BIKER’S GIFT

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BIKER’S GIFT Page 40

by Claire St. Rose


  His fingers find my nipples, first warming them under his touch. I arch my back towards the steering wheel as his hands follow. His fingers tease at the tips of my brown nipples as he slightly pulls and pushes them in a round. His thumb rocks up and down on the nub sending me reeling.

  Noah pulls my body back towards him, lifting me up so my breast lines up with his mouth. I let out a soft moan as I feel his wet, lapping tongue soak my nipple in his mouth. His tongue continues the twisting, circular motion his hands had just done while his teeth scrape up against the fleshy part of my small breasts. When he bites down, my hand shoots up towards the car’s ceiling, holding myself in place.

  He places his head between my breasts and plants small kisses. But that can’t distract from me noticing his hands yanking down at my jeans. I stand between his straddled legs as I slip the tight pants down my legs. He follows me by pulling his own down, his large, erect cock spilling out of his pants.

  I come back to his lap, sitting so my already wet pussy is hovering just above his cock. I take his mouth again, diving my tongue in. He murmurs as I begin to rock my hips up and down and in a long swivel. His cock dances underneath me in pleasure. He pulls me in tighter, holding me in place. Before he enters me, he takes one long, tantalizing look into my eyes.

  And then I feel it. It’s as if I am being split open. His cock drives deep into my folds, parting me like a knife. It’s painful in a way that makes me call out immediately, but I don’t stop. I don’t push him out. I want to feel every inch, every bit of him growing inside of me. A small, fiery pit grows in my stomach as he begins to push up into me.

  I respond by using my knees on the car seat to push off. I’m bouncing, practically floating. The more I go, the more I get the courage to lift my hips as high as the tip of his cock and then fall back down, taking him all in. He growls in response and his chest vibrates with the sound of his pleasure.

  My own body takes over as my hands grasp his strong shoulders. My fingertips press into his black and gray tattoos and I let myself go. My hips bounce, jump, leap with his cock. They take the lead as he lets me guide us. That same feeling in my stomach overtakes my lungs, my chest, my nipples, my neck, my head until it falls down to my pussy.

  “Noah!” I shout deeply into his ear. My orgasm fires up every nerve ending in my body as I feel as though I’m being torn in every direction of the universe. He holds me tight, pushing me back into his body. I’m cold and warm all over, but his kiss brings me back to life. He moves the wild hairs out of my eyes to look deeply into me as our lips meet.

  I come up for air as he says, “I’m not finished yet. He pushes me off his stiff cock and turns me around so my chest lies across the steering wheel. I grasp on, knowing what is to come. Noah isn’t going to take me as gently as I did him. He’s going to want this his way. I brace myself.

  He again enters me not taking any time. I’m stretched but he manages to still feel like a tight fit. My body feels that same twinge of electricity as I restart. He places one of his legs on the seat for balance and another on the ground. It gives him the ability to practically launch his rocket directly into my slit.

  Noah’s cock punishes me as I want to repent for everything -- for what I said earlier that night, for not trusting his instincts, for leaving behind this magical thing between us. Each thrust is harder, deeper as I want to cry. He uses his palm to slap my ass, sending shockwaves throughout my hips and pussy. He hits me again, this time harder and with his fingertips. I try not to think of the red marks he’s leaving and instead concentrate on how good the surprise of it feels.

  Another one of his hands wraps around my small waist. His fingers pull my legs farther apart and trace up the side of my thigh towards where his cock is rocking into me. He moves downwards towards the tip of my pussy and moves the flesh around my most sensitive spot. Like an expert explorer, he finds my clit. Noah twists at it at first, as I scream out a choked cry.

  Bursts of energy hit me as I come again. This time, I can feel my juices flow out of me like a river onto his cock. The extra lubrication only seems to turn him on as he uses it to get even deeper into me. Noah smooths out the hair next to my neck and looks up at my face awash in shock and awe. Something in him changes as he eases up. He stops the twisting and the slapping and instead massages at the nub.

  His hands guide my body backwards towards him as I snuggle next to his neck. His cock follows in me with his hips dipping lower so he can take the lead. I cry out. But he bites down on my earlobe floating next to his mouth, and I go silent. I need to enjoy this ride.

  Noah’s breathing picks up as I throw my arms up and around his neck. He kisses my shoulder and bites into the small flesh around my collarbone. I watch as his hands slide towards the seats, using it as leverage to make his strokes faster. I turn my head slightly to see his eyes go dark like embers from the flame.

  I pull him in for a kiss as he collapses, shaking underneath me. His cock pushes three hard thrusts as I feel him explode inside of me. I don’t dare to move. I don’t try to turn away or to move. Instead, I feel his head pressed into my shoulder, my arm resting on his feathery hair. And both of us finally take our moment to just breathe.

  Chapter 20 NOAH

  I place my hand on her cheek, feeling the softness of her skin, the hard bone of her jaw. And I do something out of the box for me -- I kiss her again. It’s not because we are having sex or because I want to seduce her. It’s because I want her to know I am here, that she is safe, and that we are together.

