by Sky Winters
“So how did you get into the whole motorcycle club business?” she asked him as he led her into the kitchen and sat her down at his table.
He opened the freezer and got out the ice tray. Wrapping three cubes into a paper towel, he placed it onto Allie’s knee. He did so without even asking if she needed it.
She hissed a little, but it felt good to have the pain numbed off of her. Her hands still shook a bit from the adrenaline rush and the shock from the fall. “Thanks,” she said.”
“It’s not exactly a business,” he said with a smirk. “But I joined because my friends were there. I guess it was a bizarre kind of peer pressure.”
“Mm,” she said. “But do you regret it?”
“Not at all.”
Once her hand was holding the ice pack, he let go and moved to sit beside her. However, it wasn’t long before he was leaning back towards her. Their lips met and he slipped his tongue into her mouth, gliding it around and finding hers.
She hadn’t been anticipating a kiss like this, but now that they were here she was not complaining either. Allie kissed Lance back and brought the hand that wasn’t holding onto the ice up to his cheek, stroking his face with gentle fingertips.
Before long, the makeshift ice pack was forgotten. He lifted her up into his arms and carried her over to his couch. As soon as he’d laid her down, she shimmied out of her skirt and tights. He removed his pants and shirt and leaned over her, continuing to kiss her deeply and sensuously.
Gripping the bottom of her t-shirt, he lifted it up over her head and sent it floating to the floor. Her bra soon followed, and then he latched his mouth onto her right breast, sucking and biting.
Allie let out a little hiss. She grabbed the top of his boxers and yanked them down. After a dizzying few moments, they were there, naked. Two strangers, making out on a couch.
She did her best not to think of it that way. He was sexy and hot as hell, and she didn’t have anything to lose with him. She wouldn’t be losing money or her heart, and certainly not her virginity… So she gave in to the kisses and sucked in a breath as he spread her legs apart and went between them, thrusting his big, thick, exotic cock into her.
“Ohh,” she moaned into his ear. The couch was small enough that they really had to cuddle up in order to stay on it. And what better way to cuddle than while fucking?
Lance lifted one of her legs up to his shoulder and held it there, pinning her other leg down beside him. He started thrusting quickly, somehow getting his full length inside of her little, tight pussy.
Her cheeks went hot as she felt his cock against her g-spot. Allie bit her lip and erupted into shouts as she came. “Lance!” she bellowed. “Yeah! Yes!”
Smirking at her, he pulled out and lightly smacked the side of her ass. “Turn around,” he said.
Allie was a bit confused, but curiosity won out and she did as she was told, turning over and standing on her knees and arms as Lance plowed into her from behind. He reached out and grabbed her boobs, squeezing and rubbing at her nipples. “Oh, yeah, do you like that?” he asked her.
She did. She hadn’t had sex ‘doggie style’ in quite a while. Her good boy ex-boyfriend never did things like that unless she begged him too. “Mmhmm, yeah,” she moaned back at Lance. “Faster!”
He thrust himself inside her and she gyrated backwards into him, swiveling her hips in time with him. Before too long, he was frantic in his movements. He pulled out of her again and, grabbing her, flipped her over again and resumed fucking her from on top.
Howling, Allie lifted her legs and he bit her left calf. If her knee still hurt, she wasn’t feeling it at all. Her back bucked away from the couch cushion as she came again. Lance threw his head back and yelled. “Yeah, come for me, Allie!! Yeah! YEAHHH!”
She felt him come inside her, his cock throbbing against her pulsating walls. He lay there on top of her for a few moments, waiting for their hearts to stop beating so quickly. Then, he pulled out of her and stood up on the floor.
Eye-to-eye with the one eye of his penis, Allie gave it a kiss. She didn’t know why, it just felt like it needed to be done. She smirked up at him.
“That was wild,” she said. “You’re forgiven for the concrete tattoo on my knee.”
He laughed. “Do you need more ice?”
