by Angel Steel
“I’ll see if we have a spare out back instead of making a new one,” Torch says then walks toward the door. “Zane,” he says over his shoulder.
I take a step in her direction. “Zane,” Torch growls behind me.
Raising her eyebrow at me, she crosses her arms over her chest and continues to stare, unmoving. Well, if she wants to flaunt her stuff and ignore me, that’s fine with me for now. We will talk later, much later. My wife is slowly getting the fire back in veins. A slow smirk comes over my lips. Winking at her, I turn on my heels and walk out the door past Torch and back to the mechanic shop, not waiting for Torch.
I’ve missed the fire in my wife. It wasn’t the only thing I missed about not being around her. No. I missed waking up with her, my body wrapped around hers. Her touch. Her beautiful smile that would light up any dark room. Her heart. I missed her love. The love we shared was the only thing that kept me alive these last five years. She held onto us until I came back into her life as someone else, and showed me exactly what I’ve been missing this whole time. I lost count how many times I watched through our bedroom window as she got off. Sliding the dildo in and out of her pussy, legs spread wide, her fingers dancing over her clit as she arched from the bed and screams out.
Some nights I heard my name leave her lips as she fucked herself with her fingers or vibrator. So many times I wanted to just walk in there and bury myself completely and feel her warm wet heat around me again. Feel her nails as they scratch down my back, her sweet little moans as she comes. The sweet taste of her. But I never crossed the line and ended up pulling myself off picturing the feeling of her squeezing my dick as I come in my hand.
Stepping into the mechanic shop, I move over to the bike I was working on earlier and sit down on the trolley and begin removing the rest of the parts. A smirk covers my lips. Let’s see how far she is willing to go with this. Two can play this game and it’s going to get very interesting indeed.
Stepping out of my truck, I shut the door and make my way across the carpark and come to a stop in front of Masen and Rosko as they lean against the front of the building having a smoke.
“Chopper wants us in his office before we head out back. He knows we’re keeping shit from him and wants all the details or we can find another shop to work at,” Masen says as he drops his cigarette butt to the ground and stomps on it with his boot.
“Pull up every record we have on who’s working for Carlos and show him the images. Let’s see if he knows them or not. That should keep him busy for a couple of days,” I answer.
We can’t give him any more intel until we bring in the two suspects. We need them in our custody to find out when the big shipment is going out. If he lets it slip up that he knows what’s happening, this whole mission could be blown to pieces. The last five years wasted for nothing.
Plus, I am keeping him safe, only telling him what he needs to know.
The front door dings open and Torch walks through it and over to where we are all standing. “Boys,” he says as he approaches.
Both Rosko and Masen nod their heads toward him, then Masen pulls out his phone and begins shifting his fingers on the screen quickly. I hear a bike engine pull into the carpark behind me, but I don’t move.
“Is there someone new starting today?” Rosko asks.
“Not that I know of,” I answer.
I glance over to Torch waiting to hear his answer, but frown at the huge smile covering his mouth as he looks out into the carpark.
“Jesus Christ,” Masen mutters quietly as his eyes glue to the area behind me.
Laughter leaves Torch’s mouth as he makes his way over to the door and holds it open while glancing over his shoulder.
“Whoever invented leather needs a God damn medal,” Rosko grunts to my side.
Spinning around wanting to know what the fuss is about and as my eyes land on it, I swallow my damn tongue. A blood red Ducati sits there as the rider swings their slender leg over the seat and hops off. The body is completely covered in leather from head to toe. I can’t help but allow my eyes to roam over the sexy body as she raises her hands to her head and pulls off her helmet. Resting the helmet on the seat, she runs her fingers through her long blonde hair. Then she lifts one leg up and props her heel on the seat, and begins fixing her boot. Her hand glides up and away from the boot to her knee, then ever so slowly up her thigh.
“Oh shit,” Masen hisses at my side.
I can’t take my eyes away from her. She stands, straightening the top of her pants then runs her hands over the front of her outfit. I swallow my moan as her hands glide over her breasts, cups them and shifts around in the top then she reaches over and picks up her helmet and turns our way. My jaw drops open as soon as I see her face.
Lia!
Her now long blonde hair, bounces behind her. My eyes travel down the front of her body. The purple leather top cups her breast perfectly. A row of leather strips zig-zag into a small ‘V’ down the front. The material ends two inches above her navel. Black leather pants cover her legs. The only thing holding these pants on her body is the thick band at her waist and the thin woven leather strips exposing a line of skin from her hip to her feet. All it would take is a single cut to the top band and the pants would fall away from her, exposing her completely.
My hand curls into a fist as Amelia walks over to the door, not once looking in my direction and leans up, kisses Torch on the cheek and walks through the door.
Torch moves into the doorway, holding it open. “You must’ve done something real bad to piss her off this much.” He shakes his head. “You’re in for one hell of a day. Hope you like blue balls, bro,” he laughs then walks into the shop, the door closing behind him.
