by Ethan Egorov
“Okay… you sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure. Don’t worry, I was just being… you know.” I giggle.
His chuckle is short, “Yes, I know. I’ll pick you up around six.” He says. He already knows that I like to do things earlier in the day since I have to go to work early.
“Sounds perfect. See you then.” I say.
“See ya,” he hangs up and I stare at my blank phone until I can calm my breath.
It really isn’t a big deal, and I keep reminding myself that as I pass the hours away.
I tug on a pair of jeans and add a plain yellow sweater to it. The sweater wasn’t my first choice but I didn’t have much of one considering I haven’t done laundry in a long time. I brush through my hair and put a little bit of lip gloss on, I learned to stop wearing makeup after smearing it all over the back of Roland’s cut. It was the first time I saw him any less than calm, when he had to clean it off. He treats that thing like a child, his bike too. I grow more excited to see him as the minutes pass, even though I saw him this morning.
Soon enough, his heavy knock on the door fills the apartment and I’m rushing to it.
“Hey,” I smile after swinging the door open, facing a sexy as all hell Roland. His jeans are a lighter blue wash today, his tee shirt gray and tight and cut the same as ever. It’s his windblown hair that gets me every time, the way it lifts and falls off to the side, leaving his square jaw to shape his face and full lips to smile at me.
“Hey. You look like sunshine.” He holds my gaze as he steps inside and then sweeps me up with a kiss, one that makes my toes curl and body weak. I wrap my arms around his neck to hold myself up as I lean into it, and his arms cinch around my waist as he holds me close.
His lips start a rough onslaught over mine before he adds his tongue, tasting me and filling me with his rugged scent and hard grasp. I moan against him when my body cements to his, feeling his cock stir against my thigh. He swings us around and presses me against the wall, kissing me like it’s been days since we have seen each other and not simple hours. But it feels that way.
“Fuck, I missed you all day.” He kisses down my neck, giving me a chance to breathe and I gasp for air.
“I missed you too.” I cinch my fingers in his hair and hold him to me as he suckles my skin. Then I slide my hands down his body and wrap around his back underneath his cut to feel his muscles.
“You look sexy as hell.” He growls, puling back. I see his swollen lips and flushed cheeks for a flash before he kisses me again.
Our teeth clash with the rush and the immediacy of it, needing to be against each other. I wrap my legs around his waist and hold him to me as he kisses me harder, swirling his tongue with mine until I feel it all over my body, making me practically gush for him. It is crazy how much I want this man, how much I need to have him, and it is just as scary.
He suddenly breaks the kiss and pulls back; he combs his hair back and I try to fix myself back up as I smile.
“We should go, before we get out of hand.” He grins, saying in his deep voice.
I nod, “Yeah.” I laugh once.
He takes my hand and leads me out and down to his bike, passing neighbors have a lingering look but I am used to that by now.
I wrap myself to him as close as possible, like I always do, and enjoy the ride. I stopped closing my eyes the whole time and seeing everything whip past me in a rush but being pressed up against him is an unexplainable feeling, but one that I have gotten used to.
What is new is pulling up to the club with everyone staring at me. I wish I were exaggerating, but I’m not. There are people piling in and out of the club, and Roland is holding my hand as we walk inside. He squeezes me tight when he senses me lagging.
“Don’t worry about them, they just want some gossip.” He leans down and kisses my cheek, brushing his lips against my ear. I nod just as we walk inside and my eyes adjust to the dark light.
The room is huge but has plenty of people in it, more men in cuts that are in all sizes, but have the same hard look on their face. Roland leads me to the bar where there are empty seats, his brother is at the bar again and greets us.
“What’s up red, my brother drag you out here to this hell hole?” He strides across and grins, I see the easy similarities between them even more, especially when they smile.
“He sure did.” I smile and get settled in the seat Roland pulled out for me, then he sits next to me, close by so our knees are touching.
“Something sweet?” He asks me and I confirm. He leaves and comes back with a beer for Roland and a drink for me.
“See, it’s not so bad?” He grins at me, nudging his shoulder against me. I lean against him and smile, it is kind of nice being here with him. I feel like I am part of his life without fully committing to him, if that makes any sense at all, but it is the only thing I can seem to convince myself of.
I sip my drink and watch the flat screen posted above the bar, showing a random basketball game.
“Rafe!” Some guy calls out from behind us, and I don’t know what the hell he is saying or who he is trying to talk to until he goes up to Roland. He has dark hair and a sensible look to him, even though his colorful tattoos suggest otherwise.
“Thanks for drawing attention to me,” Roland responds as he shakes his hand.
I smile to myself watching them interact like old friends, I suppose they are.
“I’ll keep the guys away from you. Who’s this?” He nods to me from the other side of Roland where he stands. I part my lips to speak before he adds something else. “I should call you Arielle. Cause of the hair.” He smiles and even though I only have eyes for Roland, I can sense the swooning potential.
“This is Paige,” Roland answers, “Paige, this is Kit.” He explains with a neutral tone. I can tell he is brushing it off like he isn’t introducing people that are important to him, it’s kind of endearing.
