by Liz K. Lorde
Maybe Lex would let me do that.
There was a woman then, who came along. She looked somehow familiar, with her blonde hair and skimpy outfit. She practically pranced over to Hunter, and whispered something that I couldn’t make out in his ear. A terrible feeling sliced through me; a twinge, a pull, of something that I couldn’t put my finger on. The two spoke for a brief moment; Hunter laughing and nodding his head. Whatever it was they were discussing, one thing was clear - the two were close and comfortable around one another.
Her hand brushed along Hunter’s waist, and then she walked away.
Probably his girlfriend. Guys like that don’t just cruise through life without a partner. She’s his. Right then, Hunter stalked back over to me and took a seat beside my person.
Lex stepped over, “What’d you do with the guy?”
I could see the pearly white of Hunter’s teeth, seeing him close, I pinned him as being maybe late twenties, “Where else would trash end up, Lex.”
Lex chuckled darkly to himself, “He better be out of there before morning.”
“Grab me a glass, and another for the lady here - for her troubles,” Hunter instructed.
I flipped my hair back over my shoulder, “Oh it’s okay,” I said, kind of squeaking like some sort of mouse. I felt small, for some reason, “I mean - I’ve already got a drink. Lex here took care of me - and uh, thanks, by the way. You, you didn’t need to do that,” Jesus Ives, come on, “I’ve had my share before. Of having to deal with that, I mean.”
Hunter shook his head in acknowledgement, a thin smile gracing the lines of his face, “I’m sure you have,” his blue eyes appraised me from toe, to crown. “Have another on me,” the man pursued.
“If you insist.” I made a gesture towards Hunter’s jacket, “Lex tells me you ride.” Just then Lex sat down two more glasses of beer.
There was a glint in Hunter’s eyes. He looked me over again - this time making sure to get a good, long look at my cleavage, “I do. But from where I’m sittin’ - I’m trying to figure if you do or not.”
Like to ride, hmn? Wouldn’t you like to know. I could ride with the best of them, but I’ve never known myself to do that for just any man. “Never have,” I admitted the truth, in one respect at least.
“I can change that,” Hunter offered and then sipped from his beer, “haven’t seen you around here before, you know. That’s usual for me.” There was this unseen pull, this force that I could not ignore – a part of me hated it, and a greater part of me loved it.
“You make an effort to get to know every girl that walks in here? I had a feeling that I shouldn’t be flattered,” I put my elbow on the counter and rested my chin against the palm of my hand, trying to look unimpressed.
“My business to know people at the club,” Hunter said, “especially people like you.”
I felt a smile tug at my lips, “And just what kind of people am I?”
“The dangerous kind,” Hunter looked me dead in the eyes and a weakness shot straight to my legs.
I shifted in my seat, trying to take my eyes off of his body - I was failing at this horribly. “You’re not a great judge of character,” I informed him, “dangerous is the word I would least use to describe me.”
Hunter nodded his head and then slammed his beer back like it was nothing, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and then brushing back the thick strands of his beautiful coffee hair. “Yeah, you’re right - dangerous isn’t the right word for you,” he paused, “I’m thinking the word for you is…take.”
“Take?”
“As in you’d take everything, if someone would let you close.” I didn’t know how to feel about that - I sort of felt it was the other way around; that I’d let someone take everything from me. Hunter smirked, “as in, I’d take you outside the front and take you right there, for everyone to see.”
Oh.
My throat felt constricted, and I could only imagine the look on my face was completely awestruck. A wonderful, delectable ache formed between my legs and I was suddenly becoming more and more aware of my nipples. Here he was just a second ago being the mix of perfect gentlemen, perfect kicker of all drunken-and-disturbing the peace ass. “Yeah right,” I said in disbelief, trying to laugh it off, “good one.”
