by Krane, Kasey
Which was all the invitation he needed. He swiftly flicked the button open and pulled down my zipper to reveal a semi-decent pair of black cotton panties. At least I wasn’t wearing my white granny panties but if I had known that today would end this way, certainly I could’ve come up with a bit of lace to wear instead.
Oh well – I would just have to pull out the lace later. Something to look forward to, right?
I lifted my hips as he pulled my jeans and panties down, shimmying them off and onto the ground.
A low, unintelligible growl filled the room and Knight leaned forward and began to kiss his way up from my knee to my thigh to my hip to my belly button and then he was pulling off my shirt, leaving only my lacy black bra behind. At least I had managed to wear a sexy one of those today. Without hesitation, he palmed my breasts through the bra, running his thumb over the pebbled tits, and electrical shocks ran through my body at every swipe of his thumb.
I groaned as pure pleasure rocked through my body, and I felt my back begin to arch as an orgasm ran through my body.
“Oh yes God, please…” I couldn’t seem to breathe but it didn’t matter. All I wanted was him – in that moment, he was my whole world.
He slid his hands underneath me, expertly undoing the clasp on my bra, pulling it off my shoulders, setting my breasts free. He reached up and cupped a tit in each hand, rolling them, massaging them, pulling them closer and as he moved to lay over me, covering my body with his, he took one of my nipples into his mouth. He rolled it around on his tongue, sucking and nibbling, pulling ever so slightly on it.
My back arched off the bed again and a groan emanated from deep inside of me. I always had sensitive nipples and the few times I had messed around with boys, I had been able to come just from them playing with my breasts. But this was new – this was something I had never experienced before.
“Oh God, oh God, oh God…” I cried as the fissures of an orgasm spread through my body, my hips bucking wildly. As the orgasm finally dissipated, I settled back down into the mattress and opened up my eyes slowly, fluttering, trying to get them to work right.
But all of that effort was for nothing because I quickly closed my eyes again as pleasure shot through me as he worked his way over my body, nibbling and licking and kissing every curve I had and some I didn’t even know about. Who knew that the inside of my elbow would be so sensitive? And the back of my knees – oh God!
When he reached my core, my world exploded again. A cry tore out of me and my hips began seizing and bucking with pleasure.
Finally, Knight rolled off me, leaving me dazed and confused and happier than I had ever been in my life. Where was he going?
“I’ll be right back,” he promised and headed over to the corner of the room and into his bags. When he returned, he was suited up in a condom.
Oh. Right. God, I’m glad someone’s thinking. Dammit, I can’t believe that didn’t occur to me!
He pulled me up into the middle of the bed and then, hovering over me, whispered quietly, “Leia, you are so goddamn beautiful. I hope you realize just how gorgeous you are.” And then drove himself forward.
“You sure about this?” he asked me gruffly.
“Knight, I chose you. I chose you on purpose. This wasn’t an accident; this wasn’t impulsive. Well, maybe a little impulsive. But Knight, I’ve wanted this since that first day in the diner in El Paso. Watching you walk away that day – it hurt more than I realized it could hurt. It shouldn’t have hurt that much – I didn't know you. How could it hurt? But somehow, meeting you, it was…perfect. I hated watching you walk away.
“I’ve loved getting to know you since then.
“But Knight, I chose you and for some bizarre reason, you chose me back. And I…I still want this.”
I reached my hand out and stroked up his arm, over his bulging muscles and up to his face where I cupped his cheek in my hand and turned his face towards mine.
“Please,” I whispered and Knight broke and rolled over on top of me, pinning me down into the mattress. His hands buried themselves in my hair and he began kissing his way across my cheek, to my ear, and down my neck, to my sensitive collarbone and I felt his cock digging into me and I knew – I knew that I was finally going to get what I wanted.
Knight. I was finally going to have Knight.
