by Tia Siren
Rebecca sat in the bath until the water was lukewarm, and then she stayed a bit longer until it was downright chilly. Finally, she climbed from the tub and dried off before heading to bed. As she drifted off to sleep, she thought about Hull, and she wondered if she would see him.
2
Rebecca didn’t have to wonder if she would see the first man she had ever loved for long. The next day she was working on Weasel’s bike. Weasel was a Hammer, a big bear of a man with a wiry white beard and long hair he kept in a simply ponytail. He was in his sixties, and he looked the part of grizzled biker. But he was a friendly guy, with a booming laugh and a warm smile, and he was one of the few Hammers who hadn’t given Rebecca shit since breaking things off with Jason.
The big man had brought his bike over in the back of a beat up pickup truck in the morning, and then he’d spent an hour or so bullshitting with Rebecca in the garage before he left. She had promised him his bike would be ready by six, and then she had gotten to work.
Just after noon, she realized she would need a couple of parts she didn’t have on hand, so she went inside to wash up and then headed to a local motorcycle shop. As she stood by the counter in the shop, waiting for Dave, the man who ran the place, to grab the parts she needed from the back, her stomach rumbled. She would need to grab lunch on the way home.
Embarrassingly, her stomach was so loud that someone behind her heard it.
“Hungry?” a male voice asked, and Rebecca turned around. Her mouth fell open. There, standing behind her, was Hull. He looked the same, but entirely different somehow too. His head was practically shaved, just had small dark dots to show he wasn’t really bald. He had always been muscular, but now he gave Jason a run for his money. He was tall, and he wore a gray T-shirt that was stretched tight across his muscular chest.
“Hull,” Rebecca said, feeling foolish. Even as his girlfriend she had never called him anything else. No one called him anything else.
“I should have known I’d find you here.”
“You were looking for me?”
Hull smiled, an easy thing, kind but sarcastic. “No. I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Oh,” Rebecca said, feeling a burst of heat on her cheeks as she blushed. “I heard you were back.”
“I wanted to see everyone. I think I’m going to stick around.”
“You going to join back up?”
“With the Hammers?”
“Yeah,” Rebecca said, leaning back against the counter.
“I think so,” Hull said, and he nodded. “It’s good to see you.”
Rebecca nodded.
“So you’re hungry. We could grab a bite to eat if you have the time.”
“All right,” Rebecca said. “I’m working on a bike, though, so it will have to be fast.”
“Did you ride here?”
Of course she did. Rebecca nodded.
“Me too, but my bike needs some work. It’s been sitting in a storage locker while I’ve been gone. We could grab something and take it back to your place if you don’t mind sharing your garage.”
Rebecca nodded, but she couldn’t believe her ears. Hull was back, and he was talking to her like an old friend, and he wanted to come use her tools. They got the parts they needed and then rode over to a small burger place, taking a couple of greasy paper bags back to her place. She opened the garage door and they rolled the bikes out into the sun, where they ate and worked at the same time. Their conversation was easy, like two old friends touching base.
“So what happened with the Navy?”
Hull shrugged. He was bent over his bike, a few fries sticking out of his mouth. He chewed them and swallowed before answering. “It wasn’t what I wanted to do forever. I put in my time, felt like I should go.”
“Back to the world of motorcycles, huh?”
“It’s more than just that; you know it is. The club…the club my father was a big part of… I want to steer it back to the right path. Since Jason’s been running the show…I don’t know. I’ve only been back a few days, but some people aren’t happy.”
That was a fair enough assessment. The club had always done well in the area, and they made a lot of money doing bad things, but Jason seemed to think being a boss meant he needed to entertain people. Everything was big, flashy. He brought attention down on the Hammers—attention they didn’t need.
They spent a couple hours working on the bikes and talking. It was almost as if no time had passed at all, even though it had been five years since they’d last seen one another.
A little after six Weasel came by, and he and Hull took a few minutes to get reacquainted. Then the fat man loaded his bike into the back of his truck and drove off.
