Leather & Lace

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Leather & Lace Page 2

by J. A. Fredericks


  “Okay, fine,” I mutter, grinding my teeth. “Just for the night. I’ll collect my things in the morning and arrange for them to be shipped to my friend’s in LA, then I’ll be on my way.”

  I’m sure Jimmy won’t mind storing my things until I find a place to stay. As much as I hate Los Angeles, it’d be easier to start over far away from the MC now that I know where Remmy stands.

  Colt’s eyebrows raise. “No helmet?”

  “My things are in storage,” I snap. Normally I don’t ride without leather either, but I was just lucky Jimmy arranged to have my bike brought to the prison so I wasn’t forced to take the bus.

  “Hold on.” Moving over to the row of Harleys, he stops at the third one in to remove a half-helmet from the handlebars. Strutting back to me, a brilliant smile crosses his lips when he hands it over. “Will be a bit big, but should still do the job. Would hate to see that pretty little head splattered all over the road.”

  With a roll of my eyes, I slip it on. “How thoughtful.”

  Hands shoved deep inside his jean pockets, Colt steps backwards with a devilish grin that makes him look more like a little kid. “Just try to keep up, darlin’.” He skips over to his bike and mounts it, bringing the black Harley to life the same time as I do mine, creating a great twinned roar. A thrill strikes my core with the mighty sound, reminding me of all the runs I’ve gone on in my lifetime.

  Colt races past, wind lashing his brown locks around him, and throws me a wink. I pull out and speed up, eager to prove I’m no lightweight. We’re on the freeway within minutes, winding through the golden hills of the barren valley. Traffic is light this time of day and Colt takes advantage of the open road by going full throttle. I do my best to keep the distance between us even without going over the limit. Watching the beautiful man ride with the feeling of real freedom surrounding me, I’m surprised I don’t become distracted from my Colt view and crash.

  We ride for several miles until Colt darts off onto an exit so suddenly I nearly don’t make it behind him. We ride dozens of blocks through the middle class part of town where people take pride in their homes. Neatly trimmed lawns and picket fences surround modest, one-story homes that remind me of the place I last lived with my father. Colt turns off the main road and, two blocks later, pulls in beside a rickety minivan outside a well kept, two-story building.

  I park next to him and hand over his helmet. Our fingers touch in the hand-off, setting off sparks against my skin. His eyes land on mine, warm and welcoming. “You kept up better than I expected. Been ridin’ long?”

  I use the excuse of dismounting my bike to look away. “Since I was a little girl.”

  He tips his head at my bike. “Nice ride. If you sold it, you’d probably be able to afford a decent enough place.”

  “Not a chance in hell,” I say with a dark laugh, knowing he’s likely testing me anyway. “Besides, I’m not homeless because of money. I just need to figure out where I’m going to settle down.” And fast before my PO decides I’m in violation of my release conditions. With a crime low on the level of offenses, a defense attorney with friends in the right places, and a history of being the perfect inmate, I was given a loose set of guidelines and more freedom than most newly released inmates.

  Colt starts for the building and I trail behind, grateful he isn’t drilling me on why I need a place to stay and why I don’t have my things. With any luck, maybe he’ll think I’m escaping a bad relationship. We enter a small hallway with two doors and a narrow stairway. Colt lifts the chain from his jeans to unlock the door furthest down and hold it open for me.

  His apartment is incredibly tidy and smells faintly of bleach. Simple furniture surrounds a TV mounted to the far wall and a small oak table sits at the end of a tiny kitchen filled with mismatched appliances. The walls are white and free of any decorations. It feels oddly empty and kind of sad.

  “Don’t spend much time here,” he says, as if reading my mind. “Whenever I’m not doin’ odd construction jobs, I’m at the club.”

  As he strolls over to the refrigerator, I take a minute to truly appreciate his firm ass and it occurs to me I’m going to be stuck in a small apartment with this vision of perfection, alone. Suddenly I can’t make enough saliva to swallow.

  “Water?” he asks, turning with a bottle in hand.

  Still unable to speak, I nod. He launches it across the room and I catch it with both hands.

