But do I want to be a part of another gang after all I’ve been through? I don’t know but I do know I need to rest my head a while and figure out where I’m going and how I’m going to make it back from having absolutely nothing to my name.
Destitute is not a good feeling. Hence I’ll resist the temptation to ask him where he’s been and why he left his club and a woman that wanted him.
Crew has my gaze trapped inside his still. I feel like he read all those thoughts that went through me, like my eyes were a phone screen scrolling my information. My thighs start to tremble but that has to be from my earlier long distance escape marathon, surely.
I can feel the tension in the room around us, in myself and also in Crew. His muscles are taut and emanating immense heat into the atmosphere.
“You old bastard.” A voice to one side, gruff and hoarse. “So you finally made your escape.”
Crew startles as though he’d forgotten we were surrounded by forty other people. He turns to face the tall man with graying temples and gnarled leathery skin. He stretches his arms wide.
“Come here, you little jail-breaker.”
4
Crew
I toss the bloodied towel onto a tabletop populated by Hang Arounds I don’t recognize. With regret I break contact with Raven and saunter over to where Sting, The Stinger as he’s often called, due to the vicious bite he can apply to anyone that crosses him, is waiting for me to come to him.
Because of course he’s not going to make the move in my direction. It’s all about the power and the pissing contest. Already.
Just the same as before. I’ve only been out a couple of hours.
“How was it?” He asks with a leer.
“Same as usual?” I shrug.
Although it was my first time in the hole, most of us in the club have done a stint. Comes with the territory and you don’t whine about it.
But I didn’t want Raven to find out I just escaped from prison, not like this.
I glance across at her and the look of confusion on her features sears at my groin but the Prez is in the room and like any leader, he commands the space. So I go over to him, feeling all eyes on my back and we embrace heartily.
He congratulates me again on my new found freedom.
“Hard fucking won.” I grit through my teeth.
Scrappy wasn’t too far off the mark when he made his crack about digging my way out with a plastic spoon.
“And you’ve bought a mate along.”
Sting turns his interest to shine on Raven. I immediately sense a wall of defense rise in my skin lining. I don’t want him looking at her or anywhere near her.
There hasn’t been a woman of mine that he hasn’t put the moves on in the past, then blamed it on being drunk or some shit.
I see her draw back and immediately want to go to her, take her in my arms. I don’t know what’s happened to her recently but the bangs and scrapes on her face tell me it hasn’t been pretty.
Plus I witnessed that scare with the three thugs just recently, that would have turned unpleasant for her had I not been hiding out in the trees waiting for my crew to pick me up.
“Thanks for picking me up.” I remember to tell my President. “And the stuff you got to me on the inside. It sure was helpful in making useful friends and ridding me of enemies.” I say, speaking of the drugs Sting had sent in on visits.
It’s easy enough to get anything you want on the inside, if you’ve got the right connections. Easiest was when he sent some friend of Tiffany’s who’d had a baby to visit me.
“I had a bit of a scare when the chick with the baby showed up.” I laugh. “I hadn’t planned on being a Baby Daddy any time soon. Not to mention I couldn’t remember seeing that girl ever before.” The entire club laughs. “Then I realized it was a ruse of course.”
“No Newjack is gonna run a search on a baby’s filthy diaper right?” Sting says, referring to the guards that rifle through every last thing a prison visitor brings in.
Everyone in the room laughs again, louder this time. Everyone except Raven and Tiffany who are both staring at me in shock, although for different reasons I assume.
Raven is probably wondering how the hell she was dumb enough to get on a bike with an escaped con. Well, she did admit to a death wish, so there’s that.
“So about the pretty.” Sting moves toward Raven and touches his fat fingers to her cheek.
I make a move to slap him off but restrain myself just in time. He tips her head to one side to examine her bruises.
“Why’d you have to slap her around?” He inquires. “She a mouthy one?”
“No.” I blurt out. “That wasn’t me.”
Sting’s eyes flash. “Who jammed her? She someone else’s Bitch?”
“I’m not anyone’s bitch.” Raven cries, anger flaring in her dark eyes.
Man, she’s got some huevos. I gotta admire her for her pluck.
“A man beat me so I left him. I was, um…” She falters as she catches the warning in my eyes. “Headed to the bus station when Crew saved me from some other guys - drunks.”
“She’s got a magnetic attraction for trouble.” A female voice says behind us, I’m pretty certain it was Tiffany.
“That true, little lady?” Sting asks, maintaining his grip on her chin which sets my limbs ablaze with the desire to smack him off of her.
I hate that I don’t but I got to keep it reeled in. All in good time, take it easy for now.
“Maybe.” Raven replies with more than a hint of defiance.
Shit. Why couldn’t she just be humble this once?
But Sting lets out a guffaw. “She’s a feisty one, huh?” He says to me.
Like she belongs to me which I happen to know gets Raven pissed from one comment she made earlier.
“Where’s she gonna bed down?”
Oh, I get where he’s fucking going with this line of questioning and it’s not gonna happen. Not while I’m still standing.