I began lifting my hips to meet his every thrust and he began pounding harder, groaning with every thrust of his hips. It felt amazing - like every molecule in my being was alive and flaming sparks were shooting through me and I just had no idea sex could be like this.
It began at the very center of me, growing stronger as it pushed out in waves.
“Oh,” I gasped. “Yes…I…” And then I was coming again - gloriously, wonderfully, amazingly coming.
Knight matched my orgasm with a shout of his own, his face straining, his eyes closed as his back arched away from me and we were suspended there for a moment that felt like years, each wrapped up in our own desires.
Slowly, so slowly, we drifted back down to earth and I opened my eyes when I felt Knight roll off me.
I lay back next to him, panting, and stared up at the ceiling. Dammit, we were both staring up at the ceiling again and I realized that this was just the same position we had taken before.
At least this time, I was so overwhelmed I couldn’t even obsess about the popcorn ceiling.
It was just about then that I began to wonder how this part worked. Did we just roll over and stare at opposite sides of the room and go to sleep? I already felt needy by kissing him first. By begging him to fuck me when he had pulled away. I just didn’t know if I was brave enough to ask him to hold me close afterwards. For once, he needed to make the first move.
Which is just when he rolled over and then he pulled me to him, snuggling me in the crook of his arm, burying his face in my hair. I felt almost more loved then than I had just minutes before. To have him hold me close like this, to protect me from the world…It gave me a sense of security and peace I had never known before.
I snuggled up against him, and with a sigh, happily went to sleep.
15
Leia
It was over the next couple of days that I began to see the part of Knight's life that he rarely showed to anyone. I read journal entries out loud to him and he listened intently to my every word, listening as I dissected some passages. I felt like I was beginning to get to know him, but it wasn’t until the day that he told me that he needed to go check on Mary, Bishop’s mom, that I really started to get to know him.
“You’re friends with Bishop’s mother?” I asked, surprised.
“She’s my mother, too,” Knight said, simply. “When I moved to Deming, the Miller’s took me in and became my family. Now that Bishop is running the Dead Legion, he doesn’t have as much time to take care of his mom as he used to. I’ve been trying to help out more, and I need to mow her lawn. It’s getting out of control.”
I grinned up at him happily, not sure if he even realized how easily words were coming to him now. Every day, he was a little bit more open - a little bit more talkative. It was like watching a turtle slowly, ever so slowly stick its head out of its shell. “I’d love to meet her.”
“Let’s do it now before it's too hot. We’re finally getting into September but you gotta know, it won’t really start to cool off until December.”
“I have no idea how you guys put up with this kind of heat all the time,” I said, groaning. What I wouldn’t give for the cool breezes and pine trees of Albuquerque!
Knight simply shrugged. “I was born and raised here. Fuck snow. Plus, you can’t ride a Harley in the snow.”
I laughed at the idea of putting studded snow tires on his Harley, but as I was laughing, I started worrying too. Knight had no intentions of ever leaving Deming, and I couldn’t ask him to. His family, his club, his job…his life was here.
But…could I live in Deming? Could I handle the heat of the hot sun day in and day out? The idea was app
alling. I hated the heat - always had. Moving smacked into the middle of one of the hottest places in America seemed pretty stupid to me.
But to lose Knight…
Well, I just wouldn’t think about it. At least not right now. It was too soon to worry about that kind of thing. If things got serious, then I could worry.
He came out of the master bedroom with a thick, black vest in his hands.
“What’s that?” I asked suspiciously. I had watched enough TV to know what it was, but still…
He couldn’t expect me to wear that. Not outside. Not in blistering heat that I hated even without a yet another layer of clothing on.
“Leia, these guys are serious. You know that. They didn’t stop by the city park to give you flowers and wish you well. I have to protect you.”
“But!” I sputtered, unsure of how to fight his logic but wanting to do so anyway. “But…it’s so hot outside, Knight! It’s supposed to get up to 115 degrees this afternoon. I can’t wear a bullet-proof vest on top of it all!”
