Rhythm of the Road

by Autumn Jones Lake

  “Got it.” She thrusts her hand between her legs.

  “No. No.” I pry the slim, smooth wand from her fingers. “My job.”

  She laughs softly as I study the toy for a second. It’s small. Maybe the length of my pinky. “This really gets you off?”

  She stops moving and squints at me. “My clit’s sensitive, thank you very much.”

  “I’m aware.” I finally locate the on button and click it. Strong vibrations ripple through my arm.

  With my free hand, I tap her ass. “Did I say you could stop?”

  She falls forward, wrapping her arms around my neck and laughing against my shoulder.

  Pressed tight to my front, she starts that slow, maddening roll of her hips again.

  “That’s it,” I whisper, kissing and sucking at the sensitive skin below her ear. “Lean back for me.”

  She cups my cheeks, brushing the softest kiss against my lips.

  Gone. I’m so fucking gone over this woman.

  “Like this?” she teases, resting her hands on my knees and thrusting her hips forward.

  “Fuck yeah.” I lick my thumb again and rub her clit a few times before adding the little vibrating bullet.

  “Oh!” Her hips jerk. “Too much.”

  I slide it an inch higher, to the side, then the other side, avoiding direct contact until I locate a spot that makes her thighs quiver.

  Her pussy fists around my cock so damn tight. “Fuck,” I groan.

  “Right there. Don’t move,” she pleads. Desperately, she reaches for me, hooking one hand over my shoulder, frantically bouncing up and down. “Oh my God.”

  “Good girl. Come for me.” I roll the vibrator right over her clit and she spasms around me, digging her nails into my back.

  “Yes.”

  For several heartbeats I’m suspended in time, solely focused on the pleasure of her coming apart.

  Finally, she slumps against me, panting, shaking, and sweaty. “Thank you,” she mumbles, kissing my neck and cheek.

  Time for holding back’s over. I curl my hands over her shoulders, pinning her down, and let loose. My hips snap up into the sweet, tight clutch of her perfect little body over and over. All rational thought has been ripped out of my brain. My body bows up off the seat as I explode.

  Mind-blowing.

  Thump.

  I peel my eyes open. Shelby has her hands braced against the roof of the truck and her neck at an awkward angle.

  “Sorry,” I groan, still coming so hard, white spots dot my vision. I ease my ass back down to the seat so I’m not ramming her head in the roof. She laughs softly and rubs the top of her head.

  “Oh, fuck. Come here.” I wrap my arms around her, burying my face against her shoulder.

  Frantic hearts beating, panting, and sweaty, we stay pressed together.

  I’m not ready to let go.

  Chapter Fifty

  Shelby

  I don’t want to leave Rooster’s embrace.

  Although we are a little sticky.

  He presses kisses to my cheek and forehead. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Slowly, I extract myself from him, throwing myself onto the passenger seat. With love-drunk puppy eyes, I watch him search the truck for napkins to clean himself with, finally tossing everything into a paper bag and throwing it behind his seat.

  “So, uh, whose truck did we defile?” I ask, reaching over to touch his shoulder.

  He leans into the seat, arching his back and lifting his hips to buckle his belt. It’s a damn sexy move.

  “Ice’s. He’s the president of this charter.”

  “Oops.” I cover my mouth with my hand and giggle.

  “Mmm.” He swoops in and kisses me. “That’s better. You didn’t look happy when I got here.”

  “I’ve never been happier to see anyone in my life.”

  Buzzing hums through the air, drawing our attention to a crack in the seat. Rooster digs my little bullet vibrator out, clicks it off, and hands it to me.

  Heat stings my cheeks. “Thanks.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Sorry, I…uh.”

  He stops and stares. “Sorry about what?”

  “Nothing.” I hurry to return the vibrator to its hiding spot in my purse.

  “Shelby? What’s the matter?” His hand lands on my arm, gently tugging until I turn toward him.

  “Nothing’s wrong. I just don’t want you mad at me.”

  He shifts closer, brushing his knuckles over my cheek. “How could I ever be mad at you?”

  “I don’t want you to be insulted.”

  “About what?”