“There’s space to bunk in with Danny, the newest prospect.” He says.
My blood roils through my veins even harder at the thought of Raven sharing a room with a horny, pimpled kid.
“More to the point, where are you gonna sleep?” Sting says with a wry smirk.
“I assume my old room is still in the clubhouse.” I can’t resist a touch of sarcasm.
After all the room has been mine since I was twelve years old. This clubhouse has been my family home since before I was born.
“Well, we had to take out your California King to use in a movie, you know?” He guffaws again.
That bed cost a fortune and the fact that he pulled it for his porno business gets me crazy but I force the rage back down. He’s trying to bail me.
“There’s a full in there now, or is it a twin? Anyway, it’s being used by one of the prospects.”
“Well he can just unuse it.” I snarl.
I feel the shock roll through the crowded room. I don’t care. I’ve had enough showdowns in the last five years that I can take any comers. Raven is staring at me with those huge round eyes, willing me to make this tension go away. She’s counting on me.
“He can bunk in with Danny and Raven can share my room.” I announce.
“What the fuck?” Tiffany screeches from across the bar. “I’ve waited for you for five freaking years, Crew, now you’re gonna shack up with some waif ho you found on the side of the road?”
“Be quiet Tiff.” I tell her.
“No. Who is she anyway? How do we know she’s not going to bring all kinds of problems on our heads.” Tiffany shouts. “You don’t know what we went through while you were away, Crew. And Sting, you started a new rule that Pass Arounds had to cleared before they were admitted to the club.”
Silence falls on the room and everyone looks at Sting, waiting to hear his pronouncement on the situation. I look at him. I say nothing but my stare holds all the words I could spill right now.
He knows that my loyalty to him i
s for show only. And he knows that at least half the guys in the club would be loyal to me, as my father’s son, if it came to it. He hasn’t managed to fill the club with enough new prospects who don’t remember that my father started this club and was its President for nearly thirty years.
Until he was abruptly murdered.
I stare him down and as he runs his tongue around his dry lips, I take Raven by the hand and lead her across the room before he’s spoken. As we disappear through a side door into a hall, Sting offers his decision. “Sure Crew, she can stay as your guest. For now.”
I lead her through the corridor to my room at the end. I throw back the door and palm the small of her back to guide her through. I pick up the crap all over the floor, the clothes strewn around, half out of kit bags. I tear off the sheets from the bed and dump it all outside in the passage for the Prospect to deal with. I close the door and turn to face - a barrage of fists in my chest and biceps.
“What the -?”
I’m stunned by the attack but don’t really feel Raven’s tiny fists bounce off my pectoral muscles. Her face is screwed up in fury so I wonder what I’ve done besides save her ass more than once tonight.
“You’re a convict?” She squeals. “You escaped from prison tonight and you didn’t even think to tell me?”
I have to smile at the irony of it. Would she prefer I’d left her to the three drunken animals that were after her tail? She continues to pummel me, infuriated by my humor and it’s irritating more than painful.
I thought we might talk about what’s next for our futures rather than get into a fistfight. But man, she’s hot when she’s feisty.
I reach up to grab her wrists, my fingers and thumb more than encircle her bones and I force her arms down by her sides. With her strapped down, she looks up at me, mouth and eyes parted wide. And it’s just irresistible, the shock, the rage, the fierceness of her.
She struggles to free herself from my hold but of course, it’s like a fly trying to break free from a wolf.
I tip down, still grinning ear to ear, I just can’t help it. And I cover her mouth with mine. She tastes a little sour, no doubt from the stress she’s been through, the tang of the blood, but underneath there’s a sweetness that I lap up with my tongue.
She struggles harder now and kicks out, making contact with my shin but I ignore the brief pain. I probe deeper into her, exploring her mouth with avaricious need, claiming every last corner until she surrenders.
The fight goes out of her, her limbs go soft.
Then she comes back fighting.
room - king- film
5
Raven
My hands feel limp and weak, pinned down by his forceful grip. And then a burst of energy runs up and down me like a flashfire. I fight my way free of his firm hold and raise my arms to grab at him, at his clothes, his skin, whatever I can make contact with to pull him into me.
The heat of my desire for him is ripping me apart.
Crew responds in kind, he palms the back of my skull to hold my head steady while he lunges his tongue expertly around my mouth. Sparks fly to my pussy, making it contract and pulsate hungrily.
I don’t know what’s happening and I don’t care. I don’t care what he is and what he’s done. All I want is for Crew to strip me naked and cover every inch of me with his agile mouth and lips.
His free hand is on my thigh then it slides up, over my pelvis, making tingles sparkle through my core, up and up under my tee shirt, over my belly until he finds his mark and cups my breast to squeeze the flesh while pinching the erect nipple between finger and thumb.
More.
I want so much more that it hurts.
I want his hands spreading my pussy open and that tongue delving into the hidden folds. I don’t care that he’s a bad man, a man who just broke out of prison and who is surely the subject of a manhunt now.
He’s the sexiest man I’ve ever laid eyes on and he’s mine now.