But the way he looked at me, it was like he was seeing through me. It did funny things to my stomach, and every breath that I took in felt electric. “Darling, you can doubt the rich boys and addicts and drunks that chase you,” he leaned in a little closer to me, so close now that I could feel some of his body heat mingling with my own - so close that everything that wasn’t us seemed to fade away. “But don’t doubt me,” he breathed, as though he were confessing some universal truth that he had deigned me worthy enough to be told.
I put a hand on Hunter’s shoulder and got equally close to him, “You ever hear of Aerosmith?” I could tell that he thought it a strange question to ask, he said nothing but his body language gave it all away - he bobbed his head. “They wrote a song for you,” I said, “Dream On.”
He backed away slowly, a grin forming on his face and then a laugh, “Wow.”
“Yep.”
“That’s a good one,” he shook two fingers at me and then moved back into my personal space. For some reason, I didn’t feel repulsed by him being so close - for some reason…it felt good. “I’d still do it in a heartbeat,” he said matter of factly, “half the fun’s getting you to realize you want to say yes.”
“You’ll find my vocabulary limited in the respect of agreeing, but overflowing in being stubborn,” the words came out playful from my mouth, even though I had not intended them to be. Heat, such delightful and gripping heat overtook me. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him.
Dammit Ives. You’re supposed to be a semiprofessional. Kind of. Tonight, you’re supposed to be…frack. I could feel Sabrina judging me from the comfort of her bed, as she was undoubtedly laying there reading one of her mystery books.
“We’ll see about that,” Hunter promised in that rumbly voice of his, “I could take you out, later tonight, if you want to go for a ride. Course, we’ll have to dance first. You do like to party, don’t you, mystery girl?”
I raised a brow and made some space between the two of us, for I feared that if I remained too close to the man, I might find myself professionally slobbering over him and ruining his jacket. “I’m a terrible dancer,” I was telling the truth, every time anyone got me to dance - I would spend half the time stepping on my partner’s feet and the other half tripping over myself. If God or nature, or whatever, intended for me to dance - I would have been given a second set of feet specifically for the cause.
Hunter moved his head from side to side, his deep blue’s studying my face carefully, “Not that kind of dance gorgeous,” his hand found my thigh, and moved upwards along it slowly. Such simple, base ecstasy rolled through me; my body waking up and almost kind of pulsing at his meticulously exploring hand. “Your name,” he said quietly, his eyes and his hand and the heat of his person seemed to mesmerize me. “I’ve been wanting it since I saw you walk through the door.”
“Keep wanting,” I teased in a breathy voice, opening my legs almost automatically, just an inch or two at the most. If my body was a lock, then his touch was my key.
Hunter didn’t say anything to that. He just looked at me, “There’s something…off about you,” he softly announced, his fingers venturing dangerously close to the heat between my legs. Did he know how it ached for his touch?
He couldn’t know that. He couldn’t possibly. “Something I can’t place my finger on,” Hunter continued, his wicked smile widening.
No more. I grabbed the man’s wrist and pushed his hand from me. It was like I had woken up from the most tantalizing of slumbers, “You’re right about that much,” my voice had more bite to it than I had intended.
Hunter’s jaw jumped, it was clear that being told to pump the brakes wasn’t something he was told often. Or likely even eve
r. “Alright firecracker,” Hunter got up out of his seat, his jacket creaking against the muscles of his body, “if you won’t tell me your name, I have to ask. What are you doing here?”
Me? Oh, you know. Here to spy and gather information for a newspaper that would love nothing more than to rip your beautiful face and club to little shreds; hell I could see Mr. Gates and all of the senior staff dancing on your graves right now. All of them in their suits and ties. The sky would be clear and the sun would be shining down through the trees; there would be excited clapping from the junior staff, much hurrah and whooping – glasses of champagne for everybody, bottles of the bubbly would be popping off and spraying wildly.
I smiled, “I’m here to have a good time,” I responded, grabbing the beer that Lex had given me earlier and keeping my eyes steady on the handsome devil of a man. My fingers wrapped around the frosty glass and I downed it like a champion. I could see on the lines of Hunter’s face that he was clearly impressed. I moved in close to his ear and whispered, “are you going to give it to me?”
