Hard Rider (A Bad Boy Motorcycle Club Romance)

by Wild, Nikki

  “I wouldn’t put it past you to try.”

  He smirked. “No, I’m here to tell you that you are going to steal that car by the weekend. If you don’t, then things will get ugly.”

  “How many times do I have to tell-”

  “She sure is a pretty girl, isn’t she?”

  I saw red, but I knew I couldn’t charge.

  “Works down at the Hawthorne building, doesn’t she?” he continued.

  “You better stay the hell away from her,” I growled. “I swear, if you even think about-”

  “Don’t say something you can’t back up,” he warned. “Because I’ve already thought about it. Not only have I thought about it, but my people have information on where she lives, too. The girl keeps a pretty tight schedule so it’s not hard to find her.”

  “You fuckin’ scumbag. If you touch her-”

  “We won’t have to get to that point if you just do your job. There’s no reason for this to get ugly.”

  Riley had been through enough. I couldn’t even think about getting her mixed up in something like this, especially after what she’d just been through.

  “Alright,” I said. “Whatever you want.”

  He seemed surprised but he tried to hide it. “Good. I’m glad you’re thinking with a clear head now. And, you know what I want. That car needs to be in one of my garages by Saturday.”

  He climbed off the motorcycle and offered it to me. His men stepped back.

  “If I do this job… are we square?” It was more of a statement than a question. We were square.

  Ortiz nodded slowly. “Do this for me and you can go about your happy life. Maybe even marry that girl,” he grinned. “I know I would.”

  I bared my teeth but thought better of saying anything. There was no use. I just had to get this done.

  Riley

  There was something different about him tonight. He was still as charming as ever—I didn’t think he could hide that if he tried—but there was a darkness in his eyes. I couldn’t put my finger on what it was. Something weighed heavy on his mind, even though he denied it.

  I tried to keep myself from speculating. If he’d slipped up, I probably didn’t want to know about it. The image of that gun popped into my head again. I thought about asking him if he still had it.

  “Troy, do you… do you want another glass?” I held the wine bottle up but he waved me off with a smile. I’d save the tougher questioning for later.

  “What are you gonna do now?” he asked. “I mean, you only have, what, three days left at the office?”

  “Two,” I corrected. “Two more days.”

  Troy laughed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to give you a longer sentence than you deserved.”

  “And, what am I going to do? I guess… whatever I want. I don’t know, I’ve never really had any free time. Maybe I’ll take up fighting,” I teased.

  “You’re mean enough to be good at it,” he fired back.

  “Hey!”

  I playfully tossed a couch pillow at him. He swatted it away. “You’re gonna have to do better than that if you want to beat me.” He was relaxing in my love seat with his leg hung over the side.

  “Oh, yeah? What about this?” I leapt out of my chair and did what I could only describe as a cannon ball toward the center of his chest. When I landed on him, it felt like hitting a brick wall. He was firm from head to toe. There was hardly any fat on him.

  Troy’s strong arms wrapped around my shoulders. He gave a squeeze tighter than a boa constrictor. His chest pressed into my back so hard you couldn’t get us apart with a crow bar. “Okay,” he said. “You’re in a bad spot now, what do you do?”

  I tried to wriggle out of his grasp, but he held tight.

  “No, not like that. You’re wasting your energy.”

  I fought harder.

  “You’re not gonna be able to break out of my grip. One of the first rules of ground fighting is that you never let someone take your back.” I couldn’t see his face, but I could hear him smiling.

  Little did he know, I had him right where I wanted him.

  I pulled my elbow in a torqued my body so I could turn.

  “Good,” he cheered. “You want to create some space between us so you can turn to face me.”

  Using my forearm against his tone abs, I did just that. My hips turned and I was laying on top of him with my nose buried in his neck. The rough stubble on his face grazed my cheek in a way that made me tingle.

  “Now, what do I do?” I asked, getting into the role.

  “You’re on top. That’s a good thing.”

  You have no idea.

  “Now, you want to try to get past my guard.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means you need to get your legs up past my hips, kinda like you’re gonna ride me. It’s called the ‘mount’ position.”

  This was getting better by the minute.

  “But be careful,” he warned. “If you don’t protect your neck, you’ll give me something to attack.”

  Oh, please attack my neck.

  I bucked hard and tried to get my legs over his, but he was too strong. He moved so fluidly from position to position that it made me gain a better appreciation for what he did. It wasn’t just about two guys going in there and swinging at each other until one of them fell down—there was an art to this.

  I reached across his body to try to leverage myself up, and that’s where he caught me. Troy pushed my arm across my face and spun me like a top. I laid sideways between his legs as he wrapped an arm around me.

  “Now you fucked up,” he whispered. “I told you to protect your neck.”

  I instinctively grabbed for his bicep, which was pressed firmly against my carotid artery. I felt oddly cozy in his death grip.

  “Feel that?” he asked, flexing the arm that had me.

  “It’s scary,” I said.

  “I know it is. When this is cinched up tight,” he said, bouncing his arm under my chin for effect, “it only takes a couple of seconds to lose consciousness.”

  Troy let go of my neck, but kept my body pinned against his. “That’s intense,” I said.