“Well, I guess I can call it a night,” Hull said, wiping his hands on an old rag as Rebecca pulled the garage door down and locked it. “Mind if I wash my hands?”
“No. Come on in,” Rebecca said, leading the way. “You remember where the bathroom is?”
She turned to look at Hull, expecting him to be heading toward the bathroom, but instead he was standing directly behind her. She went to speak, but he leaned forward, placing his hands on her hips and bending so that he could kiss her.
She shut her eyes and parted her lips to his tongue. He explored her mouth, and he tasted like the mint gum he was almost always chewing. She wrapped her arms around him without even meaning to do it.
The kiss broke, and Rebecca opened her eyes. The man she had once loved was looking down at her.
“I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it.”
“It’s fine,” Rebecca said. She went to step back, but he caught her by the arms and pulled her close. They kissed again. Rebecca didn’t know what she was doing. She knew she shouldn’t be kissing the man who had joined the Navy just to get away from her, the man she had crushed, the man who had a broken heart because of her, but she couldn’t stop herself. So she did kiss him, and her hands travelled along his back as his slid up from her hips, taking her shirt with them.
They broke their kiss long enough for her to pull the shirt over her head, and then they were kissing again, with Rebecca in only her jeans and a bra. She placed her hands on Hull’s stomach, reaching under his shirt. His abs were hard and defined. His hands were on her back, but one slid around to her chest, his fingertips brushing along her soft skin until he was at her bra. He groped her, her nipple hard and pushing against his palm. His finger hooked into the top of her bra cup and pulled it down, freeing one of her breasts, large and pale with a dark red areola.
His fingers found her nipple, pinching and rolling it softly between his thumb and index finger. He broke the kiss next, lowering his head so that he could kiss her exposed breast, planting a series of small kisses around her nipple before finally he was done teasing her and his lips brushed against her nipple before they parted and his tongue snaked out, the tip flicking back and forth over the sensitive nub.
Rebecca tilted her head back and groaned, her eyes shut. Her hand found the back of his head, rubbing his buzzed hair. He sucked on her nipple steadily but softly, pulling and pinching it with his teeth as his tongue worked its magic. Hull ground his hips forward so that his pelvis rubbed against hers, and the young woman felt his hard cock, trapped by his shorts, yearning to get out.
Soon her other breast was out, her bra tugged down but still on, and his lips were there, sucking on the newly freed nipple. Rebecca bent, careful not to break Hull’s hold on her breasts, and reached down to feel his rigid member through his shorts. He responded by grinding forward again against her palm. She gripped him, flexing her thin fingers around his cock. He pulled away from her breasts, and she knelt down before she could stop herself, sitting on her knees just inside the foyer. She reached up to the man’s fly and undid his zipper. Hull helped her, unbuttoning his shorts and pushing them and his boxers down. His cock sprang forward, large and throbbing, the base disappearing in a bush of wiry pubic hair.
Rebecca took his cock in her hand and gave it
a soft squeeze, and Hull moaned. She smiled up at him, and he looked down at her.
“Suck it,” he said, and the young, beautiful woman did just that.
She leaned forward, parting her lips as she did so. His hard member slid past her lips. She went slowly, using her tongue to tease him, sliding it back and forth on the sensitive underside of his cock.
Hull’s hand went to the back of her head, his fingers taking hold of her hair there. He controlled the pace, working her mouth back and forth over his cock. He pushed his hips forward when he pulled her head in, shoving the bulbous head of his dick down her throat. She gagged, but she took it.
Hull was the one to stop the blowjob, pulling her hair so her lips slid off his penis. He pulled her up by the hair and pressed his lips to hers again.
“Bedroom,” he breathed as the kiss ended. Rebecca nodded and turned. As they walked, they disrobed, a trail of discarded clothes leading the way from the front door to her bedroom. She stood naked at the end of her bed, turning to see the man she had once loved. He was nude too, hard and strong. He pushed her back onto the bed and then lowered his head between her legs.
