Biker with Benefits

by Mickey Miller

  Twisting my head, I see Andrew, the camera shaking in his hands.

  “Should I keep snapping?” he asks timidly. “You two are . . . fuck. I haven’t felt like this in years.”

  Jax holds himself deep inside me, and I grip him tight. Through my ecstasy, I can barely speak, but I manage to hold the conversation.

  “No more photos,” I breathe.

  Andrew puts the camera to the side, and, as if in a trance, takes several steps toward us.

  “What haven’t you felt like in years?” I ask him, still feeling Jax’s strong hands on my ribs. “Tell me.”

  “I haven’t felt aroused in years.”

  My eyes widen, and my jaw drops. Jax thrusts into me again, and I feel my world being pulled back again to just the two of us.

  “No arousal at all?” I ask.

  Andrew swallows. “None. I saw a doctor about it. And do you see this?”

  He glances down at his khaki shorts, and it’s clear as day that a tent is popping out of them.

  “Watch us,” I tell him.

  “Watch you . . . do what?”

  I let out another hard breath as Jax pulls out and then thrusts all the way inside me.

  Jax’s deep voice interrupts us. “You know what you’re watching. Don’t you? So watch. Enjoy yourself. Stop being so damn serious all the time.”

  I hold on to the back of Jax’s neck as his thrusts become quicker. Every time he presses into me, I feel the butterflies spread in my stomach.

  “Yes,” I mewl. “Yes, Jax.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see Andrew fist his cock as he watches us.

  And then it is just Jax and I, getting lost in each other like we have so many times. The show goes on, but it’s not for Andrew or anyone else. And it’s not even a show. It’s an act of love, and we trust Andrew enough to be part of it.

  As my first orgasm roars through my body, Jax kisses my mouth hard, covering up my moan.

  I come so powerfully that I wonder if being watched not only doesn’t keep me from getting off—maybe it helps.

  A lot.

  Jax pulls me down off the bar counter and rips my shirt and bra off along with his T-shirt.

  He turns my body toward the counter and pushes into me from behind. Anchoring my hands on the bar, I solidify myself as he thrusts into me with his hard length, pleasure ratcheting through me.

  Glancing up, I see Andrew stroking his hard cock.

  The intensity of the moment is too much for me, and I come again, feeling myself clench on Jax.

  Jax’s hot breath is in my ear, and my eyes roll up in the back of my head. As I come down, I see Andrew’s body clench up, and he lets out a soft growl as he comes, his eyes locked onto mine.

  “Holy shit,” I mutter, gripping Jax harder and rocking my hips into him.

  Jax presses his chest into my back and mutters something incoherent. Then he fists my hair into a knot and pulls me to him for a kiss. His cock twitches inside me and he feasts on my mouth.

  When he’s done coming, Jax presses his lips to my neck.

  “Well,” he says, pulling out of me. “That’s was certainly song-worthy. Wouldn’t you say?”

  I roll my eyes and push against Jax’s shoulder.

  “Not everything you do is song-worthy.”

  “Maybe not,” he says. “But that was.”

  I look over at Andrew, who still has the same speechless look on his face.

  “Okay, fine,” I say. “That was song-worthy. I think I’ll call it ‘Sometimes You Need an Extra Hand.’”

  32

  Harmony

  Two months later, I’m moving my things to Jax’s for the second time.

  “You sure you want me to move in with you?” I chide as he brings the last box inside and up the stairs. “I can be demanding, you know.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll let you know when you’re getting out of line.”

  His new apartment, located above his restaurant, is spacious, and he tells me I can choose whatever color I want. There’s a second bedroom, too, and Jax has already dubbed it “The Harmony Studio.”

  I’ve picked out bright orange, pink, and blue for the three different walls in the studio. I’m still thinking on the rest of the place.

  We clink our Diet Cokes and sip our refreshments in silence.

  My heart warms thinking about moving in with Jax.

  For the second time.

  The first time seemed too quick, in retrospect. I was right to be cautious.

