by Nicole Snow
PROPERTY OF RABID was etched on the back perfectly, a brand matching what she already had on her skin. The girl was a proper old lady now, and she was mine – all mine.
Christ.
“Fuck, you're beautiful. You sure you don't wanna skip the hog roast and hop in bed right now?”
She grinned and folded her arms. “Rabid – come on. You know your friends are waiting.”
Damn it. She was as right as she was fucking hot. I helped tuck the helmet on her head and sat her sweet ass behind me. I'd have to settle for a quick blow in my old room at the clubhouse if I got her drunk enough.
Her little hands clung tight to me as we rode. It was our first time visiting the clubhouse as a real couple, and my last as a man living there. The deposit I'd put down on renovating the old family ranch was going through next week.
It was the place I'd brought her when we had our first serious talk, our first kiss. Grandpa gave it up years ago before he died, and ma didn't have any interest in all that work. I liked to visit the place when I needed to think, really sort shit out.
Never expected it'd help me sort out my whole damned future by landing me this girl. I couldn't wait to fucking surprise her when it was all fixed up. It was just a matter of days 'til we had ourselves a quiet, private place to settle down and figure out the rest of our lives.
The work was the hard part, but it was mostly being done by the crew I'd hired. My shit would be easy to move out, seeing how I'd never had much time for a buncha shit except my bike and a few trinkets.
Christa's move later in the month would be tougher, but I was game. Anything to get her in my bed permanently. Not to mention a nice big place where she could set up a room for her tutoring gig – assuming we were gonna hold off a few more years on starting a family.
Roaring down the road, I couldn't stop thinking about it. The fire in my blood said this girl was gonna have a ring on her finger by the end of the year. And when that happened, I was planting my seed deep, unprotected, carving out a future and claiming her the last and greatest way I could.
She leaned in and kissed me on the cheek when we rolled into the garage. “Try to be good. You know I'll put out later. I just want to have a little fun first.”
I shrugged, trying to tame the lust rippling in my blood. The girl had a point. Straining dick aside, it was a special night for the club, and that made it a special night for me too.
We'd been through some serious shit the last few months. This was our chance to cut loose and fuck around like brothers, temporarily free from worrying about whose machete might be swinging at our necks.
The music was thumping something fierce by the time we got inside. Classic rock blasted out the new speaker system Brass had installed, throbbing so loud you couldn't have heard an engine snort inside the place.
Hang arounds, whores, and brothers stood around drinking in big groups. I pulled my girl forward, giving the evil eye to any of the fuckers who tasted her with their looks before they saw the brand on her back. They wouldn't have tried shit, especially because I was a full patch member, but my psycho jealousy didn't know any better. When they caught what either of us had on our leather, they slunk away like dogs with their tails between their legs.
I'd been around guys in the past who shared their girls. I couldn't imagine that shit no matter how hard I tried. It was bad enough thinking about putting my dick in anything less perfect than her – but giving this pussy to another man?
Fuck. That.
Gray haired Southpaw served us some beers with Jack generously splashed into the bottles. I laughed when Christa took her first swig and coughed. The chick had been away from this shit for too long.
“What's wrong, baby? You need something sweeter, maybe a little weaker?”
Her brow furrowed. “Nope. Just getting my taste buds used to this life again.”
“Come on. I saw the way you slammed it at the resort. Lemme see you channel that shit again.”
She nodded, gave me a mischievous wink. I watched her tip the bottle straight up. She guzzled the whole fucking thing almost as fast as one of the guys. Hmmm, maybe it wouldn't take much to get her back in the lifestyle after all.
“Impressive. You'd better slow the fuck down, babe. The night's young, and I've got a couple things to do with my brothers before they're too busy getting their dicks wet.”
“Christa! Oh my God! You're finally wearing his patch!”
As if on cue, Missy came strutting over, Brass at her side. She flicked her chestnut hair over her jacket and gave my girl a sloppy hug, laughing the entire time. Brass and I grinned. The two girls squealed, flapping their hands and swaying like sisters who hadn't seen each other for years.
