The man cocked an eyebrow. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah. And here he comes, so stay clear, please, and tell them what I said. And keep quiet or you’ll blow my cover. Now smile like we’re having a pleasant conversation and then walk away.”
Riley flicked a glance at the approaching thief, wondering how to salvage this. Disabling the bike was out. He pretended to check his tire pressure while the other guy mounted the R1 and began to leave. A glance at the girl’s father revealed him speaking on a smartphone. Then Riley started the Night Rod and left in slow pursuit, a few cars back.
They wound their way south for an uneventful forty-five minutes. The thief bypassed a major exit to Luray and appeared headed to the end of Skyline Drive at Rockfish Gap. Once there, the thief might go straight onto the Blue Ridge Parkway, which acted like a continuation of Skyline Drive and led into North Carolina, but if not, he’d exit. When Riley did, too, that would almost certainly give away his pursuit, which might become high speed.
Before he figured out a plan, a Virginia State Trooper came up behind him. Riley smiled. That concerned citizen had done as asked. He felt good, having done his little brother a solid favor, but just as he started feeling smug, everything went wrong.
As they neared the first intersection he’d seen in a while, the light turned yellow. The thief went through, but Riley wouldn’t make it. Uncharacteristic indecision struck him. The cop gave no sign of pursuing the thief. The guy would get away if Riley didn’t follow. He revved the engine and charged toward the light, which went red a full second before he passed through. The cop came after, lights flashing and siren roaring to life.
“Shit!” Riley punched the bike tank before him.
He briefly wondered what to do, but the cop was right on his ass, dangerously close, and clearly thought Riley was the issue here. Swearing, Riley pulled over and turned off the bike, fuming with impatience as the cop stopped and took his time getting out. Riley knew better than to get off until the officer was beside him. That’s how people got shot. Up ahead, the thief was turning right onto I-64 West and would soon disappear.
On hearing the car door close, Riley yelled over his shoulder. “Can you come up here quickly please?”
The officer’s footsteps didn’t sound like they were coming any faster. “Being in a big hurry is what just got you pulled over, sir.”
“Can I get off?”
“Just hold on, sir.” The officer stopped beside him.
“Look, my name is Riley Kendall. I’ve been following a bike thief who just went through this light ahead of me. The state police should know all about this by now.”
The officer’s face registered surprise. Then he looked at the Night Rod and glanced after the thief. The cop swore under his breath.
“Stay there,” he commanded, backing up to check out Riley’s license plate. Then he pressed the radio on his shoulder and said, “This is Officer Conway. The stolen Yamaha R1 from Maryland has just been spotted traveling westbound on I-64 toward Staunton from Rockfish Gap. Requesting backup. I will likely lose the rider.”
Riley sighed heavily as the officer communicated with his dispatcher. From where they were, he could see the R1 threading through traffic before a curve in the highway took the thief out of sight. It was gone.
Chapter 15 – Calm Before the Storm
“This place is so beautiful,” said Victoria, gazing at the Queen Anne-style Somerset Inn. She’d been here before but the place took on a new resonance now, with her love beside her. On the last tour, she’d felt a little lonely, thinking of him despite trying not to. This wasn’t her only fantasy about him that had lately come true.
“Not as beautiful as you,” replied Tristan, smirking about the cheesy line, even though he meant it. She shot him an amused look and hooked arms as they walked towards the bed-and-breakfast from the motorcycle. He left his and Victoria’s overnight bag in the bike for now.
The group of riders from CMS had just arrived at their destination near Rockfish Gap, the Somerset Inn being a few miles from where Skyline Drive ended at I-64. Green treetops rolled with the slopes surrounding the bed-and-breakfast, a converted home built in the 1800s. It still bore old-world charm with the covered front porch, arched dormer windows on the roof, and intricate window frames resembling cobwebs in the corners. White trim set off the yellow paint that glowed golden in the rays of the afternoon sun.