  But now, anything beside living here would feel . . . not right.

  I hoist my legs onto Jax’s lap and lie back on the couch. Sinking in, I smile over at Jax. It just feels too darn good to be true.

  Part of me feels like an imposter. Like I’ve suddenly been transported to someone else’s life, where I have a boyfriend who truly supports me.

  Though he’s not perfect. He’s prone to anger—and we’ll work on that. But at least the night terrors have subsided.

  As my thoughts warm and I consider which color to paint the fourth wall in my studio, my phone buzzes on the coffee table.

  I let out a frustrated sigh but grab it anyway. I don’t recognize the number, but nevertheless I slide my finger across the screen and pick it up.

  “Hello.”

  “Well fucking well, Harmonious Laney.”

  Adrenaline rushes through me when I realize who it is.

  “Why the fuck are you calling me, Roddy? And whose number is this? I blocked your sorry ass.”

  Jax instantly tenses at the name Roddy. He presses his ear to the phone, so I put it on speaker.

  “Oh, so we’re just on ‘talk to my lawyer’ terms now? I thought we were friends, Harmony,” he says, and I notice his voice is shaky.

  My mouth opens so wide my jaw is practically on the floor. “I have no idea what you’re talking about! But if you thought we were ‘friends,’ then you had better get your head checked.”

  “I got a takedown notice for a song I wrote recently, ‘Tomorrow Never Comes.’ What the hell, Harmony? If word gets out about this, it’s going to taint the Roddy Stillmaker brand. I’m trying to finalize my next world tour right now.”

  My insides curl up, but I tilt my head and look at Jax, confused.

  “Takedown notice?”

  I put the phone on mute. “What the hell is he talking about?”

  Jax squints like he’s thinking about something. “Oh, shit. I think my mom may have just gone and issued it. Or her lawyer friend, who’s apparently one of the top copyright lawyers in the country.”

  I spread my arms. “And you didn’t tell me this, why?”

  “We had a lot going on then . . . and I kind of forgot it. Besides, your other song is better.”

  “Harmony? Hello?!”

  Power courses through me. It’s the pitch of his voice. He’s panicked, like a rat when the exterminator comes to town. Roddy knows how wrong he is. And it will be fun to watch him squirm.

  I wink at Jax. “Yes, Roddy dear?”

  “I can’t believe this. Can you—for just one second—think about how this is going to look for me?”

  “You know, you’re right,” I say. “It’s going to look pretty bad when everyone finds out you stole my original song too.”

  “Oh, please. Cut that out. You aren’t good enough to perform your own song and you know it.”

  My blood boils. “You know what I hate the most about you, Roddy?”

  “What?”

  “That I was stupid enough to once think you were even worth a second look. It is lawyer chat from here on out. I do want to say thanks, though.”

  “Thanks for what?”

  “Thanks for helping me realize how good I have it with my current boyfriend, who actually knows how to take care of me. And yes, I mean in all ways. Yes, I faked it with you. Goodbye.”

  I hang up the phone, my heart racing, and fall into Jax.

  “Hell yeah! I love angry Harmony. Now do your stepmom.”
/>   I roll my eyes. “I haven’t even talked to her since I’ve come here, you know.”

  “You’ve talked with your dad, though.”

  “I did. He was happy when he found out I moved out. Not so happy when he found out we were moving back in.”

  “I see,” says Jax.

  “He just doesn’t like the idea of me moving in with someone who’s not my fiancé.”

  “I get that. Hey, will you play me a song?”

  I recoil, a little confused. “Right now?”

  He nods. “Right now.”

  I shrug. “Weird. But okay.”

  Pulling my guitar out of its case, I notice something rattling around inside of it.

  “Did I leave a guitar pick in here?” I say, half to myself and half to Jax.

  Shaking my guitar, I can hear it.

  “Super weird. You better get that checked out,” Jax says.

  Tipping my guitar over, I rattle it until a little plastic case falls out.

  My pulse races as I reach to pick it up.

