HowToLoseABiker

by Unknown

  She shrugs and rolls her eyes, “I got the message when you left; I was my own problem.

  You didn't need me as extra baggage.”

  Shaking his head in self-disgust, he sits next to her, and snatches the pop from her hand.

  Taking a drink he looks her over, “I forgot this stuff tastes like medicine. Why can't you drink normal pop?”

  She flashes him the finger, she's always been touchy about her choice in pop.

  She turns to face him, “I don't see how my life is your problem.”

  “For fuck sake Sadie! Were you blind? I left because I had no business feeling what I was feeling for you!” grimacing, he remembers how hard it had been to leave, how close he'd come to claiming her.

  “If I'd stayed, I would have made you mine,” he explains.

  Right now, that doesn't seem like a bad choice. By now, they would be married and have their own family. The only problem was her age, and she'd been everything he thought himself unworthy of: sweet, funny, innocent, and so fucking beautiful. She'd driven him crazy.

  “You barely tolerated me!” She stares wide-eyed into his eyes.

  He decides to lay it all out there, “ I loved you. Leaving was the last time I did anything noble. I'm fucking done being noble with you. This time you're mine.”

  Chapter Nine

  Sadie

  No fucking way. Jackson abandoned her. Now his messed up reasoning makes it okay? No. After he left, she'd gone through hell. First, believing he was in trouble. Then, when she realized he'd decided to leave her. It tore her apart.

  They'd been together for only a few months, but in that time, he'd become her sun. She'd been ready to do anything for him, and he hadn't cared. Not even enough to say goodbye.

  Now that she's older, he wants an easy lay? No way.

  “I will have to pass on that last idea. Sorry, you aren't my type.” Liar. He's everyone's type.

  He smirks, like he knows she's lying, “We'll see. Now, get your stuff ready. You're staying at my place. Just get an overnight bag. We'll pick up the rest tomorrow.”

  He's worse than Zack, “I'm not your problem,” she says exasperated.

  “I never said you are,” he rises from the couch, “Do I have to carry you?”

  He wants to take over her life again? Maybe this is the perfect way to exorcise any residual feelings she still has for Jackson. Pay him back and use him to get rid of Zack. She can play him and then disappear, like he did to her. Oh, she has no false illusions of him developing feelings for her, but she could certainly damage his ego. That would be enough.

  There is just one huge problem; her stupid, reckless heart will probably ignore all the danger signs and fall for him, again.

  She just had to find a way to keep him at bay. Sadie smiles as she remembers Sydney's list.

  If she does the opposite, she might make him want to run in the other direction. While she manages to scare him off there will definitely be no sleeping with him. Virgins tend to imprint on their first lover, and she needs to put him out of her life. Ten days and he will be out of her life.

  But in the mean time, she will have some fun at his expense

  Chapter Ten

  Jackson

  Jackson is ready for an argument, but it doesn't come. Instead, Sadie remains silent, a faraway look in her enormous blue eyes.

  She stands and inhales deeply, “Alright, but first tell me, what will,” she motions from me to her with a finger, “this be?”

  Frowning Jackson invades her space and draws her chin up with his hand.

  Sadie still has that cute mutinous expression she used to get when things weren't going her

  way.

  “We'll live together, get to know each other again, you don't have to go back to work. I'll take care of you.”

  She snorts at that.

  “Fuck Sadie, a woman like you has no business as a stripper,” he says.

  Jackson runs his thumb over her full lower lip. For a second she leans into his hand, then abruptly, steps back.

  “I'll pack a bag,” she says before disappearing into a bedroom.

  Unsure of what to do, he calls his VP, Nick. Nick answers, music can be heard from a distance.

  He's obviously still at the compound.

  “Pres, why'd you skip out so early?” Jackson smiles, his VP is only a few years younger than himself, but he is still very caught up in the MC lifestyle. Unlike Jackson, whose priorities have changed. These past two years he's stayed away from the heavy partying and concentrated on the business side of the club. So far, Rampage MC's finances are thriving and most of their business ventures are above ground.

  “Nick, I'm taking a few days off, you're in charge. I also need you to get someone to keep an eye on Zack. One wrong move and he's done.”

  Jackson has had a gut feeling about Zack, and he's not about to ignore it any longer.

  Nick answers, “I'll get someone on him right away, the bastard slunk away quietly after that girl kicked his ass.”

  Pausing, his voice then becomes serious, “Listen bro, there's been talk of mutiny, again. Some of these stupid fuckers are having talks of overthrowing you. I just think you should watch your back.”

  Jackson chuckles darkly, “I'm surprised its taken this long. I'll keep an eye out,” he says before disconnecting.

  Rampage MC has a bloody history. They go through presidents like crazy, and they always die at the hands of their own members. He's fucking tired of dealing with his thickheaded brothers.

  Sadie comes out of her bedroom ready to go. She deserves to know what is going down with him and his club. If it comes down to a fight, she might get caught in the crossfire.

  “Before we go. I have some news from my VP. My club brothers are talking about taking me out and taking the presidency from me. If that happens, you will be with me. It's only fair you make that choice,” he says.

