Biker B*tch

by ANDIE J. CHRISTOPHER

  When her mother died, Bishman got her dad to get a Harley because it was his therapy. Bishman couldn’t have known Jacob would break bad and start running drugs. Before her mother died, Doc Clark had been a mild-mannered guy with wire-frame glasses and a good bedside manner. She’d idolized her father, planned to follow in his footsteps to become a doctor. She’d often felt like his patients got the best of him.

  Seeing Bishman brought it all welling back up, but she couldn’t be mad at him. He’d done nothing wrong. He’d left the club when they got in deep with the cartel.

  “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes, baby girl. You look just like your mama.” Skyler blushed. Bishman was short, with a beard, scraggly hair, and a paunch. Sort of like an elf mixed with badass biker dude.

  “Uncle Bishman. It’s good to see you. Where’ve you been?” And it really was. After everything happened with her dad and Travis, he’d driven her to the airport and given her a hug goodbye, along with an envelope full of cash for some spending money during the first year of college. She might be apprehensive about getting too involved with bikers again, but Bishman was part of her heart.

  “Been spending time in Arizona in the winter.” When he smiled at her, his eyes crinkled up at the edges. “Save a dance for me?” He squeezed her arm and started to tunnel his way through the crowd for a drink.

  “Of course.”

  “Good to see you home, baby girl.” Her chest squeezed with the endearment.

  She finished her beer and headed to the bathroom, happy that Travis’s friends seemed to approve of them. She didn’t know why, but she wanted them to like her. It was more important than it should be.

  She was so preoccupied with her own thoughts she didn’t notice Ginger following her into the ladies’ room until she saw pink hair in the mirror behind her. From the sour look on the woman’s face, she wasn’t in the bathroom for girl talk, so Skyler went ahead into a stall. She didn’t want to get a dressing down while she had to pee.

  “You’re just the flavor of the month, you know?”

  So, Ginger wasn’t even going to let her urinate in peace?

  Skyler finished and left the stall. She started washing her hands and said, “For the moment. You’re last month’s flavor, aren’t you?” She raised her eyebrow. “I understand why you’re pissed. He’s quite something.”

  Jesus, what had flipped Ginger’s shit? A few weeks ago, she was giving her blessing. Now, she was acting like Skyler had kicked her puppy. Maybe it was seeing her and Travis really together that had set her off.

  Ginger walked forward until she was close behind her. “Wipe that smug look off your face, rich girl. He probably whispers promises about all the dirty things he’ll do to you while he’s fucking you, doesn’t he?” The color drained out of her face, and the other woman continued. “Yeah, that’s his move. It’s still filthy, but it makes you feel like he’s only like that with you. Like he belongs with you. Well, he doesn’t. As soon as you fall for him, he’ll move on to something new and shiny.”

  Ginger could probably see the body blow she’d delivered all over Skyler’s face; she crossed her arms over her voluminous bosom and pushed her way through the saloon-style doors and back into the bar.

  Skyler leaned on the counter. She knew better. No man could become such an expert lover without a whole hell of a lot of experience. Regardless of what she’d said to Ginger during their first meeting, the confrontation had brought her right back to high school.

  Just like with all those women before, he’d said what he’d needed to—whatever it took to get her into bed. And she’d fallen for it. She’d actually begun to think they were about more than sex because the sex was so good. But how could they be when that’s all they ever did? And then he’d get his fill of her and move on, just like he always did.

  She walked out of the bathroom with resolve: keep things light and keep herself detached. No more melting into his possessive touches and caring about what his friends thought.

  He was standing at the bar, laughing at something Duster said. The way he stood, a beer bottle casually held between two fingers, rocked back on his heels, got her every damned time. She wasn’t about to give up all the good sex; she’d have to be a moron to do that.

  Travis grabbed Skyler’s hands when she surprised him and came up behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist. Unless they were fucking, she usually didn’t initiate touching him. It had started to bother him that she wasn’t affectionate. He wanted to touch her all the time. She belonged to him. The fact that she didn’t touch him told him that she didn’t believe that yet. He was glad she might be starting to believe.

