“Nah, got jumped by a little pixie at work,” I told her honestly.
“What the hell?” She muttered as she pulled up short just in front of me and craned her head back to see the damage better. “Come on,” she stated without asking any questions. She grabbed ahold of my hand and tugged, causing pain to shoot up my sore wrist, but I ignored it and followed behind her, watching her ass cheeks bounce up and down with her movements as we went. “Stop staring at my ass, you perv!” She called out to me, and I realized she could see clearly where my eyes were directed as we passed by a set of windows where our reflections were on display.
“Well, if you don’t want me staring, you shouldn’t be flaunting it all over the place.”
“I wasn’t flaunting. I was trying to preserve the paint-free pants that I have.” She moved us into the kitchen area and ordered me around. “Sit!” Christina dropped my hand, moved to the freezer, and pulled out some ice. I watched her drop the cubes into a cloth and then she made her way back to me. “Here, put this on your eye.” As soon as I did, she made a tisking noise and glared at my wrist before going to get a Ziplock bag to fill with ice too. “Seriously, what happened to you?”
“I had hand-to-hand combat training today and my instructor was merciless.”
“This would be the tiny pixie fighter you spoke of?” She asked on a laugh as she came to hold the new ice pack to my sore wrist.
“That would be her.”
“You’re serious? A girl did this to you?”
“Yeah, and after she beat me up, she had the nerve to ask if you could come over to their clubhouse for a play date,” I told her with a mock pout. The combination had her dissolve into a fit of laughter.
“I honestly can’t tell if you’re being serious or not right now. That’s too much!”
“I’m being for real. JoJo, the woman who owns this house, she kicked my ass today and then smiled at me as she asked if you were ever going to stop by the clubhouse to hang out with the women there. I have to be honest, I’m not so sure that’s a great idea now that I see what they’re capable of.” I was teasing about the last, and she knew it.
“Don’t worry, I promise not to throw you into an arm bar when you piss me off.”
My jaw dropped. “Holy fuck, I’m already doomed.”
“What? I promised not to do it.”
“How do you even know what an arm bar hold is?”
“I’m a girl, I’m not oblivious. Besides, Steven used to always make me watch those pro-wrestling fights with him.”
“As in World Wrestling Entertainment?” I asked for clarification, ignoring the mention of her dead husband – the dickweasel.
“Yeah, sometimes they were over the top, slamming chairs on each other and stuff, but some of it looked more realistic. The arm bar was always my favorite. I wanted to try it out so bad.”
That made me laugh. “Jesus, you’re going to fit right in with those S.H.E. chicks.”
She clapped her hands together repeatedly and emitted a giddy squeal of delight at my proclamation. While it was a scary prospect, I would have driven her there myself, in that moment, had she asked me to. Seeing her happy was a heady thing. “Tina,” I growled low in my throat, because seeing her happy wasn’t the only reaction I was dealing with. The up and down bouncing she was doing, in combination with her bringing her hands together in a clapping motion, was causing her braless tits to jiggle in that thin as fuck tank top. I could make out the darker coloring of her areolas through the light pink material too, and it was doing nothing but making my dick hard.
Her eyes followed mine down to her chest and she blushed. “Sorry, I’ll just go put something else on,” she murmured, but before she could scurry off, I reached over with my good hand and clamped it around her waist.
“Stay,” I told her. I wasn’t watching her tits any longer though. I was looking into her eyes. “You don’t have to change for me, sweetheart. I’m a big boy and I can control myself.”
Her voice came out raspy, letting me know that I wasn’t the only one affected by the supercharged air around us now. “Maybe, I’m more worried about me,” she admitted. Then she leaned in and placed a quick kiss on my lips before she managed to free herself from my hold and run off to the stairs. I watched her ass wiggling the whole way until she was finally out of sight. It took everything in me not to get the fuck up off the stool I was perched on and follow her to the bedroom where I knew she was putting more clothes on. If only Dane could see me now. I was the king of self-discipline in my own domain. I had made a promise to Tina though. We would be roommates first, then friends as we got to know one another better, and then we would step our relationship up to something more. It had been her only caveat to packing her shit and moving to the mountains of Georgia with me. Despite our connection, we were essentially still strangers to one another. Not that we hadn’t been getting to know each other along the way, but neither of us willing to speed things up and possibly fuck up a good thing.
