ROUGHNECK: A DARK MOTORCYCLE CLUB ROMANCE

by Nikki Wild

  My body was quivering with its intensity.

  Pleasure was whiplashing down my spine.

  “Don’t stop,” I begged him hungrily. “Please don’t stop, fuck, just keep going…”

  I could sense a change in his breath.

  An exhale.

  No.

  A chuckle.

  He was grinning.

  My mind was pushed to the edge of a precipice, and finally, achingly, brought to release. I felt my pleasure rocket off the edge as I was brought to a body breaking, overwhelming warmth of lustful, all-encompassing sexual gratification.

  I’d never experienced anything like this.

  “Was that your first orgasm?” He asked, pulling up from between my legs as they trembled. The breath had been stripped from my very lips.

  “First with… Someone else…”

  “Well…tonight’s going to be a night of firsts for you, isn’t it?” He smiled almost wickedly, although I could sense tenderness behind the grin.

  My own large grin crossed my face as I nodded again, sinking down into the sheets. “That was amazing.”

  “That was just the start,” he told me, sliding onto his back beside me. “And now it’s your turn, my little Angel.”

  “My turn?”

  “That’s right,” he grinned, kicking his jeans the rest of the way off. Laid out beside me, he was a long, powerful specimen of masculine perfection.

  Even overlooking that throbbing, massive cock between his legs, pierced to perfection.

  “I don’t…I mean, I can, but I don’t know how,” I whispered, catching my breath.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll show you.”

  I nodded one last time, sliding onto his body for a deep kiss. I could feel his erection between us – and what startled me most, even more than the huge size, was how much warmth it vented.

  The thing was practically piping-hot.

  I almost flinched at the unexpected heat.

  “It’s okay,” Trent whispered, his fingers brushing strands of hair from my face. “Just do what feels natural. I’ll help you.”

  I kissed him again, tasting my fluids on his tongue, before pushing down against his awesome pecs. His skin was so tight, so defined, sculpted into perfection.

  Sliding down his body, I let my hands grope, my fingertips trail, and my nails dig. I found myself wanting to learn every inch of his body.

  Soon, I was kneeling between his legs in bed, each one a massive trunk that stretched outward. I lowered my face, grasping the studded cock. It was slick with wet pleasure, clearly ready for my attention.

  My tongue slipped against his bulbous crown.

  It was salty, yet sweet.

  The head was so firm, so full of blood and eager for release. I realized how selfless Trent had been, bringing me to an orgasm first, and I wanted to repay him in kind.

  My lips wrapped around his head, and I pushed down around the shaft.

  His immediate groans told me what I needed to know. They encouraged me, pushed me onwards, and I began to slowly draw myself up and down his cock. It was interesting to feel his piercings against my tongue – I hadn’t really thought about catching on them, but to my satisfaction they didn’t bother me in the slightest.

  At Trent’s instruction, I started teasing him, flicking my tongue along the base of his head as I stroked his cock with my hand. This got me the reaction I wanted, and he lifted his head to groan, looking down into my eyes.

  I gave him the sexiest look I could muster, and he almost came right there and then.

  Instead, he pulled me up from his cock, tossing me back down into the covers. Instinctively, my ankles parted, and he descended upon me in the instant.

  The exhilaration threw my eyes wide open, and I was barely prepared for his lips against mine again, his tongue in my mouth. My chest was heaving; my fingers were digging into his shoulder blades.

  I could only barely keep up with his unhinged pleasure, and terror gripped me as I felt the tip of his cock brush up against my lower lips.

  “Are you ready?” He whispered delicately.

  I nodded.

  “Tell me.”

  “I’m ready,” I whispered.

  “Prove it,” he grinned.

  “Trent…fuck me,” I pleaded.

  The head began to push in, and I gasped against his grinning, confident lips.

  Just a finger or two had stretched me, but his thick cock was on a completely different level. If he hadn’t already prepared me with his tongue…I knew I wouldn’t have been able to withstand his massive, hot member.

  As promised, Trent was gentle. I held onto his body and tried to relax, and he reassuringly whispered sweet nothings and support into my ear. We waited like that for just a moment and I knew it was time. Catching his eyes, I smiled.

  Oh GOD…

  He drove deep, my body engulfing his saliva slickened cock into my wetness and taking my virginity once and for all.

  I was claimed.

  I was his.

  Trent was sheathed deep inside me. The sting subsided after a few moments to manageable, almost pleasurable levels. I was amazed at how well he fit inside me. His cock was so huge, stretching my slickened walls so wide. I just didn’t think I could take it.

  He continued being gentle, at least at first.

  Trent was precise with his movements, positioning my hips so that his piercings excited my folds just properly, pressing up against my button of nerves deep inside.

  “Oh god…” I murmured, my fingernails clenching into his back.

  “I’m going to be careful this first time.”

  I nodded, barely able to focus on his words. Did he mean there would be a next time?

  Trent held himself up above me, ensuring that his weight didn’t crush me. I felt him push deep into me and drag halfway out, not willing to break our physical connection.

