by Ella Goode
“It’s a beach, Dane.” She shoves the jacket to the ground.
I pick it up and put it back on her. “There are plenty of people who wear clothes to the beach.”
“Not if you want a tan.” Down the jacket goes.
“Tanning is bad for you. Causes cancer.” I place it over her front.
“No one likes pasty skin.” The jacket falls to the sand.
“I do. Pasty skin is my favorite.” I throw it over her.
She bats it away. “Are you saying my skin is pasty?”
“I think you have lovely skin,” chirps Cece. “How’d you find us, anyway?”
Joy and I engage in a mini wrestling match where I try not to use my superior strength to wrap her up and bind her with my arms.
“You have your location on your Instagram post.”
“Cece!” Joy cries in admonishment.
Cece scrambles for her phone. “I’m sorry! My location is always on. We’re influencers. We’re supposed to be influencing! How are you even following me? I never gave you my handle.”
“You comment on Joy’s posts and vice versa. It wasn’t hard.” These two women are a menace. They cannot be left alone. A frisbee lands near Joy’s feet. I get up and kick it away. A young guy, barely old enough to grow facial hair, saunters over. “Hey, man, did you just punt my disc? That is not cool. Ladies.” He nods toward Joy and Cece.
I step between him and the girls and clear my throat. “Your frisbee is melting. You best go and get it before it’s a lump of plastic.”
The punk leans to the left for a better view. “Y’all look thirsty. We’ve got a mini-keg and some weed over here. Medicinal, of course.” He winks.
“For your erection problem? I heard that doesn’t work,” I tell him. Behind me, the girls muffle a giggle.
“No man. It’s just—look, I know these two. I follow you on Insta, Joy. You, too, Cece. I’m with the HAGs. I’m sure you’ve seen my content on Instagram. I was on the featured page a few months ago for my FOTD. I had the Air Force 1 kicks that I’d copped off the hype drop last season and the RTW Fendi logo large collar button down with the lizard leather hammered gold Gucci belt. I like brand mixing.”
I eye him suspiciously. Is he even talking English anymore? “That’s great, but it’s time for you to move along. You’re blocking the girls’ sun.”
“I thought sun gave you cancer,” chirps Cece unhelpfully.
“I said tanning gave you cancer.”
“I can put some sunscreen on you,” the acronym-spitting dude offers.
“No. You can’t,” I say between gritted teeth. If I pull my gun on this guy, would anyone be real mad? I finger the butt of my gun. Some guys need a good pistol whipping once in their lives. Teaches them manners. I drop my hand to my side with a sigh. Best not do that here. I’ll probably get arrested and then Joy’s bed will be empty. We can’t have that. “Your mom is here, and she’s trying to get your attention.”
“What?” His head spins around so fast it reminds me of a horror movie.
“I’m ready to go,” Joy announces. Her lips are twitching, trying to suppress a smile. “How about you Cece?”
“For world peace,” she says mournfully.
The two stand up with Joy thankfully wearing my bomber which stops at mid-thigh. Next time I should wear a trench coat just in case Joy decides to run around town naked again.
“So soon?” dudebro says, his attention re-engaged. “I’m telling you our party is lit as fuck. We can take some snaps, choose some filters, and upload some sick photos.”
“I really can’t. I don’t think I’m into conjugal visits,” sighs Joy, who bends over to pick up her bag. I grab it from her and tuck it under my arm.
“Conjugate what?” Dude asks.
How has this guy not moved on yet?
“She means that her boyfriend is going to shoot you if you don’t move along,” Cece interprets for the first time.
Dude’s eyes fall to the strap of my shoulder holster and then widen when he realizes what it is. “Y-yeah s-so I’ll see you later. On the internet.”
I growl.
“Or not. I’ll unfollow you actually. I never liked your content anyway.”
“What’d you just say?” This shithead didn’t just insult my woman’s content? I step toward him.
“I’m just going to leave now.” The man turns and flees. I start after him, but Joy grabs my arm.
