Outlaw Kind of Love

by Nicole Snow

  “You really want to spend some time with Jack, don't you?”

  I started to sweat. Jesus, that sly smile on her face told me she knew everything.

  “I...I just wanted to thank him. Can't imagine where I'd be if he hadn't pulled me away from the other MC.” Actually, I could imagine it, and that made me want to thank him even more. “At least everyone else appreciates him around here too.”

  “You know, I've been meaning to pat him on the back myself. Let's go tell him in person. Come on.” She stood and stepped forward, leading me on by the hand.

  Frannie wasn't going to let me say no. Part of me thanked her persistence, and the other half coiled into an immature girl scared to death of coming face to face with the man she was crushing on.

  We were halfway through the crowd when Frannie came to a dead stop.

  “Wait, wait, wait. Maybe we should do this later, Rachel. He's got a lot going on right now...” The weird edge in her voice caught me by surprise.

  Huh? Why the sudden change of heart?

  I forced myself through the tight space between her and a big guy at the nearest table. Jack sat at the bar, completely surrounded by laughing bikers. He had the blonde whore on his lap, that slut they called Michelle.

  She looked up from cooing in his ear and saw me. Her tongue poked out her gaudy red lips, teasing his earlobe.

  Jack leaned back in rapture. His eyes opened, and he wore a shit-eating smile when his head rolled in my direction.

  Time seemed to stop. Sound disappeared. His eyes went wide, swallowing me whole.

  My heart pounded. The look on Jack's face switched from bliss to revulsion. A second later, Michelle looked pissed and disgusted as all hell as he stuck out his big hands, pawing her off him.

  “Rachel! Rach, hey, wait. I need to talk to you...” I heard him say, his words faint and distorted over all the noise.

  I wasn't doing anything consciously anymore. My feet turned, leading me back through the crowd, straight to a frustrated looking Frannie.

  Breaking through the crowd, I knew he was coming after me, so I moved that much faster to the spare room they'd given me.

  “What the fuck!” Jack shouted.

  Frannie must've stopped him with a stern hand on his chest, but I wasn't looking over my shoulder to see.

  “You just couldn't keep your hands to yourself for an hour or two, could ya?” I heard her say.

  Next thing I knew, I was running straight to my room. I turned once to slam the door, and then again to crash down on the bed.

  I buried myself there and cried myself to sleep.

  “Hey, baby girl. Wake up.”

  In my dreams, I forgot about the agony of seeing him with that trashy whore. His words made me happy. I glowed, wishing he'd say something else.

  Then I felt his hands shaking me gently by the shoulders. The happiness faded as I opened my eyes and realized it wasn't a dream.

  I rolled over. Jack was sitting right next to me, that devilishly shy smile on his rugged face.

  Raw emotion ripped through me. I wanted to be in his arms, but I also wanted him the hell out of my room after witnessing what he'd done.

  “Go away,” I sputtered.

  “Not gonna happen. I need to know we're alright, Rach. I had a little too much to drink...never should've let that fucking slut on my lap. I regret it, even if upsetting you wasn't in the equation.”

  He sounded sincere. That bound the knots inside me tighter, turning them into neat little lumps. Confusion reigned.

  I summoned the energy to face him again.

  “You're the last person in the world I'd ever want to hurt. You've taken a lot of bullshit, Rach. I want to make it up to you...”

  “Stop trying so damned hard,” I snapped. “What you do is none of my business. If you want to sleep with blondie, be my guest. It's nothing to me.”

  That's a lie, I thought.

  Jack laughed. All the turmoil in my words had done it. I didn't know what the hell I wanted, and neither did he.

  Or so I thought.

  He laid his hand on mine, wrapping my small palm in those powerful fingers. His touch was strong and soothing, even when it shouldn't have been. I fucking hated the way my body gave me away.

  “It's my business to make sure you're comfortable here.” He gazed into my eyes, never even stopping to blink. “It's near sundown. Do you want to go for a ride?”

  “A ride?” I echoed, as if my brain refused to click to understanding his words.

