by Rie Warren
I had a feeling the only activity that would adequately take the edge off would be a good long sex session with Rayce. That idea always made me instantly hard. I was giving her a little bit of space, though. I didn’t want to push her, didn’t want to scare her away. What we’d had on Christmas was too perfect to fuck up, so I messed with other shit instead, starting with some major demolition and DIY on the homestead.
Why not? My dick was almost always hard as a sledgehammer anyway. I checked with Brodie and Cat first, and they were one hundred percent on board. What started as a simple clean out of the rest of the furniture in our folks’ bedroom—all donated for a good cause—became a huge construction job.
I enlisted Tail’s help. I supplied him with beer, he supplied me with an extra pair of hands and double the muscle. Despite his manwhore tendencies, and the fact he did little more than play pool and talk shit at the MC, he turned out to be a hard worker who knew his way around a nail gun.
Man, I thought it’d be heartbreaking to finally say goodbye to the last of our parents’ belongings. Turned out I breathed easier in the house when I finally let their ghosts go.
I transformed their bedroom into an office, keeping one framed photo of them on my desk. With Tail and me working double-time, we updated my bedroom, gave it a fresh coat of paint, and knocked out the wall separating it from Cat’s room. Plumbing installed—that was a bitch of a day during which many beers were slung down our throats—we set about converting the extra square feet into a sweet-ass en suite bathroom.
In the meantime, when I couldn’t sleep at night, I began to redo Brodie’s old room. That was a job for me and me alone.
By the time New Year’s Eve rolled around, we were close to finishing the massive reno project.
And I’d only called Rayce four times, thought about her at least a million times a day, fell asleep with her all over my mind. But at least my hands were busy with something other than yanking my cock.
New Year’s Eve at Retribution was the usual rip-roaring drunk fest. With our growing numbers, it was even wilder than ever. Hunter and JB made their first post-honeymoon appearance, to be treated like MC royalty. They’d vacationed in Vale, and since Hunter didn’t ski it was obvious to all what they’d gotten up to during their winter wonderland honeymoon.
Hunter didn’t even bother denying it. Neither would I, given half the chance with Rayce.
As the night wore on, some dude conked his head on one of the low hanging, graffitied beer lights, and promptly passed out. His buddies were fast thinkers for such heavy drinkers. One of them splashed a full glass of alcohol in his face. The dude popped up like a friggin’ zombie waking from the dead and immediately went back to partying. No harm, no foul.
The crowd grew more boisterous as the hours drew closer to the big midnight countdown.
I barely got a chance to say hi to Rayce and openly stake my possession of her with a very long, very public kiss that drove a hot spike of need straight into my groin. The high party atmosphere and the sheer volume of people jammed into Retribution made it impossible for me to remain by her side for more than a few minutes.
Things turned ugly when Kinkaid lost his shit in a major way, completely out of the blue and totally out of character for him. One minute he was behind the bar like a good little Probie, the next he’d vaulted right across the steel top and jumped a Nomad biker who’d been talking to . . . Sadie.
Before I could get over there to break up the fight, Kinkaid laid the dude out flat on the floor. Cole dragged him off the prone body. Hunter walked him away. Sadie looked just about ready to commit murder while Brodie and Tail did the honors of taking care of the guy Kaid had gone all punching bag on.
Jesus Christ.
After that debacle, I kept my drinks to a minimum, kept a close eye on Rayce, and felt the heat of her stare on me every so often. Man, I couldn’t wait for my New Year’s Eve kiss. Somehow, and soon, I needed to make this thing between us official.
And I really wanted to get her the hell out of her dad’s house once and for all.
I did not know what the fuck was up with Kinkaid tonight, but he seriously lacked something in the anger management department. Not long later I witnessed him and Sadie talking heatedly in the corner by the bar.
I was just about to intervene when Sadie hauled back and slapped him across the face.
“You can take your present and shove it up that ass you like to shake so much, darlin’.” There was no mistaking just how pissed off Sadie was.
