by Ryder Dane
He took her off the kickstand and started the engine before jerking his head for her to hop on. She hesitated for a few heartbeats, took a few deep breaths, and lifted her leg over the seat behind his hips. The last ride she’d taken was with her brother, and it was also the day she lost her only sibling. A year ago, he’d dropped her off at the bar and left for a meeting at the Breed’s clubhouse. He never made it home. She didn’t know he was dead until she saw the police cruiser in front of the bar the next morning, and Deputy Wilson held his hat in his hands as he informed her that Harry was found in Glory Ravine, dead of an apparent single vehicle accident. There hadn’t been much for her to bury.
The theory was that he’d lost control of the bike and ran off the road, flipping the bike end over end and bursting into flames, burning Harry’s body beyond recognition. She kept looking at the pictures of the accident and later, she’d finally discovered what bothered her so much about the accident. The bike was burned, but there was not a ding or a dent anywhere on the machine. She prayed Harry was faking his death for most of the last year, but came to the realization that someone had killed her brother and set it up to appear to be an accident.
Her ass was numb from sitting on the four by six inch pad of leather before they came to a two track leading into the woods. She held on for dear life and he drove around the potholes and tree roots in the unkept path. He stopped the scoot in front of an oversized log cabin, with a wooden porch complete with a swing, and a raccoon was chewing on something as he sat on the railing.
It was too dark to see much, but the small clearing let the light from the moon and stars illuminate the steps. She tried to pull her leg from the bike, but got a cramp in her buttcheek and grabbed it, attempting to rub out the painful muscle. “Fuck, damn it, fuck, that hurts.” She pulled her leg and ended up on her ass in the tall grass for her efforts, with the cramp still keeping her leg taut.
John shook his head at the sight of her half reclining on the grass. Damn, I should have thought about that. That pad was mostly for show anyway. It was a fucking wonder that she hadn’t been bitching all the way here.
He set the kickstand on one of the flat rocks in the ground and moved to help her.
“Hey, hang on a minute, let me help you, first let’s get the brain bucket off your head, it’s wobbling around until only half of your face is showing.” He removed the helmet and set it on the seat of the bike. She was making such an awful grimace he felt doubly bad for her, and reached for her thigh. He rolled her onto her stomach and began kneading her back just above the cheek of her ass, and down her thigh until he felt the muscles relax. “There you go, I thought you rode before, sorry about that.”
Stevie rolled onto her back and took the hand he was extending to her to assist her up. “I used to ride with Harry all the time, I even have a license to ride, but I haven’t gotten a bike yet. And for your information, big boy, my brother was considerate enough to have a decent seat on his scoot. Unlike some men I could name that are dumb enough to believe a woman wants to be numb from the waist down after fifteen miles of riding on a thin slice of leather over a metal fender. I should have taken my chances in my Jeep. I’ll be lucky if I don’t walk bowlegged.”
He wasn’t about to defend his choice of transportation. This was his personal bike, he knew this baby from the ground up. He should since he built it himself. It had a 1200 Harley motor and he’d given it a little love, making it into a 1500, the tranny came with the motor, but the rest of the bike was strictly John Handy. He had two other bikes at the shop, one was a bagger with the kind of seat she was talking about, and the other was for playing in the mud and rougher terrain.
“Come on, you want to ignore Igor there, he’s a bum. I made the mistake of feeding him when his mother was killed up at the highway. I brought him here to turn loose but he was too small to take care of himself so I took him to the shop for Lonnie and Chewy to take care of. Chewy took him home and let his ol’ lady and kids take care of it. He’d probably still be at their house raising hell but he bit Chewy and one of the kids. So here he is, back in the wild, he shows up for handouts when he knows I’m around.”
He turned around after unlocking and opening the door to invite her in, but she was petting the little shit. Igor was chattering at her and trying to get her to pick him up. She was giggling, and he liked hearing that sound coming from her. “Come on, you can listen to his story of sadness tomorrow, trust me, he’s always complaining about something.”
