Fearing The Biker

by Cassie Alexandra

  From the grunts and moans on the other side of the door, it sounded like someone was having sex.

  “Let’s get out of here,” he whispered, pulling my arm. “Wow, I thought the honeymoon happened after the wedding,” laughed Jesse.

  “I guess not on the second time around,” I said, surprised that his parents were even having sex.

  “Dammit,” he said, looking down at his shirt. “I must have spilled some wine on it, earlier. Why didn’t you tell me?” he pouted.

  I stared at the small light-red speckles. “Sorry, I didn’t even notice it myself.”

  “I’m going to my room and change, quickly. Why don’t you wait for me downstairs?”

  I nodded.

  “Better yet,” he said. “The library. Wait for me in there and we’ll mix ourselves a couple of cocktails. My dad keeps his expensive stash in there.”

  “Sure,” I said.

  He grinned. “Just stay away from the north side of the library. He keeps his smut on that side.”

  I shuddered. “Good to know.”

  “Seriously, he gets into some really raunchy stuff,” he said, walking back upstairs.

  That doesn’t surprise me, I thought, as I walked downstairs to the library. I opened the door and stepped inside.

  “Didn’t your mother ever teach you to knock before entering?” snapped Sela, standing next to a sofa, slipping on a pair of black heels.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” I said, taking a step back. “I didn’t realize that anyone was in here.”

  “It’s okay,” she said, straightening up. Her hair was slightly disheveled and her lips, swollen. “We’re finished now, anyway.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Finished?”

  “Don’t ask,” she said, with a wicked grin. She walked over to a doorway on the other side of the room and knocked. “You’d better put your pants back on, Reed,” she said, loudly. “We have company.”

  I felt like someone had kicked me in the stomach. He’d left me only to have sex with Sela.

  “Sorry, I’ll just leave,” I said, moving towards the door.

  “À bientôt!” called Sela.

  What did you expect? I thought, to myself. Sela is his fiancée. She’s beautiful, successful, and rich. He was just using you for a quick piece of ass. Nothing more.

  Like father, like son.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Sinclair

  I was angry and disgusted with myself for being so naïve, so much that I didn’t even notice Pastor Richie rounding the corner, and we collided.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, Pastor,” I apologized, as he grabbed my arm to help steady me.

  He smiled. “It’s quite all right. It’s Sinclair, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” I said, as he released my arm.

  “Well, I’m glad I ran into you. I could really use someone’s help.”

  “Oh?”

  He pushed his glasses up higher on his nose. “Yes, you see, I brought a special gift for the ceremony and it’s very fragile. It’s so delicate, in fact, that I don’t even trust those young men parking the vehicles outside. They’re so reckless with those cars and I should hate to have anything happen to the Eddington’s gift.”

  “Oh, well I can certainly help you,” I said. “No problem.”

  “Thank you, Sinclair,” he beamed. “You’re such an angel.”

  “I don’t know about that,” I chuckled, as we started walking towards the front door.

  “Oh, you are. I can just tell with some people.”

  “Hey, Sinclair!” hollered Jesse, who was just coming down the stairs. “Where you going?”

  I turned around. “I’m going outside to help Pastor Richie,” I called back.

  “Oh, well, okay. I’ll fix you a drink and meet you out in the back.”

  “Thanks!” I hollered and turned back around to follow the pastor.

  “I hope you don’t mind walking up the block,” said Pastor Richie. “I’m not going to make any of the valets drive my car back here just for a package.”

  “No,” I said. “I can handle it.”

  We stepped outside and one of the valet drivers handed him his keys after we explained our mission.

  “You sure?” asked the handsome young Italian man, who kept smiling at me. He was younger, maybe eighteen or nineteen. “I wouldn’t want this lovely lady to break a heel.”

  “I’ll be fine,” I said, returning his smile.

  “Yes, we’ll be right back,” said Pastor Richie. “It won’t take long.”

