by Carmen Faye
This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons--living or dead--is entirely coincidental.
Rebel Chasers copyright @ 2014 by Carmen Faye. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embedded in critical articles or reviews.
CHAPTER ONE
Neil Jackson, patch holder of the Devil Knights MC, walked around his new ride with fascination in his cobalt gray eyes. It was beyond sweet. A trike, with a V8 427ci engine, front mounted. Extended 63mm front forks gave the bike a chopper hot-rod look. The Hughes-Performance Powerglide transmission gave it hot-rod takeoff and performance. The paint was a dark, almost black gray with orange-red flame work. Not too much—just enough to really catch the eye. And the sound through the special 4-to-1 collector pipes was pure idling thunder.
Put simply, she was a high-class, sexy beast.
“What do you think, Neil?” Bobby, the top designer, asked.
“I think it’s just what I asked for, and I love the back seat arrangement; exactly what I was looking for,” Neil replied.
“Think you’ll have two women back there often?” Bobby joked.
“My little sisters,” Neil told him. “They’re why I wanted this ride. Jill is sixteen and Sandy is fourteen. Dad just passed away and I’m trying to be more involved with them.”
“Wow, that’s really cool, Neil. Seriously. And this way all three of you can take a ride together,” Bobby said, looking the bike over again with admiration.
“Yeah, that’s the plan.” Neil smiled. “Now all I have to do is get the idea past Amanda, their mother.”
Bobby looked up at the 6’4” muscular man. “Half-sisters then?”
“Yeah. My mom passed away when I was young. Took dad a long time to try it again, but I always thought he did good hooking up with Amanda. So I’ve never thought of the girls as half-anything.”
“Well, we’ve never tried to make a rear seat like this, but it came out really nice. With the sides curled up like that, shouldn’t have a problem at all with them being safe back there. I know it is comfortable for one passenger as well, because I was back there several times for test rides,” Bobby explained. “But if the girls ever tell you different, bring it back and we’ll go at it again, no charge. Now that you’ve told me what it’s for, I want it to work for you. Alright?”
“Thanks; that’s really good of you,” Neil said as he shook Bobby’s hand. “So, everything set? You got the check, and everything is signed?”
“All yours,” Bobby agreed. “Been a real pleasure building this one for you.”
Neil got into the driver’s seat and gave the engine a little gas. “Damn that sounds good,” he said to himself. Then he put the bike into gear and pulled it out of the shop driveway and onto the road.
Having never ridden a trike before, it took a bit to get used to turning. He remained in the industrial park area for more than thirty minutes practicing turns, shifting the automatic transmission, and braking. On top of everything else, this was the most powerful beast he had ever sat on. Everything was high-performance, even the brakes. Reverse was an interesting feature as well.
Feeling like he had a handle on his new ride, he took it out to the main street, drove down to freeway, and opened her up.
The rush was amazing. The trike climbed up to 110mph without hesitation at a quicker pace than Neil expected. It was a good thing the Miami midday traffic was light. He brought her back down to a cruising 75mph, smiling and on the verge of laughing.
It cost a good third of his inheritance from his dad, but it was worth every cent and the girls were going to love it—if he could get Amanda’s seal of approval. He had until Saturday to get used to the bike enough so that its power was under control and he could give her a smooth, safe ride.
Reaching between his legs he pressed one of two side-by-side horizontal panels and it popped open. He tried the other with the same result. These were gun holders—one of the special features he asked to be installed. The hand brake lever was also a custom request that Dave suggested.
Dave was a club member who had ridden trikes all of his life. At fifty-four years old, he could put a trike into a bootlegger turn and do a reverse power-slide turn in his sleep. Neil was paying for six hours of his time tomorrow and Wednesday to get him on the right track.
CHAPTER TWO
Shayla Carson laid in bed looking at the clock on her nightstand. It was just past noon. Monday was more or less a day off, but coke-heads never really took a day off and so coke dealers didn’t either.
“Shay? You awake?” asked Sydney, who was snuggled up beside her.
“Yeah,” Shayla said softly.
Sydney’s hand came over her side and caressed her right breast. “Do you want to?” Sydney asked.
They were both twenty-four, blond, and blue-eyed college girls—well, they were college girls before they started dealing cocaine for the Devil Knights a little less than two years ago. They met in high school and went to the same college, both going for MBA’s, and both really cool when it came to sex and guys.
Guys were guys, and there were always more guys. Guys were certainly nothing to fight over, so if Sydney said, “I want him,” Shayla would back off. A cock was a cock. It wasn’t like she was missing anything. And it certainly wasn’t like she wanted anything special with him, and neither did Sydney.
