Ash: Devil's Crucifix MC

by Carmen Faye

  "Yeah?" he asked them, looking from one to the other, "Alright. Be ready at eight-thirty, and I'll pick you up with the trike."

  "Yes!" Sydney hissed with glee, pumping her fist in the air.

  "Thank you," Shayla said and kissed his lips this time. Not to be outdone Sydney kissed him as soon as Shayla was out of the way.

  They both backed away from him, and then ran to their stairs, "See you Wednesday!" they called back to him.

  And he watched them go up the stairs.

  He actually saw them, Sydney and Shayla. No amount of flirting had ever resulted in that level of attention before. No open robe, no lingerie, nothing. All they did was expose their honest desire to be with him, and wham, there he was.

  "God, did you see the way he was looking at us?" Shayla asked breathlessly, as she closed the door behind them.

  "He didn't look at me like that when I was in lingerie -- which was depressing by the way," Sydney told her, and then added, "Shayla, if you don't take me to bed and fuck me right now, I'll never forgive you."

  Shayla stepped closer to her best friend, until they were almost touching noses, "And if all you do is just fuck me Sydney, I'll never forgive you. I need you right now. I need you like a lover."

  Sydney nodded, a slight shiver going through her as she said, "Me too Shayla. I didn't want to say it, because it sounds so lezy, but me too. What are we going to do? We both want him."

  "I don't know," Shayla said, putting her hands into Sydney's hair and kissing her. "I don't know. I do know I love you. I love you more than anyone."

  "That's what hurts Shayla!" Sydney shouted in a tearful whisper. "I love you too. It was supposed to always be me and you. Always!"

  "It always will be," Shayla told her.

  "How!" Sydney cried.

  Shayla slowly shook her head and kissed her again, and then kissed her deeply, until Sydney wrapped her arms around her and embraced her. They parted each other's lips with their tongues and explored each other with their hands. Clothing began to be removed and then bras. Shayla took Sydney's hand and led her back into the bedroom where they finished undressing and crawled back into bed with each other, getting under the covers and soothing each other into warm passion.

  "He looked at me, at us, when we were coming up? He looked like he wanted babies with us too," Sydney said as they cuddled and explored each other. "You were so right."

  "Right?"

  "Yeah, about being real with him. That's what he wants. He wants us. Like we were before we became party pussies. He sees us. He sees right through all the flirting and the bullshit, and he likes what he sees. I saw that in his eyes as we ran up the stairs."

  Shayla nodded her head, and nuzzled Sydney's neck, "Yeah, you don't have babies with a party pussy."

  "He takes us seriously. When was the last time someone took us seriously? Like we mattered?" Sydney asked as she cupped Shayla's breast and then sucked on her nipple.

  Shayla ran her hand through Sydney's fine blond hair, "Jacques. Jacques took us seriously. At least it felt like he did."

  Jacques was the president of the Devil Knights before he was killed in a hit and run on the freeway three months ago. An older man, probably close to fifty if he wasn't fifty already, but still an attractive man. She and Sydney often joked about doing him together, and she wondered now if they were joking.

  "You know? Neil's a lot like Jacques was. Same kind of man really," Shayla mused softly, her voice echoing the pleasure Sydney was giving her breast.

  Sydney let her nipple fall from her lips, "Yeah, I know what you mean. Same easy going way, but you feel protected, like you matter to him." Then she nipped at Shayla's lower lip and then French kissed her, while putting her hand between Shayla's thighs, and finding her hard clit.

  "God baby, I am so fucking turned on," Shayla moaned. "I'm going to come so fast. Please, don't rush it. I want to be like this for a long time, alright?"

  "Yes," Sydney moaned as she straddled Shayla's thigh and began rubbing her clit against Shayla's perfect leg. "God yes," she moaned and rubbed Shayla a little more deeply.

  "Oh Sydney," Shayla groaned, "Come with me, please?"

  "Fuck yes."

  Their orgasms were pure releases of agonies long endured. Their hips pressed into each other and their hands gripped one another as they held on, shuddering violently from the waves of passion. Their sex music harmonized with each other, filling the room with moans of ecstasy.

  Shayla recovered first and lowered herself to suck and tease Sydney's breasts.

  "God Shayla, look what that man does to us," Sydney breathed.

  ***

  After several hour of tearing their bed apart, they embraced, nose to nose and kissing lightly.

  Sydney asked, " If he was here right now, would you share him with me?"

  Shayla lifted an eyebrow, "You mean like, all three of us?"

  "Yes, exactly like that," Sydney nodded.

  They had never talked about a threesome before. No cock-for-the-night was interesting enough to both of them to want to, and certainly not important enough to ask the other to give him a special. What came to mind though was being outside with him today, with her arms around his waist and Sydney holding on to him from the other side, and both of them kissing him. It felt perfect, even natural. There was no jealousy or wishing she was alone with him without Sydney being there.

