never have?” I glance over to the girl who is now giggling raucously with her friends at the end of the bar.

  Gritting my teeth, I make way over to them. Rather than asking them what they want, I simply raise my brows in question.

  “We’ll have three vodka oranges and three Quick Fucks,” one answers. She flips her
fake-blonde hair over her shoulder and pretends to chew on a long, bright red, acrylic nail as she gives fuck me eyes to one of the men.

  I serve up their drinks and take their money.

  “Ooh, Bre, she’s looking at you like she wants to fuck you,” the girl with brown hair whispers loudly to the blonde while looking at me.

  “Maybe she’s a lesbian,” the third girl snarls, her lip curling in disgust looking me over.

  “Even if I am a lesbian, I wouldn’t touch your fugly asses,” I snap. Lame comeback, I know, but it’s all I can think of on the spot. No doubt something better will come to me later on…it always does.

  “That’s what all the jealous girls say,” Blondie says flippantly, while strutting away, swaying her hips in a way I’m sure she thinks is sexy. It’s not.

  Just then, Carly comes back behind the bar, her arms full of empty glasses. I quickly rush over and take some from her.

  “Thanks, girl. Was Bre and her mini-hoes giving you a hard time?” She asks, placing her glasses in the sink.

  “No more than usual,” I mutter.

  “Take no notice of them. They’re just jealous of your natural beauty, Willa,” she says.

  “Natural beauty?” I scoff. “That’s like telling a fat kid they’re just big boned.”

  She bursts out laughing and flicks me with a towel. “Don’t be ridiculous. You are beautiful. You’re fucking stunning, Willa, and you’re ten times the woman those girls are.”

  “Whatevs,” I say through a smile. I spin around to check on the customers and come face to face with Oak. Unsurprisingly, his face is void of emotion as per usual.

  “Another beer?”

  He jerks his head once, confirming my question.

  “Do you think I’m naturally beautiful, Oak?” I ask, tilting my head to the side, trying not to smile. In all honestly, I’m curious about his answer, but mostly, I just want to extract some sort of emotion from him.

  His eyes flash angrily at my question and then they slowly travel down my body and back up again before resting on my face. Slowly, he brings the bottle to his lips and takes a swig, his gaze still on me. Then, he turns and walks away.

  That’s right! He turns and walks a-fucking-way!

  Well. I’m not sure what to make of that…

  The rest of the night passes by without incident and before I know it, we’re closing the doors and turning off the lights.

  “My feet are killing me,” I groan, wishing I could sit down for five minutes and give them a rub.

  “Mine, too,” Carly agrees. “Let’s get out of here.” She links her arm with mine and we walk down the back passage to the rear exit. Pushing open the door, we walk out into the car park.

  “See ya tomorrow,” Carly says, giving me a hug.

  “Sweet dreams,” I reply. She walks over to her car and I continue on to mine. Just as I’m about to open the driver’s door, a large figure emerges from the darkness, startling me. My breath catches in my throat, my scream trapped. The person comes closer and I realize who it is.

  “Jesus, Oak. You scared the shit out of me.”

  He doesn’t reply and I don’t say another word until he comes to a stop a few inches in front of me. Slowly, I tilt my head back so I’m looking at his face.

  “You always walk out here alone?” he rumbles.

  “Uh, yeah. I don’t need anyone to hold my hand,” I say with an eye roll. Jeez. How old does this guy think I am?

  “You shouldn’t be walking out here alone after dark,” he grinds out.

  “I can take care of myself, thank you very much,” I fire back. God knows, I’ve been handling my own shit for as long as I can remember. My parents might have been present during my upbringing, but since they spent most of their time out doing god-knows-what, I often took care of myself.

  “Does your brother know you do this? ‘Cause he should fuckin’ know better.”

  “That’s none of your business. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got better things to do than this.” I fling my door open and slide into the seat. Just as I’m about the slam my door shut – to emphasize my point – he grips it with his fingers and holds it open.

  “See you around, Willa.”

  He releases the door and I close it and quickly snap the lock down.

  He knows my name!

  No! Don’t swoon. Don’t. Dammit, Willa!

  Oh, lord, the way my name sounded rolling off his tongue…

  Undercover – A Zephyrs MC novel will be released by mid 2015.

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