by Nicole Fox
Her hand had never been able to wrap all the way around me, even when I was a teen and still growing. Her hand still couldn’t wrap all the way around me, even as her thin little fingers squeezed and stroked me like it was her tight little pussy around me. I bucked into her hand, balls tight and my slit aching.
I needed to fuck her, now! It’d been too damn long.
I put my face in her neck, and bit her. She’d mark up just like her tits, and I kind of liked that. No, I definitely liked that. Misha was mine. She’d never been Holland’s, sure as fuck had never been Rigger’s either. I held her to the wall and jerked her pants down as far as they would go.
“C-condoms, Trip?”
Honestly, I could have forgotten them with her. I growled again, being hasty when I reached into my pocket. I was always prepared, truth be told, and ripped into the foil of the condom that I had and slid it on my dick before I slid inside of her.
We groaned in unison. She was tight as I remembered and hot, too, so fucking warm I could have cum then and there if I hadn’t wanted to see her cum herself. But I did, and didn’t waste time holding her by her thighs and driving into her like she was mine again.
“Trip, Trip!”
I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t. I just fucked her harder until she couldn’t say my name anymore and it was just her hollering and making an echo in the alley way. Mine, mine, mine; every thrust I gave made sure of that. The bruises that I’d leave on her thighs? She’d feel them every time she walked, too. I’d have my own battle scars, with the way her nails dug so hard into my back. I could feel them through my kutte and it only made me fuck her harder.
I shoved my hand between us, touching and rubbing on that pretty swollen clit of hers as I felt her get tighter around me. She always came quick when it was like this—nasty, exhibitionist. I think she liked the idea of getting caught with me inside her as much as I did.
“Harder, harder. Trip, please!”
I obliged her, driving in until I was sure it hurt. I hurt, aching in my legs and my back and my cock and balls, but it was worth it if I got to have my Misha again like this.
“Fuck … Fuck Trip, I’m close-!”
She didn’t even need to say it, didn’t need to warn me. I felt her convulse around me right before her sweet pussy flooded around my cock. She cried out, arching against me, and clung to me hard. One pump, then another, and I was cumming fast behind her. I wished I could fill her hot like I used to, let the cum run out of her like I’d marked her.
Another time.
I held her against the wall like that, rocking my cock in her as I spent myself until I was done. I didn’t pull out though. I wasn’t ready for that just yet. I liked being snug in her. We panted together, and I rested my forehead against hers.
All too soon, the glow was over.
“You have to let me down, Trip,” she said softly. “We need to be getting back.”
Right.
This had just been quick fun.
I didn’t want to leave just yet though. As she tried to slide away from me, I leaned forward and kissed her. It was one of those deep, sweet kinds—the kind you give the woman you love, rather than the bitch you just fucked. She almost melted into it, but I was forced away when her fists pushed against my chest.
“I said we need to go, Trip. I’m done. You’ve made up.”
I couldn’t say I wasn’t bothered by it, but I couldn’t let her know I was. I scoffed and pulled away. I let her fall to her feet where she wobbled as I slipped the condom off and tossed it aside.
“Gee, thanks, Trip.”
“You look like you’re walking just fine,” I said lightly.
I watched her as she walked away before me, swaying a little but noticeably pissed off.
I supposed that’s what I got for thinking I’d win her back with my cock, in the middle of an alley.
I supposed that’s what I got for thinking and wanting at all.
Chapter Six
Misha
“It looks here like you don’t have any prior food industry experience.”
“No, ma’am, I don’t.”
“Yet you wanna try a diner as your first proper job?”
“I’m a fast learner, ma’am, and I really need the money—”
“You and every other tart-lipped, big-tittied sugar lump in this town, honey. You gotta give me more than that to go off to hire you.”
“I have references.”
The plump, middle-aged woman across from me laughed as she looked down at the abysmal résumé that I had compiled for her.
“Yes, I see that. Trixie. Child, that girl is about as bright as a box of bricks. You know that, don’t cha?”
“I’m more than willing to prove that I’m not a lost cause.”
I sat in the office of Lancaster’s, the little diner just off the highway and the place I was trying to get a job. I’d been poring over potential places in town, but with no real work experience I kept coming up bust. It had been, shockingly enough, Trixie who had seen me one day, pouring my heart out on paper applications, and told me that her job was hiring.
I was beginning to wonder if that, however, was about to prove a fruitless endeavor.
“Please, ma’am,” I said. “I really need this job.”
The woman shook her head.
“Like I said, you and every other tart-lipped little piece in town. But I’ll tell you what. You run around with them Pride boys, don’t cha? You know the big boy, Trip?”
I raised my brow.