She shook her head. “I need a shower… Can I use your bathroom? Does it have a shower?”
Nodding, Lance gestured down a hallway off the kitchenette and living room. “It’s not much, but it has hot water, so whatever.” He shrugged.
Allie got up and went to the bathroom, doing her best to walk in an alluring fashion so he’d keep thinking about her body. He smiled at her and went into the kitchen to get himself a glass of vodka and lime.
Now that they were here, Allie didn’t know what to do next. Did she leave by climbing down the fire escape? Did she leave while he was sleeping? She’d never done this sort of thing before, but she was pretty sure that ‘one night stand’ meant that she needed to be gone by morning.
Being a bad girl had been so much easier when she had cocaine to satiate her nerves and allow her to be more loose and crazy. Now she felt the neurotic kind of crazy.
When Allie came out of the shower, wrapped in one of Lance’s fluffy, black towels, she found him sitting in the kitchen with a cup of coffee, waiting for her. The coffee smelled like bananas. He smiled when he saw her. “Hello again. How was your shower?”
Even though he had seen her naked only a few minutes ago, she felt shy about him seeing her in this state of undress. “It was nice…” She felt like planning her escape wasn’t going to work if he was still awake and looking at her like a friendly host. Perhaps she should have vocalized that she’d wanted a hook-up and nothing else. But, then again, he did buy her drinks and food at the bar. She didn’t want to be a bitch about it.
“Your coffee smells like bananas,” she added awkwardly.
Grinning proudly, Lance held out his cup towards her. “Would you like some?”
She came over and took the mug from him. She sniffed it. It smelled like bananas and chocolate.
“Taste it and see. If you want some, I’ll pour you a whole cup.”
Allie took a sip of the great-but-unusual-smelling coffee. “Wow,” she said. “Okay, yes please.”
If they drank coffee, there was a high probability that they would stay awake even longer, thus moving her quick escape to later tomorrow morning. Allie sighed. As long as she didn’t have to see him again, she supposed that she didn’t mind his attention. This Lance guy had turned out to be sweeter than expected.
Smirking, he lit a cigarette and went over to his coffee maker to pour her a cup. “So, what’s your story?” he asked her, carrying over the filled cup and exchanging it with the half-drunk one in her hand. “Are you from Portland?”
Allie nodded, taking a good long sip of her coffee. She was going to have to look this flavor up when she got home. “Born and raised. I’m even a frequent shopper at Powell’s Books.”
Lance laughed. “Wow. I have no idea what that is.”
“What about you?” she asked him, sinking into a chair at the kitchen table again even though she was still just in a towel. Her wet hair was dripping onto her, into the mug and onto the tabletop. She needed to dry before clothes were necessary again.
He didn’t seem to mind.
“I’m from here,” he said. “I’ve spent most of my life explaining, ‘No, not the Canadian one’ to people. It used to be frustrating, but now it’s mostly funny.”
He coughed suddenly and spat into the sink.
“You know, you should probably stop smoking,” Allie said. “Speaking of things you hear all the time.”
Lance ran his fingers through his hair, his cigarette now at odds with his coffee cup. “I know,” he said, taking the cigarette out of his mouth with one hand and sipping more coffee with the other. Once that action was successfully executed, he placed the death stick back between his lips and puffed a
big cloud of smoke.
“I started smoking later in life, if you can believe that,” he said. “I went from being addicted to heroin and cocaine to being addicted to nicotine. Fffftt. But I guess we’re all addicted to something.”
Allie understood that. Oh boy, did she understand that. And she did not need an addict in her post-addiction life.
She finished her coffee much faster than she really wanted to and set the mug down on the table. “Yeah,” she said. “…I should probably get going.” The clock on the wall told her that it was three in the morning. She wondered if that was correct or if he hadn’t changed the batteries.
Lance shook his head. “No, don’t leave so late. It’s dangerous. Here, why don’t you sleep on my couch bed and I’ll make do in a chair?”
