Hearts on Fire: A Biker Erotic Romance

by Kristin Fletcher

  They lay together for nearly thirty minutes. He stared at something between the bed and the ceiling and she studied his face. Then, she slid her hand down past his abs and took hold of his semi-flaccid cock. She lovingly stroked it back to life. His full arousal came surprisingly quick. By the astonished look in his eyes, it surprised him, as well.

  "My turn," she told him. Then, she lowered herself and took him in her mouth.

  "Seriously?" he moaned.

  "Hmm," she purred.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Manny Decker, a full member of the Fire Devils Motorcycle Club, woke to sunlight filling his bedroom. It was later than the normal time he woke up. Even on hard party nights, he was usually up and out of the house by now. Checking the time on his radio clock, he discovered that it was after nine o'clock. Normally, the filly he brought home the night would be out of the house and he’d be well into his day.

  He didn't feel like moving Annie anywhere.

  "Annie," he murmured, as he tried her name out with the new day. Sometimes, he couldn't even recall the name of the woman he brought home the night before. Yeah, it was rude and callous, but it was true. He never promised them anything, but a good time. He always made good on that promise. A new day was a new day. Time to experience new things, new ways, and a new woman.

  So, why was Annie still sleeping peacefully in his bed? Why was he still lying in bed with her and not heading for the shower?

  On the surface, those appeared to be simple questions. Manny shied away from them. He felt something deep and profound hovering there. He wasn't all that comfortable with the deep or the profound.

  She was beautiful, he mused. He let his eyes enjoy her red hair, smooth skin, and perfect curves. He had invited beautiful to his bed before though. Plenty of beautiful. Alright, maybe not quite this beautiful, but close, real close. Annie wasn't here based solely on her looks.

  Last night was good, too. As he thought about last night, his hips jerked slightly with a memory-spasm of climax.

  The jerk gripped his attention. It put things into perspective. So alright, no denial, it was good. Very good. Amazing even. Maybe he was letting her sleep a little longer for the ride she gave.

  Even before that thought was complete, he knew it wasn't the answer. He was suddenly very certain that if he chose to make light of it, he was going to regret it. Regret it for longer than he had years.

  This was a crossroads. The type of crossroads that people sung songs about; usually, sad songs. It was one of those moments where playing it cool was only going to bring serious pain.

  Shit.

  Nine o'clock turned into nine-thirty, as he lay next to Annie. He still didn't want to move away from her. He didn't know what to do once he was out of bed. Normally, he drove the woman out into the day. Then, he carried on with his.

  Should he take her to breakfast?

  Did she have a kid to get home to?

  No, no kid.

  He went through what he knew about Annie from talking to her last night. She owned a print shop up on University Avenue. Annie's Printing. He knew the place, it wasn't far from here.

  Her brother, couldn't recall the name, was living with her. Brad? Tad? Chad? That was it -- her brother's name was Chad. She didn't talk much about him. There was some sort of trouble there, but she didn't want to bring it into their conversation.

  Also, her dad was living with her. Again, she didn't go into details there, either. There was something more than just trouble in her eyes when she mentioned her dad. He remembered her shutting down hard when he tried to get her to talk about it. It was something serious. Manny was certain of that.

  As his mind brought up the bits and pieces from last night, he came up with the picture of a woman dealing with some serious problems in her life. A woman who escaped for an evening to get away from them. She would be back to real life this morning. Serious life. Probably even hard life.

  Manny wasn't into having a hard life. Not at all. Serious was for other people, too. Manny worked hard and played hard. Everything else was someone else's business.

  It wasn't that he was unreliable. He was reliable, dead certain reliable. If a brother in the Fire Devils called, he didn't hesitate to come running. When he took on a responsibility, he took it on completely. Which was exactly why he didn't do that very often. He liked his life. Hell, he loved his life. If something was going to impede on his lifestyle, it was going to have to be something very important to him.

  His eyes drifted back to Annie with her red hair, light skin, and perfect curves. She was sleeping soundly, but she had hard life to wake to.

  Was she very important?

  Before he could approach that terrifying ledge, Annie's eyes opened.

  She looked around, a bit confused for a moment. Then, her eyes locked on him. She blinked. He was about to give her a smile, before she said, "Shit."

  Annie bolted out of the bed, like she had been electrocuted in the ass. It was so fast and so sudden. Manny was still reeling on the terrifying ledge of commitment. He wasn't able to react right away. Annie snatched up her panties and blue jeans. She hurried from the bedroom before he could roll out of bed to follow.

  "Hey!" he said, as he attempted to grab her attention. She moved her long legs and perfect ass down the hall. She was gaining speed, too.

  Manny tumbled out of bed and snatched up his own jeans. With desperation, he shoved his legs into his jeans, as he tried to chase after her. By the time he reached the dining room, he found her by the front door. Her jeans were already on and she was shrugging into her blouse like the house was on fire.

