Wilde Ride

by Maegan Lynn Moores

  The paint on the outside of the building is peeling. A couple of the windows look cracked and there are several motorcycles parked in front of the bar. I look down at what I’m wearing, which is a white camisole with a little gray cashmere sweater, a black pencil skirt and black stiletto heels and my hair is worn up in a chignon. Yeah, I’m totally not going to fit in here.

  Brent, sensing my discomfort, tries to reassure me by saying, “You look great, Ella. We’ll be fine. I’ve come here a couple of times with some friends and nothing happened. It’s all good.”

  I take my hair down and run my fingers through it. That’s better; I feel a little more casual.

  The sign above the door says, ‘Wilde Ride’ and I can’t help but think about the sexy biker from last summer and about the kind of wild ride I could have with him. Whoa, where the hell did that come from Miss Virgin? I stifle a laugh and enter the bar entrance with Brent close behind me, his hand pressing on my lower back.

  The inside of the bar looks just as rundown as the outside. On the plus side, it is clean looking.

  It’s really busy here and I can’t help but notice that most of the customers are attractive females wearing very revealing clothes and are well endowed. I look down at my cleavage and wonder if I should pull down my camisole a little bit to show off my girls. Nah, don’t be stupid, Ella.

  We spot two stools by the bar and quickly go snag them before someone else does.

  The bartender turns around and I make eye contact with a very familiar (and did I mention gorgeous) pair of blue eyes. I can’t help the small shiver that goes through my entire body. Of course, I would run into him here. I try not to look at his body with that white t-shirt, tight across his chest. Oh God, he still looks amazing!

  “What can I get ya?” he asks, pulling me out of my stupor of staring at his chest, wondering what it looks like underneath.

  He totally just caught me. I can tell by the sexy smile that makes me melt on the bar stool. Does he remember me? God, I hope so. Now, I’m really rethinking the cleavage issue. I should have definitely adjusted my camisole to show off my assets. I grin at my wicked thoughts.

  Brent asks me what I would like and I tell him a Budweiser.

  “Two Buds, please.”

  I don’t know if I imagined it, but it almost looks like he scowls at Brent before turning away to get our beers. He returns with our bottles and then walks toward the opposite end of the bar to serve some other women waiting there.

  I can’t help but notice their reaction to him as he’s taking the orders. They constantly reach out and touch him, laugh at things he says and stare at him with lustful eyes. What a bunch of whores, I think to myself.

  The whole time Brent is talking to me, I can’t really concentrate on what he is saying because I can feel a pair of steely blue eyes on me. It makes me squirm on my bar stool.

  Brent excuses himself to use the washroom and as soon as this happens, I feel a rush of warm air hit the back of my neck and in my ear I hear a whispered, “Ditch the fuckwad and meet me back here when I get off at eight.”

  I didn’t even think about it, I just nod and respond with a breathy “Okay.” He smiles, turns and walks away from me.

  Brent returns and asks me if I would like to go back to his place for a drink. I lie to him by telling him that I’m really tired and need to get home to get some rest for tomorrow morning, but maybe some other time. I can’t believe how easy it is for me to lie to him so I could spend some time with my biker.

  OMG! My Biker, I so did not think that.

  Shortly after we finish our drinks, we get up and head towards the door to leave. Taking one last look towards the bar before leaving, I notice the bartender watching us. He winks and then looks like he mouths the words, “Later, babe.” Brent takes me back to the school to retrieve my car.

  ****

  It’s now eight o’clock and I have returned to the Wilde Ride. I am sitting at the bar anxiously waiting. I feel someone brush along my side and sit on the stool next to me.

  “Hey Babe!”

  “My name’s Ella Scott, not babe,” I state, trying to glare at him.

  “Ryder Wilde. Told ya, I’d see you around.”

  That answers my earlier question. He does remember me. Yippee!

  “Ryder Wilde?” “Wilde, as in the Wilde Ride? Do you own this fine establishment?” I ask sarcastically.

  “Yes, Ryder Wilde and I do own this place,” he replies. “Wanna beer, beautiful?”