  “Yeah. On my bike. It's a beautiful evening. I'd rather blow out of here anyway before the kids go home and the guys get really rowdy. I haven't drunk myself so stupid I can't drive.”

  I hopped up, releasing his hand. Yeah, I was still halfway pissed at him over Michelle, but passing up a chance to ride on his motorcycle without danger nipping at our backs?

  “Count me in,” I said.

  Jack gave me the biggest smile I'd seen. He pushed up off my bed and waved me to follow him. We wound through the party, blissfully unnoticed.

  Michelle and the other whore must have retreated to the Purple Room. The door was closed, and muffled fuck noises were coming from behind it.

  “Put your arms around me and hold on tight, baby girl. I'll take you through town and then we'll hit the open road for a bit. Feels good to get some of this fresh summer air.”

  He pushed a helmet with a little earpiece inside into my arms. I quickly put it on. When he saw I having trouble with the radio thingie, he smiled, and adjusted it gently on my head.

  “There you be. Use this so we can talk to each other over the roar of this baby.” He patted the bike for emphasis.

  He wasn't kidding about that roar. I'd been too dazed and terrified during my first motorcycle ride to really appreciate how loud it got.

  We left the garage and tore out of the compound, stopping just once so Jack could open and close the high automatic fence.

  I was quiet for the first five minutes or so. Seeing Cassandra again brought mixed energy rushing through me, dark pasts colliding with my strange new present.

  He guided the bike down the town's small main strip. I eyed the stores I'd been in a couple hundred times growing up.

  Jesus. Did I really have a normal life once in this town?

  “You seeing it yet, baby girl?” Jack's voice rang through the earpiece, surprisingly clear.

  “Seeing what?”

  “This town differently,” he said. “You've got a whole new life here now. This place belongs to us, the real residents, not your fuck-heel of an old man or anybody else. As long as you're in this town under the club, I won't let anybody else dictate your life.”

  Anybody else? The possessive edge in his tone made me wonder if he'd be dictating my life from now on.

  Something about that sent a warm current through my body. I wrapped my arms tighter around his waist, feeling his rock hard abs.

  We blew out of Cassandra's little stretch in minutes, toward the prairie landscape I'd known my whole life. Nothing out here but hills and ranches, as far as the eye could see. We lived far enough from the oil boom so derricks and delivery trucks didn't taint our view.

  “Hell of a sunset, isn't it?”

  He wasn't kidding. A big orange fireball was halfway slipped beneath the horizon, hanging in the sky like a glowing pumpkin.

  “It's beautiful. Been awhile since I really appreciated one like that.”

  “You're young,” he pipped happily. “You're gonna see a lot of beauty, Rach. All the pretty things you need to outweigh the bullshit, long as you have somebody to keep them away.”

  “Is that you?” I was feeling courageous. Curious too.

  He paused. “Just might be. You'd make a hell of an old lady, Rach.”

  I didn't say anything yet. Every surface of my skin lit with the same rosy warmth pouring from the sinking sun, crackling to the ends of my fingers, right where I touched his perfect body.

  I wasn't ready to give up that easily. B
ut the tighter I clung to Jack and the warmer his voice sounded, I thought I might one day.

  “Tell me about the MC. I noticed some tension between you and your Dad at the party.”

  Jack looked over his shoulder for a second. His face was a little darker.

  “Pop? Him and I have had our shares of disagreements about club business. Lately it just seems like he's giving up on shit. I don't like it. Gotta look alive in this business and remember what really matters, or else you'll get eaten the fuck up.”

  “This isn't because of me, is it?” I inhaled the cooling summer air slowly.

  Another pause from him held the answer.

  “I don't give a shit if it is. I don't regret taking you away from the Skulls for a single second. This club's had worse things happen before for far less noble causes. Maybe you're trouble, Rach, but only in Pop's senile brain.”

  “You sure?”

  “I doubled down on you, didn't I? You're the kinda trouble I like.” He laughed gently, a beautiful sound. “And I'm hoping to have a lot more of it soon.”

  So am I.