  “Okay. Be careful, Miss,” said the valet. “There’s a dip at the end of the driveway.”

  “Thanks,” I answered.

  “My, he seemed to be taken with you,” said Pastor Richie as we began walking.

  “Oh,” I smiled. “I doubt it.”

  “He is, believe me. I know that look.”

  I didn’t answer. It didn’t matter if the valet was interested in me or anyone else at the party. I didn’t want to think about sex or men at the moment.

  “Watch out,” said Pastor Richie, pointing towards the uneven road. “There’s that spot he was talking about. Here,” he held out his arm. “Hold on to me.”

  “Thanks,” I said, grabbing onto his elbow as I stepped over the divot. Once we’d cleared it, I began pulling my hand back when he stopped me.

  “Just keep holding on,” he said. “With those heels of yours, I’d hate to see you fall.”

  “Okay, thanks, Pastor,” I said as we continued to walk. I had to admit, it felt good leaning on someone besides Jesse for a change. Besides, I needed more of a fatherly figure at the moment – someone strong and reliable. It was almost comforting.

  “There it is,” he said, pointing towards his car, which was parked towards the end of the block. “Looks like I didn’t earn the VIP spot.”

  “I wouldn’t have either if I’d have driven up in my two-thousand-and-four Malibu,” I said. “They probably would have told me to keep driving.”

  He patted my hand. “I doubt that. You underestimate yourself. These people should be grateful that you attended their little party.”

  Grateful?

  He was such a sweet man.

  I smiled. “Well, I don’t know about grateful, but…”

  “Nonsense,” he said, as we stopped behind the trunk of his car. “Those people, the Eddingtons, are snobby ingrates who don’t understand the value of people or the true meaning of life.”

  I stared at him in surprise as he turned and opened up his trunk, an angry scowl on his face. I bit my lower lip. “I –,”

  “It’s okay,” he interrupted, his face softening, again, “You don’t have to pretend anymore, my love.”

  My what?

  I cleared my throat and forced a smile. “Um, Pastor?”

  He reached out a hand and touched my cheek as I stared at him in confusion. “You are so beautiful.”

  I took a step backwards. “What are you doing?”

  He licked his lips. “Don’t play coy, my dear. Now, call me Michael.”

  I noticed the look in his eyes, it looked anything but fatherly. “Michael?”

  His eyes narrowed. “No, that’s not right. Say it softly… Michael.”

  The hair on the back of my neck stood straight up. Something was very wrong with this man. I quickly glanced towards his trunk, which didn’t contain much more than a couple of pillows and a blanket. “What’s going on here?”

  His lips tightened. “Isn’t it obvious? I’ve come for you. We can finally be together. Just like we were meant to be.”

  Horrified, I turned to leave, but he grabbed me around the waist and pulled me back.

  “No!” I choked as his hand clamped over my mouth.

  “Shh,” he whispered into my ear, holding me against his body as I tried to struggle and break free. He was so much stronger than he looked. “I’m sorry,” he said as his hand closed over my face, the smell of some strange chemical filling my nostrils. “Sleep, my love.”

>   Chapter Twenty-two

  Reed

  “Where’s Sinclair?” I asked Jesse.

  “She’s with Pastor Richie,” he said. “But if she doesn’t get back here soon, I’m drinking her rum and Coke. The ice is almost melted. Where’ve you been, by the way?”

  I sighed. “The pipes are leaking in the kitchen. George and I have been in there for the last hour trying to fix the problem. It’s a nightmare for the catering staff.”

  Jesse looked past me and scowled. “Oh, great, here comes the shrew.”

  I turned to find Sela heading right for us, followed by Jack, who looked inebriated.

  Shit.

  “Hi, lover,” said Sela, putting her arms around my neck. “Where’ve you been all night?”

  I grabbed her hands. “I’ve been around. The real question is, where’ve you been?”

  “She was with me,” slurred Jack, putting his arm around her shoulders. “Gettin’ to know my new daughter-in-law.”