  “Does that line work on all the girls?” I ask.

  Really, this guy is a piece. Piece of what, I’m not entirely sure yet. Yes, he screams strong male ego, but could he pull off a conversation by saying more than five words at a time and not grunting?

  “You’d know if that was a line, sunshine,” Ryder drawls. His voice was a mixture of sex, passion, and testosterone.

  “You obviously aren’t used to the bar scene,” he adds.

  He is the star of my fantasies, all because of the sound of his voice. God, I’m a sucker, a sucker with no life.

  I eye him over the glass of draught he ordered for me. His muscled body is hidden (but not well) under a tight t-shirt and snug, worn dark wash jeans. Thinking back to the first time we ran into each other, I couldn’t help but remember how hard his body felt.

  This is the kind of guy that would push you against the wall in a fit of passion and have his dirty way with you, whenever, wherever and however he wanted. Oh God, I am in trouble.

  “What makes you think I don’t frequent bars? I’ll have you know, I was a regular at several bars in my hometown,” I counter.

  “Unfortunately, posh wine bars don’t count, princess.”

  “Is this all a ploy to make me get drunk out of spite so you can take advantage of me?” I really hope that is his ulterior motive. I’m not the most forward person in the world. While he may have me thinking about jumping his bones, I would never come right out and admit it without a buffer of alcohol involved.

  “Sorry sunshine, but when I have my way with you, and I will, there will be no alcohol involved. I want you to remember and savor every fuckin’ moment, ‘cause it will be the best damn time of your life. I can guarantee that.”

  “You cocky son of a bitch! If anyone has ever told you that whole act is charming, they were lying. I can’t believe I came back here to put up with this crap.” This guy must be a joke. I get the whole alpha male/biker personality thing, really I do (thanks to SOA and my beloved Kristen Ashley books), but Ryder is taking it to a whole new level.

  “Listen sweetie, I’m into you. I’ll even put up with a little priss, but you have to understand that this is me, and you ain’t gonna change that,” Ryder spits out just as three guys decked out in head-to-toe leather stroll into the bar. Honestly, someone needs to explain to these guys that there is such a thing as leather overkill.

  “You’ve got to be shittin’ me,” Ryder hisses.

  I didn’t really think much of the biker S&M crew making their way over to us. That would be my first mistake. My second would be not noticing how tense Ryder got as they approached. The third would be not listening fast enough to what Ryder was whispering to me.

  “Ella, I realize this isn’t a great time, but I need you to remain very calm and head towards the door behind the bar. It opens to the back offices and stock rooms. Lock the door behind you till I tell you it’s safe.”

  The third I blame on the fact that this chauvinistic pig of a man is doing the whispering, very much in my personal bubble. Sending shivers down my spine as I feel his hot breath on my ear and neck.

  What the hell did I get myself into? I could be having a night cap with a very nice, cute and safe Brent. But no, not me. Ella Scott never takes the easy road.

  A hairy, sweaty biker arm wraps around my shoulders and shakes me from my temporary daze. I think I even hear Ryder growl as he shoots me a look that can only be described as a hot, angry, biker bar owner, pissed that I didn’t listen fast enough.


  “Get your fuckin’ filthy hands off her now! She’s mine!” Ryder growls.

  Holy fuck what is going on? I tried to wiggle my way out of his arm but it keeps getting tighter with every move I make.

  “Well let’s see what we have here,” the scary, too-much-leather biker dude says.

  “Not gonna tell you again. You don’t fuck with what’s mine.”

  What is he talking about? What is his? I try to loosen his hold on me again with no luck. That son of a bitch has a tighter hold on me than a boa constrictor would have on its prey.

  “Umm, your sweet new pussy smells amazin’. Why don’t I show your little lady what a real man can do?” The scary, too-much-leather biker dude offers.

  Oh my God, Oh my God!

  “Please let me go,” I whimper.

  The next thing I know, I am being pulled back as a fist is going through the air and slamming right into scary, too-much-leather biker dude’s face.