“I might …”
“Oh, sugar plum, don’t get cute. The Pride boys are good boys around here, kept off Jackal trouble when them mean asses kept comin’ ’round, starting trouble. They tried some funny mess with my little niece, and it was the Pride—that boy Trip—set ’em right. It’s him what kept them out of here the last few years—”
“That was Trip?” The story sounded familiar. I remembered a few years back, one of Holland’s boys had gotten in deep with a girl from here, only come to find out that she wanted none of it, and he’d been using her to ferry in girls for trade. It was a nasty business, but after he got busted was when Holland decided to pull back from town and stay with operations over the border. I hadn’t known that was Trip—
“Yeah, girl, that was Trip. Don’t you know nothin’? Anyway. I’d hate to turn down one of his girls after what he did. So, say you’re on preliminary for a month before I decide to keep you on.”
“You’re hiring me?!”
“Girl, don’t you listen? I said preliminary. Come in seven sharp in the morn’ and I’ll start you on training. Don’t disappoint me.”
I was ecstatic. So much so, I jumped up from my seat and hugged the woman across from me. She patted me on the back, obviously a little amused by my display of unplanned affection.
“Alright, all right, girl. Go on, git. Seven sharp. Bring your brains with you, Lord knows Trixie ain’t got much, though she does bring in business in the men and such. Also—you gon’ stay here, don’t call me ma’am. It’s Big Mama, missy. You best be remembering that. Ya hear?”
“I hear, ma—Big Mama. Again, thank you!”
What had been a turmoil in my head was now a relief so deeply set in that I didn’t know what I was going to do with myself. So, I did the next best thing –
I called up Trixie.
I had gotten her number from Travis. Turns out he had a bit of a soft spot on her, but hadn’t stepped into anything because she was a club girl and he was afraid that she was always going to be a club girl. I’d convinced him that if I managed to get a job with her, then he would have to buck up and ask her on a proper date—for me.
That was going to be negotiated the next time I saw him. I fished out a couple of quarters I wouldn’t need for the taxi ride back to Ace of Pride, and slotted them in the diner’s payphone. It was two rings before Trixie answered.
“Big Mama, it’s my day off. You said you wouldn’t be calling me in anymore—”
>
“Trixie? It’s not Big Mama. It’s me, Misha.”
“Oh! Mi-mi, hey! What are you doin,’ calling from work?”
“My interview was today,” I reminded her.
“Oh! It was, wasn’t it? How’d it go? I hope Big Mama wasn’t too mean to you.”
I laughed.
“Don’t worry, she wasn’t. She hired me!”
“No way!”
“Yeah. It’s preliminary, so I can train, but it’s a guaranteed month and I’m sure I’ll be able to pull through enough that she’ll keep me on longer than that.”
“Ah, hell, that’s awesome, Mi-mi.” She gasped. “We gotta celebrate!”
“That’s what I was thinking. Wanna meet me out at the diner? We can get dinner, on me.”
“You betcha. Though, let’s not eat at the diner. That old woman will have me stay a whole shift! Be right over. Oooh, we’re gonna be coworkers, I’m so excited!”
Trixie’s squeals left me, and I couldn’t help but smile. People could say what they wanted about her being dumb as a sack of flour; I liked her—even if I did get the odd look here and there for it.
I waited out front for Trixie to show up, and she didn’t disappoint when she pulled up in her hot pink bug. She’d apparently saved up for that baby, and it was her pride and joy as much as any of the bikes belonging to the boys of the Pride were. She hopped out, waving at me, wearing a hot pink dress that damn near matched.
Well, no one could say that she didn’t know how to turn people’s heads, that was for sure.
I bounded over to her and hopped on in. She sped off as soon as I was buckled up, and immediately started talking my head off.
“I can’t believe that we’re gonna be coworkers,” she chirped excitedly. “This is. So. Cool. We’re gonna have to tell the boys, too. Big celebration and everything—”
“Woah, woah,” I said, laughing. “Slow down there. I don’t need a huge celebration!”
Trixie practically screeched.
“Of course, you do! This is, like, huge girl. Huge. I’m sure Trip would put out for you.” She nodded. “Yep, I know he would.”
I chuckled a little at that, but didn’t say anything—honestly? She was right. But … I also didn’t want to get into a conversation about Trip.
“Uh oh.”
I looked over to Trixie.
“Uh oh?”
“Uh oh. You have that look on your face, girl.”
I frowned.
“What look?”
“The ‘boys are dumb’ look. Come on, girl. You know I get around. I know that look. Do I need to kick Trip’s ass?”
At that, I laughed.
“Definitely … Definitely don’t kick Trip’s ass. Please.”
“Mmm, well if he’s gone and made you all sad and stuff, I will. He’s a hard-headed butthole sometimes, but you just got back! Come on. Tell a girl what he did!”
