Joyride

by DD Prince

  ***

  I loved the feeling of riding on the back of his motorcycle. Something about it was so soothing. And I shouldn’t be on the back of his bike because of how deeply I loved it. It wasn’t just the mode of transportation. It was him and me on that bike. Together. Like we were a unit. A Rider and Jenna unit. But all the way back to the clubhouse, I reveled in it. I let myself feel it. I let myself muse with What If. What if this was real? What if I was really his? And what if I didn’t have to guard myself?

  He had my back with my mother. He helped sort things out for the salon while I was away as well as Kendra’s wedding. He was dealing with all my abuse toward him in order to make sure no one raped and killed me.

  How would riding his bike with him feel if I had let go of my fears? How amazing would it be to be with him, carefree?

  Far too soon, we were back at the clubhouse gates and I noticed the yellow tape was gone, as we went in that way. Two prospects, one that I’d seen back in Aberdeen, but couldn’t recall where, maybe Deke’s Roadhouse, opened them for us.

  When Rider turned the bike off, the other guy stepped up and shook his hand in what looked like a complicated bro-shake.

  “Great job on it,” he said.

  “It’s sick!” Another few bikers approached. “Swear to God you’d never know it wasn’t from sixty years ago. Dress your babe like a pin-up, buddy. Do a photo shoot and you’ll sell a shitload of these.”

  I got off of it, looking at the bike, seeing what the fuss was about. I’d thought it was a great bike, figured he’d maybe had a classic, or restored it himself. I didn’t know it was a custom-made new bike. He’d told me he did custom bikes. This was one of them? He was talented.

  “Thanks, man,” Rider said somewhat solemnly and moved me forward. “My babe’s gotta get outta these heels. They’re hurtin’ her feet. See you guys in a few.”

  He moved me forward toward the building.

  I was really looking forward to getting out of these shoes. But, all I had with me were the Converse I’d had on my feet when I got kidnapped from Ella’s room. Would it be frowned upon if I changed clothes? Maybe I could just hang out in the room and skip this luncheon.

  “Blow,” he said to a guy inside the door and they hugged with back slaps.

  “Just got here. Ran late. This her?” The guy asked. He was a tall, muscled fair-haired guy in his mid to upper 30s with piercing grey eyes. He reached for me and lifted me up off the ground, making me gasp as he hugged me.

  He gently set me back on my feet.

  “Yeah,” Rider said, and I glanced over my shoulder and saw Rider had a little smile on his face.

  “You Aberdeen girls are legendary!” the guy said. “Chaining unchainable Valentines? They’re droppin’ like flies. First Deacon, then Ride? Spency!” he hollered.

  Spencer made his way over from a crowd of bikers who were sitting at picnic tables smoking and talking, drinking beers, over to us.

  “You hitch your wagon to an Aberdeen star yet?”

  Spencer snickered, taking a haul off his cigarette. “Not yet. Gonna up my game, though. All the good ones’re getting snatched up fast.”

  “Jenna. Blow, also known as Sean O’Grady. He’ll be our VP at home…" Rider started the introduction.

  “If he ever gets his ass in gear,” Deke added, and approached Blow and they did the biker hug back slap and bro-shake thing.

  “See you guys in a minute. Jenna needs more comfortable shoes.”

  “Eh…” Deke said and approached Rider. He hooked a hand behind Rider’s neck and kissed his forehead.

  “Love you,” Deke said to Rider.

  “Love you,” Rider replied, gruffly.

  I choked up. Audibly. Shit. I had to hold it together.

  Deke put his arm around me and gave me a kiss on the cheek and then squeezed my free hand.

  I gave him a bit of a watery smile, almost losing it. What an emotional day. It was taking everything in me to hold tears in. I wanted a hot bubble bath, a bath bomb with sparkles, and to sit and cry it out.

  I had no idea when that’d happen.

  “I set you up, honey,” The lady, Delia, I’d met the day before, the mouth-kissing one, said, moving past the doorway, which was propped open. She had a steaming lasagna tray in her hands, just a towel around it; she wasn’t wearing oven mitts. Eek. “Another pair of shoes on your bed.”

