by Nicole Fox
Still.
I knew club girls. I’d never been one, but if you lived life around bikers, you lived life around club girls. You knew what they were for. You knew what they were worth—at least in the eyes of the boys. I’d always been friends with the girls that hung around the Pride; they also tended to titter on and on about me and Trip.
“You know,” I said, “we’re talking an awful lot about other women, to say that this is a date—”
“It’s a date now, is it?”
“I’m calling it a date.”
He seemed pleased by that, and grinned.
“Well, good. I like the sound of that.”
Our food came out then, Candy swaying her hips this way and that way. Trip didn’t pay attention to them, though. He kept his eyes on me and I couldn’t help but squirm; his stare had always beenneedlessly intense.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
I rolled my eyes. As we continued to eat, I felt myself get more and more … open to this. Eating here with him. But yet again, I found myself wanting to clear the air on something.
“About the other day—”
“You don’t gotta apologize. I think it’d probably be better if we didn’t try this whole apology thing, considering where it gets us,” he said. I nudged my foot at him under the table.
“I’m sorry,” I said anyway. “You have to understand things are just—”
“Different.”
“Yeah.”
“You know,” he said. “I don’t think they’re as different as you’re making them out to be. But that’s all right.”
“It is?”
“Yeah. Like you said, it’s been five years … But there is something that I want.”
Of course there is.
“And what would that be, Trip?”
“Well, if this is a date,” he said, digging into the fourth massive slice of his pizza, “I think we should treat it like one. All the way through.” He grinned at me, and my heart fluttered. “You wanna have some fun after? To make up for time lost and … all this shit the last few days. We were always good at making up, you know.”
The air seemed to snap with the release of the tension that had been around us all day—hell, since I’d gotten back—with his brazen, bold words. I knew exactly what kind of fun he meant—and exactly how we used to make up back in the day. It was obvious in the way he looked at me. I had to wonder if that was the only reason he’d brought me out here with him today. I had to wonder even more if I actually cared—I knew that I should, but this was Trip; I’d always been weak for him.
I decided to play it cool, even though I felt my resolve slipping and slipping hard, right between my legs, where the memory of having him there was far too in the distant past. I wanted to make up. I wanted him, too, even though I knew I wouldn’t be able to have him for long.
“Depends on the kind of fun,” I said, sipping at my drink. “I don’t want Rose waiting up or thinking that something’s happened to me. Besides. If it’s making up, we should be thorough about it.” I nodded, and Trip matched mine with one of his own.
“Well, I was thinking something quick, but good. I can make up for being an ass when you’ve just gotten back.”
There was that phrase again, and the implication of his words was still there. I couldn’t pretend like there wasn’t one way that this was going to end. I should have been more opposed, but …
“Quick fun, you say?” I took a bite of my food, watching him. His eyes never left my mouth. When I flicked my tongue over my lips, he bit his own. The reaction made me feel powerful.
“Doesn’t sound like a lot of fun if it’s gonna be quick, Trip. And I don’t know if you can make up in such a short amount of time.”
“If I recall, it never took me too long to make you accept my apologies back in the day. Let me take care of you, Misha.”
It was a bad idea. I reminded myself—I wasn’t here for Trip. I wasn’t here to relive our younger days. Hell, I didn’t even know if there was a me and Trip to speak of. The boys at the bar could look at me and treat me like I was still his old lady all they wanted; didn’t mean that I was.
If I recall, it never took me too long to make you accept my apologies back in the day. Let me take care of you, Misha.
I’d missed it so much. Hadn’t realized how much until I’d come back and seen him again.
Maybe that’s all it was to him. Quick fun. If that’s all it was … just fun … Just making up.
It was a bullshit excuse, but I would take it and pretend like it was true nonetheless.
I sipped at my drink. I found myself a little too hot for my jeans, and I knew that there was something nagging between my legs and it was easy to pretend that if this was just for fun then it would be easy to treat it like that when it came time to snip Trip loose again when I left. But there was a reason that I had gotten involved with him in the first place. Trip was a hard man to resist, and I’d never been very good at telling him no. I might as well have been a horny teen again, not caring about caution all for the sake of the pretty boy across from me.
I wasn’t going to forgive myself, but if it meant sating part of this tension, then I would take it with a grain of salt and consider it my earned dues for the shit I’d had to go through.
“Five minutes,” I said, standing up. “We have to get back before sundown and you have work to do.”
I finished my drink and stood up, heading outside. But instead of going to Trip’s bike, I rounded the corner and went toward the alley beside the diner. Trip and I, when we were teens, had made use of that alley more often than not. We’d been stupid back then—apparently, we were still a little stupid.
