by V. Theia
He’d rolled his eyes. “What do you think lovin’ her means, Gia? I want her on my bike. She’s my old lady already. Not lettin’ her go again.”
As far as Gia knew, she was told he and Zara had known each other years ago and had recently come back into his life. She’d pushed him for the details but he’d assured her that was Zara’s story to share if and when she wanted to and not to fucking bug her ever about it. Maybe it was the tone of his voice that convinced her but she’d smiled widely and informed him it was about time he settled down.
He was in no rush to share the news with his father. For now, it was just for his sister's ears alone.
Driving back from the airport he had a call from the clinic, he’d known his test results would come back clear, it was Zara he was worried about, not waiting until he reached the compound he’d called the office, asked if she’d had hers back as well. Fuck… she’d cried so hard he thought it was bad news, he’d told her they’d get through anything.
“No, Rider, you don’t understand. I don’t believe it but ... They said I’m all clean. Nothing is wrong ... God. I thought…“
Now he was driving like a maniac to get back to her. Gonna fuck you, baby. Be ready. He’d told her. He wanted to push into her bare, fuck. To feel that hot wet clasp with nothing in between them. She was already on the pill having picked up a prescription weeks ago. Fuck yeah, he was getting into his girl raw now she had nothing to worry about.
He drove the rest of the way hard as a rock and insane to take her.
He didn’t expect to get cornered by one of the groupies the moment he stepped into the clubhouse as if she’d been waiting for him to show up.
"We could have some fun, baby. It's been a while." Shandi whined a little jutting out her bottom lip as if a pout would work on him. Rider could have told her even if she'd waved her bare tits in his face it wasn't gonna rouse him.
He'd fucked her once years ago, and that was more than enough. Shandi was pushing forty, her skin was the color of burnt toffee, with raven hair half way down to her ass cheeks and she always smelled of something sickly sweet cheap perfume. He supposed she was good looking inasmuch as any of their groupies were, but she didn't do it for him. The one night he’d had he he’d been bored out of his mind, it was the only reason sex had happened. Forgotten right after.
Besides that, all his boys had been through her by now and she didn't seem to care, she liked sex and Rider could appreciate that kinda person, but she didn't get that he didn't wanna fuck her again. It didn't stop her trying every few months, testing the waters, he was usually good about knocking her back, sending her on her way to one of the others. Tonight, as she pressed her tits up against his chest the gesture rankled him.
His eyes turned flat. "Didn't we already have this conversation, Shandi? I'm not interested. I got a girl."
She smiled, spreading her glossed lips wide, moved in deeper until Rider had to grip the tops of her arms and push her back. She pouted like a little girl again, but this time did it with a smirk etched right on her face.
"Talk is you don't have a girl. What's the hurt if we spend a little time together? I won't tell anyone. She has to learn the way of the club anyway."
Now she was straight up irritating him, her fingernails crawling up his chest. Rider grabbed her wrist hard enough to leave finger marks behind, dragged her close so she could see the clear whites of his eyes, her own widened, not mistaking it for anything other than what it was; a warning.
"I'ma only say it one more time, and you best hear me or it won't turn out nice for you. I'm not interested in you now or ever, Shandi, go suck someone else's cock, you got it?" Fucks sake, he hated the stink of desperation and that's what came off most of the club’s groupies who fancied themselves being an old lady for the status and the money but didn't mind throwing their pussies around until they caught someone.
Rider's head was full of someone else.
His dick got owned long ago he just didn't know it.
"Okay. Okay. Fine, you don't haveta be mean about it, Rider. Jeez." She jutted her lip again. "I’ve missed you and your cock, I remember how good it made me feel, no one made me come like you did, you know I can deep throat you like no other. Was only tryna spend a bit of time with you again for old times’ sake." that he didn't believe, she could get sex anywhere.
She'd seen Zara, saw her influence around the place and felt the sting of it and wanted to asserted ownership where she had no right planting flags.
Groupies didn't realize that's all they were. They all got something out of it, but in the long run, it wasn't going much further than sex and fun. Shandi was one of the longest staying groupies, most drifted away or got told to not come back again for one reason or another. Rider could see Shandi's day coming if she was going to be a fucking nuisance.
"As I said. Not interested." His tone was dismissive and for once she listened, giving him a glance over her shoulder as she walked away.
Finally. Fuck. Rider sighed, swerved to head in the opposite direction, so fucking ready to lay eyes on his Icy.
Only the woman in question was stood right there at the end of the corridor, her hand up around her neck, accusing narrowed eyes all over him.
No prizes for guessing she'd seen him with Shandi, how close he had Shandi to his body.
Two and two and his Zara was adding it up to a fat one fucking guilty fifty.
Rider watched her eyes narrow, her lips tighten, he could practically see the color drain to white.
Without a word, she turned on her heel, hurrying back from where she'd come from.
Fucks sake. Really? Jealous? He covered the floor with easy-long strides, this was one conversation she was not running her cute butt from.
******
Tits in his face. Some woman had tits in Rider’s face! Zara saw red until her short nails dug into her palms. Fury and jealousy so slick it greased her stomach sloshing like a rain storm. She banged the bedroom door hard behind her and stood in the middle of the floor fuming.
