by Rie Warren
“Who said anything about that fat bastard. The only thing I meditate about is pussy.”
“Otherwise known as wet dreams.” I slid the fresh beer to Tail.
“I got a wet dream right here in my pants.”
“Because you have an early release problem. ’S’what I heard.” I lifted an eyebrow at Tail.
He cranked an arm around my neck. “Braw, if I didn’t love you so much I’d kick your ass for that.”
“Ready to take it outside when you are.”
“Oh, I heard about that. Brodie Steele likes to cop a feel in public.”
I slid out of his hold. “That happened once.”
“Twice.”
“Maybe.” Tuck and Handsome stared at me. “I’m talking about fucking babes in public, not dudes. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Jesus, my future braw-in-law was gay for a couple days with Stone.”
“Plus Stone’s boy Javier has a sweet ass.” Tuck chuckled.
“And a sweet boyfriend named Tate who would probably fuck up anyone who so much as came onto his man. It’s kinda cute.” Tail looked wistful for a moment.
Tail had been my buddy in high school. Back then we’d been a couple of jackasses and part-time basketball jocks, in between smoking joints in the locker room. Tail was Taylor. He always snapped up the tastiest tail unless I got there first. And he used to be after my sis, Cat. He’d been Cat’s tail so to speak until Boomer and I gave him the lowdown on what would happen if he so much as said boo to Cat. Something ugly that would’ve included more than just losing his famed dick.
“Hey, are we here to have fun, get fucked, stoned, blown, or what? Time to lay some cherries.” Tail slung his arm around me and dragged me into the melee.
Smoky, muggy, murky, perfect. Bikers still streamed in from the outside. The overcrowded room quickly overheated. Sweat dripped down my back. The moist heat embraced me like a sleek hot pussy.
We shouldered our way to the middle of the bar. The place was stacked like the bikes outside. Elbow-to-elbow, twenty-deep, hot, and out to have a good time. There was no bucking bronco or bull ride but a bucking chopper set up in the middle of the mobbed floor. There weren’t any cushy landing pads for pussies who couldn’t handle the chrome stallion, who fell off to bleed out or bust a nose. Just the concrete floor.
“What’d I miss?” Our newest member lumbered between Tail and me.
“Your dick,” I said.
“It’s too small.” Tail rapped my knuckles.
“Don’t worry. We don’t blame you.” I winked at the newest kid who wanted to be part of our charter.
The probie had a name—I thought—but damned if I could remember it. The boy was wet behind the ears. Probably had a wet nurse, too. And not in the kinky, sexy kind of way.
“Get us a round,” I said.
“Of . . . uh . . . drinks?” Probie stammered.
“No. Girls. Jesus.” Tail smacked the back of his head.
“But I don’t think—”
I took pity on our youngest member who shaved clean and looked fresh out of high school. “A round of drinks.” I unfolded a fifty and slid it into his palm. “Don’t forget a Shirley Temple for yourself.”
“You’re such a dildo.” Probie pouted.
“Aww, and you’re the cutest little butt plug I ever did see.” I got in his face. “PS. Shit-stain. You’re on toilet cleaning duty for two months once we get back to Rancho Del Retribution.”
He ambled to the bar with a low, “Fuuuuck.”
“You’re wearing the VP vest well,” Tuck mentioned.
“Isn’t he just?” A feminine voice worked into my ear as slim fingers wormed beneath the waist of my leathers.
Oh, Christ. Not that cherry. Leta had popped hers long before I’d done her, Tail had done her, Tuck had probably done her, too. She was an MC wench. She had a bad habit of hanging on and hanging around.
I pushed Leta’s hands away and moved on. She was with our sister charter: the First Ladies of Redemption. She was numero uno there, but persona non grata with me. One fast fuck did not merit future nuptials.
I wanted to get laid, pure and simple. To finally ditch the years of grief and get on with my life . . . with a baptismal fuck or a few.
“Buy you a drink?” A buxom boobs-out brunette sidled up to me.
Absolution by orgasm was headed my way.
