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Hard Charger: Jake & Sophia: A Hot Contemporary Romance

Page 4

by Fobes, Tracy


  “Sure,” the blonde said with a smile. “We’ve been waiting for you guys to come over.”

  Jake heard a slight lilt to her voice, a hint of a Slavic accent. “What’s your name?”

  “Staci,” the blonde replied. “This is Elena.”

  The brunette nodded her head.

  Alex leaned back against a post by the pool table. “Staci and Elena. Don’t think we’ve met. I’m Alex, and this is Jake.”

  The two girls said hello, and then they exchanged small talk long enough for Jake to discover that they were exchange students in their last undergraduate year at Rowan University. As promised, Alex focused his attention on Elena, leaving Staci to Jake.

  “So, what are you drinking, Staci?” Jake asked, as he signaled the waitress to come over.

  “Vodka,” she replied. “On the rocks.”

  The waitress paused nearby and, after informing them that the bar would be closing shortly, took everyone’s final drink orders. They each picked up a pool cue and quickly decided that the teams would be Jake and Staci against Alex and Elena.

  “What are we playing?” Alex asked.

  Elena gave him a flirtatious look from beneath her eyelashes. “How about a game of Eight Ball?”

  “Sounds good.” Alex racked the balls in a triangle, placing the black eight ball in the center of the other balls, then invited Elena to do a break shot. She grasped her cue stick and tapped it weakly against the white ball, sending it into the racked triangle. The racked balls gently stuttered apart.

  Staci laughed. “Nice shot, pool shark.”

  “Hey, give me a break.” Elena pouted.

  Alex chuckled and leaned closer to her. “I’m not much better. We’re in trouble.”

  Both girls laughed, but Jake shook his head. He knew damned well that Alex was one of the best pool players in Rockport Grove.

  They continued to play, at first laughing and exchanging teasing banter among the four of them. Jake found the whole situation entertaining. Like Alex, he had considerable skills at playing pool, most of them honed at Fort Dix or on other army bases he’d stayed at between his tours of duty. The girls, on the other hand, seemed to be holding cue sticks for the first times in their lives. They weren’t even the slightest challenge.

  When the waitress delivered their drinks and reminded them the place was closing, they laughingly toasted her as a buzzkill and continued to circle around the table, trying to outshoot each other. Eventually, though, Jake centered his attention on Staci, just as Alex focused on Elena.

  “So what exactly are you looking for, Jake?” Staci asked in a breathless little voice, as they watched Alex take a shot.

  “Looking for?” He glanced into her limpid blue eyes and saw the invitation there. His dick hardened painfully. All of the pent-up desire he’d been feeling for Sophia was still sizzling through him like electricity that needed an outlet, and suddenly Staci became that outlet.

  “In a girlfriend.”

  He smiled. “I don’t have a type. I want mutual attraction, the kind that makes us both want to rip at each other’s clothes and satisfy each other in any and every way possible.”

  She sucked in a little breath. “Me too. What do you like?”

  He gave her a confused look, but he was smiling, too.

  “Sexually,” she clarified.

  His smile widened. “My sex drive revs in the red. I like it frequently.”

  She giggled. “Me too.”

  They paused in the conversation to take shots at the balls, but neither of them sank anything, and Jake didn’t really care, either. He shot a glance toward Alex and saw that his friend was looking at the dark-haired girl with unconcealed lust.

  “This game is over,” he announced.

  Alex nodded and grabbed his drink, as well as Elena’s. He took Elena’s hand and they wandered toward a discreet corner in the back of the bar.

  Jake watched as Alex leaned in towards Elena and began kissing her—slowly at first, but then with increasing hunger. He put his pool cue down. Then he took Staci’s cue from her and put it down, too. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into the hallway by the restrooms. From that vantage point, he could still see Luke cleaning up behind the bar.

  He leaned closer to Staci, then blinked once to clear an unexpected vision of Sophia. “I like a girl who is confident, yet submissive,” he murmured softly against Staci’s ear. “She knows when to make her moves, but she’s also excited and receptive to see and feel everything I offer when I take control. Because I will take control.”