So, I talked my dick down as I waited for her to come back downstairs fully clothed. For the first time in my life I wasn’t concerned about getting a piece of ass over everything else. Instead, I was content and felt at peace watching as this remarkable woman – who put so much faith and trust in me – brought her own image of the world’s beauty to life on canvas. I was happier than hell to have her snuggled up next to me as we watched something on the television together. The mundane things in life, as long as they involved her, were becoming some of my favorite memories. Not for the first time, I wished I could introduce her to Toby. He would have tormented me relentlessly about finally having a woman collar and leash me, but he would have loved her. Even if he was still mad at me. He would have loved her for me because that’s the man he was. That was the man I now strived to be.
Chapter 27
Temptation
Christina
I promised myself I wouldn’t jump in completely. I did that before with Steven and look what that got me. A world of heartache, regret, and being unable to grieve the death of a girl I thought was my best friend, because now, I hated her too. My feelings were a conflicted jumble since I couldn’t decide if it was okay to hate the dead for what they did when they were alive or not.
Then there was Jay. I fully blamed my whirlwind of crazy emotions for saying yes to moving with him. He did, at least, agree to my ground rules. We would wait until we got to know one another better before starting anything physical or romantic. The problem was he came home from work looking like a wounded puppy. I wanted to fawn all over him. Then I didn’t miss the heated glances he sent my way or the problem he had in his pants after watching me stupidly jiggle my tits in his face. Let’s face it, the problem is his pants was something I very much wanted to help him with. But I couldn’t. I promised myself. I was pretty sure I was stupid for doing so, at least that’s what my lonely vagina was telling me. My head was screaming at me to step away from the very impressive bulge in his pants though. Self-preservation was a must! Yep, it was official, I was losing my mind and it was all self-induced.
I managed to make it through our first week in Sierra High, Georgia happier than I had been in a long time, at peace, and more than a little sexually frustrated. I needed a new kind of release to take my mind off of what I really wanted and wasn’t getting any time soon. That was where the S.H.E. MC came into play. Get your minds out of the gutter, there were no sapphic stories of lusty motorcycle rides with bitches to be had. They just opened me up to a whole new world I’d never considered before. I had only been on the back of a motorcycle one time in my life, but I remembered how exhilarating it had been. According to the girls, the only thing better than being wrapped around your man as he rode you into the wind was when you were the one in control.
I had been sitting on the porch, drinking coffee, and enjoying the unseasonably warm weather when I heard the rumble of a motorcycle approaching. I watched as the tiny rider pulled her bike up and parked it. Judging from her size a
nd confidence level I thought I knew who the woman was.
“Are you the woman who kicked Jay’s ass?”
She laughed, a tinkling sound that I would have described as magical had it not been so cliché. It was infectious, nevertheless. “That would be me,” she called out as she moved closer to come join me on the porch swing. “I love this swing,” she offered as she sat down beside me. “Sometimes, I miss being out here.”
“I can see why,” I told her before taking another sip and realizing how rude I was being. “Sorry, would you like a cup of coffee, hot chocolate, or some tea?”
Her answering smile was genuine. “No, thank you. No need to be polite either, I’m the one invading your private time. I just came to see how you were settling in and to find out if there was a reason you hadn’t gotten a hold of Keys yet about coming out to hang with us?”
“Honestly?” I asked her.
“Always,” was her quick response.
“I don’t have the best track record with friends in my life. They have all betrayed me, hurt me, or stood back knowing others were doing so. I’m a bit apprehensive, even though I crave the interaction.”
