by Jessie Cooke
He kissed Tricia again, feeling her whole body tremble against his. She was breathing hard when he reached for her pants, unbuttoned and unzipped them, and with one hand began pushing them down. He felt her hands go to her waistband and he let her take over, sliding one of his hands instead down between her legs, into her panties, and feeling how wet she was. He played in the silky, hot wetness while she squirmed and whimpered, and then delighted in how she cried out when he found her clit and began to pinch and rub his fingers against it. She moved her hips and he rubbed hard and fast. Her breathing got more ragged as she stood against the wall, with her legs trapped in the pair of jeans around her calves and her bra almost up around her neck, and he fingered her. It was hot, and just the sight of her like that was making him grow bigger and harder and more uncomfortable in his own jeans. Her hands were under his shirt now, on his back, cutting little scratches into it like a pair of scissors. He didn’t care; that was hot too.
“Oh, Jesus, Wolf...I’m gonna come!” she cried out suddenly. He rubbed harder, putting his mouth next to her ear.
“Come for me. Come for me and then I’m going to fuck that pussy silly.” That pushed her over the edge and as she cried out his name and gripped onto him tighter, he felt the rush of her juices flow across his fingers and drip down onto the palm of his hand. It only took her seconds to recover before she was pulling at his clothes, trying to strip them off him. He took a step back and took over and while he peeled his off, she took off the rest of hers. After they were both naked, he took her by the arm and led her to the couch. Spinning her so that she was facing away from him, he nudged her forward. Tricia took hold of the back of the couch and Wolf found his mark and plunged. She was the only woman he didn’t use a condom with. They’d made that promise to each other years before...even before Amara. They both always used a condom with anyone else. Wolf hadn’t when he was with his wife, but he and Tricia hadn’t fucked then either. Being together was like therapy for them both and part of that therapy was feeling someone so intimately...skin to skin...and knowing that no one else had been there for a very long time.
Wolf hadn’t had sex in a week, since Amber. He’d jerked off a few times to the thoughts of Blair Newman, but that was no substitute for a tight pussy. He grabbed Tricia by the hips and began to plunge in and out of her, hard and fast. He’d pull completely out, and each time she’d gush, before he’d plunge back in for more. She gripped onto the couch and thrust her hips in and out, falling into rhythm with his. It didn’t take long before he felt his orgasm building. He let go of her hips and reached up to grab hold of her hair with one hand, while he slipped the thumb of his other hand into her butt. Pulling back on her hair like it was a mane and he was riding a horse bareback, and feeling his cock against his thumb in her butt, he finally let go. He came hard, and he came a lot...and another thing he loved so much about his best friend was...as soon as he was finished, she kissed him deeply, got dressed, and went home. Wolf was left alone to shower and sleep like a baby, until the alarm went off the next day, announcing that it was time to meet Bruf and head to Vegas. Vegas, baby! Something told him this trip was going to be one to remember. He couldn’t wait.
“Are you sure you feel good enough for this?” Blair’s father wasn’t a worrier. He’d raised his daughter to fend for herself and he’d done a great job of letting her do just that her entire life. But the idea of a madman trying to kill her...wanting to rape her...it had almost been too much for him. He and her mother had driven down from Sacramento when she was in the hospital and they’d taken her home with them. It was partially her fault that he wanted to treat her like a little girl at this point. She’d been an absolute mess when she first woke up in the hospital. Every time she closed her eyes after that, she saw Mouse’s face. She heard his voice, talking about raping and killing her. She saw him destroy poor Michael Parker’s face...and she saw the way his head exploded when Wolf...the president of the Westside Skulls...had pressed the gun into it and pulled the trigger. It was not just a nightmare when she closed her eyes either. It was a waking nightmare as well...it dominated all of her thoughts and made it hard for her to do anything else. But she was going to do this. Her father had gotten up at the crack of dawn to take her to the airport...but it was obvious that he desperately didn’t want her to go. It had been a hard week...the hardest she could ever remember...and she had compassion for what it had put her parents through...but she needed this.
She had managed to talk to her supervisor and arrange for a few weeks off work. She rarely took time off, so she had almost a month’s vacation time saved up. She knew she might need it all and then some. The idea of being alone in a room with an inmate or parolee at the moment overwhelmed her to the point of making her feel sick. She’d talked to Lana on the phone almost every day. By the third day, when Lana hadn’t mentioned Las Vegas, Blair finally asked her if she was still going.
“Yes...unless you need me to come home. If you do, please tell me, honey and I’m there.”
“No, I don’t want you to come home. I want to meet you in Vegas.”
“Really? I just assumed...”
“That I wanted to stay here at my parents’ with my head buried in the sand?”
“Of course not. I know how tough you are. I just assumed you needed a break...a rest.”
“I do. But not with Mom and Dad hovering. I need a real vacation. I need something to take my mind off all of this, at least for a while.”
“Then by all means love, come on. You can even come early if you like. My parents wouldn’t mind you staying with us.”
“Thank you, but Vegas for the weekend will be fine. My plane leaves Saturday morning at six a.m. I’ll take an Uber from the airport and meet you at the Venetian.”
