Christa had joined the party that night. I shouldn’t have let her. I’ve been fuckin’ Christa for a couple of years. She doesn’t do much for me, but pussy’s pussy and when it’s easy, who am I to argue? It don’t matter who I fuck though, since the night I had Lacey, no matter who’s bouncing on my cock, it’s only her I see.
Even though I was beat after Christa had drained my balls and I didn’t think I could come again, I still had to have her wrapped around my cock. When we went to sleep, for the first time in years, I slept with a woman in my arms. It shocked me that I wanted her there, but my gut cramped at the thought of her leaving. I pulled her close to me and slept like a damn baby. She was gone in the mornin’ before I woke, but I’ve been keepin’ an eye on her ever since.
My phone rings and I take my eyes off her to look at the screen. “Roam,” I answer, holding my cell to my ear. “Prez wants you at the meet,” Zeus tells me. “Storage Unit?”
“Yep,” he confirms. “When?”
“An hour.”
“See ya then,” I end the call and after taking one last look at Lacey, I fire up my girl and roll out. The entire ride to meet with our potential new business partners, my mind is filled with Lacey. She’s drivin’ me fuckin’ crazy.
I want her. I want her in my bed and on my bike. Somethin’ about the way she carries herself tells me she’s not like other girls. She’s been broken. I want to fix her.
I just don’t know how I’m goin’ to convince her that I’m the one that’s goin’ to fix her.
I shake my head again to clear my thoughts of her, then I gun my throttle and revel in the roar of the pipes as I coast down the freeway.
This is fuckin’ freedom.
Chapter 7
Three weeks later
“Two Whiskey’s. Neat,” I shout across the bar to Mitch.
He slides the drinks across to me and I take them back to the customers who ordered them.
Twenty Two Oh Eight bar is packed tonight. There are people crammed in everywhere and it’s crossed my mind more than once tonight that it might be a fire or health code violation to have this many people packed in the bar, but it doesn’t seem to be worrying Mitch or Carl (the other bartender) or Candy or Slash (the security guard). So, I try not to let it bother me.
Slash is a beef of a man. Tall, black and built like a mountain. He’s also got a jagged scar running across his cheek. I’m not sure if his nickname is born of the scar on his face or his extracurricular activities, but something tells me it’s probably a bit of both. Carl looks much the same as him, minus the scar, on account of them being brothers.
I do my rounds, squeezing through the throng of people who are all out to listen to Alabama’s hot new rock band, Fury. I stack a bunch of empties in the crook of my arm and start walking back to the bar.
“Hey, darlin’.” I feel his hand touch my leg before he slurs the words at me.
“Get your hand off me,” I snarl back at him. My lip curls as I take in his greasy hair and wrinkled face. He gives me a smile and I notice the tobacco stains on his teeth. I fight the urge to gag. Then, I fight the urge to knee him in the crown jewels when his hand travels up the back of my thigh to squeeze my ass.
“I said; get your fucking hands off me.” I try to jerk away, but his grip is surprisingly strong for a dirty old man.
“C’mon, darlin’. I’m just havin’ some fun,” he grins again.
Just as I’m about to put my load of glasses down, I hear a voice growl from behind me.
“The lady asked you to get your hands off her.”
I freeze and a shiver runs over me. The good kind of shiver.
“Ah, c’mon man. I was just havin’ some fun. She loves it. I can tell,” Old Touchy-Feely whines.
“You best be keepin’ your hands to yourself, old man, or you might find you wake up one day with no hands.”
I swallow. Hard. And judging by the bobbing of his Adam’s apple, so does Old Touchy-Feely.
“You okay, sugar?” His lips rest just below my ear lobe, on my neck, and they move against my skin as he speaks.
“I’m fine,” I whisper through a whole body shudder. A shudder I’m sure he felt because he’s pressed close enough to me.
“Good,” he says. Then his teeth find my lobe and he bites down gently, dragging my flesh through his teeth before releasing me. I resist the urge to either orgasm or spontaneously combust, and instead, I get back to work.