  “Oh. Thank you,” I said. How did she know?

  “Go take time to rest those feet and then come give us a hand in the kitchen,” she informed me and moved along.

  I saw that long tables were set up with all sorts of food and many funeral garb-wearing biker women were coming in and out, bringing more food.

  Rider led us through the throng of people, most of which gave him a wide berth or just a chin lift. His exit from the funeral home would’ve spoken volumes and it was heartwarming that they seemed to respect that and were giving him space.

  As soon as we were down a few hallways and no one was around, I said, “Wait.” We stopped, and I used his arm for stability as I got Jojo’s shoes off. My poor, poor feet.

  “Texted Delia to find you something for your feet.”

  “That’s how she knew. Thank you,” I said softly.

  Wow. He was showing himself to be pretty thoughtful. I’d been hoping to use my sore feet as a reason to stay in the room and avoid human interaction, but I guess I’d have to make an appearance.

  At least I’d been summoned to the kitchen, so I’d get some distance from him. From him and all he was making me feel. I didn’t know how much more sweetness I could take before I just threw myself into his arms and surrendered. No, not just surrendering --- declaring myself his love slave.

  Inside our room, I saw a pair of new black thong flip flops on the end of the unmade bed, tags still on them. They were thick, like memory foam, the part that went between the toes was velvety, and I was sure they would feel wonderful.

  He pulled his glasses off and grabbed a bottle of vodka sitting on the chair at the side of the unmade bed and took a swig and then flopped back.

  I guess he’d gotten that after I vacated last night.

  I saw that my stuff, or rather the stuff Jojo had lent me, was back in here. That made me want to fume a bit, but my angry resolve was fading.

  I went into the bathroom and pulled the now-ruined stockings off, checked my make-up, used the facilities, and then I came back out and was trying to separate the flip flops, which were held together with one of those plastic loops. It was proving difficult and I didn’t want to break them. I heard a click and saw he was holding out a big knife, that he’d switched open.

  I lifted the shoes over the exposed blade and brought them down and it cut through the plastic loop like butter.

  “Thanks,” I muttered and separated them. He closed the switchblade and dropped it onto an opened black gym bag on the floor.

  I put the flip flops on, glad that my pedicure from Saturday night pedicures with Pippa and Bronto was still fairly intact and that I wasn’t rocking Frodo feet or anything.

  “Come here,” he said.

  I looked at him.

  He was lying there, on his back. He opened up his arms.

  I stared.

  “Please?” he asked.

  I sat on the side of the bed instead of climbing on top of him, like I wanted to do.

  “I wanna talk about this,” he stated, eyes serious.

  “This?” I asked stupidly. Wanting, wishing I could touch his smooth face, which he’d shaved for the funeral. It looked so good.

  “Us.”

  I blinked. “Who was the blonde?”

  He gave his head a shake, annoyed with me.

  “At the funeral home. The one you left me with Deacon to cart off,” I clarified.

  “I knew what you meant.”

  “And why did you---”

  “Are you interested in being with me?” he cut me off.

  “That’s not answering my question.”


  “If you’re with me, you can ask me questions like that. If you’re not, then it’s none of your business.”

  “If something about you is none of my business, then I’m none of your business and therefore you have no reason to keep me here,” I fired back.

  “You’re playin’ it that way?” he challenged. “Like you’re fine goin’ out there and putting yourself at risk knowing there was a direct threat against you? Mantis, Jackals’ Prez himself, called me personally to tell me just what they wanted to do to you. And I told you what they did to Edge’s woman, so you know he’s not blowin’ smoke.”

  I was being unreasonable; I knew I was. I was stubborn, though, and was feebly trying to hold my ground. My ground that wasn’t solid ground, it was quicksand.

  He must’ve seen it in my eyes and come to a decision. “Gianna, Kailey’s stepsister. She wasn’t welcome at the funeral now that I know she’s got family ties to the woman responsible for all this. I let her know that and got her out of there before she got in there.”