Lana’s tickets had also included hotel accommodations for two at one of the nicest resorts on the strip. It was a sweet deal and Blair found herself surprisingly excited about it. Her parents, however, were of a different mind. “Yeah, Daddy, I feel good enough. I just need to get away for a day or two. I’ll be fine, I promise. You know I can take care of myself. This was...this thing with Mouse was a horrible, isolated incident. Once in a lifetime.”
He looked so anxious that she almost felt bad enough to stay...almost, but not quite. “Okay, but promise me that you and Lana will stay together the whole time.”
She smiled. “I promise. We’re going to do some shopping and maybe a little gambling Saturday, have a nice dinner in the evening, and go to the Pay-Per-View fight. You should watch it, maybe you’ll see me on camera. Lana said we have ringside seats.”
Her dad smiled slightly and said, “You hate fights.”
She shrugged, “I know, but it’s not about the fight, it’s about the experience and the fact that it’s going to take my mind off all this shit back here...for two days...and then it’s back to reality.” Her dad nodded.
“Okay. You have your gun?”
“I checked it, but yes.”
“Good; plenty of ammunition?”
She laughed. “I’m not going to war, Dad, but yeah, I have everything I need.”
“I love you.”
She smiled softly and touched his face. “I know. I love you too.” Boarding for her flight was announced overhead and she hadn’t even gone through TSA yet. She kissed his cheek and said, “I gotta go. I’ll be there in an hour or less and I’ll text you when we land.” She left him there, looking worried and feeling sad and a little worried herself. She boarded her flight and hoped that the weekend in Vegas would be just what the doctor ordered...a little bit of anesthetic for a wounded soul.
9
“One more shot!” Lana was in quite the party mood. The girls had spent the day shopping, each buying a sexy dress to wear for the PPV event. They had after-party passes as well, and Lana had assured Blair that all the women there would be wearing something low-cut and sexy. Blair had ended up buying a black, sequined club dress. It was strapless, and her breasts swelled up over the top of it.
It was short too...much shorter than she was used to. The shoes probably didn’t help with that. She’d bought a pair of killer black stilettos with six-inch heels. She felt pretty, and Lana kept telling her how hot she looked...but if she hadn’t already had four or five mixed drinks, it would probably not be something that she’d even consider wearing.
“I think we’ve had enough shots,” she told her tipsy friend. They were at the bar in the MGM Grand Hotel, waiting for the doors to open so they could find their seats for the fight. The bar was packed and they hadn’t paid for a drink since they walked in. Blair wasn’t encouraging any of the advances she was receiving, except maybe by wearing the outfit she had on. But Lana, on the other hand—she was on the prowl. Alcohol made her horny, and Blair only hoped that she didn’t have to find somewhere else to stay tonight when Lana found some young, hot stud to bring back to the room.
“Oh, come on! We’re not driving. We’re in Vegas. We don’t have to work tomorrow. We look hot...take another shot with us.” “Us” was Lana and two young guys that looked about college age. Blair had no interest in college boys. If she did decide to hook up with a man...ever again...it would be with a real man. That thought had her picturing Wolf...the president of the Westside Skulls. She shivered slightly, urging herself to get the man off her mind. She knew the only reason she was thinking about him was out of some kind of gratitude for his saving her life. At first, the thoughts of his killing Mouse the way he did had frightened her, but the more she thought about it, the more she reminded herself that if Wolf and his friends hadn’t shown up, she’d be dead...raped, and dead. “Here,” Lana put a shot glass in her hand. Blair could smell the strong cinnamon of the Fireball and her stomach rolled slightly. She hadn’t eaten since lunch. That was what she should be doing instead of slamming drinks in a bar.
“We should get something to eat before the fight starts,” she told Lana. Lana pushed her blonde hair back over one shoulder and held up her glass. The sequins on her red dress sparkled like a disco ball through the shot glass. She tapped it against Blair’s and said:
“Okay, but take the shot first. This one is to us!” Blair laughed. So far, they had all been “to us.” She shook her head slightly and downed the drink. By the time she sat the glass on the bar, Lana was off, on her way to the dance floor with one of the college guys. The other was eyeing her.
“Wanna dance?”
She smiled and her stomach rolled again. She really needed to eat or she wouldn’t make it through the fights. She didn’t drink often, and they had been hitting it hard all day. “No, thank you.”
“Aw, come on, baby.” He stepped up close to her...too close. She put her hands up and used the tips of her fingers to push him back slightly.
“I’m not your baby. I don’t want to dance, and please don’t stand so close to me.”
“My luck, I’d get stuck with the frigid bitch,” he said. Blair was about to react...she wasn’t sure how, but she was drunk enough that she wasn’t going to let the little freak who was barely out of puberty talk to her that way. But she didn’t have time. There was suddenly a huge, beefy arm on the kid’s scrawny shoulder. The arm was coming from behind her and she heard a deep voice rumble almost in her ear:
“Apologize.”