Tits in his face! All heaving and wanting like lusting mammary orbs! Oh, now she wanted to punch someone and she suspected it would be Rider who didn’t seem bothered some woman had her business up against him.
In her experience, it was noticeable to her Rider wasn't one of those men who needed a basic inducement to his ego to favor him towards anything. Rider was straight talking, if you wanted something from him it was just best to come out and ask. Over the weeks, from her standpoint of observer as she blended into the paintwork and the bricks of every wall, becoming one with the silence so as not to call much attention to herself she amassed the lay of her temporary haven, it afforded Zara the front row seat to some of the tricks the groupies used to call on Rider's focus. They'd all crashed and burned because a man like Rider didn't need his ego stroked, he was not lacking in any self-confidence, if anything the president had too much confidence in her opinion, with an ego the size of a football field and some left over for snowy days.
The cocky man knew what effect he had on her with every sly wink he sent her way.
Cocksure.
Still utterly gorgeous. And he knew it. But never played to it with anyone but her as far as she knew. It was as though Rider knew what aesthetics he was playing with and couldn't give a fuck. He carried himself tall, fearless, with a grace of bold self-assurance in every hard stomp of his feet. But she'd never caught a whisper of him messing with anyone else.
Still, she seethed with new jealousy.
She wondered why then the groupies, ranging in age from mid-twenties to their early forties as far as she could gauge, used every lame trick of getting him to notice them.
Conversations worked fine. Hi. How are ya? Instead of boobs out to there and skirts so short it left nothing to the imagination what they had eaten for breakfast that day.
But then, she was jealous of any boobs bigger than a dollar coin since she barely had any of her own, so the groupies could have that, she’d probably pok
e her own breasts out if they were nice and big, too.
She glared down at her two flat eggs. Thanks for that, mom.
She’d been in a mood all day after the shit she’d been forced to listen to. And now this.
Then so excited, so relieved with her clean bill of health that she couldn’t wait a second longer for Rider to get back from the airport, she’d scrubbed their room until it sparkled, the bedding was fresh, she’d showered and changed clothes, all in anticipation of his return because she was going to pounce. Ugh. stupid woman with her tits in his face and Rider let her!
He strode into his room as though he hadn’t just this second had a woman grinding against his crotch. He even smiled that rogue smile, a stretch of gorgeous lips behind his beard.
Zara glared folding her arms.
"What were you doin’ runnin’ off like that? You see your man with a woman and you take off like your ass is on fire. Don't like that, Icy." Rider's smile had dropped when he approached. He'd brought the scent of outside with him, she caught the smell as he grew nearer standing tall, his neck arched down so he could look at her.
She avoided his eyes. Bristling.
"I see my old lady with a guy, you think I'm gonna storm off, Zara? No. I'm gonna beat ten levels of Hell outer him for putting hands on what's mine." He said.
Zara, feeling her temper boil into her furious eyes was about to erupt for the first time in years when he caught her around the waist and crushed her to him.
Her insides melted.
Air popped out of her mouth at the sudden new position, his hands cradled her hips, his head came down until he was almost touching her nose with his.
That vivid blueness trained on her. So beautiful she let go of some of her anger.
"My girl got good news, and I wanted to celebrate with her. Not watch her accusin’ eyes all over a situation that was less than nothin’."
"It was nothing?" she asked suspiciously.
"Yeah. Nothin’. Shandi is nothin’ to me and I told her."
Oh. "Oh," she said.
"Not even kissed me yet, Icy." Just like that, for him the other woman was dropped.
He encouraged her forward with a hand to the base of her butt. Zara wrapped arms around his shoulder and met him halfway, moaning into his long, wet kisses.
"Want me?" he asked.
"Yes. God, yes, Ambrosio. All the time."
She felt rather than saw his grin, his tongue going deeper to take another kiss leaving her breathless.
******
Preacher determined he was too damn old to be having alleyway hook-ups at the tail end of Fall on his last powerful thrust inside the chick. It was freezing out tonight, the Colorado cold skated down his back almost as strong as the orgasm had.
He pulled out, tossing the full condom into the nearby dumpster. Fucking next to rotten food, now that's class.
He'd already buckled his jeans back up before the woman spoke ... what was her name again? Binni? Betty? Becki? Becki sounded about right.
She was one of the new waitresses at Otis’ bar and grill where you can get a twenty-ounce steak medium rare and a beer as well as a good fuck in the parking lot if the need should arise.
And it arose for Preacher often.
It kept the noise at bay.
It wasn’t his fault he was a sexual guy, what with the affairs his daddy had back in the day with anything in a skirt he figured he’d inherited that gene in his DNA make up.
His only rule was he never attached to any woman, he never ran around on one with another, all his hook-ups knew the score before he got his dick out.
Free and easy. And very easy to walk away from.
“I don’t think my vagina ever had that kind of workout before,” Binni-Betty-Becki announced tying her black waitress apron back around her waist. “Really, it’s gonna be hard to walk inside. That was amazing.”
