“I want you to fuck me, Ratchet. Please…”
He gripped my hips and braced his thick head up against my slippery opening.
“I’ll give you as much of me as you can handle.”
He slid into me slowly. He was so thick and heavy I was being stretched. But I wanted all of him.
“Fuck, Sam. Your pussy is so tight. Can you take more?” he gritted his teeth; voice strained.
“Yes, James. I need all of you!”
Slowly his thickness invaded me; stretched me. My walls wrapped around him so tightly. I gasped and keened. I was fully impaled. He moved his hips and withdrew slowly and slid all the way back inside of me. His pace was slow at first, and I moaned feeling the incredible sensations he caressed deep inside me. I cried out when he grabbed a fistful of my wet hair and pulled.
His breathing was ragged and picked up speed with rhythm to his thrusts. His hips were smacking up against me, slapping sounds echoed off the tiled walls. I had to brace myself and splayed my hands on the wall as he drove into me faster, harder.
“You. Belong. To. Me!” he growled in beat with his ruthless thrusts.
“Yes, James!”
“Get ready, Rabbit. I’m going to fill you up. Right fuckin’ now!” he roared as his liquid heat exploded deep inside me.
Our hearts raced, the shower spraying both of us. His hands came around, and he pulled me up against his heaving chest. We stood frozen like this a moment. Our breathing was settling back to a normal pace. His lips and bearded cheek nuzzled my ear.
“My sweet, Samantha…” he whispered.
Ratchet
I dried Sam off and carried her to my bed. I cradled her naked body close to me. She laid her head in the crook of my arm and fell asleep. With my come deep inside her. I stared up at the rotating ceiling fan, listening to the quiet whirring sound.
I wanted Sam again. Sink myself deep into her again, but I had been too rough with her. I frightened her but doubted she would say so if I asked. That was all I knew when it came to fuckin’. I never had a problem getting my dick wet. If I wanted pussy, I got it. Mandi was fun for a short minute, but that’s all it was. Fuckin’. Shootin’ my load. And her begging for it. And calling me Daddy… Couldn’t fuckin’ stand it though!
How could I just take Sam so rough like I just did? That was all she knew herself. Things Sid and the Hounds made her do for so long. And I just did the same thing to her.
I left one of my t-shirts out for Sam to wear when she woke up. My back was turned, but I heard her bare feet pad into the kitchen. She must have woken up to the smell of bacon and eggs cooking. I was in front of the stove and turned around to look at her. She had that cute messy bed hair, wearing my t-shirt that was four times too big for her that hung down right above her knees. She combed her hand through her messy, dark hair and gave me a sleepy smile and yawned. My dick jumped in my sweatpants at the sight of her. I looked down at it. I was like a fuckin’ a teenager popping a boner every other minute the wind blows.
“Have a seat. Got some coffee brewed and breakfast cookin’.”
“It smells so good,” she stared at me, her head tilted a little.
“What? You never saw a man cook food before?” I smirked.
“Ah. No. Never.”
“Well, now mark that off your ‘must see’ list.”
I put a plate of eggs and bacon in front of her, and when she finished it, she burped like she did when I took her to the Knotty Pine.
“Did you sleep good, Sam?” Probably not after what I did to her in the shower.
“Yes, I did. I don’t remember sleeping that good in a long time. No dreams either...”
“That’s good… I want to apologize for what happened last night in the shower. I shouldn’t have done that to you. I don’t know gentle. And I don’t want to add more of the bad for you. You deserve only good things.”
Her head tilted. Her cute little eyebrows drew in together. Then she looked away.
“You didn’t hurt me…”
“Yes, I did, Sam.”
She pushed her chair away from the table. Getting up, she stepped away then stopped before spinning around, “I shouldn’t be here.”
“You’re not leavin’.”
“Just because you fucked me doesn’t mean you have control over me, Ratchet!”
I was up off my chair. I stepped toward her then stopped, “You’re not fuckin’ leavin’, Sam!” I came at her again. She backed up against the frig. I slapped both my hands against it, caging her in.
