by Laura Day
This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons--living or dead--is entirely coincidental
Riding the Wind copyright @ 2014 by Laura Day. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embedded in critical articles or reviews.
RIDING THE WIND
CHAPTER ONE
Danni Stewart stood behind the diner counter, desperate to stretch out the small of her back or rub her sore feet, but Kenny would have her head if she did. One of his absolute rules was that his girls were always fresh, always smiling, always ready to serve. She was glad that at least he had conversations with customers who groped the servers as they brought their refills.
Sarah flashed a grin at Danni as she carried Table 4’s order out to them. “Just another hour,” she said quietly. “You got this.”
Danni smiled back, but her heart wasn’t in it. She’d rather be at home, coloring with Cole, or reading him a story. Her upstairs neighbor, Mrs. Clark, was a good lady, but she tended to run lax with Cole. He did better when he had firm rules. Just like his father, she thought. Or at least, if his father had gotten some of that in his childhood, maybe he would have stuck around, instead of riding off on that damn bike.
No point in thinking about what you couldn’t change. Danni had worked at the diner since after Cole was born, and Mrs. Clark had watched him for five years now while Danni worked. Cole was a bright kid, starting kindergarten in the fall, and he was going to have a future somewhere better than this greasy spoon. He was going to do more than his mother or father ever had.
Still, her heart fluttered when she heard the roar of motorcycles, off on the highway. She wasn’t a fool; Cole’s father was never coming back. But every time she heard that sound, something started up inside her, and it was hard to shut it down again. I need a job somewhere in the city, she thought, where I won’t have to hear this. But that was as likely as waking up in the morning and finding a pot of gold in the bathtub. No need to hold your breath.
And just her luck, the bikers pulled off at her greasy spoon, a mess of big and burly, black and silver, that made her heart pound and her blood run hot. Before Cole, she’d ridden behind Mickey all over town, loving the wind in her face and the feeling of her arms tight around her man, all that power vibrating between her legs, keeping her warm and wet for later. But after Cole, it was never the same. The wind left her hair tangled, and her thighs ached from holding on through the vibration. And then Mickey left one morning, bright and early, and never came back.
She was done with bikes and bikers, no matter how hot they made her. The memories would be something to enjoy later, when she had had a bath, after Cole was tucked in for the night, but nothing to think about now.
The bikers and their girls poured into the bar, smelling of leather and sweat and sunshine. Danni quickly split the tables with Sarah and started taking orders. All the usual things, burgers and fries and onion rings. The guys were all that she’d come to expect; inked and wind-burned, hair long and pulled back or head shaved. None of them registered, not really. Until she got to the last table.
Four men had squeezed into the booth, none of the women. Three of them were clearly older, and had been living this life for a while. Their faces were creased and cracked, their tattoos old and blurry, their leathers as worn as they were. But the fourth man made her stop and look at him. His skin was far darker than the wind could ever tan it, and his eyes were a deep, warm brown. His hair fell around his face in loose waves, and he brushed a curl out of his eyes as he looked up at her.
“Hi,” he said. His smile was softer than she’d ever seen, and she melted right into her practical tennis shoes. "How’s the shepherd’s pie?”
Danni pulled herself together with sheer force of will. Mickey hadd had a great smile, too, but that hadn’t stopped him from disappearing into the sunset, his Honda humming along like he wasn’t leaving his son behind. “Absolutely delicious. As long as you like it on the spicy side; there’s some red pepper and pepper jack cheese in the potatoes.”
“I’ll have that,” he said, his eyes bright. “And do you have a milkshake?”
The other men around the table snickered into their beards, and Danni cocked one single no-nonsense eyebrow at the cute guy. He rubbed at the calculated scruff around his lip and chin--it looked good on him, no matter how she tried to pretend that it didn’t--and gave her a smile that reached all the way up to his eyes.
“No, really, I mean it. I’m dying for a chocolate milkshake. No disrespect meant.”
The man across from the cutie flat out guffawed. “Sure, Derek, respect the ladies, that’s definitely your MO.”
Derek shot the man one hell of a look, and the guy subsided. Interesting. With the crew that Mickey had run with, the oldest guys always had more pull than the younger ones. If Mickey’d tried something like that with one of the geezers in his pack, he’d’ have been sporting a black eye before the sun set.
“Yeah, there’s a milkshake. Chocolate, vanilla, strawberry. What’s your pleasure?”
“Chocolate,” Derek said and his voice melted her all over again. “When do you get off work?”
She tapped her pen against her order pad and surveyed him again. His jeans spread tight over his thighs, his long sleeved black t-shirt was fitted over his well-muscled arms, and the leather vest over the t-shirt was creased and worn. He certainly looked like he could be fun, but it was his hands that decided her in the end. They looked wind-roughened and creased, but as he spun his sunglasses in his fingers, there was something careful and almost delicate about them. “In about an hour,” she said. “How long are you boys stopping in town?”
“Few days at least. I could give you a ride home. We could spend some time.”
