by Irons, Rose
Bella smiled and drew the Baron down to her for a long, deep kiss. “That was incredible.”
“Mmph.” The Baron smirked. “Would you like to go again?”
Unbelievably, she felt his cock rising inside her.
Bella moaned. “You are amazing.”
“Why thank you.” His smile made her pussy clench around his cock once more.
She grabbed his hips and pressed him down into her, catching him by surprise. “Oh, Baron. Clearly there’s still some animal in you yet.”
Sheriff Joe Rivers knew he was about to die.
All about him, the flames rose higher, and the smoke was so thick he could barely breathe. He struggled to his feet despite the dozen stab wounds in his back. He had to get out of the building before the roof collapsed. He must stop his attackers... somehow.
Even as he thought the words, a shape materialized in front of him. It looked over him, taller than any man should be. He blinked at it, but couldn't quite make his eyes focus right through the smoke and blood. But he knew who it was.
Dirk Baxter and his wild gang of biker hooligans had moseyed into town about a month ago, and already half had been picked up on minor charges. This time, Joe had arrested Dirk's lieutenant and half a dozen other bikers for grand larceny, and he had enough evidence to send them up the river for a long, long time.
Apparently, Dirk hadn't liked that much.
The first sign of trouble that Joe had had that evening was from old widow Harris claiming, as she did every Saturday night, that there were men lurking around her bedroom window. How was he to know that she wasn't kidding? Sheriff Rivers had just been returning with two more biker thugs for the holding cell when he saw the station go up in flames.
And when he went inside to put the fire out, Dirk had been waiting for him.
Two hundred pounds of sheer muscle and six feet of rage, Dirk would have been a challenge even if the Sheriff weren't surprised. As it was, he barely had time to reach for his gun before the knife first hit him.
He lost track of how many times after that the knife hit him. When he finally fell to the floor, he heard his deputy scream from the holding cell. The bikers had locked Deputy Andrews in before they set the building on fire.
As Sheriff Rivers struggled to stand and go to his deputy's aid, he felt a fist connect with the side of his face, and then all he knew was blackness.
Time passed while he lay on the floor unconscious, and now that the Sheriff had managed to struggle to his feet once more, he could tell by the spread of the fire that he had been out cold for too long. Deputy Andrews had stopped screaming. He didn't know if the silence was worse than the screams. He hoped the smoke had gotten to his friend before the flames.
But Dirk's presence before him made any more thought impossible. The Sheriff was going to die. The fire might not have finished him off, but the biker would.
"I won't rest until you scum are behind bars where you belong," he shouted at the figure before him.
He couldn't quite tell through the smoke, but he thought Dirk smiled. "I think yer gonna take a nice long rest right now, Sheriff."
Dirk swung at him with one of those impossibly large arms, and pain screamed across his chest. He looked down in disbelief to see four deep gashes across his entire torso.
Somehow he found his voice. "Maybe I'm going down, but I'm taking you with me."
With the last of his strength, Joe lifted the gun - and fired.
~
Mindy's heart was pounding in her chest at the audacity of what she was about to do - but she had to know. Dirk and the others had come back late last night, smelling of smoke and blood. She hadn't given it much thought, not dreaming they were capable of such violence, but the news reports left too much to her imagination. Deputy Andrews' wife would be taking her husband home in an urn, and all that was left of the Sheriff was his star...
She swallowed a sob at the thought of Joe being dead.
They had been high school sweethearts. They had been children together, dumb and in love and full of faith that the world was kind. She thought she was going to marry him, once. But that was before her mother remarried. Once her stepfather started in on her, Mindy could never see the world in the same way. It drove her crazy that Joe still saw the world as a beautiful place. Even as sheriff, he believed in second chances. He refused to see the world as it really was.
In the end, that was why Mindy left. Maybe she was punishing him for the way he saw things, maybe she was punishing herself, she didn't know. She had worked on her own for a while, tried making it in the city before she hooked up with Dirk and his bikers and came home, in a way. She would never forget the look on Joe's face when he first saw her with Dirk. She would never forgive herself for the role she had played in bringing the bikers here, if what she feared was true.
Even though it had been a long time since Mindy believed in hope, she found herself pleading with whatever gods might be listening that she was wrong about what had happened last night.
"Dirk? We need to talk."
She was afraid he would be angry when she spelled out her accusations, but to her horror, he only grinned.
"Guess you got a brain under dem boobs after all, darlin'."
Mindy balled her fists, furious. "How could you! Do you know what you've done?"
Dirk stood, towering over her. His face turned dark and dangerous. "I've made this town ours, darlin'. And I think it's in yer best interests to be happy 'bout that."
