Tracker's End

by Chantal Fernando

  I shift on my feet, then admit, “I hope it works out, but we’re still getting to know each other, I guess.”

  What if we aren’t compatible sexually?

  He’s experienced, I’m not. I’ve been with two men, both once each. I’m so nervous about not matching up to his other sexual partners.

  Screw it, for what I lack in experience I’ll make up for in desire for him. I don’t think a woman has ever wanted him as much as I do, and I don’t just mean his body.

  “Lucky bastard,” Rake mutters, shaking his head. “I saw that look on your face.”

  I clear my throat. “Maybe I will have a soda after all.”

  Grinning, he wraps his arm around me and takes me to the kitchen, where I find Anna.

  “Lana!” she yells, smiling widely. “Holy shit, you look beautiful. I’m so fuckin’ happy you made it.”

  “I haven’t run scared . . . yet,” I tease, pulling her in for a quick hug. “Hey, Arrow.”

  “Lana,” he says, lifting his chin. “You look different.”

  Anna elbows him. “Real smooth, Arrow.”

  He shrugs and takes a sip from his beer, his other arm wrapping around her. She tugs playfully on his beard, then kisses his mouth.

  “Want to dance, Lana?” she asks, still looking at Arrow.

  “I’ll dance with her,” Rake says, handing me a cup.

  Anna looks at her brother. “Rake, I didn’t recognize you without a woman hanging from your arm.”

  “I have one,” he replies, nodding at me.

  “Where’s Tracker?” Anna asks, frowning.

  “Talking with Sin.”

  Arrow suddenly looks alert, his head lifting. “Everything all right?”

  Rake nods. “All good, brother.”

  Anna grabs my arm. “We’re dancing.”

  “Tracker said not to let her out of my sight,” Rake says. “So I’m coming.”

  “Then come,” Anna says. “Show us your moves, bro.”

  With Anna and me on each of his arms, Rake walks us to the game room, where the music is coming from. We dance to two songs before I find myself back in Tracker’s arms.

  “You’re a good dancer,” he whispers into my ear. “I’m ready to have you all to myself now.”

  “Aren’t you going to dance with me?” I say loudly so he can hear.

  “I am,” he replies, “Between the sheets.”

  I squeal as he picks me up and throws me over his shoulder just like he said he would. I ignore the whistles and catcalls as he takes me straight to his room, ignoring anyone who tries to talk to him. He turns on the lights and slams the door shut with a kick of his foot, closing us in. He then throws me on the bed, staring down at me like a hunter looking at his prey. I swallow hard as he pulls off his T-shirt, revealing his powerful body. My heart is in my chest as he unbuckles his belt, undoes his button and zipper, and lets his jeans fall to the ground. He kicks them away, then pulls down his boxer briefs, exposing himself to me fully. Looking down at me, he puffs out a breath and rubs the back of his head.

  “Fuck, maybe I should take a cold shower before I come to you,” he mutters. “I can’t remember the last time I went without sex for this long . . . and it’s you. I don’t wanna fuckin’ scare you.”

  “I can handle anything you want to give,” I say in a voice that doesn’t sound like my own.

  It sounds strong.

  Sultry.

  A woman who knows what she wants and is going to get it.

  I allow my gaze to lower to his cock, which is jutting out, strong and proud. I linger on the piercing, wondering what it was going to feel like.

  “Fuck,” he grits out. “With you looking at me like that . . .”

  Sliding to the end of the bed, I slide off my pumps and jewelry and then stand up. “Undress me,” I tell him in a soft command.

  Licking his lips, he reaches out and pulls my top off, staring at my white lace bra before undoing my jeans and sliding them off. When they don’t come off easily— they’re so damn tight—I giggle. He groans, “How did you get into these? Christ, Lana, they’re like a second skin.”

  “Are you complaining?” I ask breathlessly as he makes me lie back down on the bed so he can pull them off.

  “Right now I am,” he says, kissing my stomach after he finally gets them off, leaving me in my panties and bra.

  “Beautiful.”

