“I don’t expect anything from him. I just want to meet him, that’s all.” I roll back my head and gaze at the stars again. “I needed to get away. Needed to clear my head and just ride. This seemed as good a destination as any.”
He looks at me sharply. “It’s a fuckin’ long ride from Washington.”
I give a little proud smile. “Fifteen hundred miles give or take.”
A glance toward the Vincent and then back at me, and I see a new look of respect in his eyes. “If I let you meet Viper, and he wants nothing to do with you, what are your plans then? Have you thought further than that?”
Not really, is the answer, and I point to my bike. “Then I get back on her and go wherever the wind takes me.”
My response seems to satisfy him. Giving me a nod, he takes out his phone and places a call. “Slick? Can you bring some gas? I’m halfway down the clubhouse road.” He listens to something that makes him snarl. “No, I fuckin’ haven’t. What kind of fuckin’ idiot do you take me for?”
He ends the call, presumably having assured the person on the other end that the gas isn’t for him, then he stands and holds out his hand to help me to my feet. In the light of the headlamp, he frowns at me. “Viper’s my brother. I’ll let you meet him, but his word goes. If he wants nothing to do with you, then you’re out. Understood?” Again, he leaves me in no doubt of my unpredictable welcome here.
I’d left Washington just wanting to be on the road with my bike, wanting to leave the memories of the last few months behind. As I’d ridden aimlessly, the idea of finding out what kind of man had sired me wouldn’t get out of my mind and seeking him out had given me purpose. But I’m twenty-six years old. I’ve survived long enough without him, and if he doesn’t want to know me, then fine. It makes no difference to me. I have no hesitation in agreeing. “If Viper doesn’t want anything to do with me, I’m gone.”
The plain truth of it must be written on my face as again he nods slowly, showing he’s content with my response. Then the sound of a motorbike drawing closer reaches us, a headlight coming into view.
My stomach rolls as I realise I’ll soon reach my journey’s end. Will I immediately be sent back on my way? Despite my brave words, I’m not sure how I’ll handle rejection. Knowing it might only be minutes before I’m meeting the man who’s technically my father causes butterflies to start flapping inside. Will he believe me? What will he think of me? And will he want me to be part of his life?
Chapter Three
Drummer…
Slick’s eyes look like they’re going to pop out of his head when he pulls up, but it’s hard to see whether it’s the rare and valuable bike that’s caught his eye, or the girl standing beside it. As his attention flicks from one to the other, I’m starting to regret calling him when his gaze lingers a little too long on the woman, and my fists tighten at my sides. Luckily for him, he turns his head toward me before he starts drooling.
“Only you, Drum,” he laughs, shaking his head. “Only fuckin’ you. Where'd you pick her up? On your run? In Vegas?”
I’m not going to get into it and waste time explaining how I came across her stranded, so I just wave toward the Vincent. “Just fill her up, Slick.”
It must have been my tone. Without further discussion, Slick pours gas from the gallon can into her tank.
Once done, I indicate he should take position at the rear and turn to her. “You gonna follow me, darlin’?” It wasn’t really a question, and her nod of agreement shows she knows it.
Throwing my leg over my Harley, I push on my electric start, and the engine comes to life with a roar. I watch as she puts her jacket back on and steps astride her bike, expertly taking it off the prop stand—the Vincent was built with stands on both sides making it convenient to park on either side of the road—and kicks down hard on the kick-start to fire her up. It’s a practised move, and on the second attempt, it rewards her with a throaty growl. I can’t help but be impressed, knowing the Vincent’s reputation as being a devil to start, its kickback being known to break bones in its time. That she’s got both the knack and the strength that’s required is impressive. Getting that sixty-year-old engine to turn over wouldn’t be easy.
As I drive ahead, I throw a quick glance over my shoulder, noticing she’s handling the beast with ease, and not for the first time, I wonder why she’s riding such an unusual bike and how she got a hold of it. Not many bitches ride, and even fewer would tackle what even the best of bikers would call a death trap. And she’s ridden here from Washington? Well, fuck me! I might be harbouring doubts about the credibility of her story, but I’m full of admiration for the way she handles that bike.