“You’re safer here than at the clubhouse.”
She had to crane her neck to look up at me, her eyes glaring. Her lips parted.
I reached up and rubbed my thumb across her pouty bottom lip. I wanted to pull it into my mouth and suck on it.
Her hands came up to press against my chest, “Stop. you’re crowding me again!” She slipped under my arm and ran upstairs to my bedroom.
I didn’t follow her. She needed her space.
I drove my truck to the clubhouse and bundled up her clothes into a duffel bag, and grabbed her backpack from the room she slept in. On the way back, I bought her a pay as you go smartphone. I walked into my bedroom and saw her sitting on my bed, the covers drawn up around her.
“I brought back your things from the clubhouse. Also got you a phone. You should have one. I want you to use it, Sam.” I handed her the phone and placed her bags on the floor by the bed.
“Just let me go, Ratchet.”
I sat down next to her on the edge of the bed, “And where will you go? They know now you’re with me.”
“Then I’ll just go back to Sid –“
I shot up from the bed, “Fuck, Sam! No. Not happenin’!”
I closed my eyes, shook my head, and ran a hand through my hair before walking out of the room.
Sam
We didn’t talk for the rest of the day. He gave me my space and left on his bike for a few hours. He was angry. Angry at me and probably wanted to clear his head. I laid in his bed all day. I closed everything off and huddled in that bed in my own world.
I could see the sun was just setting when I heard his bike pull into his driveway out front. His heavy boots were lumbering up the stairs to his room. When he appeared in the doorway, his hair was messy and windblown. I caught the scent of his leather cut and warm spring air.
“I want to lay next to you. That’s all.”
He walked in, peeling his cut off and laid it across the black wingback chair. He bent down; took only his boots off and slid into the bed under the blankets next to me. And we slept.
I woke up, my body racking with sobs.
“Shhh… I got you, Sam. Just a dream…,” Ratchets warm breath whispered in my ear. His thick tattooed arm draped across my chest.
It was a dream. Not real. I’m here now with him. Safe.
“Sometimes I can’t breathe. Sometimes I don’t want to breathe.”
“Tell me about it. The dream. Once you let it out, you realize it was just a dream.”
“The things I dream about are real. They really happened to me, and I relive them in my sleep.”
“Its all in the past, Little Rabbit. You’re here now. You need some good things to happen to you from now on. And those bad dreams will become less and less.”
My opened my eyes and they adjusted to the dark room. His were closed, and his nose was touching my cheek. I stared up at the ceiling fan.
“I didn’t have a father growing up. I didn’t know who my father was. Neither did my mother…”
His warm arm squeezed just a little, and he rubbed his forehead against my cheek.
“My mother was a club whore to the Hell Hounds. Meth and money were all she lived and breathed for. I was her crutch. Her pawn. Sid’s father, Knuck is the President. She made a deal with them. She left town with a good amount of money. And she left me with them. I was now their property.”
Once it was spoken, I didn’t want to stop.
“I di
d things, Ratchet. Bad things. I did what they told me to do. If I didn’t, they’d hurt me. In all kinds of ways. I saw what meth did to my mother and some of the Hounds, and I never touched it. The only way to numb the pain and the world I lived in, I drank. Sid stalked me and claimed me as his property. Knuck was okay with that, as long as Sid kept me in line. I was used to pass drugs to club members that were locked up. I was prostituted out. Passed around to other men.”
Ratchet lifted himself up over me, leaning on one elbow.
“My father was a monster. I did what I had to do to survive. But I didn’t do enough for my mother.”
“What happened to your mother?”
He turned away from me, squeezing his eyes shut.
“She committed suicide.”
I reached up and pressed my hand to his cheek, turning him to look at me, “It’s not your fault.”
“Yeah… everyone says that. You say that. But I don’t believe it. When someone you love takes their own life, you will always feel responsible.”
“Why, Ratchet?”
“Why what, Sam?
“Why all of this? Why do you want to help me? I’m just a club whore.”