They weren’t lesbians either, but one night you get the right amount of weed, and the right amount of coke, and just the right amount of Ecstasy going so you can dance all night—but then the guys don’t show up because of some club business. So things happen. Once they happen, and it was really good that first time, they happen again, and then again.
Now, shit had changed. Guys weren’t just guys and they’ve been fucking each other for a month now, not even looking at any cock, because of one fucking man. Fucking Neil Jackson, their new delivery man from the Devil Knights.
Shayla turned over and faced Sydney. She brushed a lock of hair away from Sydney’s face and gave her a brief kiss. Their bodies were naked and warm under the covers together. “Syd, we got to figure this shit out,” Shayla told her. “We’re like a few millimeters away from being real dykes.”
“I’m not a dyke, I’m just horny. And the reason I’m horny is because I’m not fucking who I want to fuck,” Sydney said with exasperation.
“I know. I’m not fucking him either,” Shayla sighed. “And what the fuck? How is this happening to us? It’s like we’ve gone fucking brain dead.”
Sydney looked into Shayla’s eyes. “Do you think he’s gay? I mean, I’ve done everything except strip and swallow the man’s cock. He doesn’t flirt. He’s always polite, patient, but no flirting. A man that fucking attractive… gay?”
“No, he’s not fucking gay,” Shayla assured her.
“He doesn’t flirt with you either,” Sydney points out.
“No, he hasn’t,” Shayla admitted. “But that’s the wrong question. It’s been like a month now, and neither of us wants anyone else, and we’re not fucking anyone else—why? He’s not the hottest fucking man in Miami. There are plenty of men who are hotter. We have both fucked better looking men. Why him?”
Sydney rolls onto her back and looks at the ceiling. “I don’t want to just fuck him, Shay.”
Shayla studies her. “We’re really fucked then, because neither do I. I look at him and I get ten-year goals in my head.”
“I want to have babies with him,” Sydney told her.
“What? Are you serious?”
Shayla threw back the covers and got out of bed.
“Shay! What?”
“I can’t stand this anymore!” Shayla exclaimed as she paced the floor. “I’m fucking going out tonight. I’m going to find some hunk of a man and fuck the shit out of him! Neil is just another fucking guy!”
The doorbell rings and Shayla growls, snatches up her blue satin robe, and shrugs it on as she leaves the room heading for the front door. Once she has the robe tight around her she opens the door, and there is Neil, looking just as yummy as ever.
“Um, hey Neil. Wasn’t expecting you until Wednesday,” she said sweetly.
“This isn’t business. Did I wake you up?” Neil asked with that low voice of his that rumbled her thighs and made her nipples hard.
“No, we’re just getting up. Come on in. Want a beer or something?” She asked as she stepped back, wishing she hadn’t closed her robe as tight as she did. Although this one barely covered her ass and displayed all her long legs; much better than the terry-cloth bathrobe. Still, showing a little tit right now would be better.
“Yeah, if you have one. I’m actually here to ask a favor.”
Sydney came in the room wearing lingerie panties and a bra, and walked toward the kitchen swaying her hips like a proper minx. “Oh, hey Neil.”
“Hey Syd. I’m glad you’re awake too, because I kind of need a favor from both of you.”
“What’s up?” Shayla asked, trying to discreetly loosen her robe.
“Well, I got a new ride. A custom deal that I had designed so I could take both of my sisters for rides and stuff.”
Sydney came back in to the room with a beer and handed it to him. “I didn’t know you had sisters.”
“Two. Jill is sixteen and Sandy is fourteen. See, my dad passed away about a month ago, and he was really involved in their lives. Like with soccer and softball and all kinds of other stuff. He took early retirement from the docks so he could be around more. Well, now he’s gone and I kind of want to be more involved for them. Sort of help them deal with his passing,” Neil explained.
“Hey, that’s really sweet,” Sydney said, smiling.
“Yeah, so anyway,” Neil pressed on, “I had the trike made and the back seat is made for two riders. I’m going to see them Saturday—”
“And you want to test it out before you put the girls on the back,” Shayla suggested.
“Yes, exactly. So, like, you two are the only girls I know who live together and might like a ride for an hour or so. If you have the time,” he added.
Shayla glanced at Sydney, then to Neil. “Fuck yeah. Now? We’ll get dressed.”
Back in Shayla’s room with the door closed, Sydney said, “Fuck! No wonder he hasn’t been flirting. His dad just died.”
“That’s probably right on the money. I mean a guy that worries about his little sisters like that has to feel something hard after losing his dad,” Shayla agreed, as she slipped into blue jeans. “And, um… Lingerie? Really?”
Sydney gave her a wicked smile. “Hey, you’re the one already giving up. So back off. He’s mine.”
“Fuck that,” Shayla replied curtly.
