BIKER’S GIFT

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BIKER’S GIFT Page 15

by Claire St. Rose


  Her hard loud groan as she shuddered was the sexiest sound he’d ever heard. It was an honest sound, the sound of a woman locked in the throes of a massive orgasm. She continued to hold his mouth too her as she groaned again and another wave of quivers passed over her, her hands pulling hard at his hair as he continued to tease her with tongue and lips.

  She lunged away from him, falling to the bed a quivering blob of pleasure. Never had she come like that, the pleasure so intense all she could do was ride the wave until it released her. She felt his lips touch hers and she took them hungrily, pulling at him and holding him into the kiss. As she recovered, she changed her mind about oral sex. Before she could take it or leave it, but that was because she hadn’t had a lover who knew how to please her. Until now. Now, she craved the feeling of his kiss, the touch of his tongue.

  “Did I hurt you?” she asked softly.

  He smiled. She had, pulling his hair painfully hard, but sometimes great sex left battle scars, and it was worth it to get to hear her groan like that. “No,” he lied, taking her lips again.

  As he pulled back, something clicked inside of her. She understood what he was talking about, the difference between making love and fucking. She often gave her lovers a blowjob, not because she wanted to, but because they wanted her to, and she felt like it was expected. But as she turned in the bed, she wanted to taste him, wanted him in her mouth, wanted to give him a face-melting orgasm as he’d just he’d given her. Not because he wanted he wanted her to, but because she wanted to. She draped herself across his body and took him deep into her mouth. She could feel him throbbing with every heartbeat, and she smiled as he hissed.

  She worked on him, plunging him into her mouth. What she lacked in skills she made up for with enthusiasm, and her purrs and coos as she licked, sucked, and stroked were turning him on in a big way. He placed his hands on her head, feather light, gritting his teeth against the searing pleasure of her mouth.

  She felt a rush of excitement as his hands gently pushed her head down. She knew she was getting to him and that excited her in a new and profound way. Before sex was always about her orgasms and her pleasure, but here, now, hearing him gasp and hiss in desire, brought back memories of how she felt when they were together. She remembered how she did things just to please him, baking him his favorite chocolate chip cookies, watching a movie with him just because he wanted to see it, or how they explored their sexuality together. He was the first man she took into her mouth, and he’d been the last she’d done so eagerly…until tonight.

  “Ah…fuck!” he growled. “You’re going to make me come.”

  Hearing the strain in his voice, the gentle pumps of his hips and the light pressure of his hands, caused her to redouble her efforts. She’d never allowed a man to come in her mouth, not even him, but tonight she would.

  “Stop! I can’t hold it! I’m going to come!” he gasped, struggling to hold his orgasm, remembering how she didn’t want him coming in her mouth.

  “I want you to come,” she whispered before plunging him into her mouth again, battering the tip with her tongue.

  “I can’t—” he gasped before he barked softly, finally losing his battle with his body.

  He spilled into her mouth and she braced herself not to gag and spoil the moment, but was surprised she didn’t find it as objectionable as she expected. She continued to suck and lick, delighting in how he grunted and twitched as she subjected him to sweet torture.

  “Good boy,” she purred as she pulled him from her mouth, slowly stroking his cock as she took his lips, pleased he took them with gusto, seemingly to not mind the slickness of her tongue.

  She rolled to her back, tugging at him as she did, so he would follow. He moved between her legs then kissed her leisurely as he pushed himself into her.

  Her hands gripped his muscular arms, then slid up and around his back, her fingers digging in and pulling him down. He dropped, supporting most of his weight on elbows as he buried his face in her neck and tangled his hands in her hair, grunting softly with each slow thrust. This was making love! This was the connection, the feeling of closeness, that she’d been missing since he left.

  He moved within her with long, slow strokes, each repetition more pleasurable than the last. He liked how she wrapped him up, her fingers biting into his back as she held him tight, her thighs squeezing his waist.

  “Oh, God, you feel so good,” she murmured, his breathy grunts of pleasure exciting her at a deep level.

  Her words flogged him, whipping his desire into a frenzy, and he gripped her hair, trying to control his need. “I want you,” he gasped. “I want to so bad. I can’t…” He paused, not sure what he wanted to say, his need for her blotting out rational thought.

  She could feel the strain in his body, the twisting of muscle as he fought to maintain control, but she didn’t want him in control. She wanted to experience him out of control, his need for her making her feel sexy and desired like never before. “Take me,” she whispered, her need feeding off his. “Take me like you want. Show me that you want me.”

  Her words snipped the remaining thread of his control. With a groan he pushed up onto his hands and began driving into her hard and fast as his passion overtook him, throwing his head back as his face twisted and his mouth opening in a silent, primal, roar of pleasure.

  She began to whimper as he took her with sweet violence, his hard driving strokes pushing her to toward her rapture. “That’s it, fuck me!” she hissed as her own face twisted in ecstasy. He began to growl, his head tipping forward as he tried to pound her through the bed. Her orgasm was coming, and coming hard, consuming her as it grew in power.