Roadrunner, the new prospect, is manning the gate, and we’re only held up for a few seconds as he rolls them open. Once we’re inside, I continue past our auto-shop and up through the compound to the clubhouse itself. Slick and I back our Harleys into the row in a choreographed move. To my surprise, she does the same, taking a vacant spot between two bikes and making it look easy, as though she’s been doing it all her life. I exchange a look with Slick, knowing he has to be wondering who the fuck she is, and where she’s come from.
Kicking down her stand, she steps off, taking a hefty chain from her saddlebag.
“No need to lock it up here, darlin’,” I butt in when I realise what she’s going to do. “No one’s gonna steal it here.”
She glances at me and looks uneasy.
“The boys might want to take a look, but I give you my word they won’t touch.”
“Yeah, they’ll be all over that!” Slick’s own eyes are open in amazement as he gets his first proper look at the gleaming machine in the light bleeding out from the clubhouse. “It’s fuckin’ beautiful. Where’d you get it?”
I want her inside, meeting the man she thinks is her father, not discussing her history with the likes of him. “Time for that later, Slick.” If her incredible story is even true!
Suddenly it hits me how remiss I’ve been. I’ve let a stranger into the compound. Fuck! Are my brains in my cock today? My brow creases as I take a step toward her. “Got to pat you down, darlin’. Make sure you’re not carrying or nothing.”
Her eyes flicker with something that could well be fear or just nervousness that a strange man intends to touch her, but she shrugs off her jacket and stands with her arms outstretched, and it only takes me seconds to discover she’s unarmed, not wearing an obvious wire, and has a soft body that I’d like to take the time to explore further. My hands burn as I pull them away, and my cock is at full mast by the time I’ve smoothed my hands between her small, but perfectly ample breasts. And her little shiver and muffled moan as I inadvertently tease over her nipples? Fuck, that only sends more blood rushing straight down south. Stepping away, I try to bring myself under control.
I’m as satisfied as I can be—she’s no physical threat to the Satan’s Devils, but to me? I wonder if there’s a chance I can persuade her to stay the night and give my cock some relief inside what I expect would be a very sweet pussy. Obviously, I wouldn’t be able to go there if Viper really is her old man. I couldn’t do that to a brother if her story is true. In which case, I’ll definitely need the services of both Pussy and Allie, and maybe even Jill as well.
When I’m able to walk without embarrassing myself, I invite her into the clubhouse. “Come on then, come inside.”
Now I know I might know next to nothing about her, but when she goes stiff and tense as she hears the rowdy noise spilling out of the doors, and for the first time I see a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes, I wouldn’t be at all surprised if she hasn’t thought through what coming to a biker clubhouse might actually entail. I take her arm, not to be friendly, but to encourage her in. If what she’s told me is fact, well, who knows how the fuck it’s going to play out? If Viper denies all knowledge, then she’s out on her ass, and fucking fast. Never mind how much my cock would like it to play out another way.
It’s not one of our official party night
s, but there’s still enough of the boys here. And fuck me if the first thing that greets us isn’t Viper getting a fucking blow job from Pussy. Raising my eyes to the ceiling, I shake my head. If she’s told me the truth, this is about as far from the best fucking way I’d have wanted her to see her father for the first time. Making a split-second decision, I pull her toward the bar, purposefully ignoring what’s going on behind me.
Marsh runs up, a beer already in his hand, and falters when he sees the strange woman by my side. He recovers fast, his eyes registering my quick nod before he asks, “What can I get for you, sweetheart?”
She points at my beer. “One of those will do me.”
Good, she’s not demanding a girly drink. She turns as if to survey the clubroom, but I quickly get her attention back to me. “So, your bike. You really restored that yourself?”