“I get it. We were all there, at that same point in our lives, when the club was formed. We each had our own baggage that made us distrust people. I think that’s why it was so appealing when Jamie suggested we start up this crew of only women who could rely on one another. I’m a mechanic by trade, and nothing scares away women friends more than a girl who knows more than most of their men about their car troubles.” She chuckled, but her words were laced with an old hurt.
“That’s just dumb. They should have been thankful. Do you know how long I had to wait for my husband to finally get around to changing the oil in the car?”
I’d shocked her, with the husband comment. “I didn’t know you two were married already,” her brow furrowed as she became lost in thought.
“Jay and I are not married. My husband is dead. I struggle with what to call him around new people. He was my husband, he’s dead, and it’s not like we divorced before that happened so it’s not okay to say ex-husband either. Though, to be honest, that’s what he should have been.”
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.
“It’s okay. My past is a part of who I am today.”
“That’s the damn truth!” JoJo agreed with me and then sat quietly for a moment before letting me know why she was visiting. “Do you have anything going on today? If you’re up for it, we could go to the clubhouse so I can introduce you to some of the women. You don’t have to ride or be a member. It can’t be easy moving to a new place, so we just want to make sure you have people here you can rely on if Jay gets sent out on a security detail.”
“Thank you, I appreciate that. Let me go get dressed and we can head out.”
To say I was overwhelmed when we arrived at the S.H.E. clubhouse was an understatement. There was a whole next level amount of security just to get into the compound that housed the clubhouse. I noticed the building with the Redemption, Inc. Logo on it immediately and wished I could go say hi to Jay. I knew I couldn’t though because he was working and learning what his job would entail. Every night he had come home completely exhausted and worn out, but also thrilled with everything he had been shown that day. He was like a kid with a new toy, but one that you knew would be a favorite for a very long time. He had found his element, and I loved that for him.
Over the next couple of weeks, I ended up spending a lot of time with the girls of S.H.E. They were a delightful bunch who never failed to have me laughing until my sides hurt. But the best part about going and becoming a part of their world was that JoJo had taken an old junked bike, and fixed it up enough so that it ran, even if it was butt ugly. She did this so that I could crash that sucker and not be worried about the damage I was doing to someone else’s bike as I learned. And crash that fucker, I did. Repeatedly. Who knew learning to ride a motorcycle would be so hard?
“Okay, I want you to take a deep breath in, then as you breathe it out, relax. Let the tension out of your shoulders. Let go of the grips for a minute and just shake everything loose.”
I laughed. “I didn’t know we were doing motorcycle Thai Chi or something,” I joked.
JoJo smiled, but then shrugged her shoulders before she explained her logic. “New riders almost always tense up before they attempt to ride. That tension tends to lead to whiskey throttle. We want to avoid you doing it.”
“Whiskey throttle?” I asked. “That sounds like something involving alcohol and riding, which I won’t do.”
“It sounds like it because you’re drunk on nerves and adrenaline and make the same mistakes someone loaded down with whiskey might when they ride.” She winked at me as the understanding dawned.
“Okay, so…” I glanced down at the handlebars and dash area in front of me. “Clutch,” I said as I pulled in the clutch lever on the left side handlebar and then released it. I used my left foot to simulate what I would do to pop the bike into each gear. “Down for first gear, up one for neutral again, up two for second gear and one up for each after that,” I repeated the instructions I’d been given for the bike JoJo had leant me to start on. I pointed to the right handlebar. “Throttle,” I mentioned as I touched the grip. “Front brake,” I touched the right-side lever. Then I dropped my foot down the right side, “rear brake,” I told her.
“Perfect. Now, once you have the bike on, what do you do?” I started to talk through it again, but she shook her head. “Nope, it’s time! Let’s see what you’ve got, just take it slow. Don’t panic.”
“You’re not supposed to say don’t panic to someone trying something new. That’s like the kiss of death,” I whined.
