by K E Osborn
I nod. “I know she means a lot to you… all our rides mean everything to us. I am sure Spanner will be able to fix it. If Smokin’ Joe recommended Spanner, then I’m sure he will fucking excel at what he does.”
“Fucking better, brother, or I’ll be fucking Vibe up close and personal like.”
I let out a small chuckle. “I don’t believe that would be wise… considering Vibe was almost blind at the time of the accident. Remember, the Ishikawa had just beaten him to a bloody pulp.”
Scratch scoffs leaning down to the tank of his ride and kisses the battered paintwork. “Fuck if I care. He broke my baby, so I’ll break his damn face.”
“Children… I live with damn children.” I roll my eyes in protest.
Scratch laughs as he bends down attempting to look over his ride a little more while we wait for this mysterious Spanner to arrive.
CHAPTER TWO
SENSEI
I’m sitting at the bar with Scratch waiting for the call to come through on the arrival of Spanner. Ruby, our head club girl, is laughing about how she and Cindi spent last night doing Jell-O shots while we were all spending our time being ambushed by the Ishikawa Yakuza. My mind boggles how these club girls can party all night and still manage to function all day without a hassle.
“How ‘bout you, Sensei? You up for a party tonight?” Cindi asks, thrusting her boobs forward as she leans down onto the bar and looks up at me through her lashes while blinking rapidly.
I chuckle, swallowing a large gulp of my beer while taking a little longer-than-necessary glance at her cleavage. Scratch bumps into my side as I place my stein down on the bar, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.
“Possibly… my family is coming in tonight, so I might have to rain check. But keep your door open for me in the future.”
She pouts and lets out a small whimper. “Shame, I love tugging on those dreadlocks.”
Scratch laughs and slaps me on the back as his cell rings, and he puts it up to his ear. “Yellow?”
I glance at him.
“Awesome, we’ll head out now.” Scratch ends the call, tips his chin to me in a gesture of ‘it’s time to go,’ then stands grabbing his keys. “Spanner’s here… time to fix my baby.” His beaming smile is almost contagious.
I gulp down the last of my beer and wink at Cindi as I stand from my stool and head with Scratch out of the clubrooms toward the main gate. Gatekeeper pulls it open, and I see a woman standing there with a toolbox.
She has strawberry blonde, edging on the side of red, hair pulled back in a ponytail. A red bandana tied around her head keeping her hair from her stunning face. Her eyes are smothered in dark makeup, but her irises are an intense hazel, the flecks of combatting gold, green and brown make them stand out against her harsh makeup.
The next thing I notice is the beauty mark on her upper lip, just like the one Cindy Crawford has. This woman looks like a supermodel, but with a hardcore edge, and I definitely am not mistaken by the fact her arms are littered with an intricate, full sleeve of colored tattoos. I can’t decide if she looks like a girly girl or a tough-as-fuck prison inmate. Her curvy, but toned figure is covered in a tight white tank top and a pair of blue coveralls tied at her waist. My cock instantly approves as I look her up and down, but I have to admit I’m slightly confused as to who the fuck she is and what the hell she’s doing here.
“We didn’t order a fucking stripper? Did we order a fucking stripper?” Scratch murmurs in my ear as she places her hand on her hip, blowing out a bubble from the piece of pink gum she’s chewing. It pops with a loud bang, and I open my eyes wide as she stares at us.
I clear my throat as she looks me up and down.
“You gonna let me come in, or what, slick?” Her curt manner shocks me, and I jolt my head back in surprise at her tone.
“First of all, I have no idea who you are. Secondly, we’re expecting Spanner. He should be here.”
She rolls her eyes, and my mouth twitches at her sass. “You’re looking at her, man.” She looks past us into the compound like she’s bored as another bubble pops from her mouth.
Scratch lets out a loud laugh and nods his head in approval. “Fuck yeah!”
Tilting my head at this turn of events, I look her over. She appears like she could handle just about anything thrown at her. She has the edge of a fierce woman, the attitude to match, and I have no idea what the hell is going on right now, but something about her is having a massive effect on me.