Hunter darkly chuckled, and our smiles became infectious to one another. “Lex,” he called out, and then craned his head to look for the bartender, “two sets of four shots. Tequila.” Hunter turned his head back to me, “I know you’re hiding something from me, but that’s okay.”
“Am I?” I gave him as innocent a look as I could muster; it wasn’t a look that I practiced often.
“Hide all you want,” Hunter nodded his head, picking me up from my bar stool and bringing me to my feet, his hands on my hips. “Do whatever it is that you feel,” he said, “just know this.”
“I’m listening,” the man’s intoxicating scent kissed at my nose; some wondrous mixture of man, gasoline and splendid cedar. I wasn’t lying either, he had my full attention – every fiber of my being was being pulled towards him.
“I get what I want,” the words rolled from his mouth like liquid silver. Seducing me, enchanting me. “I get who I want,” he continued, his one hand going to the small of my back and pulling me closer against his body, so near that my chest was almost touching him. I felt my pulse quicken and my stomach twist with butterflies, “I fuck what I want.” My breath hitched in my throat.
“Maybe I should leave then,” I said softly, “I wouldn’t want to ruin your perfect record, or embarrass you in front of your crew…Hunter.”
His brows rose at the mention of his name, and he looked over to Lex. He wasn’t dumb by any means, that much radiated from his being – there was no mistake that he made the connection, that Lex informed me of his name. Hunter turned back his head to face me, “Alright firecracker,” he gave a little laugh, and for some reason I found myself wanting to be lost in a sea of that laugh; I wanted to drown in that smile, wanted to feel his hand go further down my back – even though it stayed firmly planted above my ass. “You’ve got game,” oh indeed. Lex came back over with the shots, set up on a small platter, and set it on the counter. “Tonight you’re gonna hang with me and mine,” he pulled away from me then and whistled over at the table where his boys were sitting.
And then he slung an arm over the back of my neck, pulling me tightly against his person. Squishing me even. Never in my life was I big on public displays of affection, or even touching for that matter. Call me weird, or whatever, but it was what it was – and after…well, after what happened, I wasn’t comfortable with being comfortable.
Hunter glanced over at me, that look making me feel weak and like my heart might float right out of my body. He looked over to the two men that were walking towards us, the men whose names I’d already forgotten.
“Reyes,” Hunter called out. The man was built almost equally as impressive as Hunter. He had dominating shoulders, and was maybe only a head smaller in height than Hunter. His skin was toned darker, like he had been baking in the sun for quite some time. Besides his slicked back dark, auburn hair, his most prominent feature was his displeased scowl. “Play nice with my lady friend here, you can call her Firecracker,” Hunter glanced at me, “less she tells you otherwise.”
Reyes’s light gray eyes sized me up for a moment of time, and then he stepped closer, bringing his hand out in a clasping motion. Stitched onto his jacket was a peculiar white piece that read ‘Sergeant-at-Arms’.
I awkwardly reached out at the angle that Hunter was forcing me to come from, meeting his hand with mine.
“Good to meet you,” he practically growled the words, and his eyes shifted over to Hunter – speaking something subtle; what exactly, I could not be sure.
I pulled myself away from Hunter’s embrace, “Who pissed in your cheerios?” I asked sincerely.
The man to Reyes’s right spit out a laugh.
Hunter scoffed, “Jameson, try to show this beautiful creature some of our honest grace and hospitality.”
Jameson was maybe an inch smaller in height than Hunter, and his pinecone brown hair was done in an attractive man bun – even if it wasn’t my thing, I could respect him for rocking it. He reached his hand out towards me and gave a warm smile, “Elated,” he said, shaking his head from side to side, “positively elated, miss.”
I returned the smile and finished shaking his hand, “At least one of you has manners,” I announced, spying on his jacket a patch that read Vice President.
Jackpot.