Dressed and with their helmets in hand, they came back into the living room to find Neil waiting patiently. “Thanks for doing this. I know you two have a busy schedule.”
“Not that busy on Monday. And hell, even if it was Friday we’d take the time for a ride,” Shayla assured him.
Down in the parking lot, Shayla looked over the trike with a feeling of awe. From the look on Sydney’s face, she’s experiencing the same feeling. The thing has a goddamn car engine. “How fast does it go? Shayla asked as she ran her hand down the painted gas tank.
“The guys that built it say it will get up to 230mph. I know it gets to 110mph really fucking quick if you don’t watch it,” Neil told her. “So, still up for it?”
“Oh hell yes,” Shayla replied, and climbs up into the right side.
Sydney ran around and climbed in on the left. “This is so fucking cool!”
Neil looked them over and Shayla felt like she wanted to be naked. “So,” Neil asked, “how does it feel? Secure?”
“Yes, and comfortable. But of course, we’re not moving yet,” Shayla pointed out with a grin.
Neil gave her one of his rare smiles. “Right. So, let’s cruise the beach.”
“Perfect!” Sydney squealed.
The sound of the engine is like a dragon. Shayla was in heaven on the back of the bike and the look on Sydney’s face told her she’s close to feeling orgasmic too. The sides came up past their hips so there was plenty of support for the turns, and there were good hand holds as well. It was obvious that Neil was still getting used to the power of the thing. Occasionally he would give it too much gas and it would respond almost instantly. There was zero hesitation between request and response.
Cruising down the beach, they got plenty of looks and a lot of horn honks.
“We should have worn bikini tops,” Sydney told her with a grin.
Shayla smiled and nodded, but mostly she watched Neil through the rearview mirror. What was it about this man?
She wasn’t boasting when she told Sydney earlier that they had both brought home better looking men. Neil was dark-haired and gray-eyed. His features were sharp. Actually, chiseled was the word she was looking for—as if stone became flesh. His shoulders were wide and thick, and his chest was ruggedly broad and well-defined. Long legs, narrow waist, and abs that every girl dreams of but few actually see. His ass was delicious. Everything about him said “hard hitting badass.” Everything except Neil himself.
She had no doubt that what Neil grabbed hold of usually moved, and what Neil hit suffered for it—once it was conscious again. Those eyes of his could turn from cobalt to iron in an instant, and his voice was deep and commanding. But inside, the way he talked to her and to Sydney, there was warmth and a protective aura that shrouded them.
He never chatted himself up either, like every other man she had ever met. He never talked about fights he had been in, and she had no idea where he got that scar under his left eye which dimpled when he smiled. He didn’t boast about the bikes he had owned or about his standing in the club. What he said was usually interesting, but mostly he listened, and the way he listened made her feel like she was important. Not important because she had a heart-shaped ass and nice tear-drop breasts, but because he believed that she—Shayla—was important enough to really listen to.
Sometimes, though, she got the feeling that he was disappointed. Not often, but often enough to crush her. Usually, she realized as she watched him in the mirror, that feeling of disappointment was when they were flirting heavily with him. Like maybe he felt he only had a couple of short hours with them every week during his deliveries, and he wanted to be with them—not the party girls, but with Sydney and Shayla. Like they really mattered or something.
“His little sisters must adore him,” she said softly to herself. “They probably measure every boy they meet against his standard, and find most of them wanting.”
After experiencing Neil—and that’s what it was to be with him: an experience—how could she just go out and find a hunk to fuck? Where was she going to find someone who equaled his allure? Not in any of the nightclubs, bars, or parties she and Sydney did business in, and certainly not in any of their customers.
That morning, she didn’t get frustrated with Sydney because she said she wanted to have babies with Neil. She got frustrated because she was about to say the same thing, only she chickened out and talked about ten-year plans instead.
They pulled up to a red light and Sydney leaned over to her. “What’s the matter?”
Shayla looked at her dearest friend and said, “I just wish I was real enough for him.”
Sydney went from causal concern to deep wonder. “Holy shit,” she said as epiphany fill
ed her eyes. “That’s it. That’s it exactly.”
Back in their parking lot, they both got out of the back and Shayla came around to the left side. As one they hugged Neil around the waist and then lifted up on their toes to kiss his cheek. “That was fun, Neil,” Shayla told him.
“Yeah, I liked that a lot. Thank you,” Sydney agreed.
Neither of them wanted to let him go now that they were this close, so Shayla asked, “So, what do you have going on this week?”
Neil looked into her eyes, melting her, and said, “Well I got a gig at Beats and Drums Wednesday night.”
“We know that place,” Sydney said.
“I thought you played guitar? They are all techno and house, aren’t they?” Shayla asked.