“And I can’t let you die.”
We glared at each other, at a stalemate, and I hated that, because I knew Knight was just trying to protect me and help me and instead of being grateful, I was balking at it; but hadn’t he seen a thermometer lately? I might survive a Sangre shooting at me but not the heat stroke I would get in the meantime.
Knight began undoing the Velcro straps on the side that held the vest in place, ignoring my refusal to put it on. I put my hands on my hips, glaring at him. How dare he ignore me! He couldn’t just force me into a bulletproof vest without my consent, dammit.
But he played his trump card - he held the vest up to me and said, “Please?” and anger melted away at his gorgeous brown eyes, liquid and begging and worried for me.
Goddammit, I can’t say no to him when he begs like that…
“Finnnneeee…” I groaned, and let him dress me like a giant Barbie doll, pulling and tugging and strapping until I was wrapped up in the vest. I was already hot and we were inside in the air-conditioned house. But I bit my tongue and didn’t whine when we headed outside. Well, at least not a lot. I would admit to some grumbling under my breath.
We rode to Mary’s house, weaving our way through the brown streets of Deming, the baking heat of the desert sun causing heat waves to dance above the black pavement in undulating waves. The warehouses and businesses gave way to small, pre-WWII houses, tightly packed on each side of the ever-narrowing road. Finally, Knight pulled up in front of a charming cottage, an arched doorway with climbing roses completing the picture. Knight shut the engine off and in the sudden quiet; I could hear a dog barking up the street. It was all so tranquil.
“I should warn you,” Knight said as we locked the helmets up on the Harley. “Mary got in a wreck couple of years ago, riding bitch with her husband, James. He was the head of the Dead Legion but he—”
“Hi, Knight!” a woman’s voice called out, interrupting him. We turned to see a woman standing in the shadow of the open front door. “Are you here to mow my lawn for me?”
We headed up the sidewalk to the house, Knight passing by Mary first and kissing her on the cheek as he went. I tried to hide the surprise when I saw that — did big old badass bikers kiss women on the cheek? Apparently, big old badass bikers named ‘Knight’ did.
“I’m Mary Miller,” Mary said to me, holding out her hand in welcome. It was the wrong hand to shake with - her left hand - but it wasn’t until my eyes adjusted to the dim interior lighting that I realized why. Her right arm was scarred and withered, held at a weird angle from her body.
Without missing a beat, I took the hand offered to me and squeezed it tightly. “I’m so glad to meet you. Knight here has told me all about you.”
“Knight? My Knight has been talking? What magic potion did you sprinkle over him?”
“Yeah, well, I occasionally can get a word or two out of him,” I said with a grin, liking Mary immediately. I glanced around to wink at Knight, and realized he’d disappeared out the back door. Dammit, that took all the fun away of teasing him.
“Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Leia.”
Mary gave me an assessing look just as the lawnmower roared to life outside. Knight had apparently decided that listening to us was beneath his dignity.
“Let’s get you out of that vest. Is Knight smothering you with concern? I heard that two Sangre got away - is he worried about them coming after you?” While she peppered me with questions, she was busy unstrapping all of the vest’s straps, until she was able to lift the dreadful thing off me. Grateful for the removal of the weight and the heat, I took a deep, satisfying breath, opened my mouth to respond to Mary’s questions, and then Mary started in again. “Come, let’s go into the kitchen. I was just about to start baking some muffins. Do you like lemon blueberry muffins with strudel on top?”
We walked into a cheerful, lemony kitchen, white cupboards with trim in every conceivable spot, and a tiny island in the middle. It was small but functional, and Mary bustled around it with an efficiency that comes from long use.
“Those are my favorites!” I answered with a smile, happy to finally be able to get a word in edgewise. Which, if I was going to be honest, I would’ve said that about almost any kind of muffin that Mary had named. Muffins of any kind were my favorite, and I had the hips to prove it.