  Bitch or no bitch, he'd won me back the instant we were on his bike. Feeling him beneath my hands just confirmed it. I rubbed my way up his chest, stifling a soft purr in my throat.

  The animal part of my brain wished he'd jerk the bike up a country road, throw me in a ditch, and tear off my clothes.

  Yep. I wanted him that fucking bad. I wanted him like nothing else, even if my whiny sane side wanted to pretend otherwise.

  Maybe living with these bikers would be good for me. I'd let the good girl rule for almost twenty years. Wasn't it time to let the other Rachel out, the one Dad had always suppressed?

  My hands snaked down his body, slipping just beneath his belt. He was hard all over.

  “Easy where you move those little fingers, baby girl.” His words were reluctant, heavy on his tongue, like he wanted to say the complete opposite. “Safety, you know.”

  I laughed at that. But maybe it wasn't so crazy.

  The last thing we needed was to end up in a wreck from me toying with the bulge I knew I'd feel if I just let my hands keep going.

  We rode into the lengthening darkness, talking all about old times in Cassandra. He told me about biker rallies in Sturgis, how he'd been part of the club his whole life.

  I talked about happier times at the county fair and the way I'd always admired the Devils whenever they drove by. I intentionally stopped short of saying anything about my asshole father.

  He always looked at the Devils with disdain. Called them criminals and 'low life scum.' How ironic that he'd gotten into bed with a pack of bastards way nastier than any Prairie Devils member.

  By the time Jack turned around and started to head to the clubhouse, the stars were showing in the sky, bathing us in their pale silver light. If riding with him during the evening was glorious, then nighttime on the Harley with this man was downright magical.

  “I'm so glad it's summer,” I said. “Nice to be out at night admiring that view without freezing our asses off.”

  Jack nodded knowingly. “Yeah. Funny thing about stars is they're pretty familiar on my trips. Saw the same clear skies up in International Falls last week. They've always reminded me of home, the clubhouse, usually some shitty disaster going on that needs fixing.”

  “Oh...that's not very comforting.”

  “Always a mixed bag before. But riding with you tonight's changed all that. Now whenever I look up and I'm not here, I'm gonna think about you, baby girl. These are your stars up above.”

  He reached behind me and patted my thigh. I almost melted into a puddle behind him.

  No man had ever talked to me like that before. I was starting to see why everybody called him Throttle.

  His smile looked shy sometimes, but his words and actions definitely weren't. He powered forward. What Jack wanted, he laid claim to, and I had a feeling the next thing was going to be me.

  Cassandra's antiquated lights went by in a blur. Before I knew it, we were pulling in through that high gate, unhooking our helmets in the hangar sized garage that housed all the club's vehicles.

  I almost fell over when I climbed off the bike. Jack caught me, holding me close, guiding my eyes to his face with that gentle laughter.

  “Sorry. Didn't think I'd be so dizzy.”

  “Just a little beginner's vertigo. You'll get plenty used to it. Can't wait until I take you on a longer trip. Maybe something that won't involve club business.”

  I'd like that. My heart throbbed, barely holding everything in.

  The last thing I wanted to look like in front of him was the inexperienced blushing virgin I actually was.

  “I'd better get inside. It's starting to get a little chilly.” I squeezed him tight as I said the words.

  “Not without this first.” Jack leaned in, planting his lips hard on mine.

  I never knew a kiss could burn. His heat started on my lips, hot and sweet and bright with electric desire, and then it swept south.

  The wildfire blasted through me, setting all my nerves ablaze, every gentle movement in his lips quickening the fire. I went limp in his strong arms and moaned. My lips opened to the firm touch of his tongue, and then it was inside my mouth, raw and real.

  The first time his tongue touched mine, I thought I'd die. He'd jolted me breathless and brainless. Parts I didn't want to acknowledge twitched with excitement, begging me to grind into him.

  God, I almost did.

  If it hadn't been for Warlock, I'm sure I would've given it up that very night.

  “Hey, Throttle.”

