Outlaw: Screaming Eagles MC

by Kara Parker

  She was startled and taken aback, but she didn’t fight him. He kissed her deeply, burying his other hand in the loose hair of her head as pulled her closer to him. He slipped his tongue into her mouth and he felt his erection grow as her tongue met and mingled with his. He squeezed her ass again and pulled her body so it was flush against his. Her hand came up and wrapped around his neck and she began to kiss him fiercely, sliding her tongue against his and biting on his lower lip.

  She pulled away from him and gasped for breath, but Falcon wanted more. He pulled her to him again, this time his hand moved up and he took her breast and cupped in roughly in his hand and she moaned into him and pushed herself harder against him. They were kissing and struggling with and against each other as they fought for control, clutching and grabbing at the other’s neck and arms and back.

  He pushed her back step by step until she was pushed against the interrogation table. He lifted her up easily and sat her down on the table, positioning himself between her legs. His hand was still wrapped in her hair he moved her head to the side and began nibble and kiss and lick her neck as she squeezed him with her legs and whispered the word yes. Her hands were grabbing his ass, squeezing him hard every time he licked the sensitive skin at the nape of her neck

  “Unbutton your shirt,” he whispered in her ear as he continued to ravage her neck. He could feel her fingers as they undid the top few buttons and then the shirt was pulled over her head and tossed onto the floor. She had a simple white bra on and Falcon couldn’t help but lean down and bite and suck at her nipple through the fabric.

  He heard Grace gasp and she ran her fingers through his hair and then she reached down and tugged on the bottom of his t-shirt, pulling it off of him and over his head and throwing it to the side. He came up and kissed her deeply again, as her hand wrapped around his neck and she pulled him close. And then her hand was moving down and she was massaging the bulge in front of his pants.

  Falcon had to stop as the sensation of her hand on his cock made him shudder with pleasure. Her hands were running up and down his bulge, taking their time as she focused on the head of his penis. But there was too much fabric in the way and it was infuriating. She continued to move her hand as she kicked off her shoes and Falcon slipped out of his boots and his hands were on his belt buckle and his pants were around his ankle in seconds. His erection was pushing forward, stretching the material of his boxer shorts. He wanted her and he had to have her.

  “Take your bra off,” he ordered in a tense whisper and she stared at him as she complied.

  Looking him right in the eye she reached around her back and undid the snaps, slowing letting the bra slide down off her shoulders and then onto the floor. Her lithe and strong body was exposed to him and it was just as beautiful as he imagined.

  “Lie down,” he said.

  “No,” she countered and then to his surprise she stood up off the table. Falcon’s heart started to race was she really going to end this now when he was so close? “You lie down on the table,” she said with a wicked grin as her hands pulled the waistband of his boxers down and off him.

  Falcon stood and watched as Grace undid the button on her pants and then slid them down past her knees exposing the black thong she was wearing underneath. She slipped it off next as Falcon looked at her, his cock fully erect.

  She walked towards him and he took a breast in each of his hands and massaged them. He let his finger stroke her nipples under they were firm and pert under his attentions before he pinched them and she gasped out loud. She put a hand on his firm chest and he sat back on the table and then lied down.

  She pulled a condom from the pocket of her pants and, looking him in the eye, she unrolled it over his rock-hard member. The sensation of her touch on his cock was more than Falcon could handle and he groaned loudly and his head fell back as her fingers took their time securing the condom.

  “Come here,” he said, “I want to fuck you.” She climbed onto the table and straddled him. Taking his cock in her hand she lowered herself down and onto him until his cock was buried deep inside of her.

  Falcon reached up and massaged her breasts as he focused on how tight and wet she felt as he began to slide in and out of her. And then she began to move and it felt so good Falcon was sure his head was going to explode. Slowly she began moving herself up and down rocking against his cock and the sensation made Falcon throw his head back as he gave out a moan of pleasure.

  He locked his hands around her hips and began to guide her, pushing her to go faster and harder. He dug his hands into his hips as he looked up at her. Her hands were resting on his chest and as she moved up and down and her hair was falling over her shoulders and her breasts were right above him. She looked like a goddess that had come to earth to have a dalliance with a mere mortal.

  “Oh God, Falcon, yes!” she cried out as she moved harder and faster on top of him. She moaned loudly with each thrust and the sound of her voice was pushing Falcon closer and closer to the edge.

  He held himself back, waiting on the edge of pleasure for her finish. It was a beautiful torture, her breasts bouncing above him, her hair all around him, her hands pressed into his chest and she was moaning and crying out his name.

  “Oh. Falcon. Please. That feels so good. Yes.” She was babbling between moans and he could tell she was close. He whispered her name as she continued to push herself up and down on his cock and he wasn’t sure how much more he could take.

  Then she let out a loud gasp and a yell and he felt her contract all around him and it pushed him over the edge and he called out her name as he dug his hands into her hips and his orgasm exploded around him.

