My Dixie Wardens MC cut.
Finding socks and shoes, I walked over to the bed and sat down, pulling on my socks before attaching my ankle holster that was already holding my compact .45.
Then I buckled my boots, tied the shoelaces, swiped on some deodorant and dashed out of the house. Heading straight for my bike, I straddled it, kicked the kickstand up, and started it with a roar.
Although it was drowned out by the sound of six other Harleys starting right alongside me.
The last thing I saw as we pulled out into the street was the dismayed eyes of my neighbor as she watched me ride away.
Which made me wonder, was it because I was in a MC, or because she didn’t want to see me go?
Chapter 4
I want to bang you like a screen door in a hurricane.
-E-card
Channing
4 months later
I needed sex.
If I didn’t get some sex soon, I’d die. For sure.
My eyes wandered over to the house next door, and I watched, for the fifth night in a row, as the man masturbated in front of his window.
The sad thing was that he didn’t even know what kind of erotic show he was giving me.
He had curtains for Christ’s sakes. Why did they become so sheer at night?
With the back lighting of the light, all I had to do was sit on my bed, stare forward, and I had a perfect real time movie of the man in silhouette as he worked his hard cock.
Fuck, but I could even see it when he came. How was that even possible?
And tonight, here I was laying out on my bed, naked, and masturbating to the sight of it.
I was a sick fucker.
Even more, it was almost fate that he’d wait until so late at night to do it. I mean, it was three in the morning for Christ’s sake.
Did the man ever sleep?
He’d started going to work during the day now, and I was only able to see him early in the morning or late in the evening. Though, he was always working on that car until it was late, even if he worked that day. So late that he had to use a light. And I could see it for hours.
Tonight was different though. He’d had to bail out early due to the storm, which put him in his room earlier than he ever got there. His window was open, just like mine was.
And the storm was going strong.
Which was why when the wind gusted, the window treatment on the man’s window blew back causing him to look over quickly.
And in that instant, the curtains stayed parted, our eyes connected, and I knew he saw me masturbating along with him. The smile told me everything.
He didn’t stop, though. Instead, he got closer. He was so close to the curtains that I could’ve thrown the dildo I was masturbating with at him and struck him with it.
Not that I would have. He probably would’ve kept it in retaliation, but still. He was so close that I could swear he heard my labored breathing.
Our hands worked on our bodies in unison. I watched him work himself faster and faster, moving his hand so quick down his hard length that it was a blur.
My eyes threatened to close as my orgasm became imminent, but I fought it. I didn’t want to miss a second of this show.
Moments later, my orgasm blasted over me.
My nipples tightened to hard peaks, and goose bumps broke out over my skin, despite the muggy air. Lightening shot down my spine and centered in my pussy as I shoved the dildo inside me even harder, prolonging the release that was rocking my body.
His hoarse shout had me snapping my eyes open to watch as his hand worked his own orgasm out of his dick, jetting hot spurts of semen into his hand.
His eyes looked over to mine as he watched me slowly pull out the purple dildo, and he smiled before letting the curtain go once more.
It was then that I realized he’d seen me come, and I’d seen him do the same.
He’d moved the curtain.
Holy shit.
His dick was huge.
Holy shit.
Now I was horny all over again.
Fuck.
***
The note on my car, before I left for work, had me blushing so hard that I felt lightheaded.
‘WAS IT AS GOOD FOR YOU AS IT WAS FOR ME?—LOKI’.
The handwriting was in all caps, and had a slight lean to the right, and I knew instantly whom it was from.
My neighbor.
Loki.
At least I had his name now.
Loki...the biker. The very big, scary biker who belonged to a biker gang.
When those bikers had pulled up that day, four months ago, in their black leather, riding those massive bikes, my breath froze in my chest.
They were all massive and scary looking, and the older one, the one with the goatee down to his chest, was quite intimidating. Especially when his eyes moved to me, pinning me in place as he surveyed me.
The only reason he’d finally moved his eyes away from me was to turn to the man, Loki, who’d come running out of his house in a freakin’ towel.
He’d yelled that he’d be right out, and then turned, except he stopped in his tracks when he saw me checking out his luscious body.
I knew he had a great body hiding under those ratty clothes, but holy shit.
Over the past few months, I had a plethora of Jill Till images of him in my mind that I thought about whenever I needed release. In fact, my Jill Till was so freaking full of him all hot and sweaty that I thought I couldn’t possibly add any more to it.
Then last night, I’d seen even more of that delicious body, and I realized that I wanted him so bad that it literally hurt.
Which led me to this morning and the note.
My phone jingled as I balanced my bag, and drink, so I sat it all on top of my car to answer it before dropping down inside.
“Hello?” I answered as I started my car.
“Chan? Hey, do you want to go get our nails done?” Brittany asked.
Today was Brittany’s only day off.
However, it was Saturday, and I had to work at my second job with The Bayou Funeral Home.