He flipped the lights on in the main room of the cabin and she was happy to see that the place was furnished nicely. In her opinion it needed a few splashes of color, but the room was open and she loved the wood paneling. She walked to a painting done in oil featuring a river and trees. It was beautiful. Along beside it were pictures of the same area that the painting depicted.
The furniture was large, leather, and looked comfortable enough to sleep on. She turned to see John taking a beer from the stainless fridge. All in all the open concept of the place was country living, with modern conveniences. She loved it.
Chapter Four
He didn’t ask what she thought of the place, it was his, and he liked it. It would be good if she liked the place, but not necessary for the purpose as far as he could see. From the way she was touching everything and nodding as she made her way around the living room, he felt satisfaction settle in. Her approval was not necessary, no, but knowing that she enjoyed some of his personal touches made him smile.
“The bathroom and bedroom are in back through there,” he gestured to the opening in the back wall of the room. “You can find towels and stuff in there.”
She had to say something, “I love this place, it fits the setting, and I can see me curling up on that couch to read a good book in front of the fireplace when it’s cold outside. I would buy a place like this in a heartbeat if I could afford it. You were lucky to find it. The only drawback I can see would be, not wanting to leave the place to go to work every afternoon.”
She walked through the short hallway and opened a door. Thankfully it was the bathroom. Again she was surprised and admitted to jealousy. Lucky man, to own the claw footed oversized tub. The corner featured a glass enclosed shower, but the main attraction was that tub. She promised herself that if she ever could afford a place of her own, she would have one of them so she could “wallow around like a pig in mud” as her brother used to say. She sighed, and began to strip out of her smoke scented clothes. A shower was the quickest way to get clean, and she stepped inside the glass door.
The heat of the water relaxed her and allowed her to let go of most of the day’s tension. She rinsed the soap off and reached for a towel, uh oh, problem. She stepped out onto the pile of her dirty clothes, and scooted her feet over to the cupboard to snag a large bath towel. She toweled her hair first to get the excess water down to a minimum, her hair was really in need of a cut, but she hadn’t taken the time to make an appointment. It was nights like this that she regretted her habit of putting it off. It would take her a while to comb the butt length wheat colored mess. She would just throw a braid in it after detangling it and call it good for the night.
Drying the rest of her body, and looking for the shorts and tank she’d brought to sleep in, reminded her that the clothes were in her bag in the other room. Damn. She wrapped the towel around her and tucked the end under her arm. She tried to call for John, but he either hadn’t heard her, or he was gone from the house. She walked out of the bathroom with her wet clothes hanging from her fingers. John was nowhere to be seen, but she heard the sound of his voice from out on the porch. She stopped to listen, but his was the only voice she heard. He must be on the phone. That was good. She hurried over to the big couch and bent over to pick up her bag.
The click of the door lock startled her as she was sorting her sleepwear from tomorrow’s clothes, and she jerked upright with both hands filled with clothing. Her blue underwire bra dangled from her hand. She could feel the towel loosen, and
she squeaked, dropping the clothes in her grasp too late. The towel dropped at her feet, leaving her stark naked with her hands raised midway in the air. She saw John standing three feet away and he was staring at her face, not the obvious places she’d have thought he’d be staring. Once he caught her eye, his gaze lowered and she crouched down quickly to gather the towel around her again.
“I’m sorry, I left my bag out here, I forgot to take it into the bathroom with me.” She tried to stuff her clothing back into the bag, and felt him standing next to where she was on her knees. She turned her head and found herself eye to zipper, and her earlier recollection of his thick cock behind denim was proving true to life. She tilted her head further back to see his face, and licked her lips at the sight of pure male hunger on his face.
This hadn’t been a scene she’d pictured of the two of them before, but fuck it, she wanted to see this man raw and feel him tremble under her lips. She wondered if his sperm would taste salty or slightly sour. She slowly smiled and reached for the buckle of his belt.