Maybe Kinkaid was just plain stupid, because as she marched toward the door he shouted after her, “So I take it I’m not gonna get a countdown kiss after all?”
Double middle fingers flew up in his direction sent from Sadie.
Damn.
I watched Cole talking to him, probably giving him the bro-pep-talk. Also known as, don’t be such a fucking dick. JB came at him claws bared because Sadie was one of her girls. Brodie mentioned something to the hurtin’ Probie, a smirk on his face.
What the hell? I decided to add my own two cents to the train wreck of a situation. “Don’t know what the motherfuck you did, hoss, but probably a good time to figure out how to make it right.”
Meanwhile Kinkaid continued to look alternately angrier than I’d ever seen him and completely crestfallen.
His relationship therapy was put on hold as midnight approached. The mass of biker honeys and roadhog dudes filtered outside to the parking lot as fireworks began to light the sky in pops and crackles and big booms of bright colors.
Standing taller than most, I spied my woman and cut easily through the crowd.
I pulled her into my arms where she felt so damn good.
All around us, the black night exploded and sizzled—reds, oranges, golds, and greens. Every firework was reflected in the wide oval eyes Rayce turned up to me.
“Well.” She pouted. “What are you waiting for?”
“The countdown.”
Her fingertips coasted over my lips and her other hand clasped around my neck. “Ah. A traditionalist. Should’ve known, old man.”
I hitched her against me with my hands planted firmly on her luscious ass. “You know it.”
TEN!
Everyone joined in, shouting.
NINE!
Another burst of fireworks dazzled in the sky.
EIGHT!
Rayce freakin’ dazzled me with her contagious smile.
SEVEN, SIX, FIVE, FOUR!
Whistles screamed around us. Folks laughed and bellowed.
THREE!
One of my hands moved up Rayce’s back, folding her more forcefully against me.
TWO!
I guided back her head, absolutely captivated by her.
ONE! HAPPY NEW YEAR!
2015. A whole new year. A better year.
My lips pressed against Rayce’s, and through the commotion I heard her moan. With that one sound, my kiss became greedy, hungry. Reckless. Relentless.
Her short nails dug into my shoulders, and I drew her up to me, between my thighs where my cock throbbed, hard and heavy.
“Fuck yes.” She pulled my bottom lips between hers. “Been waiting all night for this.”
My fingers slid into her hair—so soft, short, and sexy. My lips curled up. “Why don’t you come give me more of your mouth then?”
A blast of heat just about took my balls to full capacity when Rayce slid her lips against mine. Her passionate fire ratcheted my temperature as we coiled around one another.
Fireworks weren’t just exploding in the sky. They were lighting off between us.
“Goddamn, princess.” I ducked down to kiss her one . . . more . . . time. “You know what you’re doing.”
She nuzzled against my lips. “So do you.”
“I want to be inside you.” I slid my mouth to her sweet earlobe, toying with the multiple piercings. “Want to fuck every single inch of my cock into you.”
She gasped. “Boomer, I—”
&nb
sp; Then she was pulled from my arms by JB grasping her hand.
I watched her retreat all the way into the clubhouse, my head tilted to better view the hippy glide of her walk.
“Hey!” I shouted. “Boomer, I what?”
She turned only to purse her lips and blow me a kiss.
“I think that was Boomer, I give you the big kiss off.” Handsome clapped me on the shoulder.
I grinned. “Bet you’d know all about getting the big kiss off, braw.”
Chapter Eleven
Racing Rayce
NEW YEAR’S DAY WAS a series of bad hangovers and big mistakes for a lot of the MC crew. Not me, though. I was one smug bastard. So what if Rayce hadn’t come home with me? I’d still gotten my kiss.
Even though hell-fucking-yeah I’d been looking forward to some New Year’s nookie, the slow burn was a good one.
Midmorning, January fifth, I busied myself in my office at Chrome and Steele. It was getting to be tax time, and that was always a fun job.