  “I told you to let her go! Now get the fuck out of my bar!” Ryder yells.

  Another scary guy, with tattooed arms and a mess of dreadlocks for hair, grabs me and yanks me away from the current scary guy and is suddenly hauling me in the back. Oh my God, what is this guy going to do to me?

  “Help! Somebody help me!”

  “It’s okay. I’m not gonna hurt you. Ryder will be here in a minute,” the man says.

  “Um…Ok.”

  “I’m Axel, one of Ryder’s guys.” Whatever the hell that means. Then he walks out and locks the door behind him.

  “Oh my God, Oh my God,” I say, starting to have a panic attack.

  What am I going to do? I need to get out of here. There aren’t any windows. I look around and it is your typical office. In the right hand corner is a dirty old desk and chair covered with papers everywhere. And on the other side of the office is a black leather sofa. (Of course leather). I run to the couch and curl into a ball on it.

  BANG, BANG, BANG

  OH MY GOD!!!!!

  What the fuck is that? Did I hear gunshots?

  You can barely hear the yelling and the tussling from inside the office.

  That is when I start crying. I am scared; I have never been a part of anything like this. I look around for something I could use for protection if someone comes in. Something silver catches my eye, but it is hard to see with all the tears in them. I get up and walk over and I put my hand out and realize it is an aluminum bat.

  Perfect.

  I grip it tightly in my hands and hide behind the door. If anyone comes in, they will get something else before they get me!!! I slowly stop shaking and crying and am ready for a fight. I am a grown-ass woman. No man is going to scare me. Although, Ryder scares me in more ways than any man can scare a woman.

  I hear something jiggle the door handle. I move out a little and get the bat ready to swing. If someone comes in here, they won’t know what hit them.

  Hmm, I kind of like this, a lot.

  GI Jane. That is me.

  Don’t fuck with me or I will fuck with you.

  The door flies open and I can’t see from the tears, so I swing anyways.

  Oh shit, I bring up on something solid.

  “What the fuck woman?” That voice sounds familiar. It is the voice that haunted me every night for the last year.

  Ryder.

  “Oh my God! I’m so sorry! Are you ok? Holy shit, look at your face!”

  Ryder has a busted lip and a swollen eye.

  “I’m okay babe,” Ryder tries to assure me.

  “What was that? What is going on?” I ask. He looks in my eyes, trying to assess what I was feeling and thinking.

  “Are you ok?” he asks.

  “NO!” I cry. “What was that? What is going on? Did you tell them I was yours?”

  “Those guys are members of a rival club,” he replies.

  “Rival Club?”

  “My boys and I form the Mayhem Motorcycle Club. I’m the President. Hunter and his boys are members of The Devil’s Disciples and are messed up in some seriously bad shit. Let’s just say our relationship isn’t amicable. It’s a very hostile situation. They came in here tonight just to fuck with me, ‘cause they see me here with a sweet piece like you and know they will never have anything close to that,” he replies.

  Wow that was good, almost too good.

  “I am not yours,” I state.

  “Babe, you are at my place tonight,” he tells me.

  “No, sorry I’m not. I have my own place, thank you very much.”

  “Listen you are on radar for them now, and they really like to fuck people up. They will not be gentle with you. They will tear you apart!”

  Holy Shit!!! What is my life coming to?

  He starts moving me back from the door towards the couch while taking the bat out of my hand and leaning it up against the wall. He quietly chuckles and shakes his head while looking at the bat.

  “You are with me tonight. We will stop at your place and get your shit, then head to my place,” he informs me.

  “I will be fine. I’ll take this bat and return it to you when everything is cool.”

  “Are you fuckin’ joking?” he asks.

  “No. I want to stay at my apartment.”

  “Sorry babe, but you will be much safer at my place and I will do everything I can to keep you safe,” he pledges.

  “Why?” I wonder. I mean he barely knows me. This is only the second time we have been together. Why should he care if anything happens to me?