  She sighed, then pouted at him, her lips begging for a kiss. He felt her hands playing with the waistband on his jeans. Suddenly, the button at his waistband popped open. He considered kissing her, but ended up just brushing his lips against hers.

  Her hand slipped into his jeans, beneath his boxers. She wrapped her palm around his cock and squeezed. His cock jumped with excitement. His heart began to pound in his chest.

  “I also like worshipping a woman’s body,” He told her, as she began jerking him off, the motion making him groan with pleasure. “I like satisfying her, I like it when she sucks my cock, and I like eating pussy.” He reached forward, slipped his hand beneath the fabric of her gaping neckline and found a mound of soft, warm flesh. He popped her breast out of her bra and lightly thumbed her nipple.

  She moaned, then said, “I like sucking cock, so we’re a good fit.” All at once, she slithered lower, tugging on his jeans as she did so, exposing his lower abdomen and thighs. He hadn’t expected this—a blowjob in Rowdy Ray’s back room. He wasn’t sure how the situation had escalated so quickly. He sent a slightly confused glance toward Alex, and noticed that his friend and the dark-haired girl had their hands down each other’s pants.

  But then he felt Staci’s warm mouth on his cock, her lips forming a firm circle around him while her tongue gently caressed the underside of his shaft, and he stopped wondering about how this had happened or what the consequences might be. He grasped her head and gently guided her, and she began sucking him, her hand clasped around the lower portion of his cock while her tongue encircled the head and teased that little opening at the tip. He groaned, his balls drawing up tight against his body as she continued to pleasure him, working him like a pro, and then all at once he felt a void of pleasure gather up inside him. Seconds later, it exploded outward, and he shuddered with the force of his orgasm. She pulled back to give him a smile.

  “How was that?” she asked.

  “You rock, Staci,” he breathed, and closed his eyes as he waited for his heart rate and breathing to come down to normal. A memory of Sophia floated in his mind then, and he realized to his chagrin that he still had a lingering desire for her, despite the blonde’s hard work.

  “Fifty bucks.” Staci gave his dick a playful little tug.

  His eyes snapped open. He stared at her with wide eyes as she stood up and spit discreetly into a paper napkin. “Fifty bucks?”

  “That’s right.” She nodded and smiled as she shoved her breast back into her bra.

  Jake frowned. Damn if he hadn’t just been taken for a ride. And he wasn’t even drunk! “Well, fuck me.”

  “That would be another fifty,” Staci informed him.

  All of a sudden, Jake sensed someone watching them. He glanced over toward the bar and saw Sophia standing by the booth, her hand on her scarf, her eyes wide and filled with a combination of pain and anger as she looked at him and Staci. He felt her stare like a kick in the gut. A thousand explanations crowded his lips. Nothing came out.

  Quickly he shoved his dick back into his jeans and zipped up. He pulled his wallet out, found two twenties and a ten, and handed them to Staci. “Good job,” he grated, “but next time, tell me in advance that you’re a hooker.”

  “I’m not a hooker,” Staci informed him. “I’m a college student who needs money.”

  “Sure, sure.” He realized that Sophia was walking toward them. “Alex,” he hissed. “Your sister’s here.”<
br />
  Alex heard him, shot a panicked glance toward Sophia and then broke it off immediately with Elena. Hurriedly they re-arranged their clothing.

  Sophia came within about ten feet of them and stared at Jake, then Alex. Her face had gone pale and her eyes looked like two pools of green fire. “I came back for my scarf,” she said woodenly, “and what do I find, but my brother and his friend getting it on with prostitutes. Wonderful.”

  “Don’t judge, girlfriend,” Staci barked, almost at the same time Alex croaked, “Prostitutes?”

  Jake pulled another fifty bucks out of his wallet and shoved it into Elena’s hand. He just wanted this situation to end. Immediately. “Not prostitutes,” he muttered. “Just two college girls trying to earn a few bucks.”

  Sophia’s face tightened with disgust. “I’m outta here.” Her tone registered deep hurt.

  His stomach in knots, Jake held out a hand. “Wait—”

  “How long do I have to wait? Ten years?” she sneered, then turned to Alex. “I’ll tell mom you’ll be late.” With that, she spun on her heel and marched out of the bar.