A fleeting smile and a glimmer of pride shines in her eyes before she says, “Sure did.”
“I’m betting there’s a story behind that.”
She looks down at her beer. “Sure is,” she mumbles, and then changes the subject. “So, is Viper here?”
My eyes go to the mirror behind the bar; Viper’s still otherwise engaged. Whoever she is and wherever she’s come from, this is categorically not a good moment to introduce her to the man she’s come to find. I doubt Viper would want the interruption either. “So how did you come across it?” I ask to distract her.
There’s a hesitation before she answers, and when I think I’m going to have to prompt her again, she starts to open up. “When Mom and Viper, er…” Her face is going a delightful shade of pink, and I guess what she’s alluding to.
“When your mom and Viper fucked?” I suggest, helpfully.
She’s bright red now, as she confirms my assumption. “Yeah. I told you they did it in a barn. Well, the Vincent was there, buried under some junk. An unrecognisable heap of metal as far as Mom was concerned, but Matt, Viper, well, he knew what it was. She said she’d thought he had more of a hard-on for the bike than for her.” She laughs. It’s not a feminine laugh, more of a masculine chuckle which rumbles as though making the air vibrate and going straight to my dick.
“When I was born, we were living hand to mouth. When I grew older, Mom got the manager’s job, but we’d gotten so used to not having money to spare that she’d managed to get quite a bit saved up. For my sixteenth birthday she wanted to give me something special.” Her eyes seem to glaze over as she gets lost in the past. “I’d been hanging around the garage for years, ever since I could remember. The guys let me help around the cars from the time I could walk, and the bikes. Especially the bikes.” She pauses to smile at what is clearly a pleasant memory for her. “So, when she asked what I wanted for my birthday, I said a motorcycle.”
It’s obvious where this is going, but I have to confirm it. “She got you the Vincent.”
“Yeah,” another smile. “she didn’t want me to have something I was going to kill myself on, well, not immediately.”
“So, she gave you something you could kill yourself on after you restored it?”
She shakes her head and that chuckle rumbles through me again. “I don’t think she believed I’d be able to do much with it. I didn’t know why at the time, but she got in touch with the owner of the barn and bought it fairly cheaply. The man who owned it knew he had something special by the emblem, but thought it was beyond repair. She offered five hundred for it, he wanted another zero on the end. After a bit of bartering she got it for two grand.”
As I’m thinking she got it for a bargain, Sam’s looking distant, and I believe she’s only just putting it all together—why that particular bike had been purchased for her. It makes me wonder. “Your mom. There ever been anyone else for her? She hook up with another man? You got a stepdad, darlin’?”
An adamant dismissive movement. “Never. And no, it was always just her and me.”
She held a torch all those years for the boy who’d left her pregnant? Well, fuck me. I take a long drink. If this story’s right, and there’s one fuck of a lot of detail here for it not to be, would Viper remember? Would he recognise the bike? What’s he going to think of his daughter who restored it, presumably by her own hands? Starting to get a grudging admiration for her, I want her to clarify who actually did the work.
“You get much help fixing it up?”
“The guys were good, I got one hell of a lot of advice and a hand here and there when a nut or bolt was too tight for me to turn, but I did it all. It took a while to source the replacement parts I needed—most are original, but I had a few machined for me. I finished it while Mom was in the hospital.” Her eyes grow watery. “She never saw it.”
I can’t stop myself. I reach out and put my arm around her, pulling her to me briefly, and then letting her go after giving her a manly pat on the back while reminding myself she could be here for a totally different reason and the whole account could be a fabrication, just like those spares for her bike.
No tears fall, and she’s had enough distraction. Pulling herself up straight, she looks me directly in the eyes. It’s a fair way up from her five foot eight or so as I stand more than a head taller. “Is Viper here?” she asks again, this time forcefully, and I know I won’t be able to delay any longer.