I stomp forward and reach for the handle to follow after them. An arm wraps around me from behind, pulling me back a step. I grip onto the hand holding my shirt and bend it away from my chest. A thick forearm wraps around my neck, dragging me back. Grasping the forearm, I lean forward ready to throw the body over my shoulder, when a leg wraps around mine from behind and speaks, “Reign it in. The trucks come in today, focus on that. Deal with your wife later,” Masen says near my ear. I nod once, then his arm falls away and he steps back.
I’m getting in that booth whether she likes it or not. There’s no way she’s walking around this shop, dealing with customers or delivery drivers wearing what she is. Already Masen and Rosko have their tongues wagging in her direction. If they are doing it now, means every single bastard that steps foot in this shop is going to do the exact same. Did she want me to go to prison? Because, right now, if any of the men eye fuck her, I’m killing them. A slow painful death. I don’t care who it is.
She isn’t going to be alone for even a second. I’m sticking to her like glue even if she needs to use the restroom… I’m going in. She can hate me all she wants. I’m not allowing her to flaunt what belongs to me to every man that enters the shop. Walking back to the door, I pull it open and step inside. The first thing I hear is Lia’s laughter coming from down the hall. Gritting my teeth, I head in the opposite direction away from her and toward Chopper’s office to tell him about the change of plans. If he wants the shop still standing at the end of the day, he is placing me in that booth.
‘Fuck, no.’ Is still ringing in my ears. It’s what Amelia shouted when Chopper told her I was to be in the booth with her all day. There isn’t much for me to do in the booth beside watch as Amelia glides around each bike as she creates her designs. The way her body shifts one way, pushing the curve of her breast out, her ass in the air, as she leans forward and adds the fine details to her artwork.
My cock strained against my jeans, it’s been constantly hard since I followed her into the booth. It doesn’t help every time she bends over, my dick jumps in her direction. Several times I had to walk out and get my breathing under control and my blood back into the rest of my body instead of the whole lot in my dick.
But as soon as I step foot back into the room, my breath lod
ges in my throat and every ounce of blood goes straight to my cock, either seeing her leant over the bike like before or astride it with all that American muscle between her thighs.
If it wasn’t for Torch being in the room working on a different bike, I’d have her bent over that bike, stripped bare, watching as my cock slides in and out of her pussy. I groan at the image that flashes in front of me. Turning away from her, I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. Torch walks around into the main area, wiping his hands on a rag.
He stops beside me. “All right?” he asks tucking the rag into the side of his jeans.
“Yep,” I answer and turn back around.
“I did warn you.” He grins and walks back the way he came.
Shifting my dick into a more comfortable position, I step away from the door and over to the bench and sit down on the stool facing Amelia. She steps back and moves to the front of the bike. Her legs straddle the wheel as she leans over and starts pin-striping the front fender. The top half of her breasts fall out over the top. Spinning on the stool, I face the bench and get the next lot of paint ready. This day can’t go quick enough. Only five hours left.
Fuck! Hope my balls haven’t fallen off by then!
How can a man get sexier than he already is?
Simple.
Stand there, no shirt, his chest, arms, and face, glistening from the cool water he just moments ago poured over himself. Watching every drop as it slides down his well-defined chest, down over each one of his pecs and soaking the front of his jeans, outlining the bulge behind them.
Turning my back to him yet again, I glance over the bike one more time and stand. Pulling the rag from my pocket, I wipe my face of the sweat that’s covering my skin. But also the tears that have escaped my eyes, seeing Dante stand there in the same room as me much alive. I know what my plan is, but it’s hard to go with. I want my husband. Simple. But he needs to understand what he did to me, was wrong. Leaving me here, alone while he was still out there alive, and never once telling me that he was alive and well. No one did that to someone they loved. Well, apparently loved. How would he feel if this whole thing was reversed? The same as I feel right now, I bet.
Stepping back from the bike, I move over to the bench ignoring both Dante and Torch as they stand at the back of the room. I need to keep myself occupied. Lifting my hair up into a ponytail, I wipe the back of my neck with the rag and throw it on the bench and grab the other spray gun and walk back over to the bike. Ten more minutes left and I am out of this room and away from Dante. I need to get out of here. I thought this would’ve been easy, to show him what he’s missed these last five years, but boy, am I wrong. I can’t do it.
Every time I hear his voice or my eyes land on him, my heart breaks, knowing it isn’t Zane standing there anymore, but my dead husband. It’s too damn hard. I can’t take any more of it. It might have been easy for him to deal with all this, but it isn’t for me.
As soon as it hits five o’clock, I make my way to the front of the shop and to my bike. I ignored Dante as much as I could during the day. It was hard, believe me. So many times I wanted to jump him as he walked around the shop in only his jeans covered in grease, but I fought it. Then there were the times when a woman would walk in and he practically flirted with them right in front of me. Allow them to touch him, put their fucking hands all over his chest and stand there and smile at me. If he wanted to piss me off, he did a damn fine job of it.
So I did the same to him when a guy walked in. Yeah, I know it is childish, but if he was doing it so was I. Tit for tat, as they say.
But I can’t take it. I stand at the counter talking to one of the guys picking up the bikes when I turn slightly and see Dante leaning against the wall, standing too close to a woman as she leans into him and whispers something in his ear then hands something over to him. As soon as he takes it from her, his eyes find mine.