The driveway ran past one side to the rear parking lot, beside which stood a back yard lined with a tall hedge and white picket fence. A number of sculptures, fountains, and a gazebo awaited couples looking for some outdoor elegance. Hanging lights overhead would soon glow softly.
“We should spend time out here tonight,” Victoria suggested as they mounted the inn’s steps.
Tristan agreed and led her inside, where they registered like the other riders. The inn’s owners soon sat everyone down at elegant tables for two; the sight of Larry and Rick sharing a table making Tristan chuckle. Scented candles floated in small glasses on each tabletop. A single rose in a stem glass vase perfumed the air. Sparkling wine fizzled. Sterling silver flatware lay beside fine china, atop which an assortment of pastries and fruit tempted the tongue. Tristan and Victoria took turns feeding each other and talking of little things like they’d been doing for days, catching up on favorite TV shows and new bands they listened to. Not much surprised either about their choices, as they knew each other pretty well, even after all these years.
As Tristan and Victoria followed appetizers with dinner, another couple, who hadn’t been on the trip, sat close together over a similar table, their heads together, eyes adoring each other. The woman kept playing with her diamond engagement ring and wedding band. The couple seemed almost like high school sweethearts except that they were in their twenties, and Tristan felt certain they were newlyweds. Their happiness made him feel competitive. That Victoria kept glancing at them wasn’t lost upon him. Now was a good time to make her feel special once again. With their meal complete, he took her hand and led her up to their room, noticing her affectionate gaze. She apparently had similar ideas.
On reaching the suite, which had a four-post bed and Jacuzzi tub, she led him toward the bed and then put his hands on the zipper of her riding suit. With a smile, he kissed her and began pulling it down, sensuously disrobing her. This time she’d worn black spandex shorts and a tight, red exercise bra underneath. Tristan sported his usual jeans and t-shirt, the riding jacket hanging downstairs with their helmets. He remembered they needed the overnight bag from the bike, but first they could fool around.
As Tristan tugged off her suit, she decided to ask a question on her mind and, though this wasn’t the best time. She just wanted to get something else out in the open.
“So I have to ask,” she began, pulling off his shirt, “how do you feel about having almost been a father?”
He hesitated while she kissed his neck. “Kind of a tough question. Are you asking if I want to have kids one day?”
“I guess so, yes.”
“Of course. I came from a big family so it’s normal to me.”
She undid his belt buckle and started on the pants. “Would you be disappointed if you never had one?”
“Yeah, absolutely.” He gave her a look. “Why? Did the miscarriage make you unable to?”
“No, no. Nothing like that. Although if you have one miscarriage, another one is a little more likely.”
“I didn’t know that. What about you? Do you want kids?”
She pulled his pants down and off. “Yeah, at least one, if for no other reason than because it’s one of those life experiences to have.”
“I hadn’t thought of it that way. Speaking of life experiences…” He leered at her and pulled her clothes off so they stood bare. Then he pulled her close.
“One last thing I have to say,” she began, “is that I really wouldn’t want you to still be racing if we had a child.”
He gave her a long look. “Because if somethin
g happens to me, then what happened to you happens to our kid?”
“Exactly. I know we’re talking about you retiring now, but if you didn’t, would you retire if I got pregnant?”
He smirked. “Are you trying to tell me something?”
She laughed, nipples bouncing against his chest. “No, I’m not pregnant.”
“Well, I think that’s something I could do for you. For us. For the baby. I wouldn’t want that to happen either, and there comes a point where you sacrifice for a greater cause.”
She ran her fingers through his hair and whispered into his ear, “Do you want to practice making babies?”
Their lips gently crushed each other, soft moans filling the room. Tristan lowered her to the bed, his probing fingers causing trails of fire on her belly. She pressed her breasts into his chest, hard nipples aching. His half-closed eyes saw the nape of her neck and he had to taste her there. He nipped at her throat and then buried his face in her lush, velvety mounds. She slid one hand into his hair, holding his face down while he nuzzled. With her pert nipples straining for attention, he surrounded one nipple with his warm, wet lips, his tongue flicking the tip. A man could die happy there.
