by Rye Hart
She sat up and pulled her dress overhead. She undid her bra and let it slide down her arms. Her breasts, large and milky white, were begging for my touch. I cupped them in the palms of my hands and squeezed her nipples between my thumbs and fingers. She moaned at the wonderful pain and pleasure of it.
My cock was rigid beneath her. She started sliding herself along the length of it as I rubbed her breasts. The heat was intense. I felt like I might explode any minute and I wasn’t even undressed yet.
“Let’s get you out of these clothes,” she said, tugging giddily at my shirt.
She got up long enough to shimmy out of her panties while I quickly pulled off my clothes. When I lay back, my cock stood straight up like the mast of ship, ready for her to impale her beauty on it.
She licked her lips as I wrapped my hand around it and stroked it to its full length.
“Do you want me give you another show like that night outside my cabin?”
“Yes. Please.”
I continued stroking, my hand is moving up and down in a rhythmic motion. I get a look of Sam’s face, full of lust, as if the sight of me pleasing myself in front of her has put her in a deep trance. It was enough to push me over the edge, but I needed to be patient.
“Now, I want you on top of me.”
CHAPTER THIRTY ONE: SAM WASHINGTON
Hugh took my hips and guided me over his cock. I did just as he instructed. I straddled him, bending my knees and lowering myself until I felt the head of his amazing cock touch my aching center.
I couldn’t help but smile as I held his free hand and lowered myself onto him slowly. I felt myself grow warm and wet, welcoming him deep inside of me.
It felt amazing.
He never disappoints me.
He grabs my hips and starts guiding me in a rocking rhythm.
I let my head hang and slide my hips back and forth. Hugh moves in and out as he brushes my clit with every stroke.
“Yes! Yes! Hugh… I’m going to come…” I heard myself say the words aloud. I loved the way they sounded coming in gusts of breath from my lips.
Suddenly he starts to come with me, pushing me over the edge to my own climax. I see stars from the rush of ecstasy that falls over me.
We stayed in bed all evening, whispering sweet nothings to one another and planning our life together. It was in that moment I realized just how grateful I was for all of my past heartaches and pains. Without them, I wouldn’t be able to truly appreciate the gifts Hugh brought into my life.
Passion.
Desire.
Love.
Love in the truest form, unlike anything this history nerd could ever have read about. Not even in one hundred lifetimes.
In most fairytales, all the worst things happen when they enter the woods. But not this one. My lumberjack saved me from all of that and more.
And I intend to spend the rest of my life thanking him for it.
THE END
Biker Bad Boy Romance: Heart Off Limits
Chapter One
I wasn’t exactly Miss Goodie Fucking Two Shoes. It was more like Miss Wild and Reckless. Highschool suspensions became a norm and it never even phased me. Mom said I carried a big heart, but a hard as hell shell. She tried hard to be patient and deal with my wild antics but I guess everyone has their boiling point. She didn’t want me back after all the trouble I got into on my last year of high school. Looking back, I can’t really blame her; it was a miracle they let me graduate.
She put up with me for another year and then she shipped me off to live in Altanta with Dad. Dad? It was so weird to call him that. I hadn’t seen him in almost a decade, and he was practically a complete stranger until the day I was loaded onto a bus and sent to live with him. It wasn’t the best parenting decision on my mom’s part but she didn’t know what else to do with me.
Soon after moving ship, I dropped the name dad and referred to him by his first name, Mike. Mike preferred it that way. He said dad made him feel old. He was crude and I was pretty sure he was involved in some illegal shit, but he was never home so I didn’t know the details. I preferred it that way.
I’d been here for about two years now and the relationship between the two of us hadn’t gotten any better. We were still estranged since we spent little to no time together, though I learned to expect nothing less from him. He proved to be the type of guy who didn’t care about anyone but himself. It was better that way though; at least he never got my hopes up anymore.
Mom sent me to live with him to show me that life could be worse. She wanted me to experience the hard life my father lived and she expected I would call her crying and begging her to take me back, but that little plan backfired. Here I am two years later. My family situation may be far from the Brady Bunch, but atleast I liked it here. To be honest, I liked my freedom here and I was too stubborn to go back. I had freedom like I’d never had with my mother. Mom could be a real hard ass. She became tougher as I reached the age of maturity and I assumed it was because she was afraid of losing another person in her life. I loved her with every fiber of my being but we never seemed to get passed our screwed up communication. We were two stubborn women under one roof and it was a bad combination.
I missed her everyday. If only I could tell her that.
I’m just a few months from my 21st birthday now. Mike managed to remember all my birthdays, leaving me a cupcake on the dining room table and a weird gift I never really understood. Alteast he tried when it came to my birthdays, even if it was half ass.
He had a habit of buying me presents that I’d never use. For the longest time it was nail polish, all kinds of nail polish, mostly in baby blues and pinks; colors I would never dream of wearing. He finally got the hint at some point and he bought me black. Now it was black everything, which I didn’t really mind.
