He rolled off her after a moment even though he wanted to remain inside of her, kissing her until he became soft, but he knew the floor had to be hard and uncomfortable.
She snuggled into him with another sigh. “Good for you?” she asked softly.
“It gets better every time.”
“Yes.” She paused for a long moment and then smiled to herself. “Do you even know what a spatula is?”
He chuckled before twisting to kiss her playfully. “I think so. But I want a rematch. You had an unfair advantage.”
“Excuses, excuses,” she giggled. They lay still until the water leached the heat of their passions from them. “I’m getting cold,” she murmured.
“Yeah, wrinkled, too, I imagine.”
She giggled again, kissing him briefly before rising to rinse the mud from herself. “Colt…look!” she said as he stared at her hands and arms.
“What?”
She looked around and found the flashlight, clicking it on and shinning it first on her, then on him. They sparkled with millions of tiny stars. “Look! What is it?”
Colt drew his finger across his body and rubbed his fingers together. He could see the tracks his fingers left in the mud, but even there, there were still the remains of the tiny stars. “I don’t know. Silver dust, maybe, from the mine?” He took the light from her and played it over her body. She sparkled like a goddess and he couldn’t tear his eyes away. Standing there with her perfect female form, backlit by the beam of light and glowing as from an inner light, she took his breath and he would forever remember this moment.
“What?” she asked, puzzled by the look on his face. “What do you see?”
“An angel,” he breathed. “You are so incredibly beautiful.”
She smiled, thinking he was teasing her. “You’re not so bad yourself,” she said, but he still had the gobsmacked expression on his face and she suddenly felt warm and gooey inside. Embarrassed, she turned and waded into the water until it covered her breasts then began rubbing at her body to remove the mud. A moment later he joined her, his hands gliding over her skin. She turned and splashed water, and then returned the favor until he ducked under and scrubbed at his face furiously before bobbing up again.
He picked her up and pulled her in, holding her, nuzzling her neck as she nuzzled his. “We should go,” she whispered.
“I don’t want to.”
“We need to. They are going to wonder what happened to us. With everything going on, they may even come looking for us.”
He sighed. She was right, but he took his time carrying her back to their clothes.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“What the hell? Stay here!” Colt said as he bolted away, leaving Sierra standing. She squinted, looking at the clubhouse, trying to see what Colt had seen. It took her a moment then saw two men rise from the dirt. A moment later, two more. She couldn’t make out who was who, but the four men were clearly fighting for their lives.
She began to trot after Colt, trying to see what was going on. As she got closer she could see DVMC members pouring out of the clubhouse, trying to pull the four men apart. That quickly devolved and soon the entire club was in a giant free-for-all, men and women spreading out over the compound as they began to pound the shit out of each other. As Colt waded into the melee, she quickened her pace to a run, afraid for his safety.
She pulled up short, well out of range, her eyes wide. There was one man down at Colt’s feet as he held another by the front of his vest, throwing several hard punches before letting him go, hitting him one more time with a hard cross that put him on the ground. He then ran to where Fletch was losing to two men, jerking one around to face him.
She heard a woman scream, the sound causing her head to jerk around in the direction of the sound. Mayla and Skye had Vicki against the side of the building, beating her senseless. She hesitated and then ran to Vicki’s aid. She’d been working twice daily with Bobbi and she felt confident she could handle herself enough to help Vicki. Mayla and Skye were so transfixed on their prey they never heard her coming. Sierra skidded to a stop, grabbed Skye by the hair, and hauled her back. This time it was Skye who cried out in pain as Sierra spun her around and threw her best right cross. Skye’s head snapped back as if on a spring. She didn’t go down, but she didn’t make a move to defend herself either, so Sierra hit her again, putting her on her ass. She still wasn’t out, but it was obvious she wasn’t getting up any time soon.
Mayla, realizing she had another threat to deal with, let Vicki sag to the ground as she turned to face Sierra, throwing a hard punch directly into Sierra’s face. The blow hurt, it hurt a lot, but Mayla didn’t know how to deliver a knockout blow.
Sierra’s cheek hurt like nothing she’d ever experience before, her ears ringing as she went hot with rage. With an animal-like shriek she charged Mayla, knocking her down, landing so hard she tumbled off the other woman, but she was so enraged she was beyond feeling pain. She bounded back to her feet and turned to face Mayla, who was also getting up, but much more slowly.
Sierra charged in again, jerking Mayla upright by the hair before firing off two hard jabs that snapped the woman’s head back and started her nose bleeding before throwing her cross. Mayla went down hard on her ass, and just sat there as if stunned, so Sierra kicked her in the ribs for good measure.
“Not so much fun with even odds, is it bitch?” Sierra snarled before turning to Vicki, helping the other woman to her feet. “You okay?”
Vicki nodded, wiping at her eyes and nose as she tried to straighten. “Yeah. Thanks,” she gasped.
“Come on, let’s get you out of here,” Sierra said as she began to lead the battered woman away.
