by Chiah Wilder
He watched her for a long while, excited by the way her toned body moved. No one else appeared to be in her small carriage house that backed up to a dark alley. It was a perfect location for him to slip in and out without detection.
After an hour, the woman went to a back room, closed her blinds, and soon the lights switched off. He became a part of the shadows in the inky blackness. Only a sliver of moon hung in the dark sky; it was a perfect night for hunting.
As an owl hooted, its cry—forlorn and dismal—piercing the stillness of the night, he walked around back and cut her window screen. Like a lion on the prowl, he silently slipped into the small home. Waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, he illuminated his way with his cell phone, his ears pricked for any sound. The soft, even breathing from a room to the right told him she was in there. His brown eyes blinked rapidly, and he wet his lips as a tightness formed in his pants.
He padded over to the room and stood in the doorway, his lust-filled gaze raking over her figure. From the sound of her breathing, he knew she was sleeping. A large smile broke out over his face as he stalked to her. In one movement, he had her on her back, duct tape over her mouth before he quickly secured her hands, her bulging eyes and trembling chin giving him a rush. He tied her legs to the bed, then relaxed. He now had a few hours before sunrise, and he could do a lot. Taking out his pocket knife, he slowly cut away her nightgown.
Small whimpers emitted from Amber Hewett’s throat. She’d woken up to a nightmare where the bogeyman was real, and happy endings didn’t happen.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Kimber shuddered when she read about the previous night’s rape and murder of another woman not too far away from her neighborhood. Why can’t the cops find this psycho? A weighted feeling came over her as she thought of the woman who’d lost her life to a madman. The poor woman never would have imagined when she’d gone to bed that she wouldn’t see the sunrise; her life was at the mercy of the killer.
Sighing, she closed the paper and poured herself another cup of coffee. The previous night, a woman had lost her life and Kimber had gained one. She’d been floundering ever since her dad had been killed on his motorcycle, and Chewy had not even come close to filling her life. And then she’d met Throttle, a man she’d thought would be the least likely to occupy her heart and soul. Little did she know when she’d first met him—pissed as hell at her for working on Banger’s bike—that he’d invade her dreams and her life.
Since she’d left Chewy, she’d tried to forget about bikers and their world, but the truth was she loved them and their way of life. She loved living against the grain, not conforming to what society dictated. Since she’d ridden her first Harley, she’d been hooked on the machine, the men who rode them, and the men who gave the finger to socially accepted standards.
She’d fought her attraction and feelings for a long time and it didn’t work; she was in love with Throttle. Just thinking those words made her giddy and jittery. She was pretty sure he cared about her, but she wasn’t sure if he was in love with her. But she didn’t care. For the first time in her life, she’d found a good-hearted, tough, kickass guy who treated her like a lady—no man had ever treated her like that.
She stared out her window and watched the sprinkler water her neighbor’s grass, the drops dancing in the air before they came down and were absorbed by the thirsty lawn. Throttle had been an angel the night before—never thought “Throttle” and “angel” would be in the same sentence—and she wanted to have him over for a nice dinner. She’d tell him she loved him even if he balked and ran from her. She picked up her phone and sent him a text.
Kimber: Hi. Thinking about u.
Throttle: I like that. Thinking bout u too.
Kimber: Come over for dinner 2nite. Making something good.
Throttle: Yeah? I’m in. Would love to taste your cooking and other things.
Kimber smiled and reread the text. That simple message went straight to the throb between her legs. Damn. There’s something about him that gets me all hot and bothered.
Kimber: Bad boy. I hope u stay that way.
Throttle: No plans on changing.
Kimber: See you at 7ish?
Throttle: Can’t wait, babe.
Butterflies swarmed her stomach, and she placed her hand on it and pressed hard to quell the fluttering. What if Throttle didn’t want anything more than casual sex and some laughs? She was taking a big chance revealing her love to him, but she couldn’t contain it any longer. If he bolted, then at least she’d had the best time in her life for a couple months.