“You are not a club whore. You were dealt a bad hand, Sam. Like me. Like my mother. I don’t care what you had to do. But you survived. What matters is what you do now.”
His mouth lifted in a lazy smile. His hair was messy. His chestnut color eyes so intense.
“It’s a good day to ride. Do you want to ride with me, Rabbit? Just us? I want to show you what I found yesterday.”
Ratchet was right. It was a beautiful day for a ride. Just the two of us. The strong wind was pushing against us both. The vibrations of the bike seat were felt on my ass and thighs, and his male scent was intoxicating.
He pulled into a parking lot in front of a used bookstore. In the window were displays of books and a Help Wanted sign taped to the front glass door.
“Hop off, Rabbit. Let’s stretch our legs for a bit.”
Ratchet lit a smoke while I unstrapped my helmet.
“Why did we stop here?”
He exhaled his first drag.
“I saw that Help Wanted sign there yesterday when I was out riding. Thought you should go in, and apply for a job.”
I could see a young woman behind the counter, ringing up a customer through the glass window.
“I have only waitressed and bartended. That’s about the only work experience I have, Ratchet. Look at me.”
His eyes roamed down my body and his lip lifted, “I am looking at you, Sam. And I like it.”
I huffed at him shaking my head.
“Doesn’t hurt to try, Sam. Go on in there and tell that clerk you want to fill out a job application.”
“Oh, that easy, huh?”
“Yeah, Rabbit. That easy.”
Sometimes he acted all smug. Pushing my buttons. I jutted out my chin to him, unzipped my jacket and walked in.
High bookshelves in rows, displaying sections: Romance, Horror, Classic Literature, History, and Children’s Books. Storefront displays of popular and bestselling books, all used of course, with the creased spines. And then the scents of the store hit me, bringing back memories of my high school library – the dry smell of paper and cardboard. A few customers had a book in their hands, reading, flipping the pages. A girl that looked about my age, with purple colored hair was standing at the front desk, ringing up a customer on a cash register that looked as if it was purchased back in the 1908’s when the store opened.
I stood in line behind the customer that was paying for what was wrung up by the clerk with the purple hair.
“Thanks! Come again and remember that we give you a trade-in credit for any books you bring in.”
She smiled as I walked up.
“Hi! How can I help you today?”
I smiled back and opened my mouth, “Hello, my name is Samantha. I saw the Help Wanted sign, and I would like to apply for the job.”
“Sure! One of the store clerks quit yesterday, and I’m helping out working both my shifts right now.”
She reached under the counter before handing me a job application.
“Have you ever worked retail?” she asked as I looked down at the application. Must fill in the blank lines….
“Sam. You can call me, Sam. No. But I have worked as a waitress before.” I didn’t know if working at a strip club was something you would want to put on your job application at a bookstore.
“Well, it’s all the same, Sam. Waitress, clerk, it’s all in the customer service business. My name is Katrina. Well, everyone calls me, Kat. Pleased to meet you.”
Kat looked out the big storefront window at Ratchet standing so confidently, hand in his pocket.
“If your friend wouldn’t mind waiting, you can fill out the application now, and I can give it to my manager later tonight when he comes in to help with my shift.”
Ratchet looked at us through the window. He nodded his head and gave me a thumbs up.
Fifteen minutes later, I was trying to keep my lips tight as I left the store. It was no use. I was happy, and he was grinning at me. My heart skipped a beat. Then his smile faded; his eyes were soft.
“With that smile, you can get a job anywhere, Sam.”
A few hours later, back at the house, the store manager called me on my new cell phone and offered me a part-time job during the week and some weekends. I thanked him many times during the call and Ratchet caught me around the waist as I jumped and wrapped my arms around his neck.
“I got the job!” I squeaked against his ear
“That’s fuckin’ awesome, Sam,” he mumbled low in my ear. His warm hard chest was pressed up against me. I realized then why his voice was so low and deep because I could feel it too. That warmth was spreading from my nipples to my stomach.
I heard him inhale as he held me tight against him, “You always smell so sweet.”
