Big Bad Twins

by Tia Siren

  “What do you want, Jason?” Rebecca asked as she rolled her bike past her ex and opened the garage door. She parked inside and then closed the door by hand, slapping a padlock close.

  “Call me boss. If you won’t leave the club, at least respect me,” the man said, throwing one leg over his bike as he climbed off it.

  “No one else calls you boss.”

  “The girls I fuck do.”

  “We don’t fuck anymore,” Rebecca said, rolling her eyes and pulling her house key from the pocket of her tight jeans.

  “Look, I just came over to tell you that I’ve been missing you, and I think we should put this behind us and go into your bedroom.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Rebecca said, shaking her head. She unlocked her door and stepped into her modest home, turning to stand in the doorway.

  “You aren’t going to invite me in?” Jason asked.

  “No.”

  “You’re a bitch. That’s why you’ll always be alone. You run off every man who comes to you. Or in you.”

  “Fuck you, Jason,” Rebecca said, and she went to slam the door, but he called out, and what he said made her freeze.

  “Hull is back.”

  “No, he isn’t.”

  “Yeah. I hear he is, and he wants in.”

  Hull was the first man Rebecca had ever loved. His name was Christopher Hullard, but everyone just called him Hull. He had been in the Hammers since he was sixteen, and he had been fast-tracked to become leader. His own father had been the leader, but he’d been nearing retirement age, and Hull had been his last kid out of five, and his only son. Hull and Rebecca had fallen in love, and when it ended the way it had, he decided to join the Navy. He became a SEAL, and Rebecca had been sure she would never see him again. Two years after he left, his father died, and he didn’t even come back for the funeral.

  “You going to let him in?”

  “He wants my job, so fuck him,” Jason said. “Just telling you, because he probably still hates you for what you did to him. I was coming to protect you.”

  “He wouldn’t do anything to me,” Rebecca said softly, her voice fading into the dark night air.

  “War changes people,” Jason said with a shrug.

  “I’m going to bed,” Rebecca said suddenly, wanting the man to leave.

  “All right. Weasel is bringing his bike over tomorrow, told him you’d take a look at his gearshift. It’s sticking.”

  “All right,” Rebecca said, and she shut the door.

  She went and filled her tub with water so hot that steam rose from it in her cool bathroom. She disrobed and sank into the water. She was tired, but her mind was racing. She couldn’t stop thinking about Hull. She wondered if it was true, him being back in Oklahoma City. And if it was, she wondered if she would see him. She had been the one to end their relationship, after a pregnancy scare. She had been young, hadn’t wanted to go down that road, but he had seemed so ready to do so. He had been twenty, two years older. He was going to be the president of the largest motorcycle club in Oklahoma. He wanted to marry her, to be a father. It had all scared her. She had cut him off, and he had become so heartbroken that he ran to the military, risking his life every day just to be three thousand miles from her.

  Rebecca sat in the bath until the water was lukewarm, and then she stayed a bit longer until it was downright chilly. Finally, she climbed from the tub and dried off before heading to bed. As she drifted off to sleep, she thought about Hull, and she wondered if she would see him.

  2

  Rebecca didn’t have to wonder if she would see the first man she had ever loved for long. The next day she was working on Weasel’s bike. Weasel was a Hammer, a big bear of a man with a wiry white beard and long hair he kept in a simply ponytail. He was in his sixties, and he looked the part of grizzled biker. But he was a friendly guy, with a booming laugh and a warm smile, and he was one of the few Hammers who hadn’t given Rebecca shit since breaking things off with Jason.

  The big man had brought his bike over in the back of a beat up pickup truck in the morning, and then he’d spent an hour or so bullshitting with Rebecca in the garage before he left. She had promised him his bike would be ready by six, and then she had gotten to work.

  Just after noon, she realized she would need a couple of parts she didn’t have on hand, so she went inside to wash up and then headed to a local motorcycle shop. As she stood by the counter in the shop, waiting for Dave, the man who ran the place, to grab the parts she needed from the back, her stomach rumbled. She would need to grab lunch on the way home.

