Switch

by Jennifer Ryder

  Since when have I ever cared about what someone else thought? Especially a chick?

  Putting a trembling hand to good use, I spit in my hand and grab my cock, spreading the moisture with my palm from the swollen head to the base.

  I’ve always been a horny fucker, but she does something to me. Is it the fact she’s practically naked in the room directly next door? That I know how frustrated she is, and that she’ll be looking for relief?

  I try to take my time as I stroke myself, visualising Suds’s feet softly padding on the floor as she struts into my room wearing nothing but a scowl, which slowly turns to a devilish smile when she begins to watch me touching myself.

  She slaps my hand away, and pins my wrists above my head, taking full control. She runs her nails over my hard nipples and is forceful with her fingertips as she runs them down to the curve of my hips.

  In one long, flat stroke, her tongue moves from my balls to the head. She takes me deep into her mouth. Fuck me. The vibrations of her moans work my shaft as she plays with my balls, rubbing closer to my hole. Her tongue flicks at my head, fast and furious, greedy for my load.

  My balls tighten. My body stiffens.

  I come hard onto my stomach, pulling every last drop out of me, imagining her sucking it from me.

  I moan out loud, if anything for Suds’s benefit. The relief is intoxicating. Pleasure sinks into me, almost lightening my body.

  I hope she heard me. I want her to know I’m getting off, because fuck knows I’m imagining her doing it. I clean up with a shirt off the floor, and then sink back into the pillow.

  As I drift off, all I can think about is Suds fucking me senseless. I haven’t completely ruled out the idea of opening her bedroom door, but I have to pick my moment. If I were to do it tonight I’d be on my way to hospital, this time on a stretcher.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  ROCCO

  Saturday

  “What the fuck happened to you?” Jones says, as I get in his Range Rover. I know what he means, but I’m not gonna acknowledge it.

  “What the fuck happened to you? I’ve been waiting downstairs for five minutes in the dark.” And the cold breeze this morning is going straight through me.

  “Well excuse me for not thinking you’d be out of bed and coherent.”

  “Well I am, so fuckin’ sue me.”

  “Are you gonna tell me about the eye and the stitches? I thought you were having a quiet one last night?”

  “It’s a long story.”

  “We have a long drive ahead of us.”

  “Nowra’s not that far.”

  He looks at the sat-nav display as we get farther down the road. “Must be some fucking story if you can’t tell it in two hours.”

  Can I tell him? Suds wouldn’t let me out of the car last night. She held me hostage until I swore I wouldn’t say boo about the incident of which we are never to speak of again. I made a promise, and I’m a man of my word, even if some bastards don’t value it.

  I look over to him. I’m not so sure he’d keep quiet on this.

  I can’t tell him. Maybe one day, Suds will loosen up and she’ll share her gem of a story.

  “There’s something else I wanna talk about, anyways.”

  He turns his head and narrows his eyes at me. “Sounds ominous,” he says.

  “I found out something interesting last night.” To say the least.

  “Yeah? What’s that?” he asks, returning his gaze to the road ahead of us.

  “That Suds has had dick before.”

  He chokes on his laugh. “Really? She told you that?”

  “Yup. She didn’t say much else about it, but I’m pretty sure I’ll get the rest of the juicy deets out of her.”

  “What makes you so sure?”

  “I may or may not have a little leverage.”

  “Ah. I see. Now I really wanna know what happened last night.”

  I still can’t get my head around it. Things were weird between us even before she decided to go to bed and play with herself. And then with the hospital, and the sexual tension between us when we got home—fuck, I don’t know what to think. Am I fucking tapped in the head to think that I could be the one to convince her to switch?

  “The one thing I will tell you is that I met Soph’s ex.”

  “The doctor?” He almost screeches, his voice is that high.

  “Yup. Matter of fact, she stitched me up.”

  His jaw drops. “No fuckin’ way,” he says.

  “Way.”

  “What was she like? I’ve never met her. She was always too busy to come out with us as a couple.”