The sweetest girls went to pieces at these things when they got some liquor in their bellies and a little excitement. We knew we'd both have to keep an eye on our chicks to keep 'em in line. These club gatherings were about more now than slamming as much Jack as we could into our guts and dragging the closest whore off to our rooms to fuck.
“You ready for that rematch with Asphalt, brother? I saw him an hour ago. He's already pretty sauced. I think you'll have the edge this time.”
“Good. I'll beat his ass if he fucks up and puts his dart through the club standard this time.”
Brass laughed. “Whatever, dude. Just make sure neither Blackjack or me see that shit.”
He waved his hand and our prospect, Stryker, came over to meet us.
“Make sure our girls stay safe and don't trip on anybody's dicks,” the Veep growled. “I've seen guys at these things who are dumb enough to try to get their hands on a brother's old lady. You let us know right away if it's going that way so we can beat the fucker blind.”
Stryker nodded and took off, running after the two gabbing old ladies. My blood surged, same as Brass', judging by the look in his eyes. Our girls could be trusted, but some of the other fucks who attended these giant club parties couldn't. And if anybody laid a finger on our women, we'd be in a fucking race to break the asshole's nose.
“Come on. We'll let 'em have their fun. It's been a rough few weeks. Everybody needs to blow off some steam.” Wise words from my closest brother.
We headed for the dart board, where Asphalt was already waiting, his bald head flecked with sweat from the Jack burning in his veins. “Fucking finally. I've been waiting for you guys.”
Brass went to retrieve the darts. When he returned, Asphalt hiccuped. We both laughed. This was gonna be easier than I thought.
Or maybe not.
The first few tosses had us about equal. The digital score counter always tried to fade the fuck out while it was counting, so I walked over and gave the machine a good whack.
When I came back to my spot, Blackjack was lined up next to the wall, a drink in his hand, watching us. Oh, fuck.
Having the Prez playing spectator wasn't in the plans. Why couldn't he just skip off to the shadows? Did this guy ever fuck? Whores were everywhere tonight, ready to hop on any cock attached to a full Grizzlies patch – not that I could blame anyone for laying off the whores after what happened with Red.
The heat was on. Asphalt felt it too. He fucked up his next two throws, swore as I took the lead. I was just a couple good hits away from finishing his ass off.
I didn't even realize the crowd was growing larger 'til the end. When we were down to the final stretch, Missy and Christa were next to Brass, looking on and laughing with excitement in their eyes.
“Asphalt! Asphalt!” a couple guys screamed, local loudmouths trying to suck up to get their prospect patches faster.
The girls started to cheer me on. I was about to throw my dart when I paused and looked at the big guy standing in the corner. Roman kept his distance from everybody, a big pool cue in his hand like a spear. He gave me a silent, dark nod.
Fuckin' fancy that. Never thought I'd see the sleeping volcano of a man giving me his endorsement.
By my last throw, I was starting to match Asphalt's drunkenne
ss with the Jack fogging up my brain. But something magic was in the air that night. I jerked forward, watched it cruise like a missile toward the very center. Perfect strike.
Growling, Asphalt punched the machine as it struggled to display the score. It came back a perfect zero.
Christa squealed and collided with me. Brothers circled, slapping me on the back. I couldn't say no to smashing my lips on hers. I smelled and tasted pure whiskey. Fucking shit, how much had my girl had?
Still, it was good to see her come unraveled. My hands roamed her back, wishing they could rip everything off except her new leather jacket.
Whatever, we'd be fucking later with nothing but her brand draped around her. Guaranteed.
I let go of her and spun. Came face to face with Asphalt, looking like a pissed off bull. I thought the crazy asshole was going to hit me for a second, but his hand shot out instead.
“Good game, brother.”
I took it, gave him a ferocious squeeze. “You know it, bro.”
Behind him, Blackjack was smiling. The old man might be a savage SOB, but he obviously enjoyed the times when we solved shit with brotherly handshakes rather than bloody fists.