  I sighed. “Weren’t you the one who was supposed to be getting married again?”

  “Pfft…,” he said, waving his arm. “Your mother is all bent out of shape about something, I don’t even know what it is. Says to just forget about the whole vow thing.”

  “Really?” I asked, trying to control my temper. He obviously did something to hurt her again and from the way he was pawing Sela, it wasn’t too difficult to figure out.

  “Jack,” said Sela, trying to unwind herself from his embrace. “You should really look for Mimi.”

  “Oh, she’ll be fine,” he said, swaying. “Hey, want to go for a swim?” he asked, tugging at his clothes.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” I asked, stepping closer to him.

  “Listen up!” hollered Jack, who was now removing his shoes. “The pool is now open for skinny-dipping! Don’t be shy! Let’s see some tits and ass!”

  “Oh, my Gawd…” giggled Jesse. “Jack’s completely wasted.”

  There were about sixty or so people, gathered around the pool watching Jack’s little performance. Many of the younger guys were cheering him on while some of Mimi’s friends looked completely horrified.

  “Jack,” I hissed, grabbing his arm. “Knock this shit off. You’re making a fool out of yourself.”

  He shook my arm away. “Sela was right about you,” he said, his eyes bloodshot. “You’re a party pooper, a real fucking drag.”

  “Hey, I never said that!” cried Sela. She turned to me. “He is obviously drunk and doesn’t know what he’s saying!”

  “Oh yeah,” whispered Jack loudly. “It’s between us.”

  “Enough,” I said. “Jack, go back into the house before this episode gets more fucked up.”

  He brushed me off. “Oh, you’re such a stick in the mud. I can see why Sela needs a little more excitement in her life.”

  “Okay, enough, dad,” interrupted Jesse, looking mortified. “It’s not funny anymore.”

  Jack ignored both of us as he staggered over to Sela and pulled her against him. He smiled drunkenly. “I may be higher than a kite, but I’ll bet you’ve never been fucked that good by him, have you?” he whispered loudly into her ear.

  I stormed over to him, ripped Sela out of his arms and got right into his face. “You really fucked up,” I growled. “But the person you hurt more than anything this time around, is yourself.”

  Then I lifted him up into the air, walked over to the pool, and dropped him in.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Sinclair

  My skull felt like someone had hit it with a sledgehammer when I finally regained consciousness. As my mind began to clear, I realized that I was in someone’s dingy basement, on a mattress which had been pushed to the corner of a laundry room. The place was dark, except for a small nightlight next to me, and had a weird smell, one that I couldn’t quite figure out.

  “Oh, my God,” I shuddered, as the memories of the last few hours resurfaced.

  I scrambled away from the mattress and hurried up the wooden steps.

  “No,” I moaned, jiggling the door, finding it locked.

  Frantic, I went back downstairs to look for another way out and found a window above the dryer. I climbed on top and moved the curtain away, only to find the window boarded up.

  Why? I wondered, trying to remain calm. This guy was a man of the church, why in the name of God would he do something like this?

  As I stared outside through a small hole in the wood, I couldn’t see anything but darkness and trees. I wondered if I was in some kind of cabin and what he meant to do with me. His talk of the two of us being together and the glazed look in his eyes had given me the chills. He was obviously insane.

  The sound of someone whistling startled me. I looked around the room for something to defend myself with, but there was nothing but a jug of clothing detergent and a box of dryer sheets.

  “Hello,” smiled the Pastor as he walked down the steps carrying a tray of food. As he stepped closer, I was surprised to find that he’d undergone some major changes. He was now dressed in jeans and a black sweatshirt, his glasses were gone, and his moustache missing.

  “What in the hell are you doing?” I blurted out. “Why did you kidnap me?”

  He set the tray of food down on the nightstand. “I must admit, your language and anger are quite disturbing, my dear. Please calm down.”

  I stepped towards him. “Calm down?! Are you fucking nuts?”