“I’m his one and only friend, don’t let him fool you.”
“Hey!” Spencer shouts from down the bar and we all laugh.
“Brothers don’t count.” Roland mutters, and he leans in closer to Kit like I can’t hear him, but I still eavesdrop when I can’t help it. “You took care of that thing earlier?” I watch Kit’s face in the corner of my eye get serious when he nods.
“I’ll keep the guys off your back. See ya later, Arielle.” He waves and means it, which just makes me laugh.
“He’s a hoot.” I laugh once.
Roland shakes his head at me but grins. “He was my first friend here. Let me crash in his place when I first joined the club.” He explains.
“Oh. That’s nice. He seems great.” I say, which only makes him laugh.
“He’s a man whore, don’t give him too much credit.” He deadpans and that only makes me laugh now.
“I figured most of the guys here are. I mean, women like the whole bad boy biker thing I assume.” I sip my drink and let the heat leave my face when I feel him looking at me.
He turns so I am between his legs and can lean in closer to me, making my skin flutter and heart skip.
“Do they?” He smirks.
I bite my lip and turn my head to him, close enough to feel his breath on my lips.
“Sure.”
“Is that what attracts you to me? The bike?”
“No, because you aren’t always on your bike.” I giggle once. He leans in close enough to be at my ear and his lips brush against me. I forget we are even in public, but I walked in to see people fondling each other at the pool tables and making out by the dart board.
“So you like the other thing you can ride then?” His voice drops and I feel my legs tightening, pooling up between my legs. My mouth goes dry and I feel the slight alcohol slipping through my system.
“Maybe.” I whisper.
He pulls away and softly kisses my cheek as he does. I lick my lips and try to calm myself; he smirks at me knowing the affect that he has.
“We’re in public.” I warn him
, when his hand slides farther up my thigh. It is like my jeans aren’t even in the way, when I feel his heat seeping to my thighs.
“This is my place; I can do whatever I want.” He chuckles but pulls back because he knows I can only accept his occasional illegal activities and not actually partake in one.
I finish my drink while he has another beer, and then we leave the bar. Weaving through the crowd, until we get to this back room that looks like an office but isn’t really one. There is a desk and a dark leather couch, but that’s about it. There are pinned up photos and their club logo in random places that make it seem more like a museum.
“What’s this?” I ask him. He shuts the door behind him and the cinch of the lock tightens my neck.
“My office.” He steps around me and takes his cut off, tossing it on the couch. My eyes roam over his muscles and wrapping tattoos around them, getting distracted.
“Is this couch safe to sit on?” I giggle.
“What?” He gives me a funny look and laughs before sitting first and waves me forward. I sit on his lap and he wraps his arm around my thighs on the top and my body presses to his.
“My lap is more comfortable.” He kisses my shoulder where my sweater drooped down.
“So it isn’t safe then.” I tuck his hair behind his ear and do that a few times, he starts to nearly purr when I do.
“I wouldn’t know honestly. This was Tank’s office when he was pres.” He explains.
“Do you like doing it?” I ask him curiously. I get the sense that he does, but he doesn’t talk about it much either, I guess because he can’t. But he seems to have a good thing going, with all the friends he has here—family I suppose.
“Yeah, I do. It’s part of my life, I can’t imagine not doing it now either.”
I settle closer to him and look in his eyes. “What about before?”
He half smiles, “So you can ask me about my past, but I can’t take you out on a proper date?” He chuckles but I know he means it more than he is joking about it.
“It’s not like that. I mean, I want to know stuff about you I just… if things get serious and then I realize I made a mistake, I can’t go through that again.”
“You think I would hurt you?” He asks me, his jaw tightening.
“No but—” I stop, because even with my ex I had a feeling and I have none here. “I don’t think you’ll hurt me. I just need time.” I tell him honestly, I know it feels like I am asking him to wait for me with no guarantee, but the last time we talked about it briefly I gave him an out, and he didn’t want one. To know that he likes me that much is equally scary too.
“Good, cause I won’t. And you know how I feel about you.” He sighs and shakes his head a bit, looking off past me in thought. He focuses back on me and he feels even more vulnerable. I already told him about my family; being an only child and my mom passing away when I was young. My dad is a quiet man and did the best he could, a tax attorney that was as antisocial as possible. I see him once a year on Christmas but at least I have a family to go to.
“I was in foster care for a long time, Spencer and me. But he was too young to remember what our real parents were like.” He swallows.
“Were they horrible?” I don’t even start by asking if they were bad because they clearly were, if they had to be in foster care.
He gives a short nod.
“Yeah. The usual stuff, drugs, petty crime. More often than not they were arrested for something, I remember being four and staying home a lot, in one little room with Spencer.”
“You took care of him?” I ask, a bit shocked at how young he was. For some reason I just imagined him being fifteen looking after an eleven-year-old that can look out for himself, but not still a young kid.
“I had to. But I don’t let him know about all that, he doesn’t remember. Maybe he blocked it out or something, I don’t know. But it wasn’t until junior high or so when we were in and out of foster homes and he started getting into trouble. I couldn’t if I tried, I had to much—anyway. My life is better now, and I owe it to the club. I probably would have washed out, and Spencer would have too if I didn’t drag him here.”