  I shiver at the reverence in his tone.

  Kissing my belly button, he trails his mouth lower, kissing over my lace panties until he reaches my center. Then, with his thumbs, he pulls the scrap of cloth down, his face right in front of my pussy. Without hesitation, his mouth is on me, his tongue working magic, licking and sucking with purpose. I look down at his blond hair, threading my fingers through it and pulling. Lifting my hips, I silently beg for more, and he gives it to me, his tongue flicking on my clit.

  It hits me with no warning.

  My back arching, I grit my teeth to stop myself screaming as I come.

  He’s merciless with me, gripping my thighs to spread them farther, his whole face all over me.

  “Tracker,” I whimper as I come back to myself, the feeling getting too sensitive. He sits back on his knees and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

  “Perfect,” he rasps. “But next time I wanna hear you scream, Lana, don’t try to be quiet. I want to hear you.”

  “I’ve never come that hard,” I rasp.

  Tracker grins, a satisfied look on his face. “Baby, this is just the beginning.”

  Getting on the bed, he straddles me, a knee on each side of my hips, his cock resting on my stomach.

  “Are you okay?” he asks softly, sliding down the straps of my bra, then pulling down the cups. “Been greedy with you, haven’t I? I haven’t even tasted these yet, rushed straight to your sweet pussy.”

  I really didn’t mind.

  Lowering his head, he sucks a nipple into his mouth, then pulls back to taste the other. Plumping my breasts together, he licks the space between them. “Even better than I imagined.”

  “Tracker.” I sigh.

  “Are you on the pill?” he asks, reaching a hand down between us to position himself.

  “Yeah.”

  “I wanna fuck you raw,” he says kissing my lips. “Been tested while I was waiting for you. Let me have you, Lana.”

  Not thinking, just feeling, I nod. “Okay.”

  “Thank fuck,” he growls, sliding into me, slowly. I can tell he’s using all his restraint not to slide home in one thrust.

  “Tracker,” I whisper. “I can take it.”

  He slides the rest of the way, cursing. “You feel so good Lana. So fuckin’ worth the wait.”

  I lift my hips in time with his thrusts. I soon realize the extra sensations I can feel are because of his piercing, something which I plan to explore further. His mouth stays on mine, our lips never losing contact. I can tell that he’s a man who loves kissing, and I couldn’t be more thrilled. The way he kisses is perfect, so sensual and erotic, especially the way he slides his tongue over mine and nibbles on my bottom lip. When he starts kissing my neck, I feel my orgasm building.

  “Come with me, baby,” he whispers against my mouth, before returning to kissing me. Raising my arms over my head with our fingers threaded together, he pushes me into the mattress, taking what he needs and giving me the same in return.

  His thrusts become deeper, and faster, and I can’t help the moan that spills from my lips. Everything is so intense, including my physical and emotional response to him.

  “Lana,” he whispers, his mouth returning to mine, kissing me like this is the last time he’ll ever taste my lips.

  He waits for me to come a second time before he joins me, spurting his hot come inside me. Resting his forehead against mine, his eyes tightly closed, he vows, “I would do anything to protect you Lana, to protect this.”

  It was in this moment I lost my heart to him.

  I’m his, solely. />
  And I know, the depth of my love will be the depth of my pain if I lose him.

  TWELVE

  TIME to face reality.

  I’m going to have to do a walk of shame.

  Dressing in last night’s clothes—which don’t look so great this morning—with my red shoes in my hand, I kiss Tracker’s cheek before making my exit. When I smell bacon, I stop by the kitchen to investigate. Two women I don’t know are in there, making themselves at home. Not wanting to intrude, I walk by Anna’s room, almost choking when I hear her voice.

  “Put that baby maker inside me and fuck me, Arrow!”

  Baby maker?

  I can’t help it.

  I lose it.

  With my mouth covering my hand, I start cracking up.

  “Lana, is that you?” I hear her call out.

  I can’t speak over my laughing.

  Then I hear her laughing too.

  And Arrow growling.