Normally, I wouldn’t go out this early, but I’d gotten a call from Ray Platt, the manager, asking if I could work in the ‘parlor’ as he liked to call it. Really, it was just a glorified receptionist, but still, someone had to do it, and he’d promised me a bonus.
A bonus I needed to pay my part for the foundation to be fixed. Especially now that it was affecting my being able to close and lock the doors. Ordinarily, I shouldn’t have to mess with something like a foundation since I’m renting, but the door not shutting was making me nervous. The landlord told me I would have to kick in some cash if I wanted it done.
I hadn’t been able to lock my back door in over a week because I couldn’t get it closed all the way.
Luckily my brother was there, even though he’d lost his job and hadn’t been able to pay rent in over a month now. The rent was more reasonable than anywhere else in the area and I could afford it on my own.
“I’m sorry, Brit. I have to go to work at The Bayou today. They needed me to stand in for Stephanie. Again. I could probably be considered full time in that position now with how much I’ve had to do it lately.”
As I spoke, I backed out of the driveway and started to drive away when a yell stopped me in my tracks.
Pressing my foot gently on the brake, I looked up to see my neighbor running towards me. At least I thought it was my neighbor, but where yesterday his hair was long and shaggy, today it was short and spiky. Making him look absolutely gorgeous.
“Jesus Christ...” I said to no one in particular.
“What...what?” Brittany yelled into my ear.
I ignored her though and instead cranked the window down keeping the phone wedged in between my face and shoulder.
“Y-yes?” I asked as he placed one hand on the top of my car, and the other on top of my door.
; Then he leaned in and asked, “Did you want this stuff on top of your car?”
I looked up, as if I could see through the roof, and groaned. “Yes. Yes I did.”
He smiled wide, showing me straight white teeth, and handed me my bag and drink.
“Thank you,” I said huskily.
His eyes fastened onto my mouth, and then leaned in, kissing me softly on the lips. “You’re welcome.”
Then he was gone, leaving me panting behind him.
“Holy shit,” I exclaimed.
“WHAT?” Brittany yelled into my ear.
She was squealing right along with me as I told her what happened.
“Oh, we are definitely discussing this tomorrow,” she snapped. “I’ll bring the coffee this time.”
I drove to work in a daze, totally out of it. That man’s lips were deadly.
***
Of course, I would have to deal with a grieving family.
Fucking Ray. All he did was see a pretty girl and he had to jump on her the moment she showed up.
Although it was convenient, since the woman seemed to make the crying man’s weeping become harder.
I hated this part, dealing with a man who was so broken up about his daughter’s death.
To make it worse, their daughter was burned alive, which the man made sure to point out to me numerous times. The man’s wife just sat there in shock. She didn’t speak or cry; just sat there and stared blankly into space.
Controlling my shiver, I bid them to take a seat as I watched the woman and Mr. Platt walk back into the back.
I didn’t understand what was going on, and why those two couldn’t go with them, but it really was none of my business.
I was paid to guide them to where they needed to go, and show them around. Not be their psychiatrist. I was a hairdresser. Normally that would make me a confidant of sorts, but that was my failure in life.
I hated dealing with people. I was awkward and socially unkempt. I didn’t want to deal with their petty problems, because I had enough problems on my own.
When I was in my senior year in high school, people liked to call me Queen Bitch. They always said that I thought I was too good for them, when, in reality, I was barely hanging on to my crumbling family. Taking care of my own problems came first, which normally put me in the ‘bitch’ category.
“Can you bring me something to drink?” The weeping man asked.
Just as I was about to comply, a biker walked in the door, and my breath stalled in my lungs.
He was wearing the same type of vest that I’d seen on the men that pulled into my neighbor’s driveway several months ago.
Did he know my neighbor?
Then his thunderous expression made me take a step back, and swallow convulsively at the contempt on his face.
Thank God it wasn’t leveled on me, because I probably wouldn’t have been able to stand against his ire.
“My sister, Shannon Spada, is being buried two days from now,” the giant said.
“Of course, what can I help you with?” I asked.
The giant also had a Mohawk, and my eyes kept straying from his thunderous expression to the couple in the corner.
Didn’t Mr. Platt just take that woman back for the same reason?
“Name’s Tiago Spada, I’m here to checkout some of the rooms, get some things ironed out before the viewing of my sister in a couple of days,” he snapped.
Looking at my paper for the name of the sister, I found her, and the name Tiago Spada next to it. As well as the woman who’d just gone back with Ray. Adeline Spada. Hmmm.
My eyes widened. “Of course, I’ll be glad to show you the way,” I said as I turned quickly.
My eyes went wide as man after man poured through the door, but I didn’t comment on it. Hopefully ignoring them was the way to go.
He nodded, but didn’t answer.