  After it was all over she had fallen on top of him. He was still buried inside of her and he never wanted to move. Her ran his hands up and down her soft and supple back and felt the rhythm of her heartbeat.

  After a few moments she moaned and brought her head up from his chest and blinked as she looked around the room. “Shit,” she whispered as she pulled herself off of him.

  He felt the loss of her and remained on the table as she hurried about the room getting dressed.

  “Listen-” she started.

  “Let me guess,” Falcon interrupted. He sat up and removed the condom, throwing into a wastebasket. “This never happened?”

  “Exactly” she responded as she hurriedly buttoned up her shirt. “And this doesn’t change anything. It was sex, that’s all. I was just on a high from such a major bust, but it doesn’t change anything and it’s never happening again.”

  “Come on, Grace,” Falcon said as he stood and pulled his pants on. “Never say never.”

  Chapter Six

  Just act like everything is normal, Falcon said to himself. But it was hard; he was aware of everything he was doing. He was conscious of his footfalls and his gait, he was aware of the way his arms swung as he walked, was this normal? He suddenly couldn’t remember. And his mind kept wandering back to a few hours before, when Detective Grace Santiago had been on top of him crying out in pleasure while his hands were entwined in her hair.

  He shook his head to clear the memory. The truth was, he couldn’t act normally, no matter how hard he tried. He had just been arrested and screwed a cop on an interrogation table; normal was officially off the table. But he had to pretend. If any of the Screaming Eagles found out he had turned on them, well, there weren’t really words for what they would do to him. He knew it would be painful and endless and that was more than enough. So even though it felt impossible, Falcon forced himself to pretend as if the last six hours had never occurred.

  After their jaunt in the interrogation room Detective Santiago had pulled Falcon out of the room and given him her cellphone number. He was only supposed to call her in case of emergencies. She reminded him again that she would be the one making the calls, and she would be the one giving him orders, not the other way around. Grace then pawned him off to some plainclothes rookie who gave him his bike back from lock-up and Falcon t
hen headed straight for the club.

  Taking a deep breath Falcon remembered everything that depended on this. His freedom and his future with Sophie were on the line. He needed to do this for her. He pulled up his phone and there, on his home screen, was Sophie, smiling up at her dad. Do it for her. He steadied himself, took a deep breath, and pushed the door open.

  At first he was hit with a wall of noise. The clubhouse was alive and active, like an anthill that had just been hit with a hose. Screaming Eagles members and groupies filled the clubhouse and it was loud as music played and they all tried to talk over each other. The clubhouse smelled like cheap beer, cigarette smoke, and weed smoke, with a nasty undercurrent of that terrible, chemical meth smell. In a corner he could see a gaggle of biker girls slumped over patched-up, cheap looking couches a pipe passing from shaky hand to shaky hand.

  And then everything stopped. There was no more noise as every head in the clubhouse turned to face Falcon as the door swung closed behind him.

  “Holy shit, Falcon?” It was Billy. He stood up from the stool and took a step towards Falcon and as he walked he unbuckled his gun from his holster. He didn’t actually take it out, but he didn’t need to. It was a gesture and a signal and at the same time every other biker in the clubhouse found their gun and repeated the movement. “We thought you got picked up. Where you been, man?” There was a menace to Billy’s tone of voice, a threat everyone could hear.

  “I had a cop on my tail, took me a while to lose ‘em.” Falcon said, focusing on sounding relaxed and nonchalant as he walked towards the bar. He looked at Billy and then made eye contact with as many bikers as he could. He gave them all a crooked smile and a shrug and he felt the rest of the room relax a little. “I tell you, man, I wish you guys had been there. We went back through the woods and onto the highway. It took me fucking miles to get rid of the cop. He rode good for a fat pig.”

  There were chuckles around the room as men took their hands off their guns and put them back around their drinks.

  “They pick anybody up?” Falcon asked. He had made his way to the bar where a beer and a shot were presented to him. He reached for the shot and prayed his hand would stay steady as he lifted it to his mouth. He poured the shot down his throat and followed it with a swig of the beer. He leaned against the bar and smiled at the bikers on either side of him, he was starting to feel more relaxed; it was easier than he thought to pretend.

  “They got Eric in the truck, he tried to run, but they caught him in the forest. He’s got a lawyer and he’s clammed up like a good boy. He’s a real Screaming Eagle that one, taking the fall so the rest of us can live free,” Billy said, his hand still near his gun. “The only person missing this whole time was you...”

  Falcon shrugged again. In his mind at that moment he believed his story, he had run from the cops and spent the rest of the day running, only appearing when the coast was clear. He had not been arrested; he had not had crazy sex with a hot detective on an interrogation table. “They got Eric? Fuck. That’s sucks, man. We got protection for him on the inside?”

  “A little, but it depends where they send him,” Billy said.

  A door marked private in the back of the clubhouse slammed open as a giant of a man came marching out into the bar. If the room had been quiet before, it was deadly silent now. That was Big Chris coming out of the back room; he was the boss's personal heavy and you did not fuck with Big Chris. “Falcon,” he said, his deep, baritone voice easily carrying over the large, silent clubhouse. “Boss wants to see you, now.”

