The clubhouse is still packed when I return, more like an orgy than a party. All my brothers are occupied with sweet butts or the hangarounds who’ve come up from Tucson. Dicks getting sucked, girls getting fucked over any available surface. I seek out someone currently unoccupied. Ah, over there, that’s definitely the type I go for. Long, straight blonde hair and legs that go on for fucking miles. They’ll be great wrapped around my ass, she can keep those high heels on too. Breasts a bit on the small side, but fuck, what do I care?
Pausing only to snag a beer from Jekyll, I go over. Now I’m not a modest man, I know I’ve been blessed with good looks and a body girls like. I’ve no fear of rejection as I take her hand and pull her out back to one of the crash rooms, not wasting a second once we get inside.
“Get naked and on the bed.”
Her face flushes at my terse instruction. But shit, she’s come here for one reason, and that’s for biker cock. And yeah, baby, that’s what you’re getting tonight.
“Keep your shoes on.”
She grins. She probably paid a fortune for those. Quickly she dispenses with her clothes—it doesn’t take long, she’s not wearing much. And now she’s naked and she’s lying on the bed on her back, her ribs clearly showing, her breasts looking even smaller now. But it’s her pussy I’m focusing on.
“You ready for me?”
“You going to lick me out?”
It’s late, I’m probably not the first she’s had tonight, so the answer is a definite no. “You’re gonna take my big cock,” I tell her, a demand, not a question. Without invitation, I put my hand on her cunt, checking and finding it sopping wet. Yeah, she likes the man to be in control.
“Now slide those legs up baby, show me what you’ve got to give.”
She does as I say. I take off my cut, placing it carefully down, then slide off my tee. Her head’s turned to the side and I see her eyes widen and she writhes as my tattoos and abs come into view. My mouth twists. “Gonna give it to you hard and fast.”
Her face flushes again. Yeah, she likes the sound of that.
Undoing my zip, I free my cock, slip on a condom, and then kneel on the bed. Her eyes are studying everything I do.
“Yer a dirty bitch, ain’t cha?”
Her eyes open wide as she nods. Her pupils are dilated and her breathing comes fast.
Without waiting a moment longer, I hold her thighs apart and thrust inside, and then start hammering to get myself off. Her legs come around me, trying to hold me close. I use no finesse, but my assault is exciting her. When I hear little gasps and a slight tightening of her pussy, I press hard on her clit, then pinch it. Her cries get louder. Thank fuck she’s not going to take long.
When she goes over I let myself follow, the release that I needed pumping out into the condom.
Finished, I slide off her, go into the bathroom and deal with my shit. She’s still lying naked on the bed and staring up at me with adoring eyes when I return. Like I said, I’m good looking, and quite a catch. Though no one’s come close to hooking me yet, all the girls seem to think they’re in with the chance of being on the back of my bike. But with all the willing pussy on offer, except for the sweet butts who know the score, it’s rare, if ever, that I go back for a repeat performance.
In a breathy voice she tells me, “That was amazing.” Yeah, it probably was. With all the practice, I should know how to fuck.
Ignoring her comment, I pick up her clothes and toss them on the bed. “Thanks for that, sweetheart.”
Her face falls, then she gets the message and starts slipping into her tight short skirt, leaning forward as if to make the most of her breasts. It does nothing for me. I’ve got my rocks off, and now I just want a drink. But I wait, like a gentleman, until she’s ready, then opening the door, gently push her out.
“Can we do that again?” She turns, puts her arms around my neck, her intention clearly to kiss me.
I rear back, having none of that, and tell her quite frankly, “Enjoyed it myself, it was a good fuck. But I don’t do repeats, babe.” And I’m not one to kiss. The girls I fuck may well have sucked one of my brothers off already tonight. And the thought of tasting another man’s cum holds no appeal at all.
But she just stands in the doorway, placing one hand onto her hip, the other she brings to her mouth, sucking her finger in between her lips. It does nothing to tempt me.
“I could make you feel good.”
I’m tired and thirsty. And now she’s just pissing me off. “Look, babe, you’ve got great legs, but not much going in this area.” I point to her tits. “To be honest, you’re really not my type.”
