by Karen Renee
I opened my door at quarter to nine on a Friday night after a grueling day at WallyWorld. I locked my door behind me, and my phone rang.
“Hello?”
“Hey, girl!” Melissa greeted me.
“Hey, there. What’s up?”
“I’m headed to the Riot MC compound tonight for a big barbecue. Word is that they have multiple chapters in for the weekend, so they’re allowing more groupies than they normally would. Thought you might be interested. It’s been a while, ya know.”
I blew out a sigh, and said, “Sure. I’ll come. Where’s their lair?”
Melissa giggled. “Lair! You’re too funny, Trixie.”
“Whatever you say, Mel. Now seriously, I’m driving myself there, so unless they’re sending up smoke signals or a bat signal, I need to know where it is.”
I hung up with Melissa once she had given me directions to their compound. I grabbed a Mountain Dew from my fridge to give myself a second wind, then I showered and made myself up for a night of hearty partying with some bikers.
I pulled into the Riot MC compound at nine-forty-five. I couldn’t even count the number of Harleys, Triumphs, and Indian bikes parked in front of the clubhouse. There were swarms of bikers in their Riot MC cuts milling about in the front and in the back of the clubhouse. I parked next to Melissa’s Geo Metro just as she was getting out of it. That was all we saw of each other until an-hour-and-a-half later, when I caught sight of Melissa chatting with Cal, Blood and a petite woman with red, wavy hair that hung down to her ass. She was gorgeous, and Blood had his arm around her waist with his hand firmly in the back pocket of her jeans. Roll was nowhere to be found, but I didn’t want to go home either.
I was out of beer and felt the need for a much stronger cocktail. I moved into the clubhouse and went straight to the kitchen to find some food. I knew better than to drink the hard stuff on an empty stomach.
I was putting together a plate for myself when a raspy voice said, “Gonna need more tater salad if you want me to eat that plate.”
Ever-so-slowly, I turned my head toward the voice behind me and gave him my best side-eye. I almost fell over, looking at him. He wasn’t Roll, but he could easily have been a Kurt Cobain look-alike. His light brown hair shone with blond highlights that came from riding his bike, because God knew this guy hadn’t seen the inside of a barber’s shop in over six months. His goatee had the same sun-kissed look to it. I didn’t let myself dwell too much on his appearance, since that would set me to drooling.
Turning my head back to my plate, I said, “Lucky for you, there are a few extra plates over there and you can fix your own. ’Cause this plate’s for me.”
I felt his heat at my back and he was leaning into me so much I saw his blondish-brown hair fall over my shoulder, “You sure you won’t fix a plate for me?”
I leaned my head away. “I’m sure your arms aren’t broken, mister.”
He chuckled. “What’s your name, babe?”
“Trixie.”
He laughed outright. I was getting used to that though. I used to go by ‘Patti’, but decided on a whim to try ‘Trixie’ instead, because something about ‘Patti’ didn’t suit me anymore.
When he was done laughing, he said, “Trix are for kids, don’t you know?”
I put a few more green olives on my plate next to the small scoop of potato salad, and said, “Har, har. Think you’re so funny, don’t you?”
“Well, so do you. Makin’ fun of my road name.”
Puzzled, I turned around fully to look at him, and saw the name patch on his cut read “Har.”
“You can’t be serious? Why would your name be Har?”
A devilish smile split his face. “Short for Harm, baby.”
He had green eyes, and that sandy-brown goatee was even sexier when I looked at it full-on. That was the only night I acted like a genuine sweet-butt. I did anything Har wanted, and for that matter, he did anything I wanted. When he was done, he brought in another brother from his Biloxi chapter, named Brute, and the party continued.
In the morning, I was taking my walk of shame, only to hear a vaguely familiar voice. “You know how to show my visiting brothers a good time. You really leaving so soon?”
Turning around, I saw Roll, with his sleek brown hair pulled into a ponytail. He was wearing his cut without a shirt underneath it. I could see that he had extremely well-defined pectoral muscles. I couldn’t bring myself to respond to him.