It had been a long time, a couple months at least, since she’d come at the touch of something that didn’t have batteries. She’d tell Mrs. Clark that something had come up at work, and ask could she keep Cole for another couple hours. Hell, the lady’d love the chance to give the boy some ice cream and brownies.
“Sounds like fun,” she said, flashing him her own smile. “My name’s Danni. I’ll meet you down the road a bit, at Underwood’s. If Kenny sees me with a customer, I’ll never hear the end of it.”
“At Underwood’s, in an hour. I’ll see you there.”
Sarah was waiting for her as she walked back behind the counter to put in the orders. “You like to live dangerously, girl, I will give you that much.”
Danni laughed. “There’s no danger if all I’m giving up is an orgasm, Sarah. A girl cannot live on batteries alone. And, hey, this way you don’t have to give me a ride home.”
Sarah bumped her shoulder against Danni’s, a kind of “you know I don’t mind” between friends, and they went about their work.
CHAPTER TWO
Derek watched the waitress go, enjoying the sashay of her hips as she moved. Walt was still chuckling in his beard. “Derek, I do not know how you pull that shit off,” he said. “We’ll be in town three days, and by the end of it, she’ll be on her knees begging you to stay as you ride off, cool as a cucumber.”
“Not this one,” Derek replied. “I’m pretty sure she’s as cool as they come.” He smirked. “At least while she’s got her clothes on. Did you see her lips?”
Walt rolled his eyes. “No, kid, I was most definitely not looking at her lips.”
They laughed to
gether, and Derek fought to put aside the excitement in his blood. He’d been on the road with the Black Brothers for a couple years now, and there’d been plenty of women, but they’d always been a matter of convenience, available and eager. He’d been flirting with Danni, and he had no idea why. Women were chains around your neck, tying you down to one place and one time, wanting babies and houses and nonsense. He hadn’t ever wanted all of that crap. Just the road before him, the wind screaming in his ears, and the engine throbbing between his legs.
But in an hour, if he had his way, there’d be other screaming in his ears, something else between his legs that he could set to throbbing.
***
The rest of her shift took far too long for Danni’s taste. She’d called Mrs. Clark, let her know that she’d be late picking up Cole, and Mrs. Clark told her to just go home and go to bed, not to worry about it. She said she’d let herself in now to get Cole some pajamas, and he’d sleep right on her couch, so that Danni could get work done for her community college classes. She thanked Mrs. Clark, offered to pay for Cole’s dinner, offered again when Mrs. Clark refused, and then graciously accepted her generosity. She really was a kind woman; Danni had a moment of guilt at taking advantage. But only a moment. Derek was still watching her as she moved around the diner, and she put an extra shimmy in her walk, bent over just a little farther to pick things up, and posed just a tiny bit more. Her body was still pretty good, even after Cole; things were softer and lower than they’d been when she was a teenager, but she still figured herself as upholstered, rather than fat, and if Derek didn’t like it once he had her clothes off, he could get back on his bike and drive himself off a cliff.
When her shift was finished, she counted out her tips, gave Sarah a hug, and then walked out to the main drag, turning right and walking the three blocks to Underwood’s. Her feet really were aching, and if she had to walk the five miles home, she would have been debating on calling the cab. Knowing that Derek was coming to get her--assuming that his word was worth something--set up a pleasant burn between her thighs that wasn’t born from exercise.
She wasn’t quite all the way to the bar before she heard the bike roaring behind her. Her heartbeat picked up, and she found herself grinning for no reason. She shaded her eyes against the low sun as Derek pulled up beside her, braking slowly so that he wouldn’t throw dirt up at her. He put the bike in neutral and stood while he held out a heavy jean jacket and a helmet to her. “I wish you had pants on, at least, to protect your legs. Do you know how to put the helmet on?”
Danni gave him a long look. “Yours is not the first engine I’ve straddled.”
Derek’s eyebrows rose. “Is that so?” He checked the strap under her chin. “Well, then, hop on.”
She climbed onto the bike behind him, pulled her feet up onto the pegs, and wrapped her arms around him, tight enough to balance with him, but not tight enough to strangle him. He was still for a long moment, and she splayed the fingers of her right hand along his low belly, pressing gently down.
He laughed, his voice breathy and thin. “Girl, if you want to get back to your place in one piece, you probably want to hold off on that.” He laid his hand over hers, squeezing gently. “But once we get there, you feel free.”
She was pressed against him as the engine roared to life again, surging up through her thighs, her core, her breasts. She missed her leathers, but being this close to the smell of sweat and sunshine was nearly as good. After a moment, she turned her cheek into Derek’s shoulder to shelter from the wind, and enjoyed the ride.
***
He followed her directions to her apartment building, parking his motorcycle in her spot, and then followed her up the stairs. It was a clean building, not particularly new or state of the art, but clean. And she could pay the rent with her check without too much trouble. Her landlord was lazy, but honest, and he fixed stuff that mattered. And the building had Mrs. Clark, and a park a block away. Cole was in a good school, and the landlord let them all use his wireless. All in all, it was a good deal for the price she paid.
Derek shut the door behind her, and she turned to him, shedding the denim jacket. He set the helmets down by the door, and reached out to her. “Come here often?” He caught her hand and pulled her tight to him, running his hands down her curves, paying particular attention to the small of her back, and the flare from her waist to her hips and ass.
“Not all that often. You?”
“Now and then.” He bent down then and kissed her. The first time was soft and gentle, exploratory, seeing if the spark of fun they’d shared in the diner was going to burst into flame, or need to be encouraged. The shock of energy was a surprise to them both. She whimpered and clutched at the back of his neck, and he pulled back for a moment, his eyes wide and completely stunned.
“Oh, Jesus,” he whispered, and then they were kissing again, tongues entangled, hands wild over bodies, frantically seeking skin. She shoved his vest off onto the floor, yanked his t-shirt out from his jeans, and ran her hands over the rippled surface of his abs, the smooth, gently furred planes of his chest, the smooth skin of his back. He unbuttoned her uniform with shaking hands, getting to her waist before he lifted her breasts in his hand, running his tongue over her cleavage, and nipping at the round dark flesh left exposed by her bra.
“Condoms,” he said.
“In the bedroom.”
“I like how you think.”
She took his hand and walked him down the hallway, weak kneed from the surging waves of want that were threatening to roll her under the surface. It had been long enough that she’d forgotten what it was like to be kissed by a gorgeous man who was focused on nothing but her.
Her bedroom was simple and clean, both of which she was happy about right now. No dirty underwear on the floor or overly expensive covers that she had to feel like she should move, so they wouldn’t get mussed. She turned towards him in the room, and watched his muscles shift softly as he pulled his t-shirt over his head. Then he reached out to her again, pressing her against him, and she could feel his erection, hot and ready through his denim. He lifted her breasts again, dragging his tongue over the mounded flesh, and she sighed in delighted lust.
“You’re gorgeous, Danni. Anyone ever told you that before?”
“Yeah,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck and meeting his gaze squarely. “But he didn’t end up being my favorite person, so how about we stop talking and go back to kissing.”
CHAPTER THREE
There was something about her. Derek couldn’t put his finger right on it, but she wasn’t like the other women he’d been with over the past few years. There was something sure about her, something calm and strong and removed. She’d been through plenty, he’d guess, but that wasn’t it. Plenty of women had been through plenty of trouble in their lives, and came through broken, needy, and miserable, latching onto guys like him, thinking that he’d be their daddy and make it all better, or that they’d somehow fix him, and by fixing him, fix the guy that broke them. Danni, though--it seemed like she wanted what he did, an evening of hot, heavy passion, and then a polite goodbye in the morning, free of clinging and tears.
The self-sufficiency was incredibly arousing, and when she told him to shut up and kiss her again, he was happy to oblige.
***
He claimed her mouth with a fresh zeal, and Danni gave herself over to it entirely. She pushed thoughts of Mickey, and Cole, and everything else out of her mind. She needed this, needed the oblivion and the excitement and the urgent release. She reached between them and finished unbuttoning her diner uniform, then shrugged it off her shoulders, reaching over to lay it over the back of a chair where it wouldn’t get wrinkled. And then she turned back to Derek in her bra and panties, and let him look at her. Let him see where she wasn’t perfect, where her belly had softened, where her hips had stretch marks that hadn’t faded, no matter what overpriced cream she’d used. If he was going to run, it would be now.
He d
idn’t run. He reached out to her, in her department store panties and bra that didn’t even match, and pulled her tight against him, bending her backwards as he traced her throat with his tongue and teeth. She hissed for him, digging her nails into his back, and he groaned, letting her drop down onto the bed, then covering her up with his body. She wrapped her legs around his hips and pulled him against her, loving how he sighed at her heat. His mouth came to her breasts again, lifting them free of her bra and caressing her nipples with his tongue. One hand slipped down between them, sliding into her cotton panties and stroking over her slit, gently at first, then with a harder, faster rhythm as he found how wet she was.
All the words went away as he teased her nipple with his teeth and pressed one, then two fingers into her eager body. She fucked his hand, groaning as he turned it so that her clit slapped into his palm with every thrust, seeing sparkles behind her eyes as the tense energy started to build in her thighs and her core. He pulled at her nipple with his teeth, waiting for her to say it was too much, too hard, but every increase in pressure brought her closer to that glorious scream of an orgasm, and she couldn’t speak, she was too busy keening and whimpering and fucking his hand. Her body would arch and hold and collapse, again and again, closer each time, but still not exploding, not until he slid a third finger into her, and curled his fingers up just a touch, hitting the nubbled place inside of her that arched her back off the bed, clenching her teeth viciously together to keep from screaming as she came, throbbing around his fingers over and over and over, sure it would never end, that she would die in this moment of ecstasy.