I shook my head. Where did I even begin on this?! I’d avoided talking about the little incident at the diner after it happened. Throwing myself into getting a job had helped, and Trip was busy with club affairs and hadn’t pushed for that again, thankfully.
I laughed a little again, if only to placate Trixie and her curiosities; I didn’t want to talk about what had happened, or about how it had made me feel—which was another thing that I was wholly, vehemently avoiding. Like the plague. Instead, I shook my head. Trixie and I didn’t talk much about Trip and me, and I figured that the good thing to do was keep it that way.
Best way to do that?
Deflect.
“Trixie?” I asked.
“Yeeah?”
“You and Trip. You’ve been together, haven’t you?”
“Mhm.” I was happy to see she didn’t seem faze in the slightest over the conversation topic change.
“And it doesn’t … This isn’t weird for you?” Admittedly, it’d been a little weird for me, even with Trip’s steadfast assertions that he and Trixie weren’t sleeping together anymore.
“Girl, why would it be weird? Trip’s been all up in a bunch of other girls—no offense,” she said, looking over at me apologetically.
“No need to be sorry.”
“Whew. Anyhoo. Listen. I know what I am, okay? I don’t have any delusions. Trip’s nice and all, but girl, I knew that wasn’t going anywhere! You being his old lady and all, and you got his girl—”
“I’m not really his old lady,” I interjected. “I’m not really his anything.”
“Girl,” Trixie said, rolling her eyes. “Anyone a mile away can see that’s bullshit. Besides …” She trailed off, rolling her lip between her teeth. “I was actually kinda afraid you weren’t gonna like me. I don’t pretend like I don’t know what most old ladies think about club girls, you know. It would have been okay if that was what you thought, but I’m glad you don’t. Besides, I don’t sleep with boys with attachments. It gets too complicated, and I just want to have fun while I’m young enough for it to matter!”
She beamed at me with a smile, and I couldn’t think of even a second where I could honestly have disliked her. I patted her hand as we came to a stop at a light, just across the road from Lancaster’s.
“Trust me when I say I understand the rap is generally unwarranted,” I told her. “Besides … You were there for Trip when I left. Even if it was just sex. It was something. It was obviously something that he needed.”
She looked like she was going to cry, and that beaming smile widened.
“I’m so glad we’re friends, Mi-mi.”
Chapter Seven
Trip
Misha started a job at the diner, and spoke not a lick about what had happened when I’d taken her out. I supposed it was for the best. It had made me start to feel things that I knew I shouldn’t let myself feel. Things that would have me second guessing duty and club business.
So, while Misha threw herself into work, I did the same.
The Jackals hadn’t killed Misha, but they had taken her. Another club president had taken her and kept her and her daughter hostage. She hadn’t been a member of the club, but she’d been my girl. That was a grievance that I couldn’t allow to stand. Problem was, I was facing walls.
“I don’t think we should go through with this. Not yet.”
We were in my office—me, Brig, Travis, and the other boys I kept up high. We had a few ears to the ground over the border, a few ears that’d informed me that the Jackals were planning on moving some product through the area. Usually, we wouldn’t touch drugs. I’d cleaned that shit out of here and made sure Jackals didn’t run that through our town. However, interrupting Jackal business meant fucking up their revenue, and they were breaking rules by running it through our town, anyway.
Don’t bring the drugs over or through. They didn’t respect that, so I didn’t respect them.
Brig had a problem with it, for some dumb shit reason or another.
“We’ve done this before. They wanna run some shit they know better about through here. We toss it all off a cliff or something. I’m not saying peddle it here or something.”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea to meddle with them in general, until we’re certain that things won’t go too south. There’s circumstances,” he said pointedly.
“Circumstances?” I knew where this was going.
“Misha—”
“Why the fuck is it always about Misha?” I asked.
“Because there’s gonna be retaliation when they figure out where she went, and poking them is gonna send us into some bad territory, Trip.”
“You know,” Travis spoke up. “Brigs is probably right.” He held up his hand to stay my anger. “Let me finish, boss. That being said, even if they try something because they were dumb and let Misha slip out, we can’t let the slight against one of ours stand. And it’s not like we can afford to have them running drugs into town, either. We all know what dope problems do. It’s why Bobby’s gone and Boss Man here is where he is so young.”
Heads were hung solemnly, and I looked over to Brig.
“We’re gonna disrupt that run,” I said. “And then we’re gonna keep doing what we’ve been doing to show those Jackals that the Pride doesn’t stand for bullshit. Holland was already having trouble keeping up with all the interruption in business; Rigger’s an asshole, but he damn sure ain’t as smart as Holland was. Anyone that’s got a problem with that is free to not be here anymore.”
Brig looked like he could have hit me. It wouldn’t have been the first time; we were best friends, but that didn’t mean we didn’t scrap from time to time. I saw the twitch in his jaw, but he didn’t do anything.