I don’t see him again for the rest of night, but I feel someone watching me the entire time. It’s the same feeling I’ve felt every now and then over the last three weeks. It’s not the usual creepy feeling you get when you feel someone’s eyes on you, it’s a safe feeling.
Hours later, my feet are aching and I can hear my bed calling my name. The band is packing up the last of their instruments and most everybody has gone home for the night. I cash out and then make a quick stop to the bathroom before I leave.
I do my business, wash my hands and then as I open the wooden bathroom door, it pushes back against my hand. I feel my heart thud hard in my chest and my hand automatically reaches up to steady its beat. “Oh, Lord. You scared the hell out of me.”
He looks me up and down, slowly, before his eyes come to rest on mine. His are blazing. He looks like he wants to eat me alive. My knees tremble at the thought and at the same time my stomach clenches.
He removes the toothpick from between his teeth, takes a step forward so the door closes behind him and then he drawls, “Didn’t think I’d just walk away, did you, sugar?”
“Uh...I don’t know,” I squeak. He’s so close, yet so far away. My nostrils are full of his scent – it’s a heady mixture of leather, oil and spice. My nipples tingle and I feel my eyelids lower as my breathing shallows.
How ridiculous am I that a man whose name I don’t even know, can have such an effect on my body?
“C’mere.” His voice is like a whisper, but not. It’s husky and thick, but quiet. A shiver runs through my body before I launch myself at him. His mouth slants down and takes possession of my own, and I am lost to him. Lost in him.
He presses me back against the wall and I feel every hard inch of him caging me in. He deftly removed my jeans and then firm hands grab my ass and lift up. I wrap my legs around his waist and I feel him between us, releasing his cock. I kiss his jaw and lick a trail along his neck while he puts the condom on. Then he thrusts inside.
My back arches and my nerves quiver as he torturously rubs his piercing backward and forward inside me. Steadily, he begins to build until he’s slamming into me. I bite down on his shoulder to muffle the sound of the scream that is begging to be released from my throat.
He reaches down and captures one of my nipples into his mouth, sucking deep.
“Oh, god. Fuck me harder,” I all but scream. Sweat is trickling down my back and I feel so hot. “Oh, god, it feels so good,” I moan as he fills me.
“Sweetest fuckin’ pussy I’ve ever had. Fuckin’ beautiful. So fuckin’ sweet. You like my cock, sugar? You gonna take all of my cock?”
I whimper and feel myself get even wetter at his grunted words. “Yes,” I cry – in answer to his question, or just because it feels good, I’m not sure.
“Yeah, that’s my good girl. Now tighten up that sweet little cunt of yours and come all over my cock,” he breathes in my ear. The he clamps his teeth down on my lobe at the same time as his fingers find my nipple and he grinds his pelvis against me.
“Holy shiiiit,” I scream. My legs tense around him, gluing him to me as I jerk in his arms as my orgasm rips throughout my entire body.
He rams into me once more, before shoving his face into my neck and shuddering through his own release.
“Fuckin’ hell, sugar,” he pants, breathlessly. “So good,” he mumbles.
I lay my head back against the cool wall and try to regain my breath.
A few seconds later, the air in the room changes and I resist a whimper when he pulls out of me. He
lowers me to the ground and I quickly pull my jeans back up and re-button my shirt without looking at him. I hear his own zipper go up and he walks over to the trash can to dispose of the condom.
I know his eyes are on me, waiting for me to look at him, but I can’t, so I kick at the floor with the toe of my boot.
“That should never have happened. That shit won’t happen again.” he states. My eyes snap to his and I look at him, shocked.
Then I get mad. Really mad.
“You,” I shout, pointing my finger at him for emphasis, “followed me in here. I,” I point to myself, “did not ask you to. I cannot believe the kind of asshole you are. You’ve been inside me twice and never even had the fucking courtesy to tell me your name, or ask me mine. Fuck you.”
Then, I do what I do best. I run. Out the bathroom door and straight to my car. When I get to Jenn’s, I run straight into the shower and scrub myself raw in water as hot as I can stand. I scrub away the sickening slut aura that clings to my body and I scrub away his lingering scent.
