Wild Rides: 10 Blazing Hot Alpha Bad Boy Biker and MC Romance Box Set

by Dez Burke

  “So, doll, I’ve got plenty of beer. I want to hear what changed your mind,” Jack said. I took a deep breath as I pondered where to begin. I guess the beginning was as good a place as any. I told Jack about my hike with Trudy and what she had told me about living to please others instead of myself. I told Jack how that made me think but that my talk with Trudy was just the beginning.

  Then I told him about the night out with Trudy and her friend Sarah. I left out the fact Sarah was a crossdresser, unsure how Jack might react. I explained the wet t-shirt contest and what I’d done to win it from those other girls. Then I revealed what we did after, going to Trudy’s place and getting high but I’d painted myself into a corner. I couldn’t reveal the entire story without explaining Sarah to Jack.

  “Um...Sarah, she’s not a normal girl. She’s a crossdresser,” I began. Jack nodded. He barely reacted to any of it, nodding now and then and raising his eyebrows once or twice but that’s all he gave me. I couldn’t read him. I told him about how Sarah became Sarah with Trudy’s help and their previous relationship. Then I revealed that I’d watched Trudy give Sarah a hand job, though it was all a bit fuzzy due to the marijuana. Jack simply nodded.

  I continued, relating the rest of the story as Jack listened but gave me no hint of what he was thinking. The change in my attitude, my decision to live to please myself and forget about what others might think. I explained how Sarah and I seemed to be developing a friendship after going shopping earlier that day and how I really liked her, not despite the fact she was really a guy but in part because of it. That’s where he came in.

  “So that’s it. I was just kind of afraid what people might think if they knew I liked you. I guess I thought they might judge me. Talking about it with Trudy helped but meeting Sarah and seeing how she lived her life really hit home,” I said. Jack nodded again and puffed on his cigar as he turned to look at me. I wasn’t sure what to expect.

  “I don’t know. That’s quite a tale. You’re kind of scaring me and I’m just not sure you’re my type,” he said with a perfectly straight face. He was in range, however, so I reached over and punched him.

  “Ha ha ha. Very funny!” I said and Jack laughed at his little joke. I couldn’t help but join him though. I took another sip of beer and found it was my last. I shook the bottle, Jack took it from me and got up to go fetch two more. He was gone a moment and I knew when he came back I had to ask about Sarah. I needed to know how he felt for some reason. I don’t know why but I felt like if he couldn’t accept her, then we weren’t meant to be.

  It shouldn’t have mattered. It wasn’t as if dating Jack and being friends with Sarah had anything meaningful in common. I could have relationships with both no matter how each felt about the other but I didn’t want that. I needed Jack to accept her. I needed to know he was what I hoped. His lifestyle and his home made me think that he was but I needed to know for sure. Jack sat back down and handed me one of the beers but before I could ask Jack, he answered without me having to.

  “Your friends sound cool. I’d like to meet them,” he said.

  “Really?” I asked a bit surprised and Jack picked up on that.

  “Yeah, why?” he wondered.

  “I thought...well, I...,” I began to say but without much success before Jack smiled and jumped in.

  “Look, I can’t live the way I do and not accept others for who they are. I’m used to being judged, even by you,” he said and I nodded accepting the truth. “I’m a scruffy, outlaw, dumpster-diving biker. Who am I to judge? I live the way that makes me happy. Sounds like your friend Sarah’s found what makes her happy. Good for her,” Jack said and I suddenly had a big smile I couldn’t shake.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “No need. So, I have a question. Did I pass the test?” he asked. I was surprised at that.

  “What test?” I asked innocently. I guess I was testing him but I was testing myself too.

  “Don’t bullshit a bullshitter,” Jack replied. I laughed at that.

  “Yeah, you passed. I passed the test too,” I said and then Jack really surprised me.

  “I like you a lot, Brandy. You’re...fearless,” he said. Oh my Lord. That’s what Sarah told me too. Be fearless. What the hell was with everyone quoting each other?

  “Do you know Sarah or something, she used that word too. Fearless,” I asked rhetorically but Jack answered anyway.

  “Yeah, she’s my brother,” Jack said straight as can be leaving no doubt he was serious. I choked on the beer I was trying to swallow but as soon as I saw the grin on Jack’s face, I knew he was screwing with me.

  “You’re an idiot. She’d be your sister anyway...I think,” I said and we both laughed at my confusion.

  “So, I assume your cool being my old lady?” he asked but it was a statement of sorts. Old lady? I knew that meant I’d be his girlfriend. Yeah, I was more than cool with that.

  “If you don’t mind being my old man, I could be your old lady,” I replied. Jack put his hand out, palm up and held it there. I looked at it, then at him and took his hand in mine.

  “Good! I need a decent lawyer,” he said and squeezed my hand. I smiled and took a sip of beer as Jack puffed on his cigar. I guess we were dating and I couldn’t have been happier. No reservations and no worries. If people didn’t like it, fuck ‘em. I was Jack’s old lady and I was proud that he was my old man.

