Biker B*tch

by ANDIE J. CHRISTOPHER

  He whistled in appreciation. “Your drawers never get old, babe. Are those cutouts?”

  She turned around and returned his lazy smile. Her hair fell over her face and shoulders to hide the slight blush that always crept up under his blatant appreciation. She crawled across the bed and pressed her breasts to his chest, loving the feel of his hair against her nipples. A shiver went up her spine when she felt the strain of his muscles against the scarves. She considered untying him so she could feel his hands on her, but thought better of it. This might be the only time she got to have her way with him.

  She kissed him, pushing her tongue inside and exploring. She loved the taste of his cock mixed with the taste of his mouth. He didn’t hesitate or hold back like some guys would. Even though he was tied up, he plundered her. She broke away and brushed kisses on the skin inside his biceps. It was his turn to shiver, and goose bumps rose on his skin.

  “Ticklish?”

  “Nah. It’s that mouth. It gives me chills.” She kept kissing him, catching his scent under his arms.

  Good lord, I’m in trouble if his sweat smells good. He was shaking and thrusting his hips toward hers, so she stood up on her knees and shimmied out of her panties. Travis’s grin turned feral and she could see his chest rising and falling more rapidly.

  “I love that you don’t wax.” It was just like him to say that. Frank and open about what he wanted. It was a wonder she ever thought he was anything like her dad: patron saint of lies and secret lives. Travis wore all his scary on the outside. He wasn’t simple, but he was always clear—even about something as weird as liking her pubic hair.

  “I had too many guys ask if the carpet matched the drapes.”

  His eyes got a little hard. “I don’t want to think about other guys and your carpet when you’re about to fuck me.”

  “Who said I’m about to fuck you?”

  “That wet pussy I can feel on my thigh.” He was right. She was so wet from all the fighting, the Harley ride, and making her man so hot. And having him in her mouth, begging for her. She rocked against his thigh as a final tease and grabbed a condom. She thought about rolling it on with her mouth, but she didn’t think he’d last that long. And she had to get hers, too.

  She hovered above him for a moment until he made an incoherent pleading noise, and she sank onto him. Every time they were together, she was surprised how well he filled her up on the first stroke. From this angle, he felt even larger. She took a moment to adjust, then rocked her hips enough to give them both some friction.

  She’d been so focused on taking over his body and his senses, she hadn’t even noticed that her own body was about to explode. Every time she moved against him, her clit hit his pubic bone and sent sparks up her spine. She picked up speed, moving faster and faster, racing toward an orgasm that could probably level a city block.

  “Love it when your tits bounce like that. Gonna let you be on top more often.” His voice was broken and low. She felt him swell even more inside her and knew he was close. She rolled her hips sharply, digging her nails into his stomach. He flexed beneath her, pushing himself deeper, using his heels for leverage.

  She hovered on the edge of climax, still for an instant before she went over, shaking and panting. She felt like her body was turned inside out. He came the instant after her. She could feel the heat of him through the condom. She’d never had a man bare inside her, but she wanted to feel that close to him. It was a frightening thought. She’d never let anyone into her heart either, and he was on the threshold. Part of her wanted to argue that he was already there.

  She eased off him and got rid of the condom. She didn’t look into his eyes until he said, “Hey, are you okay?”

  She smiled at him, strained. “Yeah.”

  “You going to untie me?”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “So I can cuddle you like an old lady as fine as you deserves.”

  “I’m your old lady, am I?” She untied him and he rubbed his wrists for a hot second before he rolled her underneath him.

  “Damn right, you are.”

  In that moment, she decided she might as well just go with it.

  16

  Travis watched her from across Main Street, which was closed off for the farmers’ market. Traffic jammed up on all the cross streets with tourists trying to get through. A lot of them would give up and wander through the stalls, spending money liberally because of the wineries offering free tastings.