  Jax stops me, grabs it, and kneels in front of me. I cover my mouth as my eyes start to well up.

  He flips the little case open and I see a sparkling ring poking out. “Harmony,” he starts, his voice low. “I never told you this. On that night I saw you in LaRisa’s, I was feeling low. So low, I was starting to feel like I didn’t belong anywhere. Like I was just a misfit destined to walk this earth in vain for the rest of my years. You drew me in with your voice, your song, and your energy. You got me away from the edge that night. I don’t even want to tell you what I was thinking about doing.”

  My heart wrenches. “No, Jax. Why would you ever think something like that?”

  He continues, “I’m not perfect. But I’ll sure as hell take care of you and love you for the rest of my days, if you let me. Do you want to take this crazy ride with me? Do you want to let me beat up your ex-boyfriends if I have to—hopefully not, though. Harmony, you’ve unlocked the key to my soul, and it’s been only a few months. But I can’t just move in with you and not do this, when being with you forever is all I want. Every time I see you play, it’s all I can think about. I kept reasoning, well, I could do this tomorrow, or next month, or any time, really. But today is better, because tomorrow never comes. Harmony Lane, will you marry me?”

  “Yes. Yes. A thousand times yes!”

  Jax smiles desperately, getting off his knee, and hugs me tighter than he ever has before.

  “I love you, Harm. Play for me every night.”

  I pull back with a smirk. “I love you too, Jax. Cook for me every night?”

  “Maybe,” he winks.

  Slipping his hand around to my back pocket, he feels a piece of paper. I squint as he pulls it out, holding it in front of me.

  Unfolding the piece of paper, he runs his eyes over the writing it’s a little washed out, but he smiles as he hands it to me.

  It’s a little scribbly and faded out since I’ve washed these jeans. I flash back to the first ride Jax ever gave me. I’ve totally since forgotten about this particular note.

  I read it out loud: “Harm. No matter what happens, we’ll always have this one night. And isn’t that beautiful? P.S. - Please keep this phone number for all of your riding needs. XO, Jax.”

  My jaw falls open, remembering the lengths I went to when I’d lost Jax’s number.

  All I had to do was check my pants pocket. Silly me.

  Biting my lip, I flash a look up at him. “So,” I say, wiggling my eyebrows. “You want to take me for a ride?”

  Jax runs his hand through my hair, a slight smile spreading on his face. “What kind of ride are we talking about?”

  “My favorite kind of ride.”

  “A ride to the ice cream shop? You got it.

  “Ass. You know I mean,” I chide.

  He shrugs, sliding his hand down my back. “I mean, we’ve got time for both. It’s not like we’re in a rush.”

  Epilogue

  Jax

  That winter, Harmony catches a break.

  Well, she catches a break, that is, if you want to define a break as getting your first top-forty song stolen, then working your ass off for years, and then finally getting one tiny bit of luck.

  A bigwig agent comes into my restaurant with her assistant, sees Harmony playing the nightly acoustic show, and asks me who she is while I’m visiting their table, schmoozing and telling them about the chef’s special.

  “You haven’t heard of Harmony Lane? She’s the biggest name in East Nashville these days.”

  The agent furrows her brow, looking closer.

  “Holy crap, you’re right. That’s the Harmony Lane. Of that recent viral photo.”

  I feel my chest start burn. Harmony hasn’t mentioned anything about a viral photo. “Excuse me?”

  “Is it true that this picture is her?”

  My eyes damn near bulge out of my head. It’s a picture of Harmony and me from our photo shoot.

  On the bar.

  Fucking.

  The picture is of her twisting her head to kiss me, her arm curled up and wrapped around my head.

  But it’s impossible to confirm for sure who it is, since the top of the photo is cut off at her mouth, and all you can see is the top of my head.

  The bottom of the photo damn near reaches her nipple, but it falls just short.

  An angry heat rushes through me.

  Andrew must have done this.

  “I can neither confirm nor deny who that photo is,” I say.