  Embarrassingly, her stomach was so loud that someone behind her heard it.

  “Hungry?” a male voice asked, and Rebecca turned around. Her mouth fell open. There, standing behind her, was Hull. He looked the same, but entirely different somehow too. His head was practically shaved, just had small dark dots to show he wasn’t really bald. He had always been muscular, but now he gave Jason a run for his money. He was tall, and he wore a gray T-shirt that was stretched tight across his muscular chest.

  “Hull,” Rebecca said, feeling foolish. Even as his girlfriend she had never called him anything else. No one called him anything else.

  “I should have known I’d find you here.”

  “You were looking for me?”

  Hull smiled, an easy thing, kind but sarcastic. “No. I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “Oh,” Rebecca said, feeling a burst of heat on her cheeks as she blushed. “I heard you were back.”

  “I wanted to see everyone. I think I’m going to stick around.”

  “You going to join back up?”

  “With the Hammers?”

  “Yeah,” Rebecca said, leaning back against the counter.

  “I think so,” Hull said, and he nodded. “It’s good to see you.”

  Rebecca nodded.

  “So you’re hungry. We could grab a bite to eat if you have the time.”

  “All right,” Rebecca said. “I’m working on a bike, though, so it will have to be fast.”

  “Did you ride here?”

  Of course she did. Rebecca nodded.

  “Me too, but my bike needs some work. It’s been sitting in a storage locker while I’ve been gone. We could grab something and take it back to your place if you don’t mind sharing your garage.”

  Rebecca nodded, but she couldn’t believe her ears. Hull was back, and he was talking to her like an old friend, and he wanted to come use her tools. They got the parts they needed and then rode over to a small burger place, taking a couple of greasy paper bags back to her place. She opened the garage door and they rolled the bikes out into the sun, where they ate and worked at the same time. Their conversation was easy, like two old friends touching base.

  “So what happened with the Navy?”

  Hull shrugged. He was bent over his bike, a few fries sticking out of his mouth. He chewed them and swallowed before answering. “It wasn’t what I wanted to do forever. I put in my time, felt like I should go.”

  “Back to the world of motorcycles, huh?”

  “It’s more than just that; you know it is. The club…the club my father was a big part of… I want to steer it back to the right path. Since Jason’s been running the show…I don’t know. I’ve only been back a few days, but some people aren’t happy.”

  That was a fair enough assessment. The club had always done well in the area, and they made a lot of money doing bad things, but Jason seemed to think being a boss meant he needed to entertain people. Everything was big, flashy. He brought attention down on the Hammers—attention they didn’t need.

  They spent a couple hours working on the bikes and talking. It was almost as if no time had passed at all, even though it had been five years since they’d last seen one another.

  A little after six Weasel came by, and he and Hull took a few minutes to get reacquainted. Then the fat man loaded his bike into the back of his truck and drove off.

  “Well, I guess I can ca
ll it a night,” Hull said, wiping his hands on an old rag as Rebecca pulled the garage door down and locked it. “Mind if I wash my hands?”

  “No. Come on in,” Rebecca said, leading the way. “You remember where the bathroom is?”

  She turned to look at Hull, expecting him to be heading toward the bathroom, but instead he was standing directly behind her. She went to speak, but he leaned forward, placing his hands on her hips and bending so that he could kiss her.

  She shut her eyes and parted her lips to his tongue. He explored her mouth, and he tasted like the mint gum he was almost always chewing. She wrapped her arms around him without even meaning to do it.

  The kiss broke, and Rebecca opened her eyes. The man she had once loved was looking down at her.

  “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it.”

  “It’s fine,” Rebecca said. She went to step back, but he caught her by the arms and pulled her close. They kissed again. Rebecca didn’t know what she was doing. She knew she shouldn’t be kissing the man who had joined the Navy just to get away from her, the man she had crushed, the man who had a broken heart because of her, but she couldn’t stop herself. So she did kiss him, and her hands travelled along his back as his slid up from her hips, taking her shirt with them.

