"I know they've been wreaking havoc everywhere," Jensen says. "But I hope they weren't purposefully targeting us for some reason."
"I think they're just, like… trolls?" I shrug. "No rhyme or reason for what they do."
"Sounds more like terrorists," Whitney says.
"I agree," Jensen nods. "They should be treated like that because they scare people for no reason. And their bad behavior is escalating."
"Can I talk to you outside?" Larson suddenly asks me.
"Sure. Whitney, can you…"
"Of course," Whitney says, before I can even finish the sentence. "I can definitely keep an eye on my little buddy who thinks hanging out with me is capola."
"Cookie!" Caleb says, running over to hug Whitney's legs.
"Okay, we'll kiss and make up," says Whitney.
And Riley looks at me and says, "Looks like Mommy might be doing something similar."
Chapter 15 – Larson
I pull Brynn onto the porch and kiss her as soon as the door closes behind us.
I can't help it. I know it's fucking foolish. But lust— and infatuation— make people do foolish things.
I’m starting to think I could actually be in fucking love. For the first time in a long time. Which is sooner than I ever thought it would happen, because I never thought it would happen again.
And I never thought it would happen like this. Instant attraction. Instant love. Or at least instant deep like. On Hallo-fuckin-ween.
It doesn't make a lot of sense. But neither do a lot of things in life. So, I don't fight it. I just go with it. And it feels so fucking good.
I’m in like with Brynn Elliot. It’s probably too soon to say love, but I’m definitely in deep fucking "like" with her.
"Listen," I tell Brynn. "I know you have to go. You don't have a lot of time. But I want you to come back."
"But I…"
"I know," I tell her, putting a finger over her full, sweet lips. "You don't even know me. So that's why I need to tell you. I had to leave because the cops would probably arrest me if they came to Riley's house."
"Why?"
She's looking at me with those fucking gorgeous eyes of hers, wanting an explanation. I know I have to tell her, even though I never thought I'd want to talk about it with anyone.
But I’m not ready to tell her everything. Just enough so that she understands that I had to go but that I want to see her again.
"There was something that happened," I tell her.
She's still staring at me with those fucking killer gorgeous eyes.
"In my past. It’s over now, but it still haunts me. And I’ve been determined to make it right ever since it happened. I might not be the most beloved in man in the world by law enforcement.”
She can't comprehend it, and I don't blame her. I just pull her close to me.
"Just listen,” I tell her. “I’m telling you more than I’ve been able to tell anyone. Because I want you to come back. But I’m not at the point where I can talk about everything that happened."
"Okay," she says. "Sure."
"I have to be on my best behavior or I could be taken in for a very long time,” I tell her. “I don't think that what I did warrants arrest, due to the reason I had to do it, but the law doesn’t always care about one’s motivations for doing things.”
"I see." She nods again. "So, you couldn't have…"
"…been seen beating up some asshole clowns," I confirm. "Officially, I have to stay away from anything like that. But behind the scenes, I make things happen. The Desert Dogs and I, we protect this town. I promised I would protect you. And Caleb. And I will."
She looks up at me and I kiss her again, soft and gentle this time.
"I also felt I needed to tell you because I have a lot of enemies and I don't know if they're connected to any of this," I admit.
I hope she's not mad at me, but it feels good to get it off my chest.
“What do you mean, connected to this?” she asks.
“To the craziness that’s been going. The clowns. The attempted burglary. The fact that they wanted to beat me up. I don’t know, it’s all so strange…”
"Don't be silly, Larson," Brynn says. "They're chaos-creating clowns. There is no rhyme or reason to what they do. If there was, then it could be related to me just as much as to you."
"How could it be related to you?" I ask.
"I don't know," she shrugs. "But Caleb's father is pretty crazy. And I got a weird vibe from Clay Tucker."
"Yeah, that guy was a definite creep," I agree. "And he seemed to have a thing for you."
"You picked up on that, huh?" she asks, with a wink.
"I have to admit I was a little jealous. But I knew that the head cheerleader had to end up going home with the star quarterback. That’s just the way things are meant to be."
She laughs, and I'm so glad things are normal between us.
"Don't blame yourself," she says. "Don't feel guilty. Because I could too. Or anyone could, really. I mean, it was at Riley and Jensen's house. Maybe it had something to do with them."
We look at each other.
"Jensen's mom does have some sketchy men in her past,” I venture, “that he's not made close friends with, to say the least."
"But it's over," she says. "It's nothing. I was just using Jensen and Riley as an example of how anyone and everyone might wonder if they did something to cause this. Any normal person would. But that's why the clowns do it. They want to stir drama and create confusion. They want us to wonder, ‘Is it me? Is it him? Is it her?’ and probably to turn against each other. We'll just be giving in to them if we start thinking that way."
"The last thing I want to do is give into those punks," I agree.
"So, let's not. Let's just focus on good things," she says.
Now that I put some of my issues out there and she’s been so receptive of them, I feel as if a burden has started to be lifted from me. A dark spell in my heart is beginning to be broken.
"Alright. Done. Starting now I'm focusing on seeing you again. So, when are you coming back to see me?" I ask.
