by Nicole Reed
Hold lazily strolled toward the end of the old wooden bar. He grabbed a stool to sit down, and turned to see which member was unluckily on bartending duty tonight.
“Prospect, hand me a cold one,” Hold yelled toward Shady. The tall, lanky guy, with his shaggy hair and black-rimmed glasses was a couple of years younger than Hold.
“Yo, me too,” Mikey said, raising his hand to indicate himself. He reached for the stool next to Hold’s, parking his big ass on it.
Two bottles appeared on the weathered bar top in front of Hold and Mikey. The prospect took out a bottle opener and swiftly uncapped the beers. Hold watched Shady glance between both him and Mikey. He caught Hold’s eye with his own and gave him a nod—another ally who had his back. Hold returned the gesture.
Picking up the beer, he took a long swig of the bitter ale, letting it quench his thirst. His fingers deftly set it back down on the bar.
“Hey, baby,” a feminine voice whispered in his ear from behind.
Hold turned around to see the pretty petite brunette who’d been warming his bed on and off for the last several years. He slipped his arm around Carrie’s tiny bared waist, smiling at the heated twinkle in her hazel eyes. She’d been looking too hard at old-lady status for it to be anything else other than a good fuck between them. Hold had been honest from the get-go that he wasn’t going there with her. Ever.
“Hey,” he said, kissing the soft skin of her rosy cheek.
“Hey, Mikey,” Carrie said, her voice a sexy squeak. “Congrats on the new mattresses. Maria said she helped you christen them.” She gave Mikey a sly wink.
Mikey lived upstairs so gossip didn’t have to travel far. He laughed, and shrugged his shoulders while raising his beer bottle in cheers toward her.
He and Hold never had a shortage of available pussy. Maria had been trying to get it on with Hold for years but she was too much of a meth-head for Hold to be interested. He liked his women clean of crank. Rotted teeth and a fucked-up face did not a beauty make. And talk about rank breath. Mentos couldn’t help that shit.
“So what’re you boys up to?” she asked, her gaze alight with piqued interest, volleying between the two men.
“Nothin’. Just shootin’ the shit,” Hold answered, letting his fingers graze the exposed tender flesh of her midriff. He nuzzled his face in Carrie’s long, curly hair, the clean scent driving him a little mad. He knew instantly who’d warm his bed tonight.
“Listen, I have to take care of some business,” Hold said, pulling back to glance at the lust-glazed eyes that stared out of her tiny face. “Stay close though,” he ordered.
The corners of her mouth lifted—she knew the score. Her braless nipples hardened underneath the scrap of lace she wore, calling it a shirt. Carrie nodded and turned to walk out of Hold’s embrace. He couldn’t help himself, swatting her tight, denim-covered ass. She giggled and tossed her mane of hair to the side. Her rounded hips swayed with every step she took under the short miniskirt. It made his dick hard every time. Yeah… he would plow that pussy tonight for sure.
“That’s one prime piece of ass,” Mikey said, interrupting Hold’s porn-worthy thoughts.
“I’m listenin’. So talk,” he said, turning back to face Mikey and the business at hand.
“I’ve said I’m sorry. You don’t see me expectin’ the same from you. I’ve followed you blindly my entire life, Hold,” Mikey finished, taking a large swallow of his beer.
“You want a fuckin’ pat on the back? Or for me to tell you job well done?” he asked incredulously. “What the fuck are you tryin’ to say, Mike? What do you want from me?”
“I didn’t say that. All I want is for things to go back to normal—the way they used to be with us, man.”
“The way they used to be? Wait, last I heard, I wasn’t fit to run this MC. Those were your words. Right?” Hold’s angry tone rose with each word.
Mikey glanced nervously around. Hold followed suit. Most everyone seemed to be minding their own business, but you never knew. It was Ward’s domain and he had his snitches.
“They strung me up naked and beat the shit out of me for hours,” Mikey said, lowering his voice while leaning in closer to Hold. “Yeah, I got fuckin’ mad. At you! You were the reason I was in that position in the first place with no easy way out. And fuck you for not realizin’ it.”