  Returning to my side, his head tilts back as he gulps down his own water. My insides quiver as I watch his Adam’s apple bob up and down. My flustered fingers fumble with the cover on my bottle before I’m able to take a drink.

  The loud crunch of his water bottle fills the air before he tosses it into a half-full garbage bin nearby. “Gotta run…club business. Make yourself at home. Your room’s the first one down the hallway on the left. Bathroom’s right next door. I’ll call Ranger, have him bring his truck by in the mornin’ so you can grab your things.”

  I nod in reply, shoving my hands in my back pockets. Before opening the door, his beautiful eyes land on me as his lips curl with a sexy grin. “Not gonna lie, it’s kinda nice to have someone else around for a change.”

  Once the door closes behind him, I let out a deep breath I didn’t know I had been holding.

  I can do this without jumping his bones. It’s only one night.

  After wandering through the apartment, finding the rest of it to also be plain and simple, I end up in front of the TV, flipping through shows that don’t spark my interest. Part of me hopes Colt will return and demand to have his way with me, but it’s wishful thinking brought on by too many of the prison’s crappy romance novels.

  By ten o’clock, I’m passed out in the guest bed.

  Sometime later I jerk awake to the rich aroma of coffee and the sound of a woman giggling. It shocks me a bit at first to see the unfamiliar surroundings of Colt’s spare room in the full sunlight until I remember I’m free. Although its springs were squeaky in the night, the feel of the double mattress and thick sheets were one of the small luxuries I’ve desperately missed.

  I stretch my limbs out as far as they will go and smile. It sucked that I wasn’t able to make amends with Remmy and I really don’t know where that leaves me. But I have to admit, getting to spend the night in the apartment of one of the hottest men I’ve ever seen in my life was a decent enough consolation prize.

  The woman’s giggles float through the air once again and I grumble. Guess Colt and I won’t be hooking up anytime soon. Slipping off the bed, I enter the hallway wearing only the lacy underwear and tight Harley t-shirt Jimmy sent along with my bike, no bra. If Colt’s woman doesn’t like seeing a half-dressed woman prancing around his place, I’d welcome the chance to show off some of the moves I learned from my kickboxing cell mate.

  I startle at the sight of a shirtless Colt and a small blonde engaged in a steamy kiss that stirs a mixture of lust and loathing in me. Part of me wants to kick the blonde bimbo-looking Barbie out on her ass so I can be packed against that rock hard chest. One hand presses to Colt’s chest while the other disappears inside his thick hair. He leans back against the kitchen counter, legs spread to make room for her petite body. She’s hardly dressed either, wearing a thong that shows off every last bit of her darkly tanned, perky ass and a short tank top with one strap loose against her arm, no bra. Hair so bleached it’s nearly white falls down her back in loose waves, stopping mid-waist. Yep, it’s Bimbo Barbie.

  My breath hitches when I take in Colt’s sun-kissed skin. Though the blonde covers the majority of his chest, I’m still able to appreciate his bare arms in all their inked glory as they clutch the woman’s back, tangled up in her long hair. I want to scold the chick for kissing the wrong part of him. Arms that heavenly are meant for licking. Then again, my legs clench with jealousy as I watch their mouths work together in a kiss so deep it’s like he’s trying to suck out her soul.

  Their moans fill the small apartment. Just as I decide I should retr
eat to my room, Colt pushes the blonde back. “You said you had somethin’ you wanted to give me, darlin.’ Best be gettin’ to it. I have places to be.”

  Hiding behind the corner of the hallway, I dig my fingernails into the palms of my hands, hating that he called her darlin’ even though the nickname irritated me at first. Coming from his beautiful voice, I’d actually grown somewhat fond of it. Until now.

  Why the hell do I care? I don't know this man. Though part of me wants to know every part of him and his oh-so-hot body.

  Giggling, the woman sinks down, kissing every part of Colt’s body on the way to her knees. I swear my heart stops beating when I see his smooth chest in all its majesty, fully exposed.