She moaned. “Riding that bike all day got me all horny. I want to ride you now.”
“I love how hot you are.” Tristan fondly remembered the days of her being this hot all the time and swore he’d keep her that way for eternity. No winner’s circle in racing compared to the thrill of Victoria.
“You made me that way.”
Suddenly Victoria wrapped her legs around his waist and then forced him onto his back while she straddled him, gripping his cock behind her in one eager hand. She lifted up, tits jiggling, and rubbed the soaking folds of her hot pussy against his throbbing dick. She lowered herself in one smooth motion, taking the full length of him. Her pussy pulsed with pleasure, her heart fluttering. Hours of being horny had made her almost permanently ready for his manhood’s arrival. Moving side to side, Victoria ground her clit into his pubic bone, sending jolts of pleasure down her legs and up her belly to her nipples.
“Oh, God, I love fucking you,” Victoria moaned.
“Show me,” he huskily replied.
She began thrusting up and down, crashing their pubic bones together, making the bed’s four wooden feet slide back and forth on the hardwood floor. Bolts of pleasure coursed through his crotch, her juices dripping down his balls, in between his legs, and over his perineum, tickling him. Tristan pulled her down on top of him as one hand snaked around her back, capturing her. The other hand went into her hair as he tasted her lips. She moaned into his mouth as he began thrusting up and down like a jackhammer, balls flying with the jackrabbit motion, cock plunging in and half-out.
He would conquer her, he knew. There’d be no escape. Not from this. From the way she slumped into him, held fast by his iron grip, he knew time would make her surrender.
He slowed, knowing the sensitivity would rise with some gentleness. His lips parted, his tongue darting into her mouth, one hand reaching for her ass, which he squeezed to elicit a moan. He pulled the hand back and gave her a good smack on the butt, the rush of pain and adrenaline making her stiffen, more blood engorging her privates. Another smack. Another moan. He reached down with both hands and pulled her cheeks apart to make her feel more vulnerable. Then he began fucking her hard again, ravishing her.
Victoria held on for dear life and screamed into a pillow as she came, jolts of fire spreading to her toes and scalp. Tristan slowed, grinning into her silky hair as she kissed at his neck, helpless atop him. Then his breath caught as an irresistible urge grew. He buried his cock deep inside Victoria as an orgasm ripped through his balls and out his cock, pumping his seed far into her. His lean frame arched off the bed, muscles in his legs and back spasming. Then he collapsed, breathing hard, his cock still throbbing inside her, euphoria making him feel delirious. He turned her face to him so she could see his adoration and sincerity.
“I am yours forever,” he whispered, “if you want me.”
In reply, she shuddered and melted into his lips.
Chapter 16 – The Price of Lust
In his room on the second floor, Rick stood watching his mistress, Jane, struggling to bring his cock to life. Despite her difficulty, her skills in this area far exceeded those of his wife, who wasn’t a huge fan of oral delights. Or much else, for that matter. That sex life had once been pretty good, but that wasn’t why he’d married Mindy, which was just as well, because with how often he got laid by her now, it would’ve been grounds for divorce.
As it was, he got his kicks with Jane, a black-haired vixen who’d surprised him with her interest when they’d met. He hadn’t thought a girl in her mid-twenties would go for a guy pushing fifty. He knew those May-December romances happened but didn’t think he’d ever have one.
Besides, he wasn’t the sort to cheat. Or at least, he hadn’t been, but times change, and so do desperate men who are lonely, unappreciated, and a little upset. Though he wouldn’t have traded his kids for anything, their arrival had slowly caused the departure of his sex life. And, eventually, his resolve to be faithful.
The first time he’d cheated with Jane, he’d felt horrible and almost confessed to Mindy, but the sight of his kids, ages eight, six, and four, had stopped him. Why destroy their lives? Mindy would’ve won custody in the likely divorce that would’ve followed, and the idea of not seeing them often, or ever, killed him. Nothing was really working for him anymore, it seemed. Even his booming business sucked due to the meddling of those with leverage on him.
