Bounty

by Aubrey St. Clair

  It isn’t until he steps forward that my eyes lift up to meet his. He’s so close now that the tip of his cock is brushing against the bottom of my shirt. He’s too arrogant, so I force myself to ignore it instead of grabbing it like my instincts and desires are pleading with me to do.

  “Do women really like that jackass attitude?”

  Bash slips his hand between my legs, pressing hard against the warmth that I know he can feel. I don’t stop him, but I continue to ignore it as we stare into each other’s eyes. My God, he has deep and dark eyes. They press back against me, probing almost as deeply as his fingers are trying to do. I’m not sure how much longer I can pretend that I don’t want to fuck this guy’s brains out.

  “You’re here, aren’t you?”

  “That’s despite your mouth, not because of it.”

  “You’d be surprised what this mouth can do. Don’t be so quick to condemn it.” His other hand has joined his first, and now he’s undoing my pants.

  “I thought you didn’t do foreplay.”

  They’re open now, and one of his strong hands is pushing down past my panties and skimming through the shortly trimmed hairs beneath. “I didn’t say that. I just said you didn’t need any.” His fingers reach their goal, sliding across my clit and dipping beneath and between my folds. “Looks like I was right.”

  My breath his heavy now, Bash’s brief touch causing me to adjust my stance slightly to give him better access. If I’m going to change my mind, this is my last chance.

  Who am I kidding? I’m not strong enough to ignore the throbbing between my legs a second more, and he knows it. In one smooth motion, Bash lowers my pants to the floor and then pulls something from his own pants before stepping out of them. I see the familiar flash of a tin wrapper before he rips it open and discards it behind himself. He barely finishes rolling the condom along his cock before he’s spinning me around and pushing me forward. I brace myself against his desk in the same spot that his own hands were in only moments before.

  My breath catches as he slides his huge dick into me from behind. I’m so wet and ready that there’s barely an ounce of resistance or friction as he starts to put it in, but by the time I feel his hips touch the back of my ass, we’re both groaning.

  “Holy fuck, you’re tight,” he says. His breath is hot against my back and followed by a scrape of stubble as he kisses my skin.

  I’m sure a retired hooker would feel tight against this guy’s cock. I’ve never felt so filled, and all I want him to do is fuck me hard with this thing. After a few strokes to get his bearings, he doesn’t disappoint.

  His hips are like a jackhammer, and I do my best not to think about how many women he’s fucked in here for practice. It’s none of my business and none of my concern. He’s right, we both know why I came back here. I came to get fucked. Hard. And that’s what’s happening. And it feelings fucking amazing.

  Bash surprises me by sliding a hand down along my thigh and between my legs, wetting a finger with my pussy and then bringing it back up along my clit. I would have never expected him to care whether I got off or not, and the truth is, with his cock, I might not even have needed the extra stimulation. But I’m not going to say no to it, either.

  Within minutes a familiar shudder rolls through my body, causing me to tense up as he continues to pound me. I let out a muffled scream, pushing my mouth down onto my arm so that the whole bar out there doesn’t hear me. Bash doesn’t stop slamming his cock into me, but he does move his hand away from my pussy and slide it up under my shirt.

  My bra doesn’t last a second to his probing fingers as he flips it up and grabs onto my breast, capturing a swollen nipple between his fingers and drawing another moan out from between my lips.

  “Fuck, your pussy feels so good.”

  I don’t even have any breath to respond. Another orgasm is threatening to overcome me, and trying to squeak out how good and big his cock is just seems like a distraction right now. My pussy is so sensitive now each thrust is causing the tension in me to rise to an almost overwhelming level. I’m holding back, trying to wait until the last possible second to come again.

  As soon as I feel Bash stiffen up and groan, I let myself go as well. I scream against my arm again, and this time I’m worried that despite my efforts, the bar might have heard me. Hell, without my arm in the way, I’d have to worry that my parents in Canada might have heard me.

  Bash’s cock is pulsing inside of me, unloading into the protective rubber as I feel the weight of him leaning down on top of me. His hand is still holding my breast, but he’s not squeezing it anymore, thank God. I don’t think I could take any more.

  I almost let out a whimper when he finally pulls back off and out of me. That was a cock and a fuck I’m not likely to forget for a long time.

  “Shit, that was good,” Bash says from behind me. I can hear him pulling up his pants, and then the sound of him collapsing down onto the black leather sofa that takes up the entire one side of his office.

  I wonder how many girls he’s fucked on that. None of my business.

  “You have an amazing ass.”

  I just lay against the desk, still catching my breath as tendrils of excitement tickle my extremities. I turn my head to look at him. He’s sitting on his couch, chest moving as deeply as mine, staring at my bare flesh. I should pull my pants up, but I’m not even sure I can move yet.

  “You’re welcome to stay for another round. Just give me a few minutes.”

  As tempting as that is, I don’t think my pussy can take another go with that monster he calls a cock. Besides, now that the itch that brought me in here has been scratched, I’m starting to wonder what the hell I was thinking coming here at all.

  This isn’t me. I mean, I can see now what attracts Jackie to men like this. The raw masculinity. The power. The sex. I get it. I wanted to change, but this is too much. This guy is a motorcycle thug. Who knows what he might have done when I got back here? It’s one thing to want to live an exciting life, but another to just be stupid.

  I’m not ready for shit like this. I have a job interview on Monday, and it’s time to get back to real life.

  “As tempting as that is, I’m going to have to pass.” I push myself off of the desk and bend down to step back into my pants. I only hope I don’t have to walk out of here bowlegged. At the very least, I have a story to tell Jackie that she’ll never believe. I almost wish I could tell Edward about it, too. Just to see the look on his face.

  “Probably a good idea,” he agrees. I search his face for a hint of what he means by that, but his dark eyes give nothing away. His mouth is turned up at the corners ever so slightly, but I have no idea if that’s his way of smiling or if it’s because he’s trying to piss me off again.

  At any rate, it’s time I get out of here before he ruins the memory of great sex by running his mouth again.

  5

  Bash

  “Bash, where’d you run off to, man?” Knox has a cigarette hanging from his thin lips. It’s burned down far enough that the glowing tip is only barely visible past his bearded face. He nods to a darkened corner. Jez is sitting on a stool with a few empty shot glasses in front of her, glaring at me. “I think she’s pissed off about something.”

  There were no promises made to Jez, but there was definitely an expectation about what was going to happen tonight. And knowing her, she didn’t miss the fact that when I disappeared into the back, it was with Blondie.

  As my thoughts drift back to her, I quickly glance over to the bar. Gone. The only thing surprising about that is how disappointed I feel.

  “I think she was hoping to get some dick tonight.” Knox is still talking about Jez. He has a thing for her, even if he’d never admit it. I know they’ve hooked up a few times, but Jez isn’t the type to stick with one guy.

  “I’m not up for it anymore. Why don’t you offer up your own services?”

  The biker’s eyebrows raise, the excitement on his face masked mostly behind
his beard but I can still see it in his eyes. “You sure? It looked like you guys were…”

  “Nah, I’m tired. I’m actually gonna hit the road. You’d do both of us a favor. She wants some dick, and I want some shut-eye.”

  Knox pulls the butt from his mouth and grinds it down into the ashtray on the table. “Done and done. Thanks, boss.”

  One last look around the bar confirms my suspicions that Blondie has left. She probably grabbed her friend the second she got back out so she wouldn’t have to face me. I doubt I’ll ever seen her face in here again.

  Probably a good thing. That girl was a fun diversion, but certainly a complication I can’t afford in terms of anything long-term. Blondie is no Jez, a girl I can just keep around as a side fuck and expect no more than a pouty face when she gets ignored. A quick glance toward the back of the room tells me that I’m already forgotten. Jez already has her hand in Knox’s pants as the two of them re-familiarize themselves with each other’s tonsils.

  Having a girl that I can get serious with and not have to share with the club is a nice little daydream, but it can’t be a reality. Not for me. Relationships mean getting close, and getting close means letting someone into my life in ways I just can’t allow. I’ve held on to my secrets for too long to risk them getting exposed by someone else’s indiscretion. I’ve had too many close calls when I’ve only had myself to worry about.

  Besides, even here on a Saturday night I can tell by the way she dresses that Blondie is the corporate type. That means she’s an even bigger liability to me. Hell, just fucking her was a bigger risk than I should have taken. But something about her just pushed my buttons. If I hadn’t fucked her, I probably wouldn’t be able to get her out of my head for days.

  It was great sex, but she did me a favor by leaving. Saved me the trouble of having to go over there and try to piss her off enough to walk out.

  “Bash, what’s up, man? Thanks for last night, by the way. I don’t remember Jez being hornier. I think you really worked her up.” Knox is leaning against the bar, cigarette hanging from his lips, as usual. In the full light of Axle’s during the day, his long hair seems greasy, as well as being tangled, and I can see ashes in his beard. There’s definitely a reason why they keep the lights dim in a bar when it’s full of customers looking for hookups.

  “Spare me the details. Where is everyone?”

  Knox cocks his head toward the door leading to the MC offices and meeting rooms. “Out back by the loading dock. Apparently, a few of the guys made an early morning score and they’re just rooting through the shit now to see what they got. Sounds like a good haul.”

  I feel my teeth clamp together, but I keep my face as calm as possible. What the fuck did they steal this time?

  I don’t trust myself to say another word as I storm away, although I probably give away my feelings by how hard the door to the back slams against the wall behind it as I shove it open.

  I use the thirty seconds that it takes me to walk past the offices and out to the loading dock to breathe deeply, trying to calm myself down. It doesn’t seem to matter to these fucks what I’ve told them in the past, or what my plan is for the future. Some of them just have bad blood, and the only way they can get off is by wreaking havoc. Our club has flown under the radar, for the most part, ever since I took over. Even before that, we were never true one-percenters. But there are too many members these days that would love to see that change.

  No one notices me as I step onto the loading dock. There are five guys out here already, all huddled around an open box and surrounded by even more unopened ones that have already been unloaded from the back of a truck. The ramp of the truck has been lowered down onto our dock, exposing even more crates inside.

  Even though the only view I have are five grinning and armored skulls facing back at me from their cuts, I know exactly which of my brothers are in front of me.

  “What the fuck is this, Snake?”

  My vice president jumps up to his feet and turns around in surprise, while the other brothers just turn their heads and nod at me before turning back to what they’re examining. Most of them should know better as well, but Snake definitely has no excuse for being involved in this. He’s very clear on what our plans are. And yet his face betrays no sense that he’s done anything wrong.

  “Hey, Bash, didn’t hear you come in.” The cut above his eye from last night looks like it might burst open at the slightest touch, and my fingers are itching to test it out. I can feel them clench, but I don’t want to make a scene in front of the others. Not yet, anyway. Not until I know exactly what’s going on. Then there might be a scene. A bloody one.

  “What the fuck is this shit, and who the fuck told you guys to jack it?”

  Snake’s eyes dart back over to the box and he licks his lips. I know that he isn’t completely on board with my long term plan, but stealing a truckload of shit is almost complete opposition to it. Some might even call it mutiny. Is he trying to provoke me? At least he’s starting to look nervous now.

  “It wasn’t me,” he says in a low voice, looking back at the guys as if to make sure they aren’t paying attention. “Ripper went off last night all pissed off. Took a few guys with him to blow off some steam.” He jerked his head toward the brothers behind him and lowered his voice even further. “Couple of them. Anyway, from what I can tell, they all got drunk somewhere outside of town. Near Cicero, I think. Anyway, they eventually ran out of cash, and that’s when they decided to stir shit up.”