I rolled onto my stomach and glanced down at the hard wood floor, running my hand over it for a moment, almost wincing at the heat that emanated from it. I liked the south, but I didn’t like the heat. Not one bit.
The sun was high in the sky now, and I figured I ought to get out of bed. I was up all night cramming for finals the night before and luckily didn’t have to be to work today but that wasn’t an excuse for me to lay in bed. I changed into black skirt and a shirt that I got at some concert I could barely remember. I threw on some boots and then I placed a black beanie over my blonde hair.
Just as I was grabbing a Pop-Tart from the sparse pantry my phone began to buzz. I pulled it out of my back pocket and answered without looking at the screen.
“Yo,” I gave my standard greeting.
“Alex?”
“Hey Gina! What’s up girl?”
Gina was my best friend. A Southern girl through and through with a kick-ass punk attitude. I loved her dearly. Being around Gine made this heat almost bearable.
“Are you working today?” she asked.
“No ma’am. I actually just got out of bed,” I hummed, popping my breakfast into the toaster. “Why?”
“There’s a big biker rally this weekend! People are coming from everywhere, even as far as Nashville. How fucking rad is that?”
“A biker rally? What would be so fun about a biker rally?” I grumbled.
I had an aversion to bikers as it were. In my mind bikers represented a community of bad news. They were dangerous, unpredictable, and had no redeeming qualities as far as I could see. I had goals of paying my way through college and graduating on time. That meant going to community college at night and working full, so I wasn’t stupid enough to get tangled with bikers. Not like my mom in her wild years. She ending up regretting every minute of it and that made a lasting impression in my life.
“Don’t be such a baby, Alex. It’ll be fun,” Gina whined.
“I don’t think so.”
“God, you’re such a downer. Fine, let’s go grab lunch and hit up some bars? That sounded like a better idea. I could use a break.
I grabbed the Pop Tart as it popped from the toa
ster and stuffed it in my mouth. “Where are we going to meet?”
“Did you really just ask me that?” she drawled.
“Majestic?”
“Duh. I want a milkshake. See you soon boo.”
I chuckled and hung up the phone, tucking it away in my pocket. Let’s see where this takes us.
Chapter Two
It was just as hot outside as I expected it to be. The air was oppressive and sweat was already starting to bead on my forehead. I brushed my fingers through my blonde hair, secretly thankful to Gina for talking me out of dying it a dark color. She warned me that it would attract the sun and get way too hot and I was grateful to her for the warning, though I’d still acted petulant about not having dark hair.
The streets were as busy as you’d expect on a hot summer afternoon. A few people were walking up and down the street in shorts and tank tops, but most people were holed up in the mall or at home where cold AC units offered relief from this fucking heat. It was the one thing I hated about Atlanta. I hated the heat. I hated the way that even the branches on the trees seemed to droop in utter defeat against it.
Luckily I didn’t have to walk too far. I lived close to a tram station and hopped on happily. I sighed with delight as the cool air hit my face. I collapsed into one of the seats and stuck headphones in my ears, not really interested in talking to anyone. People had a tendency to think that public transport was a place to make friends. They would talk your ear off if you didn’t have headphones in. It was the most annoying thing I’d ever experienced in my life.
I’d grown up in a small town just outside Boston and I wasn’t used to people poking around in my business for no reason. Folks in small towns do love to gossip but they have a tendency to do it behind your back and never to your face, so it was less invasive than what I faced here in the big city.
I got off in the heart of downtown Atlanta and walked through the street, taking in all the people. One of my favorite parts about living in a big city was people-watching. Coming from a small town where everyone looked the same, and there was little to no variation, Atlanta people-watching was like hitting the jackpot. I couldn’t go more than five feet without seeing a new look. There were Goth kids, glamour moms, and even the occasional drag queen. I loved taking in all the colors and looks.
I took evening classes at a local community college because it was all I could afford with my retails job and financial aid. I never talked about my hopes much, but I had hopes of being a fashion designer. It was my dream since I was a little girl, nose deep in Vogue and Marie Claire magazines. It was the story of my life, really. I had a tendency to curl inside of myself and block the world out. I was always good at being on my own and making things work for myself.
My mother loved me in her own way, but she loved me at a distance. She was always a guarded woman who struggled to express herself in a healthy way. Her fling with my father and subsequent marriage was her attempt at shaking things up. Obviously, that hadn’t worked out too well.
Growing up with a woman like her made me clam up just like she did. I didn’t want to be around people - I wanted to watch from a safe distance so no one could hurt me. It had affected my life in a way I hadn’t really noticed until I got into high school and really started to try and make friends. I was suddenly very aware of how isolated I was and how alone I felt.
I sighed and frowned, looking up at the brightly colored diner. The Majestic was Gina’s favorite restaurant and I couldn’t really blame her. It was an Atlanta staple and they made the best damn milkshakes.
The second I entered the diner I heard a distinct voice call for me through the relatively small building.
“Yahoo!”
I laughed and crossed over to the booth where Gina had already made herself at home. She was leaning against the wall with her feet kicked up in the booth while she sipped on her orange milkshake.