  Still giggling, I walk outside and to my car. As I’m driving off, I see Allie being dropped off by a random man. I can’t really see him, but she’s wearing what are presumably last night’s clothes with her heels in her hands. She bends down to kiss him good-bye through the window. I feel relieved, happy to see her moving on. Even though I know Tracker wants nothing to do with her, it’s good to know she may be over him too. I don’t need or want that drama.

  Ignoring her, I look straight ahead and drive home. After making love to Tracker last night—and he can say what he wants but that was making love—I’m suddenly inspired to write the sex scenes of all sex scenes. Just thinking about him, about last night, makes me smile. Who would think a man in a biker club could be so damn sweet? Sure, he talks dirty, but I like that. No, I love that.

  Last night was . . . swoon. I can’t think of another word for it.

  We stayed in the room the whole night, getting to know each other’s bodies. I don’t know how he did it, but he made me feel comfortable, brought me out of my shell. I felt . . . beautiful. It was the way he looked at me, like it was me who was perfect. Not him, me. Nothing is off bounds with him. Nothing is judged.

  We just felt.

  He’s insatiable. An animal.

  A man in his finest form.

  And somehow . . . he’s mine.

  * * *

  “So,” I start. “Are you and Arrow trying to have a baby?”

  Anna’s eyes widen. “What makes you ask that?”

  I shrug nonchalantly. “It might have been the whole ‘put your baby maker’ line I heard the other day.”

  She covers her face with her hands. “Oh. Right. That. I knew that was you laughing!”

  I smirk. “I can’t remember the last time I laughed so hard.”

  Anna removes her hands and grins. “Yeah, we’re trying. Arrow is loving the trying.”

  “I can imagine,” I reply, picking up my coffee and taking a sip. “How come Allie’s never around anymore?”

  Anna nods. “I know, right? She doesn’t wanna see you with Tracker, I think. She comes by every few days; I think she’s found another man to terrorize.”

  I nod, sighing. “At least she’s not terrorizing me. She did mention something once though. Something about it’s not her Tracker wants, or me. Any idea what she was talking about?”

  She studies me for a few long seconds. “I may have heard something, but I have a feeling you’ll make it a bigger deal than it is.”

  “What?” I ask, sitting up straighter.

  She sighs. “When Faye came into the house, apparently—I say apparently because I wasn’t here so I don’t know the truth—but I heard Tracker had a thing for Faye. He wanted her, obviously he couldn’t have her, so he hooked up with Allie instead.”

  “He wanted Faye?” I ask in a broken whisper. Faye? That freaking supermodel of a woman?

  Great, just great. I can’t stop the hurt that slowly fills my body.

  “Lana,” Anna growls. “Number one, this was years ago. They’re just friends now. And Tracker is crazy about you. Arrow said he hasn’t seen him pay this much attention to a woman in . . . forever.”

  When I stay silent, she continues. “Look, I’ll be the first to admit I actually warned Tracker away from you a few times. I thought it was a bad idea. He’s . . . him, and I didn’t want to see you get hurt. But, and I can’t believe I’m going to say this, I was wrong. He’s so good to you. I haven’t seen him even look at another woman, and you’re happy, I can see it. I know you’re also unsure, and scared of getting hurt, but I think the two of you have something great going. If you think you can handle him and his lifestyle, I think he will make you a happy and lucky woman.”

  “You’re right,” I admit. “If it’s in the past then . . . as long as he’s not secretly pining away for her.”

  Anna laughs. “No. They’re friends, just like he and I are.”

  Then why did Allie try and throw it in my face? Or maybe it was her issue, considering she was his second choice. Pushing it to the back of my mind, I change the topic.

  “There’s something I have to tell you. I didn’t really need the nannying job. I took it because I needed something different in my life, a change, and because I knew Faye needed the help.”

  I want to tell Anna everything. I don’t want to keep everything inside anymore, I want to try and be open, and there’s no one I trust more than Anna, besides my mom.

  “I’m glad you took it. Faye can’t stop raving about how amazing you are with Clover,” Anna says. “But if you don’t need the job, just give Faye a little warning so she can find someone new. She’ll have to find someone else when you go back to school anyway.”