"That depends," Brynn says, as Caleb opens the door and comes running out.
"Mommy!" he shouts, pointing at my bike. "Mo-to-cycle!"
"When can you come to New York?" Brynn asks me. "Because I think it's your turn next."
Damn it. That girl knows how to drive a hard bargain. Leave it to a lawyer to know how to negotiate.
I’m not a city dwelling type of guy. I’d be so out of place in New York. But if there’s one thing that would get me there, it’s Brynn. Just like she managed to get me into a fucking Halloween costume. Seems there’s nothing that girl can’t get me to do. Apparently, I’m pretty fucking smitten.
Chapter 16 – Larson
I’m at the club house with some fellow Dogs when my phone vibrates with a text message alert. My heart fucking races, thinking it has to be Brynn. I tell myself not to look at it— if any of the guys saw me, they’d think I was so pathetic— but I know I can’t resist. I haven’t seen her for over a week and it’s driving me crazy.
I miss your big cock, the text says.
Holy shit.
Why can’t she be here, right now, for me to bend over and take?
I miss your wet pussy, I’m in the middle of texting back, but Jensen comes over and says, “Hey Larson, these clowns seem to have settled down, right?”
“Looks that way,” I tell him, trying to act nonchalant as I shove the phone back into my pocket. “I mean, there have been some graffiti incidents and some punks getting dressed up like clowns still and running around downtown, but, it seems to just be kids trying to keep the Halloween spirit up a bit longer this year. What do you think?”
Jensen shrugs.
“I don’t know.”
He looks a bit worried, so I can’t help but press for more info.
“What does that mean?”
“Bob Wright said he’s heard rumors that the clowns are still up to some stuff. Petty thef
t, roughing people up, that sort of thing. But nothing as crazy as on Halloween night.”
“I see,” I tell him.
This is troubling. I’m glad nothing major has happened but I wish these clowns would disappear for good.
My phone vibrates again. I can’t help but sneak a peek, pulling it slightly out of my pocket.
You must be riding, Brynn’s new text says. When you get done and get my text, think about riding me next… on your bike.
Hell yeah, now that’s what I’m talking about, I think, and then I notice Jensen looking at me strangely.
“That Brynn?” he asks.
Fuck. He’s gonna give me shit about texting women from the club house. But he just shakes his head as if he’s got me.
“You are really into her,” he says. “I told you this could happen to the best of us.”
“I don’t think so, you fucker,” I deny.
But he’s right— I’m a goner. I’m already thinking about visiting Brynn in New York, which I can’t wait to do, just so I can see her again. Touch her again. Feel her body against mine. Fuck her again.
My cocks starts getting hard despite my best intentions. The damn thing has a mind of its own.
“Well,” Jensen says, patting me on the shoulder as he stands up. “I’ll leave you to talk to your old lady.”
“She’s not my old lady,” I tell him, protesting against his use of biker slang for girlfriend or wife. But deep down, I feel that she is.
“I think Bob and I are going to go ride around later and see if anything too crazy is happening with the clowns,” he responds, ignoring my comment about Brynn.
“Okay, let me know when,” I tell him.
But as soon as he’s gone, I head to the bathroom to take care of a little— or big— something.
I finish the dirty text message I had been in the process of sending Brynn when Jensen came over. Then I add another one.
Sorry, Doll. I’m at the house. But I’m thinking of you right now.
Oh yeah? Comes her immediate reply. What are you thinking about doing to me?
Fucking you on my bike, like you told me to think about, I tell her.
I imagine holding her up against the hard steel and plunging my hard cock into her wet pussy. I miss it so much.
I take my cock out and stroke it, wishing that it was Brynn’s pussy instead of my hand. I think about her naked, curvy body and all the things I wish I could do to it right now. When I see her, I want to lick her from head to toe. Trail my tongue from her nipple to her belly button to her pussy, teasing her for as long as we can both hold out before drinking her delicious juices.
That’s it, I can’t take it anymore. I shoot a load of cum inside some wadded up toilet paper, wishing I could be shooting it into Brynn instead.
I hurry to clean up the evidence and go see when Jensen and Bob are planning to leave for their welfare check ride around town. There’s important club business to attend to but I just had to take care of that one little thing first. I think I’ll go certifiably crazy before I get to see Brynn next, and I can’t believe she’s having this much of a fucking effect on me.
I definitely have to go to New York. This situation is becoming dire.
Chapter 17 – Brynn
Sexting is fun, but seeing Larson in real life will be even better. I can’t believe he’s coming to see me in New York. He must be as into me as I am into him. I just hope my stupid job doesn’t mess things up.
Right now, I’m home from work and Caleb is with his nanny because I have an appellate brief due in two days that I have to work on late into the evening. I hate that I don’t get to see him, but duty calls and if I don’t jump when the firm says jump, I’ll lose my spot on the partnership track, and all I’ve worked to build for Caleb.
Sometimes I just get tired, though, and wish I could have a break. Sure, I just went to Albuquerque and to the Halloween party and hooked up with Larson, but our time together was so short that it made me crave more.
