“Brother?” I shout over to Cannon.
I stand up so fast that my cock pops straight out of the chick as she slides off my lap and onto the floor. I quickly push my hard dick back into my jeans, but I’m not small by any means and it’s fucking uncomfortable especially when I catch a couple of pubes in the zipper when I pull it up.
“Not now, Mammoth!”
Coming to a sudden stop, Cannon turns, holding his hand out in front of him and barks at me, “Keys.”
Grabbing the bunch from the table where he’d left them earlier, I throw them to him as I descend the steps to follow him. It’s now that I realise that the girl that he’s holding firmly by the arm is Leah Sparks. The girl that the club has been protecting for the past few years in return for her brother’s silence on the Young Outlaws illegal movements, while doing time for a different computer hacking charge.
“Fuck!” I mutter to myself. What the hell is she doing here and who’s head is going to roll for not making it known. Shit, Toothpick is a dumb motherfucker.
“You need any help, brother?” I ask as he continues to walk away. I take my place beside the cute, little pixie and Toothpick, knowing that if Cannon is going to blow, then I need to stay close.
“Nope, I got this,” he hails over his shoulder on his way to his truck. After safely depositing Leah inside the vehicle, slamming the door so hard that I’m surprised the glass hasn’t shattered, he makes a beeline for us.
“How did you get here?” He asks Pixie.
“Car of course.”
“What fucking car?” Cannon curses back at her.
“It’s parked over there somewhere.” She lazily points over in the direction of where there’s nothing but rough ground.
“Get her back to her car Mammoth, and make sure she goes home.” He takes a step closer to her and it takes everything I have not to put my hands on him and push him back. A nerve ticks in my neck, but then I tell myself, that whatever the circumstances, he would never physically hurt a woman. Cannon hisses at her, warning her no doubt, but I can’t hear it over my own pulse pounding in my ear.
The slight lift of the corner of her mouth and the heat in her eyes tells me that she ain’t scared, if anything, she’s aroused.
“Fucking get her out of here Mammoth, before I throw her to the wolves.”
Chapter 4
Mammoth
“Are you sure we are walking in the right direction?” I ask her, as we start out across the rough land. “If you’re looking for the dirt track, you’re going the wrong way.” I walk a couple of steps behind her, doing my best not to be totally fixated on her firm, round ass. But it’s fucking difficult when the globes of her butt cheeks are perfectly visible, the fabric of her daisy dukes cut way too high, making it impossible not to look. She’s not tall by any means, but fuck… her legs, they seem to go on for ever.
“Is that so Mr. Biker Dude?” She spins around to face me. Left eyebrow up, lips pursed, a hand resting on her raised hip, her stance emanates obstinacy and tenacity.
The red strapless top that she’s wearing is only defying gravity because of her pert tits holding up the fabric.
“How can you be so sure? You got a built in sat nav or something?” The cocky tone to her voice should piss me off, but in fact I end up suppressing a smile. She is so animated with her posture, her expressions, her mouth.
“No, but I’ve lived here all my life and know the land like the back of my hand. If you keep on going the way you’re heading, you’re gonna end up in the swamp.”
“Okay Mr know-it-all, which way should we be going then?” I point in the direction of where the dirt road is, that leads down to the main road. I’m guessing that’s where she left her car.
Following my instruction, she turns on her heels. I widen my stride until I’m walking by her side, rather than behind because my cock can’t stand the pressure of having to watch her ass as it sways with every step she takes.
“That Cannon guy is an asshole,” she blurts out of nowhere. While I don’t respond to her slight on my brother, she obviously still feels the need to vent. “The party was just getting started for us before he got all high and mighty.” Still I keep on walking, no comment.