  "Hey," he tried again. "What's the rush? I thought I would take you to breakfast?"

  She looked at him with shocked eyes. Then, she laughed. It wasn't a humorous laugh, either. It was like she was shocked by the obscurity of what he said. It was as if he said something so bizarre, it was disturbing.

  Finished with the blouse, she forced on her shoes. She still held her bra in her hand. "Look big guy," she said, as that laugh still churned in her throat, "we're both adults. We both know it was Friday night and it was good. Really good. It was fucking amazing. It's Saturday morning, now. Time to wake up to reality. Fantasy Friday is over. I’ve got to go. As much as I would like Friday night to keep going, I have a life to get back to. Real life."

  She had her heels on now. She looked around. Manny was about to tell to brush off her real life. An inexplicable anger rolled up inside him. It wasn’t something he was used to feeling. Suddenly, she commanded, "Purse!"

  The command in her voice compelled him to look around the room in response. Then, his gaze locked on her purse, as it sat next to the over-stuffed chair. She saw his attention focus and shifted to follow his gaze. Seeing the purse, she snatched it up. Then, she was out the door.

  "Wait a minute!" Manny grumbled, as he took off after her.

  Manny got outside in time to see her open the driver's door of her car. She chucked her purse inside to the passenger seat. "Annie!"

  She stopped and turned. Confusion crossed her face, "What!"

  Her stance was defiant, nearly aggressive; but, her eyes were large, open, and something else. Imploring?

  Manny froze. Here it was. The moment. His whole body was caught somewhere between paralysis and adrenaline. He knew what to say. He was good with words and people. Always had been. He spent his whole life having a good time, for the most part. He spread cheer to the people around him. Not that there weren't hard times, too; but, even then, his personality lightened the load. He faced hard times like he faced good times – with his head on, arms open, and a smile on his face.

  It was just a word that she needed to hear right now. A single word and he knew what it was. Her eyes told him she would believe him, too. She wanted to believe him. In fact, she was desperate to believe him. If he would just say it, she would do the rest. They could go back in the house, talk, and probably spend a few more blissful hours in the bedroom. From there they would work it ou
t, together. Just say the word.

  Manny hesitated. His throat felt caught in a vice. Commitment rushed up at him.

  "Right," she said. Her voice was calm. The type of calm that comes with disappointment. She got in her car.

  The engine started and snapped Manny out of his paralysis. He started moving forward on stiff legs, as her car backed out of his drive. Painfully, he watched as her car shifted forward and accelerated down the street.

  "Please," Manny breathed belatedly. Her car turned the corner and Annie was gone. It was too late, but that didn't keep his heart from riding right off that ledge. Only now there was nothing after, just emptiness.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Annie's tears started before she reached the first corner. After the turn, she wiped her eyes and checked her mirror. What was she looking for? Did she think he would follow her?

  Did she want him to?

  Part of her wanted him to follow. Wanted him to run her down and keep her from leaving. Claim her. He wasn't going to do that. She wiped her tears and pressed down on the accelerator.

  The tears were from anger more than anything else. She wasn't angry that she slept with him. True, she had a few drinks last night, but she knew what she was doing. She wanted to sleep with him. He was big, handsome, and made her laugh. He was a good time and she really needed a good time. Until she was in his arms, she didn't realize just how much she needed a good time.

  And it was good, too. Really good. He probably took it as a brush off, but she wasn't lying when she said it was fucking amazing. She was fully fondled, used, and satisfied right now. There wasn't a place on her body that didn't feel the blissful effects from the climaxes. The memory of their night nearly kept her in bed with him.

  Nearly.

  No, she wasn't angry about sleeping with him. She was angry for believing the lie. She was pissed off that she bought into it. She had broken down and trusted him. She bought into the fantasy of last night. Not the sex, the claim.

  It wasn't Manny's fault. He never promised anything. He wouldn't even know what she was talking about. All he did was put his hand on her thigh. He just picked her up and carried her to his room. He just wrapped his arms around her. That's all. She did all rest to herself.

  But, dear God, that felt good, too. Fuck!

  It was good. It was better than the sex. The sex was phenomenal, too.

  It hurt more than she could bear, right now. She woke up next to him and knew she made it all up. It was a total self-induced fantasy. A delusion. It wasn't real and it never would be. Ever.

  Still, its absence left a hole in her chest. She felt so empty it was hard to breathe. When he held her last night and claimed her, she found something she never thought she wanted or needed. For those few hours, she belonged to him. She never belonged anywhere. She certainly never belonged to anyone.

  Annie carried her own weight and the weight of others, too. She stood on her own feet and fought her own battles. She paid her own way and faced her own failures.

  Alone.

  Last night, she wasn't just having sex with him. She belonged to him. He was with her, completely. Wrapped around her. The idea of alone didn't exist. It wasn't even a theoretical concept.