He didn’t waste time filling the silence. “Didn’t I save you from the same situation a couple of months ago? Guess that was the wrong move.”
“It wasn’t like that,” I said in a small voice.
“Didn’t sound that way last night.”
“What do you care? You’re not even remotely interested in me,” I snapped.
He stepped toward me. “Don’t go making assumptions.”
What? Now, he could not be serious, could he?
“Whatever. You’ve already made my walk of shame more shameful than it should be.” I turned on my heel, mumbling, “I don’t need this shit.”
An iron grip twisted me around by my bicep. “What do you need then? Do you even know, girl?”
“You,” I said.
“Ha,” he barked. “How old are you?”
I glowered at him and tried to wrench my arm free from his warm grip.
“You can’t even be eighteen. I ain’t up for a trip to the clink for statutory.”
I wanted to spit on him, but settled for saying, “I’m nineteen and you can fuck off. I was wrong about you.”
“How could you be? You don’t even know me.”
I tilted my head up at him. “I know you made assumptions about me.”
“And you didn’t do the same?”
Shaking my head, I said, “Not really. You assumed I’m jailbait. I don’t need that shit from anyone.”
He rumbled, “Hmm,” and then said, “First time I saw you, I pulled three rednecks just out of high school off of you. Second time, you were at an MC party that sucked because they had underage groupies and did not give the first fuck. What was I supposed to think?”
I tilted my head to the side. “Gee, I don’t know. Maybe asking my age, rather than make assumptions!”
He took another step toward me, and I felt like the space was too small. His presence simply filled the area. I was close enough to him that I could smell his scent of spicy cologne blended with stale cigarette smoke. His eyes raked down and back up my body; when his gaze met mine, his eyes were shining. Did looking at me really result in that kind of heat in his gaze? My heart skipped a beat at the possibility.
After a moment he said, “Know your age now, but I don’t know one of the key things most bitches insist on.”
He let that hang, and I realized it was a damn good thing I had spent so much time at other MC parties and biker bars. It used to bother me to no end when a man referred to women as bitches, but in my long search for Roll, I had gotten used to it.
I jutted my chin at him slightly. “What information is that?”
“Your name.”
“Trixie.”
I thought I saw him flinch slightly, but all he said in response was, “Trixie what?”
“Trixie Baker,” I said.
He nodded at me and tucked a wayward strand of my dishwater-blonde hair behind my ear. His fingers grazed my neck and his touch felt electric. “I don’t do sloppy seconds, so I damn sure ain’t gonna be third-string. We’re partying all weekend. You’re around, maybe I’ll be interested.”
I could respect that, seeing as I said nearly the same thing to Iggy with the Devil Lancers MC. However, I did not appreciate that he said, “maybe he’d be interested.” Maybe? I wanted to tell him to stuff it, but I had stupidly fallen for him the night when he saved my bacon from the drunk guys I went to high school with. I looked steadily at the door, and walked past Roll to leave. It took all of my willpower, and discipline I didn’t even know I had in me, but if Roll thoug
ht I’d be back tonight or the next night for a chance that he might be interested, he was mistaken.
Roll
The first time Roll saw her, he was nearly as thrilled as he was disappointed. The thrill came from finding a woman who exuded everything he was looking for in a woman, even if she was a little young. His disappointment stemmed from the fact there was no way she wasn’t underage, and that wouldn’t do. Add to that, he wasn’t willing to wait long enough for her to come of age and he needed her to have far more experience.
She had brown hair the first time he saw her, at the house party, but when he saw her at the Devil Lancer compound, she’d gotten edgy. Her hair was colored in a way not many women could pull off, dishwater-blonde, with bright lavender at the ends, and to his surprise it turned him on. The edgy hair style was her way of telling the world she was hard-core, showing that hardness that he knew camouflaged a supreme soft spot. Roll wanted to get at that bit of softness, but with the number of seventeen-year-old girls at the Devil Lancers’, and remembering where he saw her first, no way he could take that chance.