  "Yes, Sydney," Shayla told her. "I think I would."

  "What about," Sydney started and then stopped, biting her lip.

  "Sydney, this is me baby. Go on," she said kindly, and gave her a kiss.

  "What about more than a night? What about like, with babies?" Sydney asked shyly.

  "You mean, both of us, being with him? Like with him? Exclusive?" Shayla asked.

  "Hell Shayla, we're already exclusive with him, only without him," Sydney pointed out. "You said you were going to go find a cock tonight, but I knew you were lying and you knew it too."

  Shayla nodded in agreement to this, "Yeah. I was just frustrated when you said you wanted babies with him."

  "Why?"

  "Because I was going to say that, and chickened out," Shayla admitted.

  "He's not just a guy Shayla."

  "No."

  "He's not just a cock-for-the-night either."

  "No," she agreed again.

  "We're fucked."

  "Yes," she agreed with a rub of her nose on Sydney's.

  "If I'm going to be fucked, I want it to be with you."

  Shayla looked deeply into her friend's eyes, searching, and then said, "Party's over, isn't it."

  "Yep," Sydney agreed. "About time too. "

  Chapter 3

  Sydney felt the change in them right away, but by Wednesday it was obvious. Dealing cocaine was never meant to be a long term thing. They both agreed on that when they started. Eyes open. Never believe the glitz, never believe the drug, and they could say, ‘I love you,’ but they still had to have a condom. A year, maybe two, have a lot of fun, fuck some bikers, go to parties, enjoy their youth. Then, back to school for their degrees.

  They had always been sure of what they wanted together, even back in high-school. In their senior year they decided they would both get MBA's and learn enough about investing to start building up a mutual fund for retirement. After they graduated, they would find someone with a good idea in the field of new-energy. That's where the money, and the future were going to be – even old oil families like the Rockefellers knew oil was done. They would invest into the idea, and build a company.

  With the change, came the realization -- they were behind. They thought they were keeping up, but there were industries blooming out there they’d never heard of. Every time they got together, they both had clippings and web sites to share and discuss. They had files of notes on a shared cloud drive called Evernote, with comments and links to supporting web pages and articles. And something odd was creeping back in. Happiness.

  They were going to build something. Wha
t she remembered most about those days before the dealing and the parties was, they were never bored. Never.

  Monday, when Neil took them for the ride, he parked down at the beach and looked over the port docks. "See that building there?" he said, and pointed to what looked like a large warehouse.

  "Yeah?" Sydney said.

  "My dad helped build that. And that dock right there, and he helped fix it after the hurricane hit."

  The way he said it was like his dad was immortal now, because he built something that lasted after his death. It was cool.

  Nothing lasted in a cocaine deal. There was nothing to point to with pride and say, 'I did that.' Certainly nothing her children might look at, like Neil looked at those docks.

  Tuesday, both of them had their laptops open, for the first time in months, and were checking on the coming semester. They left school right, filling out the forms for a leave of absence, and keeping their fees paid up so they could come back without penalty. They were both a semester away from their Bachelors in business. They talked over their plans again, and Sydney talked with Shayla about leaning more toward marketing. Shayla thought that would be a good idea. One of them should have a good handle on that. Shayla told her she would lean more toward legal.

  They looked over their mutual funds and decided they slacked off. They went through a ton of fucking money over the last year, buying jewelry and eating out at high-cost restaurants and taking cabs, and limos.

  "That's actually kind of disgusting," Shayla said, eyeing the bottom line of their shared investments.

  "Yeah, you're right," Sydney agreed, while massaging her friend's neck, and then kissed her cheek. "We'll go back in the fall, and stay focused from here on out. This is a business and we've been fucking around with it too long. A couple of months though, with serious attention, and we'll at least have tuition and a bit of a nest egg."

  Shayla nodded and rubbed Sydney's leg, with a casual familiarity.

  Wednesday they were counting and banding up $40,000 for two kilos of cocaine Neil would be bringing over. They were both showered and dressed in casual business attire. Shayla was wearing light make-up with some nice earring and a gold chain diamond pendent just between her cleavage. She looked like someone who took her life seriously. She still looked hot, and sexy, but she was definitely not party-pussy.

  When Neil knocked on the door they both answered it together and hugged him like they did on Monday, then kissed his cheeks.

  "How are you Neil? Ready for tonight?" Sydney asked, as she walked away toward the kitchen to give him a beer.

  "I'll take that," Shayla told him once he was inside and the door was close, accepting the case with the two kilos inside.

  Neil was looking at both of them more intently than he ever had before, and she was sure he was liking what he was saw.

  "Yeah, I'm ready," he answered, accepting the beer. "I don't get stage fright. You do what you do, as best as you can, and don't believe your own press."