She ambled over to the cupboard and pulled out her mother’s recipe box—the one thing she cherished the most from her—and flipped through the cards until she found the one for crispy oven fried chicken. In her opinion, her mom’s fried chicken recipe was the best she’d ever tasted. Mashed potatoes with sour cream and chives, a crisp cucumber and tomato salad, and her father’s bacon baked beans should take care of Throttle’s stomach. Later, she’d take care of the rest of him. With a devilish grin curling her lips, she sat down and made out her grocery list.
* * *
“Steel’s asked for our help down south. Seems that punk club, the Skull Crushers, is infringing on their turf. Since the Night Rebels are our affiliates, we gotta help ‘em. Anyway, I don’t like the punk shits for nothing.” Banger jutted out his chin.
“They don’t think we’re in with the Night Rebels, otherwise they’d leave it alone. I heard their fuckin’ prez ‘bout died when he got the care package we sent them.” Throttle laughed.
“Heard one of the fuckers we eliminated was the prez’s brother. Guess he wants to join him.” Chas narrowed his eyes. “I can’t stand these wannabe outlaws who don’t know shit about what the brotherhood means.”
“Me neither,” echoed Jax. “What are we gonna do?”
Banger narrowed his eyes. “Also, the word’s out that the sonsofbitches are wearing a ‘Colorado’ bottom rocker.”
The membership exploded. The bottom rocker always stated the location of the territory belonging to an outlaw club, and Colorado was Insurgents territory; it had been since 1976 when the MC staked its claim. The importance of it was that no other club could use the state on its bottom rocker—no exceptions. The Skull Crushers, either through ignorance, sheer stupidity, or arrogance, had violated that rule. When an offending club wore the bottom rocker, they were asking for a violent confrontation. The Insurgents were more than ready and willing to defend their territory.
“Fuck that!” many members yelled, their fists pounding walls, tables, and chairs. Several members threw their chairs against the concrete walls, splintering the wood frames. For an MC to even consider wearing a bottom rocker claiming the Insurgents territory was an offense that called for immediate, violent punishment.
Hawk held up his hands. “A few days ago, several of these fuckers forced an Insurgent in northern Colorado off the road and beat him with chains, hammers, and pipes, and then they stole his bike. We can’t let that shit go unpunished.”
“When the fuck we gonna straighten these fuckers out?” Jax asked, the vein in his neck throbbing. “We should leave after church.”
“I say we annihilate ‘em. There’s no mercy for fuckers who pull that shit.” Rags stood tall, his shoulders straight. “No way is that gonna be tolerated.”
“Steel thinks they got the support of the Demon Riders, which means indirect support from the Deadly Demons.” Hawk crossed his arms.
“I know I keep saying it every time the bastards’ club comes up, but we shoulda fuckin’ killed Dustin and Shack when we were in Nebraska,” Chas said.
“You’re right, and we’ve had nothin’ but fuckin’ problems with them and the renegade Insurgents who followed those two to the Demon Riders. Fuck, we never had troubles with the club before. They stayed in Iowa and we stayed in Colorado. Now there’s all kinds of shit going down. I wouldn’t be surprised if these Skull Crusher assholes were put together by t
he Demon Riders. They just popped up after Dustin and Shack patched in with ‘em. We gotta show them we don’t take shit from nobody.” Banger pounded his fist on the table.
“Banger and I talked some, and the best way to handle this is for a group of us to go down to Alina and pay them a surprise visit. We’ll beat their asses good, rip off their patches, and burn them. Then—”
“We need to blow their clubhouse to hell and back, and not give a fuck if one or all of them dies. They can’t mess with the Insurgents.” Throttle’s nostrils flared as his face heated.
“As much as I agree with Throttle, we can’t kill any of the fuckers. Maiming is okay, but killing will bring the fuckin’ badges breathing down our backs. With the shit we got going in Denver, we can’t risk any more attention. We gotta make sure we beat them good, but keep them breathing.”
“When do we leave?” Throttle asked as he cracked his knuckles.
