by Korry Smith
A loud and sudden breaking of glass bottles shattered the intimate moment and brought Alex and me back to the present.
“Fuck,” he cursed, eyes hectically scanning the entrance of the bar. He groaned, pressing his forehead against mine. “See what you do?”
“Me?”
“We don’t have fucking time for this shit,” Alex ranted softly, keeping his agitated voice down to a whisper. “Look,” his fingers roamed upwards into my hair, grabbing fistfuls of it, and pulling me close, “as soon as we get it started, you jump on the back, you got me?”
“Yeah, I got you,” I replied, fighting the urge to lick my lips.
That simple action, innocent in nature, would only distract me further. I wanted him. I always wanted him. That would never change but wanting him and having him were two separate things.
Fuck, the taste of him still lingers.
Now was not the time to be thinking about Alex and his mouth, and where he could touch me and kiss me and lick me.
“Hey,” Alex snapped his fingers in my face, “try to stay focused.”
I swatted his hand away. “I’m focused.”
“Right,” he scoffed, kicking up the kickstand. “Help me push this towards the road.”
Placing my hands on the leather seat, I put all my body’s weight on the bike. “You like to torture me on purpose, don’t you?”
“Yes,” he said, making no apologies, and keeping his back to me. “But I’m a masochist and end up torturing myself far more than I’m torturing you.”
“I highly doubt that,” I said, my feet slipping on the gravel as the motorcycle rolled down the slanted hill. “Remind me again, how fucking dangerous is this?”
“Well, no alarm usually means...”
“No one is stupid enough to steal it.”
He glanced over his shoulder and smirked. “Well, except for us.”
Yeah, we’re the only two people in this world stupid enough to steal a Harley from a Hell’s Angel.
The right response should have been fear, but it turned me on instead. The danger was an addiction, and Alex was mine.
“This is good enough,” he said, digging the heel of his boots into the ground, bringing it to an abrupt stop.
We were just a few feet from the road, our activities slightly obscured by the hanging branches of an Oak tree, yet still within full view of anyone exiting the bar.
Time was of the essence, and we had to move fast.
“All right, kid, you’re up,” Alex said, getting on the bike, and balancing it between his legs.
I cracked my knuckles and sauntered around to the front, giving him a smug smile.
“Can we fucking hurry this along?” He growled and waved me onward, glancing over his shoulder to watch the bar.
“Okay, okay, keep your panties on,” I said, crouching down to get eye level with the busted headlight.
“Listen up, kid,” Alex spoke fast and urgently. “Take both wires and rub them together until you create a spark.”
Taking in all his instructions, I rubbed my damp palms on my jeans and zeroed in on the goal. It seemed simple enough, and as I went to take hold of the wires, Alex threw himself over the front of the motorcycle, reaching out to stop me.
“Don’t touch the bare wires with your fingers, baby. That shit hurts like a bitch.”
The distress behind his eyes was endearing, but there was no power streaming through them, and his concern was for naught. He was overprotective again.
I laughed, shaking my head. “I’m aware of how electricity works, Alex.”
He grunted and flipped me off, leaning back on the bike and disappearing. “Do me a favor, and fucking try to be careful.”
“Yes, sir,” I muttered, rolling my eyes.
Doing my best to keep Alex’s mind at ease, I grabbed the red and black wires at their base and gingerly touched them together. At first, there was nothing, but after the sixth time, there was a bright spark.
I yelped startled, and my fingers dropped the wires as I fell back on my ass.
Alex chuckled. “That’s what you get for talking shit.”
“Shut up!” I snapped, picking myself back up and taking hold of those pesky wires with a vengeance.
It took me a second or two of tapping and forcing the wires together to trigger a connection and getting this Harley to roar to life. The rolling sound of the engine was loud and thunderous. It echoed off the trees. My pulse quickened, and my heart pounded, excitement circulating through my blood, causing me to gasp out loud.
I smiled up at Alex.
His eyes were wide and unblinking. “We need to move.”
Tick tock, tick tock. Time’s up.