  Shayla looked up at him, "Neil? How long are you going to be running drugs like this?"

  "Not much longer. Anton, our current president — let's just say I don't like the direction the club is turning. I'm not even sure I'm going to stay with them to be honest," Neil confessed.

  "What's different?" Shayla pressed, her voice interested and concerned for Neil.

  Neil took a long drink from his beer and seemed to decide Shayla was interested.

  "It's not a motorcycle club any more. Not the one I joined. The whole focus now is on the drugs, and pushing them. If you're not working the cocaine out into the streets, then you aren't a member any more — at least that's the way it feels; that's the way Anton acts."

  Shayla nodded thoughtfully and then ran a test on the first kilo for purity. This was something Jacques told them always to do, and trained them what to look for. He told them to always weigh it, and always check it, if you wanted to keep your clients.

  "It's a buyer’s market here in Miami," Jacques told them. "Always keep that in mind. You only get one chance. After that, they'll never call you again."

  While Shayla tested, Sydney weighed the other kilo.

  They both looked at each other.

  "I'm short," Sydney tells her.

  "I'm at fifty percent," Shayla replies. "How short?"

  "Ten grams."

  "I'm going to test again. Test that one," Shayla tells her.

  After their tests, Shayla says she still comes up with fifty percent, and Sydney is only a little bit higher.

  Shayla looks to Neil, "Want another beer? We're going to have to call Anton on this. It might take a while. Sorry."

  Neil simply sat on the couch, "Do what you need to do, I got time."

  "Thanks," Sydney told him and watched Shayla call Anton and put her phone into speaker mode.

  "Yeah?"

  "Anton? This is Shayla."

  "Hey, how you doing?"

  "Not so good Anton, this stuff is crap, and on top, it's short."

  "What do you mean crap?"

  "It's only fifty percent, and the other is barely above sixty."

  "Well, we didn't touch it after delivery sweet cakes, that's the way it came," Anton says with a smile in his voice.

  "And not our problem. Our problem is we're paying top dollar —"

  "You're not paying top dol—

  "Anton! Cut the crap, alright? We've been doing this for nearly two years. We're not wide-eyed party-pussies. Jacques told us, up front that we were paying top dollar. Then he told us why, and one of those reasons is we would always get a full kilo, and it would always be eighty percent or higher. So, no, it is not our problem, and no, we’re not buying it."

  Silence was on the line for quite a while before he said, "Alright, I'll give you a discount."

  "No," Sydney injected. "No that isn't good enough. We have clients we have to answer to. Fifty percent is crap. No discount is worth giving this shit to our clients. Alright? We don't even want it for free."

  "Bottom line Anton," Shayla picked up, "is that we either get what we’re paying for, or we quit. That's it."

  "You quit? You mean you go to someone else?" Anton said with a bit of threat in his voice.

  "No, I mean we quit. We sell our list and stop. Go back to school. Fuck this shit. Yes, there are like twenty people in my Rolodex I could call and get kilos from, but it's not worth the hassle or the risk. So, here's the deal. We'll buy three tomorrow, if they weigh out and are good quality."

  "I'll have Neil bring them by tonight, about nine," Anton told them.

  Sydney looked to Neil and gave him a smile, "No, that won't work. We have plans tonight. Tomorrow, same time, and we're sending this shit back to you."

  "Yeah fine, whatever," Anton said, his voice dismissive and snide as he broke the connection.

  Neil came over to their kitchen table and looked over the test results.

  "Would you have talked to Jacques that way?" he asked.

  "We’d never have a reason to talk to Jacques that way," Shayla told him.

  Neil nodded, "You both look good today."

  Then he packed up the kilos and turned for the door.

  "Neil?" Shayla asked.

  "Yes?" he answered turning back around.

  "We aren't just party pussies Neil," Sydney told him. "This isn't what we want to do forever."

  "We want a life and someone special in it," Shayla added. Then she walked up to him and lifts up on her toes and kissed him softly, but luxuriantly on his lips.

  Sydney followed her, pouring all the emotion she felt for him into her short, soft kiss as well, "You're still picking us up tonight, right?"

  Neil looked from one to the other, searching their eyes, "Yes. Be ready at eight-thirty."

  "We will," Shayla said.

  "We won't make you late," Sydney assured him.

  He searched their eyes again, this time Sydney feels like he's a man looking into his woman's eyes. There's warmth in his gaze.

  Then he w
alked to the door and without realizing it she is following him, wanting more of that moment. The door closed and she leans her back against it, and finds Shayla beside her.

  "Fuck, we are so screwed," Shayla breathed.

  "You know Shayla? I'm twenty-four years old and that was the first time I felt like a woman."

  Shayla takes her into her arms and kisses her, "I know exactly what you mean. Let's get this cleaned up and put out a broad-band text that we are out until tomorrow, and then —"