  As I adjusted to his movements, I started to sway my hips with them, pushing against his pelvis with my own to meet the grinding of our bodies.

  He seemed to be enjoying himself, judging by his eyes clasped shut, the groans from deep within his thick, barrel chest, and the way that his cock trembled inside.

  This is sex, I thought to myself.

  This is what I’ve been missing.

  It’s fucking incredible.

  I felt like a missing part of me was finally being fulfilled. An aching chasm, both physically and emotionally, was at the pinnacle of fulfillment.

  Trent supplied that through a thick, studded cock.

  Anyone else would have fucked this up, but it just felt so right with him. It felt like everything was falling into place.

  I couldn’t explain it. At the time, I ignored most of the thoughts, or at least tried to. It’s the moment, I thought to myself. It’s just because we’re having sex. He has to leave soon, anyway.

  The thought of him leaving my side chilled me to my very core. He noticed, slowing down and pressing his lips to my ear.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing.”

  “No, don’t lock me out. What is it?”

  “It’s just…you’re leaving soon, right?”

  He paused, smiling knowingly. “I’ll be here until dawn… And dawn is hours away…”

  15

  Trent

  We fucked long into the night, occasionally stopping to rest. We’d drink water (or in my case, sports drinks that practically dripped with electrolytes) and rest our aching muscles for a few minutes before ramping it back up.

  I couldn’t believe how amazing it felt.

  The night I lost my virginity, I was 14 and the chick was 16. She was some older girl who was this total slut that I met at some party I was way too young to have been in.

  Half-drunk, we made out in a closet before she whipped out my dick, sucking me down like a champ. It was a spontaneous experience that grew me up real fast, especially when she pushed her panties aside and straddled my erection.

  I felt spent
but filthy after that.

  But the confidence boost was incredible.

  It helped that I had a naturally attractive build. All I had to do was work on it properly. With the burst in self-assurance from my first lay, I was practically drowning in pussy.

  It suited me just fine.

  Then, when my little afterschool band and I swapped a few members out and started playing decent gigs, got the right attention, and wound up with an LP demo sent out to the right people in the right places…

  Huh, I thought to myself, pulling Angel down hard on my studded dick again. I guess I’ve never fucked someone I actually cared about.

  Just acknowledging that she was anything more than a temporary fix was monumental alone.

  Angel came hard on my cock time and time again, surprisingly ready for more. I held back my own orgasm for as long as I could – eager to draw out her pleasure – but there was only so much that I could withstand.

  This time, we came together. It was an incredible, heart-pumping experience that absolutely defied explanation.

  We nestled up together in my bed, her head easily resting in the crook of my shoulder. My body tried to relax into the post-orgasmic stupor that it loved so much, but I defied my lethargic nature to stay up with her.

  Up until the dawning light.

  “I wish I could go with you,” Angel whispered.

  “Do you want to?” I asked.

  She immediately propped herself up on an elbow, eager to give me her undivided attention. I could see tentative anticipation on her face.

  “What do you mean?” She asked quietly.

  “Well…it’s just us on the road, right? The bus has room for you, and it’s not like we have a lot of shows left. We’re pretty much heading straight home after this.”

  I could see the cogs spinning in her head.

  “I mean…where will I go when the tour ends? You’re not coming back to Alabama...”

  “No, probably not,” I told her. “But I think that you and I can probably figure it out when we get to that point.”

  I felt her heart practically stop against me.

  “You…you would…no, there’s no way…”

  “I mean it,” I told her, smiling warmly. “I feel a real connection to you. And if it doesn’t work out, so what? We get you on a bus and you just come straight back. No harm in trying, right?”

  “Do you…seriously want to keep me around?” She asked quietly.

  “I told you, Angel. I feel something with you. Come with me,” I replied.

  “Are you…are you sure?”

  “Positive.”

  “I won’t, like, distract you?”

  “Not at all.”

  “What about the others?”

  “The others? Fuck the others.”

  “Trent, you can’t just–”

  “I certainly can. If they have a problem with you, then they have a problem with me. I’m the driving force behind this group. They can’t go on without me. You’re not a damn Yoko.”

  “Who?”

  “Yoko Ono… The Beatles?”

  Her eyes were still searching for understanding.

  “I’ll explain it to you later,” I said, laughing. “Just come.”

  “Okay,” she nodded. “Let’s do this.”

  “Do you need anything?”

  She thought for a moment.

  “My backpack. It’s back home. My social security card, my state ID.”

  I jumped up from the bed, throwing clothes on. “We don’t have a lot of time,” I warned her, lifting a blind with a fingertip. The sun’s rays were already penetrating through the semi-darkness.

  Steven was going to be pissed.

  I threw a couple of her clothes towards her. “Angel, if we’re going, we need to do it now.”

  “Okay,” she agreed, tossing on her miniskirt and shirt. She didn’t bother with anything else. Within minutes, we were in the rental jeep and flying down the Interstate.

  Keeping a tired but aware eye out for any state troopers, perched along the shoulder of the highway, my priority was to safely put considerable distance between the bus and us.

  Her little ramshackle bar was an hour-ish away, and we definitely had less than two hours to spare.