  She advances towards him and gives him her bag.

  “It's only fair if I'm there to save your ass when shit hits the fan,” she says with a teasing expression on her face.

  He'd been ready to fight for his presidency, but now, with Sadie back in his life, he's not so

  sure.

  Chapter Eleven

  Sadie

  Jackson and Sadie arrive at a dark house, surrounded by fields. Initially, she thought he lived at the compound, but he obviously has his own place. The home looks fit for a thriving family, not a lone bachelor. On occasion, when she allowed herself to think about Jackson, she imagined him married to a beautiful woman and with a houseful of kids. He'd been so squeak-clean back then that she would never have pictured him as a biker. Her knowledge of motorcycle gangs comes from the gang that spent a lot of time in her hometown and more recently Rampage MC. They are overwhelmingly sexist, rude, and sometimes violent. The Jackson she knew was none of those things.

  They both dismount; Jackson takes Sadie's bag and her hand, leading her up the three porch steps. On the left side of the wraparound porch, a beautiful white rocker and a side table make a cozy spot to read or just relax. A cold breeze has settled in the night and the ranch style house is far enough away from the road that everything is silent.

  Jackson opens the door and leads her inside. He flicks on all the lights as he shows her around the beautiful house.

  “I have only one bed,” he says as they walk to the bedrooms.

  “It's okay, you can sleep on the couch,” she says with a smile.

  He groans, “Okay, but tomorrow you're coming with me to take care of some club business.”

  “Okay, I can be your body guard,” she says.

  He shows her his bedroom than leaves her to settle in for the night. She quickly showers and changes into a tank top and shorts.

  Jackson is sitting on the living room couch watching TV when she finds him. He looks up and his whole face lights up with a glorious smile.

  “Sit with me for a moment,” he says.

  Sadie takes a deep breath and sit
s as far away from him as possible.

  “Tomorrow, we are going to the club house. Things might get ugly, or maybe nothing will happen. No matter what, you stay behind me. If you run into Zack, let me take care of him. Okay?” he says seriously.

  Yeah, well, there is no chance of that. If she sees Zack again, she'll probably punch him in the balls again. Or maybe she'll kick him this time. She wouldn't want to be predictable.

  “No,” she answers.

  He looks confused, “No?”

  “No,” she says again.

  “This is my problem and I don't want you to get hurt, but I also can't stand the thought of not having you with me,” he says.

  As much as she wants to argue with him, and tell him she can take care of herself, she sees that he really is worried.

  “Okay, fine,” she says.

  He leans into her and kisses her slowly. His hard mouth intense and insistent on her own mouth. She gives in and returns his kiss with more enthusiasm than she'd like. Pulling her closer, she lets him continue his kiss until she feels dizzy.

  Using the little common sense she has left, she pulls away and puts a hand against his chest to keep him from kissing her again.

  His slow and sensual kiss left her breathless, but he is having a hard time catching his breath, too.

  “Okay, go to bed sweetheart, now,” he orders raggedly.

  She almost runs to her temporary bedroom and locks herself inside. If only the door could keep her safe from Jackson.

  Chapter Twelve

  Sadie has never had the need to get drunk, until now. She is as jumpy and nervous as a turkey on Thanksgiving. Okay, so Jackson won't eat her, but he does scare the crap out of her. He probably thinks she is nervous to be around his MC.

  They have been at his clubhouse since the early afternoon, and so far, no one has tried to kill them. Jackson has been in his office dealing with all the paper work on his chaotic desk.

  That wasn't exactly what she'd expected. When a big bad biker says he has to take care of some business, you imagine him busting someone's cap or roughing someone up, not filing endless paperwork.

  “As soon as someone actually realizes how boring your job is, you'll be safe,” she says to a busy Jackson.

  He looks up and raises a brow at her.

  “I thought we were going to go kick someone's ass,” she accuses.

  He groans, “That's just a stereotype that has been unfairly pinned on us.”

  She really doesn't think so.

  “Yeah, right. You guys are a bunch of lovable bunnies under all the leather and muscles,” she says sarcastically.

  “I'm almost done, then we can take an extended home vacation,” he says with a smile.

  She gets up from the chair she has grown intimate with in the last few hours, and leaves the office to look for a bathroom.

  Only a few people idle around the clubhouse and they ignore her. She finds a bathroom but it's disgustingly dirty, so she says a prayer that she can wait and walks back to Jackson's office.

  When she passes the bar, a fight breaks out between two enormous meat-heads on the other side of the room. Finally, something biker like is going on. She sits by the bar and watches the show.

  A female bartender comes up and she orders a can of ginger ale.

  Over on the other side of the room one of the bikers headbutts buts the other biker. Ouch.

  The woman brings her the drink. She is wearing a leather vest with no shirt and skintight jeans. Sadie wants to ask where she bought her cool vest but she doesn't look particularly friendly.

  “What's that fight about?” Sadie asks.

  The mean looking woman gives her an assessing look. Sadie gives her a beaming smile.

  “Brick told Rick that he has been banging his wife for the past few weeks, again,” she says.