  They broke their kiss long enough for her to pull the shirt over her head, and then they were kissing again, with Rebecca in only her jeans and a bra. She placed her hands on Hull’s stomach, reaching under his shirt. His abs were hard and defined. His hands were on her back, but one slid around to her chest, his fingertips brushing along her soft skin until he was at her bra. He groped her, her nipple hard and pushing against his palm. His finger hooked into the top of her bra cup and pulled it down, freeing one of her breasts, large and pale with a dark red areola.

  His fingers found her nipple, pinching and rolling it softly between his thumb and index finger. He broke the kiss next, lowering his head so that he could kiss her exposed breast, planting a series of small kisses around her nipple before finally he was done teasing her and his lips brushed against her nipple before they parted and his tongue snaked out, the tip flicking back and forth over the sensitive nub.

  Rebecca tilted her head back and groaned, her eyes shut. Her hand found the back of his head, rubbing his buzzed hair. He sucked on her nipple steadily but softly, pulling and pinching it with his teeth as his tongue worked its magic. Hull ground his hips forward so that his pelvis rubbed against hers, and the young woman felt his hard cock, trapped by his shorts, yearning to get out.

  Soon her other breast was out, her bra tugged down but still on, and his lips were there, sucking on the newly freed nipple. Rebecca bent, careful not to break Hull’s hold on her breasts, and reached down to feel his rigid member through his shorts. He responded by grinding forward again against her palm. She gripped him, flexing her thin fingers around his cock. He pulled away from her breasts, and she knelt down before she could stop herself, sitting on her knees just inside the foyer. She reached up to the man’s fly and undid his zipper. Hull helped her, unbuttoning his shorts and pushing them and his boxers down. His cock sprang forward, large and throbbing, the base disappearing in a bush of wiry pubic hair.

  Rebecca took his cock in her hand and gave it a soft squeeze, and Hull moaned. She smiled up at him, and he looked down at her.

  “Suck it,” he said, and the young, beautiful woman did just that.

  She leaned forward, parting her lips as she did so. His hard member slid past her lips. She went slowly, using her tongue to tease him, sliding it back and forth on the sensitive underside of his cock.

  Hull’s hand went to the back of her head, his fingers taking hold of her hair there. He controlled the pace, working her mouth back and forth over his cock. He pushed his hips forward when he pulled her head in, shoving the bulbous head of his dick down her throat. She gagged, but she took it.

  Hull was the one to stop the blowjob, pulling her hair so her lips slid off his penis. He pulled her up by the hair and pressed his lips to hers again.

  “Bedroom,” he breathed as the kiss ended. Rebecca nodded and turned. As they walked, they disrobed, a trail of discarded clothes leading the way from the front door to her bedroom. She stood naked at the end of her bed, turning to see the man she had once loved. He was nude too, hard and strong. He pushed her back onto the bed and then lowered his head between her legs.

  His tongue on her wet slit was ecstasy. She took hold of her sheets, her body writhing as he flicked the tip of his tongue over her engorged clit. He slid a finger into her as he licked, and then two, sliding them in and out of her. She was coming in no time, an intense wave of pleasure exploding from her groin, her juices flowing freely and coating the bottom half of Hull’s face.

  When she was done, sweaty and spent and lying back upon her bed, he positioned himself over her, his pelvis between her legs. He reached down, using one hand to guide himself into her.

  Rebecca groaned as he pushed fully into her. He was big, the biggest man she had ever been with, his cock rock hard and pulsing inside her tight pussy. Hull rocked back and forth, sliding into her until his pelvis met hers, and then he would pull out, until nothing but the tip of his cock was inside her.

  His pace was swift, his humping furious, and Rebecca knew he wouldn't last long. But still, somehow, she beat him, having another orgasm. It was just like their relationship all those years ago; he was the only man who could ever get her off more than once, usually within a span of minutes.

