by Deja Voss
That’s all. Just fun.
“Can we go get some fresh air?” I ask. “I promise we won’t be long.”
“Sure,” Driller says, giving me a weird look. We walk out the front door of the shop into the brisk September afternoon. “Don’t you want to stick around and see what we can find?”
“We’re not gonna find anything in there. My father was a very paranoid man. He didn’t keep important stuff laying around the shop. He rented a storage garage about twenty minutes outside of town. I don’t know if he listed it in the will but we should probably get over there before anybody else does just to be on the safe side.”
He furrows his brow and hands me his leather jacket. “You been on a bike before?”
I shake my head, reluctant to take the jacket. “If I put this thing on, it doesn’t mean I’m your property or some bullshit?” I double-check.
“That’s my cut, babe. The only thing it means if you put that jacket on is I’m not an asshole. You’ll freeze your tits off if you don’t. We’ll save the cut for our second date.”
I laugh it off, but he doesn’t seem to be kidding.
“You really think an appropriate first date is taking a woman to her dead father’s grungy old storage shed?” I ask as we walk to his bike.
“We’ll get dinner on the way home.” He licks his lips like he’s about to devour me whole, and I pretend like I’m so busy trying to zip this giant jacket up that I don’t notice.
The roar of the engine sends a chill down my spine. When I hop on behind him, the vibration of the machine is like nothing I’ve ever felt — thrilling, daring, sexy. I try to casually wrap my arms around his waist as platonically as possible, but as soon as he pulls out onto the road, I grip him tighter, partially out of fear, and partially because, for whatever reason, I know this man will keep me safe.
I know I can trust him with my life.
He wouldn’t put me in a position to get hurt, and this is all the proof I need.
Chapter Sixteen
Driller:
There’s something so perfect about having a woman all smooshed up against you on the back of a bike. Not just the tits in your back part, but the two bodies working as one, taming the road ahead and tempting fate kind of thing. It’s kind of like fucking. Maybe it’s just foreplay. All I know is she’s grinning from ear to ear as we walk up to the storage shed, hobbling like a cowboy. I can think of a couple ways to keep her walking like that for a long time.
She puts the key in the lock and I pull the heavy door up. We both look at each other with wide eyes at the contents inside. It looks like a hoarder’s paradise: stacks of cardboard boxes, totes, papers, blankets, everything jammed in to the point that I’m surprised it’s not all spilling out on the sidewalk.
“Feast your eyes on my inheritance,” she mumbles. “Jesus, I didn’t realize it got this bad.”
I start pulling down boxes from the top and setting them on the ground by her feet.
“Do you even know what we’re looking for?”
“Your guess is as good as mine,” she says as she starts pulling out random wires and old phones from the box. “I’m gonna be in a nursing home by the time we get through all this.”
I pull out box after box, and with each one she goes through she’s becoming increasingly frustrated.
“I wish he was still here,” she says. “one, because I miss him, and two, because I want to kick his ass for not taking this stuff to the dump or donating it. He probably planned this all along, Driller. He’s probably laughing at us from wherever he is.”
“What, you think he’s a ghost or some shit watching everything you do?” I ask.
“I hope not,” she says. “And if he is, then this is what he’s gonna get for leaving me with this mess to clean up.”
She catches me off guard as she pulls me into the cleared out space I’ve made in the garage. She unzips my jacket and hangs it on the corner of a box as I watch in fascination.
“I figure we need to get this out of our system now,” she says, pulling her hoodie up over her head. I don’t know if I’m more transfixed on the way her tits roll over the top of her bra or the way she thinks what we have is like some kind of virus that needs purged from our bodies.
“What if I’m not the kind of guy that fucks on the first date?” I tease, watching her step out of her sweatpants. Did I want to be the one who ripped those things off her perfect curvy body? Sure. But knowing her life is kind of out of control right now, I’d let her be in charge. Anything to make her happy.
She drops to her knees in front of me and reaches for my belt.
“This is definitely not a date,” she says, tugging my pants down over my thighs. My dick is already bursting through my boxer briefs, but she’s had that effect on me since the moment I laid eyes on her. I love the look on her face as she frees my cock from the fabric.
“Oh my god,” she whispers. “I can’t fit that thing inside me!”
“Get it wet,” I say, reaching for her ponytail.
The sight of her lips parting to take the tip of my cock in her mouth is enough to make me want to bust right now. Her eyes lock with mine as she relaxes her jaw and her warm wet tongue circles my cock.
“You look so perfect with a cock in your mouth,” I groan as she takes me deeper, sputtering a little as I hit the back of her throat. Her tears are the prettiest kind, that desperate kind, and I use her hair as a grip, sliding her mouth back and forth as I fuck her gorgeous face.
“You gonna take my load like a nice little slut?” I ask.
“Mmm,” she says, and I know from that second I’ll never get enough of this chick trying to talk with my dick down her throat. So perfect. I’ll never get her out of my system. I might be filling her mouth with my jizz right now, but whatever I have inside of me for her is unlimited. As she swallows down my load and licks her lips, I only want more.