“You’re welcome, darlin’” Preacher grinned already bored of conversing and wanting to get back to his drinking. He didn't think he was a bad guy, just ... who didn't have issues anyway. A realist. He liked sex. Sex was done so why stick around when booze was waiting for him.
“Maybe we could…” Oh darlin, no.
She was new and hadn’t been alerted by the other bar girls just how Preacher operated.
Now she’d had a go on his fantastic cock and was seeing dancing stars and repeat performances.
Goddamn piercing hooked them all in for second helpings.
“No can do, sweetheart. Better head back inside before Otis cans your sweet ass.” He smiled again, flashing his straight teeth and winked, striding in front of her, he even held the door open for Binni-Betty-Becki waving her inside, she giggled and blushed.
“You’re ten fucking minutes late back from break, Belinda!” Otis the owner and manager growled across the bar. Belinda! Fuck, Preacher grinned, he was way off on her name. Ah well not like he needed to remember it for an anniversary.
The girl hurried off waving her fingertips at him and a look of hope in her eyes. Not happening, Belinda, he thought, but he’d leave her a nice tip later.
Just as he was about to follow her inside the noisy bar and the welcome smell of booze, he heard feet behind him, he cocked his head around, the clicks growing closer.
Flashing a grin, he ushered in the bartender ahead of him like a nice gentleman he was so fucking not. “Didn’t know you were working tonight, Ruby.”
The dark-haired woman, with mix-race somewhere in her exotic genes, caramel toned skin shone under the moonlight, and her chocolate eyes practically glared the skin off Preacher’s face.
Woah, mama. He arched his brow in question.
He’d never hit that, tapped that or even fucking propositioned her with any light flirting.
Even if she had made his tongue wet a few times, she’d always held herself above the wait staff and customers, so apart from a few words shared he hadn’t warranted her foul look.
Unless she'd caught his dirty act in the alleyway and was jealous his cock was pile driving into someone else. It was only natural after all.
“I don’t need you to open my door and my schedule is none of your business. Shouldn’t you be fucking something in the toilets.”
Damn. Babe had some charm. Definite hostility.
Before he could say a word back, Ruby pushed her way past the bulk of Preacher, her scent caught his nose and she tried hard to not touch his body as she brushed by but it was impossible with his size. He sucked in an electric breath as her hip grazed his thigh and watched her hips sway in that natural sexy woman way inside her tight skinny jeans all the chicks wore these days but they looked different on her. Classy. He hadn’t seen her in a few weeks, he realized, with a cock of his head, maybe she’d been on vacation, but then he'd been busy with the club and wasn't tonight him emptying his ball sac before his president sent him on the road, so he hadn't been around much either to notice the bartender's pissy scowls.
Chicks were funny things and not har-har either, that he could handle, he mused stroking a hand down his pointed and perfectly styled beard, he took that slow stroll from the front door over to the bar, he straddled a stool to wait for Grinder to get his ass here.
Straight up hostility was a mystery and usually the chicks he avoided, he didn’t have time to unravel all that crazy. Some he fucked, some he didn’t, but he loved all of ‘em in their own ways.
Even the ones he was fucking fascinated by as she poured drinks down the other end of the bar yet still managed to throw him the stink-eye glares.
Preacher chuckled to himself and downed his bourbon in one gulp, tapped the bar to gain her attention. Her deep russet eyes pinned him. He smiled. Yep, Preacher definitely was a fan of the women.
******
Ruby glared at the Renegade Soul’s member as he gestured her over. She knew who he was. Knew all about his club and avoided them for good reason. She’d had a week from hell at the cabin … possibly being raped … she just didn’t know any more
, too shaken to do anything she was just glad that man Kyle was long gone and she could get back to normality and forget that nightmare ever happened. She was livid inside.
I enjoyed it. She thought to herself and felt sick about it. He made me enjoy it. I didn’t want it.
So, her bullshit meter was broken, not in the mood for this asshole with his handsome face and his obvious allure he plied all the waitresses with.
He was a walking cock looking for a place to stick it to.
Her lip curled as she called for Tom the other bartender to go and see to the biker.
She’d already survived one fucking lunatic this week, she wasn’t adding a second.
******
“C’mon. I wanna know, Zara.” Wicked fingers were everywhere robbing her of sanity. It had taken him less than a minute to get her out of her clothes and pinned down on the bed.
Another minute to ask in his Rider way what the fuck was wrong with her today.
“Ambrosio…” melting into a puddle he gave her a full body caress and she struggled with the desire to let him release all that pleasure.
It was like a forest fire gone wild pumping flames around her body.
With her legs shaking, her sex clenched tight, Zara let go on an almighty exhale, all tension escaping. He licked her lower lip, tempting her. Her mouth, her body, drew his pleasure and they both knew it. Both knew he'd keep her hanging there with want dripping until she gave it up.
How had Rider known exactly she'd needed his touch? She hadn’t even known herself.
All day, she’d felt achy and off-kilter borderline moody. Was this the reason? She’d craved his hands so badly to settle her indifference?
His voice scratched against her throat. "I can coax you into tellin' me, baby. Have you screamin' my name while you come harder than you ever have before, and still you'll want more, won't you? say it, I want to hear it."