  I swear every time I open my mouth, I’m just jamming my boot farther down my throat. His beard twitches with confusion as he studies my face.

  “You know.” I gesture toward my purse.

  He swivels his head, staring out the window for a second. “Aren’t you the same girl who told me to whip out my cock in your dressing last time I saw you? And then, I’m pretty sure a few minutes ago you said we could skip foreplay because you needed me inside you so bad.” He brushes his fingers over my knee. “Why so shy all of a sudden?”

  Thank God it’s dark. My face is about to burst into flames. “That I needed—you know…”

  “I asked you for the toy, Shelby. You worried you insulted my manhood or something?”

  “Well, none of my other—”

  “Don’t.” He squeezes his eyes shut. “I fuckin’ love getting you off. Any and every single way I can. Like, I want to spend weeks holed up with you somewhere private so we can experiment. Learn every single way to make your legs shake, toes curl, and your eyes roll back in your head.”

  What do you say to something like that? “Wow.”

  “You have no idea.” He snorts out a laugh. “Anyway, didn’t Heidi tell you about her side hustle? I can’t wait to get home and order a whole bunch of gadgets from her catalog.”

  “No, she didn’t. What side hustle?”

  “She’s been supplying the whole clubhouse with sex toys for months.”

  “Really? But…she’s a mom.”

  He side-eyes me. “I’m pretty sure moms have sex too. Actually—”

  “All right. I get it. Stop makin’ fun of me.”

  He twists the key in the ignition and sneaks a glance my way. “Anything else?”

  I bite my lip so hard I wince. “Thanks for understanding, about...”

  “You wantin’ me to wrap my dick?” Blunt as usual. “I’m not exactly eager to have little baby roosters clucking around either.”

  How can he make me laugh when I’m so tangled up inside?

  He reaches over and strokes my cheek. “As long as I get to love you up, I’m happy.”

  My heart melts, and I lean into his touch. “You’d be the first who doesn’t bitch about a condom,” I mutter. “Shoot, my last boyfriend kept trying to slip ’em off during. As if I wouldn’t notice.”

  Silence.

  Why did I say that out loud?

  Rooster’s brimming with anger—fists tight, voice down to a low rumble. “I knew I didn’t kick that motherfucker’s ass enough.”

  “Forgot you’d met him,” I mutter.

  “Shelby, look at me, please.”

  He waits until I meet his eyes. “I know I can be a crude motherfucker, but I’m not the guy who ever wants to make you uncomfortable. Or do something you’re not a hundred percent into, okay?”

  “I know that.”

  “Good.” One corner of his mouth quirks. “And don’t ever compare me to any of your piece-of-shit exes again.”

  I open my mouth to protest, then stop myself. Even if I didn’t mean to, that’s kinda what I did. Twice now. Lordy, how does he put up with me?

  He tucks my hair behind my ear. “Let’s get going. You must be exhausted. And we need to be up early for your interview.”

  Again, here he is, runnin’ all over for me. Picking me up late and gettin’ up at the butt crack of dawn to take
me to the radio station. “Ugh. I’m so sorry about that.” I twist in my seat, grabbing the seatbelt and clicking it into place. “I’m so mad at Greg for scheduling that without telling me.”

  He slips the truck into gear. “These guys are dicks, from what I know of ’em. Jigsaw’s going with us. Just in case.”

  He doesn’t leave it open for debate. And I’m okay with that.

  “Do you listen to them? Greg said their show is syndicated across the country.”

  “Ah, yeah. I’ve caught them once or twice. Not really my thing, though.” He grips the steering wheel harder. “Uh, don’t freak out but I need to warn you about something.”

  “Uh, okay.”

  “I can’t get into a lot of details, but this club’s a little different from mine.”

  “You say that every time you take me to a new clubhouse.”

  “Shit, I guess I do.” He laughs, a loud ha that punches the air between us. “Nothing bad. But they’re a little overzealous with their security. Found a camera in my room. I disconnected it, but I’m guessing they’re all over the house.”

  I’m not sure what to say to that.

  “Are you thinking of asking me to take you back to the van?”

  “Heck no.” I quiet down for a second “That’s kind of a club business-y thing to share with me, isn’t it?”