She felt like she was opening a present on Valentine’s Day for some odd reason. He wore boxer briefs and even the grey cotton showed his prick off as it stood tall, peeking over the elastic waistband. She leaned in closer and licked the small drop of pre-cum from the dark pink flesh, and heard him draw in his breath. Oh yeah, this was going to excite them both.
She peeled back the material slowly, as inch after inch was revealed, she placed kisses down his length until she got to the spot where his shaft sprung from his furry wrinkled ball sack. Working her way north, this time using her lips and tongue in a sliding suction until she encountered the rough knot of skin just under the flared head of his prick. She pulled that skin into her mouth, sucking strongly and mashing it with her tongue to the spot behind her front teeth and the roof of her mouth. Her hands dug into his ass cheeks and she smiled, feeling the tremble in his thighs. She wiggled her tongue on the skin, turned it loose from captivity and slid her mouth over the head of his prick.
The feel of his hands fisting handfuls of her hair made her moan and him push his cock deeper into her throat. He was too big for her to try to deep throat him, so she brought her hand up and circled the thickness in a tight hold. She used her empty hand to fondle his sac. Long ago she’d learned that pinching the wrinkled skin on a man’s balls enhanced their pleasure and she moaned and gave into the urge to give him the best blowjob he’d ever experienced.
She kept movement going on his cock, and there was no denying that his reactions were turning her on. She felt the wetness gathering and sliding between the lips of her pussy. She pushed herself up onto her knees and brought her thighs together to take some of the need away, but that was completely ineffective. She moaned her frustration and felt his thickness begin to throb and pulse. His hips kept time with the spurts of his cum, releasing into the back of her throat. The movement of her throat as she swallowed ramped his pleasure and the last stab of his prick held her throat open and tested her gag reflex, until she concentrated on relaxing the muscles of her throat and neck. She gave the shaft in her hand another few strokes and tasted the small amount of cum that came onto her tongue as his deflating cock retreated.
She sat back on her heels, hands cupping her breasts pinching her nipples, enhancing her own coming orgasm. Her head was tossed back and she began panting, moving her hips. One of her hands slid down her body intending to take her clit to the ultimate conclusion, but his hand got there first.
He shoved two fingers inside of her tunnel while his thumb pressed and worked her clit back and forth, until she cried out and began jerking like a puppet. She felt the thick fingers stretching her and gasped as the second orgasm hit her, causing his hand to become drenched with her juices. His hand pulled her hair, dragging her head up for his open mouthed kiss. Their tongues slid along each other, like lovers sliding their naked bodies in a sensual massage. His fingers untangled from her hair and rubbed her head lightly. He pulled his lips back and touched his forehead to hers.
“That was one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen or done. Thank you.” They sat like that for another minute, and he stood, pulling her to her feet with him. “Come on, let’s get comfortable under the quilts.”
She made a quick stop in the bathroom to clean up a bit and rinse her mouth. She felt great, but her body was weary. It had been a long day and night. Why she felt shy about walking around nude in the short distance between the bathroom and bedroom made her shake her head. He’d already seen it all, and he hadn’t told her to cover up yet, so it was on him if he had a complaint. She entered the bedroom, but he was nowhere to be seen. She chose the side of the bed that was furthest from the door because she was pretty sure that he’d insist on being the first defense if someone were to break in on them.
Harry had been that way as she was growing up. Once their parents went to prison for trafficking and RICO violations, Harry had slipped into the bedroom of the foster home the county had stuck her in, and took her away from the place.
They’d stayed in a few rough places, and Harry always insisted on being closest to the door. Once he got a good job tending bar, things got better. He’d bought the bar with little more than his enthusiasm and talent for chatting up the ladies. Being a full patched member of the Breed hadn’t hurt either. They trusted him enough to hold the note on the place, and he’d worked like a dog to build the business and pay the bills. He insisted that she get her GED and at least go to the Community College nearby. He gave her the Jeep for her college graduation, and threw her a party at the bar.