My iPhone gave its little chime. The screen lit up with a pic of Rayce.
Hey. She texted.
I instantly perked up. I liked her initiating contact. Hell, she could chase me all over Mt. Pleasant if she wanted to, and I wouldn’t put up a fight.
Wanna see me in action? She asked.
Insta-erection.
That was a no brainer.
I got up and shut my door with a loud bang. Didn’t need busybodies number one and two interfering with my dirty texting session.
You talkin’ about what I think you’re talkin’ about? Cuz the answer 2 that is always yes. I hit reply.
LMFAO. Don’t think we’re talkin’ about the same thing.
Kicking back my chair, I rapidly typed: I could show u me in action.
Sexting. Fuck yeah. Why not?
You’d get that thick long cock out for me and stroke it?
Slapping my palm down on the desk with a groan, I almost dropped the phone: Yeah.
Ur making me hot. She messaged.
Good.
I’m in the middle of Stone’s. Not good.
I grinned.
Ok. What kind of action u talking about?
****
I found out all about Rayce’s action the following Saturday. Motocross action, not sucking my cock fun times.
The day dawned crisp and cold and bright blue. A perfect early January day for a run out to Walterboro and the MX track. Both Sadie and Rayce were gearing up to qualify for a huge national event.
After feeding myself and Shitlock, in reverse order because he was way more needy than me, I pulled on the leathers, rolled my Black Shadow out of the garage, and gunned it hard down 17 South.
It only took thirty minutes of dodging around slow cars, monster trucks, and slipstreaming between mud-splattered pickups to land at the race track. I made record time on the black beast of my vintage bike, but the parking lot was already jam-packed with more hardcore trucks, mighty mudrunners, and a multitude of motorcycles.
I parked my ride, paid for my ticket, and walked into the MX Thunderdome of South Carolina. Dirt bikers got their exhibition on, popping wheelies, spinning out mud, streamlining over jumps no-handed.
This was one hell of a downhome event, and Rayce had told me qualifiers could eventually get to the Women’s National Motocross Championship.
I spotted big Kinkaid in the crowd, his white-blond hair nothing short of a beacon.
“What up?” I pumped his hand.
“Sadie’s on the track today, too.”
“I know. The same Sadie who handed you your ass last weekend?”
“We made up.”
“You mean you made out.” Out of the blue, Tail swaggered toward us with twin cherries—no really, identical twins—on his arms.
Suddenly Kinkaid and Sadie’s weird blow out on NYE made total sense. The dude had it bad for his best friend. No wonder he’d lost his usual cool and busted up the no-name Nomad biker’s face when he dared to lay a hand on his woman.
“So you fixed things with your girl?” I asked.
Kaid hit me with the kind of goofy grin that only someone completely in love could pull off without becoming the butt of jokes.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Settling next to him by the railing, I slanted my eyes his way. “You been to one of these things before?”
“Oh yeah. Sadie’s kind of a career biker.”
“And you’re her bitch cheerleader.” Brodie slid up on the other side of Kinkaid while Tail entertained his twin bombshells behind us.
“How the hell’d you know about this?” I craned around Kinkaid, glaring at Brodie.
“Dude. I got your phone tapped.”
“The fuck you do.”
“Remember. I’m sleeping with the po-lice?”
“Yeah? You better be sleeping with a shotgun under your pillow, dickbreath.”
“Easy, killer.” Brodie chuckled. “New Probie here told me. Thought we could make it a family outing.”
Aaaand then the rest of the clowns arrived. Cole, Tuck, Handsome, Hunter.
“Ain’t nuthin’ on the DL at the MC. And since it’s your goddamn MC you oughtta be used to it by now, son.” Grandfather Retribution tucked his arms across his barrel-belly.
Any smartass comeback I might’ve had got swallowed by the sudden high-pitched scream of two- and four-stroke engines.
“Damn. Looks like we got here just in time.” Tail’s breath turned to white fog in the cold winter air.