I scrambled to my feet and froze, my gaze darting towards the doors of the bar, expecting the owner to come storming out with a shotgun in hand, cocked and ready.
Instinctively, I reached for the Glock sitting low in my back waistband.
“Fuck all that shit, baby! Get on!” Alex shouted over the rumbling engine, pulling the motorcycle forward and hitting me in the shin.
He was right. If it came down to a gun fight, we were the unlikely victors.
Coming over to the side of the bike, I gripped Alex’s broad shoulders with both hands and hoisted myself up, throwing my left leg over the seat. It vibrated underneath me, and I scooted closer to his back, wrapping my arms around his waist.
“Let’s go!” I yelled into his ear, burying my face into his neck.
“Hold tight, kid,” he said, revving the engine, causing it to roar.
I squeezed his torso, breathing in deep as he shot out of the parking lot like a bullet. The back tire kicked up rocks and dirt, leaving a billowing dust cloud.
Glancing back at the bar fading in the distance, Alex increased our speed, and we propelled forward, flying down the interstate. The wind whipped and pounded against my face, causing my unprotected eyes to squint and then close.
It was freeing being on a motorcycle: the unshakeable power between my legs, the wind encasing itself all around me, cocooning me in its embrace, and the man who smelled so fucking good, steering the machine. He was the spirit that snuck in and unknowingly burrowed his touch deep inside my psyche. The fire he stirred within me was maddening, and I pressed my breasts against his back.
In the back of my mind, I knew we were toying with our lives. If the owner of our stolen prize were to catch up with us, there would be zero conversation, only death, but that’s not what made it so exciting.
It was Alex.
He brought the danger and sold it to me like a drug. Nothing made sense when I was with him, but I saw everything so clearly. How could I escape his hold? It was entirely out of my control. I was his disciple, and couldn’t be held accountable for my actions when it pertained to him.
It was innocent at first, a peck on the neck. Alex barely flinched. Then it progressed, and I got braver, raising myself up and getting better access. The skin was calling to me, begging me to bite it. How could I begrudge myself a little taste? It wasn’t going to hurt him…not really.
“Mad?” he questioned, the wind drowning him out. I pretended not to hear him.
I sucked and nipped at his neck, scooting closer to him, and my hands roaming downward. It was a dangerous task to loosen my grip that kept me firmly on the bike, but to feel him—every thick and hardened inch of him—was worth the risk.
Alex squirmed as my fingers slipped underneath his jeans. He wasn’t stupid and knew what I was up to, but he didn’t stop, and the speed increased as we flew down the highway. I took that as a sign to continue. All I needed was one hand wrapped around him to keep me on the seat, glued to his back, and the other one was free to wander.
My mouth was kissing his throat, my eyes closed tight, and I inched my hand further down. The ball of his piercing on the tip of his penis was the first thing my eager fingers met.
It elicited an agonizing want in me.
There was nothing in this world, no trees whipp
ing passed us in a blur, or the unrelenting black asphalt that zipped beneath the bike’s tires was going to deter me now.
As I forced my hand down and gripped him, I could hear his cautioning voice begging me to behave or else he was going to crash. I smiled, attacking him with vigor, kissing the bottom of his jaw, the scruff poking at my lips.
He kept on driving, thrusting us forward, and escalating the danger.
My hand moving up and down his length, barely lubricated by the pre-cum, but I made it work. Twisting my wrist with each stroke, I felt his stomach muscles tightened. He swerved, the Harley wobbled to stay upright, but I didn’t stop. It was reckless and insane, yet it fueled me. I wanted to make him come undone on this motorcycle, and crashing to a fiery death in a fit of ecstasy would be a reasonable price to pay.
“Am I distracting you?” I hummed into his ear, biting down on the lobe, and stroking him faster, as my thumb rolled over the tip of his cock.
“No.” He breathed, his head lolling back and resting against my shoulder.
My mind too consumed with what my hand was doing, and the feel of him beneath the grip of my fingers, that I hadn’t noticed when the bike veered to the right, going off the road and heading straight for disaster.