“It’s fine. I don’t want people like him following my account anyway. My feed is for women and not to pick up guys,” she assures me.
“That does make me feel marginally better.” I throw their beach towels over my shoulder and once all the gear is packed, I usher the two women toward the parking lot. “Since I broke up your beach time, how about I spring for ice cream?”
“We had it before we laid down on the sand,” Cece says.
“There’s no rule against how much ice cream a person can eat in a day.” After I drop everything off in the back of my truck, we walk to the ice cream stand. Suddenly, a motorcycle engine roars loudly and speeds down the road. Joy lets out a surprised yelp. I push the two women behind me and out of the road just in time.
“Oh my God, they almost ran us over.” Joy’s cone is about to fall out of her hand. I tip it upright and glare after the bike. The caked-on mud obscures the license plate. I do register that it’s a black Harley low-rider with a one-percenter logo on the gas tank. Something bothers me, but I can’t figure it out. It’s probably a coincidence and nothing to be concerned about. Still, as we eat our cones, I keep a careful eye out for any suspicious activity.
“So you’re my boyfriend now, huh?” murmurs Joy, her pink tongue scooping the vanilla bean into her mouth.
I force my eyes to the road. “I was the minute I had my mouth on you, sweets.”
Cece nearly chokes on her ice cream while Joy turns bright red.
“You blushing is cute. You wearing that bathing suit is also cute. You wearing that bathing suit out in public is not so cute.” I tug the front of the jacket closed. “Someone like the frisbee nerd could make a mistake, and then I’d have to hurt him.”
“You couldn’t control yourself?” Joy says.
I don’t know what to answer because she takes another long lick of her cone, and all the blood disappears from my big head and drains into my groin. Beyond thinking of what I’d like to do to her tongue—namely having it curled around my cock—I can’t form actual sentences.
“I think you broke him,” Cece jokes.
“He’s probably trying to figure out all the lingo that the surfer was spilling. FOTD is fit of the day. RTW is ready to wear. Air Force Ones are a popular kicks, and cop a drop means to buy something that is only sold in sort of like a capsule collection and is only available for a short time,” Joy says.
I should pay attention, but again, her mouth is moving, and it’s so pretty and so full and the ice cream has made it wet, and all I can really think about is her on her knees with those plump lips parted as she takes my dick into her throat. I clear my throat and avert my gaze. At the end of the road, I spot the tailpipe of that Harley idling in front of a clothing store.
“We should get moving,” I say gruffly. “Storm’s coming.”
The two look up at the clear blue sky.
“I didn’t realize it was supposed to rain today,” Cece says.
“Things change. Weather’s unpredictable.” I toss my napkin into the trash and nod for the two to get into their car. “I’ll follow you home.”
They don’t argue. Our route takes us past the now empty bike. Just inside the doors of the shop, standing beside a mannequin dressed in gardening clothes, is a heavily bearded, leather cut-wearing biker. The gleam of the chrome pipes on the Harley wink at me, and I realize what I found so odd about the bike. It’s polished and gleaming everywhere but the license plate. My suspicions come roaring back. It’s a little too coincidental that a one-percenter is following my girl around right after I haul
one of their women to the courthouse. The coward’s probably thinking that he’ll hurt Joy instead of coming directly for me. That won’t do at all.
When we get home, I ask Joy for a minute.
“Take at least an hour,” Cece jokes. “I don’t want Joy to come back home feeling unfulfilled.”
Joy throws her flip-flop at Cece’s head, but the roommate has already slipped inside the back door before contact can be made.
“What is it?” Joy asks, looking adorably lopsided as she rubs her toes against the top of her other foot. “And don’t bring up the crying.”
“The crying?” I’d forgotten she’d teared up when she came. “Why would I bring it up? It was hot as fuck.”
“It’s embarrassing, okay? I’m not a crier.”