When I finally get under the covers, I try my hardest to fall asleep, but I can’t stop thinking about him. Eventually sleep finds me, but it isn’t until I see the sun peeking through the curtains, signaling dawn.
Chapter 8
My eyes flutter open, and then slam shut again. I groan. I don’t want to get out of bed. I look over at my alarm clock and groan again. It’s two in the afternoon and I don’t feel like I’ve slept at all.
Last night’s events come rushing back and I rub my temples in an effort to remove them from my mind. It doesn’t work. It never works.
“You awake, Lace?” I hear Jenn tapping on the door as she asks.
“No,” I grumble.
“You look like shit,” she says, giving me a once over. “Are you working today?”
“Thanks,” I say sarcastically. “And, no. I’m not working.” “Good. Want to go for a drive with me? I’m going to visit Gran.” “Sure would. When are you leaving?”
“’Bout an hour, so get your ass up. Gran won’t like it if you show up looking like shit.” She flounces out of the room and I roll over. Grabbing a sucker off my side table, I pop it in mouth and then set about making myself not look like shit.
***
“Here y’all are. I was wonderin’ when you two girls would show up.” Jenn’s Gran hugs us before placing a kiss on top of our heads and asking, “Can I get y’all some sweet tea?”
“Please, Gran.” Jenn nods.
“That’d be lovely, thank you ma’am.”
Jenn’s Gran, Jenna (Jenn was named after her) is her father’s mother. She is the nicest little old lady I’ve ever met. With her slightly graying hair and rounded figure, she’s bubbly and full of good old fashioned Southern hospitality.
“How y’all been? Jenn, you still working at that nightclub place?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And what about you, Lacey Monroe? What’s new with you, child?”
“Uh, not a whole lot, ma’am.” I fucked a guy whose name I don’t know...twice. “I’ve been waitressing at a bar in Salt Rock.”
“That’s good to hear. What about boys? I bet y’all have got ‘em chasin’ you around, everywhere you go.”
I give Jenn a look. She still hasn’t told her parents about Switch, but I’m sure she would have told Gran. Gran is awesome and would never judge someone without reason.
“Things are going well with Switch...” Jenn trails off.
“It’s about time you bought him out here for a visit, don’t you think?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Jenn grins huge.
We sit around sipping sweet tea, chatting and laughing until into the early evening. Then, after another round of hugs and kisses, and a stern reminder that Jenn had better bring Switch on her next visit, we bid farewell to Gran.
The forty five minute drive back to Salt Rock is uneventful and goes by quickly. Before I know it, we’ve pulled into the garage and Jenn is out of the car and rushing inside, mumbling something about being starving and ordering pizza. I follow in behind her and raise my eyebrows when I see she’s already on the phone.
“Yes, one large pepperoni and a large sausage, olive and mushroom. A garlic bread as well, please, and a bottle of Coke.”
“Hungry much?” I mutter, just loud enough for her to hear.
She gives me the finger and turns her attention back to the phone.
I walk in to my bedroom and change into a pair of loose fitting cotton shorts and a pale purple tank top. When I come back out, Jenn is sitting on the couch. She’s changed into her pajamas and the pizza is on the coffee table in front of her.
She stuffs a slice into her mouth and then orders, “Sit.” I laugh, because with her mouthful, it sounds more like, shit.
“Shut up,” she pouts. “Tell me what’s on your mind. You’ve been down all day.”
I take a slice of pepperoni and nibble on the corner. “Nothing,” I reply, a little too defensively.
“Don’t bullshit me, Lacey.”
“I fucked the biker again, last night. Up against the wall in the bathroom at my work, like a dirty whore – and funnily enough, that’s exactly what I feel like. After we’d finished he told me it should never have happened. And to top it off, I still don’t know his name.”
“First, you’re not a whore, Lacey. Don’t ever let me hear you saying that again. Secondly, he clearly can’t resist a Southern Belle such as yourself,” she winks. “Now you got all that off your chest, eat your pizza and stop worryin’ ‘bout silly boys.”