“Alex! Watch out!” I screamed. Pulling my hand out from his pants, I held on to him tightly as he swerved and tried to compensate for that one slip of concentration.
“Fuck!” he cursed, jerking the handlebars to the left, causing the back tire to slide along the gravel. He stuck his leg out like a kickstand, keeping the motorcycle upright as it spun and spun.
The rocks pelted my bare legs, and I brought them up, away from the assault as I buried my face in Alex’s shoulder. My fingers gripped the fabric of his shirt, making tight fists, squeezing his body to mine, refusing to let him go—no matter the outcome.
The powerful Harley came to an abrupt stop, jolting me forward. I kept my eyes closed, silently willing my heart to slow down. It was painful and felt as though it was going to burst out of my chest. My hands shook as I unclenched my fists, pulling my face away from Alex’s back.
Gasping and taking in large quantities of air, I looked around and saw that we were in a dirt-covered parking lot of a quaint, out of the way diner. The beautiful Harley was still standing erect on two tires, humming and vibrating.
Alex turned to face me and spat. “Are you out of your fucking mind? You could’ve killed us just now? Do you have any idea?”
He was angry with me, and I could see that. That perfect jaw of his clenched, and he grabbed my hips, digging his fingers into the denim of my shorts. I wanted so badly to apologize to him, but I wasn’t sorry. God knows that I would do it again, in a fucking heartbeat.
It was a hostile standoff, and we stared for a long time, both of our gazes unwavering.
Then it happened. I don’t know who cracked first, but suddenly, we were both laughing uncontrollably, which quickly turned into lust.
I sat up and wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling myself on to his lap. He grabbed me by the back of the neck, yanking my head down and crashing his lips to mine. We attacked and clawed at each other, kissing roughly and chaotically, needing more.
“Holy shit, woman,” Alex said, panting heavily against my mouth, barely pulling away. “You’re fucking...”
“Crazy?”
“No,” he said, kissing my lips, slowly and briefly. “You’re amazing.”
I smiled, feeling my face heat up. “Really?”
“Yeah, really,” he replied, matching my smile as he leaned in to kiss me. It was more in-depth this time, no rush, and no tongue. He killed me with the nibbling on my bottom lip, gently grazing me with his teeth.
“Hey!” a woman shouted. Alex and I broke apart, gazing over at the waitress. She wore a yellow dress with a white collar and apron. Her hands over her eyes to block the incoming sun, squinting to get a better look at us. “Are you kids all right?”
“Yeah, we’re fine!” Alex yelled. His eyes flitted away from the waitress, who’d decided to go inside, and back over at me. He nodded his head towards the little hole-in-the-wall. “So…”
“So…what?”
“Are you hungry, kid?”
Alex sat across from me in the booth; the waitress had just set down our drinks, giving us a couple more minutes to look over the menu. It was slow in the restaurant, a few people seated at the bar. The near crash of the motorcycle was still the topic of conversation. Some even commented on how impressed they were with Alex and how quickly he was able to pull out of the tailspin, righting the bike, and getting it to stop.
He was gracious—to a point—but I could see his patience wearing thin. Eventually, they got the hint and scampered off.
We were alone again. That wasn’t smart. You couldn’t trust us to behave. Ever.
“What are you doing?” Alex asked, narrowing his eyes at me.
“Nothing,” I said with a mocked innocence, putting the menu in front of my face, and hiding away from his stare.
My foot, on the other hand, was being naughty, nudging, and stroking Alex with my toe under the table. He shifted several times, trying to combat his arousal, but I was relentless. The pent-up sexual frustration of mine had reached its peak. I was about to combust.
“Bullshit,” he grunted, snatching the menu from my hands, and setting it down on the table. Looking around, he reached down and grabbed my foot, squeezing it. “Don’t tempt me, woman. I’ll fuck you right here.”
I bit my lip as the image of Alex bending me over this table and pounding his cock into me crossed my mind.
“What do I have to do to make that happen?” I asked, wiggling my foot out of his grasp, and fondling his balls again.