  If I grind my teeth any harder, I’m worried I might hear one of them crack. I slowly unclench my fist and bite off the next couple words. “Then what?”

  “Usual shit. Harassing people and whatnot. They may or may not have robbed a small store, as well. But they were sober enough to take their cuts off, at least. They told me that.”

  I let some breath out of my lungs, feeling it blow past my teeth. At least the trouble they got into won’t be traced back to us then. Probably.

  “Anyway, they didn’t head back until morning. It was pretty early. But on the highway, they passed this truck. I guess they decided they weren’t done causing shit. So they forced the driver to pull over and open up the back. Ripper loaded his bike and then drove the thing back here. He left the plates and the driver by the side of the road. We figured we better still unload and dump the thing as fast as possible, though.”

  “Where the fuck is Ripper now?” He’s lucky he isn’t one of the guys crouching a few feet away or I would already have my foot up his ass.

  “I think he said he was going home to get some sleep. You know, being up all night and all.” Snake was eyeing me as he played with his beard, digging his fingernails into each link of the braid as he always did when he was nervous.

  “Go call him and tell him to get his ass in here. If he doesn’t answer, go the fuck over there and drag him here if you have to.”

  Snake just nodded, but I could see the grin on his face before he turned. After what happened between him and Ripper last night, I have a feeling he’ll skip the phone call and go right to the dragging part. That’s fine by me.

  The four guys left are all relatively young. I don’t know which ones specifically went with Ripper, but it doesn’t matter. I can’t fault them. If a senior member tells you to ride, you don’t ask questions, you just go. Ripper is one of the originals, and most of the young guys respect him, if only for that.

  But he knows as well as Snake that stealing a truck full of merchandise is not part of our mandate. Not anymore, anyway, if it ever was. So doing it anyway is an open ‘fuck you’ to me for embarrassing him last night. And that’s a piss poor excuse. Am I losing control of this MC?

  That’s a question that’s been on my mind a lot lately, but for now, I’m stuck dealing with this. The stuff is already here. It’s not like we can give it back. We’ll just need to get rid of it as quickly and quietly as possible.

  Taking a few more deep breaths to control my emotions, I walk forward to the
men and attempt to keep my voice calm. “Hey, boys, what do we got?”

  “Bike parts. High-end ones, from what I can tell.” Zane lifts a gleaming chrome tailpipe in the air and waggles it as if to prove his words. “This is a good fucking score, boss!”

  High-end motorcycle parts seems like a pretty coincidental score. I can feel the blood in my face heat up and I walk past the guys on the dock toward the truck. The loading dock for the bar isn’t that big. It was built for unloading cases of whiskey and kegs of beer, not big boxes from a semi this big. That means in order to see the side of the truck, I have to press myself right up against the wall and edge myself out so that I can lean my head back enough to confirm what I’m starting to fear.

  The bright sunlight is gleaming off of the white-walled side of the truck, and even though I have to squint after the dimness of the closed off loading dock, the big red letters are still very legible.

  Piston, Inc.

  “Fuck!” The growl comes loudly out of my mouth as I yank myself back in. All of the men kneeling in front of the open box look up in surprise.

  “What’s wrong? Cops?” Half of them are on their feet as soon as Zane mentions the police, and one of them starts to close up the box without even looking at me. Another has a hand on his gun.

  “If it was the cops, were you planning on having a fucking shoot-out with them, Jake?” I feel like cuffing the young recruit on the side of the head as I pass him, but restrain myself. My anger isn’t directed at him. Even if he was one of the ones that fucked me over by grabbing this truck. Hell, I can’t even really blame Ripper. I mean, I will blame him. He stole the fucking truck, and I guarantee that he knew and targeted it because of the fact that it was from Piston.