Mary pulled a stool out of a closet and set it next to the bar. “Here, sit here and talk to me while I bake.” She pulled an apron out and tied it around her before I could open up my mouth to offer to help. As I watched Mary in action, I realized that maybe the woman had a gimp arm, but she’d managed to learn how to thrive despite it. I decided that acting like the infirmity didn’t exist was the best policy to adopt, and so I sat on the barstool and watched Mary get to work.
“Knight didn’t have the best of childhoods,” Mary said mildly, apropos of nothing. The comment threw me for a moment but as I watched Mary, I realized that this was a test. What had Knight told me? How much did he trust me? Mary was sending out feelers to find out.
But, what had he told Mary? I didn’t want to reveal information to her that he didn’t want revealed. He was so damn private; I couldn’t break his trust.
So, I hedged my bets and gave a short answer. “No, he didn’t. He told me he left home when he was 16 but he never told me how he met up with the Dead Legion.”
Something shifted on Mary’s face and she paused for a moment to wipe at her eyes.
“Sorry — not used to this. You’re the first girl Knight has ever brought home.” She sifted the flour into the bowl with sure, practiced movements. “What did he tell you about his childhood?” She had quit trying to probe for what I knew in a roundabout way and had gone for blunt instead.
I took a deep breath and decided that if Knight considered Mary to be his mom, then I should trust her too.
“That he’s stuttered since he was a child, and his stepdad made him believe that only stupid people stuttered. That he never had therapy for his stutter because his stepfather said he was too stupid to be taught. That he’s incredibly smart at math, but no one seems to have noticed that part, and sure as hell not his so-called parents.” I felt the anger build up in me again at the idea that someone could possibly look at Knight, talk to him, and think of him that way. My words spilled out in a rush, the anger propelling me along. “Oh, and those parents? Drug users. Real winners, there.” I spat the last words out.
“Knight is good at math?” Mary said, surprised, and her delighted tone was such a counterpoint to my anger that a burst of laughter spilled out of me, a sharp counterpoint to the anger I had felt boiling in in veins just moments before.
“Yeah. Stupidly good at it. You should have him calculate a bill at a restaurant sometime. He can do it - tax and tip included.”
“Wow, that’s amazing. How did I not know that?” She sounded just a little upset at herself, as if she should’ve been able to divine all of Knight’s talents by magic.
“I can’t imagine he’s had a lot of chances to do math as a Dead Legion,” I said drily, and Mary grinned at that.
“No, it’s been more his muscles and mechanical skills that have been called upon here,” she agreed. “But, more importantly: He told you that he stuttered?” The amazement was back in her voice.
“Oh God, no,” I said. “That would’ve been pretty crazy leap of faith on his behalf. More like, I just guessed right. If you listen to him long enough, you hear it. Or at least, I did.”
“Knight’s stuttering is the Dead Legion’s worst-kept secret. James, my husband, had picked up on it right away. He had a brother who stuttered.”
“Wow. Yeah, for me, it was a friend. High school. Same coping mechanisms as Knight.”
Mary grinned at me. “I would’ve loved to have been a fly on the wall when that topic came up. I bet Knight took that real well.”
“Yeah. Awesome. It was a…rough discussion. I don’t think I was his favorite person there for a minute.”
“You’re braver than us. We decided to let him tell us when he wanted to. He never has. He probably thinks we have no idea.”
Mary and I smiled at each other, a bond forged between us - a love for Knight and all he’d had to overcome. Mary slid the muffins into the oven and set a timer just as the lawnmower shut off outside.
“Okay, we have about 30 minutes for him to finish weed eating the edges before he comes in. Why don’t we sit and I can tell you the story of Knight becoming a Dead Legion.” The sunlight streamed through the southern facing windows set Mary’s gray hair ablaze, the glow giving her an ethereal quality. We moved into the living room, me choosing the loveseat while Mary sat in a well-worn recliner.
“I’d love to learn whatever I can about Knight - to understand him better,” I said gratefully.