“Sure, but it’s not like I didn’t like it.” I decide not to share with her that I have a little fantasy of making her eyes water while I shoot cum down her throat. There’s something more important that we both need to focus on. “We can talk more about that later, but for now, I need you to stop sharing your location on your socials. The motorcycle that almost ran you over when we got ice cream looks like it belongs to the guy from Club Tango.”
“Long Dong Silver?” she blurts out.
I blink. “Are you giving another guy’s cock a nickname?” Now I know why they were mad I called Cece Double C.
“Noooo,” she protests. “It’s just a stupid rhyme. Cece posted about him on Insta after we got home and someone in the comments gave him a nickname. Anyway, why is he after me? I didn’t do anything.”
“But I did. That was probably his old woman, and he’s pissed. I don’t want you to be afraid, but you need to be careful.” I tuck my fist under her chin and tilt her head up so she can see how serious I am. “If Cece has family around, she should go stay with them. You can move in with me.”
It’s not a request. I drop my hand to clasp hers and make for her house. “Throw together a few things.”
“Are you sure this is necessary?” Joy tugs at my grip.
“Rather be safe than sorry.” My instincts have rarely misled me.
“But I can’t stay in your house forever.”
“Why not?”
“Because...” She doesn’t have a good answer. I pull open the door and shove her gently inside.
“Pack.” I close the door and pull out my phone. It’s time to track this loser down and tell him how it’s all going to play out. Specifically, he’s going to leave Joy alone. If he has a problem, he can take it up with me, but involving an innocent like Joy is out of the question.
The warrant for the old broad has her address. The street view shows a small home with some kids’ toys out front. Beer bottles are on the front porch and the railing is half falling off the deck. Easy enough to rip a board off and beat the guy’s face in if that’s the kind of lesson he needs. I might do it even if he doesn’t provoke me so word gets around that Dane Hardy’s woman is off limits.
Sixteen
Joy
“You sure you don’t need more stuff?” Dane says over his shoulder as he takes another box filled with my things over to his place. If I need something I’ll be able to pop over and get it, I would think. I guess these MC guys will be watching the place. I’ll still only be right next door. It’s not like they won’t be able to find me there.
I think it would have made more sense if I’d gone with Cece to her brother's place. It was Dane’s tone and the look in his eyes that got Cece to pack up her stuff and head to her brother’s. She stays over there from time to time. They have always been close.
Dane comes back with a now empty box. He keeps dumping my stuff at his place and refilling the same box. “If they are watching my place then they will still see me 'cause you live next door,” I point out. “You don’t think I should have just gone with Cece to her brother’s?”
“No,” he barks out.
“Yeah, you’re right. It’s been awkward since he tried to kiss me.”
Dane stops throwing things into the box. “He what?”
I wave my hand. “No big deal. He was drunk.” It wasn't a big deal but still a touch awkward. I’m not really sure how to act around him now. I don’t know if he even remembers. The look on Dane’s face tells me that he doesn’t share my opinion of it not being a big deal. I’d say by the set of his jaw and the way he’s grasping the box that he thinks it’s a very big deal.
“He just got out of a bad breakup. These things happen.” His grip on one of my glass candles tightens. I got a set of three of them on sale. It’s a thing of mine. I love candles lit at night and fresh flowers.
“These things just don't happen.”
“That candle is new, and it smells wonderful.” He looks down at it in his hand. “Put it in the box gently.” His brows furrow together, but he does as I ask.
“I don’t want to scare you, Joy, I really don’t, but they're not after Cece. It’s you they want. Partly because of me and partly because you grabbed the skip.” I let out a long sigh. He’s right. I’m relieved that they won’t be trying to track Cece down at least.
“Why would they use me to get to you? I mean, I get them being mad about me grabbing her, but why would they need me to get back at you?” I bite my lip. He puts my candle down in the box before coming over toward me.
“I think you know why.” He tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear.
“Are these motorcycle guys like the ones you read about in books?” I ask.
“The ones you read? Probably not.”
“What's with the judgment? I told you we didn't even need to pack all my books!” I look around for my Kindle, but I think he already took it over to his place. He grabs me by the chin. His touch is soft.
