CHEAP SMUT: Four Erotic Romance Novels (Boxed Set)

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CHEAP SMUT: Four Erotic Romance Novels (Boxed Set) Page 80

by Scott Hildreth


  Rollin’ sex.

  “Karter, you little fucker,” I heard Teddy scream across the showroom floor.

  I turned to toward the parts department. Teddy stood on the other side of the counter waving his arms like an idiot. I turned to face Jak and grinned.

  Shit, I’m soaked.

  “Shit, Jak,” I sighed.

  “Is there a problem?” he asked.

  “Not with him, no. That’s Teddy, he’s cool. The problem,” I paused, looked down at my crotch, and nodded my head once.

  Jak looked down at the floor and slowly up and into my eyes. His eyes widened and he raised his eyebrows in wonder.

  “My pussy,” I sighed.

  “Oh, did you start your period?” he whispered.

  “No I didn’t start my period, dork. Thinking about you on a bike made me wet. Stick your hand in here,” I said as I pulled the waist of my jeans away from my stomach.

  Jak looked around the dealership and down at the waist of my jeans.

  Oh fuck yes, I was totally kidding, but do it.

  Do it.

  Stick your hand in my pants.

  “I can’t. Not in here,” he whispered.

  You big pussy.

  I shook my head and released the waist of my jeans. I raised my index finger between us and used my smart assed voice, “You might be big, and you might buy a bike, but you’ve got a ways to go to be a biker.”

  That ought to do it.

  In some instantaneous SEAL judo move, he snatched me from my feet and tossed me to the side and onto the seat of the bike he was looking at. My ass landed perfectly onto the oversized leather seat. As he held me by the front of my shirt with one hand, he stuck his other hand into the front of my pants. I leaned back into the seat, closed my eyes, and arched my back. As he slid his finger into my pussy, I shivered and almost knocked the bike over.

  He pressed his finger deep into me and curled it upward.

  Oh God, my g-spot.

  He pressed it even deeper and curled the tip of his finger into my g-spot again. I opened my eyes, stared up at him, and bit my lip.

  One more of those, and I’ll cum.

  “One more,” I whispered.

  He shook his head and smiled. Slowly, he pulled his hand from my pants and raised his soaked finger to his mouth. As his lips parted, he closed his eyes.

  Do it, fuck yes. That’s fucking hot.

  He slid his pussy soaked finger into his mouth and sucked on it.

  “You’re a dick,” I said as I stood from the seat.

  He smiled and nodded, “I can be.”

  “I almost came,” I sighed.

  He grinned, “I know. You’re weak, Karter.”

  “Weak for you. I hate you,” I whispered jokingly and I rearranged my jeans.

  “Karter!” Teddy screamed.

  “I better go get my cable,” I sighed.

  “Looks like it,” Jak chuckled.

  “Be right back,” I smiled as I turned toward the parts department.

  Teddy stood beside the counter with his forearms leaning on the outer edge of the top. His arms were as big if not bigger than my legs, and his forearms were equally as large. As I walked up to the counter, he raised his right hand, opened it, and flattened his palm. I did the same with mine and slapped his open hand. Immediately, he made a fist. I did the same and pounded mine against his.

  Every time he greeted me, it was with the same handshake.

  “Little Karter. How’s that Evo?” he growled.

  “Be better if I had a positive cable for it. Battery to starter,” I responded.

  “1991?” he asked.

  “Good memory,” I nodded.

  “Well, it’s pretty fuckin’ easy. You’re the only tattooed supermodel who rides an Evo Softail. Be right back,” he said as he turned toward the warehouse.

  After sixty seconds, Teddy walked form the back room with a cable in his hand. From what I could see, it was the correct cable.

  Fuck yes.

  “This fucker was back there without a baggie. Looks right to me,” he winked.

  “How much?” I asked as I reached for my wallet.

  “Can’t rightly charge for it. It ain’t got a fuckin’ part number,” he shrugged, “I don’t even know how to put it in the computer.”

  I shook my head and smiled. Teddy leaned onto the counter and looked to his left and then to his right. As he stopped looking around and focused on me, he grinned.

  “Wanna hear a story?” he asked.