  Jack broke the kiss at the sound of his words, shooting the furry senior member the most annoyed look in the world.

  “What the fuck?”

  “Didn't mean to interrupt.” Warlock looked at me and I blushed, peeling myself away from Jack's warmth. “The Prez wants you in the meeting room to debrief on the trip. He really wants the skinny on whatever the fuck went down with the Canadians.”

  “It's okay.” I whispered up at him. “I need to turn in anyway.”

  “You do that, baby girl.” He ran his rough hand across my cheek one more time before looking at Warlock. “You coming, or what?”

  “Nah, man,” Warlock said. “Told me he wanted to talk to you alone.”

  “That just fucking figures. Okay, let's get her inside and get this shit over with.”

  I walked behind Jack with Warlock trailing me as we re-entered the clubhouse. Old seventies music was blasting out the jukebox, and the voices had died way down.

  The whole clubhouse smelled like beer, cigarettes, and barbecue sauce. The pungent smell whacked me in the face, making it a little easier to make my way to my room.

  “Have a goodnight,” I said, stopping at my door.

  Warlock nodded and kept going past me. Jack stopped and turned, aiming one more sultry smile my way.

  “I already did. You rest up. Now that I'm back, I'm gonna do whatever it takes to turn things around here. And nobody's gonna fucking stop me, especially where you're concerned.”

  I practically jumped into my room, slammed the door shut, and leaned on it. For the next hour before I collapsed in a dead sleep, I was in pure nirvana.

  IV: Rightful Property (Jack)

  I'd been close with bringing that heavenly angel to rock solid earth. So fucking close.

  If it weren't for Pop, I would've had her in my bed, showing her how much I really cared. I wanted to back up my words with hard, sweaty action worshiping every sweet curve of her tight little body.

  I wasn't sure what the hell I was thinking letting that slut get so close to me in the first place.

  Both our whores have been eyeing me up and down for a good long while. Sure, I fucked them in the past when I was drunk and needed quick pussy.

  What guy in this charter hasn't?

  But seeing the razor sharp jealousy filling up Rach's eyes was something else. I didn't even feel bad about peeling Michelle off me like an
old condom stuck to my shoe.

  Seeing Rachel reminded me who I really wanted, who I fucking needed after everything that had gone down the last couple weeks.

  I considered myself damned lucky that she'd taken me up on the evening ride. Having her hands pressed around my waist was hotter than a full romp with any woman I'd fucked before. And that kiss I stole on her plush young lips...fuck!

  Just fuck!

  My cock kept throbbing all night thinking about it. Too bad Pop pissed in my punchbowl.

  Maybe it was good news for Rachel. Dealing with his shit was the only thing that held me back from breaking down her door and dragging her to my cave like my great-great-great-great-grandfather Unga-Bunga four thousand years ago.

  Instead of having the best sex of my life, I was stuck in the stuffy meeting room, listening to Pop flapping his gums.

  He wanted every little nitty-gritty detail. That's the way it looked, anyway, but I knew he was really just trying to keep me on my feet and remind me that he still held the gavel in this club.

  “God damn it, son!” He bellowed at the climax of our meeting, slamming his huge wrinkled fists on the table. “Nobody controls what the Ontario boys do. They act on their own initiative, I get it. But you're a fucking idiot for egging them on, encouraging them to go after the Skulls south of the Maple Leaf.”

  “The Snakes have always been more proactive than this club. You know that, Pop. The second I told them there was a threat to our cross border business, they told me they were gonna take matters into their own hands.”

  “Bullshit.” Pop glowered at me. “You got exactly what you wanted – turning a skirmish with those assholes into a full on war. I hope you're ready to reap what you sowed, son.”

  “Is there really any question? Seems like you're the only one who isn't ready to fight for our MC.”

  He stood up. Pain rippled across his face as he stood. His messed up spine wasn't getting any better.

  “You say that to me again and I will have your reckless fuckery brought up for a vote. I know you think this gavel's automatically yours when I step down. Hell, I want it to be, but people aren't gonna listen to you if all you do is put their asses on the line for no good reason.”