Colt went to his hands and knees, his head ringing like a bell. He never saw the punch coming and Steve had taken the cheap shot. He blocked most of the following kick to his ribs with his arm as he scrambled away, trying to give himself some time to clear his head. Steve followed, intent on finishing him off before he could recover. He drew his leg back to deliver another punishing kick, but Colt’s head was clearing and he was ready.
Again he took the blow on his shoulder and arm, covering to protect, but instead of scrambling back as before, he caught Steve’s foot under his arm and locked it into place. With a quick jerking roll he pulled the other man off balance, Steve going hard to his back.
Colt released Steve’s foot, then launched himself, trying to get in close. Steve lashed out with a vicious kick, but Colt ducked and took the size eleven boot on his shoulder. The blow hurt like a bitch, but he didn’t slow, wanting to take advantage of Steve’s vulnerable position. He landed on him, throwing a hard punch to the face before Steve grabbed him by the face to defend himself.
Colt felt him clawing at his face as he tried to press his thumbs into his eyes. Unable to take Steve out with the one punch, Colt grabbed the other man’s wrists with his hands to prevent him from gouging his eyes out.
“You fucking traitor!” Steven snarled, their muscles straining as they sought to destroy each other.
Colt couldn’t pull Steve’s hands away from his face so he fell back, relieving the pressure on his eyes and breaking the man’s hold. Steve followed, throwing himself on top of Colt. They scrambled and kicked, tumbling over each other in the dirt a moment before freezing again as their hands closed around their opponent’s throat.
“Fuck…you…” Colt hissed as he starred down and watched Steve’s face turn red. He kept the pressure on, not daring to release his hold, hoping he could last longer than Steve. Colt sucked in a huge lungful of air when Steve’s hands left his throat and grabbed his wrists and began to struggled frantically to break Colt’s grip. As his struggles lessened, Colt released his grip and fired one, two, then three hard rights into Steve’s face until the man became still, blood pouring from his face. Colt rocked back onto his heels for a moment, gasping for breath and coughing, before rising to his feet and charging into battle once again.
“We don’t
want any trouble,” Sierra warned Monica as she and Vicki stepped into the clubhouse. Blu, another of Colt’s vocal supporters, was bleeding and moving feebly on the floor at the woman’s feet. “I just want to help Vicki get cleaned up.”
“Well you’ve got it, sister,” Monica sneered as she moved toward Sierra and Vicki. “The whole club has been fucked up since you got here…and now I’m going to take it out of your ass.”
“Monica, stop!” Vicki ordered, but her voice was weak. She was still stooped in pain and bleeding from the face.
“Shut up!” Monica growled as she continued her approach. “You picked the wrong side, Vicki, and now you’re going to pay for it.”
“Remember what happened the last time you fucked with me?” Sierra challenged as she separated from Vicki, trying to draw Monica away from the battered woman.
Monica’s face was still puffy and bruised, but she smiled. “Yeah, and payback’s a bitch.” Monica charged in, going low to stay away from Sierra’s fists.
Bobbi had been trying to teach Sierra the uppercut, but she hadn’t mastered that punch yet and didn’t feel confident in it, so she sidestepped and brought her elbow down hard on Monica’s back as she passed. It wasn’t a debilitating blow but it was enough to send Monica stumbling past.
She skidded to a stop and whirled to face Sierra. She was cautious, remembering very well the pummeling she took the last time they tangled. She watched as Sierra bounced on her toes, her hands up protecting her face. Monica knew Sierra’s fists were deadly, so she was going to have to do what she did best…get in close and fight dirty.
Monica smiled before charging in again, once again keeping her head down. Sierra tried to sidestep again, but Monica grabbed her shirt in passing, jerking her off balance and tearing her shirt. Monica spun, using Sierra as an anchor, never releasing her grip and hauled Sierra in close, driving her forearm into her jaw.
Sierra’s head snapped back from the blow and she stumbled back. She was rattled and couldn’t get her hands up with Monica in so close, so she grabbed the other woman’s hair and hauled down as hard as she could. Monica’s shriek of pain was almost deafening but she didn’t release her grip on Sierra.
Vicki took a step toward Monica and Sierra as the two woman struggled, their hands wrapped in each other’s hair. She had to help Sierra, but a moment later the door flung open as Skye and Mayla burst into the big common area.
“Blu! Get up!” Vicki hissed, waving her hand frantically as she stepping back toward the other woman as she sat on the floor wiping at her nose. Sierra was just going to have to take care of herself because she and Blu had their own problems now.
“What the fuck happened?” Colt asked Harrison, panting as he tried to catch his breath. Harrison had a cut above his eye that was bleeding profusely leaving his face covered in gore. Bobbi was at his side still bouncing on her toes, her knuckles bloody but otherwise untouched. The melee was almost over with only a few fights still going on.
Harrison wiped at his face again, smearing blood. “That fucking Dom, Ted, and Steve. The fuckers jumped Chains while he was checking over the generator. Nic and I heard them and tried to pull them apart. It went downhill from there. Where the fuck were you? When I didn’t see you, I thought something had happened.”
