Rhythm of the Road

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Rhythm of the Road Page 8

by Autumn Jones Lake


  He slides hands around my waist, dipping down to gently knead my butt. “Looking forward to spending time with you.”

  “I’m sorry I scheduled that thing—”

  He stops me with a finger against my lips. “It’s not a problem.” His gaze darts to the side and he opens his mouth as if he has more to add but then shakes his head. “Let’s go.”

  I tighten the helmet on my own, but he checks to make sure it’s secure before throwing his leg over the bike in one fluid movement.

  “Come on,” he urges.

  I rest my palm on his shoulder and slide into place behind him.

  Loud, rumbling pipes shake the ground around us, vibrating against my legs and butt. He leans and lifts the kickstand, and my heart jumps. My arms tighten around his middle.

  Hanging on tight, I press into his back as he steers us down the bumpy lane. Where the gravel meets the pavement, we run into Murphy. He and Rooster signal to each other before rolling onto the next road. The chaos gathering in my heart and mind settles. The usual fretting I indulge in after a show is forgotten. Rooster’s firm presence and expert way he handles the bike ratchets up my desire again.

  Since the show isn’t over yet, we’re able to slip out of the park faster than we came in. No line of cars block our exit.

  We meet up with the rest of the club, although I don’t know exactly how many came up and if we’re all leaving at the same time. We remain at the front of the pack with Murphy and Heidi on our left.

  We take the first exit onto the main highway and increase speed. Acutely aware of the wind in my face and pavement under the wheels, I squeeze Rooster tighter. He and Murphy seem to be in tune with each other, easily passing slower vehicles and adjusting to the traffic. After a while, I lose track of the exits and roads they take, leading us farther away from my tour. The chains of responsibility tug at me, guilt for ditching my band. But I deserve a little fun. Haven’t taken a day “off” yet. Rooster won’t let me miss my show. He understands how important this is to me. I trust him.

  When he slows the bike to a crawl and finally stops, I open my eyes. Red light. We’re idling in front of a shopping center in a well-to-do suburban area.

  The light changes and the guys hit the throttle. Murphy moves ahead, leading us over slower, one-lane roads.

  After a few miles, suburbia gives way to country. The houses are farther and farther apart. We climb higher into the mountains. Thick walls of pine trees line the sides of the road. Every now and then there’s a break in the trees and a driveway or mailbox whizzes by.

  We’re so far out in the woods, I start to question where the heck Rooster’s taking me. Ahead of us, Murphy signals to the left and the bikes slow. It’s bumpy and choppy for a minute but after we clear a high gate, the tires roll onto smooth blacktop.

  Rooster guides the bike near a garage and shuts it down. Murphy backs in next to us. I jump off the bike first, stopping to stretch and rubbing my hands over my slightly numb legs.

  Once Rooster’s taken my helmet, he slips my backpack off my shoulders and slings it over his.

  Swoony-swoon-swoon. My mama always told me it’s the little gestures that count the most. And tonight, Rooster’s made so many little gestures, they’ve added up to big, big feelings.

  The irregular thump of music, distant chatter, and light all pour out of the clubhouse windows and front door into the gravel lot where we’re standing.

  “Welcome to upstate.” Heidi spreads her arms wide and tips her head back, breathing deeply while staring up at the inky night sky.

  I glance between Murphy and Rooster, remembering the bottom rockers on the back of their leather cuts. “Upstate. This is your home club, Murphy, right?”

  “Yup.” He slaps Rooster on the back. “We let him visit once in a while.”

  I tilt my head back, staring at the stars. “It’s so pretty up here.”

  Heidi points to the woods beyond the parking lot. Through the trees, there’s a clear path lined with tiny dots of bright, white light. “Our house is out that way. I can show you tomorrow.”

  “I’d like that.”

  Rooster clasps Murphy’s shoulder. “You at least coming in for a minute or do you need to run home?”

  “Yeah, I want to say hi to whoever’s here.”

  The four of us clomp over the gravel to the front steps. Murphy opens the screen door and waves us inside.

  The scents of weed and sweat hang heavy in the air. The cloud of smoke hits me so hard at first, I hold my breath rather than risk inhaling. This amount of smoke is liable to do a number on my throat.