  “Yup,” Falcon said with a nod. He drained his beer and with a shrug at Billy he turned and walked casually back to the boss’s office. He walked through the door and looked around and the inner sanctum of the ruler of the Screaming Eagles. The office was smaller than Falcon would have thought; it was a square, windowless room that was dominated by a huge wooden desk. Falcon had heard the story of that desk: it had belonged to his great-grandfather who had been a judge and the desk had passed from father to son until it finally found a home in the Screaming Eagles’ clubhouse. From judge to biker, it was quite the downhill ride for that giant oak desk.

  They called him Boss because his actual name was Ernie. Ernie wasn’t exactly a name that conjured up fear in the hearts and minds of men. But as the boss liked to tell it, Ernie was a family name. It was the name of the desk’s original owner and the boss didn’t care if you called him Ernie, but everyone called him Boss anyway as a form of respect.

  The top of the desk was spotless and the boss was sitting behind it, his elbows resting on the smooth wooden surface and his hands pressed together in front of his face almost as if he were in prayer. But he wasn't praying; he was thinking. As Falcon entered the room, Big Chris followed him and closed the door behind him, isolating the trio. Falcon noticed the smallness of the room, the lack of ventilation and the cigarette smell off of Big Chris.

  “Where you been, Falcon?” His eyes remained on his hands and he asked the question in a dull and flat voice, as if the answer didn’t really interest him. Ernie was an older man, but he still looked intimidating. He was tall and strong with dark hair and dark eyes. His arms were covered in tattoos and two black teardrops were tattooed under his left eye. He had a scar that ran along his right cheek and it moved when he smiled or frowned.

  “The pigs gave chase,” Falcon said. He focused on imagining his pretend story; his life and his life with Sophia depended on him making this work. “I grabbed my bike and made a path through the leaves, avoiding the bear traps and then I turned down one of the forest paths. It was the one that leads to the freeway. This cop followed me, I don’t really remember what he looked like, and I could only catch glimpses of him behind the trees. He was decent on the bike, stayed with me through the winding path,” Falcon envisioned the chase in his mind as he invented it. A male cop chasing him, but always a few feet behind with Falcon staying just in front of him. “And then I made it to the highway, but so did the cop. I knew I needed to get off the freeway as fast as I could, so I passed two exits and let him catch up with me. Then, when the next exit came, I made a hard right, cutting off about three cars, but I made the exit and lost him. From there I was just racing through street roads, trying to figure out if the LAPD had an APB out on me. I rode all day. I’m tired as hell.”

  “On which exit did you lose the cop?” The boss asked.

  “Exit four oh three,” Falcon answered. “You know, the one by the sharp turn in the road?”

  “And then you were on street roads?”

  “Yep, I can’t remember the exact ones. I was just driving, trying to create distance.”

  The boss said nothing. He just sat and stared at his hands, and then he looked up into Falcon’s eyes. He didn’t speak or change his expression at all; he just stared at the other man. Falcon held his gaze, unsure of what else to do. At that moment the story he had crafted was the truth. He could see the fiction in his own mind and it was as true as anything that had ever happened.

  Seconds ticked by until they turned into minutes and still the boss said nothing and just stared at Falcon and Falcon stared back. He knew this was a power play and he knew the most patient would be the winner.

  Suddenly the boss gave a nod to Big Chris and without a warning Big Chris grabbed Falcon by the back of his neck and slammed his face down on to the boss’s pristine desk.

  “Are you lying to me, Falcon?” There was anger in his voice.

  “No! I’m not lying, I swear it!” Falcon said, he struggled against Big Chris but it was useless, the larger man’s hand clamped around the back of his neck, was holding him down. There was no way for him to get loose.

  “Have you turned snitch for the cops?”

  “What! No, I would never turn rat. I would die first, Boss. I swear it.”

  “I think you’re lying,” the boss sneered, standing up and walking over to where Falcon was trapped. “I think you’re lying. I think you’re weak, I think the cops brought you back the s
tation and you cut a deal and now you’re back to rat on your fellow members. I think you’re a filthy traitor and do you know what we do with filthy traitors?”

  “I didn’t, I swear it! Check me for a wire, there’s nothing!” Suddenly Falcon was lifted to his feet as Big Chris grabbed his shirt and pulled it over his head and then he was slammed down onto the table again.

  “You don’t need to wear a wire to be a snitch,” the boss hissed.

  “No, but it certainly fucking helps,” Falcon yelled back. “I’m not a snitch. I don’t know how to prove it to you, but I’m not. I swear on my father’s grave.”

  “Your father was a son-of-a-bitch bastard. I was there when you spit on his grave, swear on something real. Swear it on your daughter’s life.”

  “Leave her out of this!” Falcon yelled.

  “Swear it on her life. The life of your little innocent daughter and know this, Falcon, if you have betrayed me, her life is forfeit.”