It’d barely been two weeks, and I was already running back into Trip’s arms after having made the choice five years ago to leave them.
Chapter Five
Trip
I didn’t actually think that my flirting would get me anywhere. I’d hoped, but Misha was a stubborn woman. She had been so damn distant with me before this, but over the day we’d just slipped back into how we used to be. Or at least something that kind of felt like it.
I knew she was hiding something from me.
I knew she had gone through hell with the Jackals, regardless.
It didn’t matter when she agreed to some quick fun, though. Making up. If I was being honest, I hoped that it landed her with me longer than just something hard and quick. But for the time being, having spent the whole day with her, sitting across from her during dinner and seeing that she still reacted to me the way she used to, was enough.
I wanted her. She was mine. I’d make her remember what she’d obviously forgotten in five years.
I didn’t wait for Candy’s candy fake ass to come back around. I pulled out all the bills in my wallet, plenty to cover mine and Misha’s food, and more than a twenty percent tip before I headed out of the diner. I didn’t even bother to stop at Candy’s call, didn’t give her the satisfaction of giving her an answer, either.
I knew exactly where Misha headed. We’d done this a hundred times before.
She was leaned against the wall of the diner in the alley. She looked up to the sky, breathing in deeply. I was hungry for her in ways that I’d only ever been hungry for her. Never any other woman.
I took her face in my hands as soon as I was in front of her. I didn’t give her the time to change her mind, and I knew that she wouldn’t when she moaned against my lips. She tasted divine, felt better, too.
I didn’t want to give her time to decide she was gonna pull away from me. I hoisted her up against the wall. Her legs went instantly around my waist. Her shirt was a cute thing, little button up. I popped those top buttons open so I could kiss my way down to her breasts as they were exposed. They were full as ever, plump as fuck, and I wondered if that was because she’d had a child. I nuzzled my face there, inhaling her scent. She was sweet andfucking soft. Her nails raked through my hair and tugged hard, making me bite dow
n on her with a growl.
I smirked at her gasp. She was going to bruise.
“Trip, come on. We don’t have a lot of time.”
“Hush and let me take care of you.”
I covered her mouth with mine so she couldn’t protest anymore. We moaned together, tongues sliding over each other. We fit each other like a glove and it made my cock twitch to feel how easy it was to kiss her like I used to.
Like no time had passed.
I unbuttoned the rest of her shirt, growling against her lips. I slid my hands over her as her own started to wander. Her nails raked over my abs and clawed into me, making my cock ache.
“Fuck me, Trip. I missed you.”
Her praises made me buck against her.
“I’ll give you something to miss, baby.”
Her whine was high and pretty, and as she fumbled with my pants I meddled with hers, shoving my hand in when I got the damn button and zipper loose. My fingers dipped in past panties and over her soft, hot skin. She was totally bare, and she was soaked.
“You’re already so wet for me,” I growled, finding her sweet little spot, rubbing my fingers over it. She bucked against me with a gasp and the hand working my pants gripped my cock over them.
“Trip … more. You’re apologizing, remember?” She said it like that was the only reason that we were back here doing this, but I fucking knew better, and knew she did too.
“Yeah, making up.” I covered my mouth with hers again as I slipped fingers inside of her, loving the feeling of her inside wrapped hot and tight around me.
She was a desperate little thing when she got worked up. I fucking loved it, and dipped my fingers down to her soaking, aching hole. I spread that sweet wetness around her clit, making it slippery slick. I could feel how it twitched beneath my fingers and I worked her over as she pulled my cock from my pants and started to jerk me off.
“Fuck, just like that, Misha. Just like that.”
Her hand had never been able to wrap all the way around me, even when I was a teen and still growing. Her hand still couldn’t wrap all the way around me, even as her thin little fingers squeezed and stroked me like it was her tight little pussy around me. I bucked into her hand, balls tight and my slit aching.
I needed to fuck her, now! It’d been too damn long.
I put my face in her neck, and bit her. She’d mark up just like her tits, and I kind of liked that. No, I definitely liked that. Misha was mine. She’d never been Holland’s, sure as fuck had never been Rigger’s either. I held her to the wall and jerked her pants down as far as they would go.
“C-condoms, Trip?”
Honestly, I could have forgotten them with her. I growled again, being hasty when I reached into my pocket. I was always prepared, truth be told, and ripped into the foil of the condom that I had and slid it on my dick before I slid inside of her.