  She dragged her nails down his back as she came, shuddering as he continued to buck. She cried out, not a name, not to Jesus, but just a cry, a long moan as the orgasm shook her to her core.

  Then it was Hull’s turn. The man thrust deep inside her and stayed there, throwing his head back as he came, one hand holding him up over her, the other groping at one of her breasts, the nipple hard between his thumb and forefinger.

  His cock jumped inside her, once, twice, a third time, each time spraying a long line of sticky cum deep inside her pussy. With a groan, he pulled out of her when he was finished and rolled onto his back on the bed beside her.

  “Wow,” he said.

  “Yeah,” Rebecca said.

  “Oh crap. I should have used a condom,” Hull said.

  “I’m on the pill.”

  Hull leaned up on one arm and looked at her. “You have a boyfriend?”

  “Not anymore,” she said.

  “Perfect,” Hull said with a grin.

  She looked at him, propping herself up on her own elbow, the mirror image of him. “Why is that perfect?”

  “We can get started again and I don’t have to kick anyone’s ass.”

  Rebecca sighed and shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

  “What? We just fucked.”

  “Yeah, and that’s that. We fucked. It doesn’t mean anything.”

  “I see,” Hull said, and he climbed out of her bed and went down the hall to the front door, pulling on his clothes as he did so. He didn’t say anything, and neither did Rebecca. When he got to the front door, he opened it and stepped out. She didn’t try to stop him. The door slammed shut, and a minute later his bike roared to life. She listened to it as the sound faded, and then she knew he was gone. Rebecca didn’t know why exactly, but she started to cry.

  3

  Days passed since Rebecca and Hull had had sex, and Rebecca’s mood didn’t improve. She didn’t know why she was so against dating the man again. She had loved him once, and she was sure she still loved him. But…she had hurt him…and she was scared. She didn’t know why; she didn’t know of what. She just knew she was scared. She had been scared by how easily Hull had taken to the idea of being a father. It had sent her running, which in turn had sent him running. Apparently she was still scared.

  Besides Weasel, the only other friend she still had in the Hammers was Gloria, an older woman in her fifties. She was a true blue biker chick, all blue jeans and black leather. Her hair was white, but she dyed i
t blond, and it sat on her head in a big way, poufy and in a style that hadn’t been seen in most places since the seventies. She always wore too much makeup, and she was loud and always ready for a fight. Rebecca loved spending time with her.

  On a Saturday they got together to ride, heading into the country, whipping past barns and farmhouse that were nothing but a blur as they sped by on their Harleys.

  They ended up in a little country bar called Hank’s. No one in the Hammer’s frequented it, so it was a nice getaway for Rebecca since the bars closer to home were full of other Hammers, most of who made her feel uncomfortable and unwanted since she had broken up with Jason.

  Rebecca parked her bike next to Gloria’s and then followed the older woman into the bar. It was early afternoon, and there were just a few people at the bar and another three, all biker women, at one table in the corner. The women wore their colors, their black vests bearing a black rose. That was their name, the Black Roses, and Rebecca knew they were a club for women only. They also had a reputation for being a bunch of hotheads who caused trouble wherever they went.

  Rebecca felt eyes on her and her friend as they sat at the bar. An old fat man with a bad comb-over took their order and set two beers in front of them. Rebecca had only taken two swigs by the time one of the Roses was at her side.

  “Don’t see many Hammers up here,” the woman said as Rebecca looked at her. She was younger than Gloria but older than Rebecca. She had bright red hair and a face full of freckles.

  “Don’t see many women as ugly as you,” Gloria said, leaning over her friend. Rebecca sighed and closed her eyes. She knew there was going to be a problem. That was who Gloria was.

  “You’re in our neck of the woods,” the red-haired woman said. She had her name sewn into her vest. It said Red.

  Gloria snorted. “Red, huh? They give you all imaginative nicknames out here.”

  “My daddy called me Red his whole life,” the woman with the flaming red hair said. “You talking bad about my daddy?”