  I kiss her again and again until I feel like I am falling back in. But she pushes me back before we can get in too deep again. She leans against the steering wheel and picks up the slinky black tank top off the floor, throwing it on her. As she gathers her things, she turns back to me and asks, “What about Opal? What about the club?”

  “When you arrived, the Bonebreakers were retreating. The Disciples were holding them off. There’s no way they got into that basement.” I don’t sound as sure as my own words. The truth of the matter is that I abandoned my club and my daughter in battle to make sure Faye got out of the line of fire. I cringe to think of what was going to happen to me when the dust settles.

  “But what if --” Faye senses my fear and doubt. She’s got that way about reading people, but it’s a gift that overwhelms her. She takes on everyone else’s emotions as her own, but this is especially true with Opal. Why else would she come all this way to the clubhouse knowing the danger she would face when she could have easily just called the cops? “Noah,” she says interrupting my own thoughts, “You need to go back. You need to go back right now. I can’t be here with you making love when your daughter and your, uh, home is in danger!”

  I don’t care that she has called the motorcycle gang a “home.” I’m more stuck on us “making love.” Were we? Was what I doing to her even in that category? I can’t deny that I’m starting to feel something for her beyond annoyed resentment over all that’s happened with Opal and school. But have we gotten to that place?

  I can’t dwell on this, though. She’s right. There’s something so much more important to think about than our feelings or desires. And that thing is potentially trapped in a clubhouse unable to defend herself. I had to get back to her.

  I reach for my pants as Faye moves back to the passenger side to put on her own jeans. I start the car up as she gives me directions the rest of the way to her house. Neither of us talks. What else is there to say? Our bodies have done enough for one night.

  Her house is just as I imagine it to be. It’s neat, clean, precise. The lawn has been recently cut and there isn’t a leaf to be seen. Unlike the clubhouse, the home itself is in pristine condition without a shingle missing from the roof. As I park, she shrugs a bit nervously as she thinks of what words to leave me with. “This is my place. Thank you for the ride back. How are you going to get back?”

  “I’ll take your car. It’s of no use to you with the busted out windows. I’ll have Moses, our rep
air shop guy, look at it tomorrow.”

  She turns slowly towards me and looks at me hard. Her head tilted to the side as she asks slowly, “Repair shop? Did you hear about that repair shop burning down this afternoon? They found four guys there, maybe dead.”

  I slink down in the seat. She knows it was me. I look down at my hands as if I were a child again caught stealing. “Yeah, I know.”

  She reaches out a hand and lifts my head up and over ‘til I am eye to eye to her. She kneels in the passenger seat so our heads are level. “That was you, wasn’t it? The fire? The bodies? The fire trucks? All of it?”

  I don’t look away. I don’t pretend to be more honorable than I am. That fire and the men on the ground was part of who I am and the life I lead as a Disciple. She won’t understand it or want to understand it, but it’s the truth. There was no use of hiding from it now. “It’s my job, Faye. It’s what I do.”

  She spits back at me, completely taken aback, “It isn’t your job. Jobs are things people quit or retire from. What you’re doing is something much worse…it’s…it’s sport. You’re killing for a team.”

  “Did you see them shooting at you? Did you see them come after us like we were nothing? Those Bonebreakers don’t give a fuck about who we are or what our lives are like. They want to hunt us down and kill us. I was only doing what I had to do to protect myself.”

  “What about Opal? Have you ever stopped to think about her? What if what you did today with the fire started this? What if she’s dead right now because of you?” She’s screaming at me, the little veins on her neck going purple and blue as they pop out. Faye opens her door and exits. She runs over to my side to add one last shot, “You go back to your clubhouse, or whatever it is, and you fix this shit. Because if you think you are going to put that girl in harm’s way again, you’ve got another thing coming for you.”

  “Faye, come on…” I stop myself. I don’t want to fight with her. I know every word she is saying is true. I am selfish. I am unstable. I am nothing without stability like her in my life. I am the catalyst and the last spark, the reason Opal and I both need her so desperately.

  I reach out my hand to gently touch her face and to brush away the hairs from her eyes, but she pulls away. The tears falling from her eyes are making puddles along her jawline as she quivers. She sniffles as she says, “I’ll need my car back for Monday.”

  I nod and turn on the car again. I am only halfway out the driveway when I see another woman run out from the house. She’s dressed in a pair of loose fitting pajama pants. Her sleek bob is messy from being slept on, but she looks as if she has been up for hours. She gathers Faye in her arms and holds her closely to her chest.

  The woman yells something at me, and I stop the car. She runs towards it again, Faye following slowly behind, unsure of what to do. “Listen, asshole! Don’t you dare come back here again. Ever! Take your fucking motorcycle gang and your henchmen and get out of Faye’s life! She doesn’t need you!” She opens the driver’s door and slams it back for emphasis. I sit there stony and silent as I process exactly what is going on. I look towards Faye, but her face is buried in her arm as she pushes back another sob. I don’t know whether to move or to defend myself, and my reluctance to go is only angering her more as she shouts, “Don’t think I haven’t already called the cops on your ass! And tomorrow, I’m calling child protective services. If Faye can’t do it, I will!”