I laid my hands on the bar. My rings flashed in the low lights. Chunky and silver, they spelled out FUCK and OFF. I wore them for special occasions only. The tats that covered my arms trailed onto the backs of my hands. The words Forever and Never curled among the red Chinese dragons and green serpents and black ink that ran from my shoulders to my biceps and along my forearms.
I watched in the mirror behind the bar as the woman slid beside me. My blond hair tangled to my shoulders. My eyes—ice blue like Cat’s—flickered to the chicky. The muscles in my arms stood out as I clenched my fists and released them.
I saw the dancing babe beyond us. I couldn’t keep my eyes off her even as I nodded at the sweet thing beside me. The sexy woman taking center place on the floor . . . I was sure I knew her, but I couldn’t place her. Maybe I’d done her in a previous life. She had blonde hair with pink streaks, and piercings all the way up her lobes, visible when she rolled her head back. Christ. It looked like she was about to come because of the music alone.
“I’ll get the first round.” I turned a smile to the woman at my side. “Two shots of Patron.” I knocked my rings on the bar as I placed the order.
We clanked our glasses together, and I watched the woman drain hers.
“I’m Jerry.” Her full pink lips curved in a smile.
Jerry, not Cherry, I’ll have to remember that. “Brodie.” I smirked.
“You dance?” She licked the last remnants of alcohol from her lips.
“Not really.” I scratched the stubble on my jaw.
“Shame.”
“You ride?” I asked after polishing off my Patron.
“Not really.” She brushed a hand across mine. “I’m more of a chopper-hopper.”
So she was on the lookout for some MC daddy to be her permanent old man. Not my gig. “Shame,” I said, getting ready to cut my losses.
Handsome stepped in. “Gonna introduce the rest of us?”
I made the intros between Jerry-not-Cherry and Handsome, Tail, and Tuck, hoping she’d hop on one of their hogs instead. Eventually she led me and my tribe to her group of girls, all women out for some rough loving for the night.
None of them did anything for me. I wanted to get laid, but I wasn’t into having it thrown in my lap. Besides, I was still jonesing for the hottie who’d started gathering more than a few admirers on the dance floor. She swiveled with her back to me. Her head was thrown back. It was that fucking song from Josh Stone’s stag party. “She Rides” by Danzig. Last time I’d heard it I’d been pissed off. This time, holy fucking shit, my mouth went dry. My cock turned into a rock solid rod in my pants.
The woman swayed. Her half-cut road-bitch T-shirt rode up when she raised her arms above her head. It revealed the smooth toned skin of her midriff and a tat. Orange lilies of some kind or other wound around the middle of her body, disappearing into the opposite side of her low cut leathers. Her leathers dripped down her hourglass waist.
That’s what I’m looking for.
Sexy, but not slutty. A little bit trashy, but not trying to flaunt it. She danced like she didn’t have a care in the world, and she didn’t give a shit if anyone paid attention to her. That meant a whole lot of men were glued to her sinuous, unselfconscious movements. Dancing by herself, for herself, dreamily lost in her own world. My gaze was locked on her too.
I strode up behind her. I’d only seen the side of her face, and I wanted the full frontal. As I slipped against her, one hand running across the soft skin of her stomach, I glimpsed her closed eyes, her smiling lips, and the almost fucking orgasmic look on her face.
She melted against
me. We started to move together, my hips against her perfect, ripe ass. Heat coiled between us and her smile grew into a grin.
Brushing her hair aside, I lowered my lips to her ear. “You ride?”
“A bike and a cock, baby. But I’m choosy.” She grinded against my dick and brought her hands to my thighs, gripping the hard muscles.
“You said you don’t dance!” Jerry appeared with a screech.
Shit, the other honey. She was as bad as Nick’s harpies at Stone’s wedding, the one or two I’d boned to get them off his back.
My dancing babe turned in my arms to glare at Jerry. “Do you mind? You’re harshing my mellow mood.”
That voice. That face. And where the hell had that body come from?
My mouth dropped open. Jerry shrieked off to the pool tables. The woman in my embrace went completely fucking still as the music continued to spill around us.
Oh fuck no.