I wanted to feel his lips against mine again. But I knew he wouldn’t kiss me after what happened in the shower. I gave myself to him when every man I knew took it from me. But that deep yearning between my legs was relentless. I was too easy for him. I gave it up too easy for Sid and others. The things I was made to do, and done to me.
He released me. “Congrats…,” he said in a soberer voice.
My first week at my new job went quick. I met with the store manager, Miles my first day. He was a middle-aged bald man, dressed in the business casual of khakis and button-up shirt. We went over my job duties, which included stocking the bookshelves, and training with Kat on how to run the register as well as help open and close the store. Kat was fun to work with and a good teacher. Books were categorized into a group: Romance, Horror, Westerns, and then alphabetized by author’s last name. I caught on quick, and by the end of the week, I had re-stocked some of the shelves with more used books that were traded in by customers for store credit.
We would take turns at short thirty-minute lunch breaks to work the register and eat sub sandwiches we bought next door at the deli.
Ratchet rode me to the bookstore in the morning and picked me up after he was done with his shift at his job. He’d ask me how my day was and what new things I learned. He paid attention and listened to me as I talked, making me feel that I mattered. That I was important to him.
It was Friday night, and Ratchet picked me up on his bike.
“Some of my brothers want us to meet up at the country fair tonight.” He didn’t look like he was too excited about it.
“Have you been to a country fair, Rabbit?” he turned to ask me as we left the bookstore.
“No. Never been. Heard it could be fun though.”
“Well, let’s do this then.”
Ratchet smelled clean and fresh from a shower and along with it, leather, cigarettes, and his natural male musk. I inhaled deeply and held on, wrapping my arms around his waist. Sometimes I buried my face in his back and closed my eyes, relishing all of it: him, the air pushing against us b
oth, the loud rumble and vibrations of his pipes.
We met up with Gunner, Wez, and Magnet with an attractive woman draping her arm over his broad shoulders.
Chaos walked together, stopping to play games like popping balloons for prizes, shooting pellet guns at paper targets, and the strong man game, where Ratchet and Gunner took their turns slamming a huge mallet down on a podium that made the bell strike the top of the scale blinking ‘Winner! Tough Guy! Strong Man!’
I smelled all kinds of delicious things like popcorn, cotton candy, funnel cakes, and hamburgers and hot dogs cooking. It was just after sunset and lights from the rides and the games came on. Kids ran around laughing, or stood in line to get on the Ferris wheel, Tilt-A-Whirl, Octopus, or the Bumper cars. Screams were heard on some of the rides from young children and teenagers.
I walked along with Ratchet, carrying the soft and fluffy pink elephant he won for me at the BB gun target shooting game. As we walked, he had a finger in the belt loop on the back of my jeans.
We came up to the Night of Terrors haunted house ride. Little wheels on wooden carts with benches sat on tracks lined up, facing a pair wooden doors that opened from the inside, beckoning the next cart to enter the darkness. The other rides were more exciting to the teenagers, so a line was formed for this one. Ratchet stopped and watched a young boy sitting in a cart with his mother. He looked nervous, his little shoulders tight, his tiny hands gripping the handrail in front of him. His mother wrapped an arm around him. She smiled and said something to him that neither of us could hear.
“You wanna ride?” his eyes never left the boy.
“Sure. I’ll ride this one with you.”
“Well, let’s do this then.”
He told his brothers to go on ahead without us. He took my hand in his and I followed him up the steps to the wooden carts. Ratchet handed some bills to the carny, and he got in a cart. I sat down next to him, and the carny lowered the bar rail that held us in. He was so wide, and was giddy that my thigh was pressed up against his.
“My mother took me to the county fair a long time ago when I was a kid. Just like that kid ahead of us. We rode the haunted house ride together. Just like this one. I was scared shitless! But I remember my mother putting her arm around me. Telling me not to be frightened; that she would protect me from the monsters… The sad thing is she couldn’t protect me from the monsters. And I couldn’t save her from him.”
Salvation in Chaos (CKMC Book 1) Page 5