  “Jiu jitsu is actually a great self-defense tool for women,” he said. “The basic principles are all about leverage and positioning. It’s designed so that a person can control someone much larger than themselves.”

  “Maybe you can teach me more someday.”

  He grinned as wide as the ocean. “I’ll wrestle with you whenever you want me to.”

  I pushed myself up and kissed him softly on the corner of the mouth. “Don’t get my hopes up.”

  Troy cradled my chin in his hand as he propped himself up on one elbow. He was studying me like he wanted to ask something. There was a brief moment where I thought he was going to, but he shook it away and got that mischievous look again, instead.

  I closed my eyes and felt the firm pressure from his lips on my neck. He kissed me just below the ear. Then, I turned into him as he slid down and nipped at my collarbone.

  It was a shameful thought, but the question that had been rattling around in my head about him getting into more trouble was only making things that much hotter. It was an awful thing to think about, and if he did have another scrape with the law I didn’t think I’d be able to trust him, but the fantasy of it made me so horny.

  Troy pushed my tank top straps down and bit my shoulder lightly. My rigid nipples showed beneath the thin fabric.

  “I want you so bad,” he whispered. “I can’t get enough of you. I think about you all the time.”

  His words were simple but they left their mark. I held my thighs together to ease the burden he placed on me. “I want you too, Troy.”

  “Let me see how bad you want me.” He slid off the loveseat and dropped to his knees between my legs. My jeans were tight, but he didn’t have any problem pulling them down. My underwear clung closely to my form. He leaned forward and captured them between his teeth.

  “Oh,
Troy.”

  He jerked them down just far enough to show my pussy. His hot breath mingled with the natural wetting of my body. Troy blew a puff of air on my clit that made me arch my hips to try to reach his mouth. He moved away, committing to the tease.

  I grabbed a fistful of his hair and tried to push him down. He made me wait a second longer and then tasted me greedily. His mouth moved over me like a wet vacuum. “You’re so good… so sweet,” he whispered.

  Troy’s tongue lapped at my juices. His rough cheek scrubbed the inside of my thigh. I twisted and jerked like a bronco. His mouth always stayed in the right place no matter how hard I tried to make him chase it.

  Suddenly, he grabbed my hip with one hand and pushed his face so hard into me that it curled my toes. He was doing whatever he wanted with my body. My legs fell further apart as he put hard pressure on my clit.

  Using his free hand to help, he wriggled his way out of his jeans. I took in the view of his perfect ass as he stroked himself.

  “Troy,” I moaned. “Troy, don’t stop.”

  “I want you ready for me. I want you to come hard.”

  He sucked on my clit while he massaged my butt with his fingertips. When his tongue changed directions, the orgasm released. It shot through me like a bolt of lightning. My body jerked and heaved. Troy eased off the pressure but continued to let his tongue lap between my legs.

  “…nice and wet,” he whispered.

  Troy pushed my legs back and centered himself in front of me. His cocked bounced excitedly between us. I covered myself with my hand. He tried to push it away. “I can’t yet,” I gasped. “Still too sensitive.”

  He hissed between his teeth and straightened his body. I turned on the love seat so I could take him in my mouth.

  “No. I’ll wait,” he said. “I need to be inside you.”

  He helped me lift the tank top over my head. My nipple stuck out above the wiring of my bra. He pinched them gently between his fingers while I recovered.

  I reached my arm over the side of the loveseat and took him in my grasp. He was solid and dangerous-feeling in my hand. The veins and ridges of his thick cock were so apparent in my hand.

  “Take this off,” he said, reaching back to unclasp my bra.

  When it was loose, he tore it away from my chest and flung it behind him. My breasts stacked up like soft snow hills. He reached down and squeezed gently.

  “I’m ready,” I whispered. I didn’t know if I was or not, but I was so hot that it didn’t matter. I needed to have him inside of me. If he didn’t fill me immediately, I felt like I might be lost.

  Troy spun me around to face him again and pushed my legs apart. My canal was coated in juices and ready for him to enter.

  The concentration on his face as he guided the head of his tool for me made goosebumps raise on the back of my neck.

  “Ooosh,” he whispered as he greedily pushed it in.

  “Ahh,” I cried. I squirmed to a more comfortable position so I could better accept him.

  Troy put his hand on his back and guided in slow thrusts. I felt all of his thickness as he reached my full depth. “Yes,” he whispered. “That pussy is so good.”

  I was supple and felt like putty under him. His body worked like a whip as it sent his member to its mark. He was getting more intense with every passing second.

  “Take that dick,” he demanded. “Take it deep.”

  “I will, I will,” I cried out in submission.

  He leaned over me and gave it everything he had. My head bounced with the rhythm of his penetrations. I gripped for the arm of the loveseat. It was all I could do to keep myself grounded.

  “Fuck me,” I screamed.

  “Make me come,” he barked.

  I tightened my pussy and jammed my body on to him. When I did, it sent a shock wave through me. The orgasm had snuck up on me, but it wasn’t going to remain quiet. It hit me with the force of a tidal wave and caused me to kick at his chest to push away.