  Bikers and girls are everywhere. Rooster tugs on my hand, drawing me deeper into the room. No wonder he says he doesn’t go out to bars and stuff often. Who needs to go barhopping when he has unfettered access to his own decadent nightclub whenever he wants? The women gracing every square foot are beautiful, and for the most part, barely dressed. I glance down at my sweatshirt, jeans, and boots, then over at Heidi. Except for her tight-fitting leather jacket, Heidi’s dressed similarly to me, helping me feel less out of place.

  Tucked in the corner, two long couches form an L-shape and that’s where Murphy heads.

  “Look who showed up!” Murphy leans over and slaps the outstretched hand of the dark-haired man I remember from Texas. Z—the president of Rooster’s charter.

  Z jumps up and the two men bear-hug each other while trading some good-natured insults.

  Rooster butts in and slaps his president’s hand, pulling him in close. “Didn’t expect to see you until tomorrow, Prez.”

  “Thought it would be weird to let myself into Murphy’s house while he was out.”

  “As if that would stop you,” another man I remember meeting in Texas says in a wry tone. Upstate’s president.

  “Hey, Rock.” Rooster leans over and shakes his hand.

  “Good to see you, Rooster.” He nods at me. “Shelby.”

  Surprised he remembered my name, I nod a quiet hello.

  “Wrath come back with you?” Z asks.

  “He should be here shortly,” Rooster answers in a wary tone.

  Z seems to sense Rooster’s mood. “Go on. No club business tonight.” He nods at me. “Hey, Shelby.”

  “Hi.”

  Rooster picks up my hand and leads me over to the bar. A girl with short brown curly hair and a tight pink halter top smiles at both of us.

  “You want a drink?” Rooster asks me.

  “A coke.”

  The girl behind the bar slides a can of Coca-Cola my way. Right. Coke in the northeast is cola. “Thank you,” I chirp.

  I sip it slowly, savoring the cool bubbles against my tired throat while I take in the room around us. Two girls work their way through the crowd picking up the sea of party debris, keeping things neat and orderly despite the amount of people.

  Two younger guys without leather cuts swagger our way. They stop in front of us and Rooster knocks knuckles with both of them.

  “Where you been?” the one with darker hair asks.

  “Aw, you been waitin’ on me, Remy?” Rooster reaches out and slaps the guy’s cheek a few times. “Country Fest, ya nosy little prick.”

  Maybe he’s not as bulky as Rooster, but Remy’s certainly not what I’d call “little.” Seems more like Rooster’s way of putting this non-patch holder in his place for questioning him.

  Remy doesn’t seem bothered by the treatment. “Feelin’ unloved by my mentors, that’s all.” He jerks his chin in Murphy’s direction.

  “You talk to Z?”

  “Yes, sir.” Remy smirks. “Spoke to Rock too.”

  “Good boy.” Rooster sneers.

  While Remy and Rooster verbally spar with each other, the guy at Remy’s side runs his gaze over me. Recognition flickers in his dark eyes but he doesn’t say anything.

  Rooster slips his arm around my shoulders. “Remy, Griff, this is Shelby.”

  The corners of Griff’s mouth curl up, like he’s happy his guess about my i
dentity was confirmed. “Nice to meet you, Shelby.”

  Remy just nods at me.

  They talk in low tones for a few more minutes while I study the party and sip my drink.

  “I’ll catch you two later.” Rooster takes my hand and leads me toward the staircase. He moves through the crowd easily—stops to shake a few hands or say hello but otherwise keeps moving.

  Excitement bubbles up inside me. All night long I’ve wanted to be alone with Rooster. Truly alone. Who am I kidding? All night is a big fat lie. I’ve wanted to be with him since we parted ways in Texas months ago.

  The fact that we’ve kept in touch, that he wanted to see me tonight, made the effort when he clearly doesn’t need to go far to be surrounded by beautiful women makes my foolish heart pitter-patter way harder than it should.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Rooster

  Some of the noise from the party retreats as we climb the steps to the second floor of the clubhouse. The heels of Shelby’s boots make a click-thump over the shiny hardwood floor as I lead her to the end of the hallway.