Sighing, she looked at the clock again. He did have a point. It was only going to get later… And she had an hour’s drive she’d need to take in order to get home. She supposed the original, unconscious plan she’d had was to stay the night with him. But that was before she’d discovered the past drug addictions.
At least it was in the past.
“Okay,” she said with a little nod, resigned to this new plan. She got out of her chair and went back over to the couch bed, to gather up her clothing and sit somewhat away from him under the guise of doing that.
As she slowly put her clothes back on, Lance watched her. She was a pretty little thing.
This time, she neglected the tights. After all, they had a galaxy of small holes all over one of the legs. She hadn’t landed as softly as she thought at the time, probably because she was so in shock. And so drunk.
Even though she drank a mug of coffee, the alcohol and the stress from the evening were still making her sleepy. She realized that it was a good idea to stay and not go out driving when she felt this way. Lance was so sweet that she could forgo the walk of shame and just simply walk back to her car tomorrow.
Then she realized she would probably be riding on his bike again tomorrow, to get back to her car… She hoped that the ride wouldn’t be quite so bumpy in the morning.
She went into the bathroom again once she was dressed, and hung up his towel. She’d been clever enough to pack a toothbrush in her purse, but she’d left her contacts case and solution back at her place.
Removing the thin plastic from her irritated eyes, she just threw the contacts into his trashcan. They were a nuisance anyway.
CHAPTER FOUR
Suckered In Too Far
Allie’s alarm went off on her cell phone at seven a.m. She awoke, groggy and disoriented before remembering where she was and whose couch bed she was on. Shutting off her alarm, she looked around and found Lance asleep in one of the nearby chairs in his living room. It was one of those wooden, straight-backed chairs, so it didn’t look too comfortable but he had found some way to manage it.
As quietly as possible, she got out of the bed and put her shoes on. Her face was a mess and so was her hair, but she didn’t want to stay longer than necessary. She’d slept in her clothes and needed to get home to tidy herself up before work the following day. Data entry, secretarial stuff didn’t exactly require looking fancy, but Allie was professional! And she looked anything but at the moment.
Cautiously and quietly, she crept to Lance’s front door and walked outside. She didn’t want to wait around for him to wake up, and she wasn’t exactly keen on getting back on his bike right now, so she decided to just take a cab to The Blind Onion. Besides, she wanted to feel like a responsible, rational adult after last night’s craziness.
Gosh, her head hurt.
When she found her car and got in, she remembered that she needed to wear her glasses because her contacts were gone. Luckily, she had packed her glasses into her purse along with her toothbrush. She had used some forethought at least. She wished she’d used more forethought about the exact type of bad boy she was hooking up with but ahh well. Live and learn. It was too late to change that now.
She drove home, glasses on and pedal to the metal. That coffee he’d shared with her was good. She would need to invest in some of that, she thought as she yawned. Flavored coffee made her like coffee way more than she ever did when it was plain.
She was quite relieved to be on the road again, and she was determined to not give any more thought to Mr. Lance Chase DuBois.
Unfortunately for her, Mr. DuBois wasn’t ready to be an afterthought. He apparently hadn’t gotten the memo that one night stands involved one night with the person, not multiple nights. Not dates.
“Can I see you again?” he texted her a day after her ‘drive of shame’ home.
Allie thought that the app she’d used was meant for hook-ups and nothing serious. She supposed that she could have been wrong. In any case, she should have talked to Lance about what she wanted. She realized that now. And now she definitely felt like a bitch, because he wanted to pursue whatever they might have…
“I can’t,” she replied, deciding that honesty was the best policy, even if it hurt. She had to remove the Band-Aid at some point, right? She didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but she couldn’t let him hurt her. She didn’t have a lot of faith in them working out as more than just a one-time thing.
“Why not?” he asked.
She was very glad that they were texting. Actually talking over the phone would be more personal, and there’d be more likelihood of her chickening out and saying yes to something she really should say no to.