“I want to send about ten of our brothers: Hawk, Throttle, Jax, Axe, Jerry, Bear, Bones, Ace, Tigger, and Hoss. Steel and his brothers will also be helping out on this mission. You’ll be leaving in about an hour or two. I’ll leave the particulars of the attack to Hawk and Jax, who’ll be coordinating with Steel. Any questions?”
With his boot, Throttle pushed away from the wall. “Can the club spare one of the prospects to watch out for my woman?” The members sniggered. “I don’t feel comfortable leaving her unprotected since it seems like someone’s targeted her.”
Banger scrubbed his face and tugged his beard. “I didn’t know you had a woman.”
Some of the guys yelled, “A woman who can fix his Harley.” Then a group of them made sucking noises. Throttle clenched his jaw and stared at his president.
Banger narrowed his eyes. “Is this the woman you made all the fuss about at Hawk’s shop?” Throttle grumbled his assent. “I can have one of the prospects watch her until you get back, but tell her you’re doing that. I don’t want her calling the badges on him. Anymore questions?” The membership stayed silent. “Church adjourned.” The gavel echoed in the quiet room. The brothers slowly stood from their chairs and filed out of the room.
Throttle took the stairs two at a time and rushed into his room. He threw a few necessities in a small bag and dashed down the stairs, bumping in to Hawk. “Sorry, man. When do we leave?”
Hawk glanced at his watch. “It’s twelve thirty now. Say two o’clock. Everyone’s to meet in the club parking lot.”
“Sounds good. I’ll be there.” He hustled out of the club, placed his bag in his saddlebags, and took off, leaving a trail of dust behind him.
When he pulled into Kimber’s driveway, he texted Dawn to let her know he’d be gone for a few days. She didn’t ask any questions—after seventeen years of dealing with his outlaw biker ways, she knew he wouldn’t answer them. It’d taken him a while to have her understand his world, but she’d finally caught on and it made things a lot easier and smoother.
He rang the doorbell and in a few seconds, the door flew open and Kimber burst through the screen door, falling into his arms and peppering his face with kisses. “You’re here. I didn’t expect you in the middle of the day. What a great surprise. I was just getting ready to go to the grocery store.”
“Babe,”—he turned her face to his and placed his nose on hers—“I gotta take a raincheck on that dinner. I’m gonna be gone for a few days on club business.” His heart lurched when he saw her face morph from extreme bliss to sadness. Her small pout was damn cute, and he caught it with his mouth and kissed her deeply.
“Is the club business dangerous?”
The hitch in her voice surprised him. He pressed her closer to him. “No, babe. You smell amazing, and the way you feel in my arms is making me fucking horny.” Her small laugh landed right on his dick. “I got a little bit of time. I want to taste you so I have you on my lips when I leave.”
She squeezed him and traced circles on his back with her fingertips. Burying her face in his chest, she murmured, “I don’t want you to go.”
He kissed her head. “I know, babe, but I’ll be back before you know it. And one of the prospects is gonna keep an eye on you while I’m gone. I don’t want anything to happen to you. I don’t know who it’ll be, but you’ll know him by his cut.” She nodded, her head still snug against him. The way she clung to him made him feel warm inside. She was acting different, but he couldn’t quite pinpoint why. “Babe? You gonna give me something sweet before I leave?” He tilted her chin up, then kissed her softly on her lips.
She nodded. “Just promise me you’ll come home safe, okay?”
“Okay.” He kissed her again, that time more urgently and much wetter. Taking her hand, he entered the house, kicking the door closed behind him. He slowly stripped off her clothes and laid her naked body on the bed, his gaze raking over her ripeness. Her nipples were hard, her desire for him making them that way; it grabbed his dick hard. Very hard.
He quickly shrugged off his boots and clothes and slid next to her. With his finger, he traced a trail from her forehead down to her feet, blowing lightly. Tiny bumps appeared on her skin as he felt her shiver under his touch. “You are so beautiful,” he said softly.