Almost mine. I need him buried inside of me more than I need to rest, or eat, or breathe.
Any resistance because of how crazy this is, that we’ve known each other a few hours and that he’s a wanted criminal, vanishes into the air, which is stifling with the aroma of our lust.
He spins me around and pushes me up against the wall so I’m reminded of the episode where he had me pinned against the tree and how much I hungered for his cock then.
My hands glide down, marveling at his stupendous body - it makes sense now that he’s boulder-hard, seeing as prisoners don’t get to do much besides go to the gym. His stomach flexes with his panting breaths and the heat pours out of his pores.
My fingers grope at his belt buckle then are consumed by the massive bulge in his jeans.
Ohmigod - Trev was a skinny guy but he was well strapped, Crew on the other hand is enormous. Bigger than imagination could ever extend to.
I tremble slightly imagining how he’s going to fit. How he’s going to stretch my chasm to its limit, break my walls down until they surrender to his force. And that makes my frenzy take flight - now my fertile imagination is rocking.
I pinch and mound at the thick denim, stretched to the limit by his solid prick - and he moans into my mouth. He’s like a wild man, a beast, his hands everywhere at once, pinching, stroking, making my pores thrill all over my skin.
It suddenly occurs to me that if he’s been incarcerated he hasn’t laid hands on a woman in all that time. Years without intimacy or even the touch of another on his skin. He’s a prison virgin and I’ll be his first. Well first in a long time that is. Because he’s far too expert a lover to have forgotten or fallen out of practice.
My body craves his hands all over me and his shaft buried up to the root, driving into me hard and fast.
The air in the room is thick with our hunger for each other. I can’t inhale much beyond my throat and that’s not only because Crew dominates my mouth, ravaging it as though he’s taking control of my body, claiming me, fucking me before we’ve even gotten our clothes off.
I am willing him to work his way down between my legs. The throbbing at my clit is unbearable, making me shudder with out of control need.
But even as I mangle his bulge in my fingers, trying to get connection through the taut fabric, Crew is focused on his deep dive between my lips. He seems very involved with the swirl of his tongue entangling with mine and his hands on my bare skin under my tee.
“Please.” I groan.
I need his fingers, his tongue, inside me so bad I’m willing to beg.
That one word breaks the spell of our lust. All of a sudden Crew unsuctions his mouth from mine and buries his face into the side of my neck. His heavy panting breath is hot on my skin and makes the unleashed desire all the more agonizing. He mutters something, his lips moving across that sensitive area on my neck, sending chills up and down my limbs.
“What?” I say, my hands still lingering at his zipper, poised to drag it down and free his burning erection.
“I had no right.” He mutters.
So I was correct in my first thought - he was saying sorry before.
“What? No!” I exclaim.
What the hell is he talking about?
I want to plead with him not to stop, to go back to exactly what he was doing.
If I have any complaint at all, which I don’t, it’s that he wasn’t doing more of it. But I was always greedy as a child. It comes from having nothing, that when you get something you want to consume it fast, gobble it down before it’s taken from you.
Somewhere inside I’m afraid Crew will be taken from me. And as usual, my fear has turned to reality. But it wasn’t Tiffany that took him, it was my own insatiable hunger.
“Your skin is so soft.” He moans. “You feel like satin under my fingers.”
“That’s good.” I blunder. “Right? You want more of that.”
I’m almost shaking him now, trying to push him out of this stupor he’s dropped into.
Something t
ells me I’m not going to get the moment back now. It’s slipped away like sand blown off the beach and I’ll never get it back. I can’t believe I had Crew’s amazing body covering mine twice tonight and lost my chance to possess him on both occasions.
“I’ve been alone for a few years.” He says in explanation. “I haven’t touched a woman or felt one touch me. Ever since I set eyes on you, panting for breath in the parking lot… well… never mind. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
No! My body howls its resistance. This is the first time, maybe ever, that I’ve actually wanted a man’s body inside of mine. And he has to be the only one to respect my flesh, to apologize for taking advantage of it?
“What’s so funny?” Crew asks, pushing himself up by palming the wall either side of my head and noticing my wry disbelief.
“Oh you wouldn’t understand.” I say, snarkily.
“You’ve written me off already?”
“No. I… I’m surprised.” I manage to say, when what I really mean is I’m disappointed.
But I don’t have the right to say that. Seems like neither one of us has any rights.
“To find out the truth about me?” He says, with a mangled smile of his own.
“What? Oh that - “ I’d forgotten all about his criminality in the heat of the moment. “To be honest, you aren’t any badder for having been incarcerated than most of the men that manage to escape it.” I say bluntly.
“Yeah, justice can be a bitch.” He says.
He’s all business now, hunting through the closet for some fresh sheets to put on the bed. When he pulls some dark blue ones out, I go to the other side of the mattress to help him. It seems so domestic, making up the bed together, in our shared room.
I force my thwarted desire back down with difficulty, knowing you can’t force a man like Crew. Doing so might drive him away.
“Hey thanks for getting me out of another bind.” I say. “You know, bedding down with some strange dude.”
Biker Escape Page 3