  Alex was still looking at Elena, his face registering confusion, alarm, and a dawning realization that he and Jake had been hustled.

  “C’mon, let’s go,” Elena said to Staci, and then both girls left, leaving Jake feeling sick with the knowledge that within two weeks of coming home, he’d had sex with a prostitute, had been caught in the act by the one girl who meant something to him, and had proven himself a jackass, just as the bus driver had shouted earlier that night.

  He was Kurt Gallent’s son, all right.

  Chapter Three

  Five minutes later, Jake was riding his motorcycle back home. The time had crept past 1 AM, and so the drive home was peaceful, with the roads awash in silvery light from a crescent moon, and fog hugging the dips and lower-lying areas on either side of him. Even the tranquility that came with the night couldn’t soothe his spirit, though. A deep disquiet had grabbed hold of him. He kept thinking about how badly he’d fucked up in front of Sophia. Was there an award for fuckups? If so, Jake felt certain he would have won it tonight.

  He also continued to mull over Ray’s strange cageyness when he’d talked about restoring the roadhouse. And what Alex had meant by ‘From Russia with Love.’ A lot more had changed in Rockport Grove than was apparent to the eye. Jake was starting to get the feeling that Hurricane Sandy hadn’t been the only storm passing through town.

  It was with these misgivings that he pulled into the driveway outside his mom’s house and saw his dad’s old Harley parked there, just outside the garage. The porch light shined upon it, making the exhaust system, the front forks and all of the other chrome on it sparkle. Jake had a sudden, startling sense of Deja-vu that, coupled with his misgivings and disquiet, made him feel like some higher power had it out for him tonight.

  The Harley had sparkled like that on the last night Jake had ever seen his dad...

  He pulled up next to the Harley, put the bike in first gear and hit the kill switch. The CB450’s engine quieted down reluctantly before cutting out entirely. He put the kickstand down and dismounted.

  A door next to the double-bay garage doors opened and his Uncle Martin strolled out.

  Jake eyed his uncle in his leather Rebel Grove Guardians jacket and frowned, his sense of Deja-vu increasing. His uncle remained a member of the same motorcycle club his dad once belonged to. He even looked like his dad in the darkness: a wide, square face, snub nose, smallish eyes that often glinted with humor; and longer brown-gray hair swept back from his face. If Jake didn’t know better, he might have thought he was talking to the ghost of his long-dead father. “Uncle Martin. What are you doing here?”

  Martin shrugged. “I was here talking to your mom a while ago, and then I got the itch to look at Kurt’s old bike. I’ve been working on it. Guess time got away from me.”

  Jake looked at the deer skull on his uncle’s motorcycle jacket and twisted his lips into a grimace.

  His uncle took a step forward and looked at Jake with a penetrating gaze. “Everything okay, son?”

  “Yeah, sure. Just tired.” Jake deliberately glanced toward the front door. That was where he wanted to go—inside the house, and to his bed.

  Martin continued to gaze at Jake. “You’ve been home two weeks now. How are you doing?”

  “I’m fine. Why do you ask?”

  “You were gone for ten years, and you didn’t take a single furlough here at home. That’s a long time, Jake.”

  Jake shrugged. “When I had a furlough, I took the opportunity to see the world. What’s wrong with that?”

  “Nothing. Happy to be home?”

  “Of course.” Jake lifted his eyebrows. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  Martin shook his head. “Adjusting to civilian life isn’t easy. You end up feeling like you’re outside, looking in.”

  His uncle had fought in ’Nam, so Jake knew he spoke from experience. He considered opening up about his vision of the girl earlier that evening, but then decided against it. This wasn’t the time or place. “I’m okay.”

  “Got a suggestion for you,” his uncle said. “Join the Guardians.”

  “What?” Jake barked. “Are you serious? That fucking motorcycle club took my father away from me. It robbed my mother of her husband. You’re insane to even mention it.”

  “Easy,” Martin said, and made pressings motion with his hands, as if he was trying to push Jake’s ire down. “I know what happened to your dad. He was my brother, too. It killed me to lose him. But that happened twenty years ago. The club’s different now. If you join, you’ll get that sense of camaraderie you had in the service. You’ll get that sense of purpose back.” His uncle paused and then gave Jake a considering look. “Alex joined, you know.”