I pick her up from the floor and set her body up on an old desk, parting her thighs as I kiss down her neck, drawing out those sweet sighs. As I thumb her already soaked panties, she squirms, trying to close her legs.
“You’re not gonna let me return the favor?” I ask, freeing her hardened nipples from her bra. “Something you need to know about me, babe, is I’m relentless. I’m not gonna stop til you cum your brains out. I’m gonna lick you til you explode, and then I’m going to do it again. You’re gonna be begging for my cock in that wet cunt of yours, and then you’re going to be begging for it in your ass. You don’t know what you got yourself into.”
The way her eyes grow wide as saucers gets me hard all over again. I rip her panties off and part her sweet folds, devouring her essence like a starving man. It doesn’t take long before she’s writhing around like she’s possessed.
She is possessed. By me. She’s mine now, even if it’s just for the thirty seconds she’s calling me God and levitating off this dusty old desk in ecstasy. As her fingers grip my hair, damn near pulling it out, I take that as a sign to keep going.
She woke up this beast in me and the only way I’m going to be able to get it back in the box is by getting inside her.
I hand her a condom and she unwraps it with the kind of fervor that lets me know she’s on board.
“Spread your legs,” I growl, as I slip it over my dick. “I wanna see how wet I make you.”
Apprehensively, she parts her thighs so I can see it all. That perfect cunt. That tight little ass. Mine.
I push her knees to her chest as I drive into her, and instantly her pussy begins to gush.
Her squeals are heavenly. The way she bucks as I slam in and out of her is enough to push me over the edge. I knew there was a little biker bitch inside of her, desperate to be claimed. I only wish we would’ve skipped all the drama and started right into the good stuff.
“You gonna cum for me?” I ask, reveling in the way her tight cunt is contracting around me like she’s just about to go. I thumb her clit and she starts to scream louder.
I press
my lips to hers, catching her moans, letting her milk my cock dry as we finish together.
As I pull out, I can’t help but want to pat myself on the back while she sprawls out on the desk, smiling contentedly.
“Don’t even pretend like that was a one and done thing, babe,” I say with a laugh, tugging her bra back up. “Don’t even pretend like you’re not gonna be dreaming of my dick inside you for the rest of your life. I promise as long as I’m alive, you’ll never be able to get me out of your system. I’ll do whatever it takes to make damn sure of it.”
She smiles up at me and reaches for my face.
“Little bit cocky, wouldn’t you say?”
“I’ve never heard anyone use little and cock in the same sentence around me, Pearl.” I peck at her lips. “I think I got more than enough for you to handle.”
She bites my lip teasingly.
“What were we supposed to be doing here again?”
“I really don’t know, I think you just dragged me out here to try and get me naked.”
I’m about to bury my face in her tits as the sound of a car pulling into the gravel parking lot catches my attention. I quickly pull up my pants and cover her body with mine as I look over my shoulder at the headlights shining directly inside the storage shed.
“You think somebody called security on us?”
I push her back behind a stack of boxes and hand her her clothes as I check my holster. By the time I make it to the garage door, the car is pulling out. I can’t make out the numbers the New York license plate and I want to believe it’s just some one-off coincidence, but something inside me just ain’t sitting right.
I nearly jump out of my skin when I feel her hand on my back.
“Who was it?” she asks.
“I don’t know,” I say as I tuck her under my shoulder. “You sure nobody else knows about this place?”
“If it wasn’t in the will, I don’t know who possibly could. It was probably just random.”
I kiss the top of her head. Just random. Just like the last few days of my life. Just like Uncle Stoney’s episode and Vinnie’s death the next day. Just like this perfect angel being dropped right in my lap. I’ve lived this life long enough to know that random is usually just an excuse to be ignorant, and now that I’ve found this woman I don’t have the luxury of being ignorant.
“Are you taking me out for dinner like you promised?” she asks.
“Anywhere you want, babe,” I say, pulling down the heavy garage door and looking both ways before we head to my bike.
Chapter Seventeen
Pearl:
I thought it was going to be more awkward trying to look him in the eye after what happened, but instead, I’m shoveling spaghetti in my mouth without a care in the world. I guess maybe this isn’t the worst thing that could possibly happen to me.
“Told you this place was awesome.” Driller is on his fourth slice of pizza. We’re the only people in the restaurant, and I think the waitress is getting restless because she wants to close down, but I also can’t help but notice the way she keeps eye fucking him.
I giggle to myself. Too bad, sweetie, I had the real thing.
“What?” he stammers.
“I didn’t say that out loud, did I?” I say, my face turning red. He’s been kind of quiet since we got here. Distant. Constantly looking over his shoulder. Not rude or anything; in fact, his hand hasn’t left my knee since we sat down in the booth next to each other. I’ve always thought people who did that were so cheesy, but for some reason, with him, I don’t care what anybody might have to say about our seating choice.
“I’m sorry, I’m just a little on edge, babe. Ain’t your fault. This pizza is pretty awesome, but not as delicious as you.”
I slap my hands over my face, feeling a blush run over my body.
“Why are you like that?” he asks.