That morning when he’d given her more shame though? Fuck. It messed with his head, both of them, in the worst way.
He saw the spiteful fire in her eyes when he said he “might” be interested. Regret at his word choice churned in his gut immediately. When she didn’t show again, he wasn’t surprised, but he was pleased as all hell that Har and Brute were forced to settle for other women that night. Even at a glance, Har was ambitious, and his ambition translated into knowing the woman he wanted. Seeing Har disappointed at Trixie’s absence was damn satisfying, whether they were MC brothers or not.
What Roll wanted most in the world was something she would never be able to give him. Not because she couldn’t, and not because she wouldn’t. No, he couldn’t give her what was essential for her to give him what he wanted the most. And, since he couldn’t give her that, he had to hurt them both by urging her to find someone else. Problem was, he was a selfish fucker. Maybe it came from being the baby in the family; he didn’t know and he didn’t really care. He just knew he wanted her, always had, and probably always would, so he would take what she would give…to a point. She was one of the toughest women he’d ever met, which told him it would take longer than with other women, but still, she would reach a breaking point. Until that time, he’d take what she offered and revel in it as much as was healthy for him…and for her.
CHAPTER TWO
Trixie
Melissa said I was crazy for not going back for more after my confrontation with Roll. She called early Sunday, imploring me to go back, because things had been especially crazy Saturday night, and she was certain I’d get a shot at Roll with all the other brothers in town.
Melissa had got her fair share of orgasms Saturday night, but for whatever reason, she was unable to convince Cal to be one of the men to give her the big O. I was happy to hear she had fun, but I couldn’t explain to her the anxiety I felt at Roll telling me I might be someone he’d be interested in. I wouldn’t give him the chance to snub me outright, and I was certain that was exactly what he planned to do to me. What was it they taught me in history class? “Choose your battles?” Well, this might not be a history class, but I knew when to cut my losses. Those history lessons might have been referring to wars and shit, but love was one hell of a battle, too.
I avoided the Riot MC clubhouse for eight weeks before Melissa talked me into going back. It was December, and the brothers were celebrating the holidays a little early. I was dead on my feet most days, because it was December, and Walmart was always full of Christmas shoppers. Luckily, tonight’s party coincided with two consecutive days off for me. There would be no other Riot chapters in attendance, so running into Har was not going to happen.
The party was in full swing when I strolled in at seven-thirty. Melissa was already there, and she was chatting with a short brunette who defined being a “brickhouse.” Her tits were enormous on her petite frame, and her hips were wide, like men liked them. I wasn’t into chicks, but I could certainly see the brothers having a liking for this girl. I ambled over to them and Melissa introduced me.
“Trixie, this is Rainey, or Lorraine. She’s living with one of the prospects.”
I smiled. “Hi. Nice to meet you. Which prospect are you with?”
She returned my smile, answering, “Cary. He’s the one with the gages in his ears and no hair on his beautiful head.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Well, I can’t say I’ve ever heard a chick call a bald man’s head beautiful.”
A dreamy look entered her eyes. “Oh, but he just is beautiful. Trust me.”
I saw who she was talking about and truth be told, all of the brothers, even prospects, were sexy as hell. They were all so damn sexy, it seemed being good-looking was a prerequisite to joining Riot, on top of being tough and always ready for a fight.
Melissa cut into my thoughts when she spoke. “I need another beer, and Trixie, you need your first drink. Let’s go see Rainey’s man and wet our whistles.”
I was drinking my second beer when I spotted Roll. He was on one of the tattered brown tweed couches in the common room with both of his arms stretched out along the top of the couch. Two brunettes were sitting with him. One of them was Rainey, and she had a decent amount of space between her and Roll. The other brunette, though, was pressing the side of her tit against Roll’s chest. I had never quite understood the term “fawning all over someone,” but hell if she wasn’t doing just that against Roll. It was sad, really. She seemed to be fighting to get Roll’s attention as Rainey was speaking. Her laughter was loud and over-exaggerated. Well, if that was what he was into, more power to him.