  “Jojo says she’s a great girl. Loves your club.” I was fuming because I was also thinking about the fact that Jojo told me the lovely Gia had been with all three of her brothers at least once each.

  He shrugged. “That may be true, but until all this shit is sorted, I’m not takin’ chances. Won’t be putting Joelle or you at risk. There’s shit goin’ down all around us. Moles in Aberdeen, even. The only good thing about the Roadhouse being closed right now is that it’s forcin’ us to keep to ourselves, rather than being under microscopes out in public. My dad’s not even thinkin’ about re-opening until things die down with this feud. Now, about us…”

  “Did you build that motorcycle?” I asked.

  He smirked. “Jenna.”

  I swallowed. “It’s beautiful.”

  “Thanks, gorgeous.”

  “I thought it was a classic. Something vintage. I don’t know anything about bikes, but it’s beautiful. You must be talented.”

  “Thanks, babe. Me and Spence. Not just my design.”

  “I’d better go help your Aunt Delia.”

  He watched me for a beat. “You okay to go help in the kitchen?”

  “Yeah,” I said, feeling relieved, thinking I was getting away with not having an ‘Us’ talk.

  “So, to give you the lay of the land, things’re not 21st century feminist-friendly around here. Especially right now. The women like to baby us at times like these. It gives them something to do when they feel powerless about loss. But, if Aunt Delia’s invited you to help, it means she likes you. She shoos off bitches if she doesn’t like them. She’s like a second mother to us. No, like a first mother. She’s done more for us than Shelly ever has other than giving birth. Delia wants you in there with the women, it’s an honor for her to invite you.”

  I nodded, feeling a little warm at the idea of being accepted so readily.

  “There’ll be food and people shootin’ the breeze. And then kids’ll disappear and it’ll go full-on wake.”

  “Okay.”

  “It’ll get rowdy. It always does.”

  “Okay.”

  “You’ve been introduced as mine. No one should try anything with you. To be safe, you stick close to me until you’ve had enough and then I’ll walk you back here. If I think things’re too rowdy, I may decide to bring you back here earlier.”

  I tilted my head curiously. “You might decide to bring me back here.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Before I’m ready to be brought back here,” I confirmed.

  “Right. Gonna need you to trust my judgement on that. It’ll be a good time. We feel that loss through the funeral and then we celebrate his life. Have the kinda party he’d wanna be at. That’s how we roll. It gets rowdy, you call it a night.”

  I shook my head. “Me.”

  He looked at me like I was dim, so I clarified.

  “Me, but not necessarily you?”

  His lips twitched a little bit, but he didn’t reply.

  “All right Captain Caveman, we’ll see.”

  “Not, we’ll see. I tell you it’s time for bed, I don’t want lip about it.” And now he looked like he was messing with me.

  I glared. “Well. I guess I’d better not give you lip then.”

  He looked at me with amusement. “Your eyes are huge right now. And angry. And your body language tells me you’ll be givin’ me lip.”

  “Good you can read my body language this soon in our acquaintance.”

  “Jenna. I fuckin’ get hard at your lip. And your lips. And your hips.” He reached over and put his hand to my hip.

  I backed away. “Whatever. Show me to the kitchen so I can go be useful.”

  I headed toward the door. He grabbed me and spun me around.

  “You reflect on me here today. You been doin’ good so far.”

  I laughed. “I ran away from you in the middle of the night drunk in my underwear. And your Dad saw me. How on Earth is that ‘doin’ good so far’?”

  “That was last night. Today is today. Things’re different during a funeral. And different still at the after-party. This next few hours are important.”

  “I wouldn’t reflect on you if you hadn’t incorrectly identified me as your woman.”

  “It’s what you are,” he said.

  I shook my head. “No. That’s you being delusional.”

  “How do I change your mind?” he asked.

  I scoffed.

  “Be serious here for a minute.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Like you are? Like you ever are? It’s all just a big joke to you.”