Next thing I knew, Christa was tugging on me, dragging me through the crowd. We grabbed some food and more drinks. We hit the tables, carving out a little place for ourselves. Just in time for the real rowdy shit to start.
Christa's eyes popped out when she saw the whores coming in a big conga line, wearing the skimpiest shit this side of nothing over their tits and pussies. They found brothers, prospects, and local hang arounds, sometimes three girls to one man.
Mouths sucked. Tongues whirled. Hands grabbed asses everywhere.
It didn't do shit for my dick 'til I looked at the woman in front of me. Brass must've had a similar reaction, because him and Missy were behind her, laughing and sharing a bottle.
“Do you ever miss those days, Rabid?” Christa asked.
“Fuck no. Not since I got you. You really think I haven't learned my lesson about who I'd better sink my dick into after a bitch I used to fuck tried to kill us?”
She laughed and shook her head. “Well, if you ever start to feel nostalgic, you need to let me know...”
“Baby, you can be my slut any time. That's part of being my old lady. Long as I've got that pussy on demand, any way I want it, leaving you absolutely fucking breathless, we're gold.”
Fuck, my dick was about to pop. I flexed my fists on the table, then reached for her hand. She was so warm, so hot with all that whiskey in her veins. My cock jerked, wondering if her pussy would feel that much hotter wrapped around me tonight.
Shit, shit. I wanted to drink more to numb the lust building in my blood, but that would mean we'd have to wait longer to blow this place. The fun was mostly over with all the brothers about to become real scarce, disappearing to a quiet corners with their girls or their bunk rooms.
“Come the fuck here.” I walked over to the table and grabbed Christa off her chair, sat her on my lap, one hand squeezing her thigh the way I used to do to my whores.
We kissed. Long. Hard. Deep.
Yeah, there was no doubt or longing about the past. This was right. This made me feel better than anything else I'd enjoyed in my life.
A few tables over, Brass and his old lady were getting down to it too. Missy suppressed a moan. I saw his hand slide down her pants. I had to look away – seeing that kinda shit fed the beast inside me, and he was already on a short chain.
“We gotta walk, baby. Right now. Or else I'm gonna rip your pants off and fuck you on this table.”
Shit! Something about my warning only made her kiss me harder. Tease. I had to push her away and keep a gap between us as we got up and walked. Otherwise, I'd have done exactly what I threatened, and I wouldn't have given a shit who the fuck saw it.
We walked through the bacchanal as the clubhouse got crazier. Had to step over half naked, totally drunk couples rolling on the floor in a few places. Drunk or not, the guys who weren't full patch brothers cleared the way when they saw me coming through with my bottom rocker.
“Rabid? Are we ready yet?” I smiled at her purring the question into my ear. The girl was cute as fuck when she was drunk, but damn if I'd put too much away without realizing it.
“Another hour or two, babe. I'm not risking us on my bike 'til I shake this shit outta my system.” We took the long route back by the bar. I downed some water and passed her a cup too. “Drink it, or you're gonna feel like shit tomorrow.”
She giggled. I watched her suck long sips down her throat, and nodded when she did. Good.
We headed for the game room, a quiet place where I figured we could cool our heels 'til I was good to drive – assuming nobody else was in there fucking. I opened the door and heard a slap like a gunshot.
Roman was the only man in there, standing next to the pool table, watching the balls he'd smacked rolling toward their slots. He never even looked at me.
I guided Christa over to a chair and told her to chill. Maybe she'd be over the giggle phase by the time we were ready to go. Last thing I needed was her falling all over the place without me to hold her up.
“Thanks for your support during the dart game, bro.” I slapped Roman on the back.
The giant stiffened, stood up tall, and looked me right in the eye. “Better you than Asphalt.”
Nice.
Why the fuck did this guy set everybody on edge? I seriously wondered what would ever knock the chip off his bison shoulders.
“Hey, Roman,” I said, making sure to keep my distance with the table between us. “I know about the blonde. Is she the reason you're not out there taking shots and having Twinkie suck you off?”