  I nodded eagerly, leaned onto the counter, and shoved the battery cable into my pocket.

  “You know Kelli, right?” he tilted his head toward Kelli’s office.

  I nodded and smiled.

  “She’s fuckin’ preggo,” he smiled.

  “Huh? I just saw her a minute ago. She didn’t look it,” I shrugged.

  “Well, she’s preggo as a motherfucker. Doc knocked her up on a bet,” he leaned back and slapped the countertop with his open hand.

  “On a bet?”

  He nodded his head and leaned into the counter again, “Yep. Went to a boxing match in Texas. Doc says, if this sum bitch knocks out the Alabama boy, I’ll give ya a baby. So, the kid knocks out the Alabama boy. And Kelli tosses the birth control in the shit-can. About three weeks, and she’s fuckin’ preggo.”

  He raised his hand and snapped his fingers loudly, “Just like that.”

  I smiled, “Well, good for her. I’ll congratulate her on the way out.”

  Having a baby with Jak would be the best gift I could ever receive. To think of Jak and me raising a child together made me think of the differences between what my mother did and what I would do. My child, if I was ever so lucky to have one, would receive nothing but love and affection. I know Jak well enough to know he’d provide the exact same thing. For a small moment as I stood there, I became jealous of Kelli for being pregnant and me not even being married yet.

  “Wait, that ain’t the half of it,” he said as he leaned away from the counter and rubbed his hands together.

  I raised my eyebrows in false wonder, “Oh it isn’t?”

  “Nope. Guess?” he said as he began to rub his beard.

  I shrugged, “Uhhm. I don’t know. Twins?”

  “Sum bitch. You guessed it. Damn, you’re good, Karter,” he chuckled.

  “Seriously? Twins?” I asked.

  “Yep. Boy and a girl. They got one a them whatchamacallit tests. And there’s one a each in there,” he grinned.

  I pressed my tongue to the roof of my mouth and wrinkled my nose, “That might be a little tough, going from none to two immediately.”

  Teddy shrugged and smiled. All of a sudden I wasn’t so jealous. To think of having two kids at once seemed like more of a hassle than a blessing. Maybe if they were my kids, I’d feel differently. I smiled at the overall thought of children and of Kelli probably being excited about having twins.

  “Is that it?” I asked.

  “Well,” he rubbed his beard again with both hands.

  “Oh, shit. I almost forgot,” I said as I lifted my left hand to the counter.

  “Bam!” I shouted as my hand hit the counter.

  Teddy jumped backward as if I had actually scared him. As he looked down at my hand, his eyes widened and he grinned.

  “Sum bitch girl. From him? The big boy?” he nodded his head toward the showroom.

  I smiled, “Yep. I’ll introduce you. He’s thinking about buying the Street Glide.”

  “He better buy it,” Teddy said as he leaned away from the counter.

  “Oh yeah? Why so?”

  As he slowly walked toward the back room, he looked over his left shoulder and chuckled, “If you finger bang a girl on one of our bikes, you gotta buy it.”

  And with that, Teddy disappeared into the back room. I turned toward the showroom and noticed Jak was gone. The spot where the bike had been parked was empty. I looked toward the front door. Steve and Jak were pushing the bike through the open doo
rs. Excitedly, I ran toward the door. As I caught up to them, they were pushing the bike onto the sidewalk.

  “So, you going to ride it?” I asked.

  “Yes, I am. Let me get my feet wet for a few minutes, it’s been a while. I’ll be back in about ten,” he grinned.

  The bike looked gorgeous in the sunlight. The thought of mine being broke down made me more disappointed now, as Jak and I couldn’t ride together until I fixed it. As Steve stepped to the side, Jak pulled a half-helmet on and fired up the bike. As the engine warmed, he turned toward me and tilted his head to the side.

  “Kiss me,” he said.

  I wrapped my arms around him and gave him a kiss. Seeing him on the bike excited me to no end. As I stepped on the sidewalk and watched, Jak pulled out onto the road in front of the dealership and gassed the throttle like he was in a street race. I smiled as he sped away and up the onramp to the highway.

  “Ridin’ that motherfucker like he stole it,” Steve laughed.

  “Well, at least he isn’t riding it like a pussy,” I chuckled.