  He pulled her to his front and wrapped his arms around her. He leaned close to her ear. “We’re planning a ride down to Santa Cruz for a camping weekend in a month and a half, you in?”

  He felt her body stiffen. “We’ll see. Might be busy at the vineyard.” The words were brittle, and he wanted to melt away the tension he sensed in her. He rubbed his face against her neck, loving the little bit of sweat scent there. It reminded him of when he was taking her from behind. He’d wanted to take her on a date to show the whole town she was his woman. But now he wanted to leave. He wanted to get her alone and peel those jeans off. “You ready to go?”

  She turned in his arms. “So soon? I was just about to order a shot of tequila. You want?” Her eyes sparkled mischievously, but there was something dull about the set of her mouth.

  “You go ahead, babe. But I’ve got to get us home without wrecking.” Something was up with her. If that something was going to get her a little drunk and a little wild in bed, he was all about it.

  “I’ll do a shot with you, love,” Duster said. He looped one of his massive arms over her shoulders. Travis couldn’t quell the pang of jealousy he felt at seeing his friend touch her. The only reason he didn’t act was because Duster was a brother. He wouldn’t mess with Skyler, at least not for any other reason than to piss him off a bit.

  He watched them and sipped his beer while Skyler’s throat worked to take down the shot in one pull and her mouth pursed around the lime. The bar was loud, so he couldn’t hear what she said to make Duster laugh.

  Duster had laughed more tonight than in most of the time he’d known him. To Travis, that meant Skyler being here was a good thing.

  Bishman sidled up to him, a knowing look on his face. “You’ve got it bad, brother.”

  Travis looked over at his friend, hesitant to take his eyes of Skyler even though he knew she was safe. Chevy had joined her and Duster at the bar, and they flanked her. Having her around his club made him feel good. It quieted the intensity of his urge to protect her against all enemies when he was amongst friends—family, really.

  “Best trouble I’ve ever been in.”

  Bishman laughed. With his long beard and belly that hung over his waistband, he was like a badass Santa Claus. He was the oldest member of the Sinners, and Travis trusted him more than just about anybody. “The only thing about that girl that’s like Doc is her brain.”

  “Yeah, she’s sure as shit smarter than me. Lucky she’s not smart enough to avoid me.”

  “Why would she avoid you?”

  “She doesn’t want anything to do with a motorcycle club.”

  “Looks like she has plenty to do with one now.”

  Skyler threw back another shot and laughed. He was going to have to get her home soon, otherwise she’d fall asleep before they got the chance to have sex. Not happening.

  Just when he was about to go over to her and say their goodbyes, Ginger put her hand in his back pocket and squeezed. Skyler chose that moment to seek him out. It didn’t look good. Ginger’s hand was still on his backside and he was touching her wrist to pull her hand off him. To Skyler, it might look like he’d put her hand on his ass.

  “What the fuck is your problem, Ginger?” He didn’t want to humiliate her so his words were quiet. Unfortunately, that brought him closer to her face. And she obviously still had a thi
ng for him.

  Skyler’s eyes narrowed and her hands were in fists. He dropped Ginger’s wrist and stepped away as he much as he could in the crowded bar, which wasn’t far enough.

  It was too late; Skyler pushed past Bishman and made for the door. He saw her red hair bobbing and weaving through tables, but couldn’t wedge himself between the other patrons fast enough to beat her outside. And where was she going to go? She wasn’t about to walk the miles back to the winery in those boots of hers.

  When he got out of Ed’s and into the quiet night, she was about a hundred yards down Main Street. She was going to walk home. She was crazier than he thought.

  He hopped on his bike and rode up next to her. He slowed and tracked her, thinking that she’d break down eventually and hop on back.