  Jake barely suppressed a scowl. “Alex has lost his mind.”

  “We could use a guy like you: a decorated Airborne Ranger.” his uncle pressed. “We’d be lucky to have you, in fact.”

  Jake looked at his uncle for a moment and wondered at the older man’s purpose. Martin knew he’d never join the same motorcycle club that had destroyed his family. Why was he trying so hard to sell it? “The Guardians are nothing but a bunch of old has-beens who sit around bragging about their Harleys, smoking cigars, and drinking all night,” Jake observed.

  Martin shrugged. “Not true, but okay.”

  “You guys are barely strong enough to keep your Hogs off the ground on a sharp turn,” he added, his voice bitter. His father’s old Harley was sitting nearby, and he strolled over to kick its rear tire. “Is that why you have his Harley out? You think I’m gonna join the club and start riding this thing around?”

  Martin slanted a glance at Jake’s CB450. “That would sure as hell be an improvement over your rice burner. If you can get it up over 100 MPH, I’d be surprised.”

  “Well then, be surprised,” Jake replied. “I tore the engine down, installed bigger pistons. I had the engine bored and mounted a more radical cam. I swapped the chain sprockets out for a smaller rear sprocket and a bigger front one. The result? A sweet gear ratio and 150 MPH, easy.”

  His uncle lifted his eyebrows and pressed his lips together. “Impressive, I suppose.”

  “You’re damned right,” Jake muttered.

  “So you’re not going to ride your father’s Harley.”

  “No, I’m not. And you should get off yours, too. No one wants them anymore. The people who ride them aren’t real bikers, they just want to be tough guys.”

  Martin frowned. “You’re going to let his bike rust down to nothing, then.”

  “I’m going to strip it for parts,” Jake corrected him.

  His uncle’s frown deepened. “You’ll be dishonoring your father’s memory.”

  “I have no memories of my father that are worth keeping.” Jake narrowed his eyes. “To be honest, I couldn’t care less about him. Now how about we get some shut-eye? I have to be up in less than five hours, so I c
an get down to the construction site.”

  Shaking his head, Martin put the kickstand up on the Harley and started to roll it back into the garage. “Go ahead, Jake. Sleep as much as you want. But let me know when you’re ready to wake up.”

  Chapter Four

  The alarm on his cell phone seemed to wake him up the moment his head hit the pillow. Jake groaned and shut the damned thing off. To say he was in a bad mood would be putting it lightly, given all that had happened the previous night. He dragged himself out of bed, got dressed, grabbed his work boots, and went downstairs to the kitchen.

  His mom, Laurie, was already in the kitchen, pouring herself a cup of coffee. She had a bathrobe on and had put her hair up in a ponytail. Jake thought she looked years younger than fifty-nine. Her skin was still smooth, with only a few wrinkles around her eyes. Her hair had a soft, silky sheen, and she still fit into the jeans she’d worn in her twenties. He was surprised she still hadn’t replaced his father with another man. She certainly deserved some happiness.

  When she heard him stumbling down the stairs, she poured him some, too, and handed it to him as he walked in and dropped his boots on the floor.

  “Morning, Jake.”

  He tried for a smile, but kissed her cheek instead. “Morning, mom.”

  “You working the site down at Holy Trinity today?”

  “Yeah.” He took a drink of his coffee, and then threw a few slices of bread into the toaster. “We’re still working on Father Al’s rectory.”

  “If you see him, tell him I said hi.” Laurie sat down at the kitchen table and picked up yesterday’s newspaper.

  “I will.” Jake got the butter out of the refrigerator, and grabbed a knife. “You’ll be down at Beach Waves today?”

  “We have a full appointment load—cuts, colors, highlighting, two perms. I’ll need to be there before we open,” she confirmed, then slipped a pair of glasses on her nose and began to read the newspaper. “Heard you talking to your Uncle Martin last night.”

  For a moment, he stilled, then grabbed a plate out of the cabinet. “More like an argument.”

 

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