  “Hot as hell. Let’s just say she wasn’t too impressed about seeing Suds with a low-life like me.”

  “You’re not a fuckin’ low-life.”

  “I’m far from Prince Charming.”

  “Why the hell do you do that?” he says, annoyance in his tone.

  “Do what?”

  “Happily drag yourself down and peg yourself like that. You’ve got a brain in your head, mate. I’d kill to know half the shit you do. You have your moments, but you’re a good bloke. That’s why you’re in our wedding party.”

  “You wanna suck my dick?”

  “No.”

  “Then stop blowing smoke up my arse, Jones,” I say, my voice harsh. If he knew more about my family and the fact that my brother is in jail on drug charges, he might tend to agree with me. I keep that shit to myself because I don’t need the judgement. If people knew half the shit that had gone down with my family, then they’d turn their backs on me. I need all the friends I can get … and a job, because I have to support V when he gets out.

  I turn up the radio, and focus on the music instead of my own shit as we get closer to Nowra.

  ****

  It’s a crisp morning, and I feel the chill right to my bones as Jones and I set up the Yamaha marquee.

  “On time, I see,” Mac says, as we start unloading the truck.

  “Hey, Mac,” I say, with a chin lift in his direction. He gives me a fatherly nod, but a smile pulls at his lips. Hopefully that means I’m working my way into his good books.

  I give the bikes a good warm-up before practice, so I know they’re running in top form. The bikes pass scrutineering with no dramas—not that I was expecting any. They’re in pristine condition. Not a scratch on them.

  Today, spirits are high. Over the course of the morning, Stone, Jones and Billy Boy ride well. Billy is really finding his groove. Living on a property and getting the opportunity to burn around on the bikes most days is totally working for his confidence and his fitness. He’s not so much the rookie anymore. He’s a definite contender.

  I make sure I give the boys loads of encouragement, of course, in my own De Luca style. Promising the odd sexual favour here or there doesn’t hurt anyone. Thankfully they’re all as straight as a post, and none of them have ever tried to cash in. I think I’d rather die than smoke another man’s pole.

  ****

  Halfway through the day, I swear I’m seeing things. Jerking off to thoughts of Suds last night is turning me bat-shit crazy. I swear I just saw her twin. Maybe I should try my luck with her and see how I go. Probably the closest I’ll ever get to sticking my dick in the real Suds.

  I shake it off, and finish up replacing the broken clutch lever.

  A wolf whistle screeches from behind me.

  I turn to find the doppelgänger who’s not so doppelgängery after all.

  She’s wearing tight-arse jeans teamed with burgundy Doc Martins. The outfit shows off those legs a damn sight better than the sweat pants she wears at home. Her snug white tank is guaranteed to give me a flash of hardened nipple with a whisper of incoming breeze. She’s dressed simply, yet she looks sexier than any MX pro hoe I’ve seen on track … or in my bed.

  The curls of her long ponytail swish around her shoulder, stalling my speech. She looks me up and down, and can barely hold my scrutinising gaze. Is she thinking about my moans of pl
easure last night? Did she get herself off? That slight blush to her cheeks tells me that I might just be on the money.

  “De Loser,” she says, with an affirmative nod.

  “Oh man, I love that you call him that,” Billy says, waving his finger at Suds as he walks past me.

  “Don’t even think about repeating it, boy,” I warn him, with a gentle nudge to his shoulder.

  He takes a few steps closer to her, and runs his gloved hand over his short brown hair. “I’d get my arse kicked into next week if I called him that,” Billy says, as he struts past her in his filthy bike gear. “He must like you.”

  She fake laughs. I know this because it sounds forced as anything.

  “Soap Suds,” I say, curt and to the point. “Couldn’t stay away, huh?”

  “Ha ha, arsehole. I’m here to support April with her Cupid experiment.”

  “Her what?”

  “She’s set up Eevie’s mum with Mac.”

  “You mean the short blonde woman with the impressive rack he was talking to earlier?”