We groaned in unison. She was tight as I remembered and hot, too, so fucking warm I could have cum then and there if I hadn’t wanted to see her cum herself. But I did, and didn’t waste time holding her by her thighs and driving into her like she was mine again.
“Trip, Trip!”
I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t. I just fucked her harder until she couldn’t say my name anymore and it was just her hollering and making an echo in the alley way. Mine, mine, mine; every thrust I gave made sure of that. The bruises that I’d leave on her thighs? She’d feel them every time she walked, too. I’d have my own battle scars, with the way her nails dug so hard into my back. I could feel them through my kutte and it only made me fuck her harder.
I shoved my hand between us, touching and rubbing on that pretty swollen clit of hers as I felt her get tighter around me. She always came quick when it was like this—nasty, exhibitionist. I think she liked the idea of getting caught with me inside her as much as I did.
“Harder, harder. Trip, please!”
I obliged her, driving in until I was sure it hurt. I hurt, aching in my legs and my back and my cock and balls, but it was worth it if I got to have my Misha again like this.
“Fuck … Fuck Trip, I’m close-!”
She didn’t even need to say it, didn’t need to warn me. I felt her convulse around me right before her sweet pussy flooded around my cock. She cried out, arching against me, and clung to me hard. One pump, then another, and I was cumming fast behind her. I wished I could fill her hot like I used to, let the cum run out of her like I’d marked her.
Another time.
I held her against the wall like that, rocking my cock in her as I spent myself until I was done. I didn’t pull out though. I wasn’t ready for that just yet. I liked being snug in her. We panted together, and I rested my forehead against hers.
All too soon, the glow was over.
“You have to let me down, Trip,” she said softly. “We need to be getting back.”
Right.
This had just been quick fun.
I didn’t want to leave just yet though. As she tried to slide away from me, I leaned forward and kissed her. It was one of those deep, sweet kinds—the kind you give the woman you love, rather than the bitch you just fucked. She almost melted into it, but I was forced away when her fists pushed against my chest.
“I said we need to go, Trip. I’m done. You’ve made up.”
I couldn’t say I wasn’t bothered by it, but I couldn’t let her know I was. I scoffed and pulled away. I let her fall to her feet where she wobbled as I slipped the condom off and tossed it aside.
“Gee, thanks, Trip.”
“You look like you’re walking just fine,” I said lightly.
I watched her as she walked away before me, swaying a little but noticeably pissed off.
I supposed that’s what I got for thinking I’d win her back with my cock, in the middle of an alley.
I supposed that’s what I got for thinking and wanting at all.
Chapter Six
Misha
“It looks here like you don’t have any prior food industry experience.”
“No, ma’am, I don’t.”
“Yet you wanna try a diner as your first proper job?”
“I’m a fast learner, ma’am, and I really need the money—”
“You and every other tart-lipped, big-tittied sugar lump in this town, honey. You gotta give me more than that to go off to hire you.”
“I have references.”
The plump, middle-aged woman across from me laughed as she looked down at the abysmal résumé that I had compiled for her.
“Yes, I see that. Trixie. Child, that girl is about as bright as a box of bricks. You know that, don’t cha?”
“I’m more than willing to prove that I’m not a lost cause.”
I sat in the office of Lancaster’s, the little diner just off the highway and the place I was trying to get a job. I’d been poring over potential places in town, but with no real work experience I kept coming up bust. It had been, shockingly enough, Trixie who had seen me one day, pouring my heart out on paper applications, and told me that her job was hiring.
I was beginning to wonder if that, however, was about to prove a fruitless endeavor.
“Please, ma’am,” I said. “I really need this job.”
The woman shook her head.
“Like I said, you and every other tart-lipped little piece in town. But I’ll tell you what. You run around with them Pride boys, don’t cha? You know the big boy, Trip?”
I raised my brow.
“I might …”
“Oh, sugar plum, don’t get cute. The Pride boys are good boys around here, kept off Jackal trouble when them mean asses kept comin’ ’round, starting trouble. They tried some funny mess with my little niece, and it was the Pride—that boy Trip—set ’em right. It’s him what kept them out of here the last few years—”
“That was Trip?” The story sounded familiar. I remembered a few years back, one of Holland’s boys had gotten in deep with a girl from here, only come to find out that she wanted no
ne of it, and he’d been using her to ferry in girls for trade. It was a nasty business, but after he got busted was when Holland decided to pull back from town and stay with operations over the border. I hadn’t known that was Trip—
“Yeah, girl, that was Trip. Don’t you know nothin’? Anyway. I’d hate to turn down one of his girls after what he did. So, say you’re on preliminary for a month before I decide to keep you on.”