What it looked like was something out of my worst nightmares. Dozens and dozens of female motocross racers about to take to the dirt track that spread across a huge area surrounded by dense forest. Treacherous twists and turns. Bumps, jumps, hills. And Rayce would be in the middle of it.
Fuck. I did not like this. I still woke up—sweating, silently screaming—from night terrors about the car accident that had killed my parents.
Scanning the riders getting into formation at the starting gate, I finally spied Rayce. Number 94. She lifted her head in my direction with a little wave. Then she puckered up and blew me a kiss.
Despite the terror clutching my heart, I grinned.
“Look at you. Got your very own dirt bike sweetheart.” Tail punched my arm.
I was not disputing that fact.
Rayce straddled the trial bike in a white mesh, long-sleeved shirt that did nothing to conceal her filled-to-the-max sports bra. She covered up with a dark red chest plate to my sigh of relief. Added to her protective gear were thick nylon pants and riding boots buckled up the sides with steel-toed caps. She tucked her head inside the full-face helmet with a streamlined fin on the back.
Next to her stood Sadie, and they both worked the throttles, holding their demon bikes at bay as high-octane shrieks tore from their pipes.
“Care to make this more interesting?” After skinning back his long black hair, Tail aimed a finger at me.
“What’d you have in mind?” I asked.
“Rayce versus Sadie.”
“My money’s on Rayce.” No brainer.
“Hear that, Kinkaid?” Tail slapped him on the shoulder. “What do you say?”
He snorted. “My motto is never bet against the boss. But Sadie’s gonna trounce her.”
“Well, shit. I guess I better man up then. How much is the wager?” Tail pulled out his wallet, ticking off dollar bills.
“Not how much.” I had an evil idea brewing. “But what.”
“Well?”
“Loser has to ride a moped back to Charleston.”
Brodie hooted with laughter when he heard that one.
“You won’t get it here in time,” Tail challenged.
“Wanna bet? Again?” I immediately got on my phone. I had connections alllll the fuck over the place.
The deal sealed, I turned back to the track just in time to hear the starting gun.
The next moments were terrifying. The gate opened. The racers ripped onto the track with an air-splitting wail of en
gines.
Dangerous.
High speeds.
Rayce’s motocross habit was gonna make me mental.
I gripped the railing in tight fists, leaning closer, keeping my gaze locked on her.
She sailed over the first jump and landed low and sweet.
Dirt flew from beneath her tires as she maneuvered around turn after hairpin turn.
Shouting from the crowd joined the banshee shriek of the bikes.
Fuck, Rayce was good.
That didn’t make me feel any better.
Easily in the lead with Sadie gaining ground, the two women distanced themselves from the pack.
I glanced at Kinkaid. He didn’t look nearly as freaked out as I felt.
Grinding my teeth together, I willed the race to be over.
Rayce’s cutting-edge bike whined as she took another jump, lofting so high in the air I wondered if she’d ever land again.
When she made impact with the track, her tires wobbled. My pulse took up a frantic beat.
On the next turn, she wiped out. A fountain of dirt fanned from the whizzing wheels, and the engine let out a high whine.
Rayce lay half on and half off the track, racers swerving around her.
“Holy shit!” I was ready to jump the fence to get to her.
It happened so goddamn fast, one minute she was spinning dirt, the next she was eating dust.
Kinkaid clamped down on my shoulder. “Hang on a sec.”
I wheeled on him. “Are you fucking kidding me? She just bit it out there. I’m not gonna—”
He released me and hooked his thumb over my shoulder. “Check it.”
Maybe ten seconds had elapsed . . . and Rayce was already up and back on her dirt bike, powering through it.
“Fuck.” I took several deep breaths as she hit the track again.
Brodie sidled over. “Shit, bro. You turned white there for a moment. Sure you wanna watch the rest of this?” he asked quietly.
He knew exactly what had me all shook up.
My fingers balled into fists. My voice strained. “Yeah. I’d rather watch than not know . . .”
I flinched as another biker got way too close to Rayce.