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. You’re accomplished, you’re talented, you aren’t afraid to speak your mind about anything. You’re the kind of woman who gets what she wants. Why is it every time somebody says something nice to you, you get all… red?” He brushes my hair out of my face and presses his lips together in a sexy pout.
“You know, my dad taught me a lot of things, but how to accept a compliment isn’t one of them, I guess. I’m used to being a lone wolf, fighting for everything I have. The tattoo industry is getting better, but it’s not exactly a great work environment for women. You have to be thick-skinned. Usually when someone compliments me, it’s because they want something from me. Then, if I get a spot in a shop, or a promotion, or whatever, it turns around to ‘it’s only because I look a certain way,’ or ‘I fucked my way there.’ Guess I’ve just learned to be oblivious?”
“The color of your skin right now is anything but oblivious, doll,” he says.
“I don’t know. You’re different.”
I reach for my fork and shovel a huge bite into my mouth, hoping to deflect any follow-up questions.
He seems content with that answer and goes back to his pizza.
“I think it’s bullshit anybody ever made you feel that way, Pearl. You know when we get the shop reopened, I’ll make sure with my dying breath you’re the one calling all the shots. You’re not gonna have to fight anymore. It’s gonna be all yours.”
I gulp down my water, a million thoughts racing through my head. I hope he’s right, but on one hand, I’m still not certain I have what it takes. I know I can do the best tattoos in the state. I’m just completely oblivious to the business side of things.
“You really think I have what it takes? You don’t have to say that just to be nice.”
“I don’t know where you get this idea that I do anything just to be nice.”
I think back to that time at the old apartment where he took care of me, no questions asked, when I got drunk and made a mess of my life. He didn’t try anything. Didn’t ask for anything. Didn’t even say anything to anyone in school.
“That night I puked all over the hall,” I blurt out. “You could’ve done anything you wanted. I was so blacked out, you could’ve robbed the place. You could’ve taken advantage of me. You didn’t, though. You were nice.”
“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, but not taking advantage of a drunk girl isn’t nice. It’s what humans do. I don’t know where you get off thinking I’m some sort of subhuman piece of shit.” He looks stunned. Hurt. “What kind of people do you run around with, Pearl?”
“I didn’t mean it that way! We were young. Our brains weren’t fully developed. Obviously it didn’t stop Brad from…” I stop mid-sentence. This is why I can’t be close to anybody. This is why I don’t take compliments. Three minutes later and I’m digging up bones and saying things I shouldn’t say. I’m an idiot.
“What did Brad do?” he growls, his face growing red.
“Nothing,” I say. “It was a mistake.”
“Pearl, I will put up with just about anything you throw my way, but not this. Tell me right now. Did he hurt you?”
“It wasn’t like that. It didn’t get that far. Riley woke up. I swear, it’s nothing. We were kids. He probably just got in the wrong bed.”
He has a look of rage in his eye that I haven’t seen before.
“Seriously, Driller, calm down. It was a long time ago. I handled it.”
“And I trust you did, babe. But the club has our own way of handling this type of shit.”
Fear runs through my veins, turning my body ice-cold. “I am begging you, Driller. I already lost my best friend for three of the saddest years of my life over this shit. I’m not trying to lose you, too. I don’t want to fight anymore. I’m such an idiot for even saying anything.”
“You’re not gonna lose me, Pearl. Nothing you do or say is gonna change the way I feel about you. You’re stuck with me now. I’m gonna be right by your side no matter what happens, and you have my word.” His voice grows lower as he softly strokes my knee. “I can’t
give you those terrible years back, but I can promise you’ll never go through that again.”
“You’re not going to tell anybody, are you?” I plead. I want to believe the guys in the MC are all like him, but I also know Brad is Stoney’s son. I can hardly imagine he would take my word over the word of his own child.
“Not now,” he says. “But I’m going to handle it.”
I set my fork down on my plate, and as if the waitress has a sixth sense for knowing shit’s going sideways, she comes rushing over to the table, her eyes locked on Driller.
He seems to have a sixth sense, too, and he pulls me in for a kiss on the lips just as she approaches with the check. I don’t fight it. In that moment, I know everything is going to be alright.
Chapter Eighteen
Pearl
The ride back to town is chilly as hell, even though I’m clinging to Driller with all my might and have my head tucked in between his strong shoulder blades. My teeth chatter and I think my leg hair grows about three inches due to the cold, and as we wind through the dirt roads in the pitch darkness I can tell he’s taking it slow because I’m back here. It’s kind of sweet. It’s Driller as a whole, shockingly thoughtful about the little things.
We go straight to the clubhouse, and I look forward to another hot shower. I can’t help but wonder what things are going to be like between us since we hooked up. I’m not asking for a boyfriend, I’m not asking him to suddenly be by my side every second of every day, but the truth is, the more I’m around him, the more I like to be near him.
The more I crave him.
The more I want to rip his clothes off and mount him, then stay up all night cuddling and talking. He’s turning me soft. He’s making me weak. This is not part of the plan.
He parks his bike in a line with a bunch of other ones. I slide off the back, not really sure what I’m waiting for. My legs feel wobbly and I’d like to go inside and warm up, but judging by the noise coming from the house I’m walking into an entirely different place than I was last night.