  The agent continues, her stern expression changing to a smile. “Well, you tell whoever does Harmony’s PR that this is a damn stroke of genius. I’ve got all of my clients asking me about her and if it’s true.”

  “They want to know if that sexy photo is her?” I ask.

  “No,” the agent shakes her head. “They want to know if she can really sing as good as her YouTube videos show, and she’s still unsigned.”

  I glance over at Harmony. She’s on the stage finishing her set. Our eyes lock, and I wink.

  “For my final song,” she says. “I’m going to play a little ditty called ‘The Watcher.’”

  Hoots and hollers are heard from the bar. She sings.

  The agent shakes her head. “I just don’t understand where she gets the inspiration for her songs. You have any clue?”

  Clearing my throat, I shake my head. “No idea.”

  Harmony sings, and after she’s done, the place roars with applause.

  The agent claps along. “So who’s Harmony’s agent?”

  I shrug. “She’s still selecting one.”

  “Well why didn’t you say so! Jim McConnell just texted me. He’s interested in, and I quote, ‘the sexy brunette who leaks photos like that and can sing like an angel.’”

  I nod. “Hell yeah she can.”

  After putting down her guitar, Harmony sifts through the crowd and finds me. “Hey, babe.” She kisses me on the cheek and then turns to the agent and her assistant. “How y’all doing tonight?”

  Her smile is bubbly, like always. She doesn’t know who this woman is.

  “Harmony, my name is Teri Shultz. How’d you like to open up for Jim McConnell on his world tour this spring?”

  Harmony’s eyes widen. “Um, what?”

  “I’m serious. Here’s my card. I hear you’re still looking for an agent. Think it over.”

  She is practically levitating. “I absolutely love Jim McConnell. I would do this in a heartbeat.” I eye her, and she takes a deep breath. “Send me the papers. I want to have my lawyer look them over.”

  Later that night, the place has started to thin out. I lead her behind the bar, which is currently unoccupied.

  “Hey,” I whisper, pulling her hips into me. “I have to tell you something. It’s a little weird.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I think Andrew leaked a photo from that shoot. One of your—our—photos went viral. We’re technically unidentifiable. At least I am. But
you’ve got that damn cursed cute chin.”

  Pulling up the photo, I show it to her.

  She just giggles.

  I scrunch up my face. “Are you serious? You don’t care that he leaked this? I’m going to have words with him. This isn’t cool at all. He’s lucky there’s been a good reaction to it.”

  She hops up on the bar counter, and I notice she’s in the exact spot on the bar where I kissed her during that summer photo session that got a little too out of control.

  Andrew, Harmony, and I have never spoken about it. It’s been our little secret.

  She nibbles at my ear, and then she turns my head so she can whisper, “What if I told you he wasn’t the one who leaked that photo? I was.”

  My jaw drops. “I would say you’re a bad, bad girl who didn’t ask for my permission to share that photo.”

  Dragging her finger up my chest, she looks me in the eye. “So what are you going to do about it?”

  Pulling her hips off of the bar counter, I spin her around so we’re in the exact same position as we were in the photo.

  The agent looks over at us, and we both wave at the same time.

  “What am I going to do? Well, first, I’m going to tell you well done for creating a viral sex scandal in the vein of Kim Kardashian.”

  “And second?”

  “Second, as soon as everyone is out of here, I’m going to fuck you so good, you’ll wish you asked my thoughts on you distributing that picture.”

  “What would you have said?”

  “I would have said hell yeah!”

  Second Epilogue

  Harmony

  Adrenaline pours through me as I stand on stage in the United Center in Chicago, playing for the first giant crowd of my life, opening for Jim McConnell.

  The crowd is loud and raucous, at least twenty thousand strong.

  For the first time on stage, I have a backup band and two backup singers.

  Jax sits in the front row along with his grandparents, mother, and sister.

  One look at Jax, and my tingles increase fourfold. His smile is both relaxed and serious.

  It’s damn close to what I remember him looking like when he first saw me at LaRisa’s.