  Skyler, Sara, and his mom worked the bakery’s booth. He’d pouted when Skyler told him she was hanging out with Sara the day after she’d turned him the fuck out. She could tie him up anytime she wanted to.

  He’d always liked to be in charge during sex. But, then again, none of the women he’d ever been with were as substantial as Skyler. He loved just laying in bed and talking to her. She was so damned smart. Had ideas about how to market his business, and she remembered more about bikes and machines than he would have thought. She must have paid attention when she’d followed him and his brother around.

  And she was going to make something of the winery. Whenever she talked about it, she lit up. It had never been like that for his parents. His dad had wanted to strike it rich in the mid-70s when California wines started getting some respect. But he didn’t really love the land. Skyler, on the other hand, paid loving attention to every step of the growing and fermenting process. She’d even been able to salvage some of the wine that renters had made in the past few years into something even he could admit didn’t totally suck. She was going to be around for a long while.

  Skyler smiled as she poured coffee and wrapped pastries for her friend’s customers. She laughed and chatted like she hadn’t been gone for a decade. It was good to see her happy. So good that he didn’t even notice Deacon approach until the guy was right in front of him. The last guy he wanted to see.

  But he lifted his chin anyway. He had a feeling Deacon was out to grab power in the Diablos Santos. If they were on decent terms, Travis and the other Sinners would have more information to feed the sheriff’s department, just like Ethan had asked him. And, if he knew what Deacon was up to, he could keep Skyler safe. As long as they didn’t get fingered as snitches. Snitches ended up dead.

  “Deacon.”

  “Can I have a minute?”

  “Just.”

  Deacon laughed, and for an instant, he didn’t look like a cold-blooded killer. Travis recognized him as the kid he’d played t-ball with, and wondered what the hell happened to him after he’d left town. Probably wasn’t going to get any answers.

  “What crawled up your ass and died?”

  Travis shrugged. “You.”

  “I know you have something going with the sheriff. That’s why you knew about the trailer park.”

  “Trailer park?” He was smart enough to play dumb.

  “Yeah, just happened to take a rest after a long ride in the middle of hell’s waiting room?”

  “Not your business if we did.”

  “I disagree.”

  So, Deacon wanted to warn him away from messing with their operations in town? As it was, Deacon wouldn’t risk getting the Diablos in legal trouble by offing a favorite local son. After Doc got sent up on murder charges, the Diablos got smart and changed their business and ran protection on drug runs, but had stayed out of the actual distribution chain.

  Did Deacon’s warning signal a change? He wasn’t acting like a transporter, he was acting like the kingpin.

  “So, you’re getting back in the mix?”

  “Not your business if we are.” Deacon scrubbed a hand over his stubble-covered head. “I’m gonna have to do this the hard way, aren’t I?”

  “The fuck are you trying to do?”

  Deacon tilted his head toward Skyler—who picked the worst possible moment to look over at them—and tipped his chin. She blanched, and fear punched Travis in the gut. What had Deacon done to put that look on his woman’s face? He’d have to ask her about it later.
Whatever it was, the other guy was about to sorely regret it.

  He stood up and started toward Deacon. They were about the same height, and Travis was less than a foot away when he said, “You fuck with her, we’ve got problems.”

  Deacon didn’t back up. “That’s what I was saying; we’ve already ‘got problems.’ You need to let this one go.”

  Problem was, Travis couldn’t let this kind of thing go. Ever. He had allowed his brother’s partying, the drugs, the petty crimes to go on for too long. He could have kicked some sense into his brother’s ass before he got himself killed by a group of violent thugs. He should have kicked his brother’s ass before Isaac became a violent thug himself.

  “I can’t.”

  “Even if you lose that little redheaded cockwarmer because of your crusade?”

  Rage and fear coalesced inside him. He’d kill this man in front of the whole fucking town if he didn’t get his shit on lockdown in the next ten seconds. Then, he’d find every Diablos Santos in Sebastopol and kill them, too. Just for one of them thinking about hurting a hair on Skyler’s head.