  “Cause a man like me should never have the chance at somethin’ sweet like you. You came into my world and I am not fuckin’ lettin’ you go. All I have been able to do since you walked into that pole and I held you until you were okay is think about the possibility of being able to have sweet you. Then you came back to me again. I am not lettin’ you get away from me this time. So I’ll do what I gotta do to keep you safe and see what comes out of this.”

  WOW. That is sweet, in a bad biker kind of way.

  Holy shit, I think I just creamed my panties. Yup, I did.

  “Come on lets go. We can leave your car here. I will get one of the boys to bring it to my place later.”

  “Um…okay?” I am not sure what to think. I mean I just met him. What would people think of me just meeting him and now going home with him for the night. Slut!!! That is what I would think of someone. Oh my God!! He grabs my hand and laces our fingers together and starts walking out to the bar where everyone was.

  “I don’t think I can do this,” I confess.

  “Do what?”

  “Leave here with a man that I just met.”

  “You didn’t just meet me. We met about a year ago, remember?” He has a valid point. Using only one word, he asks, “Keys?”

  I hand him my keys and he gives them to one of his boys. He grabs my arm and leads me towards the front entrance and takes me to the side of bar where a sleek, black Harley Davidson with lots of chrome detailing is parked.

  “Do you have a jacket, Ella?”

  “No, I didn’t need one this afternoon and I thought I would be driving home in my car, not on the back of a Harley.”

  With that, he tears off his leather jacket and puts it on me. It smells like a combination of leather, soap and mint. It’s an intoxicating smell. He then places a soft kiss on my lips. I swear I hear him groan.

  He reaches into the leather saddle bags on his bike and comes up with a helmet, which he places on my head and gives a soft tap to the top of my head. “Always, gotta protect what’s mine.” I think my heart stops beating when he says this.

  My hand goes to my chest, feeling the steady rhythm of my heart. Nope, it’s still going.

  I stare at the bike, shaking my head, saying, “There’s no way I can ride that thing. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m wearing a skirt.”

  “Oh, I fuckin’ noticed, babe.” He winks at me and then checks out my skirt. “No problem.”

  He helps me climb on to the Harley by liftin
g me by my waist, sitting me on the seat sideways. He then grabs the hem of my skirt and hikes it up my thighs until it’s resting at my hips and shifts one of my legs over the seat until I’m facing forward. Ryder smiles wide and then climbs up sitting in front of me.

  My thighs instinctively squeeze together with him in between them. When he revs the bike and starts the engine I feel the humming vibrations shoot up my body; I swear to God I think I have an orgasm. Between the feeling of him and the vibrations it is almost unbearable.

  I lean into Ryder and squeeze my arms around his waist. I am going to enjoy this ride. Combine the man between my legs, fresh air blowing in my face and the stars in the sky, it is one of the most amazing experiences I’ve ever had.

  Chapter 4

  Ryder’s House

  When we arrive at my apartment complex, Ryder helps me off of the bike and removes my helmet.

  “So, how was it?”

  “It was freaking awesome! I want my own Harley.” I feel like jumping up and down and squealing like a little girl, but I stop myself.

  “What would be the fun in that? Then I wouldn’t have your sexy little legs and arms wrapped around me and I wouldn’t hear your excited moans in my ear.” I can feel the heat from my body, rise up my neck into my face when he says this.

  He gently slaps my ass and tells me to hurry up and grab enough shit for a few days, anything else I need he can come back for it. I pack my so-called shit and head back outside in record time. I cannot believe the rush I was getting just being with Ryder. I could get used to this feeling.

  “Let’s get going, babe.”

  So we got going like the man said. Where we were headed to I had no clue, but I trusted him for some unknown reasons.

  ****

  We drive out of town limits, out on the highway. After about ten minutes Ryder turns onto a little gravel road and within minutes we arrive at a beautiful ranch style house surrounded by trees and a lake located at the rear of the house.

  When we stop and the engine is turned off, I ask “This is your place?”

  “Yeah, you like what you see?”

  I want to respond with “In more ways than one,” but just say, “It’s gorgeous out here, so quiet and peaceful.”