  “I guess so.”

  “Are there toilet cams?”

  “Fuck, I hope Ice isn’t that twisted. I’ll check when we get there.”

  “Found one of those in a dressing room one time.” I shudder. “So gross.”

  “Are you fuckin’ serious?” Fury seeps into his tone.

  I shrug, even though he’s watchin’ the road, not me. “Sometimes I feel like someone’s spying on me twenty-four hours a day. At least this time, I won’t be wondering if I’m crazy.”

  Rooster

  How the fuck do I digest the fact that someone’s stuck a toilet camera in my girlfriend’s dressing room? Never mind the other shit she confessed tonight. More than ever, I want to tuck her in my pocket and keep her safe from everyone. The world doesn’t deserve her sweetness.

  “Wow. Bikers sure are fond of middle-of-nowhere places, huh?” she asks as the truck climbs the mountainside.

  “Not all of ’em. But yeah, we like our privacy.”

  “Can’t imagine why,” she says, using her light, teasing tone.

  Fuck, there goes that warmth sliding through my chest again.

  After a few seconds of silence, I glance over. Her head’s against the seat and awkwardly rolled to the side. Breathing’s soft and even. Shit, she must be exhausted. Instead of fucking her in the parking lot like an animal, and then dragging her out into the woods, I should’ve taken her to a damn hotel so she could get some sleep.

  Finally, the clubhouse comes into view and I flip on the blinker. From the glow of the bonfires and number of shadows filling the parking lot, it looks like they took the party outside tonight.

  Brothers wave and slap the hood as I pass. The noise doesn’t stir Shelby. I park around the side of the building to keep Ice’s truck out of the way of these rowdy motherfuckers.

  Shelby’s still sound asleep. Hate like hell to wake her.

  I text Jigsaw, letting him know I’m here, then haul my ass out of the truck. Slowly, I ease Shelby’s door open, not wanting to startle her. “Hey, chickadee.” I keep my voice low and in a soothing range. “We’re here.”

  “Hmm?” she mumbles, drools on herself a little. Just makes her even cuter.

  Reaching over her, I unclick her seatbelt and kiss her cheek. “We’re here.”

  She blinks, her gaze bouncing around the truck. “Did I fall asleep?”

  “You did.” An amused smile curves my lips. “Want me to carry you inside?”

  Still bleary-eyed and a little dazed, she shakes her head. “I have all my crap to carry in.”

  “I got it.” I offer her my hand. “Come on.”

  She jumps out of the truck, a soft huff passing her lips. I grab her bags and guitar case, not comfortable leaving it in someone else’s truck overnight with all these people.

  “I’ll show you around tomorrow. Let’s get you to bed.”

  “All right.” She follows me in the front door.

  “Cock-a-doodle-fucking-do!” Jigsaw shouts from the bar. “Where ya been?”

  I tilt my head at Shelby. “You knew I was going to pick her up.”

  “Oh, yeah.” He slides off his stool. “Hey.”

  “Hey, Jiggy.” She reaches up and hugs the asshole.

  He hangs on to her long enough to annoy me, then adds an eyebrow wiggle to really piss me off. “Welcome to Port Everheart, chickadee.”

  “Why are you calling my girlfriend that?” I infuse enough menace into my tone to make my irritation clear.

  Jigsaw pulls away. If he had feelings, I’d worry I’d hurt them. “I didn’t know if you wanted me to use her name.” He lowers his voice and casts a look around. The music’s not the usual drown-out-conversation level. Plenty of couples are inside. A few brothers are scattered around the bar sharing drinks and stories. “Thought you might be worried someone would recognize her.”

  Shit. Yeah, I probably should be concerned about that. “Thanks, brother.” I really need to calm my territorial urges when it comes to Shelby. “We’re headed to bed. You’re still coming with us tomorrow, right?”

  “Fuck yeah.” He gives me a hug and slaps my cheeks a few times. My hands are full so I tolerate the abuse. Barely.

  Shelby

  My confused brain tries to make sense of my surroundings. I vaguely remember arriving at a clubhouse.

  What the heck am I wearing?