I’m dying to release some sexual tension. Riley had texted me that she’s heard from Jensen that Larson can’t stop talking about me. That has to be a good thing.
I send him a sexy message and then wait for his reply. When I finally get a response— I miss your wet pussy, and then a sorry, Doll, right after that, I can’t control myself any longer.
I slip my hand under my panties and feel my wet slit. I trace my clit like Larson does, wishing it could be him. With my other hand, I stick several fingers inside me, stretching myself as wide as Larson’s cock does, remembering how it feels when he’s all the way inside me, filling me all the way up.
I pause to tell him what I want him to do me.
When I see you again, I want you to stick your cock down my throat, I text him. And anywhere else you want to.
I plan to, he texts back. I’m stroking it right now, thinking of my dirty little slut. Are you playing with your pussy for me, baby?
I love when he calls me baby. It’s so intimate compared to his dirty talk or even the way he usually calls me “Doll.”
I sure am, I text him back. And I’m dripping wet for you.
Come for me, he says. Because I’m going to come for you.
I take my hand off my phone so I can play with one of my nipples. I think of how Larson grabs it and pinches it, and I do the same as I continue playing with my pussy. I imagine his hand grasping my clit tight or spanking it like he enjoys doing.
Soon I’m wishing he could slap my ass and rub his cock in my face. I never thought I liked rough sex but I love it with Larson. I want him to take me, claim me, use me, do what he wants with me.
I tingle all over as I reach near climax. I think about Larson’s big cock in my pussy while I let myself come, my juices dripping out all over my hand.
This is exactly what I needed before I start working on a brief tonight. How I wish Larson was here to reward me with cuddling— and of course sex— after I finish it. But for now, I’ll have to settle for my memories of him and my fantasies of what it’ll be like when he comes to town— provided work doesn’t ruin it.
Chapter 18 – Larson
New York City is really fucking big.
I know I should have already known that. I did know that. But knowing it is different than seeing it.
New York City also has a lot of streets and avenues that are named after numbers. I'm standing on the corner of Third Avenue and Fifty-Fourth Street, looking up at the humongous building that houses the law firm where Brynn works. And realizing we couldn't be from two more totally fucking different worlds if we tried.
It's November and Brynn says I just missed the famed autumn in New York. What comes after that must be the infamous Dead of Winter in New York, because compared to New Mexico, the weather here is fucking cold. I take one last breath of the chilly air and then enter the building.
I look around at the designer suits and fur coats and feel very out of place wearing my leather motorcycle jacket. But I'm sure glad I wore it because it's warm. I just hope none of these fancy pant- wearing professionals mistake me for a homeless guy and kick me out.
I take the elevator all the way up to the 23rd floor. We don't even have buildings in Albuquerque that go up this high. When I get to the lobby of Brynn's law firm, the receptionist tells me to have a seat and that she'll be right with me.
But I want to surprise her. I haven't seen her in a couple of weeks, which is far too long, and she had mentioned wanting me to see her office.
"Can I just go back and wait for her?" I ask the receptionist. "She's expecting me."
She looks at me and raises her eyebrows skeptically, like maybe I'm in the wrong place, or asking for the wrong Brynn Elliot.
But then the phone rings and she shrugs and says, "Be my guest. Her office is right back there but I think she's in the conference room on a personal matter. Gentleman callers must be her thing today."
What the actual fuck?
I don't say anything, because this chick
doesn't look like a friend of Brynn's. Probably more like a jealous underling.
I head back through the hallway in the direction she'd just pointed towards. And sure enough, through the open glass windows of the conference room I see Brynn hovered over a laptop, with some dude right beside her.
I back up a bit, observing them from where they can't see me. I feel a little bad, but my guilt is outweighed by my curiosity. And my jealousy.
The guy looks like a typical New Yorker. Skinny and in shape, with fancy clothes and a pretty face. Just looking at him, I can tell I could beat him up even easier than I beat up those fucking clowns. If I have to. And as he reaches his arm over Brynn's to take the mouse and show her something on the computer, I realize I just might have to.
She shrugs and then shuts the laptop. She gathers her stuff up, obviously hurrying to meet me at the designated time. Well, that's good news at least. She hasn't forgotten all about my trip into the big city to visit her, which she insisted on.
She'd even offered to take some time off work during the week day— which I know is a big deal for a busy associate lawyer like her— and meet me at the airport. But I'd told her I would just take the New York metro subway I'd heard so much about and come to her office.
I start walking away and then I see her office not far up ahead.
BRYNN ELLIOT, ESQ., announces the plaque on the door.
Very impressive. I've never had my own name on anything. I've never had my own office. Unless you count the inside of a fucking chopper.
As I'm staring at the plaque and marveling at that accomplishment, Brynn and the guy walk out of the conference room together.
"Just let me know when you want to talk more," he says, putting a hand on her shoulder.
"I'll be in touch," she says, turning towards me and then stopping in her tracks. "Larson, this is..."
"Oh, perfect, so now he's here?" He asks, in a mocking tone with a sneer I wish I could wipe off his pretty- boy face. "What is this? Bring an outlaw to work day? Show some rogue Western biker the Big Apple?"
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