4
Jessica
The four of us spent a lot of time downing shots and going out into the dance floor and doing what I do worst. But after I made a fool out of myself, the boys made sure to help me with it. There was a small period when I had to pretend to go to the bathroom, when I felt Sabrina buzz my phone. I caught her up to speed, and let her know that I’d call a cab and find my way home just fine.
When I got back to the dance floor, Hunter went to talk to the DJ, and had the guy put on some of the easier songs to follow along to. They all seemed impossible to me. He got in close to me and put his hands on my hips; guided me to the motions and the beats of the song - pointed me towards how others were doing it. They made it look easy, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“You just gotta relax, Firecracker,” he whispered in my ear, his hands lavishing me with seductive attention, “move like this,” he insisted, rocking my body in a particular motion to the pulsing synths and blaring kicks. The seductive vibrations caressed the whole of my being, but I could only seem to partially get the hang of things.
“I told you,” I replied, the buzz from the alcohol playing at my mind and heart, “I’m no good at this,” I practically whined those words out. That was strange. Whining, at least out loud, was unlike me. It felt surreal, I could hardly believe that I was getting to hang out with a sexy outlaw. Sabrina’s going to be so jealous.
“You’re doing great,” Hunter assured, “you’ll get the hang of it, I promise you,” he gave that warm laugh that I wanted to lose myself in. “Just keep to the beat, don’t worry about everyone watching you—”
“People are watching me?!” I turned my head, a twinge of heat coursing through my blood.
“I’m sure they are, beautiful,” he whispered, “any man in here would be looking at your tight ass, if they had even half a brain - or any balls at all.”
“So that’s what you’ve been looking at, is it?”
“I confess to everything,” Hunter practically growled the words, “and to nothing.”
I hummed something low from my chest in response, turning to face him then and dancing with him. We got close, so close I feared I might drown in his eyes; that I could smell the mint of his breath – I’m sure he snuck away to freshen up at some point. Clever. As we danced, I felt this invisible tug. I felt like putty in his hands, but I was alive.
Alive was good. Beat the hell out of misery.
The hours passed and the four of us trolled the club. We smoked herb in the tiny, fenced in courtyard at the club’s side. They had me meet a host of usual suspects, older men that didn’t ride – like Ricky Twelvefingers, of who
m I never learned exactly why he was called that. I suspected from their seeming embarrassment, which I thought bikers would be incapable of, that it was something related to sex.
The uproarious night went on and the three marched me towards the dart section, having me miserably toss the sharp badboys. I lost every match that I played, but when I got a few points they would cheer and when Hunter would show me how to play, the boys would whistle their approval.
Sometime later (most of us had stopped drinking) in the night, surely just hours before the sun would peek over the skyline, when the four of us were worn out from moving our bodies; we adjourned ourselves back to the table where I had originally seen the bikers. At this point, I was having too much fun acting like a damn fool.
You’re here for a reason, I reminded myself. You’ve got to stay on point. My eyes met Hunter’s gaze for just a spell, and those thoughts and feelings of having to act professional. Of having a purpose here, to research and look and report - it all washed away.
Heat sank itself deep into my core, and a delicious, teasing ache formed against my clit.
The ever grumpy Reyes sat himself beside me, which was pretty disappointing, as I would have preferred Hunter - or even Jameson, at my side. He looked over at me for a moment and then turned his gaze elsewhere.
He definitely doesn’t like me.
Hunter leaned forward in his side of the booth, “Come on now, beautiful,” he said, “it’s about time you gave us a little something.”
“What do you mean?” I raised a brow.
Jameson brought the beer to his lips and dipped his head back, and then cradled the bottle in his hand between his fingers
Hunter’s gaze seemed to look right through me, “I mean we’ve been buying you drinks and keeping your fine ass happy,” Hunter explained, “told you what we do. Now it’s time you open up a bit,” he instructed. It was true, they had told me some about themselves; though I learned next to nothing about Reyes.
Jameson was a mechanic at their shop down on Caulhoon, the head mechanic of the place.