Her mouth drops open as if she’s unused to being rejected in such a direct way, then, muttering something angrily under her breath, storms off.
Jesus. Women! Always wanting to make more of it than what it is. I turn around and pick up my tee and cut. Then it hits me. Why did I tell her she wasn’t my type? She’s exactly the kind of girl who attracts me, and the reason why I made a beeline for her in the first place. What the fuck’s wrong with me? It’s true that I wouldn’t have been up for another round, but even though she’d started to annoy me, it’s not like me to be quite so cruel and blunt.
As I slide my arms into my leather, my hands land on the bulge in my pocket. Shit. I forgot to give Alex her tips. And suddenly my mind conjures up a woman with a completely different figure. I huff a laugh. She doesn’t fall into the category which would capture my interest either. No fucking way.
Chapter 6
Dart
After chasing the girl off last night, I’d gone to the bar and drank more than I normally do, with the predictable result that this morning that I’ve woken with a headache which feels like someone’s banging a drum in my head. Twisting my torso around, I grab my phone to see it’s already noon. Fuck. I hadn’t meant to sleep in so late, not with that money burning a hole in my pocket. What if Alex thinks she isn’t going to be given the money she’s earned? And she’d taken a fair amount in tips, a couple of hundred dollars by the feel of that wad. I need to give it back to her as soon as possible. If she thinks I’ve taken it, she may have second thoughts about turning up to dance tonight.
I’ll call her. I don’t have her number. Fuck. Still holding my phone, I tap it against my mouth and then do place a call. Within seconds I’ve got her address. Now I’ve just got to drag my lazy ass out of bed.
A quick run through the shower, a couple of Advil and a coffee, and I’m ready to go. Not being the only one to have over-partied last night, there’s hardly anyone around as I make my way to the gate. Hyde slides it open, and I drive on through, onto the freeway, and make my way through the city and to the suburbs where her sister lives.
Drawing up outside, I notice it’s a pleasant enough brick home, probably only a two-bed looking from the outside, the front yard well maintained and welcoming. I park in the driveway and make my way to the front door. As I raise my hand to knock, the door swings open.
“Like your bike, mister.” A high-pitched voice greets me.
I knew I’d have to look down, but I have to lower my gaze even further and eventually meet an eager face looking up. It’s a young boy, five, possibly six at most. And my first thought is, fuck, he’s got something to learn about opening doors to strangers.
He must be the sister’s kid.
“Hi,” I start, softening my voice. “I’ve come to see Alex, is she home?”
“Yeah, Mom’s in the shower. Is that a Harley?”
Fuck! She’s got a kid?
“Is your…” I quickly work it out in my head, having to swiftly change the roles I’d assumed, “aunt home?”
“Nah, Auntie Celine and Uncle Craig have gone out to the mall.”
And this young boy is opening the door while his mom’s naked with water running over those breasts… Fuck man! Don’t go there.
Then it gets worse. “Do you want to come in and wait. She won’t be long.”
“Um, yer mom ever
spoken to you about opening the door to someone you don’t know?”
The boy’s eyes widen, and it must have been the tone of my voice as he asks, “Have I done something wrong?” His lower lip trembles.
Luckily I’m saved when, fuck me, Alex appears, dressed only with a towel around her. “You okay, Tyler?” she asks as she continues drying her hair, and only when she’s checked he’s alright, notices at last that the front door is open.
Her eyes and mine meet at the same time. Hers widen as mine narrow. Fuck, I saw her almost naked yesterday, but there’s something about knowing she’s completely unclothed beneath that barely ample covering, with water drops glistening on her dark skin, that makes me feel very uncomfortable. She opens her mouth, I get in first and say the first thing that comes into my head just to get my mind off her body.
“Tyler and I were just getting acquainted.”
“Tyler!” she snaps. “What have I told you about opening the door?”
Her son turns and shuffles his feet. “I know, Mom. You told me not to open the door without asking you first.” Then he adds in an excited voice by way of explanation, “But he’s got a motorcycle.”
I swallow a laugh as Alex tries to keep her face stern. She fails, and steps forward, affectionately ruffling the boy’s hair. “That makes it alright then, does it?”