“Easier said than done,” I huff. “I don’t know why it’s bothering me so much.”
I vow to myself that I will stop beating myself up over something that I can’t change. It’s in the past and that’s where the whole fucked up situation will stay.
The next morning, I wake up feeling a darn site better than I did yesterday. I feel so good, in fact, that I roll out my yoga mat and spend the next hour in front of the TV twisting myself into stupid positions the DVD presenter tell me to, for reasons I’m not entirely sure of.
Still feeling good, I make biscuits and gravy with crispy bacon for breakfast for Jenn and me.
“Mmm, smells so good,” Jenn walks in, sniffing the air.
“Help yourself. I’ve already finished.” I watch as she serves herself up a plate and then drops down at the table.
“This is good,” she mumbles around a mouthful of food.
I smile. “You’re so full of manners, Jenn. Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to eat with your mouth full?”
“That’s not what Switch says. He likes the vibrat-,”
“Argh! Oh my god! You did not just go there.” I wave my arms and shout, cutting her off.
She grins like a lunatic and continues eating.
“I’m off to work,” I smile and wave, all the while shaking my head. She’s one of a kind.
I spend the next six hours taking orders, making change and wiping and clearing tables. It’s only four in the afternoon and I have no idea what I’m going to do for the afternoon. I sit in my car and start it up, to head back to Jenn’s when my phone lights up with her name. “Hey,” I greet.
“Hey, you off?”
“Yep, just finished.”
“Thank god. I’m bored. Want to come hang out?”
“Sure, where are you?”
“At the clubhouse. Switch was supposed to be here an hour ago but something came up and he’s running late. Said he’d be here as soon as he could.”
“Okay. I’ll swing by.”
“Thank you!”
It only takes about fifteen minutes to drive across town and out to the clubhouse. A young guy is standing by the gate and he opens it up to me when I stop in front.
I give him a little wave and drive through. I park next to Jenn’s car and she comes bounding out to meet me.
“I’m so glad you could come. I was dying of boredom in there,” she sighs. “Here.” Jenn hands me a bottle of beer
and gestures towards the picnic table.
“So, where is everyone?” It all looks so quiet, compared to the last time I was here, it’s almost eerie.
“Club business,” is Jenn’s only reply.
I nod and put the bottle to my lips. As I tip my head back to drain the rest of my beer, I catch sight of the clubhouse door opening. I hear a girl giggling, so I lower my drink and look over towards the noise. Then, he walks through the door with her. Her being Christa. She wraps her hands around his neck and kisses him deep. Then he smacks her ass and she walks off, exaggerating the sway in her hips.
“That’s him,” I hiss at Jenn.
“Who? What?” She blinks, stunned by my sudden outburst.
“Him. The guy I slept with. And that’s her – you know...from that night,” I try to explain.
“Ohhh,” Jenn looks across the lot to where Christa is getting in her vehicle. Then she looks back to where he is standing. “Ohhh,” she repeats. Her eyes are wide and she turns to look at me. From the corner of my eye, I spot him as he sees us, and then he begins walking toward us.
“Shit. Fuck,” I say under my breath. “What’s his name?” I attempt to ask, but I can’t talk loud enough for Jenn to hear because all of a sudden he’s standing in front of me.
“Jenn,” he rumbles. “Sugar,” he smiles at me. Smiles at me. Can you believe that shit?
“Hey Roam, how you doin’?” Jenn says. Roam. His name is Roam? Roam.
Christ, even his name is sexy and mysterious. Roam. “Doin’ alright, darlin’.” He looks to me again. “A word?” He asks.
Before I can tell him to go to hell, his cell rings. He looks at the screen and then at me. “Sorry, sugar. Gotta take this,” he says apologetically.
Pfft. Don’t be sorry. I don’t want to talk to him anyways. He puts the phone to his ear and barks, “Roam,” as he’s walking away. “You slept with Roam...Twice? Damn that man in fine!” “He’s fine, but he’s an ass,” I tell her.
“Roam is...” She pauses for a minute before continuing. “Lace, I’ve never known Roam to be in a relationship. Don’t get attached, okay?”
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