“Took you long enough,” she teased.
I shrugged and smiled as I settled across from her and stole a few fries. “You know I take the tram.”
“Subway?” she asked.
“Tram,” I corrected.
Gina was an Atlanta native and considered the monorail system a subway. I did not, seeing as how it was above ground. It was an argument we’d never solve. She smiled and turned to face me, putting her chin in her hands. Her grin was infectious and I couldn’t help but return it.
Gina was my best friend and one of the most beautiful girls I’d ever met. She had naturally dark hair and skin that was the color of deep mahogany. Her eyes were almost gold and reminded me of honey. She could have been a damn model if she wanted to. Too bad she was more interested in biology.
The average person wouldn’t expect us to be friends. Gina got herself into her fair share of trouble, but she made up for it with her ridiculous intelligence. She was a freshman at the University of Georgia and lived on campus. She came home during the weekends, but I didn’t see her as much as I would have liked. Gina was one of my only friends and when she wasn’t in Atlanta this massive city felt so damn lonely.
“You don’t look like you’re ready to go to the bar,” I murmured, eyeing her fitted jeans and tank top.
Gina snorted a little and crossed her arms over her chest. “Girl, you know my mama wouldn’t let me leave in club gear,” she said holding up her backpack. “What about you?”
“You know I don’t dress up for that shit,” I said, tapping my foot.
“And why not?”
“I’m just not interested in drawing the attention of guys at bars, especially if the city is going to be full of bikers,” I murmured, shrugging.
Gina didn’t really understand my aversion to bikers. They came through Atlanta often enough that the locals didn’t think much about them. They were an expected nuisance like fire ants or mosquitos. They might nip at your legs and arms, but they weren’t going to cause any real damage. I just didn’t see them that way.
I knew about the things my dad had done in his ‘wild years’. My mother told me all about the stores he burned down and the fights he started. There was even a rumor that he was involved with a drug ring and some possible murders. I wasn’t sure about the last two but I wouldn’t put it past him. He’d been an addict his whole life and never managed to break the cycle of addiction. My mom thought he was clean but I’d caught him using more than once. I’d considered telling her about this, but I didn’t really want to go back to Boston.
“You’re no fun,” Gina said with a pout, dipping her fries in her milkshake.
“I’m plenty of fun. You just like going to dangerous places and I end up being den mother. I always have to save your ass.”
“Yeah. Like that time you stopped me from going home with the guy in the Ferrari?” she snorted, rolling her eyes.
“Rich guys murder people too,” I pointed out, stealing some more fries. I didn’t want to spend my own money, so I wasn’t above stealing Gina’s food. “You’re too trusting.”
She sighed and shook her head. “No, you’re too paranoid. You have this ‘bad girl in a leather jacket’ persona, but you’re scared of your own damn shadow.”
I hated when she read me like that. Gina was going to get herself kidnapped one day and I couldn’t help but worry about her overly trusting nature.
“It’s not fear. It’s caution,” I murmured.
“Whatever you call it, it’s no fun,” she said simply.
“You say shit like that and it makes me want to go home.”
Gina sighed and got in on the same side of the booth, draping her arm around me. “I’m not being mean. I just want you to loosen up a little and have some fun.”
“I’m plenty loose.”
“No you aren’t. I can tell by those clothes. Now, let’s hit the mall so we can get you something decent to wear.”
“You aren’t going to let this go, are you?” I asked, frowning a little.
“Not until I see your perfect ass in a dress that actually shows it off.”
>
I rolled my eyes but sighed and nodded. “Fine. If it’ll shut you up.”
Gina squealed and threw her arms around me, kissing my cheek excitedly. “You’re going to be so pretty!”
I didn’t know if I should take that as a compliment or an insult and I wasn’t quite as excited as she was - but I didn’t like the idea of Gina going a place like that without me so I guess it wouldn’t hurt to pretend.
Chapter Three
“You seriously expect me to walk into the bar looking like this?” I hissed, pulling at the hem of the incredibly tight black dress.
It was made out of a fake leather and hugged every curve of my body in ways I wasn’t really enjoying. This black leather dress was a big change from my normal attire. I fucking hated it.
“You look so good! Quit whining and put your heels on!” she said, handing me heels that looked more like booties.
“I draw the line at heels,” I said quickly, turning away from her and crossing my arms.
“You’re going to look ridiculous if you wear Converse in that dress!”
“Then I’ll look ridiculous. I already told you that I’m not out here to find a man. I don’t want anything to do with those bikers,” I growled, turning away from her.
“You can be so damn stubborn,” she sighed, crossing her arms as street lights blurred past us.
We were back on the tram and heading across the city. The bar we were headed to was on the outskirts of town since biker bars didn’t normally last long in big cities. There was enough crime in downtown Atlanta and the police didn’t want to complicate the situation with a damn biker bar.
“You always throw a fit when I want to go to a biker bar.”
“It’s dangerous, okay? I know you think the world is all butterflies and sunshine but there are sick people out there and bikers can fall under that category” I said simply, still unhappy about the situation.