  Rooster must have undressed me. I run my fingers over the soft blue T-shirt. Smells like detergent and Rooster.

  “I didn’t want to rummage through your bags last night.”

  I turn and find him awake, staring at me with a soft a smile. “Have you been watching me sleep again?”

  “Feels good waking up next to you. I like to enjoy it.”

  “Same,” I whisper.

  An alarm chirps and Rooster rolls over, scooping up his phone. “Time to get ready.”

  “Ugh, I don’t wanna.” I grab one of the pillows and shove it against my face.

  “I’d rather have you get more sleep. But you can’t miss stuff because you’re with me, either.”

  “I’m not dressing up,” I protest, even though I doubt Rooster really cares about my wardrobe issues. “And the only makeup I have with me is a couple tubes of lipgloss.”

  “It’s radio.” He throws the covers back and I yelp.

  “Yeah, but they’ll want to take photos and post ’em online and probably make fun of me. Say I look nothing like my pictures and I’m a hag in real life.”

  He stares down at me. “If anyone says that about you, they’ll be eating through a straw for the next six to eight weeks.”

  “Careful, Logan. You’ll be taking me to all of my appearances if you keep up the sexy talk.”

  He hesitates, the menace sliding off his face. “You know I’ll take you anywhere you need to go.”

  “Yeah, I do.”

  I end up squeezing myself into a pair of skinny jeans, a teal tank top with a flamazing flamingo on the front, and my electric teal cowgirl boots.

  Downstairs, people are scattered everywhere. I vaguely remember a party last night, running into Jigsaw…and not much after that.

  “Do you want breakfast?” Rooster asks, checking his phone.

  “After the interview.”

  He searches the bar area. “Where the fuck is Jiggy?”

  We continue outside, Rooster furiously tapping on his phone.

  I head for his bike.

  “Hey, Rooster!” a high, feminine voice calls out.

  I spin around so fast, my hair sticks to my gloss-slicked lips. I sputter, spitting out hair and trailing sticky gloss down my chin.

  A tall, slim blonde jogs over t
o us. I should ask her what kind of bra she’s wearing. Her giant boobs barely even bounce as she navigates over the uneven ground.

  “I’m so glad I caught you,” she says in a breathless rush. “I really appreciate all your help this week.” She hands him a tiny green envelope. “I wanted to give you this to say thanks.” She’s so completely focused on my boyfriend, she doesn’t even seem to notice me standing there. Holding his hand.

  “Thanks, hon.” He slides the envelope in his cut pocket without opening it and squeezes my hand. “Anya, this is my girlfriend, Shelby.”

  Finally, her dizzy eyes swing my way. She smiles even wider. Damn, she’s pretty. Has at least three inches on me too, with those freakin’ flamingo legs of hers.

  “Oh, hey!” She yanks me into her arms, crushing me against her chest and huggin’ the stuffing outta me.

  “Uh, hey,” I mumble around a mouthful of her blouse.

  “Sorry.” She releases me so fast, I almost fall on my ass. Rooster steadies me with an arm around my shoulders. She glances at his bike and giggles. “You should’ve seen Rooster. I thought he was taking me to my interview on his bike. And he almost bit my head off. ‘Back of my bike is for my girlfriend,’” she says in a deep, angry voice meant to imitate Rooster.

  My lips twitch. Did he really say that to her?

  An image of her pressing her giant tits up against his back and hanging onto him dances in my brain and my blood boils. Nope. Nope. Nope. I shake my head, willing the mental snapshot away.

  Damn right that’s my spot.

  I force a smile. “Sounds like something my man would say.”

  “Morning, Anya,” Jigsaw calls out. “Hey, guys. Ready to go?”

  “Thanks again, Rooster.” Anya waves at us. “Good meeting you, Shelby. Hopefully, we can chat more later.”

  Unlikely.

  She disappears inside the clubhouse.

  Jigsaw’s gaze bounces between Rooster and me. “Yeah, you two look tense. I’m gonna go…” He executes a sharp left and hightails it into the clubhouse.

  “That’s what you’ve been doing here all week?” I ask in a low, tight voice once we’re alone. “Hanging out with Chesapeake Bay Barbie?”