  Fuck! What type of fucked-up bitch am I?

  Again, it wasn't Manny's fault. If, somehow, she could articulate how she felt when he held her, he would either blanch white or die laughing. He was a fucking biker. He was out on a Friday night, looking for pussy for Christ's sake! She knew that.

  He was exactly what the doctor ordered. No harm, no foul. She should thank the big guy for knowing how to fuck a woman silly because she definitely needed it.

  She put her hand on her lower abs. The blissful soreness still lingered. "God. That man can fuck!" she hissed with a smile. Then, she wiped her tears again.

  If she hadn’t fucked it up, she could have given him her number. Then, she may have rolled with him once in a while. Just for fun and release. She knew he wasn't going to throw in his chips with her, not with the shit she had going on her life. No sane man would. He was definitely worth a booty call.

  She fucked that all up though. She bought into the lie. There was no way she could let him hold her again and not feel this hole in her chest. Fuck, it hurt!

  She made it a few blocks from her house before she pulled into the parking lot of a gas station. She parked the car, cut the engine, and broke down into a sobbing fit for nearly fifteen minutes. The overwhelming feeling of being alone consumed her.

  After the bliss of her delusion, feeling alone was a raw and jagged. For several minutes, she was convinced that it was too much and that she wasn't going to make it. There was no way she could be in this much pain and not die.

  She didn't die though, much to her dismay.

  How could it have been so real?

  She had no answer for that one. It wasn't like she ever thought about it before. Nothing in her past experience, real or fantasy, even came close. In fact, if a man had ever told her that she belonged to him, she would have punched him right in the nose. Then, she would have gone for his balls with something sharp. The fuck if she belonged to him or anyone else.

  So, what the fuck?

  The sobbing fit passed, but the hole remained. She felt as empty and bleak as before. "This is really going to hurt, you silly bitch," she told herself as she looked in the mirror to find herself appearing abused. "I’ve got to clean up," she sighed. "Rosie's going to think some guy beat me last night."

  Annie not only believed she belonged to Manny, but she wanted to belong to him. It was as confusing as it was hurtful. She would have given him anything last night, performed any sexual pleasure -- if there were any she didn't already perform. She would have done it all twice, if he told her, out loud, that she belonged to him.

  So, again, what the fuck?

  The look in his eyes when she backed out of his driveway haunted her. She hurt him. He wanted to say something then. Something important. Something she probably should have listened to. After the way he treated her last night, she probably should have listened.

  His eyes...God. His eyes.

  What was that in his eyes? Fear? Need? When her mind brought up the right word she shuddered. Despair.

  Shit, what have I done?

  She knew about despair. She was in it right now. He couldn't have fallen for her though, right? It was just a Friday night. He was just looking for some pussy! He wasn't a kid for crying out loud!

  She could not forget his eyes, as he stood on his front lawn. He wanted to say something to her. He wanted to say it more than anything. But he didn't move or speak. And she couldn't bear to look at him any longer. She needed what he never offered her.

  "It wasn't real!" she wailed, as she pounded her hands against the steering wheel. "It wasn't real," she whimpered. Then, the sobbing returned.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Sunday, late morning, Manny pulled his softail framed Harley-Davidson up to the front of Eagle's Roost tavern. He cut the engine. He sat on the bike, as he listened to the engine tick as it cooled. He was trying to gather himself.

  It was all wrong. All backwards and upside-down. Annie was right. It was just a Friday night. He went out looking for pussy, found some pussy, and had the pussy. Then, it was Saturday morning. Time for new pussy. It had been that way for a long time. Years in fact.

  He didn't want new pussy though.

  Getting off the bike, he walked into the tavern and looked around. He didn't see anyone he recognized, except Eric behind the bar. This was a good thing. He didn't really come here to socialize, he came to drink. And by drink, he meant sit at the bar, glass in hand, and get into some serious sulking.

  He looked longingly into the spiced rum in his hand. He wished it really did ease pain or contain answers. Either would be worth any amount of money, right now.

  It was now Sunday morning, just after ten o'clock. More than a day passed since he hesitated and lost Annie. He didn't have her number or know where she
lived. He doubted he would ever find her in that bar again; but, he was going to try. Every Friday night he was going to be there. Maybe she would show up. From what she said though, that was the first time in more than a year. It was her first time out to escape her real life.

  It crossed his mind to stop by her print shop, but that kind of thing wasn’t good. They wouldn’t have alone time. She would be instantly defensive. He wasn’t looking for a scene. He wanted her back, not a restraining order keeping him away.

  He went out last night with some of the guys to a new place down on the beach. He shot pool, drank beer, and tried to smile. Tried to laugh it off. It was just really good pussy, that's all. Hell, he was a grown man. He didn't get laid and then fall in love because of it. Shit!