  As I pushed that little rental Wrangler up to eighty miles per hour, a concerning thought occurred to me. I quickly patted at my pockets.

  Fuck.

  In the rush, I’d forgotten my phone.

  Steven was going to be seriously pissed.

  16

  Angel

  Trent drove like a maniac, whipping between the few cars along the Interstate and keeping us over eighty miles per hour the entire way. The jeep felt like it was going to rattle apart as we soared along.

  With one hand firmly on the steering wheel and another clasped around my thigh, his eyes were fiercely locked to the road.

  “We should slow down,” I warned him.

  I could already feel the tension building.

  “No,” he told me, a hint of his arrogance shifting back into his voice. “I know what I’m doing.”

  “You’re driving like a crazy person,” I pleaded. “They’re not going to leave without us, right? Just…please, please slow it down. For me.”

  He coldly turned to regard me for a moment, but then visibly softened. “You haven’t met my band manager…the guy’s a complete prick. He all but has it out for me. Thinks I’m a hotheaded, egotistical jerk.”

  “Are you?” I asked, trying to swallow the mounting pit in my throat. I could feel anxiety begin to take its hold.

  “Of course I fucking am,” Trent grinned. “But our manager is paid to handle that. If he can’t then, well, tough shit.”

  I struggled to nod.

  “Listen, I don’t think I can stress too much how little time we have here, so I’m going to need you to be in-and-out when we arrive,” he reiterated. “We don’t really have the time to hang around, alright? If you need to say some goodbye’s you can do it by phone once we’re on the road.”

  “Trent,” I croaked weakly.

  “You run in, take care of what you’ve got to and lets get out of here.”

  I was getting tunnel vision now.

  Please, not now.

  Be strong.

  Be brave.

  Trent was saying something else, but I couldn’t hear him.

  I focused on the first thing to jump out at me – the logo on the glove compartment. I made it my core, my stone, mentally latching onto it with all of my strength.

  It’s okay, I thought to myself.

  Just keep it all together.

  You’ll be so happy if you just hold on.

  He’s taking you away from here.

  His voice came through again. He sounded urgent. I wondered what the matter was.

  I faintly felt something around my face. I was being tugged away.

  No! My stone! I need it!

  I panicked, trying to flail.

  Trying to tug at what was holding me.

  My fingers clawed wildly at my face.

  “…Down, Angel! Calm down!”

  I paused, feeling my chest heave over and over. I realized that I was holding his hand – rather, that Trent was holding my chin in his fingers, his eyes locked onto mine, and that my fingers were trying to pry him free from me.

  We weren’t moving.

  “Angel, what’s wrong? What is it?”

  “I…I just…so fast…I can’t…”

  “Angel, settle down…we’ve stopped.”

  I focused on that, pushing down the crippling anxiety that had infiltrated my mind. I clamped my eyes shut and bit down on my lip, concentrating on our immobile position.

  A car rocketed past, and the jeep swayed slightly. I almost leapt back into gripping terror, but Trent was pulling me close, stroking my hair.

  “Look, it’s okay, Angel, everything’s okay…it’s all fine now. I’m here.”

  I fought back a sob.

  Be
brave, Angel.

  “Are you…can you tell me what’s going on?” He asked quietly.

  I shook my head.

  No. He can’t know.

  He can’t know that I’m a freak.

  “Okay,” Trent whispered, allowing me to slide back into place. “I know the jeep rattling like that must have been scary. We’ll just have to deal with my manager when we see him.”

  I nodded aloofly.

  My stone, I thought, looking at the logo on the glove compartment again. My stone’s back.

  We rode in silence for the rest of the trip, never going higher than sixty miles per hour. After about forty minutes, we arrived at the Riverton Bar, and I extracted myself from the jeep and let myself in through the back door.

  “We’re going to be running late,” Trent reminded me. “Do you need me to give you a hand?”

  I shook my head. “I’ll be quick, I promise.”

  “Okay,” he nodded. “Once we leave, we’re not coming back anytime soon. If you can’t carry it, leave it. Clothes, books, just leave it all. I’ll take care of anything you need.”

  “Ok,” I answered, rushing inside.

  I knew I didn’t need much.

  A moment later my hands descended upon my backpack, and I quickly checked through the contents.

  I liked to call it my Breakaway Bag. A sturdy, waterproof backpack, it contained everything that I needed to scamper off under the moonlight. I checked for a few discreet pockets – social security card, state ID, shit like that – and then did a very brisk inventory of the rest.

  Towels.

  A few changes of clothes.

  Extra socks and underwear.

  Pads and tampons.

  Cheap first-aid kit.

  Throw blanket.

  Folding knife.

  Taser.

  Yeah, I was golden.

  I had just enough room to shove in a couple of small items of some sentimental value – a birthday card that Old Greg had given me – when I realized that I was abandoning him.

  He’d done so much for me.

  He’d never know what happened.

  I snatched one of my old notebooks back out of the trash, tracking down the only writing implement I could find – a thick permanent marker. Hastily, I scribbled a clumsy note for him: