BIKER DADDY_The Chain Gang MC

by Claire St. Rose

  He felt Zoya shift and squirm. He didn’t open his eyes, but he felt her gaze on him. Micah waited.

  “Are you awake?” she whispered tentatively.

  He didn’t answer. He felt the tension in her arm, the one pressed against his. Gradually, she started again. The in and out drag of her penetrating middle finger made Zoya bite back cries of pleasure. It was the fantasy that made the arousal burn hotter, the idea of him having his way with her.

  He slid a hand between her legs and cupped her mons, pressing her finger deeper. Zoya whimpered. Micah groaned in desire. He was losing the battle to stay away from her physically. She wasn’t fighting fair. It had to be biological warfare to crawl naked into his bed and expect him not to touch her.

  He growled softly with frustrated need. His mouth slipped to her shoulder to close around the dusky skin. His tongue flicked against her flesh. He tasted the sweet coconut oil she had used to oil herself. He smelled the jasmine and honey perfume. He groaned again.

  “Let me help you with that,” Micah sighed. His mouth slid over her shoulder to the side of her neck as she moved into his arms with a wanton moan that spoke volumes about how she really felt about his move to not have sex with her. Micah chuckled, surprised. “My darling,” he murmured, sucking at her throbbing pulse. Her hair fluttered around his face, tickling his cheeks. He smiled against her jugular. “I’ve kept you waiting, haven’t I?”

  He rolled Zoya onto her back and slipped over her, settling between her widespread legs and feeling her pelvis press against his anxiously. His pajama bottoms provided minimal barrier. He could feel her heat, her moisture like a thundercloud ready to unleash. Her hands flew to his neck and her nails raked down his back. Micah dropped his mouth to Zoya’s and kissed her like he had wanted to do for ages. She melted. She flowed in his arms as languidly as a river, molding to his body. Her legs eased up and round his hips, heels locking at the back of his thighs, moving restlessly up and down the back of his legs.

  Micah sipped at her tongue, flicking his tongue against the roof of her mouth. He licked and sucked her lips. He slanted his mouth against hers, as she mewled and whimpered with abandonment. Each small sound of pleasure and desire battered his senses and spiked his lust. He couldn’t hold back from her.

  Her breasts were round and full, dark nipples beckoning to him. Micah moved his face down to her chest to rest his nose in her cleavage. Inhaling deeply, he smiled against her skin.

  “I thought I didn’t pique your interest anymore,” she confessed in a breathless sigh. Her spine arched, and she pressed his face to her breasts. His mouth moved to her nipple. Micah slid his wet, silky tongue around the areola and tugged the nipple into his mouth, suckling. Her fingers ran through his unruly hair. “Ah! Yes,” she gasped.

  Her womanhood throbbed against his cock. He could feel it through his pants. Micah desperately clung to her waist and pressed her back down to the bed to ease some of the tension. If he didn’t, he would let go before he had even gotten in good. He groaned, sucking from one nipple to the next. She was already aroused, but there were levels. He could take her higher. With diligent dedication, he kissed her golden globes until her cries grew louder and more urgent, and he drew his kisses lower down her stomach. The dip of her bellybutton accepted the tip of his tongue.

  Micah didn’t stop there. His nose skidded over the bare skin to the sweet nectar between her quivering thighs, and he buried his tongue as deeply inside of her as he could go. The instant shock of pleasure made Zoya scream his name.

  “Yes,” he murmured against her dripping wetness. “Tell me what you want me to do.”

  She blushed, uncertain if she had heard him correctly. “You know,” she moaned shyly. Her thighs slid against his face. Her fingers tangled in his hair. “You know what you do to me.”

  He grabbed her legs and held them open wide. “Tell me.” His breath tickled her. She squirmed, trying to lift her hips to put her body back at his mouth. Micah pulled back a teasing fraction more.

  “Kiss me,” she cried out with need.

  “You mean like this?” Micah slipped his tongue past his lips and slid the glistening tip from the top of her slit near her clitoris to the very bottom. He curled his tongue erotically into her opening and gently eased back out. Her incoherent cries echoed through the quiet room. His erection strained against the bed, and he moaned in abject pleasure at the pleasure he was giving her.

  Tongue kissing her intimate parts as tenderly and deeply as he had kissed her mouth, Micah gave Zoya oral sex the likes of which he had never given another woman. He boldly drew his chin into the well of her body and stroked in and out as he let her thrust against his mouth, her clitoris at the mercy of his tongue. As she rode his face, he felt his cock jerk insistently, and Micah let out a tortured sound. He sucked her clit harder. First, she would come. First, he would make her body shower sparks of radiant completion across his darkened bedroom. Then, he would get his.

  He kept going. His tongue flicked up and down in rapid swoops like a bumblebee’s wings beating against a flower. Her body was a loose cannon, ready to fire. A strangled cry flew from her lips as she instinctively curved her pelvis to accept the pleasure. Her stomach tensed, as Zoya held herself still to receive. All she could say was yes. Affirmations slipped out of her mouth with each exhale. She shuddered for him and throbbed. Her clit pulsated against his tongue. Masturbation had nothing on his expert love making.

  “Please!” she cried. “Oh, please!” Head whipping from side to side, her hair flew around her face as her body ejaculated with a powerful orgasm. Zoya felt release like she had never experienced before. She felt it from the tingling crown of her head to her clenched toes. She felt it balled in her pelvis and flowing between her legs.

  Micah chuckled against her womanhood. Her body convulsed helplessly, surrendering control. “That’s it,” he murmured encouragingly, rising. His hand upon her stomach, he massaged her lower abdomen until she gradually relaxed. “That’s it, my beautiful girl. Did you get what you needed?”

  Zoya’s face flushed, and she covered it with weak hands. “Yes,” she whispered, embarrassed. He had picked up on her desperation and assuaged her desire. She felt worldly and…womanly. Decidedly more good than bad. Zoya dropped her hands and stared into Micah’s eyes.

  He leaned down and kissed her lips. Micah untied the drawstring of his pants and eased them over his hips, down his legs. She smiled against his mouth. “More?” she said inquisitively. She put her arms around his shoulders and brought him flush against her body after he was completely naked like her.

  Her breasts pressed to his chest, and Zoya savored the feel of his skin. She closed her eyes and let him guide his erection to her entrance. She gritted her teeth in excitement as his thick hardness pressed slowly into her tight sheath. She was slick and engorged after her potent climax. His entrance was easy, enticing her hips to move against his. They came together in another dance of pleasure.

  Micah slipped his arms under her body and clutched her to his chest as he stroked in and out of her sexy, sultry body, marveling at the feel. She held him in the vise grip of her vagina, milking him. Each push inside sent thrills through his body. Each pull out made him want to plunge back in. He struggled mightily not to be done on the first few plunges, but Zoya was making that hard by the perfection of her response. He needed the feeling to linger, to remove any doubt. She thought he had lost interest in her. That was the furthest thing from the truth.

  She had all of it. Every inch. He sank into her body, grinding together with greater urgency, and Zoya’s arm and hand went up to cup his head to her neck. His mouth opened against her throat. He bit and sucked, licked, moaned, and ground out swear words in ecstasy. His thrusts grew harder and deeper, and his cock expanded; yet, still she held on. Zoya’s soft sighs and gasps of pleasure got louder. He gripped her hips in his hands and held her steady as he got closer to culmination.

  “Zoya,” Micah moaned against her ear.

&n
bsp; She gasped his name in response, squeezing him to her, and Micah let go.

  CHAPTER 18 He woke up with Zoya in his arms, her weight easy, her lithe body nubile. The early morning, late summer sun slanted through the blinds in shards of honey light that illuminated the bedroom and fell across her face, turning her skin a pale brown against his tanned shoulder. The contrast of their skin tones was less stark in such a light. Her closed eyes, heavy-lidded and slanted upwards at the corner with exotic beauty, and her soft, full lips were pressed against the roundness of his arm. Without her hijab in place, many of the differences between them disappeared.

  They were an illusion, he thought. Micah shifted under the comforter and reveled in the texture of the high thread count sheets. It was Sunday morning. As a juvenile, one of the correctional facilities he had spent time in touted religion as a powerful motivational tool to get residents on track to a more positive life. He had spent a number of Sundays sitting in the facility’s Baptist church, listening to a youth pastor preach about forgiveness, love, and redemption.

  Micah had never taken to religion in any more than a philosophical sense. His childhood had been too unstable for his mother, raising a child alone, to bother with going to service once a week or Bible study or even teaching him how to say grace. Eva Whitfield had worked two part-time jobs and juggled five or six men, trying to keep a roof over her son’s head.

  Even in his adulthood, Micah had never pursued any type of structured spiritual awakening experience. He believed in a Higher Power, but not in a dictatorial God waiting to condemn the unwary to hell. He didn’t have room to find sin in every good time. He felt God was Love, and right and wrong were subjective, but a soul knew the difference, if it listened…which brought him back to his current state.

  Zoya’s religious upbringing no longer served to create a boundary between them. She was showing him and telling him in loving ways that she was comfortable, at ease in their relationship, and he was sure she had found some way to reconcile her spiritual beliefs with her love for him. For the first time in his life, when Micah thought about his tomorrows, someone else was in the picture. It would be damn near impossible to re-envision his life without her. So, if Zoya could make the leaps of faith necessary to be with him, then the only thing standing between them was her family.

  Micah wanted no more boundaries.

  She stirred, as if his deep thoughts had roused her. Her silky hair slid across his skin as she gazed up at him with a sleepy smile. “Good morning,” she whispered.

  “Good morning, beloved,” he answered back. “Did you sleep well?”

  “Like a dream.”

  “Perfect, because you needed all that rest for what I have in mind for today. I want to take you out to meet my motorcycle club and show you some of what we do. It’s a small race amongst friends, but it’ll give you a taste of what my lifestyle is like.”

  She sat up in the bed, her hair falling over her shoulder. Her naked skin glowed. Micah felt a clutch of desire, but tempered it, smiling and sitting up to face her. He kissed her lips tenderly. “That sounds exciting,” Zoya murmured against his mouth. “Are you racing?”

  “I am. Zoya, I need you to get a clear understanding of every aspect of my life. That includes my work world and my bike world and my world with you. So far, you’ve only seen the fringes. I’m giving you the opportunity to decide if you can be with a man like me…permanently.” Micah looked down, the corners of his lips upturned slightly. He knew he sounded vague, but he equally knew she could read between the lines. What he intended to show her was what she would be committing to—if she committed to him. Because, Micah desperately wanted Zoya to commit.

  Zoya crawled out of bed, dragging the sheet with her to cover her nudity. “Well, then, I guess I better get ready for this momentous event.” She winked and sauntered out of his bedroom and into the guestroom to get dressed. Micah stretched and got up to get ready, too. She hadn’t declined his invitation. That was a damned good sign in his book.

  ***

  “You’ve seen them all before, but I don’t think you’ve ever properly met them. Zoya, this is my close friend, Quinn DeVry. We actually grew up together.”

  She stepped forward shyly and shook Quinn’s proffered hand. It was something she never would’ve done in the past, but she knew Micah had no qualms about her making contact with his friends. It was okay to shake his hand. Q smiled welcomingly and nudged Micah in the ribs. “I see why you’ve been keeping us from her. She’s a treasure. Nice to meet you, Zoya.”

  Zoya, dressed in flowing robes of dark brown and gray that looked completely natural against the desert backdrop, felt immediately at ease by the welcome. They had taken Micah’s bike out on Lucy’s Long Shot, a place Micah had taken her several times before. It was where she had learned how to handle his motorcycle. Only, this time, the rest of the gang was waiting for them when they got there. At first, she had been nervous that his friends wouldn’t like her. She could see now she had worried needlessly.

  She liked Quinn immediately. “Thank you,” she murmured modestly, dropping her gaze respectfully.

  Micah put his arm around her waist and introduced her to Dante, who pumped her hand enthusiastically. With Southern charm, he commented, “Pretty as a magnolia. Sweet Lord, Micah, you better be glad you got to her first.”

  “Cut it out, old boy,” Micah grinned. “This is Chop. He’s the baby of the family.”

  Chop grinned and waved. His curly black hair fanned out around his face in the breeze. His diamond-shaped eyes looked her over appreciatively. “I hear you’re getting your master’s in physics. You’ve gotta be, like, a genius or something.”

  She smiled. “I’m very studious, you could say. It’s hard work, but I hope rewarding eventually.”

  “I’m in information tech, about to graduate. This is my little brother, Sean. We call him Anime for kicks.”

  Anime stepped forward and bumped fists with Zoya. She giggled. “Nice to meet you, Anime. You must be into graphic novels.”

  “All things Japanese actually,” the eighteen year-old responded. He held up his arms and displayed an anime themed t-shirt. “Me and Chop got the best of two worlds, half black and half Asian.”

  “What’s it like? Do you get to explore both cultures equally?” she asked, curiously. Micah chuckled. It was possible someday they’d have children who could say the same. It was a mind-blowing thought he hadn’t yet considered.

  “Put it like this. I grew up on Jimi Hendrix and Geinokai,” he answered, grinning.

  “And, last, but certainly not least, the lovely Pinwheel.”

  Pinwheel stepped forward and shook her hand, giving Zoya the once over. Her serious face broke into a warm smile. “She’ll do, I guess,” Pinwheel said cheekily.

  Micah rolled his eyes, knowing Pinwheel had really just given her approval. Everyone had been skeptical about Zoya. He could tell his gang had taken to her, now that they had finally met her. “Alright, Crows, let’s get this shindig going. Races are one on one. Winner against winner until the last man standing takes the pot. The pot is set at a thousand. You guys ready to choke on my blowout?”

  The day was a laidback kind of Sunday by the bikers’ standards. They raced and did daring tricks, stoppies and wheelies, jumps and slides that left Zoya breathless with awe. Her heart hammered in her chest each time a near collision or flip seemed eminent, but somehow all of The Hangman’s Crows kept their parts intact, and by late afternoon when the desert sun was at its worst, they called it a day and took her out to the hideout.

  It was a trailer tucked at the base of a plateau, easy to miss, a beige speck against a sable desert. When all five bikes pulled up to it, Zoya hopped off excitedly. She felt a part of the gang.

  “Is this what it’s always like?” she murmured to Micah.

  He unlocked the door and the crew filed inside, taking up seats and digging through the fridge for beers and food. Dante got a camp meal going on the gas stove. Pinwheel popped on
the television. “I’ll be out back, guys,” Micah told them, pulling Zoya with him through the back door.

  They took a seat on the back steps, gazing up at the rocky cliff that loomed overhead. The shadow of the plateau fell upon the trailer, giving some respite from the blistering heat. He swiped sweat from his brow, and Zoya let down her hair coverings, hoping for a breeze. “Most times,” he finally answered her. “Sometimes there’s violence. Fights, rivalries, accidents. It’s dangerous. I admit I showed you the PG version. Some of these biker clubs…they’re more like thugs on wheels. There are drug dealers, human traffickers, extortionists. Mostly, the Hangman’s Crows stay on the right side of the law though.”