  “Sherri, no.” Faye lets out a small cry. She looks at me nervously, her eyes growing from the shock.

  I’m stunned, “What did you say?”

  “You heard me. You’re not fit to be a father, let alone a man. Faye’s told me everything including what you did to that repair shop. I’m sure CPS won’t let you get within one hundred feet of your daughter after hearing that you’re a murdering arsonist who sells drugs on the side!” She spits at me, coming close to my face. If she were a man, I wouldn’t hold back. But I can’t touch her. She’s someone important to Faye. And even though I am furious at Faye for telling her my, and our, business, I’m still not ready to jeopardize what’s between us over this bitch.

  I ignore her, turning my attention back to the person that matters, calling her name out for her to say it isn’t true, that she would never try to get Opal taken from me. She looks away and heads back towards the house, her friend following behind her with her head held high. As the door shuts, I know this may be the end of our chapter. There was no going back from what she is supposedly going to have to do.

  Chapter 21 FAYE

  Sherri throws her cellphone at me, a number already dialed is flashing onto the screen. “Talk to them, Faye. You have to.”

  My heart is physically aching from the weight of what just happened. I am paralysed in fear and anger at both sides of this. I whisper towards my roommate as I hold my hand over the speaker of the phone, “No Sherri, I can’t. I can’t do this. I can’t. You don’t understand.”

  The waiting music plays over our conversation, giving me an opportunity to back out of this. I look down at the phone at the red button. If I hang up, this could be the end of the question. If I stay on the line, I will doom not only Noah, but also Opal, to a life of pain and suffering. Despite everything Sherri and I both know to be true, I can’t make this decision now -- not after what just happened in the car with Noah saving my life or us embracing as lovers.

  Still, Sherri cannot quit. When she’s on a mission, she won’t just give in like a normal person would. She fights for what matters, even if it means steamrolling over everyone else. She hovers over me, a hand resting firmly on her hip, “What is there to understand, Faye? He is an asshole who can’t be trusted around other human beings, let alone a preteen daughter. You’re her teacher who is supposed to watch out for danger like this. This is your job, and you have to do it.”

  My mind races as I look for something to jump in on. I interject with, “But that’s the thing, Sherri! He’s a great dad. He cares about her. He just doesn’t know how to show it like we do. He was raised like that.”

  I am frantic as the on-hold music swells. Can I make her see what I am saying is true -- that everyone, including a man like Noah, cannot be held accountable for what he thinks to be normal? Can I convince myself that what Sherri is saying is the necessary answer, even if it causes so much suffering along the way? I only have seconds to decide.

  Sherri tries a new tactic as she sees how conflicted I am. She sits down next to me and turns her body fully towards mine. She has morphed herself into a sitting Buddha, calm and collected as she takes my hands in hers. She pulls me closer as she says, “Do you see what he is doing to you, Faye? You would never, ever excuse someone for the life this girl leads. You’re all messed up in this physical mess. You’re letting him get to your head because of the sex. But that isn’t fair to Opal now, is it?”

  “But --” I have no response other than ‘but’ and ‘however.’ There are no words to follow, no ways to defend his actions anymore than I already have. Our passionate sex shouldn’t be the reason why I don’t do my duty as Opal’s teacher and report the things about her life I find concerning. After all, what could I expect from Noah -- certainly not a real romantic relationship with the things I wanted. There would be no hand-holding on vacation, Valentine’s Day cards, or engagement rings in our future. What we had was raw and in the moment, and I surely shouldn’t count on it being here tomorrow or the next day.

  Sherri sees the key in my reaction. She clears her throat and says, “Fine. Then answer me this: where is Opal right now? Is she safe? Is she somewhere secure? Is her life not in danger anymore?”

  She’s hit the nail on the head as I flash back to why I was so upset leaving Noah in the first place. He can’t promise me Opal is safe. He can’t promise me I am safe. So why am I trying to explain away who he is. He’s the man who probably killed several people today in addition to the men he shot at during the battle back at the clubhouse. I needed to come to terms with this.

  Sherri stif
fens as she lowers her voice to add the cherry on top: “Faye, do the right thing. I know you can do this.” Sherri hands me the phone as I hear the person on the other line finally answer. When I don’t immediately respond, the woman repeats “Hello? Hello?” to herself.

  The moments between Noah and I -- being held in the car, lying naked on the floor of his bedroom, our fights in the kitchen -- all come flooding back to me as I make my final decision. I swallow hard. What I am about to do is not going to be easy or right for anyone. But it has to be done.

  My voice shakes and quivers as I speak into the phone, “Hello. I am sorry to call so late, but my name is Faye Harvey, and I am a teacher over at Washington Elementary School. I need to report…”

  Chapter 22 NOAH

  The lights of the neighborhood are completely out. There’s not a soul to be seen or heard. It’s just like one of those Wild West ghost towns I’ve seen in movies. This time, though, the battle is real.

 

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