I shake my head and turn away, hiding the hurt I know is covering my face, I quickly finish the paperwork for the pickup and walk away, not wanting to stay behind and witness anymore.
Sitting on my bike, I flick the kickstand up and turn the engine over. I hear my name being called behind me. Ignoring it, I pull on my helmet, turn the handlebars and push back. I rev the engine, put it in first gear and twist my right hand and accelerate out of the carpark, leaving a trail of smoke behind me.
I zoom between the traffic, weaving my way through the cars as I head the long way home. This was the way I went when I didn’t want whoever is at my house to know I am there. Two streets over from my house I slow my speed and make my way down the windy road. The white brick home behind mine comes into view. Turning, I creep down the side driveway and turn off the engine at the gate. Pushing it open with the front tire I make my way through and park my bike beside my garage at the back of my house. Pulling my helmet off, I walk up the back steps and quietly open the door and step inside. Locking the door behind me, I remove my boots and make my way to my room. Untying the strips of leather at the front of my top as I walk down the hallway and pull it over my head once I step into my bedroom, I throw it on the seat in the corner. I drop my boots near the dresser and move over to the end of the bed and begin removing my pants.
Bending over to pick my pants up from the ground, the door behind me slams shut. Screaming, I spin around quickly and find Dante leaning against the closed door, arms crossed over his chest as his hungry eyes roam over my body.
“How the hell did you get in my house?” I growl, shifting from the end of the bed to the side, away from him.
He steps forward, moving further into the room, but still blocking the exit. I glance over to the bathroom door and back at him. I need to get away from him. I know the second he touches me I will cave. Dante takes a step in my direction and that is when I run. Spinning on my feet I run toward the bathroom door, but before I can open it his hands slam aside my head, his body pushing into me from behind.
He leans down and whispers in my ear, “You never changed the code to get in.”
Of course, I didn’t. It was our anniversary.
“Still doesn’t give you a right to be in my house, Dante,” I grit out as I push back against him.
“It’s our house, Lia. I have every right to be here,” he says as his fingers trace over my hip bone. Then he wraps his arms across my stomach and pulls me against the front of him and steps back taking me with him. He turns around facing the bed and before I can even think, he bends me over the edge of my bed, my ass in the air, and in the next second, a gasp falls from my lips as Dante’s hand slides straight past my panties and inside me.
“Fuck, baby,” he growls, pushing his fingers deeper inside of me.
I push back against his fingers, trying to take more of him. He pulls his fingers back and circles my opening, I whimper wanting him back inside of me. I go to stand, but he pushes between my shoulders and pins me down.
“Stay,” he orders.
I grip the sheet of my bed, as his fingers slide back into me. His other hand slides up the back of my leg and stops between my legs and before I can comprehend what he’s going to do, he tears my panties from my body, then his hand comes down hard on my ass, slapping me, ripping a moan from my throat.
“Damn, you're beautiful,” he says then pulls his finger from me.
I glance over my shoulder at him and whimper as he lifts his fingers straight to his mouth and slides them in and groans as he sucks my juices clean. His other hand drops to the front of his jeans and he undoes them, freeing his cock.
“I’ve been hard ever since you stepped foot into that shop wearing what you had on.” His hand comes down and slaps my ass again, causing another moan to erupt from my lips, then his hand is there rubbing his palm over the sting as he leans forward and glides his cock through my wetness.
“You want my cock inside of you, Lia?” he says holding my hips in his grip as he rocks forward, sliding the tip of his erection against my clit. A whimper escapes me. “You’ve stayed clear
of me this whole week, Lia. Tormenting me with the damn leather pants you keep wearing. I was okay with you wearing them until you rocked up to work wearing what you did today. Showing every damn fucking male there what they can’t fucking have?” He leans over and cups my breast, flicking the now hard bud with his fingers. Then he slides his hand down over my ribcage to my stomach and dips his fingers down and begins circling my clit. “Did you want one of them to fuck you, Amelia?” he grunts then pulls his hand away and grabs his cock and lines it up with my center. “Maybe I need to remind my wife again as to whom she belongs,” he growls. I don’t get a chance to reply as a scream is torn out of me as he plunges his thick cock, balls deep inside of me.
“I gotta fuck you hard. So fuckin' hard,” he moans, as my walls clamp around him. He pulls out of me and thrusts back in hard and fast, but he doesn’t stop—he never stops. His fingers dig into my flesh as he grips onto my hips tightly as he enters me— in and out, over and over, again and again.
I claw at the sheet under my hands as I push back into him. This is what I’ve been missing. My husband. He leans over me and slides his hand down from my hip to my hard nub, pinching it between his fingers. I buck against him, my head thrown back on a moan as he angles his hips more, sliding deeper into my core.
“Yes, yes, yes,” I cry out, as he thrusts increase.
My arms give out as I drop forward onto the mattress. A loud moan falls from my lips as he slides even deeper in this position. Sliding my hand down along the mattress and between my legs I wrap my hand around his balls and begin tugging on them gently.
“Shit, baby,” he grunts out, his hips shooting forward.