“You could’ve said no when I asked you to do something you didn’t want to.”
“When’ve I ever said no to you, Hold? Huh? When? Answer me, you cold-hearted bastard. You’re the golden boy. Ward’s son. I didn’t have a patch just waitin’ because of my name. And Ward was right ‘bout somethin’. You ain’t president yet,” Mikey said, glancing away from Hold.
He stared hard at his old friend. There was a bond between them that couldn’t be broken as easily as Hold initially thought. He felt those ties between them tug, but not give. It wasn’t going to be easy for either of them to forget but forgiving was what brothers did. And Hold needed to know upfront where Mikey stood.
“But I will be,” Hold answered, his voice low and steady.
Hold knew he spoke the truth, the future soon to be coming to pass. Not a shadow of a doubt made his voice waver. Mikey’s answering smile was his recognition. His old friend broke out in a loud, boisterous laugh, then finished off his bottle of beer, slamming it down on the bar top.
“’Bout damn time. Let’s do this, brother,” Mikey said, grinning from ear to ear.
“Hey Mike, we’ve got a call about a broke down rig off the Interstate near Boggs Road. You near?” Shady asked, his voice crackling over the bad cell reception.
Mikey Donaldson heard the prospect clear enough. As one of the tow-truck drivers for Dawson’s Garage, he was on call pretty much twenty-four-seven. He’d been taking his lunch at Big Papa’s Subs when his cell started vibrating at his hip.
“Close enough,” he said, biting off a piece of his juicy Philly cheese steak sandwich. The Cheez Whiz Papa added to make his subs the bomb oozed from both sides of the flaky bread.
“Alright, I’ll let ‘em know.” The prospect disconnected the call.
He laid his phone down on the table before picking up a paper napkin and wiping his mouth. Mikey didn’t have to glance around to know the little diner was booming with the lunch crowd, either picking up orders or dining in. His regular spot was a booth in the back. The cracked red vinyl seat with a black and white checkered table had been where he’d eaten most of his meals growing up. His ma worked here for years, serving the citizens of Harmony.
The sound of someone calling out Hold’s name caught his attention. His brother stood at the entrance talking to Mayor Greene. It was well known that the town’s mayor was old friends with Ward. In fact, it was the only reason he was elected.
It’d been a tough couple of months between him and Hold. Even though they’d called a truce, Mike still wasn’t sure he and Hold would ever be able to move past the events that almost destroyed them. But he loved Hold like a brother. Nothing had felt right without him in his life. When his ma had taken off two years ago on the back of a nomad’s bike, he’d been happy for her. His family was the Hell’s Highwaymen so he wouldn’t be alone. He’d plenty of brothers and Hold was the closest to him, but all that shit changed. Fucked up by Hels, like all the other times in his life.
“You need a refill on your drink, hun?” Milly, the waitress, asked even though she refilled his glass of sweet tea to the brim before he answered.
“Thanks, Milly,” he replied, smiling up at her. She returned a small grin before moving on to the next table.
“What’s up?” Hold asked, nodding at Mikey while he slid into the booth, sitting directly across from him.
“I was eatin’ lunch until I got a call from the garage. So I’m ‘bout to head out,” Mikey said, reaching for his wallet in the back of his jean’s pocket. He counted out the exact change plus a hefty tip and laid it on the table.
“We’ve been busy lately with calls—it’s good
for the garage,” Hold said, leaning back against the seat and watching Mike. “We need to schedule a club ride soon. Maybe up through the North Georgia Mountains toward North Carolina. Whatcha’ think?”
Mikey nodded. “Sure. You talk to Ward ‘bout it?”
Hold shook his head no. “I figured you’d maybe see where his head was on a club ride.”
“Hold, you can’t put me back in the middle, man. I’m with you till the end—you know it and Ward knows it,” Mikey said, leaning slightly over the table to speak low to his brother. “However, until you decide which way the wind blows, I’m fuckin’ Switzerland in all this shit.”