  He’s every bit as massive as I had pictured. Broad muscles make him so wide that it wouldn’t seem I’d be able to wrap my arms all the way around him and would be better off trying to climb him like a tree. The intricate design of a US flag beneath ‘torn’ skin stretches from the top of his pecs to his shoulder, mingling with the colorful, patriotic sleeve I’ve been dying to run my tongue across since I first laid eyes on him.

  Then the blonde’s fingers make light of Colt’s boxer briefs, rendering him completely naked.

  Gloriously naked.

  Thick thighs surround a rosy-colored oh-so-large cock that could be considered a masterpiece in itself—maybe even its own statue. It’s long and impossibly thick like the rest of him. With the site of pre-cum glistening on the tip of his darkened mushroom-shaped head, I subconsciously lick my lips, wondering if it’d even be possible to take all of him or if I’d just have to ride the tip.

  Never in my life have I seen a sight as stunning as Colt in the buff.

  “Fuck me,” I breathe softly.

  The blonde’s head cuts off my view as she wraps her lips around him, taking it all in like a pro. Hand twisting through her hair, Colt’s entire body stiffens and he groans. “Fuck yeah. Suck it hard, darlin.’”

  She goes to work, her head bobbing as she furiously sucks on him. His head tilts back and he begins to thrust his hips, fucking her mouth with fury. “Christ!” he growls. “Stop usin’ your damn teeth!”

  My face burns hot when I realize how badly I want to be in that woman’s place, showing him how it’s done right and making him buck with pleasure. Unable to take the sexual tension any longer, my hand finds its way down between my legs and I slip a finger beneath my underwear, rubbing myself in sync with Colt’s thrusts.

  Focused on his beautiful face, I imagine he’s the one touching me and I’m the one making him come. Vivid imagery was my saving grace in prison and it’s ten times easier to achieve an orgasm when feasting my eyes on a live, gorgeous, panty-melting man standing across the room.

  All at once his stunning face lights with pleasure and he moans loudly, becoming still except for his hands moving through the blonde’s hair. Able to finish myself off with the sound of his deep voice, I close my eyes and bite my lip. Now that I know Colt has a girlfriend, I’m going to have to find someone else to scratch my growing need to be satiated.

  When I open my eyes again, Colt’s sky blue eyes are fixed on my crotch where my hand still rests. Every so slowly, they travel up my body until our gazes meet. The sexiest grin curls across his lips and I'm flushing a bright shade of red from being caught with my hand in my pants, still wishing it would have been his perfect cock driving me to Pleasure Town.

  3

  Heart hammering, I frantically scurry back to the spare room, wincing when I shut the door too hard. I didn’t stick around long enough to find out if the blonde caught me too, but by now she’ll know something is up. I haven’t even been out twenty-four hours and already people are going to think I’m some kind of peeping perv. It only proves that people in general aren’t my thing anymore. Prison has taken a giant crap on my social skills.

  Spread out across the bed, I listen to her raised voice spar with Colt’s deeper one. Their mumbled words suddenly stop, then the front door slams loudly. A minute later, there’s a loud knock on my door. “Harley?”

  “Go away,” I call out, covering my burning face with a pillow. I don’t need a biker telling me to mind my own business. Then again, maybe he’s here to toss me out. I wouldn’t blame him.

  “My place, I’m comin’ in,” he announces in a gruff tone before the door creaks open. “Mornin’, darlin.’”

  Groaning, I remove the pillow. He’s smiling with his arms crossed and has thrown on jeans and a black t-shirt. Thank god. Seeing him naked right now would be a serious blow to my already wounded ego. “Morning.”

  “Thought I’d let you know Ranger will be here any minute. You might want to put on more…clothes.” His eyes lazily pass over my nipples peaked against my shirt and down to my bare thighs. When his beautiful eyes meet mine again, he’s smirking. “Unless you were lookin’ for someone to help you out this time.”

  Hell, that's a tempting offer considering I was willing to offer my lip service to his glorious cock minutes ago when Bimbo Barbie was nearly gnawing on it like a dog bone.

  Hoping he can’t read my reluctance, I roll my eyes. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been with anyone.” Sitting up, I hug my knees to my chest. “Guess I should apologize. Doesn’t sound like your girlfriend liked putting on a show.”