“No judgment, sweets. I just want you to know that this is real. These aren’t men that fall hopelessly in love. They are bad men who do bad things. Most don’t have respect for their woman.”
“Do any men fall hopelessly in love?” I try and tease. My heart flutters when his eyes turn more intense. My entire body heats with that simple glance. He has a way of doing that. It both scares and excites me at the same time.
“Yeah, I think some do.” He bends down, brushing his mouth against mine. I drop whatever it is that I’m holding as the kiss starts to deepen. “Fuck,” he mutters, taking a step back from me. “Later. I need to finish getting you into my place.” I nod, moving a little faster.
When his door shuts and I hear the lock click into place is when I realize how much of my stuff he’s actually brought over to his place. This looks as though I’ll be staying for more than a couple of days.
“It looks like I live here.” I laugh. He doesn't. He turns and punches some number into his alarm to arm it. The look he gives me has me sucking in a breath. It’s only seconds before he’s all over me. His mouth takes mine in a fierce kiss. I give as good as he does.
I start pulling at his clothes, wanting to be skin to skin with him. My back hits something soft. I’m guessing it’s the bed, but I’m too lost in him to care right now. All I know is I need him all over me. He pulls his mouth from mine. He pulls his shirt off over his head and tosses it to the side.
“Get them off.” I don’t hesitate as I start stripping out of the yoga pants and shirt I put on when we got back earlier. “No fucking panties?” he says as he watches me strip.
“I never wear them with yoga pants. You can see the lines, and I do a ton of live videos.”
“New rule. No leaving the house in yoga pants.” Before I can make my own retort, he’s undoing his jeans. He’s even got that deep V you seen on the men in magazines. I never understood what was so great about it until now. Until it was Dane’s deep V I was staring at.
He pulls his jeans and whatever else he has on off. I sit on his bed just staring at him. He grabs his cock, giving it a stroke. It looks too big to fit inside of me, but I do think I can stroke it like he’s doing. I could also taste it. I see a drop of cum on the tip. I want to taste
him the same way he tasted me. I lick my lips at the thought of giving him pleasure.
“Don’t even think about it. Next time. Maybe even in the shower.” Before I can voice my disagreement, his mouth is between my legs. I want to tell him that it’s not fair, but the only thing that comes out of my mouth are moans of pleasure. Then he adds his fingers to the mix, and the pleasure is so great that I can barely think. It should be against the law for his mouth to be this good.
The orgasm hits me fast and hard. The only thing I feel is the pleasure as it hums through my body. “Fuck, you’re beautiful. And all mine,” I think I hear him say as he settles over me and starts to push inside of me. I gasp when I feel a sharp pain. That mouth of his comes down onto mine.
“Always so damn sweet.” He pulls out. I wrap my legs around him quickly, thinking he’s going to try and pull away. I don’t want him going anywhere. Not that I could truly stop him, but he pushes right back inside me. Even deeper this time. I let out a loud moan.
My fingers dig into his back as he starts to move in and out of me. One of his hands cups my breast, and he pulls at my nipple, making me whimper. I’m so close again. How can I be about to come again already?
“Give it to me. I want it,” he asks against my ear. The hand he was using on my breast moves. His fingers go to my clit and begin to rub. I’m coming within seconds. I cry out his name as I wrap myself around him. I barely hear him groan out my name as his warmth fills me. My sex clamps around him like she never wants him to leave.
I don’t want him to leave, but he does slowly pull out of me. He still feels hard. He places kisses on my mouth. “Stop pouting. We’re not done.” I let out a small scream when he lifts me from the bed like I weigh nothing. He slaps me on the ass. I hear him turn the water on in the shower, and a moment later I feel the warmth on my skin as he lets me slide down his body.
“We’re going to have to get a house farther away from people. You’re a screamer.”
“I don’t scream.” I feel my lips purse, not because he called me a screamer but because I still want to be back in that bed. Not in the shower.