Neither can I stop her swinging around, and as I turn at the same time, it’s to see Viper pulling out and pushing his cock back into his pants, a well-satisfied look on his face. Her sharp inhale can only be interpreted as disgust at the scene playing out in front of her eyes, and she looks smartly away, her gaze flicking around the clubhouse, settling on the other members as though trying to find the man she’s hoping to see. Well, it’s too late, what she’s seen can’t be unseen. I don’t suppose there is ever going to be a good time to make this introduction.
“Viper!” I call out, beckoning him over, hearing her gasp beside me as she notices just exactly whose attention I’ve caught with my shout. Without looking to see her reaction, I take her arm again. “Grab your beer. Let’s take this to my office. Viper!” I call out to him again and wave my bottle indicating I want him to follow us.
Chapter Four
Sam…
Oh shit! The president, Drummer, is beckoning me to follow him. And the man who’s just been enjoying a blow job by a whore—I’m assuming it’s not his old lady as she looked like a real slut—right in plain view of everyone answered to the name Viper. That’s my dad?
Right now I want to get back on my bike and ride. Miles away. I don’t care where. Of course, I didn’t know what kind of man I expected to find, but it certainly wasn’t someone I’d catch doing that. To be fair, my mom had warned me about biker clubs, trying to put me off going to find the man who’d caused my existence, but knowing when she’d gone I’d have nobody left, she had given me all the details that would enable me to find him if it turned out I wanted to.
But shit, it’s clear now that biker clubs aren’t going to be like anything I’ve ever experienced before, even though I’ve led a life mainly surrounded by members of the opposite sex. In my naivete, I had thought the men I would find would be more like the mechanics I worked with, maybe a bit rougher around the edges. What I’ve seen so far is enough to show me they’re an entirely different breed.
Pulling back my shoulders, I give myself a pep talk. I’ve come a heck of a long way to reach the end of my journey. Perhaps I shouldn’t rush to condemn him without letting him even speak, maybe I should take the time and meet him properly and then leave.
As my feet stay glued to the spot, Drummer turns back and pauses his step, waiting for me to start moving toward him. One last moment of indecision, then, having seen Viper putting himself back in his pants and zipping up, wishing his prez had given him time to at least wash his hands, I follow the two men into an office.
There’s a big flag behind a desk, a full-scale version of the picture they have on the back of their cuts. As Lucifer looms large holding a scythe over the three demons crouched below
him, I suppress a shudder at the image. Hanging as it is over the president’s desk, it’s intimidating, just as it’s probably meant to be.
Seating himself behind a desk large enough to emphasise his position in the club, Drummer waves Viper and I to two seats conveniently placed in front. Viper’s staring at me, his features pulled into an expression which is half-sneer, half look of confusion. After examining me from head to toe in a way that makes me shift very uncomfortably, his lips curl into an outright evaluating leer, and he turns to Drummer.
“New sweet butt, Drum?”
Drummer snorts. Taken by surprise, it seems even he didn’t expect that my father’s first reaction would be to reveal he has the hots for me. I open my mouth to cut that shit out fast, but Drummer beats me to it.
“No fuckin’ way, Brother. She’s off-limits, particularly to you. Seems she might be a relative of yours and she wants to talk to you about it.” As Viper looks even more confused, Drummer continues, “It’s a personal matter. Want that I should go?”
No! My eyes plead with him. Drum might have been surly and mistrustful from the moment I met him, but there have been a couple of times he’s shown some sympathy. Something about him draws me to him, something that makes me hope he’d be on my side. The other man, what do I know of him? Nothing except he sees nothing wrong in getting a blow job in the middle of a crowded room and that I carry part of his DNA. The vibes coming from him don’t make me at all comfortable. I start to think I might have been stupid coming here. Mom warned me to steer clear for a reason.
Viper’s looking at me with distaste, and while his eyes watch me, he directs his words to his president. “Well, she isn’t my sister or mother, and I don’t have no fuckin’ other female relatives, so I think you better stay, Drum. Don’t know what this is about, but it has to be a fuckin’ con.”
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