Clearing my throat and trying to reign in my composure, I gesture for her to walk in. She smiles at me, and it’s fucking dazzling as she steps up to my side, toolbox in her hand while she walks between Scratch and me as we head toward Scratch’s bike.
“So… you’re a mechanic?” Scratch asks looking her up and down in an overly obvious way.
She chuckles, but it’s more like a ‘fuck you’ than anything else. “Brilliant deduction! What gave it away? And you might want to stop looking at me like that, cowboy, these cookies aren’t up for grabs. Not for you anyway,” she snaps at Scratch.
He chuckles bringing his hand to his chest and fakes a heart attack. “Oh fuck, girl’s got bite. You sure you don’t want just a little taste, princess?”
She snorts and shakes her head. “With you? Think I’ll pass. And call me princess again, slick, and I’ll cut off all that pretty hair of yours while you sleep.”
Scratch runs his fingers through his long brown locks and shakes his head. “Too far… too fucking far.”
I let out a small chuckle as I glance at her sideways and then ask the question running around my head since I spoke to Smokin’ Joe. “Why do they call you Spanner?”
She snorts rolling her eyes like she’s had to tell this story a thousand times. “So I’m pretty sure you know Smokin’ Joe’s all Australian. Back in the land down under they call wrenches, spanners. Since moving to the States, he hasn’t been able to shake off his Aussie slang.” She cocks her lips up in a grin. “Even though he’s been here close to thirty-five years, he still talks like the Crocodile Hunter.”
A slow smile creeps on my face watching her talk about Smokin’ Joe. She definitely has affection for him.
“So, for me to fit into the shop, be one of the guys, he thought it best I have a nickname. Spanner it was, and has been since I can remember.” A look of fondness crosses her face, and I can’t help but smile. As we approach Scratch’s ride, her eyes open wide as she looks at his mangled bike. She pulls to a halt and places her toolbox on the ground tilting her head. “This is the ride I need to look at?”
Scratch nods. “She’s my baby.”
Spanner winces and looks over the bike from a distance. “What the hell happened?”
“One of my brothers hit her with a fucking truck,” Scratch replies, and she lets out a loud laugh and nods like this is a normal everyday occurrence.
“Okay, well, you’re gonna have to bring that hunk of tin to my shop.”
I look to her and puff out my chest. “No. You can fix it here.”
She finally glances over at me and raises her brow assessing me as her eyes wander my body looking me up and down. The simple gesture makes my cock damn-well throb.
“You don’t have the things I need here.” Her tone drops an octave, her voice taking on a sexy huskier tone, and with that, my cock instantly begins to harden.
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! What the hell is this woman playing at right now?
Well, I can play just as easily.
“Right then, Spanner, what do you need?” I ask looking back at her right into her hazel eyes. Our eyes lock, and I notice her breath catches. She might be playing a game with me, but we’re both being affected by each other right now. The staring between us is making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end as silence engulfs the compound, and all background noise seems to cease. The tension rises as she swallows hard and then finally looks away from me breaking our connection as she stares back at the bike.
Spanner smiles and runs her han
d along the crumpled tank. “Well then, I need an industrial-size dumpster because that ride… is fucked.”
That’s her answer after our moment? Whatever the fuck that moment was shocks me, and I furrow my brows in annoyance.
“What the fuck did you just say?” I reply, my anger taking hold before I can contain myself.
She looks at me with a smirk. “It’s fucked. Scopata. Baisée. Gefickt. Jodido. Körd… comprende?”
Hearing her say fucked in five different languages with such fluidity and ease has my body working overtime keeping itself together. This woman might look like a firecracker, a tough nut who only works as a mechanic and knows nothing other than engines, but I can tell just from that little display, she’s smart despite what her looks tell me about her. This has my cock aching even harder, and I’m trying everything in my power to keep myself in check right now.
Scratch bursts out laughing. I’m nothing but confused seeing as how he was just told his ride is totaled. Shouldn’t he be devastated by this news? Not laughing at this woman’s apparent talent for linguistic flair.