Colt shook his head. “Sierra and I went for a walk. I had to get away before I killed someone.” He looked around. More of his guys were standing than Dom’s group, and the insurrection appeared to be over as the men on the ground slowly got to their feet. He spat blood onto the dust, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, looking at the resulting smear before spitting again.
“Come on,” Colt said, tugging at Harrison and leading him toward Dominick as he stood over his defeated opponent, hands on knees, on the other side of the compound. “Let’s find out where we stand.”
As he, Harrison and Bobbi walked, his supporters, those still moving anyway, began to form up ranks behind him, Dom’s supporters doing the same behind their leader in an uneasy truce. As Colt and his group ground to a stop, it was clear they had carried the day. While all were battered and bleeding, he had almost twice as many men and women mobile as Dom.
Sierra tumbled backwards over the arm of the couch, Monica riding her down as she fell onto the cushions. Their shirts were in tatters from their mortal combat, with no mercy asked or given. Sierra grunted in pain as Monica’s heavy chest pressed painfully into her breasts as the older woman fell on her. She could hear the cries of pain and rage from the other four women as they, too, battled. All six women knew it was a fight to the finish and that the first to falter would turn the tide against them.
Sierra had tried desperately to get some space between herself and Monica so she could drive the woman back with her fists, but Monica clung to her like a limpet, keeping her in close, their embrace almost erotic at times as they struggled. They had been pushing and shoving at each other, tearing at their opponent’s hair, clothes and skin, for what seemed like hours.
They were both bleeding from small cuts and scrapes as they gouged and scratched while throwing each other against furniture or falling to the hard concrete floor. Monica fought dirty, snapping at Sierra with teeth and trying to flay her skin with claw-like hands. Unable to get free, Sierra had resorted to fighting just as dirty, trying to bite and scratch as Monica did. Sierra twisted to the side, Monica’s weight on her chest robbing her of desperately need breath, causing them to tumble off the couch onto the floor, still locked together in their deadly embrace.
Monica landed on the floor first, the impact loosening her hold on Sierra. Sierra rose up and tried to drive a fist into Monica’s face, but Monica caught her arm and held it, preventing her from delivering the blow. They strained in silence, no longer able to spare the breath to snarl at each other.
Monica screamed in pain and rage as Sierra drove a knee hard into her pussy. The stunning blow allowed Sierra to fall forward as Monica’s bracing hand suddenly collapsed. Monica tried to rally and released Sierra’s hair to rake at her face, but Sierra caught the hand before it could touch her. She wanted to knee Monica again, but with Monica holding her right arm up and back, and her left hand pinning Monica’s wrist, she no longer had the strength to force herself up to deliver the blow.
They were tangled again, breast to breast, and Monica sensed Sierra weakening. The battle was beginning to go her way and the thought of sexually mauling Sierra excited her. Turned on by their brutal fight and her impending victory, Monica wrapped her legs around Sierra’s ass and held her tight, pulling her womanhood hard into hers and locking her into the deadly embrace, preventing either woman from being able to move but also preventing Sierra’s escape. This is what Monica did best, the pain and now erotic struggle exciting her, fueling her and giving her strength. Monica smiled nastily as she slowly powered her hand up, taking Sierra behind the head and wrapping her hand in her hair again.
Sierra was exhausted and was losing the battle of strength with Monica. Monica’s leverage had allowed her to get her hand into Sierra’s hair again and now she was slowly pulling Sierra’s face toward her claw like hand, moaning in effort and excitement.
“It’s over, you bitch,” Monica panted. “You lose.”
Sierra was desperate as Monica’s hand was only inches from clawing her eyes out. Sierra relaxed, driving her head down, using the pull of Monica’s hand behind her head to increase the power of the blow. Using the last of her strength Sierra twisted her head away from Monica’s hand, her forehead connecting solidly with Monica’s left cheek. The force of the blow stunned Sierra as Monica went limp. She tried to rise, to escape, but her head spun like a top and she collapsed across her opponent’s body, panting as she waited for her head to clear, hoping she recovered from the blow before Monica did or she had to deal with Mayla or Skye.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Colt raged at the entire club. He’d gathered his supporters and rounded up Dom and the men and w
omen who backed him. When they entered the clubhouse they had found Sierra just getting off an unconscious and bleeding Monica as Blu and Mayla, Skye and Vicki, grunted and strained against either other, still locked in fierce combat. All six women looked like hell, their clothes torn, their skin covered in bruises and scratches. After getting the four woman separated, the group divided into two camps. The men and women of the Death Valley Motorcycle Club glared at each other as they tended their wounded.
“We were all brothers and sisters once! Now we are fighting among ourselves like animals! Have we fallen so far?”
“Fuck you, Colt!” Dom snarled, kneeling at Monica’s side and wiping at her face with a damp cloth. “You started this! You and your little clan!”
“I’m trying to make this a better place, without all of this!” he roared as he gestured toward the members. “Is this what you want? To fight all the time?”
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