  I felt his cock twitch just as it slipped out of my canal. Troy groaned as he steadied himself with one arm. I watched silently while I rode out my orgasm. The muscles in his chest flexed and his jaw and neck tightened. He stroked himself hard into my discarded panties.

  Once he’d completely emptied himself, he rolled over and leaned against the base of the loveseat. I laid across it behind him. The back of his neck glistened with the sweat of maximum effort.

  He stayed quiet as he got his breathing under control. The moment was over. Whatever had been bothering him earlier was back. And it looked like it was more present than ever.

  Troy

  I parked my bike under a streetlamp and checked the paper one last time. Thirteen-eighty-four Carter street. That meant it should be less than a block over. I patted my pockets to make sure I still had everything I would need.

  Pliers. Check. Screwdriver. Check. Gloves. Check.

  I decided to go without the gun Ortiz left for me. On the way over, I stopped to drop it off with Eddie. It was his problem now. I would be happy never to see it again.

  Two quick turns later and I could see the car. My breath fogged in front of me in heavy clouds. It was so damn cold tonight that there wasn’t another soul on the street. Despite the chill, it made me thankful I didn’t have to do this in July. Not even cops liked to come out when it was this cold.

  I slipped quietly down the street taking care to avoid the throw of any streetlights. When I turned on to third, I saw it. The car was just as Ortiz had described it: a classic mustang with a paint job that probably cost twenty grand. It was blue and silver with metallic pin striping.

  The house it was parked in front of was still lit up. It was late, but not so late that everyone would be asleep. I hung back in the shadows for a few to try to get a feel for the area. It was way past when anybody should have been coming home from work so I didn’t expect any foot traffic. Regardless, I wanted to make sure I wasn’t walking into a trap.

  After fifteen minutes, I was satisfied. At least, I was satisfied that the conditions weren’t going to get any easier. Standing still for so long had made me stiff. My fingers were numb inside my gloves. I flexed them to get the blood flowing. They’d be useless to me in trying to strip a wire if they were feeling like this.

  Ice crunched under my boots as I crept closer to the Mustang. I didn’t worry about the noise because anyone who’d lived here for at least one winter was accustomed to that sound as part of the city’s soundtrack.

  I ran my gloved hand over the car’s rear fender and followed its bold line. One day, I’d have a car like this. If I knocked enough people out, it would be one day soon.

  There was a war going on inside me over this whole thing. I’d been living on the straight and narrow for so long that this just didn’t seem right anymore. I felt like I was letting Riley down by doing it, but what choice did I have? Ortiz was a threat. He had the reach and means to follow through on what he said. I had to protect her.

  Fuck it. Let’s do this.

  I took the screwdriver out of my pocket and fished its bladed end into the gap where the window disappeared into the door. I maneuvered it around until I felt it catch beneath the locking mechanism. It was a trick I’d learned when I was bored at the shop. Mr. Haye used to let me explore the cars while they were waiting to be repaired. Back then, I just thought it was cool that I was able to do it. I never imagined I ever would need to apply it in a real situation.

  These old cars were the easiest to manipulate. Their locks were simple and they rarely had any kind of alarm system to worry about. That was the first thing I checked for. There were no blinking lights on the dashboard. In my experience, it was true that most of these car guys liked to restore the classics to as close to original as possible; that meant no alarm system.

  There was a ‘click’ and then a ‘pop’ from inside the door. I tried the handle. It pulled open quietly on well-oiled hinges. Once inside, I went to work on dismantling the steering column. I hadn’t pract
iced it in years, but my fingers worked like they’d been doing it daily.

  Everything came apart in my hands like it was supposed to, so I got to work on stripping the wires. Right when I was about to touch them together, I heard the sound of an approaching car.

  I laid flat across the seat. The driver’s side door was already closed behind me. I couldn’t see anything. The car rolled up near the Mustang and slowed. I heard its tires grind on the icy road and come to a stop. Maybe my perception was off, but it sounded like it was idling right next to me.

  I held my breath. Someone got out of the car.

  “Alright man, thanks for the ride.”

  “Definitely.”

  They carried on the conversation for a minute. I exhaled a bit. Neither seemed to be aware that I was in the Mustang. Eventually, they finished up and the car drove off. I heard the other guy’s footsteps clomping up the stairs to the house. He may not have seen me, but he knew the guy I was stealing the car from. Hell, maybe he was the guy.

  As soon as he went inside, I decided it was time to get this done. I took a deep breath and sparked the wires. The engine fired up on the first try. Steam blew out the exhaust pipe and drifted up to the sky.

  Someone in the house yelled. I stomped on the accelerator. The tires spun on the slick ground and I shot out of the parking space like a rocket. The sound of the engine screaming woke up the whole neighborhood.

  C’mon, c’mon.

  The tread gained full traction as I swerved into the roadway. I ducked down behind the steering wheel and leaned into the turn. From the corner of my eye, I could see someone running into the street. Even if they were the kind of people who didn’t mind reporting a stolen car, I wasn’t worried. The warehouse where I was supposed to drop it off was less than two miles away. All I had to do was ditch the car there and my part would be done. Whose problem it became next, wasn’t any of my business.