I turn to Scratch as my brows crease together. “Are you not annoyed your ride is trashed?”
He nods with a broad smile. “Well, yeah, but watching you squirm is sooo worth it.”
Scrunching up my face, I scoff out a, “Fuck off.”
Scratch then turns to Spanner. “So, really, you can’t fix her?”
Spanner shakes her head running her hand over the tank and grimacing. “Nah, man, your ride’s toast.”
Scratch slumps and frowns. “Shit!” He lets out an exaggerated sigh and shrugs. “Thanks anyway.” He turns walking off hurriedly leaving me with Spanner as she watches him march away.
Raising a brow at Scratch’s strange behavior, I turn back to see Spanner running her hands all over his bike, her eyes focusing on certain parts as she tinkers with small sockets and runs her fingers over the bent air filter.
I fold my arms over my chest. “What the fuck are you doing now?”
She doesn’t look at me or stop what she’s doing but continues to check over the bike. “It can still be used for spare parts. Chillax. You’re so uptight.”
Relaxing my muscles slightly, I drop my arms from around me and let out a small huff. “Things are… tense here at the moment.”
She turns her head to look at me and nods blowing another bubble and letting it pop. “Yeah… you’re a biker. Shit’s always tense. It’s how you deal with it that makes the man.” She turns back to the bike as I raise my brow at her words and watch her working on Scratch’s bike. Her body is riddled with tattoos—she’s definitely hot as fuck. I had no idea Smokin’ Joe had someone like Spanner working for him. Joe normally comes here on his own and never mentioned he had people at his shop. Never had to until now I suppose.
“So, Spanner… do you work for Smokin’ Joe full-time?” I ask wondering if there’s a way I can maybe try to see her again. She’s captured my attention in more than the usual way, and all I know is I don’t want this to be the last time I see her.
She snorts. “Yeah, I’m his right-hand man. But I’ll probably be taking over sooner rather than later. But that’s a whole kettle of fish I’d rather not fry right now.”
“Okay… well, if I agree to let you have Scratch’s bike for spare parts… you have to agree to let me bring it to the shop for you.”
She stands up from her crouched position and looks me up and down, a faint blush spreading across her cheeks, and she smirks. “Is this your way of trying to see me again?” She blows a big bubble, the bubble pops, and then she licks the gum back into her mouth.
Fucking hell! I take a breath and try to center myself.
“I’m just trying to get you your parts, Spanner… make of that what you will.”
She snorts and rolls her eyes turning back to the bike. “Man, you’re wound up tighter than an inmate in the shower room of the local jail who just dropped his damn soap.”
Raising my brow, my lips turn up slightly in a small smile as she grabs hold of the fog lamp and twists it slightly making it fall out.
She lets out a small giggle while shaking her head as she turns back to me and sighs. “Okay, bring the bike to me, so I can scrap her for parts, and then we’ll go from there… yeah, pretty boy?”
My smile falls, and I scowl at her. “Pretty boy?”
She laughs. “You should see your face right now. Fucking priceless! What’s your road name, pretty?”
Folding my arms over my chest again, I stand taller looking down at her through strong eyes, but she doesn’t even budge at my firm glare. She simply pops another bubble while waiting for me to talk.
This woman! She really has no fear.
“First of all, you think it’s okay to talk to a brother this way?”
She smiles. “Well, thing is, I’m not scared of bikers like most women. I can handle myself. So that death glare you’re shooting through at me right now is doing nothing but sending your blood pressure sky high. Might want to take some aspirin or something in case you have a heart attack too with the way your face is turning red there, pretty.”
The way she’s talking is having the most remarkable effect on me. That typhoon standing in front of me is also swarming around inside of me, and it’s one of anger and one of insatiable damn lust. Her answering back and talking with such intent is something I’m not used to from women. I’ve only ever had women either falling at my feet or being completely terrified of me. But never, ever, have I had one treat me the way Spanner is right now.
It’s throwing me off my game.