  Her soft cry of her release pushed him over the edge. With a shuddering groan he collapsed into her, twisting his hands in her hair as he burned with orgasmic fire, holding her and never wanting to let her go.

  She held him tight as she writhed in pleasure, biting his shoulder softly so she didn’t shout her rapture to the world. “Oh, God!” she breathed as her climax released her, leaving her awash in the aftermath of her orgasm.

  He lay still with his face in her neck, panting and trying to catch his breath, before he rolled off of her to relieve her of his weight. “Oh, God, is right,” he said, throwing an arm above his head, still trying to catch his breath.

  She rolled into his side. They were both sweaty, but she didn’t care, wanting, needing, to feel his touch. He surrounded her with his embrace, pulling her in tight before kissing her long and slow. She drank deep from the kiss, her emotions in turmoil. She was torn and unsure of how she felt. She wanted him but at the same time was afraid to let him in. If you can’t feel pain, you can’t feel love. Tara’s words echoed in her mind. She tried to say the words, tried to give voice to her feelings, hoping once she spoke them she could clarify her feelings for him, but they wouldn’t come.

  He held her close. He could tell she was thinking about something as she pensively drew designs on his stomach with her finger, but what he couldn’t guess. He tugged her face up and kissed her softly.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah. Just thinking.”

  “About what?”

  “Nothing, really. You. Us. How I feel. It’s nothing.”

  He felt the chill of impending doom. “Have I done something wrong?”

  She smiled and looked up at him, then gave him a kiss. “No. The problem is you’re doing everything right. Things were much simpler when you were in Charleston and I hated you.”

  “You don’t hate me anymore?”

  She smiled. “No, not as much.”

  He chuckled. “Well, that’s progress, I guess.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Gabriel was setting the table for lunch when his phone rang. “Royal.”

  “Royal, it’s Zorro. We have a runner.”

  “You want me to take it?”

  “Yeah. The bondsman asked for you specifically, if you were available. This one’s a nasty piece of work. Drugs, murder,
the works. The indemnitor is his family, and they live in Caloon, Tennessee.”

  “Where the—where’s Caloon?” he asked, censoring himself for Katrina’s benefit.

  “North and east of Chattanooga. I know you’re still settling in, but might as well put you guys to work.”

  Royal grinned. “We’re on it. We can be to Chattanooga in about four hours.”

  “Go get ‘em,” Zorro chuckled. “It pays fifty thousand, so it’ll be a nice little boost for the Greenfield charter.”

  “We can use it to pay back you blood suckers.”

  Zorro chuckled. “I’ll email all the details.”

  Gabriel hung up. “I have to go. We’ve been contracted to catch a guy who skipped on his bail.” His phone churred with the arrival of an email. “That’s probably the details on the guy there.”

  “Okay,” Stella said without looking up.

  He stepped in close and turned her to face him. She’d been distant and cool all morning. “Are we okay? Is something wrong?”

  She sat the spoon she was stirring the rice with aside and sighed. “Yeah. I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” She glanced around him, but Katrina was nowhere to be seen. “It’s not you, it’s me,” she said softly. “You’re starting to get under my skin and I can’t decide if I like it or not. I still haven’t forgotten what you did, but at the same time I remember what we had and how happy I was.” She turned to give the rice another stir so she didn’t have to look at him. “I’m confused about what I want.”

  He turned her to face him again and tipped her face up for a gentle kiss. “Don’t push it, okay? We’re taking it slow, just like you wanted. I’m not asking for more than you can give. You’ve already done a great thing by allowing me to get to know Katrina.”

  She nodded. “I’m sorry. I know you want more, but—”

  “Shhh,” he whispered, cutting her off. “I only want what you can give. I meant it last night when I said that I didn’t want you to say it until you meant it. Lying to me is worse than not telling me at all. I want to be part of your life, part of Katrina’s life, but if that isn’t what you want, I would rather you tell me than to string me along.”

  She looked down. “I don’t know what I want,” she said softly, unable to meet his eyes.

  He tipped her head up again. “Then we’ll figure it out together.” He kissed her lightly on the lips. “Maybe me being out of town for a couple of days is what you need.” His lips quirked into a lopsided grin. “Who knows, maybe you’ll even miss me.”

  She giggled. “Maybe. Call me tonight?”

  “Ah?” he said in mock surprise. “What’s that I hear? A bit of caring?”

  “Oh stop. I feel bad enough as it is.”

  “Don’t feel bad. I told you I love you because I do, and I’m never lying to you again, but if you ever feel like I’m pressuring you, for anything, I want you to tell me, okay? I’m going to win you, Stella, but I don’t have to win you today.”

  She looked down again. “And if you can’t?”

  Once again he tipped her face up. “I will, if you’ll only give me the chance.”