“Please, don’t fuck up and crash,” she amended, much to the laughter of the three other women standing around waiting to cheer me on or laugh at me. I noticed Keys was filming with her cell phone too. Damn it. “Your man is getting better at hand to hand, I’d rather him not take his frustration about your broken bones out on me in the ring.”
“It would serve you right,” I laughed. Then I turned the motorcycle on, pulled the clutch in, kicked it into first gear, eased up on the clutch until I was walking the bike forward a bit with the momentum and then I gave it a little bit of throttle. My heart was drumming a beat that was impossible to keep up with as I gained a little too much speed, and gripped the handlebars tighter, which in turn revved the throttle. “Shit!” I yelled.
“Let go!” I heard someone call out from somewhere behind me. Thankfully, I listened, let go, and watched as the bike slipped out from between my thighs and my ass hit the ground hard as a result.
“FUCK!” I yelled, wishing I had padded my tailbone for this attempt. I shook it off and stood, dusting my jeans off as I did. “That was crazy!”
“That was whiskey throttle,” JoJo said as she passed by me to go retrieve the bike. “We really didn’t need a demonstration though,” she teased, and then chuckled as she walked the bike back to where everyone had gathered around to make sure I was okay.
“Good job, letting go when you were told. Most people just panic and keep hanging on,” Keys told me.
“I’m pretty sure that wouldn’t have gone well.”
“Nope, it never does,” she agreed. “Do you want to go ice your ass?” She asked as some of the other women snickered in the background.
“No way, I want to try again.” You couldn’t miss my enthusiastic response.
“Oh shit,” Legs called out. “Another adrenaline junkie. JoJo, we found your new best friend!”
JoJo laughed. “Yeah we did!” She high fived me before handing the bike off and then they all stepped out of the way. “You got this, Christina!”
Surprisingly, I did have this! I managed to keep the throttle leveled out on my second go. I stayed in first gear the whole time, and just got a feel for the balance and how touchy the throttle was actually going to be, as well as how the
breaks handled. The best part was the exhilaration I felt at having accomplished something. Granted, it wasn’t much since I hadn’t left first gear, but I had only fucked up once, and I was counting that shit as a win.
“So, when are we going to pick out your bike?” JoJo teased as we were putting the motorcycle into her garage later that day.
“Maybe sooner than I thought,” I informed her. “The guy who bought one of my paintings when they were featured at the gallery in New York got a hold of me to commission a companion piece.”
“That’s wonderful! Congratulations!” She turned to the other women who were all getting ready to leave. “Back to the clubhouse, ladies. We have some celebrating to do!”
I damn near cried tears of joy. It was the first time anyone had ever celebrated with me about my art, and the fact that I was selling a piece. I hoped like hell things worked out between Jay and me, but even if it didn’t, I would always be grateful for him for bringing me here. For the first time, in a long time, I felt like I had a family again and that was everything.
Chapter 28
Assigned
Jay
We had been in town for nearly two months and the difference in the both of us was astounding. Christina smiled regularly now, and it seemed so natural. She was hanging out with the girls from S.H.E. a lot these days, and while I thought it was ironic that I was considering leaving the MC life behind while she was finding it, I fully supported her. The women there were making her happy, and she deserved to know that there were people in this world – besides myself – who would gladly put her first in their thoughts and actions when she needed it.
We had grown much closer too. It helped that my training was Monday through Friday only, so we always made plans to do something together on the weekends. Our second week in Sierra High ended with a spectacular date night at a local brewery and taco shack. It was run by one of S.H.E.’s girls, the same one who had made the beer that was in our fridge when we first moved in. The night out had nearly been commandeered by the women of S.H.E., but surprisingly enough Christina had sent them on their way after a bit of conversation. She insisted that this was our date night, and that it wasn’t to be interrupted. I could have kissed her senseless for that. She may have wanted to take things slow, but the woman also took them seriously.
The Killing Ride Page 23