  “Oh, that's rough. What a bitch,” she says sympathetically.

  Brick, or Rick now has the other one on the floor in a headlock and is giving him a wedgie.

  Sadie admires dirty fighting, but wedgies should be illegal! Sadie turns to see the bartender who has gone quiet.

  The woman is blushing angrily. Her hair is the wrong shade of blonde and she looks funny with her face that purple.

  “I'm Rick's wife,” she says.

  There is a reason why Sadie never talks to strangers.

  “I'm sure he made you do it,” she adds.

  Deciding it's time to get the heck out of there, she leaps out of the stool and hurries over to Jackson's office.

  He is putting something into a duffle bag when she bursts into the room.

  “I'm all done, let's get out of here,” he says.

  “Great, and no one has even tried to kill you yet,” she says.

  ***

  They get off Jackson's motorcycle as the sun is setting in the distance. The glorious colors cast the white clapboard house in shades of red and orange. She really likes his house.

  He opens the door and once inside, he pounces. His lips are rough and demanding. She instinctively responds, running her hands up his chest until they lock around his neck.

  He pulls Sadie up, one hand on her waist, the other on her hip. Sadie wraps a leg around his hip, loving the feel of his hard body against hers. Jackson pulls away to catch his breath and Sadie whimpers at the loss.

  She is so screwed.

  Groaning, he rocks against her, holding her against the wall with his hips. He moves back and looks into her eyes. They are heavy lidded and dazed with passion. She's panting as if she just ran, and he's no better.

  With her hands on his neck, she pulls him down once more, moaning when their mouths

  meet.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Jackson

  He's drowning in her taste and warmth, he fucking loves this. Jackson's hand releases her waist and cups her cheek, coaxing her mouth to open further, accepting more of him.

  The window next to the door shatters, accompanied by popping noises.

  “Fuck! Get down!” He pulls Sadie down and runs with her to the back of the house.

  “Stay here,” he orders.

  Gun in hand, he starts to leave.

  “Wait! Don't go! They're still out there!” She sounds angry instead of scared.

  “I have to see who did this,” he explains, and then runs low.

  Fuck, if he'd turned on the light, they would have made easier targets, and Sadie or him could be dead.

  The shooting stops. One of them shouts orders and he hears them approach. Jackson fires a few shots through the shattered window. They curse and fire back. His night vision sucks, so he flicks on the porch lights.

  Peeking outside, he sees one of them on the ground, but he can't see the others. He moves into his living room and checks through the window and sees another two guys are running towards their bikes.

  They roar away on their bikes, leaving behind their wounded friend. Those assholes have no loyalty to their own brothers.

  He steps out of the house and finds the wounded guy is wearing a Rampage MC cut. He's clutching at his chest with both hands, trying to stop the bleeding. Jackson approaches him and kicks the gun away, pointing his own at the same time.

  “Who sent you?” he demands.

  “Fuck you asshole,” he laughs, “more will come, you're just as dead as me,” he starts wheezing and coughing.

  Within seconds, his eyes become lifeless.

  Sighing, he strides back in, and runs right into Sadie. She lets out a tiny squeal, and bounces back from him. He catches her by the waist before she can fall onto the broken glass scattered on the floor.

  “We have to go, is your bag still salvageable?” he asks.

  She's about to pick it up from the broken glass, and he stops her, “I'll check,” he doesn't want her cutting herself on the glass. Shaking it out, he hands it to her.

  “I'll get some stuff together, then we have to leave.” He then stalks towards his room to collect cash, a few guns, and some new IDs.
/>   “That was your club trying to kill you?” She startles him, sounding shaken, and he can't blame her.

  He brought her into his life to keep her safe, not to almost get her killed.

  “Yeah, and they'll keep trying,” he says as he collects his stuff and shoves it into a duffle bag, “the Club has always been dysfunctional, I thought as president I could change that. Instead the money I brought in made them greedy.”

  He takes out a floorboard and extracts the money he set away for emergencies. “Fuck that's a lot of money,” she looks on as he stuffs it into his bag.

  “Will I have to worry that you'll only stay with me for my money?” he asks mockingly.

  She narrows her eyes and responds in kind, “It won't be for your great personality.”

  He zips his bag, and then slings it over his shoulder. As he passes by Sadie, he slaps her on her delectable rear, “Don't play with my heart, woman.”

  She lets out an adorable little growl, then she follows him out of the house and towards his garage.

  “You have a car?” she asks.

  “Just because I'm a big bad biker dude, doesn't mean I can't have a car,” he shakes his head as if disappointed, “What did I say about stereotypes?”

  Sadie laughs, “You quoted me wrong, I never said big.”

  “No, well you left out the big, but you were thinking it,” he says.

  “Are you going to cry over your motorcycle? Isn't it special to you?” she asks.

  “I'm not that sentimental over inanimate objects,” he responds.

  He loads their bags into the back of his SUV and then opens her door, “Congrats, you can be my copilot,” he says before shutting her door after she's settled.

  Getting inside himself, he quickly fires up the truck and pulls away from the garage.

  When they turn onto the highway, she asks, “What does a copilot do?”