  He held her chin and refused to allow her to look down. She stared into his eyes and saw the conviction there, and it made her feel...special…as if she were the most desirable woman in the world. “I’ll try.”

  He smiled at her. “That’s all I ask.” He kissed her one last time. “But I do have to go. I’ll call you tonight, okay?”

  Despite herself, she smiled. “You’d better.”

  ***

  “This is it?” Hammer asked Royal as he, Blade and Goon pumped gas into their Harleys.

  “This is it. Welcome to the greater Caloon metroplex,” Royal replied with a grin. They were at the only gas station in town, and the city limit sign they passed said there were 602 souls in town. That made his job both easier and harder. Easier because if Wayne Alan Bass was in town, there wasn’t a lot of places for him to hide, but harder because small towns were clannish and protected their own.

  “Why can’t we ever have to catch some loser in Vegas or Atlantic City, or someplace like that?” Goon asked.

  Royal grinned. It was well known Goon liked the slots and paid regular visits to the casino in Cherokee, North Carolina. That was the primary reason he wanted to relocate to Greenfield: it put him closer to the casino.

  “Because you would spend all your time in the casino spending our expense money.”

  “Nah. Just my cut,” he grinned as the pump clicked off.

  The bikers waited for Royal to finish filling the club Suburban, the truck taking considerably longer to top off than the three bikes. They were going to follow their standard game plan. Royal would hold back and direct the recovery team, not tipping his hand until they were ready to make the arrest.

  As the truck filled, he opened the back and passed out small radios with tiny ear pieces so his brothers could hear him, and he could hear what they did. This was their 99 th operation and they were a well-oiled team.

  They didn’t have a lot of time today, so they were going to try the obvious, and direct, approach first. While Royal camped out nearby in the Suburban, Hammer would go to Wayne’s parent’s house and see if he was there. If he was, they would flush him out and Royal would be waiting to bag him. It was rarely that easy, but sometimes they got lucky.

  The pump finally clicked for the SUV and Royal went inside to collect the remainder of the hundred dollars and his receipt. When he returned, the brothers were locked and loaded, sitting on their hogs and ready to ride.

  “Give me a minute to find where the house is, and someplace to set up.” Checking his email, he programmed the location into the truck’s satnav, then using his phone, found someplace nearby he would wait. “Okay. There’s a Hardee’s not far from there and that’s where I’ll set up. They live on the corner of 6 th and Main, 115 Main Street. I’ll drive us right past the place. Goon, you and Blade stay with me. Hammer, just ride on past, then when we’re ready, do your thing.”

  Everyone nodded as the Harleys rumbled to life.

  No place in Caloon was very far, and they were at the Hardee’s in less than five minutes. “Hammer, you copy?” Goon and Blade were in the truck with him as it idled with the air conditioning pumping.

  “Copy, Royal.”

  “You’re on, man. Make me proud.”

  Goon and Blade were listening on their radios, though they had switched off their mics.

  The men waited, listening as Hammer’s hog rumbled for a time, then fell silent. “Approaching the house now,” he said quietly.

  The three men heard him knock on the door then the bump and rattle of a door opening. “Mrs. Wickam?” Hammer asked.

  “Yes?”

  “I’m here as a representative of All-Free Bonding. Is Wayne Alan Bass your son?”

  “I have nothing to say to you,” the woman said.

  “Ma’am! Do you realize Mr. Bass failed to make his scheduled court appearance? He is in default of his bond and you are liable for the entire half-million if he fails to appear.”

  “Get off my property,” a man’s voice said. “Wayne isn’t here. We don’t know where he is, probably out of the country.”

  Royal nodded. He’d heard that same song and dance a hundred time, and it hadn’t been true yet. He would bet his left nut Wayne was hiding in the house at this very moment, listening to every word they said.

  “Remind them that harboring a fugitive can result in jail time, leave my card, then come on back. I don’t want you to get arrested for trespassing.”

  Hammer did as Royal asked, thanked them for their time, then they heard him clomp off the porch. “He’s there or they know where he is,” Hammer. “I could see it in their eyes.”

  Royal grinned. “Okay. Let’s turn the heat up. Park across the street and watch the house. Goon, Blade and I are going to go find someplace to stay, then I’ll send somebody to spell you. You good?”

  “I’m good.”<
br />
  ***

  “Hey, babe. Miss me?” Gabriel asked when Stella answered her phone. It was just after ten and Katrina should be in bed, but Stella should still be awake.

  “Have you been gone?” she teased.

  He grinned. He was alone in the motel room in Cleveland, Tennessee, he was sharing with Blade. Blade would be back from his tour of sitting in front of the Bass house in a couple of hours, Hammer and Goon were in the room they were sharing, drinking beer and watching the Braves play the Padres, so he had some alone time.

  “How’s Katrina?”

  “Sleeping, which is what her mother is going to be doing in a few minutes. I wish you were here.”

 

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