“He sure as hell lost his shit, didn’t he? Little over the top if you ask me. Come to think of it,” she stops walking, puts her hand up in the air her index finger pointing upwards. A half turn towards me and she’s waving said finger towards my face. “That’s it. Leah, it was when he saw Leah.” I grab hold of her finger; her hand is cold, but the surge of electricity that bounces from her hand to mine is insane. I stifle the urge to wrap her hands in mine to warm the soft, velvet skin, to take advantage of the incredible phenomenon. Instead I push her hand down to her side. “Is something going on between those two?”
I ignore her questioning and start walking again, knowing that I need to put some distance between us before I step out of line. This little pixie sized siren might look like she’s in her twenties, but if she’s a school girlfriend of Leah, chances are she’s younger than see looks. Stepping out onto dirt track that should lead us to where she has supposedly left her car, she quickly follows.
“To be honest, I think she’s crushing on him too. Ouch!” she cries out, when in her haste to keep up with me she stumbles on the uneven ground. I quickly grab her by the waist, bringing her body into mine to stop her from falling on her ass. Heat radiates between us and when I look down at her I get my chance to take a closer look.
Her hair is spearmint green, cut short around the ears with a spike to the top. It’s so elf like, hence prompting the nickname Pixie. The colour only emphasizes the vivid green of her eyes, making them pop against her sun-kissed skin. In contrast, her plump lips are perfectly defined by the flawlessly applied, red glossy lipstick making them look like sweet ripe strawberries. Not smudged or smeared… untouched and as tempting as fuck.
“Bit overprotective though, don’t you think?” she says with short, sharp breaths. Our faces are barely an inch or two from each other, so close that the air that she exhales tickles my beard hair.
“I was trying to stop you from falling on your ass.”
She blinks, once, twice then corrects me with “I was talking about Cannon.”
What do I do? I grunt. I fucking grunt like the overgrown, hormonal mammal that my nickname derives from.
What the fuck?
“So, what’s that all about?” I look at her blankly, not sure if she’s referring to my Neanderthal sounding noise or back to Cannon’s earlier behaviour. She gets me, because she clarifies with, “Cannon, acting like a possessive boyfriend which is a joke when he’d only just come up for air after giving head to one of your… women.”
“None of the club women belong to me.” I quickly respond, not sure why I have the urge to defend myself.
“Really? Didn’t look that way to me.” I groan at the realisation that she’s clearly referring to my earlier al fresco sexual display on the front porch.
“He’s only protecting the club… fuck it!” I stop my mouth before I say anymore; that one sentence is already far too much. Turning my back, I start walking away from her.
“The club, what has Leah got to do with the club?” she questions as she hobbles behind me. She must have hurt her ankle, but that’s not surprising in those sexy but stupid high shoes.
“Does she know something that she shouldn’t? Oh my God. What is he going to do to her, where is he taking her?” When I don’t respond and keep on walking, she almost hops on one leg to catch up with me. When she does, she pulls at my arm until I stop and face her.
“I swear on my life,” she punches me in the bicep. “If he hurts her.” She hits me with another couple of punches, but by the look on her face it’s hurting her a lot more than it is me, but she keeps on going. A punch punctuates every other word that comes out of her pretty little mouth. “I’ll smack him so hard in the nuts he won’t know where his dick ends, and his epiglottis starts.”<
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“Enough,” I growl at her, taking her by the wrists. When she fights me, I start to lose my shit, so I let go of her only to scoop her up, throwing her over my shoulder and carry on to where I can see the very top of the roof of a car.
“Let me down you motherfucker!” she screams while pummelling at my back with her fists. When I quickly pivot her legs up, so that she nearly flips right over my shoulders, she suddenly stops, and grips hold of the back of my leather cut.
“You fucking asshole,” she mutters, but the fight in her seems to have diminished a little.
It only takes a few minutes before we get to a black Toyota Camry, which being the only car around, must be hers. I let her feet drop to the floor, but I take hold of her arm.
Swinging open the door, I sit her down into the passenger seat and shut the door, before moving around the car to the driver side. Getting in, I nearly smash my head on the top of the door frame. I lean in and push back the seat as far as it will go before getting in. Once seated, I lean my body over towards the passenger side, so I have enough room to pull the door shut.