"You bastard!" She swung at him, but he was faster than she was. He caught her fist in his hand.
When he spoke again, his voice was deadly quiet. "I think yer forgettin' just who yer talkin' to, darlin'."
Dirk squeezed her fist, and Mindy fell to her knees in pain, tears stinging her eyes.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, not even sure who she was apologizing to or why. "I'm sorry."
She had chosen this life. She had chosen Dirk. He was all she had now.
Powerful need rose in her, less to do with sex and more to do with comfort. This was all she had, here and now. Everything else she had loved was gone. At that moment, Mindy needed very much to feel alive. With her free hand, she reached for Dirk's belt. Her fingers trembled as she undid it.
Dirk hissed in satisfaction and released her other hand. She unbuttoned his jeans and then slowly slid the zipper down. She was suddenly desperate for contact, desperate to taste him and feel him inside her. Nothing would ever be all right again, but she could at least have this.
He was already hard when she pulled him free from his fly. Dirk's thick cock sprang from its confines, nearly hitting her in the face. Mindy closed her eyes and opened her lips to him eagerly, wanting to feel even for a moment that things would be all right.
The easy familiarity of Dirk's massive member made Mindy feel, just for a moment, safe. She swayed seductively before her leader, moving her head back and forth against his member, taking so much of him inside herself that she could barely keep from gagging.
Dirk groaned and twined his fingers into Mindy's hair, urging her on. She bent to work with a will, working her violent boyfriend thoroughly now. She buried one of her hands deep inside Dirk's boxers, cupping his balls and working him until the biker groaned again.
"Fuck," Dirk hissed.
Mindy began to move. Faster now she rocked back and forth, taking more and more of the biker inside her mouth until Dirk's cock was actually deep inside her throat. She grunted as Dirk began to thrust his hips into her, breaking her rhythm with a more desperate pace of her own.
Mindy tried not to gag against the violent thrusts with which Dirk took his pleasure from her mouth. She gave a moan against him, struggling desperately for air, struggling wildly until she felt Dirk stiffen. He held her head tightly and pumped himself into her throat. She struggled, trying to swallow all of the salty cum she had drawn from him.
Casually, Dirk released her head, pushing her away from his cock as he straightened his jeans. "Good to see
you remembered yer place."
Mindy looked up at him, tears threatening to fall. Now that they were finished, she felt only despair, and not the release she had hoped for. What had she just done? How could she have let Dirk touch her after what he had done?
With a laugh, the biker strolled from the room.
Alone once more, Mindy finally allowed her tears to fall freely. She buried her head in her hands, trying not to think of what she had become. "Oh, Joe," she whispered, "I wish you were here."
~
He escaped somehow. He didn't know how; some animal instinct must have taken over. He crawled deep into the woods, concentrating only on putting distance between himself and the fire.
He remembered finding the cave and crawling into it, but how long had he been there? It seemed like the fire happened only yesterday, but his wounds were already healing. He would bear the scars of battle all his life, but he would live.
Live, and make Dirk pay.
That thought, more than anything, was what kept him going. He foraged by day and slept deeply by night. No animals disturbed him. The first night, he slept with his gun at the ready, but they must have smelled his human scent and given the cave a wide berth.
Slowly, he began to venture forth. Always he was cautious of his wounds, but he still seemed to be healing at a great rate. He didn't question it, only pushed himself harder. He wanted Dirk to pay.
Dirk, and all of his bikers. Even Mindy, if she was still with them. For a moment, he saw the stricken look on her face when he had first seen her with Dirk, and then pushed it aside. So what if he had loved her? She made her choice.
It couldn't have been more than a week before he was fully healed. The Sheriff wondered again how long he had been lost to his animal senses before awakening in that cave, but it was always easy to push his questions away in pursuit of revenge. He began scouting the edges of town, careful to stay just out of sight.
That was when Joe saw him. One of Dirk's bikers, a punk the others lovingly called Knucklehead. Knucklehead was one of the bikers the Sheriff had arrested before the fire. He had been a part of the ambush that night.
A hot rage built in his chest until he was blind with it. With a roar, Joe burst from the bushes, lunging for the lone biker with an animal fury overwhelming his senses.
He lost his head then, and when he regained some sense of understanding, he was alone. Or was he? Slowly, Joe realized he was covered in blood, still warm and sticky. With a sense of revulsion, the Sheriff realized it was around his mouth as well as his hands.
What the hell just happened?
He was naked, splattered in blood, the remains of Knucklehead all about him. The tang of blood was sharp to his nose, and he could still smell the foul exhaust from the motorcycle - and others like it - polluting his town. Improbably, the birds still sang. It was as though his very senses were heightened.