Looking at the weeping man in the corner, I felt horrible that this family couldn’t come together for their dead loved one, but I was not one to judge. My family wasn’t all shits and giggles either.
“O-okay, follow me,” I stuttered as I led him past the weeping people in the corner.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the killing glare he turned on who must be his parents, and I barely contained a shiver.
Doing my best to ignore the intimidating man at my back, I led him down the hallway and started my usual chatter about the funeral home, and what the company’s goal was.
When we finally made it to the first viewing room, I was extremely relieved to find that the other fifteen men didn’t follow us.
“Do you have any special requests on what you’d like to see?” I asked him.
“Actually, I’d like to see the very back room. We have a lot of people coming, and I’d like as much privacy as possible,” He said.
So it went. I showed him what he wanted, and he asked questions.
Then the officer and his dog showed, freezing me in my tracks.
My lungs froze in my throat, and I about had a panic attack on the spot.
It didn’t help, either, that the dog was going nuts, barking and straining at the officer’s hold.
Everything seemed to dim out, and I stared in horror at the man and his dog.
“How do you get to the back?” The police officer all but snarled at me.
I started at the question, stepping back until my back hit the podium and I could go no further.
With a shaky hand, I held up my finger and pointed towards a door that was partially covered by a long curtain at the back of the room.
The man’s big arms strained to hold the dog back, and finally, he let the dog go.
The dog dashed off, shooting like an arrow towards the door, only to come to a stop with barely restrained violence.
I watched it all in a fog. What the hell was going on?
When the K-9 officer arrived at the door, he cursed and bellowed at me.
But my eyes and mind were no longer on the man yelling at me, but on the man who’d just entered the room.
He was wearing his badge on his left hip and his semiautomatic Colt .45 on his other. He had a black polo shirt tucked into his jeans, and black sunglasses sitting on top of his head. His eyes were all for the dog though, completely disregarding me.
I was going to be sick.
My neighbor was a cop.
“Ma’am,” the K-9 officer snapped at me. “Come open this door.”
His demanding voice brought me out of the sinking hole of seeing the one person that I’d felt attracted to in years was a cop. Exactly like the one who’d nearly raped me. My God, but he was even dressed the same.
Walking quickly to the man and holding my breath, I punched in the code to get to the back room and backed away quickly. Placing my back against the wall and pushing as far into the corner as I could to get, I deep breathed, hoping to hold off the panic attack that I could feel rushing me. I wasn’t successful. It consumed me.
Dropping down to my knees, I hunched my body over on itself and rocked back and forth, but I was too far gone.
The panic attack and memories had me now.
***
Ten years ago
“Oh, my God. I’m going to be in so much trouble,” I groaned under my breath.
I watched as the officer approached my car with strong confidant strides.
He was dressed in jeans, and a black t-shirt. He had his gun on one hip, and his badge on the other.
The bad thing was that not only was I speeding, but I was also out past the curfew that the city put on all new drivers ages sixteen to eighteen.
I had to be in by ten on weekdays and eleven on weekends; it was now two forty in the morning. Things were not looking up.
When he finally approached my passenger side door, I rolled the window down and looked at his scary face.
He didn’t really look like a cop, but who was I to say what a cop should look like
?
Although, I was fairly certain that unkempt beards were not on the list under professional.
“License and insurance,” the cop demanded sharply.
Handing him over the papers, I waited for him to walk back to the car, but he didn’t.
Instead, he stayed stooped down, staring at me.
“Step out of the car please. Have you been drinking?” He asked suspiciously.
Startled, I released the latch on my door and stood, walking to the back of the car.
He didn’t stop at the back of my car, though; he stopped at the back of his.
“Come over here and stand at the back of the car. Don’t move,” he instructed.
It was then that the scary factor started to kick in.
I was on a side street that ran beside the high school with no lights, and a police officer who wasn’t in uniform was way too close to me for comfort.
Did everyone have to step out of the car as I did? What was he going to make me do?
Thoughts flitted through my head at a mile a minute, and when he started to walk closer to me, my uncertainty became a full fledge panic.
“I’m n-not comfortable being this close to you.” I stuttered.
He smiled at me. The only thing I was able to see were the whites of his eyes and his sparkling white teeth. Which was why I was able to see the evil grin that overtook his face just before he grabbed me by the waist and sat me on the hood of his car.
“It’s okay, darling,” he said. “I’ll take really good care of you.”
When I started to struggle, his superior strength easily overtook any pitiful strength of mine.
He proceeded to wedge his body in between my legs.
“Are you aware of how fast you were going?” When I didn’t reply, he put his hand around my wrist and broke it.
Just that easy. One quick squeeze and it snapped like a dry piece of spaghetti in his big hand.
That was when I screamed.
The pain was excruciating. So excruciating that I had my pants down around my ankles before I even registered he was trying to remove them.
Keys To My Cuffs (The Heroes of The Dixie Wardens MC Book 4) Page 3