  She didn’t even look at him. Her arms were crossed over her chest, purse clutched to her side. Her hair caught the light from the street lamps and bounced with each emphatic step.

  “Get on, babe.”

  Silence.

  “You’re not going to walk all the way the fuck home.”

  Still nothing but side-eye.

  “It’s fucking dark; you could get hit by a car.”

  She turned to him then and stopped. “Why the fuck do you care?”

  It was his turn to offer stony silence. How dare she accuse him of not caring for her well-being? He could think of little else, and it was really messing with his shit. He never cared one way or another about a woman beyond the orgasm he gave her. And this bitch thought she could lead him around by the dick and make wild assumptions?

  “Nothing happened with Ginger.”

  “Sure looked like nothing.” She threw her hands up. “You couldn’t even wait until you were done with me to move on to the next thing? The next old and bitchy thing.”

  “The only thing bitchy is your fucking attitude. Has been since the moment you came back, always acting like you’re too good for this town.” Too good for him.

  “No. I just don’t like being humiliated. Especially by that girl.”

  This woman made no sense. He was tempted to ride back to Ed’s and drink enough beer to forget about her. She was the one flirting with other dudes while she was on a date with him.

  “You were the one all over Duster.”

  “Excuse me. I was making nice with your buddies. I thought that was what you wanted.” He couldn’t see her eyes in the dark, but he knew she was spitting mad by the snappy cant of her hips as her feet ate up the gravel on the side of Main Street.

  He had to get a handle on this. “I did…I do.”

  “Then what’s with the jealous, macho shit? I’m not a possession that you can control. I’m not like your Dyna.”

  She hit the side of his bike with the back of one hand.

  “Don’t you think I know that?” They had both stopped moving under the “Sebastopol—Nuclear Free Zone” sign. The streetlights didn’t illuminate her face and she looked like a stone sculpture in the shadows. Just waiting for him to make a move and give her an excuse to walk away from him for good. Busting her balls about making nice with Duster wasn’t helping him. But the way he felt about her wasn’t something he could control. It was bigger than him, and he hated that feeling.

  It was the reason he liked machines more than grapes. With a machine, he had the ultimate control to shape how it would perform. Tighten this piece. Loosen that one. And change the whole experience of riding.

  While being with Skyler gave him a bigger thrill than anything he’d ever made, he couldn’t control her. On the outside, she was all badass-tomboy tough. But inside, she ran deeper than anyone suspected. Fact that she was jealous of Ginger touching him, that must mean he meant more to her than a fling. She wanted him more than she would admit.

  “I’m sorry about Ginger. I should have slapped her hand away.”

  Travis’s apology stopped her short and melted some of the anger from her chest. When Ginger had put her hands on him, she’d seen red. She knew in that instant this wasn’t playtime anymore; her plan to keep things from getting too serious would not work. This wasn’t her cute, adolescent crush. This was grown-up stuff and, when this ended, she was going to have real heartache.

  He stopped the bike and they looked at each other. She couldn’t see the contours of his face.

  “I don’t want her. If I did, I’d be back in there with her.” His face softened.

  Maybe he had real feelings, too. She didn’t want to start a big talk because she was afraid she’d say everything she was feeling. That would probably scare him away.

  A part of her also wanted to punish him a bit for letting Ginger touch him. So, after she put on a helmet, she wordlessly got on the bike and dug her fingers into his stomach. She kicked him in the calf for good measure.

  He was on board with the silent treatment because he revved the idling bike and took off for the winery. The bike seemed almost angry through the whole ride, the vibration of the engine jarring her bones and shaking her up from the inside out.

  Skyler almost jumped off when he pulled up to the trailer. Once he turned off the engine, the nighttime silence in the valley, the mist that would turn to dew by morning, and the tension between them coalesced into a soup. Even in the dark, she could feel his gaze on her as she walked up the steps, but he didn’t move.

  “You’re not coming in?” she asked, bewildered.

  “I don’t know if you want me to. Mood I’m in, I just might break you in half.”