The five-year affair with Jane had started off as just sex, but his love for Mindy had faded while affection for Jane had grown. He’d romanticized Jane in his head a few times, remembering that rush of love he hadn’t felt in so long. He’d also fantasized about divorcing Mindy, but he wasn’t giving up the kids, house, and maybe even CMS, for a monthly tryst with someone who didn’t love him. While Jane put on a good show of enjoying their time together, something told him it would never be more than that, his tepid advances for more rebuffed quite smoothly more than once. He’d given up on that a while ago, lest he ruin even the affair. His fantasies about Jane made him feel less lonely but also reminded him how unhappy he was. Sometimes even the sex depressed him, like now, since he couldn’t help thinking this was supposed to be Mindy, a woman who’d apparently lost all desire for him.
While Jane worked her lips and tongue along his limp penis, Rick eyed a bottle of little blue pills on the nightstand. He hating needing Viagra, but pride had slowly fallen away, like his honor and integrity. Something had cost him his manhood. He’d never had trouble getting a boner before the affair and wondered if guilt was behind it. Only getting caught could make life worse, but maybe he deserved it.
As if his thoughts had summoned one of those people with their hooks in him, he gazed out the window to see a blue Yamaha R1 sport bike pull up. One side of it showed two stickers that looked remarkably like those on Tristan’s bike, but he knew that was still under a tarp back at CMS. The rider wore all black and dismounted before pulling off the helmet, which had been painted to resemble a cobra’s head. With a start, Rick recognized Derek, an enforcer from New Jersey who randomly checked in on his operations.
“Stop,” said Rick, pulling Jane’s lips from his penis. She looked up in disappointment.
“Wanna try something else?”
Rick shook his head. “Something’s come up.”
Looking at his limp cock, she replied, “I assume you mean something else.”
He frowned at her and pulled up his boxers, then jeans. “We’re about to have company. Make yourself presentable.”
Jane glanced at the window as she rose but didn’t look through it. She took a tissue, patting her lipstick before reapplying, but otherwise changed nothing. Rick paced back and forth, wondering what the hell Derek was doing here. Then someone knocked on the door and he opened it to see the new arrival looking a lot more re
laxed than Rick felt. Derek didn’t wait for an invite before entering and shutting the door behind him.
“Jane,” said Derek in greeting. She frowned at him, but it was Rick who spoke next.
“You know each other?”
“Sure,” said Derek, flopping down on an upholstered chair, the floral design on it at odds with his black leather. His jacket opened enough to reveal a gun in a shoulder holster. From the way he lounged, Rick suspected this was on purpose as a subtle reminder of the forces working against him. Derek asked, “Who do you think introduced you?”
Jane rolled her eyes and seemed none too pleased to see Derek.
Rick looked at them in confusion. He’d met Jane at this bed-and-breakfast when her dinner date had stood her up. Derek hadn’t even been here. In fact, as far as Rick knew, Derek had never been here before. Suspicion crept over him. Had Derek sent her? It seemed far-fetched, even for those in organized crime.
Unsure what to think, he just asked, “What are you doing here, Derek?”
“You know I like to check up on you, see how our affairs are going.” He smirked.
“You’ve never done it here.”
“Yeah, he has,” said Jane, “just not with you.”
Derek snidely blew her a kiss and Rick went cold. Something about their exchanges made him certain they were having sex, too, and that Derek was behind Rick’s relationship with Jane. He looked back and forth between them and a worse truth struck him like a blow.
“You set me up,” Rick said to him.
Derek winked.
“You told her to meet me here the first time,” Rick said. When Derek didn’t disagree, Rick put the rest of the pieces together. “Were you the one who took the pictures of us so you could threaten to show them to my wife? And use that to get me to agree to be part of your stolen bike operation?”
“Nope. I prefer shooting a gun to a camera. I just hired the guy.”
Tristan (The Kendall Family #1) Page 13