He bent his head down and kissed her, his tongue entering her mouth, twisting and plunging deep. She hooked her arms around his neck and returned the kiss as he swallowed her small moans. Then he nipped, licked, and kissed his way to her tits, where he massaged and played with them as he sucked deeply on her hard nipples. She writhed underneath him, moaning, “Oh, Throttle.” Hearing her say his name fueled his desire.
He pushed up and pulled her toward him. “I want you to sit on my face. I want to eat your sweet pussy.”
He lay back and she crawled up to him. Then he positioned her over his face and, with his fingers digging into her soft flesh, he guided her hips down until she was a couple inches away, her sweet sex right over his mouth. “That’s it.” He massaged her wet mound. “This is all for me.”
“Always and forever,” she breathed as she threw her head back.
He swept his tongue over her wet folds and she gasped, igniting his fire even more. As he licked her, he squeezed her ass with one hand and tweaked and pinched her nipple with another. He couldn’t get enough of her taste, her touch—just her. Never had he experienced such a longing for a woman. She reached back and clasped her hand around his hard-as-fuck dick. Bolts of pleasure zinged through him. “I love the way you touch my cock, babe.”
“I want to take it in my mouth. All of it,” she panted as she continued to move her hand up and down.
“I can fix that.” He gently pushed her away. “Bend over me so your mouth has my cock, and I can finish licking your tasty pussy.” And it was tasty, like almonds and honey, and it was fast becoming his favorite flavor. He craved her—she lived in his dreams and thoughts. He went to bed thinking of her and woke up wanting her. Even when they were together, eating, watching TV, or talking, he craved her. All of her, all the time. She was the only woman who ever commanded such attention. And he was fucking hooked. All the way.
As she sucked his cock and played with his balls, he lapped her juicy sweetness in long strokes while two fingers sank into her, moving in and out. Her moans vibrated against his dick and he wanted to stay like that forever, licking her pussy while finger-fucking her as she sucked his cock. Her nub was swollen and peeking from its hood, and he flicked the tip of his tongue over it, loving the way it hardened under his touch. Savoring her scent and taste, he slid his tongue over her again and again as he tugged and played with her tits. She moaned loudly, her breathing growing shallow.
Then she took his hardness all the way back in her mouth as far as it would go and began swallowing, taking his head even further into her throat. A feral grunt broke through his lips, and every nerve in his body was fired up. Each swallow took his dick further, and the muscles of her throat felt like she was milking his cock.
“Fuck, Kimber. You’re killing me. Fuckin’ love it.” H
is voice was so hoarse, he didn’t even recognize it.
Her juicy walls clamped around his fingers, and her low guttural groan pulsed in his ears. She went over the edge just as the tension surged through his dick, releasing ribbons of hotness into her tight mouth. Her thighs seemed to have given out and she collapsed on him, his softened dick still inside her mouth. “Babe,” he croaked. “Get the fuck up here.” She turned around and scooted up to him and he held her close, kissing her forehead as she held his spent dick in her warm hand. A cozy feeling surrounded him, and he knew what he had with her was special and something he wanted for a very long time. “You’re incredible.” He raked his fingers through her hair.
“No one has ever made me come like you have.” She snuggled closer to him.
Was that all he was to her, someone to make her come good and hard? He wanted her to feel more for him than that. When he came back, they’d have to talk. He didn’t want her to walk away from him after the desire waned. For him, he knew he’d always desire her—she was the perfect complement to him.
His phone vibrated and he glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It was almost two o’clock. He picked up his phone.
“On my way,” he said.
“We’re leaving in twenty minutes. Make sure your ass is here.” Hawk’s gruff voice told Throttle he was irritated, but he didn’t care; he’d had a burn only Kimber could’ve put out. She fucking rocked his world.
He grunted and then hung up the phone, sitting up. “Gotta go, babe.” He put on his clothes and watched as she went over to the dresser, loving the way she jiggled in all the right places. She slipped a long T-shirt over her head before they padded out of the bedroom and went to the front door. He drew her to him and kissed her deeply, the taste of both of them in their mouths. “You take care of yourself. Tell the prospect if something spooks you. Got it?”