  She’s missing the point here.

  “Yeah, I know, but what I’m trying to tell you is—”

  “Lana!” Tracker calls out from the front door.

  “In here!” I call back, turning to Anna with an apologetic glance. “This conversation is to be continued.”

  She nods, grinning slyly. “I thought he was working all day.”

  “Me too.”

  He walks into the living room, gaze searching for me. His eyes brighten when they land on me. “Want to come for a ride?”

  “Clover?”

  He looks to Anna. “Can you watch Clover for the rest of the day?”

  Anna nods. “Sure. When she wakes up I can take her to the zoo with me.”

  Tracker grins. “Thanks, Anna. Lana, get your shoes on.”

  I get ready, then follow him outside. As he puts his helmet on me, I ask, “Where are we going?”

  “I have to get back to work.”

  “Oh. Then why am I coming?” I ask, frowning.

  “ ’Cause I missed you, and I want you there with me,” he says, kissing me.

  “Oh.”

  “Yes, oh,” he replies with a chuckle.

  “Well, let’s go then,” I say, smiling shyly.

  Another kiss, this one longer, and then we’re off.

  I keep thinking about my conversation with Anna and realize she’s right. I need to judge Tracker on who he is now, who he is for me, rather than who he was or what he could do. I need to put the past behind me and take a chance.

  * * *

  Standing outside of Toxic, a strip club, I scowl. “This isn’t what I had in mind when I said I’d spend the day with you Tracker.”

  He grins and cups my chin. “Just a stopover, sheathe those claws.”

  Pursing my lips, I let him lead me inside. The place is what you’d imagine a strip club to be, except there are no girls dancing.

  “Is it closed?” I ask, as we head to the bar where a man is cleaning glasses.

  “Yeah, it opens in an hour or two,” Tracker says, smirking down at me. “Why? Disappointed?”

  I shrug. “I’ve never been to a strip club before. I might as well get the full experience.”

  I can almost feel a new plot coming on.

  “I’ll bring you back another time then,” he murmurs, shaking his head in amusement
. “You never react how I expect you to.”

  “I don’t like the idea of you coming here,” I admit.

  “Why?” he asks. “None of the women here have shit on you.”

  I blush. “Tracker—”

  He brings his lips to my ear. “You’re the most beautiful woman in the world to me. And my opinion is the only one that fuckin’ matters, baby.”

  I look directly into his eyes and see that he believes what he says.

  “You’re not going to stop until you own every inch of me, are you?” I whisper.

  “I’m not going to stop until you want me to,” he replies, kissing my forehead. “I need you to need me as much as I want you.”

  I’m already there.

  “Sit here for a sec, all right? I gotta go out back and handle something. Anyone comes near you, tell them you’re mine and they’ll back off if they have any brains.”

  I nod and sit down. No one is around anyway.

  “You want me to get you a drink?”

  “A soda would be good.”

  He heads over to the bar and gets a can of soda for me. Placing it down, he kisses my temple, then disappears behind one of the backroom doors. Opening the drink, I take a sip and look around the club. There are a few different stages and podiums, and I wonder what it looks like when everything is in full swing. The door opens, and two pretty women walk in.

  “I saw his bike out there,” one says. “Do I look okay?”

  The other nods. “As always.”

  One sees me and gives me an odd look. “Are you a new dancer?”

  I see her giving me a once-over, as if I were competition, then smiling when she finds me lacking. “You don’t look like the usual dancers they hire here.”

  “That’s because I’m not one,” I reply, pushing my glasses up on my face.

  “Oh. Are you a cleaner here or something then?” one, the blonde, asks seriously.

  I grit my teeth. “No.”

  Not that there’s anything wrong with being a cleaner, but why was that her first assumption?

  Tracker walks out in that moment, his eyes widening as he sees me cornered by these two women. Eyes on me, he comes straight over to me. “You okay?”

  “Tracker!” The blonde beams. “I knew it was your bike I saw.”