The kid looked like he was going to cry, or pee. He choked out an “I’m sorry,” and then as soon as the big hand released him, he turned and pushed his way quickly through the crowd. Blair turned around slowly and came almost face to face with Wolf. Even in her six-inch heels she had to look up slightly to see his face. He was looking at her with a pair of sexy, soft brown eyes that had just scared the hell out of the college kid. They didn’t scare her...but they did do all kinds of other things to her body.
“Thank you,” she said, before it suddenly dawned on her that she was in Vegas. She was in Vegas and so was Wolf. Of all the bars in Vegas, they were in the same one. Was he following her? Suddenly, she was afraid. Her mind started bringing up all kinds of horrible things. Richard, Mouse, blood all over her kitchen floor and walls... “What are you doing here?” she blurted out.
“Waiting for the fight to start. I saw you and your friend come in, but...” He stopped there. She waited and he didn’t go on so finally she said:
“But?” She and Lana had been in the bar for over an hour. If he saw her come in, why didn’t he talk to her then? Had he been watching her this whole time? Her eyes scanned the crowd behind him, looking for the rest of his biker friends. She knew that they rarely went anywhere alone...especially the president of the club, and especially wearing their colors. She didn’t see anyone else in a kutte, but the place was wall-to-wall people, so that didn’t mean they weren’t there, hidden in the crowd. “Were you following me?” she asked him straight out. The alcohol was doing most of the talking, but she couldn’t seem to stop it. “Seems like an awfully big coincidence, just bumping into each other six hundred miles from home.”
He looked like he didn’t know whether to be angry or amused. With a tone that said he was somewhere in between he said, “No, I wasn’t following you. Like I said, I saw you come in. I was partying with my friends and came up here to get another drink, just in time to hear that punk call you a frigid bitch.” She cringed at that and the look on his face softened. “Anyways, sorry for interfering. I get a little pissed when I hear a woman being abused.” He turned away then and once again the alcohol took over. She reached out and put her hand on his arm. He stopped and looked down at it for a second before turning back to face her.
“I’m sorry,” she said, reluctantly taking her hand off his muscular arm. “I’m a little touchy lately.”
His face softened again, at least what she could see of it underneath the thick beard he wore. “Understandable,” he said. He cleared his throat then, like he was nervous. It was funny to her. Wolf Lee didn’t look like the kind of guy that would be nervous about anything. “The guys and I were going to grab some dinner before the fight. You want to join?”
She looked over her shoulder. Lana was back at the bar, sans the college guy, and she looked like she might be looking for her. “I’d better go take care of my friend, but thank you. We’ll be at the fight too. Maybe I’ll see you there.”
He smiled at that and said, “Well, make sure you put your money on the Gunner. The blue-eyed Puerto Rican.”
She laughed. “Thanks for the tip.” He winked at her and her stomach fluttered...but not from the fermenting alcohol this time. He did things to her with just a look. She knew if she were completely sober, she wouldn’t think that was a good thing. She worked for CDCR, her career was important, and he was the leader of a gang...a criminal enterprise. But the warm alcohol flowing through her veins was trying to convince her otherwise. It even had her thinking about something she’d never done...a weekend hookup in Vegas. After all, if it happened there, it would have to stay there, right?
“Anytime,” he said. He didn’t walk away. He waited for her to go first, and she almost didn’t. Finally, on shaky legs and with her core on fire, she turned toward where Lana was and swam through the crowd to get to her. She needed to get some food in her belly and maybe a few cups of coffee. The thoughts she was having were dangerous...and so was Wolf. She’d seen that for herself firsthand.
Bruf would have never let Wolf out of his sight for so long in any other venue. But tonight, Wolf had made him promise he would just relax and have a good time. Currently, as Wolf got back to their table from the bar, Bruf was holding a perky little redhead on his lap. She was wearing a t-shirt that said “Sister of the Bride.” Wolf took his seat next to Dax Marshall and his old lady Angel and said, “Looks like my SA took me seriously when I told him to cut loose and have a good time.”
Dax laughed. “Yep. I thought he knew her at first. He just reached his hand out as she walked by, she took it, and he pulled her into his lap...but then I heard him asking her name.”
“Casanova has nothing on him.” Another young Southside Skull walked up then,
grinning almost as wide as Wolf’s inner beast had been grinning when he saw Blair.
“Wolf, this is Ryder. It’s his bike on the line tonight, what Gunner is fighting for.”
Ryder took Wolf’s outstretched hand and said, “Edith.”
“Excuse me?”
Still grinning the guy said, “Her name is Edith. If you get a chance, you should go out to the showroom and look at her. They just moved her over here.”
Wolf chuckled. “Edith, huh?”
“Yep. Well, it’s nice to finally meet you. I’m gonna go out and check her out again, make sure they haven’t hurt her.” Wolf and Dax watched him go and, laughing, Dax said:
“There’s no accounting for taste.”
Wolf smiled and then as an afterthought said, “Hey, I thought you and your lady were going down to see Gunner before the fight starts.”
Dax rolled his eyes. “We did, but...” Zack, one of Dax’s other men and one that Wolf had developed a friendship with, piped in there:
“Like Dax was saying a minute ago, there’s no accounting for taste. Gunner’s old lady was in there doing what she does best, giving orders and spouting off at the mouth.”