I dropped my hands like she was on fire and about to burn me
“You?” She stepped back.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I rubbed one palm down my jaw as I stared at Officer motherfucking Ashe goddamn Kingston.
The woman I hated. The beauty I’d just decided to bag and bang for the night. It was the principle of the thing. I was here to get my rocks off, not get a badge shoved in my face. Ashe got under my skin like no one else, but she wasn’t going to get into my leathers or my head anymore. She probably had a crusade against Retribution, come to think of it.
She also knew the entire sick history about me, Cat, my folks. I didn’t like anyone outside of my MC to know the real raw deal.
“Bike Week, Brodie. Just like you. If you don’t mind, I’ll get back to it.” Ashe started moving away.
I whipped her back with a hand wrapped around her waist. “So you think you can just turn this off?”
“What?” She looked up at me. I saw how big her silvery gray eyes were for the first time.
How to put it politely? This was my cock practically shredding through my leathers because she was suddenly so hot to me I couldn’t even see any other broad in the place. For a second it didn’t matter how much bad blood was between us. But I’d never admit that out loud.
“Nothing,” I muttered. Fuck. Bad start to a good week.
I stalked away. Tuck and Tail hind-legged it after me.
“Was that who I think it was?” Tail drawled.
“Yep.”
“So?”
“So we pretend she isn’t here, and I didn’t just hump her on the dance floor.” I took a long drink of beer then shook my bottle at them. “And we never mention it again, especially not around Boomer.”
An hour later, Ashe was on the Bucking Chopper. She handled it like she knew exactly what she was doing. Her thighs gripped. Her upper body relaxed. Her head tossed back in ecstasy. She drew a drooling bunch of dickheads to her. They were probably thinking the same thing as me: Christ, the things I bet she can do in bed.
Whoa, hoss.
Before I knew it, I was back at the bar and held two longnecks in my hands. Approaching Ashe was a really fucking bad idea, but I almost didn’t care. No Jerry or Cherry or wannabe Harley momma was gonna cut it for me.
“I brought you a beer,” I said as Ashe hopped off the mechanical chopper. “Dance?”
Ashe accepted the drink and took a swallow. I watched every move from her naturally red lips to her neck bobbing like it would when she took my dick down her throat. Instead of answering, she looped her arms around my shoulders.
I placed my hands just above her ass where the leather stretched tight and heat emanated from her skin. She felt good. She didn’t flap her gums. She moved like sin.
“I figured you’d probably ignore me for the rest of the week.” Ashe’s hips rocked against my throbbing erection.
“Tried that.”
She pulled back. “For a whole hour?” Her brown eyes shined with amusement.
“It’s a well-known fact we hate each other.” My thigh sliding between hers gave lie to that notion.
“Baby, if you think I hate you, you must really think I rock when I like someone.” She anchored the seam of her pants against my solid thigh, riding me up and down.
I gripped her hips to move her harder against me. “Ashe, this is not a good idea.”
“It’s Bike Week. We’re not supposed to be good.” She leaned up to lick my earlobe. “We’re supposed to be bad.”
“Christ.” I ground out.
“I’m not looking for a good boy to bring home to Momma if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“What if I’ve had enough of your shrew tongue?”
“Then you'll never find out what else I can do with my tongue, will you?” Her hot mouth drifted to the corner of my lips as my brain cells went kaboom, and my cock did a touchdown dance. “What happens at Bike Week stays at Bike Week. When we get back to Mount Pleasant no contact, no phone calls, no issues. Just you and me, for one week only.”
“No way.” I clenched her closer. “I prefer anonymous hook-ups.”
“I’m sorry, did you say hookers? You know that’s an illegal offense, right?”
“But you’re not on duty.”
“That’s right. So the offer still stands.”
“Why?”
“I may be a cop, Brodie, but I’m still a woman.”
No shit. I’d never seen Officer Kingston out of uniform. And she was waaay out of uniform here. Jesus. I’d also never seen the policewoman be anything but professional to a T. Now she was fucking with my head. I could clearly see she was all-woman, stacked in just the right places. And something in me reacted to her like never before. Mainly, my cock.