  The night’s young. Even the “free” rooms are mostly unoccupied. We pass a few couples who haven’t quite made it to a bedroom. At least nothing has seemed to shock Shelby yet. While she saw plenty of this when we spent time together in Texas, the place I was staying down there belonged to a different MC. The atmosphere is a notch tamer tonight, but it’s still wild if you’re a sweet southern lass who’s not used to club life.

  “This place is something else.” Shelby stares at each door we pass.

  “Upstate’s done well.” Too bad she won’t be as impressed with downstate’s clubhouse, if I have a chance to take her there. Our last president, Sway, spent too much time and money fucking around instead of investing into the club he claimed to care about so much. While a lot of that’s changed under Z’s leadership and I’m committed to helping him build something like this for our charter, our clubhouse is nowhere near the setup Rock’s crew have built for themselves.

  I stop at the last door on the left side before the president’s suite at the end of the hallway. This used to be Z’s room. I guess technically it should be Murphy’s now, but he has his own house, so tonight, it’s mine—or ours.

  Trinity assured me someone had cleaned it up since Z was here last. I open the door and flip on the light and take a sniff. The room’s free of condom wrappers and strange smells, so that’s promising.

  Shelby yawns and stretches once she’s inside.

  “Are you tired?” I had a lot of plans in mind for us tonight. Sleeping was way, way down on the list.

  “A little,” she admits. A playful smile curves her lips and she presses her palm against my chest, lightly pushing. Her soft touch couldn’t move a sprig of grass, but I rest my back against the door anyway.

  I stare at her fingers as she trails them down the front of my T-shirt. “But I’m not ready to sleep yet.”

  “No?” I reach out and tug on her slightly windblown ponytail. “What’d you have in mind?”

  “Repaying favors.” She sneaks her hands under my shirt and teases my belt buckle.

  “You don’t owe me anything.” I close my eyes and my head hits the back of the door as she slides her hand over my zipper.

  “What if I want to suck your cock?”

  I crack open one eye. “Be my guest.”

  “Hmmm.” She works my belt. “You plannin’ to help me?”

  Chuckling, I unbuckle and unbutton my jeans but leave the rest up to her.

  She steps back and slips her sweatshirt over her head, folding it neatly and dropping it at my feet. Her T-shirt comes off next. Licking her bottom lip, she sinks to the floor in front of me, staring up with wide eyes.

  “Fuck,” I mumble. “Been thinking about this for a long time.”

  “Me too.” She draws in a deep breath like she needs strength for the next part or maybe she’s just remembered how big I am. But there’s no hesitation as she tugs my zipper down.

  Careful not to yank on any knots, I pull the elastic from her hair, sinking my fingers into her pretty blond curls like I’ve been fantasizing about doing all night.

  I groan as she slides her hands over my hips, working my pants down. My cock springs out harder than motherfucking stone. She wraps her hand around it, pumping up and down a few times before opening her mouth and moving closer. She stares up at me as her hot breath ghosts over my sensitive skin. I’m completely trapped, held hostage by her eyes, anticipating her next move.

  Finally, the warmth of her mouth surrounds me, and I suck in a stuttered breath. “That’s good.”

  She sucks, hard, but takes her sweet time sliding down before drawing away and swirling her tongue around the tip of my cock.

  “Fuck,” I groan. “Do that again.”

  She flattens her tongue against the underside and does it even slower this time—sending a million pleasurable tingles straight to my balls. My fingers twist in her hair, pulling it up, pushing her head down while pumping my hips forward.

  “Mmm,” she encourages me, bobbing her head while working the rest of my cock with her tight little fist. She sneaks her other hand between my legs to cup my balls, gently squeezing and massaging.

  “Fuck.” I can’t stop watching her—she’s so intent on pleasing me. She flicks her gaze up again. With her red-stained lips stretched around my cock, she smiles, and I almost lose it. “Holy fuck, Shelby.”

  This isn’t quite how I pictured our night once I got her alone but I’m sure as fuck not grumpy about it. I also can’t last much longer.