  Steve turned to me and smiled, “What’s your name again?”

  “Karter.”

  “I like those tats, Karter. Like your old man too, he’s a good dude.”

  “He’s the best,” I said.

  “Let’s go inside. Like any of the new bikes?” he asked as he pulled the door open.

  I shrugged, “I don’t know. I like that new Softail Slim, but I’m a starving artist. I can’t afford a new bike. I just sold forty grand worth of art, but I have to manage my money. Hell, I might not sell anything else for six months.”

  “Don’t cost anything to look, does it?” he asked.

  “Nope,” I responded as I walked through the door.

  A new flat black Softail Slim sat in the middle of the showroom. As we approached it, Steve looked toward the bike and nodded, “Get on. It sits real low. Probably wouldn’t even have to lower it.”

  I hopped on the bike and grabbed the bars. My feet sat flat on the floor and my knees were actually bent. Shocked, as I had to lower my Softail three inches to get it where I could safely ride it, I grinned at the stance of the bike. It fit me perfectly.

  “How much?” I asked.

  “$17,500 the way it sits. We’d give a little break off that,” he said.

  I kicked up the kickstand and felt the bike’s weight against my legs. It was similar to mine, but almost twenty-five years newer and with a more comfortable seat. The thought of having a new bike was something that always appealed to me. I had no hang-ups with my bike, and felt no real reason to keep it other than I had almost no money invested in it. That, and the fact I couldn’t afford to replace it. As I heard the unmistakable rumble of the Street Glide outside the front door, I tilted my head toward the entrance. Jak removed his helmet as he walked through the door.

  “What’d you think of her, Jak?” Steve asked.

  “Loved it,” Jak smiled.

  He looked truly happy. It was almost as if he finally found the escape he had needed all along. I realized there was a tremendous amount of burden carried by military war veterans, but Jak never talked about the war. As I wondered how he dealt with the emotion from all of the missions he’d been on, I considered the freedom he may have felt while riding the bike. Riding, for me, was an experience and an escape I could get nowhere else on this earth. As he slowly meandered through the showroom, he seemed to have a little more attitude to his walk.

  In his boots, jeans, and tee shirt, he looked like a biker.

  “Well?” I asked, trying not to sound too excited.

  “Well what? Well, you look gorgeous on that new bike, honey,” he smiled as he bent down to my height and kissed me.

  “Do you like it?” he asked.

  “Love it,” I grinned.

  “Would you ever trade in the other one?” he asked.

  “Oh fuck yeah, if I could afford it. Truthfully, I hate that fucking Evo,” I complained.

  “How much for both of ‘em?” Jak asked.

  Oh my God. Don’t fuck with me, Jak.

  “Well, $27,500 for the ‘Glide, and $17,500 for the Slim. That’s $45,000. I’d say we could probably go $40,000 for them both,” Steve responded.

  “She’s got a 1991 Softail in above average shape for the age. It needs a battery cable,” Jak paused and looked toward me.

  I smiled and pulled the battery cable from my rear pocket and held it in the air. If we ended up with two new bikes, there would be nowhere we couldn’t go. Hell, if Jak wanted, we could ride to the coast. The thought of getting rid of my shitty old Harley became exciting as Steve waited for Jak to finish speaking.

  “How about $35,000 and the old Softail?” Jak asked.

  Holy shit. Jak’s serious.

  “Make it $36,500?” Steve asked.

  “No,” Jak responded.

  Fuck, I’ll toss in the fifteen hundred.

  “I’ll go $36,000,” Jak said.

  “You got a deal. Now what about her old bike?” Steve asked.

  “I’ll deliver it this afternoon,” Jak responded.

  “Sounds good, let’s write it up,” Steve said.

  “Jak? You’re serious?” I asked.

  It all happened so fast. I’d never had anyone buy me anything, let alone something as expensive as a new bike. It was difficult for me to comprehend. Completely overwhelmed with emotion and excitement for Jak and me to be able to ride together, I waited for him to respond.

  “Push it to the door, honey. Let’s go get your bike and bring it back here, then we can spend the rest of the day riding,” he grinned.

  As I thought of loading the bike into the truck, I remembered the day Jak and I met, and how he lifted the back of the bike into the truck with ease.