  “That’s what you noticed about her?”

  “Hey, sorry, but I didn’t happen to catch her eye colour. I generally go with the features that speak the loudest.”

  Suds takes a step closer, creating a weird tension between us. Did she just stick out her chest more?

  “And if I was to ask what you noticed about me, what would you say?”

  Is this a trick question? It doesn’t matter what I say here, I’ll be in trouble. “Judging by my most recent experience, I’d say you have a hell of a right arm. Dangerously good aim.”

  “Be serious.”

  “Babe, I am.”

  She rolls her eyes and shakes her head.

  “And you have real purty green eyes, as green as the moss growing on those rocks over yonder there,” I tease, in the best southern American accent I can come up with. I probably sound like a fuckwit.

  I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me today. I’d bet my life it’s a result of not enough sleep, sex and alcohol.

  She huffs and her head falls back. With her eyes closed, the sunlight bounces off her flushed cheeks as she has a moment of silence.

  “So, how’d they seem together?” She changes the subject.

  “Mac and the tidy old bird? I dunno; they were talking and laughing. I’ve gotta say though, I had my suspicions as to whether he had teeth up until today, but this morning the guy was smiling like he’d been munching hash cookies for breakfast.”

  A soft laugh escapes her mouth. “I’m glad to hear that … not the cookies part, more the smiling. Mac deserves to be happy.”

  “Yeah. Even an old bloke like him deserves another chance to get his dick—”

  “Stop!” she says, holding her flattened hand towards my face. “Don’t say it.” She purses her lips in warning.

  “What, wet? You love the word wet. In fact, I bet you’re w—”

  “Shut up.” She shakes her head, yet a smile teases at the corner of her lips. “So where’s April?” Again with the subject change. Let’s go back to talking about being wet.

  “Your nympho friend is probably fucking Jones somewhere. Those two don’t have an off switch.”

  “Huh. You’re so right.”

  Who knew that monogamy was such a turn-on for some people? If you ask me, it’s fucking weird. I don’t understand it. Jones was the manwhore of motocross, and he earned that title, rightly so. April is a top chick, I’ve got a lot of time for her, but how did he know she was the one? The one that was gonna turn his world on its arse and have him blinded from every other woman?

  I’m happy for him, anyway. Happy for April, too. Speaking of which …

  “What are you girls doing later? We’re going to the pub for dinner once we’ve packed up.”

  “Don’t know yet. I’m sure April will be wherever Jones is. I might just grab a pie or something and then go back to the hotel and get some study done.”

  “That sounds boring as fuck. Surely you can give the books a rest for one night? Stay out.”

  A tortured look flashes across her face. “I shouldn’t, I—”

  “Come on, Suds. I’ll shout you a steak.”

  If I bring her along, I’ll have someone to stop me from going overboard. I think I might be getting out of the bad books with Mac. I don’t need to go backwards. The last time I was in Nowra I ended up in the lock-up to dry out. I need to be on my game tomorrow, because we’ll be back in the factory stripping down the bikes again, and I’ll no doubt have a hundred calls to make chasing parts in the coming days, thanks to Stone’s bingle in the first round.

  “Are you saying I’m too skinny for you?” she accuses.

  “Just shut the fuck up and let me feed you a decent meal.”

  She moves one hand to her hip and pushes it out to the side. “Then will you stop bitchin’?”

  “Yeah, maybe,” I say, with a wink.

  “In that case, I’ll be there. I’ve gotta see you trying your hardest not to whinge and whine.” She pokes out her tongue and then walks off towards April and Jones, who have just walked out of the toilet block together.

  Horny bastard.

  Lucky bastard.

  ****

  After a long day on track, the beers go down well. I hold myself back from slipping drinks in in between shouts, which always brings me unstuck. Everyone is in high spirits, but they are taking it easy on the beers. Now I just need to do the same.

  I sit next to Soph at dinner and watch as she devours her steak with pepper sauce, chunky chips and a pile of vegies. I was successful in convincing the kitchen to load up her plate. I’m glad they came through.