Thinking of Harry, and what she believed happened to him, depressed her, but he would tell her to knock it off. Living was for just that, living. Dead was dead. She fell asleep thinking that Harry would probably like John Handy.
John moved the bike into the shed after pushing Igor off the gauges. His phone chirped again and he shook his head at Leech and the boys. They were the best fuckers in the world for having at your back, but they were also effective cockblockers tonight.
Leech was ripped, and from the background voices, it sounded like he wasn’t alone. “Hey, bro, we got a little prezzie for you to play with. It took our little Charming Charm to snag him, but that fucker snapped at her bait and we got him in the net. You, yep, you can see him in the morning, we got him on ice, and tonight, we plan to go fishing somemore, just like shootin’ dumbfuck chickens in the coop. We’re gonna get you a collection, that way, you can pick one each day to send back to his fuckin’ hole in the stinkin’ swamp until we snag the right one. You betcha, we’ll get the fucker and have a damned good time doing it. See ya in daylight.”
John pulled the phone from his ear and stared at it. Did they snatch a Swamp Rat and had him in the blocks? He sat on the porch and hung his arms over his spread knees and grinned. Yeah, that was what Leech said. How many blood brothers would go to so much trouble for a man in his situation? Not many, that was for fuckin’ certain. Knowing they were actively helping him find the cocksucker who hurt Stevie made him feel good. After the way he’d fucked with Leech and the man sounded like the ringleader of the bunch…he had no words.
He stood and entered the cabin. It felt different with her here, less impersonal. He never noticed the difference before. He locked up and took a quick shower, before climbing in next to the woman who was coming to mean too much, too fast to him.
He’d been attracted to her for too long to convince himself that all he would want from her would be a quick fuck. If the feeling in his chest didn’t begin to calm down soon, he would worry that it would never go away. If she didn’t have the same feeling, well, he’d be fucked, that’s where he’d be.
Chapter Five
Swamp Kings
The Swamp Shack sat back off the road almost a mile and if a person didn’t know what he was looking for, they’d never find the place. That’s how the Swamp Kings liked it. It was their group’s only clubhouse, and even though they were a single chapter club, they had fifty memb
ers that regularly showed up to important meetings and events. They considered themselves 1% ers, and most of the brothers had few ethics to worry about. The only morals they encouraged were the club by-laws, and somehow they made it work.
Turner Dean aka Pappy D was the prez, and his son, Donnie, who was pacing the floor in the small room toward the backside of the building, were talking.
“How the hell was I ‘spossed to know the whore had arrangements with those fuckin’ Breeds? I ain’t never seen a Patch in the place the times I was there. All that goes in there are the young fucks from town looking for some pussy or a dick to swing on. So now the Breed is all up in arms over a little misunderstanding? What the fuck.”
Pappy spit his tobacco juice into an old coffee can and nodded his head. “I can see where you’d make such a mistake, problem is, ya dipt yer dick in her, boy. I jest had a little talk to with that sumbitch Baron up there, and he says the line’s been drawn. She’s a member of the Breed, an her ol’ man ain’t takin’ the violation light like. He wants us to turn the one who fucked her over to him, or he says he’s gonna keep fucking the boys up ‘til he finds the guilty one.
“Didja see Toad, Vic, and Jumper? If her ol’ man’s the one who fucked them up, he’s gonna put a hurtin’ on you.” The older man nodded and spit again. “That’s a fact, boy, ain’t no ways around it. Yer tough, and I’m proud to call you my get, but if the three of them couldn’t take him, you ain’t got a lot of chance. Jumper says he’s a big mutha, dark-haired, and tats, full on badass with death in his eyes. Say he’s cold on ready to get revenge. Boy, you cain’t reason with a man in that mind.”
Donnie shook his head, and drained his can of soda. “Wasn’t me that did that one, that was Candle, he likes to have ‘em scared when he dips his wick. He was sayin’ she was nice an’ tight, an’ he was planning to make a habit of visitin’ her.”