  Damn right he was gone for her. He’d risk joining her dad down at Chino just to keep her safe. Hopefully, it wouldn’t come to that.

  “Must be hard times for the Diablos if you’d risk your life just to save one cook spot.”

  They stared at each other for a long moment before Deacon raised his hands and backed up. “I never said it was a cook spot, man. You came to that conclusion all on your lonesome.”

  “Still, I’m serious about the life-risking thing.”

  He still stood in the same spot, ready to fight. His right hand twitched, as if it wanted to clock Deacon independent of Travis’s control. A few tourists sidestepped the tableau. They were smart, unlike the motherfucker standing in front of him.

  Deacon laughed again, but this time it sounded nervous. “Listen, man, this is not coming from me. I just want what’s best for the club—for both of our clubs.”

  “You think signing your death warrant is what’s best for both our clubs?” Travis asked.

  Deacon held his hands up in front of him. “Jesus, man. Calm the fuck down. You’re the one threatening murder. I’m just telling you not to pull this thread. Again.”

  “You, of anyone, know I can’t do that. Isn’t that why you left? Didn’t you hope to avoid this shit?”

  Deacon’s nostrils flared and he pressed his lips together into a hard line. “Fuck, man. This is now. I just don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

  “Then why are you threatening my old lady?”

  “Would you rather I threaten the Foundry?”

  “Fuck. Yes.”

  “Consider it threatened.”

  Deacon turned and walked down a side street with his shoulders hunched at a fast clip. Not like a guy who knew he had the upper hand.

  Travis fought the urge to grab Skyler, put her on the back of his bike, and ride far enough that this wouldn’t touch them. He couldn’t do that to her; she’d just come home, and she deserved to be safe here.

  Could he let the meth shit go? Knowing it would just open the door to more and eat away at the fabric of this town—the life he’d built here? The one he was starting to think he was building with Carrots?

  He hoped he wouldn’t have to make that choice.

  Skyler lost the thread of conversation she’d been having with Grace from the feed store when she saw Travis and Deacon together. At first, they’d looked friendly, and, honestly, that worried her more than when things got demonstrably tense. Even after all these years, she could recognize when Travis was about to lose his temper. His right hand twitched.

  She managed to smile and give Grace her change before looking back at the two men.

  Travis had got right in Deacon’s face after Deacon looked over at the bakery table and winked. That made her stomach turn, but she tried to convince herself that it wasn’t her business.

  Maybe they were catching up and this wasn’t about biker shit? They’d all been friends back in the day.

  “Travis is not a Diablo,” Sara said, right up close to her ear so Debbie wouldn’t here.

  “I know.” Skyler kept her voice down, too. “I just—he just—makes me nervous.”

  “Deacon?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Me, too.” Sara leaned in even closer. “He would be super sexy if he didn’t belong to a group of sociopaths.”

  Skyler wanted to laugh, but she couldn’t think of any circumstances under which super-scary Deacon would be sexy. And, by the looks of him, he was definitely into some weird sex shit.

  “I hope I never have to field a call about you being chained in a basement somewhere.”

  Sara giggled and they both looked over to make sure Debbie wasn’t listening in. Deacon left Travis standing there, still looking pissed, but in one piece.

  Skyler took a deep breath. She couldn’t worry about that now when she was trying to put her best foot forward in front of Debbie by being community-minded and all.

  When she had volunteered to help Sara at the farmers’ market, she had no idea Debbie would be there, too. If she’d known, she probably would have made sure to be busy. Even though Debbie had extended an olive branch, it was awkward to hang out with a woman close enough to be her mother now that she was sleeping with her son. And everyone in town knew it.

  The whole morning, as she was selling Sara’s award-winning jam and desserts, she fielded knowing smiles and winks from little old ladies and lecherous looks from a few of their husbands.