The car isn’t that small but it’s not big either. In comparison to Cannon’s truck it’s a tight squeeze for me with my broad shoulders, long legs and muscle.
Even though she’s tiny, my bulging arms brush up against hers and the heat that radiates from her bare skin to mine has my cock hardening again.
“Keys!” I hold my hand out to her.
“I’m quite capable of driving myself. It’s not like I’m drunk or anything.”
“Do you even have a licence for this heap of junk?”
“Yes, and don’t talk about Delilah like that,” she snips, running her hand across the dash like she’s offering comfort to the car against my insult.
“I’ve heard it all now,” I laugh out loud. “You’ve named your car Delilah, as in the Temptress who entrapped and then betrayed her lover, Samson?”
“Wow! Who’d have thought that you’d know that?”
“What, that I’m not just some dumb fuck biker?”
“Well you’re far from the typical member of a church loving, bible hugging, Sunday congregation. In fact, I’d say that you are on the total opposite side of the spectrum.”
“Don’t be fooled Sweet Cheeks, what you see, isn’t necessarily what you get.”
“The names Dana, not Sweet Cheeks,” she snaps back. “So, are you trying to tell me that you’re not a six-foot, bare chested, hairy fucker? Next, you’ll be making out that you’re the leader of the local scout group. Anyway, I thought you biker dudes name your motorcycles?”
I let out a snigger that comes out with a snort at the same time and hope that it doesn’t translate to the fact that, shit, she got me there.
“Come to think of it, why are you topless?”
“It’s hot, and I’m not topless, I’m wearing my cut.” I say in my defence. “And do me a favour, will you. Never put biker and dude together when you’re talking about a member of the Young Outlaws.”
She shrugs her shoulders and giggles, giving me a hint of how young she is. On the outside she might look mature but some of her actions give her away.
“Now, just give me the keys, will ya.”
I expect her to continue to argue, but instead she slides the palm of her hand between the cleavage of her tight red top and produces a single key, that’s attached to a bright green fluffy ball of something. I can’t help but wonder if the colour and vibrancy of it is what gave her the inspiration for her hair.
How the hell she managed to fit it down there eludes me, but the way her tits wobble as she retrieves it makes my dick instantly grateful for the little display. The urge to taste her silky flesh has me licking me lips, and the thought of it has me nearly losing my shit. Instead, I avert my gaze and make out that I’m checking the gas gauge, flicking on the wipers to make sure the ride is safe. How stupid is that?
Why am I putting myself through this?
I know Cannon said to get her out of here, but why the fuck didn’t I just stick her in her car and let her drive herself.
My conscience is telling me that I’m only following Cannon’s instructions – make sure she goes the fuck home, and that’s why I’ve had this stupid notion to actually drive her.
In reality, I know that I’ve put myself in reaching distance of delicious temptation and one that, morally and legally, I need to resist.
Behaving like this has made things a shit-ton more difficult for myself, but then again life has never led me down an easy road. Which in turn, has built within me a strength and a ‘fight not flight’ principle that I live and will probably die by.
You see, I’m not one to say no to a pretty girl, even if I’m not really in the mood for sex. I like to think that if the girls willing to put the effort in, and she gets off, leaving her happy and contented, then I’m not averse to letting her ride my cock for a while. Hell, I might even get some relief if the lady in question has a hot, tight pussy and she’s making all the right moves. If I happen to get my rocks off, a blow, then I’ll chalk that down as a win. Besides, what single guy is going to say no if its laid on a plate. It ain’t like I’ve got an old lady to consider.
Yet, in such close proximity to her, my dick is defying my brain and wants to play hide and seek in a warm, wet cunt. And for some reason this cute as shit pixie with her tight little ass and fuck me legs that I’d love to run my tongue up from toe to hot spot, has me reacting like a brainless nut-sack.
Why the fuck is that?