This time, it was his police training that took over. He moved the motorcycle and the larger pieces of what was left of Knucklehead to the bushes, cleaning himself as best he could. He didn't dare think about what had happened yet. First, to get out of there.
But the conclusion surfaced in his mind anyway. Somehow, he had become something both more and less than man, and had killed Knucklehead. Worse, he had liked it.
By the time he finished cleaning up the crime scene, his worry had solidified into grim satisfaction in his gut. This, too, was a weapon. If he was now part beast, then he could use that against Dirk, too. They all would pay.
As he wheeled the motorcycle deeper into the woods, the beginnings of a plan rose within him.
~
Dirk and the others were on edge. Knucklehead hadn't checked in in over a day, and Dirk didn't like insubordination. He was angry and ready to lash out at the smallest offense. Mindy was glad when he allowed her and a couple of the others to go to the bar. She needed a break from Dirk now that her life-affirming desire had receded, and she knew from their relieved faces that the others were happy to be away from their boss' uncertain mood as well.
They had just settled in and started on a much-needed round of beer when the grumbling sound of a motorcycle rang out in the night.
Mindy frowned and put down her beer. No one else had planned to leave their hideout that night. Had Dirk sent someone after them?
But whoever it was on the motorcycle, they didn't come in or even cut the engine. It rumbled outside, on and on. Mindy saw the others exchange glances next to her.
Without a word, they reached the same conclusion. The bikers both stood, and Mindy saw them check their knives as they went out to investigate.
They didn't come back.
Mindy took another swallow of beer. Was this one of Dirk's tests? Or was something truly wrong? Dirk didn't usually like her to be by herself - he said she was too good of a prize to rival gangs.
But there was no rival gang here. Mindy should be safe... so why was her heart beating so fast?
Steeling herself against one of Dirk's jokes, she paid for the beers and went outside.
The motorcycles they came on were still there, so the others hadn't left her. Mindy frowned, trying to peer into the dark without leaving the dubious safety of the flickering neon lights. If they hadn't left, where were they?
That was when a hand clamped over her mouth, another around her middle, and a familiar voice growled in her ear: "Don't move or you're dead!"
Mindy thought she would faint. This couldn't be real.
"I'm going to let you go, and you're not going to scream," the voice continued. "Otherwise, we're going to have to do this the hard way. Nod if you understand."
She nodded, heart in her throat.
The hands released her. Mindy turned slowly - and looked into the face of a ghost.
"Joe," she breathed. "You're alive! I'm so glad - "
His face twisted in anger. "Don't like to me, Mindy. I'm not the man you knew anymore."
He threw her over the back of a motorcycle - was it Knucklehead's? - and they sped off into the night. Mindy clung to her ex for dear life and felt for the first time an emotion she had never before felt around Joe: fear.
~
The Sheriff deposited her on the ground of the cave with no more care than if she were a sack of potatoes. Mindy rubbed her bruises gingerly as she watched him move about the cave, securing the motorcycle and starting a fire. He moved differently now than he had before. It wasn't injuries, either, she didn't think. He seemed... powerful. Dangerous.
She felt a pang at the thought, and a warmth between her legs. He looked good, and for a moment she was very lost in the thought of testing out just how powerful he had become.
Then he turned back to her, and the hard look in his eyes reminded her that she was a prisoner here - and the Sheriff wouldn't want her any more after what Dirk had done.
"What do you want from me?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.
"Information." He threw another log on the fire. "This isn't a social call, Mindy."
Mindy took a deep breath. "I can give you all the information you want. I know Dirk's plans and the patrols of the whole gang. But I want something in return."
The Sheriff's eyes were hard and dark. "We'll see."
She told him then, told him everything she knew. Every time a flash of anger crossed his face and she felt a pang of guilt at betraying her crew, she reminded herself of how Dirk had smiled when she learned what had happened at the station. It was enough to carry her through.
"What will you do now?" she asked tentatively once she finished.
The Sheriff's face was still closed to her. "I don't tell traitors my business."
A sob caught in her throat, and Mindy couldn't keep herself from grabbing his hand. "Joe, please, I swear I didn't know what they had planned. Dirk, everything - it was all a mistake. I wish you could know how sorry I am."
He wouldn't meet her gaze, but Mindy thought she saw, for the briefest of moments, his eyes soften. "What do you want, Mindy?"
>
"What do you mean?"
The Sheriff sighed. "You asked for something in return. What do you want?"
Mindy bit her lip, and blurted out, "A kiss."
He gave her a hard look, and for a long moment, Mindy thought he would refuse. She took a step toward him, and then another when he didn't back away. Reaching up for him, she wound her arms around his neck and then, daringly, raised her lips to his.