  His face turned red, and before I knew what was happening, his hand was around my neck and I was being slammed against the wall. “Shut up,” he whispered, his eyes bulging out of his face.

  My own were filled with tears as I struggled to break free, but he was much too strong. “Please,” I gasped as his fingers dug deep into my neck.

  “Please what?” he asked.

  “Please,” I begged in a hoarse whisper. “I beg you.”

  His eyes widened and he let me go, backing away. “I’m sorry,” he said.

  “Why?” I choked. “Why are you doing this?”

  He took a step towards me. “I didn’t mean… you shouldn’t…”

  I moved away from him. “Please, just leave me alone and let me go home.”

  He began wringing his hands. “No, no, no. This isn’t going the way it was supposed to.”

  “Why are you doing this?” I tried again. “You’re supposed to be a man of God, aren’t you?”

  “This has nothing to do with God,” he said, his lips thinning.

  “Obviously,” I said, wondering if I should try to make a run for it.

  “You still don’t remember me?” he asked incredulously.

  “Am I supposed to?”

  He sighed. “From the salon. You cut my hair in the past, several times.”

  My eyes widened. I had cut his hair. The last time was about two months ago. But now, he looked so different.

  Thinner.

  “You’ve lost weight,” I said.

  He smiled and stood up straight. “Yes. I’ve lost about forty pounds. I did it for you.”

  I stared at him in horror. “For me? I just don’t understand, why?”

  He ignored the question. “Here,” he said, pointing towards the tray of food. “Eat something. You’re probably very hungry.”

  I licked my lips. Obviously he was crazy, but he was also obsessed with me. If I could somehow manipulate him…

  “I have a headache, Pastor,” I said, forcing a smile. “Do you have any aspirin?”

  “Yes, of course,” he said. “But call me Michael. I’m no longer a Pastor.”

  “Oh, okay. Michael, could you please get me something for this headache?”

  “Yes. Would you like to come upstairs?”

  “Sure,” I said.

  He reached into back of his pants and pulled out a set of handcuffs. “Okay, but I’ll need to handcuff you first,” he said, pulling a set out.

  Crap.

  “You don’t need to use those,” I said. “I’m not going to try
and escape.”

  He smiled. “That’s good, but I still can’t take that chance. Hold out your hands.”

  “But…”

  “The cuffs or you stay down here,” he said. “Until we come to an understanding, at least.”

  “What kind of understanding?”

  His eyes moved to my cleavage and I immediately understood.

  “Oh, why didn’t you just say so?” I asked. There was no way I’d have sex with this guy but I could at least hurt him.

  He gave me a surprised look.

  I took a step towards him and pushed out my chest, hoping he couldn’t see the disgust in my eyes. “Michael.”

  He touched my cheek and I tried not to shrink back. “I knew you felt the same way,” he beamed. “I just knew it.”

  “I did too, the moment I met you,” I said. “In fact, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

  “Would… would you touch me?” he asked, breathing a little harder.

  “Where?” I whispered, hoping he had some kind of weird hair fetish and only really wanted my hands there.

  He grabbed my hand and pressed it to his lips. “Touch me wherever you’d like,” he whispered.

  At that moment, I really wanted to just kick him in the balls and make a run for it, but I was still too frightened.

  What if I missed or didn’t kick him hard enough?

  Instead, I placed a hand on his chest and began rubbing it. “Does this feel good?” I asked.

  “Yes, oh yes,” he said, stopping my hand with his. “But I need…” he lowered my hand to the bulge in his jeans, “you here.”

  I swallowed back the bile in my throat and forced myself to touch the disgusting thing hidden under his pants. If he had an orgasm, there was no doubt in my mind that I was going to throw up. I had to get out of this.

  “Yes,” he groaned, staring at me, his eyes half-hooded. “Now, take it out.”

  Oh God, no…

  “Please,” he said, unbuttoning his jeans. “Just touch… a little. It’s all I ask.”