  >>O<<

  Jack took us to get some burgers and fries after a bit. We took his truck so I didn’t have to get dressed for real. After we ate them back at his trailer sitting at the bar on those old stools, we cuddled up on his big leather sofa daybed thing and watched a movie. I slept over and we made love again that morning. OK, we fucked like bikers. Making love is for normal people. In any case, when I finally made it home the next afternoon, I was on cloud nine. I had to tell someone and there was really only one someone I wanted to tell.

  “I’m so happy for you, Brandy,” Sarah exclaimed when I told her all about my night with Jack.

  “Thanks. It’s partially you’re doing,” I told her.

  “Meh, you would have figured it out on your own,” she replied.

  “Um... can I ask you something, Sarah?” I replied.

  “Yeah, sure,” she replied. I know what I wanted to ask but I wasn’t sure how to ask it. I wasn’t sure it wouldn’t sound stupid. But I had to be fearless.

  “I like you a lot, Sarah. I know you’re a crossdresser and all but we can be like girlfriends, right?” I asked and it did sound kind of stupid. Sarah didn’t say a word for a moment and I wondered if I might have said something wrong.

  “Really? You mean that?” she asked and her voice was a bit shaky.

  “Yeah, I do,” I told her.

  “I’d love to be your BFF, Brandy,” she replied. Now I was getting emotional too.

  “Cool!” I replied but I had another question. “What’s your name? You know your dude name?” I asked. Again Sarah hesitated.

  “Why?” she asked in return and I could hear that she was hesitant.

  “If we’re going to be friends I just thought...,” I began to say but she interrupted.

  You’d better just call me Sarah,” she said and I thought I’d offended her or something for a moment until she added, “It’s Jack. I mean it’s really John after my dad but everyone calls me Jack so there’s less confusion.”

  “No shit?” I asked her.

  “No shit. Besides, I want to be Sarah with you, you know. I don’t mind you meeting the male me but I don’t want to be him with you. I want to be your girlfriend, OK,” she explained.

  “OK, but if I want to hang out on a Wednesday night, you might have to get all made up and put on something pretty,” I teased.

  “Promise?” she replied and we both laughed. We talked for a while about Jack and stuff and agreed to get together soon and go shopping or something. I felt like everything was clear suddenly. I had Jack and now I had a best friend. This was so cool. Better yet, I didn’t
feel like I was struggling to fit in or make everyone else happy. I was just being me, doing what felt good and right, what I wanted and I loved it.

  The next morning, I went into work and Vic was already in his office back from his vacation. I’d had quite a week while he was gone and I looked it. The pink streak was still in my hair and instead of my usual skirt suit, white blouse and conservative heels, I wore something that I liked instead of what I thought I should wear. I wore a short leather skirt, a red blouse and matching heels. Underneath, it was all black lace including the garter belt that held my sheer black stockings with the seam up the back tight against my shapely legs.

  “Morning, Vic,” I said as I stood in his door.

  “Place looks nice. Thanks for cleaning...,” he began to say until he looked up and saw me. “You look...different, Brandy,” he told me as he looked me up and down with obviously inappropriate thoughts running through his head.

  “Do I?” I replied being coy appreciating his wandering eyes.

  “Yeah. So how’d everything go with Jack Anker?” he asked after shaking his head and forcing himself to look me in the eye.

  “I got him off. I got him off good,” I replied and giggled to myself. Vic couldn’t figure out what that was all about but I enjoyed my little turn of phrase immensely.

  “Uh...good. Anything else happen?” he wondered.

  “Nope. Pretty uneventful week,” I told him but it was anything but. I was Jack’s old lady and my new best friend was a crossdresser. I’d danced on the bar half-naked at Hogs and Heifers, won a wet t-shirt contest and smoked pot. I’d found my inner bad girl and let a dumpster-diving biker have his way with her. Best of all, that fearless, curvy vixen was here to stay.

  “Right,” was all Vic said. He knew something was up but for the life of him he couldn’t figure out what.

  “How was Hawaii? You and Lacey have a good time?” I asked changing the subject. Vic’s expression changed.

  “Yeah, it was a good vacation,” he replied.

  “Well, how about I make us some coffee and you can tell me all about all the juicy details before we get to work,” I offered.

  “Yeah, OK. You know, whatever happened to you, Brandy, I like it,” Vic told me. I smiled as he handed me his empty coffee cup.

  “So do I,” I replied and went to go get us some coffee.

  >>O<<

  About the Author: D. H. Cameron

  D. H. Cameron enjoys writing stories with a heart and a little, or a lot, of erotic sizzle. Ms. Cameron also writes fantasy under another pen name. Besides writing, Ms. Cameron enjoys music, specifically hard rock and heavy metal, cooking, clothes and photography. Ms. Cameron is happily married with two wonderful children. Home, where Ms. Cameron writes full time, is in Nevada.