“And I think you’re hot.” With her arms wound around my neck, she rose to her tiptoes to whisper in my ear, “You’re raw and dangerous.” Her fingers tugged my hair with just the right amount of force, sending a jolt of excitement to my cock. “I bet you look damn good naked. And I figure you know how to fuck long and hard.”
Goddamn if I didn’t shudder and groan.
“I’ll show you an illegal offense, Officer PD Law.” My hands scooped under her half-shirt to feel the undersides of her breasts. They were heavy in my palms. She twisted further into my hands.
“I don’t think you have the balls to follow through,” she challenged.
I’d never backed away from a dare before. But fuck my bike, this was Ashe motherfucking Kingston. The woman I had a deep grudge against. “You arrested my sister!”
“Mind taking your hands off my tits when you yell at me?”
I dropped back a step.
She got in my face. “I probably changed her life.”
“And ruined the rest of ours at the same time.”
She paled. “That’s not fair and you know it.” Her words were strong, but her voice came out weak.
“Shit. I’m sorry.”
Before she could reply, I hit the can, checked my bike outside, and paced the parking lot with a cig clamped between my teeth. Maybe it was my own guilt, my own blame eating me up inside. If I’d paid closer attention to Cat maybe I could’ve stopped her before she went full-blown smack addict on us. If I’d been driving our folks that night, maybe I could’ve avoided the accident. I stamped on my cigarette butt. I sat on my bike and thought about baling out on the rest of the night.
There were plenty of other men interested in Ashe. Let one of them take her for a ride. I didn’t have to go back inside. I didn’t have to see her again.
But I wanted to.
There was a pool game in action when I joined my tribe. Ashe held a cue, lifting eyes that were less sparkly to mine when she saw me. For a moment my heart did the wrecking ball thing in my chest. But I didn’t need anyone’s pity or sympathy. What was done was done. At least Cat had survived.
I watched the game, waiting for my turn. I rolled my neck and grinded my teeth and cracked my knuckles every time another and another guy talked to Ashe. Sure as shit I wasn’
t interested in any of the ladies who approached me while I idled by the pool table. Eeny, Meany, Miney, Oh, Hell no.
Ashe had wiped the table clean. She nodded at me to start a new game. I broke, hitting a solid into the pocket. Our group hung out, hooked up, split off. I couldn’t keep my eyes away Ashe.
Every time she leaned over to hit her mark I was treated to more than an eyeful of her bouncy ample breasts. A thin trickle of sweat streaked down her cleavage about the time my cock burbled out another drop of precome.
“Aren’t you cold?” I asked as she stood up and her nipples did, too, after she banked and pocketed her ball.
“No. Does it look like I am?”
Christ, no. That was the problem. Ashe looked ready for a long, hard, loud fuck, like she’d said.
She racked up because I was too slack-jawed to do anything but think about how fast I could get her across my Harley, into my room, and onto my hard cock.
Tuck and Tail and Handsome headed to the hotel with Probie and probably myriad women in tow, but I couldn’t leave until I made sure Ashe was safely tucked in bed. Riiiight.
She won again. She rounded the table, pool cue in hand. “If the answer’s no, why are you still hanging around? You’re alone after two dozen chicks probably begged you to take them to bed.”
I arched an eyebrow. Was Officer Kingston jealous?
I grinned. Grabbing her stick, I ran it lightly up and down the seam of her pants. I felt the heat coming off her and wondered just how soaking wet she was. I laid the cue on the table and jerked her against me.
“Is this why you always act like such a bitch around me?” I fisted her hair. “You just wanted to go for a ride on my cock all these years?”
“Maybe. Doesn’t explain why you’ve been such an asshole though.”
“Wench,” I hoarsely whispered, drawing my mouth down her neck.
Ashe wriggled her hand into my leathers. Her eyes widened in surprise just before mine rolled back possibly never to be seen again. Her fingers tickled the long thick underside of my cock. Her moan was half-gasp, half-holy fuck. She fondled my frenny ladder that led all the way up to the Prince Albert piercing through the head of my cock.