He leans in close. “Sorry, Mom.”
“Just don’t do it again. No matter what. Not without asking me or your uncle or aunt.”
When the boy nods to agree, she seems to remember I’m here, and now it’s hesitation on her face. “Why are you here, Dart? Don’t tell me you’re firing me.”
“Firin’ you? Hell no. You did great last night.”
She offers a hesitant smile and laughs awkwardly. “Oh, well, I’m glad.”
I continue, “In fact, you made decent tips. You left last night before I came lookin’ for ya and I wasn’t able to give you your money, so I brought it today. Didn’t want you to think I’d pocketed it myself.” Reaching into my cut, I pull out the wad of notes and hold it out to her. She takes it awkwardly, struggling to keep hold of her towel, and for a second, looking at a loss where to put it.
In the end, she offers it to the kid. “Can you go put this in my purse, Tyler?”
The boy’s looking from her, and then to me. He seems reluctant to leave.
I suss out the reason. “Go do what your mom says, Ty, and then I’ll show you my bike, if your mom agrees.”
As he turns and runs off, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a kid looking so happy before. I raise my eyebrow at Alex, waiting to know if there’s any objection. She peers around me out the door, seeing my bike parked close by.
“Look, why don’t you go and dress while I show Tyler my sled. I won’t be takin’ him anywhere. And then we ought to talk.” Her ex might not be trying to find her. But what man lets his kid go? There’s pricking at the back of my neck, which suggests there could be trouble on the horizon.
Looking puzzled, she considers and then gives a little nod. “I’ll only be a moment. Watch him carefully, won’t you?”
For some inexplicable reason, the thought she’s trusting me with her son gives me a warm feeling inside. As she disappears, Tyler comes back, almost jumping up and down in excitement.
“Is it a Harley? I’m right, aren’t I? How fast does it go?”
By the time Alex reappears, Tyler knows almost as much as I do about my bike, including that it’s been modified to have a chain drive instead of a belt to make it go faster. I’m almost out of things to say, and explaining that I can’t take him for a ride, when Alex comes out of the door wearing form-fitting jeans and another of her tank tops, which clings to her tits. Man, that ass! And her breasts must be three times those of the girl I was with last night. And I bet I wouldn’t be able to feel her ribs. I could slide my cock between those tits…
“Come on, Tyler. Let’s see what we can put on for you to watch. You mustn’t wear yourself out now.”
He’s being a normal kid. Full of energy. Wondering whether she’s an overprotective mother, uninvited, I follow her inside. She fiddles about with the TV, puts on a cartoon, and then points towards the kitchen. Leaving Tyler to amuse himself, I follow her, then lean back against the cabinets. She fidgets as though she doesn’t know what to do with her hands, and looks down at her feet.
“Er, Dart. Thank you for bringing the money, but you didn’t have to. You could have given it to me tonight.”
“No problem. The ride cleared my head.” I nod toward the pot on the worktop. “Could do with a coffee, doll.”
She seems flustered as she goes about refilling the pot and then pouring a cup for both me and herself.
I wait until I’ve taken a sip before starting in. “So, Tyler.” As she lifts her eyebrows, I explain my concern. “He seems a good kid,” I say, partly to settle her, and partly because it’s the truth. I’ve not been around many children, three-year-old Amy’s about the closest I’ve come, but from what I’ve seen, Tyler’s polite and well brought up, and any man would be proud to call him his son. Which is the point that brings me to ask, “I can understand if you don’t think your ex is comin’ for you. But what about him?”
As she brings her hands to cup either side of her face, I read in her expression that concerns her as well. “That’s why I don’t want him to find us.” When she looks up, her eyes brim with tears. “Before he raised his hand to me, he was getting impatient with Tyler. I couldn’t risk him taking it further.”
I grit my teeth, having a particular hatred for anyone picking on someone weaker than themselves.
“He didn’t like all the questions he keeps asking. He’s an inquisitive kid.”
I didn’t mind at all. Liked someone showing an interest in fact.
“Give me your phone.” I make a decision.
“What? Why?”
“So I can give you my number. You get a sniff that he’s around, and you call me.”