“Because I don’t want a bad influence in my life. I used to be addicted to drugs, too. I’ve been doing so well lately. I can’t go back to that. I’m sorry.”
A bad boy looked appealing on paper, but allowing him to take over her life would be too much. He was sexy and kind, but he was also a hot mess. She didn’t want someone who smoked to avoid shooting up, and she didn’t want someone who was in a motorcycle club that did god knew what.
Oh god, she was starting to wonder if she had made a terrible mistake in spending an evening with him!
About a month later, her heard hurt again; like the hangover headache, but worse. Allie was pretty sure that hangovers didn’t work like that. She was about a week late on her period too, so she decided that a quick trip to the pharmacy was in order.
Great, she thought. Getting pregnant from a one night stand is just what I need.
She got the stick and followed the instructions. Sure enough, she was knocked up. By a stranger she had met on the internet. A motorcycle-riding, tattooed, ex-druggie, no less. As much as she didn’t want to, she knew that she needed to go see him again and let him know about their baby.
It felt so weird to even think about it as theirs.
“Hey Lance,” she texted to him instead of just showing up, unexpectedly. “We need to talk.”
She was already getting into her car as she told him this, so it wasn’t as though she would back out if he didn’t answer or said no.
Allie was grateful when he did respond, however.
“Yo, okay. Your place or mine? ;)”
He was joking with her now. That was possibly a good thing. It meant that, a month later, he still cared enough about her that seeing her wouldn’t be an annoyance or anything.
“I’m driving to see you,” she replied. Then she slipped her phone into a pocket of her purse and started her car. The long drive wouldn’t feel so long. The fact that she was dreading their conversation would make time go by so, so fast.
She told herself that there was a chance things would work out well. After all, Lance was a recovering addict, not an addict-addict… right? If they were both getting over the same sort of thing, wouldn’t they be able to help themselves? This could actually be good. The problems had arisen between her and Zach because she was a former user and he wasn’t. He got tired of helping her get over things. But Lance wouldn’t get tired of her… He’d understand.
At least, she hoped he would.
When she arrived at his place, after carefully checking her GPS at every stopli
ght, it seemed, she realized that he wasn’t home. His bike wasn’t in the driveway. Before blaming him for being gone, she reminded herself that she hadn’t told him when she’d be there and she couldn’t therefore assume that he’d be at home all day.
“I’m here!” she texted him. “Where are you?”
“The boys and I are having a club meeting at the onion,” he replied. “There’s a key under my doormat.”
Allie took that as a sign that she shouldn’t go to The Blind Onion and confront him at the moment. She found the key and was about to just let herself inside his apartment, but she wasn’t planning to stay over. She didn’t want to be a booty call, if that’s what he was thinking.
Plopping the spare key into her purse in case she would still need it, she got back into her car and drove to The Blind Onion anyway. She wasn’t afraid of a bunch of biker guys. This was important!
However, when she stepped into the pizza place, shit was going down. There was what appeared to be the endings of a fight happening. Guns and knives were drawn. The air in the room was intense, and smelled more like beer and perspiration than pepperoni.
“Oops, sorry,” she said when all eyes were suddenly on her. The jingling bell on the front door hadn’t worked in her favor. “I guess you’re closed.”
The guy in the dead center of the room pointed his gun at her and scowled.
Allie wasn’t going to be able to just back out of this one.
“Any of you punks know this chick?” he asked the group of other men who were gathered around, standing with their fists clenches and their various forms of weaponry out.
At last, she spotted Lance. He was standing near the front door and he backed towards her a little bit, shielding her from the gun. “She’s with me,” he said. “She doesn’t have anything to do with this.”
“Now I’m only going to say this one more time,” the big guy with a gun growled, rounding on the rest of the group and brandishing his gun in all of their faces. “Vinnie here owes me three thousand dollars… I score for Vinnie, he pays me. That’s how it’s supposed to work.”