“Is that why you’ve been MIA most nights at the clubhouse? I heard you’ve been at Tuck’s bar almost every Saturday. Why you hidin’ out over in the next town, Mikey?” Hold asked, while reaching for a sugar packet to tap it against the table.
“Not ‘cause of why you’re thinkin’,” he said, knowing that he tried to stay neutral, but there was also another reason. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Try me,” Hold said, glaring suspiciously at Mike. It wasn’t a request.
This last year Mikey had begun wanting something so alien to him that it scared him shitless—somebody to share what was going down in his head. Mike knew that Hold used to talk to Hels, tell her things he couldn’t disclose to anyone else, including his best friend. In the past, Mike had his share of girlfriends, but nothing that lasted long enough or no one he’d even come close to revealing the shit running through his mind.
With the club splintered, he spent most nights at the bars in the neighboring towns, looking for pussy that didn’t care if your cut had a prez or vice-prez patch on the front. He’d grown tired of sheep—girls who frequented the clubhouse wanting old-lady status—so he’d branched out. Most of the time the chicks he picked up only wanted a wild one-night-stand, which didn’t bother him in the least. But more often than not, they didn’t care to see the man beneath the Hell’s Highwaymen three-piece patch.
Mikey sighed. “I’m just tired of the same ol’ sheep, man. I been thinkin’ that maybe I want somethin’ more.” He felt his cheeks warm at his own dumbass revelation.
Hold appeared to be surprised until seconds later when he nodded, but didn’t respond. He seemed to stare at Mike like somebody trying to solve a riddle.
“What?” Mikey asked, shrugging his wide shoulders while he squirmed back against the booth.
Hold tried unsuccessfully to hide that he was laughing. He covered his mouth, but his eyes revealed how he felt. The thought that Mikey wanted something more than a good fuck must obviously amuse him. It made Mike sincerely pissed off at Hold.
“Fuck you, Hold,” he said, and the anger that lay silently resting between the two men awoke. “I’d bet my bike if Hels walked into the diner right now you’d go all pussy-whipped again, even though we both know she chose a fed’s dick over yours. Don’t act so shocked and shaken over me wantin’ somebody. Fuckin’ hypocrite.”
Mike didn’t miss the flash of rage in Hold’s eyes. Hels was an unspoken off-limit topic, but all was fair in love and war. And Hold knew what it was like to love someone, where Mikey could only imagine. From his view, love looked like it could be a haven from all this shit going down in the club. He wanted to find that person so bad that sometimes it was all he thought about.
“You’re wrong. I don’t want that bitch back,” Hold said, the words he uttered low and soft.
“Are you tryin’ to tell me you don’t love her anymore?” he asked, not believing a damn word Hold said.
Hold snickered. “Unfortunately, I probably always will. But never will I let someone that close to me ever again. And if you’re smart, Mikey, neither will you,” Hold said, standing up and looking down at Mike. “I meant no disrespect, brother. I just thought you were all about quantity over quality.”
He stared up at Hold, his anger instantly dissolving at the look of pain marring his friend’s face. Would Hels always be between them, forever causing issues in their friendship?
“I’m sorry,” Mikey murmured, knowing he hit below the belt with the comment about Hels.
“Me too, Mike. We good?” Hold asked, holding out his hand.
Mikey didn’t make him wait for an answer. He reached his hand up and grasped Hold’s. They shook it out.
“Just don’t go puttin’ a ring on it without makin’ me the best man,” Hold said, smiling down at him.
Mikey laughed. “Get outta here.” He watched his friend walk out of the diner and minutes later he slowly followed.
Hold woke to the sound of water trickling in the near distance. It took several minutes to orient himself to where he’d spent the night. When he got laid, he usually stayed in his room at the clubhouse. Otherwise, he went home to his house, not allowing any chick to crowd his space or heart.
Cracking one eye open, he immediately noticed Carrie standing in front of the bathroom sink using his toothbrush. Her taut ass cheeks bounced firmly up and down as she stared into the mirror. For once, his morning hard-on had nothing to do with unfulfilled dreams and everything to do with the hot piece of ass in his line of sight. Hold propped his nude body, barely covered by the bed sheet, onto his side to get his stare on.