The pool cue whipped up. He slapped the blunt end on the floor and gave me another dead-eyed stare. “That's nobody's business, brother. Not even mine. I'm sorry you were the only one who had to sneak a peek at that fucking sideshow. Told you already – we're nothing.”
Right. Where the fuck have I heard that before?
I looked at Christa in the corner. She was struggling so hard to hold her head up without laughing or falling asleep. I'd driven all the resistance outta her, and the love bug embedded itself underneath our skin, even when it looked like it was a million miles away. I had a crazy feeling Roman and the mystery chick were next on the list.
“If you say so, bro. If you decide to change your mind, I'm here for you. Just shout any time you need a favor. I owe you one.” His eyes were back on the table. He didn't say anything. “I'm not talking about the darts neither. You saved my ass and helped whip me in line. I fucking hated your ass at the time, but now I appreciate it. Without you, I might not have an old lady at all.”
He grunted, all I'd get from him acknowledging I'd said a damned thing. I shrugged and started to walk, leaving him to his solitary, moody bullshit.
There was an old deer hunter arcade game in the corner. I was still feeling the fucked up buzz in my veins, and I sure as shit wanted to give the bastard at the pool table his space. I grabbed Christa and walked her over. Drew out a few quarters and pushed the plastic rifle into her hands.
“Come on, baby. Let's shoot some fucking animals.”
We played for an hour. It was strange to put so much effort into hitting make believe shit on screen after I'd put more bullets into human heads than I wanted to count. I did my best, hit a few targets through the drunkenness, growling when I found my mark. I thought about Big Ed, Rip, and all the other motherfuckers I'd sent to hell each time I pulled the trigger.
Christa laughed her way through it. She missed most of the deer, but bagged a grizzly bear instead.
Why the fuck do we got a game where we're killing our club's symbol? I wondered.
Some things were meant to be mysteries. It wasn't important – seeing my old lady happy was. She didn't show a bit of trauma in her eyes when she pulled the trigger. I worried killing Red would fuck her up, especially when it was up close and personal.
But that bitch deserved to die. We both knew it, and there was nothing to regret.
By night, the buzz wasn't pulling at my brain anymore. I was ready to get the fuck on my bike and leave. Didn't think I could take another round of listening to Roman growl while he smashed the billiard balls together.
“You feeling better, baby?” I asked, helping her stand up.
She nodded, and so did I. “Good. Let's get the fuck outta here.”
She'd gotten the giddiness outta her system. We were roaring down the highway, heading back into Redding proper, and I'd chosen to take the long way underneath the wide summer sky.
The full moon didn't help the crazy shit I had surging in my blood. I wanted nothing better than to jerk this bike to the curb, throw it in park, and fuck her right here on the ground. My balls churned each time she rubbed her soft hands up my abs, hugging me tight, close enough to feel my pulse.
Fuck it.
Tonight was too damned perfect. Nights like this were rare in any man's lifetime. I turned down a service road and growled at her to hold on tight. I'd find us the perfect spot.
It was right there in a clearing by the trees. I slowed my bike. The wheels only chugged a little when I guided it off road, kicking up grass and dirt in its wake.
Christa's squeeze on me tightened. I grinned, but it wasn't half as tight as the pull jerking at my dick, turning it into a fucking pike.
“Rabid? What's up? Why're we –“
I killed the engine and jumped off, turning to face her. “We're here because I can't wait ten more minutes to get to your place. I need you, babe. Right fucking now.”
A dozen more questions rippled in her cheeks. Too damned bad. I ripped her up by the hand and flipped her around. She yelped when I unfastened her belt, grinding her ass on my dick. I had it down to her ankles and her panties followed, exposing her slit to the open air.
I dropped to my knees and inhaled. Pushed two fingers into her silk. Sopping wet, just like I thought.
Fuck me.
No, fuck her. That's what I was gonna do as soon as I got her to calm the fuck down by pulling her clit into my mouth.