His tongue on her wet slit was ecstasy. She took hold of her sheets, her body writhing as he flicked the tip of his tongue over her engorged clit. He slid a finger into her as he licked, and then two, sliding them in and out of her. She was coming in no time, an intense wave of pleasure exploding from her groin, her juices flowing freely and coating the bottom half of Hull’s face.
When she was done, sweaty and spent and lying back upon her bed, he positioned himself over her, his pelvis between her legs. He reached down, using one hand to guide himself into her.
Rebecca groaned as he pushed fully into her. He was big, the biggest man she had ever been with, his cock rock hard and pulsing inside her tight pussy. Hull rocked back and forth, sliding into her until his pelvis met hers, and then he would pull out, until nothing but the tip of his cock was inside her.
His pace was swift, his humping furious, and Rebecca knew he wouldn't last long. But still, somehow, she beat him, having another orgasm. It was just like their relationship all those years ago; he was the only man who could ever get her off more than once, usually within a span of minutes.
She dragged her nails down his back as she came, shuddering as he continued to buck. She cried out, not a name, not to Jesus, but just a cry, a long moan as the orgasm shook her to her core.
Then it was Hull’s turn. The man thrust deep inside her and stayed there, throwing his head back as he came, one hand holding him up over her, the other groping at one of her breasts, the nipple hard between his thumb and forefinger.
His cock jumped inside her, once, twice, a third time, each time spraying a long line of sticky cum deep inside her pussy. With a groan, he pulled out of her when he was finished and rolled onto his back on the bed beside her.
“Wow,” he said.
“Yeah,” Rebecca said.
“Oh crap. I should have used a condom,” Hull said.
“I’m on the pill.”
Hull leaned up on one arm and looked at her. “You have a boyfriend?”
“Not anymore,” she said.
“Perfect,” Hull said with a grin.
She looked at him, propping herself up on her own elbow, the mirror image of him. “Why is that perfect?”
“We can get started again and I don’t have to kick anyone’s ass.”
Rebecca sighed and shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
“What? We just fucked.”
“Yeah, and that’s that. We fucked. It doesn’t mean anything.”
“I see,” Hull said, and he climbed out of her bed and went down the hall to the front door, pulling on his clothes as he did so. He didn’t say anything, and neither did Rebecca. When he got to the front door, he opened it and stepped out. She didn’t try to stop him. The door slammed shut, and a minute later his bike roared to life. She listened to it as the sound faded, and then she knew he was gone. Rebecca didn’t know why exactly, but she started to cry.
3
Days passed since Rebecca and Hull had had sex, and Rebecca’s mood didn’t improve. She didn’t know why she was so against dating the man again. She had loved him once, and she was sure she still loved him. But…she had hurt him…and she was scared. She didn’t know why; she didn’t know of what. She just knew she was scared. She had been scared by how easily Hull had taken to the idea of being a father. It had sent her running, which in turn had sent him running. Apparently she was still scared.
Besides Weasel, the only other friend she still had in the Hammers was Gloria, an older woman in her fifties. She was a true blue biker chick, all blue jeans and black leather. Her hair was white, but she dyed it blond, and it sat on her head in a big way, puffy and in a style that hadn’t been seen in most places since the seventies. She always wore too much makeup, and she was loud and always ready for a fight. Rebecca loved spending time with her.
On a Saturday they got together to ride, heading into the country, whipping past barns and farmhouse that were nothing but a blur as they sped by on their Harleys.
They ended up in a little country bar called Hank’s. No one in the Hammer’s frequented it, so it was a nice getaway for Rebecca since the bars closer to home were full of other Hammers, most of who made her feel uncomfortable and unwanted since she had broken up with Jason.
Rebecca parked her bike next to Gloria’s and then followed the older woman into the bar. It was early afternoon, and there were just a few people at the bar and another three, all biker women, at one table in the corner. The women wore their colors, their black vests bearing a black rose. That was their name, the Black Roses, and Rebecca knew they were a club for women only. They also had a reputation for being a bunch of hotheads who caused trouble wherever they went.