“Call me pretty one more time…” I pause and crease my brows, “… and I will show you just how pretty a shade of red will be on your ass when I’m through with you.”
She waggles her eyebrows salaciously and pops a bubble leaning in closer to me. “Who says I wouldn’t like that?”
My damn cock springs to attention as she lets out a small chuckle while turning and bending over to look at something else on the bike. I can’t help but stare at her perfect round ass as it sits right in front of me, even in those baggy coveralls, and I tilt my head knowing she did that on purpose.
Fuck me! This woman is a fucking tease.
“When can you have her to me, biker with no name?” Spanner asks as she stands up folding her arms just under her breasts pushing them up, so they look extra pert and ready for the taking.
Fucking hell!
Trying to keep my eyes up and on her eyes is taking every ounce of strength I have as I grin. “Sensei, my road name is Sensei.”
“Hmm… I like it. Suits you. Which style is your poison?” she asks, and I know exactly what she means.
“Jujutsu.”
She nods, pursing her lips. “The Japanese style of Jujitsu, I’m impressed.” She smirks. “So, if you’re into that shit… you into tantric and the Kama Sutra, too? You look the type.”
Letting out a puff of air half surprised that she knows the difference between Brazilian and Japanese martial arts, and also at the blasé way she’s asked that question, I move awkwardly as she watches me assessing my every move. “Umm… not that it is any of your business… but no… I haven’t studied the ways of tantric nor the Kama Sutra… but, I’m well versed in the ways of… fucking women…” I narrow my eyes at her, “… hard.”
A slow smile grows on her lips as she blows another bubble, and it pops. She sucks the gum back into her mouth and raises her brow at me, another shade of pink slowly creeps over her cheeks like she’s affected by what I’ve just said.
“Good to know.” She leans down grabbing her toolbox and turns stepping off leaving me next to the bike completely stunned.
“See ya ‘round… pretty,” she calls out and then picks up her step as she heads out of the gate to her car.
While I watch her walk out, I think of the only thing crossing my mind right now—her, bent over my knee and me spanking the ever-loving shit out of her like I promised I’d do.
> Fuck! This woman has gotten under my skin, and this doesn’t happen to me. I use women as a means to release tension, and Spanner’s only making tension rise inside of me. She’s testing me. Unraveling all my emotions. And I’m unsure whether I love it or loathe the feeling. The only thing I know for sure is I will be the one to take Scratch’s ride to Smokin’ Joe’s Garage. Because I cannot let that encounter be the last time I see her.
Spanner steps around the side of the gate and Gatekeeper closes it behind her. I rub the back of my neck wondering what the hell just happened as I turn and head inside to find Vibe. He’s the man I need right now. Striding into the clubhouse, the general low drawl of Led Zeppelin rings over the speakers as I head straight for the bar. Vibe is seated next to Scratch as he drowns his sorrows.
“So Spanner said it was completely totaled?” Vibe asks, his Finnish accent coming through strong, especially on the word ‘was.’
Scratch groans banging his head on the bar with frustration. “My ride’s fucked. May as well throw it on the shit pile.”
“Well, at least you can buy a new baby now?” Vibe questions but it’s more of a statement as I step up to them, and Vibe looks at me with a shrug. His ice-blue eyes shining bright against his almost white hair, it’s so blond. He looks like some model from a Finnish magazine. Well, all except for the bruises which still adorn his face from the smack down the Ishikawa gave him.
Scratch groans out a muffled “yeah,” and I place my hand on his back in an attempt to try to soothe him.
“I’m glad you feel that way, brother…” My eyes dart to the ceiling. “I’m wondering if you would be opposed to the idea of letting Spanner have her for parts? I’m sure she’d pay you for the parts she uses.”
Scratch looks up with a forlorn appearance on his face, and he frowns.
There’s not one brother at the club who wouldn’t be fucking devastated if they lost their ride, so we all feel for Scratch. Our bikes are like an extension of our bodies, and we treasure them. They mean more than just a damn machine to us. Our rides hold down a set of ideals which celebrate more than just our freedom on the road but also undeniable loyalty to our club.