  The mattress buckles when Colt sits at my side, chuckling. “Bridget is not my girlfriend.”

  My eyebrows rise as I feign shock. “You mean you don’t date?”

  Wait. Why am I asking? Why the hell am I playing the damn dating version of Twenty Questions with him? It's not like I’m the type date or I’m going to stick around anyway. Once I get my shit, I plan to leave this town far behind.

  “Hell no. I’m not into that kinda thing. She’s just someone for an occasional hook up, like a friends with benefits type deal.” His eyes roll to the ceiling and he laughs again. Goddamn, I love the sound of that laugh. “I’d never take someone like her seriously. She’s fake as hell.”

  “It must’ve been her oral skills that won you over.”

  There’s a spark in his eyes when his beautiful lips spread wide with the kind of honest smile that makes him appear so much younger. “You sayin’ I should find someone with more experience?”

  When his eyes draw down to my lips, I let out a quiet gasp. Or was it a moan? I’ve wanted to kiss this man since I first laid eyes on him. From the way he’s leaning in closely, I brace myself, thinking he’s about to give me a taste of his succulent lips. Then we hear the front door close and he pulls away, eyebrows drawn down.

  “Colt?” a deep voice calls from the other room. “You still here?”

  Colt’s still smiling when he stands. “Better get dressed, darlin.’ Ranger finds you like this, we’ll have ourselves a real party.” He winks suggestively before leaving the room.

  Oh my god. If Ranger looks like Colt, I just may want to rock this party of three.

  I quickly slip into my jeans and bra then finger-comb my hair on the way out to the kitchen. The tall man with dark hair in a bun who had been sitting with Buzz at the clubhouse bar stands beside Colt. Apparently I had too much on my mind to properly appreciate the man’s good looks when we first met. Hell, he’s nearly as hot as Colt seeing them stand side-by-side.

  Ranger’s taller, though not as muscular, and has the kind of rounded baby-face that makes girl swoon. Arms and hands covered in ink and words tattooed at the base of his neck make him appear to be tough as hell, like the kind of guy you never want to mess with. From the soft look behind his big brown eyes, however, I imagine him to be a gentle giant on the inside.

  Remembering what Colt said about the three of us having a private party, my heart and my womanly regions flutter. Picturing the two of them naked and ready for me renders me speechless.

  “Harley, this is Ranger,” Colt says.

  Ranger nods like we’ve met before. “Jawa’s girl. Heard a lot about you.”

  “I’m sure Remmy gave me glowing reviews,” I say wit
h a tight laugh.

  Colt’s wide eyes flip back and forth between us. “Hold up. You’re Jawa’s girl?” He shakes his head while giving me another once over. “Jesus, you look nothin’ like the pictures I’ve seen at the club.”

  “Probably because I grew up,” I say in a sarcastic tone.

  “I’d say,” he answers with a brilliant grin that pops his dimples into place and makes me inwardly swoon.

  “Truck’s out front if you’re ready,” Ranger says, pushing his hands into his jeans pockets and giving me this look like he’s suddenly shy.

  Colt motions for me to lead the way. “Let’s do this.”

  The fifteen minute ride to the storage shed is total torture as the guys ramble about their shenanigans the night before and Ranger’s crazy ex who made an appearance. It’s an incredibly tight fit in the single-cab pickup truck and though I try to make myself as small as possible, their large bodies dig into my shoulders, igniting the part of me that’s still desperate to get laid.

  A ménage à trois is looking better by the second.

  I direct Ranger to my unit where the two guys pile out along with me. Dread fills my chest as Colt helps me open the garage door. I have no idea what we’re about to find in addition to my personal belongings. No one bothered to tell me what would be done with his furniture and the few valuables he owned. My father’s younger sister, a bitter old bag I’ve had very little to do with in my lifetime, was the only family left to sort through his things when he died. As a single woman without any children, she was livid when their parents willed everything to their only living grandchild at the time.

  As the large door creaks up over our heads and the interior of the shed comes into view, I let out a strangled cry.

 

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