Closing his eyes, he groaned softly and slumped further down in the booth. “Keep fucking doing what you’re doing.”
Glancing behind me, I spot our waitress talking to another table across the room. She was busy, and her attention was elsewhere. I scanned the bar to my immediate left, and the seats were unoccupied. Most of the patrons were on the west side of the restaurant, and our booth was off in the corner in the east.
I made a snap decision.
Alex’s eyes stayed closed, unaware of the inner workings of my mind; I slid down my seat and fell to my knees underneath the table.
The floor was clean, and I ducked my head down, keeping it low as I crawled over to Alex and situated myself between his legs. My fingers were on the zipper of his jeans, slowly zipping them down and making a hole for him to slip out. He jerked away, and both his hands came down and flew over mine. I peered up, meeting his wide eyes through the small gap between him and the table.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he whispered.
“I want you in my mouth.”
“Jesus,” he hissed, clenching his jaw.
He wanted to fight me, but his will was weakening. It was easy to push off his hands and unzip the fly of his jeans the rest of the way. I reached in and pulled him out, the tip glistening with moisture, and I licked my lips in anticipation. Rising to my knees, I bent my head down and took as much of him as I could. The skin on his cock was soft against my tongue, and I rolled it around, the piercing grazing on the roof of my mouth. Gripping the thick shaft, I moved my head up and down, sucking and licking.
Alex entangled his fingers in my hair and bucked his hips, moving with me, and hitting the back of my throat. I pulled away, taking in a couple of breaths before starting up again.
“Shit,” he cursed, shifting in his seat, and yanking his hand away from my head.
“Hey, there, you all set? Where did that cute little girl go?” the waitress asked.
Little girl? I thought bitterly, bobbing faster, and sucking harder on my boyfriend’s cock.
“She went to the bathroom,” Alex replied, his tone even with a slight edge to it. “I think we’re—" he stopped as I took my tongue and licked him from the base to tip, taking the stud of the piercing in between my teeth an
d tugging at it. He cleared his throat. “I don’t know what she wants. You might want to come back.”
“All right then, just wave me over when you’ve decided,” she said, suspicion in her voice. I heard the heels of her shoes clicking against the linoleum as she walked away.
Alex reached down and grabbed the sides of my face. “Go to the bathroom.”
“What? Why? She didn’t see me. Relax,” I said, shaking my head free and wrapping my mouth around him again.
He groaned in frustration, pulling away from me and stuffing his dick back into his pants. “Go to the fucking bathroom, Mad.”
I sat back on my heels and pouted.
He nudged me gently with his foot. “Do it now, before she comes back.”
“Fine!” I huffed, crawling to the side of the table, and poking my head out.
The coast was clear.
I rose to my feet and glared over at Alex, but he wasn’t looking at me and acted as if I wasn’t standing there. This guy was worse than Len, the ultimate cockblocker. Flustered and horny, I walked over to the bathroom that was a few feet away from our booth in the corner.
There were three stalls with two large sinks. The floor was a black and yellowed checkered tile and freshly mopped. The bathroom was clean and smelled like Pine-Sol.
Placing my hands on the side of the sink, I stared at my reflection. It was the same as this morning: hair messy and face flushed. Although, I did have a mischievous gleam in my eyes.
I sighed, hanging my head.
Fuck.
How long did he want me to stay in here?
Two minutes?
Five minutes?
It was all a pointless charade, and I was grumpy.
Who knows when the next time Alex and I will have a chance to be together? Kansas City was an hour away, and when we got there, people would surround us. The impromptu morning sex in the bed with our friends sleeping nearby was a onetime deal.
Who was I kidding?
I just dropped to my knees and gave my boyfriend head in a restaurant full of people. It was obvious that I had no shame.
57, 58, 59, 60.
It had been a full minute, and I was ready to leave. Turning on the sink to wash my hands, the door opened behind me. Not bothering to glance up, I reached over and grabbed some paper towels. It was when I heard the distinct locking of the door did my head snap up.