  And. I. Got. Wet.

  As he began to walk toward Steve’s office, I whistled. Jak turned around. I kicked the kickstand down and stood from the bike. I looked down at the waist of my jeans.

  “Stick your hand in here,” I laughed as I pulled the waist of my jeans away from my stomach.

  “Let me get this signed and over with,” he said as he tilted his head toward the office.

  “Pussy,” I whispered.

  Fuck, I said that out loud.

  Before I had a chance to make a run for it, Jak had me pinned to the floor, and his hand in my pants.

  Yeah, I think Jak will do just fine as a biker.

  KARTER. I used to sit at home and worry Jak would simply forget about me one day. Having Jak be a part of my life made such improvements to me and my manner of living, I was afraid it would certainly come to an end. I had never truly enjoyed living until I met Jak. With him in my life, I viewed the world before me through different eyes, and not my colored contact lenses.

  Life with Jak was not too good to be true, because it was true. It was real. And it was mine. And I, of all people, believed I deserved what I was being served as a repeated meal by the hand of no other than God. I had never really believed in God until after I met Jak. And now, I don’t know how anyone could convince me God did not exist. Who could witness something as magical as the love Jak and I felt for one another, and believe it merely happened? Everything falling into place in the manner it had was far too complex to be anything but a plan by a being greater than man. I cleared my throat, set my coffee cup beside the newspaper, and closed my eyes.

  God,

  You keep Jak healthy, and I’ll keep him happy. I can promise you that. And I don’t make a promise if I don’t intend to die keeping it. And you can take that to the fucking bank.

  Shit.

  I probably shouldn’t have cussed, huh? My bad. Rewind. Okay, keep him healthy, and I’ll keep him happy. Pound it. Thanks for everything. Show me the way. Keep us safe out on the road. Shiny side up and all.

  That’s all I got.

  Karter out.

  I opened my eyes and began sorting through the piles of mail which had collected for almost the entire time I had known Jak. He ha
d immediately consumed my entire life, and although it was in a good way, it was also a bit overwhelming looking at it from an outsider’s point of view. As I flipped through the envelopes, one thing became immediately apparent.

  The Sedgwick County Courthouse wanted to get ahold of me.

  Desperately.

  No less than six letters from the Sedgwick County Courthouse were amongst the mail I had inventoried. Frustrated, and assuming I had a warrant for my arrest, I grabbed my knife and cut the envelope open. I pulled the one-page letter from the envelope and read it.

  Mrs. Wilson,

  Pursuant to case number SG-2436-17A, please provide proof of ongoing aftercare. If such proof isn’t provided by August 28th, 2014, actions will be taken by the court.

  Be reminded breach of the agreement set forth in the above referenced case may include fines, imprisonment, or both.

  Circumstances of the case and of the agreement are available from the Clerk of the Court by providing the case number.

  Respectfully,

  The Prosecutor’s Office

  I tossed the letter on the counter.

  Fuck.

  I opened one of the other envelopes. The exact same letter with a different date was inside. I opened another. The same thing. Frustrated, I sat and stared at the newspaper I had just finished reading. I had been required by the court to attend no less than three Alcoholics Anonymous meetings as aftercare to my treatment. If not, I could be determined mentally incompetent by the court, and placed in an institution or in jail.

  I shook my head, wrapped my hands around my coffee cup and thought of what my options were. I looked down at my cup and closed my eyes.

  God,

  Seriously?

  I opened my eyes and shook my head. I glanced at the pile of mail and closed my eyes softly to close my prayer.

  Karter out.

  The August date had long since passed. Without a doubt in a short period of time, if not already, a warrant for my arrest would be issued. Frustrated, I picked up the phone and called the Prosecutor’s Office. After three different people and twenty minutes of begging, I had authorization to attend three meetings in three weeks.

  Thank God.

  No pun intended.

  A call to the treatment center revealed what I already knew. There were daily morning and afternoon meetings, seven days a week, 365 days a year. Praise the Lord and pass the wicker basket. I decided to send Jak a text and tell him the truth. He understood the importance of what I had to do, and we decided to meet for a late lunch afterward. After a quick shower and a wet ponytail I was on the elevator.

 

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