I half smile, “That’s very big brother of you.”
“I guess I’m good at that.” He smirks.
“You’re good at a lot of things. You’re a good ‘non boyfriend’ for starters.” I giggle and kiss his cheek, mostly to try and eliminate all that heavy talk.
He sighs and holds me closer, “I guess I am.”
I don’t know what it is, but when he says that, it makes me want to be serious with him, actually call him my boyfriend. I am just afraid that once I take that leap, it will mess all the good parts up, and I don’t want that to happen—
Because now I know I need this to be real.
13
Roland
I just saw her and I already need to be with her again; Paige is under my skin, the first thing on my mind—I don’t know how else to contain it. I kiss her up against that wall like I wasn’t just buried inside her earlier, but it feels like centuries ago.
Bringing her to the club is more for me than for her. I have never brought anyone in there that I had met elsewhere. It’s a part of me, and it does feel like bringing her home, but I am glad that she agreed to go, even though I know she doesn’t want to be serious yet—not too serious at least.
My brother is already familiar with her, but the other guys at the club are none the wiser, so I freak out a bit when Kit shouts my name when I managed to slip in unnoticed. Billiard day is the time to do that.
“Thanks for drawing attention to me,” I half joke with him, because I mostly mean it. We shake hands and he leans on the bar next to me.
“I’ll keep the guys away from you. Who’s this? I should call you Arielle. Cause of the hair.” Kit smiles at Paige and he already knows she is with me, so it’s not the one he uses to flirt. I hate that I know that, but he is my best friend after all.
“This is Paige,” I tell him, “Paige, this is Kit.”
“I’m his one and only friend, don’t let him fool you.” Kit says—and it is mostly true.
“Hey!” My dufus brother shouts.
“Brothers don’t count.” I mutter, then I turn to Kit, “You took care of that thing earlier?” I ask him. I had to leave to grab Paige, I hate being late when I say I will be there at a certain time because I don’t want her to get anxious. But we were dealing with the Devil’s Princes again, they ransacked one of the convenience stores and tagged it with our logo, but luckily I know the owner and he knew we would never do that. He confirms that he did and I feel slightly better.
“I’ll keep the guys off your back. See ya later, Arielle.” He waves at Paige and I glare at him but he only chuckles in response.
“He’s a hoot.” Paige laughs softly. I glance at her in the smooth yellow sweater she has on, and I love how it bounces off her pale skin.
“He was my first friend here. Let me crash in his place when I first joined the club.” I grin.
“Oh. That’s nice. He seems great.” I laugh in response.
“He’s a man whore, don’t give him too much credit.”
“I figured most of the guys here are. I mean, women like the whole bad boy biker thing I assume.” She sips at her drink and I watch her lips curl around the straw, that small movement gets me going.
I turn so my legs are open to her and I just wish she could reach out and grab my cock right here, but I don’t want to turn her into one of these club groupies.
“Do they?”
She bites her lip and I lean in closer to feel her breath on my lips and smell the sweetness of her drink.
“Sure.”
“Is that what attracts you to me? The bike?” I lower my voice and trail my lips over to her ear.
“No because you aren’t always on your bike.” She giggles, and its breathy like she is aroused too.
“So you like the other thing you can ride then?” I drop my voice and fe
el my cock paining at the simple thought.
“Maybe.” Her whisper trails off.
I kiss her cheek and pull away in time to see her wet her lips. I smooth my hand up her thigh until it rests over her hip, my thumb almost where it wants to be.
“We’re in public.” She warns me.
“This is my place; I can do whatever I want.” I chuckle but move my hand from her for the same reason I don’t outright kiss her right now.
She finishes her drink in the same time I have a second beer. I am loose and relaxed and just want to be alone with her. Some of the times we meet up we don’t even have sex, just watch movies and cuddle—I can’t believe she turned me into a cuddler.
“What’s this?” She asks me, I have led her inside my office and let her take in the room.
“My office.” I step around her and take my cut off.
I sit on the couch with her, after her little joke that might as well be serious, because this couch has been here longer than me. But the room just smells like the rest of the bar—beer and leather.
We are having a nice, soft moment before it gets serious, and in the time I think about avoiding it, I just let it happen.
“What about before?” Her voice is soft.
I half smile at her, “So you can ask me about my past, but I can’t take you out on a proper date?” I chuckle so it doesn’t feel as bad.
“It’s not like that. I mean, I want to know stuff about you I just… if things get serious and then I realize I made a mistake, I can’t go through that again.” She says, and it is the first time I got a more direct answer.
“You think I would hurt you?”
“No but—” she stops and I hope she really believes it. “I don’t think you’ll hurt me. I just need time.”
“Good, cause I won’t. And you know how I feel about you.” I sigh and bring her closer to me on my lap. It doesn’t even feel sexual, the way we are right now, and I know that makes us more than she wants to be right now. All I can hope is that if I give her enough of me, she might give me some of herself too.