Whatever, the one thing I know without a doubt is that the quicker I get her home, the fucking better.
Only adding to my current torturous status, making this decidedly worse, is the fact that this sardine can of a shit car of hers, is a fucking stick shift.
Chapter 5
Mammoth
When I start the car up, it immediately jolts forward, the engine cutting, because she’d left it in gear. I side eye her when she lets out a snigger. With my foot now on the clutch, I leave it in first and give it some gas, but when I take off the handbrake and start to relax the clutch the engine over revs. Pulling back even more on the clutch, the car starts to bounce like a bucking bronco until it stalls again.
“Hey biker dude, do you have a drivers’ licence?” she says cockily mirroring my earlier question. “Maybe you should let me drive.”
Now, however big and intimidating I might look with my huge frame, long messed up hair and beard that partially hides the silver scar that runs from the corner of my eye to my firm square jaw, I’m far from the nastiest bastard in the club. That’s unless you push the buttons that cause me to totally lose my shit. Then I become the monster that most people, who don’t know me, perceive me to be.
I can take a hell of a lot of shit before I lose my cool. Even my brothers constantly try to get a rise out of me, and many a time will put a wager on who can get me to crack first. Nine times out of ten, the joke is on them when the one who ends up winning the cash, with a smile on their face, is me.
However, Dana seems to have this ability to strip away my calm restraints, leaving me cranky and highly strung.
“It’s not me,” I snarl, slamming my foot back down on the peddle and turning the key. I jerk the gear shift around before pushing it back into first with a punishing force. I’ve never been one to take kindly to criticism for my driving or riding skills, but I usually laugh it off with the return of an equally insulting quip. But when it comes from this particular wisp of a girl, even as hot as she is, it fucking riles me, and I’m about to blow.
“It’s this piece of shit car. What on earth possessed you to buy a car with manual transmission?” At last, I get the car to start moving and I hit the gas pedal. With every crunch of the gears, Dana’s laughter becomes more raucous, but when I get into fourth, and start to build up some speed her laughter starts to subside back to a more subdued chuckle.
“Oh, I didn’t buy the car.” I see in my peripheral vision how her bright red lips
curl into a mischievous smile. “Leah and I needed a ride, so I…”
“You stole the car?” I cry out with astoundment. “The fuck, girl. Are you trying to get yourself arrested?” Slamming on the brakes, her body jerks forward, my instincts kick in and I put my arm across her chest to stop her hitting the windscreen. We come to a sudden stop. Flinging open the car door, I heave myself out and walk around to the passenger side. I pull on the handle with such force that I’m surprised it doesn’t come off in my hand. “Get out of the fucking car.”
“I told you I should be the one doing the driving,” she says, hip cocked and a smirk on her face that if she had been a man, I’d have slapped it off. Turning, she starts to walk around the car, but I grab her arm, pulling her back towards me.
“Nobody is driving the fucking car.” I quickly survey the area, checking to see if anyone is in the vicinity, but as we’re still on the dirt track and as yet not hit the main road, it’s unlikely. But knowing my luck… “I’ll get one of the prospectors to move it and get it off our fucking land. If the cops find it here and start sniffing around, they’ll be tagging us for every felony that a Camry has been involved in within a three-hundred-mile radius. The club could be fucked, do you realise that? This could cost us some serious dollar to get the cops off our back.” I turn my gaze back to her and on seeing the expression on her face, I realise that I’m beginning to scare her. “Let’s get back to the club house before this shit blows up.” I start to walk back the way we had already come, pulling her behind me. “Then I’ll take you home.”
“Stop!” she shouts as she pulls back from me. “The car is mine. I was just playing with you.” I spin around to face her.
“You lied.” I hate liars.
“Not really. I didn’t buy the car, my dad did, but my names on the registration. You were the one that jumped to conclusions. Do I look like the type of person that would steal a car?”
JUSTICE (YOUNG OUTLAWS MC Book 2) Page 3