She twisted around, studying her reflection from every angle. Carrie looked damn good naked and she knew it. His eyes followed the graceful lines of her torso, narrowing into her small waist and flat stomach. He knew she worked out, keeping her toned thighs in shape. She’d told Hold she’d waited patiently over the years in the background for him, preparing herself, whatever the hell that meant.
“Come here,” Hold said, his hoarse voice carrying across the room. He patted the empty bed beside him.
He watched her body shiver at the sound. Her eyes rounded with sexual excitement and she sensually obeyed. Not wasting any time, she placed her knee upon the bed, and crawled on all fours to him. Her hands gathered the sheet, tearing it from his hardened body.
Hold licked his lips at the sight of her round breasts swaying with the movement. His cock thickened and his hand went to grasp it, massaging with long strokes, watching her eyes light with arousal.
Carrie kneeled on both knees before him. One hand pinched her own pebbled nipple while the other rubbed her pussy back and forth, her fingers disappearing in the folds of her bare skin, each of them getting off from watching the other masturbate.
“Hold.” Her voice broke, driving him insane with lust.
She groaned, removing her hands from her body. As though she had done it a hundred times, she leaned over and covered his dick with her full lips. His hands fell to his sides. Carrie knew how to give a damn good blowjob. He pumped his hips, tunneling his thickness between her lips. She scraped her teeth gently against his skin, barely enough to make him want to explode in her mouth. He bunched her hair within his fist, dragging her head back so he didn’t shoot cum down her throat.
“Ride me,” Hold commanded, guiding her to straddle him.
He could tell she enjoyed looking at his body. Fucking his body. Her wet cunt slid over his steel shaft, and he thrust upward, making her scream out. She tightened around him and his own moan joined hers. Her nipples had hardened to two tiny points, teasing him with every bounce. Hold watched as his cock disappeared into the hot slickness of her body. Carrie rode him hard and fast. The sound of her skin slapping against his only heightened his senses, keeping him hard, sweeping his mind clear of everything for a precious second but the two of them fucking.
“More,” she cried when her body demanded he take over.
Hold reached up, grasping the tight flesh of her ribcage, before lifting and flipping Carrie to her back. He settled between the silkiness of her thighs. Hold deepened his thrust, pounding into hot flesh.
“Harder, Hold,” Carried begged, clawing his back with her sharp fingernails.
His body answered her, no longer caring when each powerful stroke became almost painful. The intense sensual tortu
re only enhanced the sex. Her vocal excitement reached its peak, alerting Hold to Carrie’s climax. The spasms from her body brought him to his own release and he unloaded inside of her.
“Damn,” he muttered, not from the streaming pleasure coursing through him, but because he’d forgotten to use a motherfucking condom.
It wasn’t the first time. Carrie had assured him over a year ago she was on the pill and clean. Yet as much as he liked not wearing one, he didn’t know if he trusted her or not. He sure as shit didn’t love her, and kids weren’t anywhere on the table at this point for him. So he usually wore a condom for insurance.
He pulled out, rising from the bed, and headed straight for the bathroom. Hold stared at his reflection in the mirror, gripping the side of the sink with both hands. The weary blue eyes glared back. Some days it was hard to face the man he’d become. He ran his hand over his normally shorn head. It showed the barest growth of black hair sprouting all over. He liked keeping it buzzed. His face already needed to be shaved, so Hold went to work with an electric razor.
By the time he’d finished and showered, he knew before exiting the bathroom that Carrie would’ve already left. She learned early on that this was the only way they worked, and as long as she was good with it, he kept her in his bed. Otherwise, there were way too many chicks who’d willingly take her place.
Hold quickly dressed. His cut hung over the back of the chair and he walked over, reaching for it, and sliding it on as he moved slowly toward the door. A glance in the mirror across the room showed his reflection. This time he noticed his chest puffed out with pride. It wasn’t the patches that made the difference—Hold knew they could be stripped at any time. No, he knew the magic rested in the brotherhood. It linked him to those who came before and others who’ve yet to come. This is what Hold had always believed in, what he now fought for.