  She smiled. He thought he could break her. She realized then he hadn’t taken off the kid gloves ever since the first night at Ed’s. He thought she liked to be handled gently. But she’d wanted him so long because of the way he was looking at her now—intense and singularly focused. She craved him now because of the sureness of his touch. Strong, but under total control. Her body was like one of his bikes; he knew all the right buttons to rev her up. Jealousy was one of those buttons.

  “How about I tie you down to keep that from happening?”

  He swung his leg over and was up the stairs within seconds of her question. She could see him then. All his mad had faded and there was that predatory look in his eyes. Too bad he was the one about to get eaten.

  “Whatever you want, babe.”

  Fun times. Skyler waggled her brows at him, grabbed the cuff of his shirt, and pulled him into the trailer. He tried to pull her into his arms and kiss her, but she knew that would lead to him taking over and to her feeling like she was the one being taken. Right now, she needed to take him, have him, and work him up like he worked her. She was always so out of her mind with the way he touched her, she rarely just got to watch him come. And she wanted that.

  He released her right away when she pushed against his chest. His breath was fast, just like hers. She pulled on the end of his goatee.

  “Take your clothes off and lie on the bed.”

  The grin came back, and he quickly complied. She dug into one of her drawers and found a couple of sturdy wool scarves that would hold him to the bed. By the time she turned around, he was bare and laid out for her pleasure. His cock was so hard that it tapped his belly.

  “Put your hands up.”

  “Or what?” He jerked his chin at the scarves in her hand.

  “You know what.”

  “I’m pretty sure I won’t be able to keep my hands to myself when you take off that top.” Her nipples pebbled under his gaze. Her body wanted her to rip her clothes right off and get underneath him. After seeing Ginger touching him, she needed to brand him. To see the control she had over him. That only she had.

  She sauntered over to him and grabbed his wrists. Thankfully, she still remembered a few knots from her one school year with the Brownies, before her mother died and—and she wasn’t going there tonight. Things had changed. She could be a little bad with this man because, despite the tattoos and leather, he was good. She’d known it all along, but it had finally sunk in.

  Right then, he was being an exceptionally g
ood boy and deserved a reward. After she’d secured him to the bedrail, she rubbed her fingers across his beard and lightly on his lips. She kissed him, too anxious to get him in her mouth to spend much time on the kiss. She backed up and rubbed her cheek against his dick. He was so hard and ready that his cock moved toward her face like a divining stick.

  She licked the head and he groaned. “Aw, babe.”

  “Shhh. I’m busy.” She sucked the head into her mouth, getting him wet with her saliva. He tasted good mixed with tequila and lime. Maybe he was her new favorite flavor of margarita.

  “God, Carrots, you’re torturing me.”

  “You don’t even know what torture is yet, baby.” With that, she took as much of him as she could in her mouth. She wrapped her fingers around his base and pumped in time with each suck. Every few strokes, she looked up at his face. His eyes were squeezed shut and he was lost. His jaw was set as if he was working really hard to keep his grip on … something. She wanted to drive his control right out of him; she wanted to break him like he’d broken her. His abdominal muscles flexed in time to each lick and stroke. His hands formed fists around the scarves.

  “Oh, shit. Fuck. Right there.” He growled and swelled in her mouth when she ran her tongue over the cleft right beneath the head of his cock. She tasted the beginning of his orgasm right before she pulled away. It took him a moment to register that she wasn’t going to go back for more right away; then he opened his eyes, and said, “What are you doing?”

  By then, Skyler had taken off her top and her bra. He seemed mollified by her boobs. “I thought you wanted torture.”

  He’d come down a little by then, no longer hanging off the ledge. His grin came back and she wanted to kiss it off his face. Tonight, she needed him at the point where he’d say anything—do anything—to get her to make him come. She pulled off her boots, turned around, and lowered her jeans so he could get a good view of her ass. She’d worn some of her naughtiest French lingerie because she knew they’d end up here.