  “Shelby,” I gasp.

  “Mm-hmm.” She rests her hands against my thighs. She opens her mouth wider, giving me permission to drive inside at my pace. Not quite wide enough to take all of me, though.

  “Open,” I demand. “Wider.”

  As soon as she does, I grip her hair harder, thrusting inside her hot, wet little mouth.

  Still staring up at me, she hums a desperate noise. Her hands cup her tits, lifting them up in her pretty white, lacy bra.

  “You want me to come on your tits?” I rasp.

  She nods quickly and makes another excited noise.

  Works for me. I’m already picturing painting her in my cum. It’s enough to trigger my climax.

  Brushing her hands away, I wrap my hand around my dick, pumping faster. I barely pull back in time. Her chest heaves from all her heavy breathing and that’s where I aim, shooting cum all over the plump swell of her breasts and the lacy white cups of her bra.

  “Oh, fuck,” I groan. White lights burst behind my eyelids.

  When I can finally see straight, I almost come again at the sight of her. Just as I’d pictured earlier. Red lipstick smeared all over her lips and chin, mascara streaks around her eyes, and thoroughly mussed hair.

  “Come here.” I reach down and help her up, quickly kissing her forehead. “Thank you.”

  * * *

  Shelby

  My heart’s still racing as Rooster helps me stand. Satisfaction rushes through me. That was even better than I’d imagined. Leaving a rough, hard man like Rooster shaking with pleasure is a huge turn-on.

  “Your turn.” He stares down at me with dark, glittering eyes and curls his hands over my shoulders.

  I swipe at the corner of my mouth. “I’m a bit of a mess. Can I clean up first?”

  “I like you messy.”

  I blink up at him and the feral glint in his eyes shifts to concern. “Yeah. Come here.” He takes my hand, turning us toward the bathroom. “I’m not sure what’s stocked in here, but I can grab whatever you need from downstairs.”

  I snag my backpack on the way to the bathroom.

  He glances at me. “You need your other stuff?”

  “Kind of.”

  He leans in and kisses my forehead again. “I’ll go see where the van is.”

  “Thanks.”

  He closes the door behind him, and I strip off the rest of my clothes, dropping my bra in t
he sink. I probably should’ve taken it off before asking Rooster to come all over my tits. I’m traveling with a limited amount of lingerie and don’t exactly have time to pop into Wal-Mart for new stuff.

  I glance around the small, but neat and clean bathroom, and locate a few towels that smell fresh. I dig my travel cosmetic bag from my backpack. The large bottle of face wash Cindy insists I use to clean off the heavy stage makeup is in a different compartment, and I pull that out as well. Carefully, I peel the false eyelashes off and toss them.

  Stripping out of the rest of my clothes, I twist the taps on in the shower and wait for it to warm up before closing myself inside. My hair’s a mess of snarls. After thoroughly wetting it, I carefully shampoo all the sticky hairspray out, then slowly work conditioner through, using extra on the ends.

  “Hey, I wanted to do that.” The door opens and Rooster steps into the shower behind me.

  I turn to face him, and he cups my cheeks, staring down at me with such intensity, my gaze flits away. Stripped of makeup and clothes, a sense of naked vulnerability washes over me.

  He grazes my chin with his knuckles and tips my head back. “Much better.”

  “What?”

  “Now I can see your pretty face.”

  My lips twitch into a half-smile. “You really hate the makeup, huh?”

  “No, I just like the girl underneath more.” He brushes wet strands of hair off my cheek. “You wrecked me out there, you know?”

  “I’ve been waiting all night to give you one hundred percent of my attention.”

  Instead of answering, he leans down and presses his lips to mine, gentle at first. With a sweet reverence, he deepens the kiss, sinking his fingers into my hair and angling my head. Our bodies mold together under the streaming water, slick and hot. His hands move from my face, sliding up and down my back, pulling me against him. He’s all hard, solid muscle and warm, wet skin.

  “Shelby,” he groans against my neck, kissing his way to my shoulder. “Are you done? I want my mouth on every part of you.”

  Delighted shivers race over my skin, tightening my nipples to hard points that Rooster dips down to kiss.

 

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