  Suds and April together are classic. They’re so similar—tomboys, not girly-girls. Frankly, if I got on the wrong side of either of them, I would seriously fear for my life.

  “What happened to your head?” April asks from across the table.

  Huh. I knew this had to come up sometime. Jones’s attention is conveniently diverted elsewhere. Smug bastard. I bet he said something to April. I reckon he tells her everything.

  “Funny story, really,” I say and nudge Suds’s knee under the table with my own. Suds chokes on her mouthful of water and takes a few seconds to compose herself. “Maybe one day I’ll get to tell it, but today’s not the day.”

  “Aw, you’re no fun,” April says, with a pout.

  “I have the feeling that you wouldn’t believe me anyways,” I say, and I wink.

  “Why do I get the feeling that you’re involved in this somehow, Soph?” April questions her friend.

  Suds places her cutlery on her plate and pushes it away from her. She didn’t waste a single bite. Victory.

  “You wanna help me carry back another round?” I interrupt. I stand up, and Soph rewards me with a quirky smile.

  “Sure,” she says, shrugging one shoulder.

  “I was seconds away from stabbing you with my fork under the table,” she informs me when we reach the bar.

  A hearty chuckle rumbles up my throat. “I’ll only spill when you give me the green light. I just wish you’d hurry the fuck up.”

  “Don’t get your hopes up, because it won’t be anytime soon.”

  “That’s unfortunate. Another red?”

  “That’d be great.”

  “You know you’ve got purple teeth.”

  “Really?” She bares her teeth to me.

  “Yup. The shade suits you.”

  “Shit,” she says, as she laughs softly. “You know I can always rely on you to tell it how it is, De Loser.”

  “See? Who says you need a filter anyways?”

  She laughs louder this time, more carefree. “For once, I think you’re right.”

  “What? Just once? I’m fucking always right.”

  “Ha. Don’t be so sure of yourself,” she says.

  “I always back myself. Someone’s got to.” Now I sound like a douchebag. No need to go pointing out that I’m pretty much on my own, here.
I know V has my back, he’ll always have it, but he’s so far removed from my life right now I forget that he’s still a part of it. He’s not much support for me on the inside.

  I carry the beers, and Suds carries a glass of red in each of her hands, the other one for April. “You know I heard you last night?” she whispers as we approach the others. I lean in close and catch the glint of mischief in her eyes.

  Now she brings it up? Why not mention it at the bar when we had more privacy?

  “You liked that, huh?”

  “Nice to know after everything that someone got a result.” Her grin grows wide as my mouth drops open.

  What?

  “You mean you didn’t flick the bean?”

  “It would’ve been like whipping a dead horse. There was no way I was gonna cross the finish line.”

  My dick hardens painfully against the seam of my jeans as thoughts of Suds touching herself play out in my mind. It’s stiffening at warp speed.

  “Anytime you need a hand in that department, just holler.”

  “Or moan,” she says, through a giggle. She’s a funny fucker when she loosens up. It’s good to see her relax a little. Most of the time I see her, she looks deep in thought, whether that’s about her studies or other shit. I kinda like this side of her. Less stabby and intense.

  Her elbow rubs against my upper arm as we approach our friends. For whatever reason, this simple physical contact sends a shiver up my spine and more blood to my groin.

  “Jesus,” I mutter. “We need to finish this conversation later.” Because in these jeans, I’ll have no chance of hiding a giant fucking hard-on. I’ll end up getting booted out of the pub, and then I’ll have to take care of a monster chubby.

  I’ve got a right mind to take her back to the bar where we can talk some more. She seems so much more relaxed here. Is it the wine? The environment? Is she not comfortable at my place?

  April and Jones mention something about the wedding, and the girls go off on their own little tangent. I overhear the odd mention of a dress and the name Vicky comes up in conversation.

  “We’ll have to get some suits sorted soon,” Jones says with a nod.