Rebecca felt eyes on her and her friend as they sat at the bar. An old fat man with a bad comb-over took their order and set two beers in front of them. Rebecca had only taken two swigs by the time one of the Roses was at her side.
“Don’t see many Hammers up here,” the woman said as Rebecca looked at her. She was younger than Gloria but older than Rebecca. She had bright red hair and a face full of freckles.
“Don’t see many women as ugly as you,” Gloria said, leaning over her friend. Rebecca sighed and closed her eyes. She knew there was going to be a problem. That was who Gloria was.
“You’re in our neck of the woods,” the red-haired woman said. She had her name sewn into her vest. It said Red.
Gloria snorted. “Red, huh? They give you all imaginative nicknames out here.”
“My daddy called me Red his whole life,” the woman with the flaming red hair said. “You talking bad about my daddy?”
“Is he dead?” Gloria asked.
Rebecca smirked. She could see what was coming. She picked up her beer and down it.
“He is,” Red said, “God rest his soul.”
Gloria took a drink. “I’ll drink to that. He’s in a better place. Anywhere you don’t have to look at your ugly mug is surely a better place.”
“You bitch,” Red said. She glared at the two other women at the corner table and they got up. Rebecca glanced back at them. There was a woman about her age with a shaved head named Mabel and a dark-haired beauty of about fifty named Holly.
Rebecca had been in fights before, but she had never started one. But something about Red, and something about the way Rebecca had been feeling since sleeping with Hull, made her want to hit someone. And so she did. She stood up quickly and set her feet, and then she sent her closed fist flying into Red’s face. She felt the woman’s nose snap under her knuckles, and when she pulled her hand away, she saw blood gushing from Red’s nostrils, as crimson as her hair.
Red stumbled back. Rebecca saw Gloria turn to take on Mabel, and then Holly was upon her and she had to focus on that. She turned just as the woman shoved her, and Rebecca fell hard into the bar, slamming her ribs on the edge. She gr
itted her teeth and grabbed her empty beer bottle. She swung it at Holly’s head, but the pretty woman ducked it and planted an uppercut on Rebecca’s chin. Her head snapped back and she saw stars. She almost fell, but the bar kept her upright, and Rebecca shook the pain away with two quick twists of her head. Then she stepped forward, throwing the bottle at Holly.
The woman ducked, but Rebecca was already following up with a roundhouse punch, and it connected with a dull thunk to the side of Holly’s head.
“Get out of here with that garbage!” the fat man behind the bar shouted. The bottle Rebecca threw flew through the air and broke against the far wall. “I mean it!” the bartender said again.
No one paid him any attention. Red was getting up, her hand over her bleeding nose. Holly rushed forward and slammed Rebecca against the bar. She looked over and saw Gloria and Mabel on the floor, trading punches and kicks. Red went after Rebecca, standing behind Holly and throwing punches when she could.
“Get out!” the man behind the bar yelled, and then Rebecca heard a loud click. The women froze and turned to the man. He had pulled a shotgun from beneath the bar and had pumped it. He aimed it in the women’s general direction. “Ain’t none of that shit welcome here.”
“All right old timer,” Rebecca said as Holly let her go. She held her hands up. “Don’t shoot.”
She giggled, and so did the other women, Hammers and Black Roses alike. They left together, and Rebecca wondered if the fight would continue, but everyone had gotten their licks in, so they climbed upon their bikes and parted ways on somewhat good terms. Rebecca and Gloria headed back to town.
They stopped in front of Gloria’s place, a small and dingy trailer on the outskirts of town.
“Something's getting to you,” Gloria said. “Still a problem with Jason? Look, he’s a dipshit, and the rest of the guys are too. I know you love the club, and things will work out. Stick with it.”
“It’s not that,” Rebecca said truthfully. “Hull is back in town.”