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  Worthy of the Billionaire Biker by Krista Lakes

  Worthy of the Billionaire's Attention

  I sat admiring Mr. King's picture on the cover of a magazine in the waiting room of his company’s tower. Gregory King had aged little in the photo from when I saw him last. Would he even recognize me? I had met Gregory King back when he went by Tech and was a member of the Prairie Devils. He had been dangerous and cunning back then, and judging by the glare on the magazine cover, business dealings hadn't changed that. From the heat in those hazel eyes, he was still the same fierce man, just wearing a suit instead of leather.

  Gregory King was frequently featured in both Forbes’ Magazine’s list of Richest Men and People Magazine’s list of sexiest men alive. He was the founder of a small software company that suddenly found itself the main security software for hand-held devices. There was speculation that he created the security software based on the holes he had exploited for the Prairie Devils. There were rumors he still exploited those holes for them.

  He had been good with computers when I met him, but I had always suspected he had more expertise than he had let me see. Being with him, and thus his motorcycle gang had been dangerous enough without me knowing exactly what he could do. When the company had soared above everyone's expectations he had changed his persona to that of a business man, but never forgot his roots with the motorcycle club. Most of his bodyguards and security teams were Prairie Devils.

  But that wasn't why he was a fixture in all the magazines. Every magazine enjoyed featuring him in pictures as his strong jaw and boyish blonde hair always made for gorgeous covers. His eyes were an odd combination of blue and brown that refused to be classified and held a smolder that threatened to light the pages on fire.

  He kept a treadmill in his office that he used between meetings and a set of weights for when he was between clients. As a result, his body looked as though he spent hours in the gym instead of the office. When he wasn't in his office, he was out on his motorcycle.

  I thought back to the first time I had seen him. I had met him when my car broke down in front of a biker bar. It was not a good place for a sweet little college freshman on summer break to have her transmission blow. He had basically rescued me and now I was applying for an entry-level job at his company. I hoped he could rescue me again.

  His eyes consumed me from across the table.

  “You want to do this?”

  “Yes”

  I gasped with pleasure as he took me in his arms and pinned me to the table. Knowing that he would put me exactly where he wanted me, that I was at his mercy was intoxicating. My pussy dampened at just the thought of it. He bit my collar bone gently, and then sucked on the delicate skin of my throat, leaving a large sensitive red mark. It hurt in such a tantalizing way that I couldn’t wait for more.

  I shook my head, clearing the memory. Gregory King was the best sex I had ever had. Our first time together had been an alcohol fueled passion in a crappy hotel room. I had known him for precisely three hours and four drinks, but I had invited him hotel room he had helped me find while my car was in the shop. There was something dangerous about him that I couldn't say no to. That I didn't want to say no to.

  The next day, he tied me to the bed and gave me one of the most pleasurable experiences of my life. I stopped my road-trip to California and stayed in the Midwest town for the summer just to be with him. I got a job as a diner waitress in town with a tiny apartment instead of going to Hollywood. Despite the very non-exotic local, it was the best summer of my life. Every night was better than the last. It was spectacular, and I never wanted it to end.

  When summer ended, he told me to go back to school. “This is no place for a girl like you,” he had said. “You are going to do great things. You can't stay here.” I had been heartbroken, but I left. My dangerous outlaw love had to end. I had to go back to school, back to real life, and back to my degree. I had worked too hard on school to just give up and be a waitress for the rest of my life. I often wondered, especially when I lost my job, if I had made the right choice.

  Our last night together, he had tied me to a chair and taught me how well pain and pleasure could mix. I had tried to keep in touch with him, but his motorcycle didn't exactly come equipped with wi-fi for Facebook. Not that he was the Facebook type to begin with. After I
left, I got one phone message and then nothing. The next time I saw him it was on the cover of a magazine as an up-and-coming business man.

  “Claire Vanders?” A mousy secretary brought me back to reality. I stood up, smoothed my skirt and picked up my resume. She brought me to a conference room and showed me to a seat. There was only one other person in the room, a tall wiry man, busy reading over papers scattered across the table. His grey hair was cropped short and he peered at me over thin wire glasses.

  “Ms. Vanders? You are here to apply for the finance junior associate position, is that correct?”

  I nodded and handed him my resume. He took it from me, but didn’t even look at it as he set it on the table. It disappeared into his conglomeration of documents. I swallowed into a dry throat. I needed this job. I was over-qualified for this job.

  “My name is Mr. Jenkins, and I have been instructed to hire you, Ms. Vanders, but not for the junior associate position. King Enterprises would like to offer you a position in the finance department as liaison to Mr. King himself. He saw your name on the application list and requested you personally.”

  I was pretty sure my jaw was bruised from it hitting the table. This was the best interview I had ever had and I hadn’t even said a word yet. I couldn’t believe my luck.

  “A liaison to Mr. King? Would I be working with him personally?” I finally managed to sputter out after a moment of silence. My tongue tripped over most of the words and my voice cracked at the end. I am not entirely sure it even sounded like English.

  The thin man nodded curtly, obviously wondering how someone so incredibly articulate had gotten this position. He slid a folder across the table with all the information. I read through the job description and a grin broke out as I saw my proposed salary. The man sat and patiently collected the documents as I signed them, then stood and had me follow him out the door.