The back door to the clubhouse clattered, and from the corner of my eye I saw movement there. I realized Blood had brought in a fresh batch of grilled burgers, so I scurried after him to the kitchen. I knew this took me right past Roll, but I paid him no mind. The redhead who I saw with Blood two months ago was already in the kitchen, and she was clearing space on the counter so Blood had somewhere to put the platter. I tried to approach the counter slowly, but the linoleum floor creaked under my weight and both of them turned to me.
Blood flashed a smiled at me. “Long time no see. Har and Brute wondered what happened to you. Guess they hoped to see you again, sugar.”
The redhead tilted her head and cleared her throat in a distinctive manner. Blood looked at her, but was oblivious to her covert communication, because he turned back to the platter of burgers, saying, “Seems they thought you were pretty damn great in the sack.”
Some girls blush when they’re embarrassed, or more to the point, humiliated. I wasn’t one of those girls. My humiliation settled in the dead center of my chest like a lead weight. I should never have done the shit I did that night, but it was the first time a man touching me had actually felt extremely good. Between the cocktails Har and I shared and his talent with his tongue and fingers, I was putty in his hands. The promise of one of his brothers being able to make me feel even better at the same time? Hell, yes. I couldn’t even imagine how much better I could feel. No matter how good they made me feel, though, I couldn’t deny the overwhelming weight of shame that came with it.
My thoughts must have played on my face because the redhead elbowed Blood, and he finally looked at me, then back to his woman, and asked, “First time with a man?”
I sighed through my nose as quietly as I could.
The couple exchanged a look, and Blood accurately said, “First time with two men.”
With my eyes closed, I pulled in a deep breath and held it. Before I could open my eyes, I heard Roll’s distinctive voice say, “Her last time with two men, if I have anything to say about it.”
I whirled my head around and immediately felt light-headed. It might have been because I was releasing that long-held breath at the same time, or it might have been Roll’s larger-than-life presence directly behind me. His statement would give any normal girl some hop
e, but I was not a normal girl. Hope did not spring eternal for me. Hell, it was rare that hope sprung for me, ever. I resisted the urge to hope what he said meant anything and glared at him.
“‘If you have anything to say about it?’” I demanded.
His copper-colored eyes glittered at me. “You lookin’ for more double penetration action?”
Uh, no, I wasn’t, but I would not let a man give me a false sense of hope if I could help it. I heard a throat clear, and I turned back to Blood and his woman. There were paper plates to my right, so I grabbed one. As I moved closer to Blood and the food, he asked, “She with you, man?”
I lifted a spoonful of macaroni salad from a container. I nearly dropped the entire scoop when I heard Roll say, “Ain’t nobody with me. You know that, Blood. No ties. No settling down. Wanna fuck, I fuck with a woman who’s willing.”
Miraculously, I dumped the macaroni on my plate without any drama. I moved closer to the burgers, and Blood and the redhead moved out of my way. I fixed my plate, then opened the door to the fridge. I grabbed another beer and decided to make my way to the back patio for some privacy. The humiliation I felt from Blood mentioning my first time with two men was nothing compared to the utter sense of defeat I felt hearing Roll’s words. ‘No ties. No settling down.’
As I moved through the door, I heard a grumble from Blood, “Abby, no. Not our business.”
I let the door close behind me and savored the chilly solitude of the bare-bones concrete patio. It never failed. The only things I ever wanted in life were absolutely and always the things I could never have. My innocence. My mother. My knight in leather.
Pushing my macaroni salad around on my plate, I chastised myself for the humongous pity-party I was entertaining. Roll was just a man. His actions around me proved he was a good man, even if he would never settle down. I couldn’t have him long-term, but nothing was to keep me from having him for one or maybe two nights. I stabbed the last bites of my food and savored the tanginess of the macaroni salad.