  “Everyone in town knows you’re getting some from Sebastopol’s most eligible.” Sara’s words were quiet again, out of Debbie’s earshot.

  “It’s mortifying.”

  “The sex? I hope not.”

  “No, that part’s—ah—I can’t talk about it in front of her.”

  “Thank you for not going into lascivious detail about sex with my son. Though I do hope I raised him to be a generous lover.”

  Skyler ducked her head and winced. She had to be yanking her chain right now. Debbie’s lips twitched as though she fought a smile. The crowd had slowed down enough for Skyler to plop down on a stool and bury her face in her hands, trying to control the blush that stole across her skin.

  “From what I hear, that’s a yes.” Michael had impeccable timing.

  Skyler stood up and made her way out of the tent. “I’m going to use the bathroom at the bakery, okay?

  Sara was hardly keeping a laugh in. If Skyler hadn’t seen Travis with Deacon, she might be inclined to think it was funny, too. And his mom thought it was hilarious. She felt like she was living in bizarro world.

  Michael caught up to her and wrapped his arm around her waist. She rested her head on his shoulder.

  “So,” he said when they entered the closed bakery. Sara set up shop in the farmers’ market every Saturday so people didn’t have to go out of their way to buy. Smart businesswoman.

  “So?”

  Michael looked guilty about something and she narrowed her eyes at him.

  “Ian’s coming up from the city.”

  The bottom dropped out from her stomach again. Why on earth would her ex-boyfriend be dropping by for a visit? Wasn’t he busy enough gentrifying San Francisco? She did not want to see him. She would just make herself scarce. “Why?”

  “His dad’s company is the primary investor in that new retail space, the Barlow, and I sort of told him you’d be interested in a stall for the winery.”

  Her expression was probably really scary right then because Michael looked ready to duck under one of the tables.

  “I can’t work with him. He’s an awful person. I mean, I love him to death, but he is a terrible human.”

  “We need this. It would take care of at least two years’ worth of harvest. I’d recoup my investment much sooner this way.” Michael had always been a smart businessman first and foremost.

  “He’s also Satan.”

  “C’mon, stop being such a drama
queen.”

  “You don’t know him like I do.”

  Why did it have to be Ian’s family investing in the Barlow? They couldn’t find any not-evil development companies? The Barlow was going to be really good for Sebastopol, but having Ian around would be nothing but trouble for her. She didn’t need that kind of complication right now.

  “And you won’t even have to deal with him much. I’ll run interference.”

  “Oh, yeah, you will. I’ll kill him. Murder. I’ll be in jail just like my dad.”

  “You exaggerate.”

  “Remember homecoming senior year? You know, when he dumped me so he could bring Neeta, who got so drunk she puked on my feet. And he laughed?”

  “Do you remember the part where you had sex with him again two weeks later? I think you’re afraid of yourself here, sweetheart.”

  Was she? Based on her behavior with Travis, she hadn’t gotten smarter about men in the last six years. Once she was in, she was in until things burned out or she left town. Would she be tempted to fall back in with Ian?

  “Absolutely no chance of that. You didn’t know what it was like with him.”

  “You guys were in college. It won’t be bad. I’m sure he’s matured.”

  “Probably into something worse.” She made for the women’s bathroom and he followed her, perching on the edge of a sink.

  “Do you remember how gone I was on him?” When they’d first become friends, she’d thought Ian had really understood her. They’d stayed up late and talked until dawn about everything. And the sex had been above average for a frat boy.

  “I tried to warn you. Rich boys are always evil at their cores.” Ian came from a wealthy, New York banking family and had claimed to feel misunderstood. Bullshit. “He wasn’t good enough for you, sweetheart. He still isn’t. Do you remember how he used to joke around to his friends about how he got lucky finding a girl who just looked anorexic?”

  “Don’t remind me. I really could fucking kill him. And I’m supposed to work with him?”