  He took my face into both hands and got close. Super close. “I’m serious.”

  And I couldn’t challenge that, because he looked serious.

  “How? How do I change your mind?” he asked.

  “This isn’t the time for this.”

  Oh God, I’m gonna cave; I know I am. And I want to. I want to so badly. But, is that smart?

  “Baby, it is the time. You’re helping me through this and gotta say, it’ll help me a whole lot more to know you and me are starting from here as a you and me.”

  “This is emotional blackmail, Rider Valentine,” I breathed.

  “Is it working?” he asked, his thumbs caressing my cheeks.

  It was. It totally was.

  He moved even closer.

  “So, you good about what I’ve said about out there?” he asked.

  I shrugged, sinking into his eyes.

  “Tonight, it’s anything goes. Just want you prepared,” he said softly.

  “Nothing could’ve prepared me for the whirlwind that has been my life since meeting you, Rider.”

  He smiled and took one more step forward, backing me against the door. Still holding my face, he softly said, “Yeah, but stick with me, gorgeous, and you’ll get the reward. The winds’ll change and life’ll be a joyride instead.”

  My lips parted and between his words and the look in his eyes, I was moved.

  “Gimme a chance, baby,” he said leaning in. “I gave you your first ride and you loved it. You climb back on and hold on tight and I’ll rock your world every fuckin’ day. Give you that future you saw that first ride.”

  I blinked at him. My body was covered in goosebumps.

  He moved in for a kiss. He hesitated a half an inch from my mouth, giving me a chance to want it.

  And damn, but I wanted it.

  I licked my lips and then he moved in and his lips touched mine softly, sweetly. And I opened up and kissed him back.

  His hands moved back, into my hair, and the kiss turned hungry.

  My fingers dove into his hair. I pulled the elastic out and had handfuls of it.

  His face, still smooth from that morning’s shave? It felt amazing.

  His hands went to my hips and he pulled me into his crotch. I let out a little whimper at the contact. And then my dress was sliding up and his hands were on my thighs, moving to my ass. “We gotta get out there
. I want to bury myself in you for days, hear all about our future in that sweet voice, but we gotta get out there, so this is gonna be fast,” he said this against my mouth.

  “Fast,” I agreed, and then he was fiddling with his jeans and pulling my underwear to the side and then he was filling me.

  I gasped.

  His eyes burned a hole in me. A beautiful hole.

  He hefted me up by the thighs, so my legs were wrapped around him.

  “Need you, gorgeous. “

  “Okay.”

  “Want you to be mine.”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay?” he asked, rotating his hips.

  I gulped and nodded.

  He slammed harder and his eyes went hard with this look of…what? Possessiveness.

  He turned us around and moved us toward the bed. We went down, mouths connected, pelvises connected.

  He went fast and hard and I did nothing but lie there. I was kind of in shock.

  What was I doing? Okay? I said okay?

  He moved hard and fast, and I knew he was holding back, waiting for me, because when I hit the climax, he hit it a millisecond later, coming inside me, groaning into my mouth, letting out a little moan that was super sexy-sounding.

  “Baby…” he breathed.

  I blinked.

  I swallowed.

  I blinked again.

  I just agreed to be his girlfriend. While having sex. Against the door. During a funeral.

  Oh my God... I was cock fogged like Ella. What was it about these bikers?

  He kissed me again and I didn’t finish my thought, because I melted into the kiss. He pulled back a few inches and his eyes searched mine. That was when I got scared. I grabbed him by the shirt and couldn’t decide whether to push him away or pull him closer.

  I had to catch my breath. I needed air. Or him. Or maybe he was air.

  “What’s the matter?” he whispered.

  “I don’t know if I can do this,” I admitted, breathless.

  “You can,” he whispered. “I’ll help.”

  “I---” I was feeling panic rise. I needed air. This room felt so small and closed in. “But, you’ve never done it.”

  My heart was racing.

  “Never felt like it was right before. But with you, it’s like I was built for it.”

  I was gasping, panicking. I tried to get away from him.