“I haven’t got a phone. One of the things I left behind and couldn’t afford to replace.”
I begin to think there’s more she isn’t telling me. She left quickly, that’s for sure. What woman leaves her phone behind? There’s a story I’m yet to hear, and one way or another I’m going to get it out of her. Wouldn’t look good for the club if her ex turned up making trouble. Of course, that’s all I’m worried about.
Suddenly there’s a scream from the family room. Coffee sloshes from her cup as Alex put it down fast and rushes to her son. I follow. Tyler’s rolling on the sofa, gripping his leg.
“Where’s the pain, baby?” Alex looks frantic. When Tyler points to his calf, she starts massaging the muscle. The boy’s crying now, tears rolling down his face. I may have only just met him, but his distress is so real it gets me in the gut. Looking around the room, I don’t understand what’s happening. There doesn’t seem anyway that he could have hurt himself. Is it just cramp?
His pain appears genuine and severe, I’m driven to help. “What can I do?”
It’s as though she’s forgotten I’m there, but at my question she turns and nods down the hallway. “Could you run a hot bath?”
“Sure.”
Not really certain why she’s asking, I do as she asks, easily finding the small room I’m looking for. When I return, she’s giving him a tablet and making sure he drinks a whole glass of juice. Then I follow as she takes him into the bathroom and helps him undress. Still hovering, feeling useless in the doorway, she strips off his clothes and, after testing the temperature, puts him in the warm water.
I continue to watch as she gently strokes his head, her action mesmerising. “Breathe, baby. Deep breaths, in and out. That’s it. I know it’s hard, but try to relax.”
As she slows her breathing, the boy begins to copy her, and I find myself doing the same. Gradually he begins to stretch out in the warm water. It’s a while later when he looks up at Alex. “It’s getting better, Mom.”
Alex closes her eyes,
and I see, more than hear, her sigh of relief. It’s as if she doesn’t want to show her own stress to her son.
“Feeling tired, baby? Want to take a nap.”
Obviously somewhat better now, the boy nods his head. Whatever has happened, it’s taken it out of him. I have no place here, but am strangely reluctant to leave. I wait while she dries and dresses him, and then while she lays him down. She’s back surprisingly quickly, but I notice she’s left the door to the boy’s bedroom open.
She startles, as if surprised I’m still here, and I notice she looks exhausted herself as she explains, “These episodes take it out of him.”
I remember the instruction I’d thought was superfluous, that now gives me a twinge of guilt. “He was running around when I was showing him my bike. Was it…?”
“It was nothing you did.” She inhales, and then lets the air out again, and her shoulders slump. She points to the sofa, and as I sit, starts to speak. “I suppose you’re curious.”
I can’t deny it. Throwing a nod towards the open door I can see, I ask, “What’s wrong with him?”
She takes a deep breath before telling me, “He should never have been born.”
It was the last thing I expected her to say. I pull myself up, but her hand on my arm stays my movement. And I thought she was a good momma. Does she resent the kid?
Before I can say anything, she gives me the explanation. “I’m a carrier for sickle cell disease. Ron, that’s my ex, told me he wasn’t, and I just believed him. Had I known… And anyway, that was in the future. I was going to finish my degree and qualify as a lawyer, and hopefully get established before thinking about having kids. Huh, those were my plans for my future.” She breaks off and stares at nothing, as if considering how her life might have turned out. And then continues, “But Ron had other ideas after we were married. One night we were having sex and he took off the condom without me knowing and without my consent.”
I suck in air. To my mind that’s as bad as rape, even if they were married. But looking at her face, the worst was yet to come.
“I got pregnant. But my baby was going to be healthy. If just one of us is a carrier, there wouldn’t be a problem. Ron said the tests were too expensive and unnecessary. But I, I had them done anyway. Even before Tyler was born…” Her voice breaks off as she chokes on the words. “I knew he was positive for sickle cell. I might have not wanted a baby at that time, and certainly wouldn’t have taken the risk if I’d known, but by then I couldn’t think of getting an abortion, even though my poor baby had already been condemned to a lifetime of hell.”
Targeting Dart Page 6
