by K E Osborn
Scratch runs his fingers through his long brown locks and shakes his head. “Too far… too fucking far.”
I let out a small chuckle as I glance at her sideways and then ask the question running around my head since I spoke to Smokin’ Joe. “Why do they call you Spanner?”
She snorts rolling her eyes like she’s had to tell this story a thousand times. “So I’m pretty sure you know Smokin’ Joe’s all Australian. Back in the land down under they call wrenches, spanners. Since moving to the States, he hasn’t been able to shake off his Aussie slang.” She cocks her lips up in a grin. “Even though he’s been here close to thirty-five years, he still talks like the Crocodile Hunter.”
A slow smile creeps on my face watching her talk about Smokin’ Joe. She definitely has affection for him.
“So, for me to fit into the shop, be one of the guys, he thought it best I have a nickname. Spanner it was, and has been since I can remember.” A look of fondness crosses her face, and I can’t help but smile. As we approach Scratch’s ride, her eyes open wide as she looks at his mangled bike. She pulls to a halt and places her toolbox on the ground tilting her head. “This is the ride I need to look at?”
Scratch nods. “She’s my baby.”
Spanner winces and looks over the bike from a distance. “What the hell happened?”
“One of my brothers hit her with a fucking truck,” Scratch replies, and she lets out a loud laugh and nods like this is a normal everyday occurrence.
“Okay, well, you’re gonna have to bring that hunk of tin to my shop.”
I look to her and puff out my chest. “No. You can fix it here.”
She finally glances over at me and raises her brow assessing me as her eyes wander my body looking me up and down. The simple gesture makes my cock damn-well throb.
“You don’t have the things I need here.” Her tone drops an octave, her voice taking on a sexy huskier tone, and with that, my cock instantly begins to harden.
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! What the hell is this woman playing at right now?
Well, I can play just as easily.
“Right then, Spanner, what do you need?” I ask looking back at her right into her hazel eyes. Our eyes lock, and I notice her breath catches. She might be playing a game with me, but we’re both being affected by each other right now. The staring between us is making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end as silence engulfs the compound, and all background noise seems to cease. The tension rises as she swallows hard and then finally looks away from me breaking our connection as she stares back at the bike.
Spanner smiles and runs her hand along the crumpled tank. “Well then, I need an industrial-size dumpster because that ride… is fucked.”
That’s her answer after our moment? Whatever the fuck that moment was shocks me, and I furrow my brows in annoyance.
“What the fuck did you just say?” I reply, my anger taking hold before I can contain myself.
She looks at me with a smirk. “It’s fucked. Scopata. Baisée. Gefickt. Jodido. Körd… comprende?”
Hearing her say fucked in five different languages with such fluidity and ease has my body working overtime keeping itself together. This woman might look like a firecracker, a tough nut who only works as a mechanic and knows nothing other than engines, but I can tell just from that little display, she’s smart despite what her looks tell me about her. This has my cock aching even harder, and I’m trying everything in my power to keep myself in check right now.
Scratch bursts out laughing. I’m nothing but confused seeing as how he was just told his ride is totaled. Shouldn’t he be devastated by this news? Not laughing at this woman’s apparent talent for linguistic flair.
I turn to Scratch as my brows crease together. “Are you not annoyed your ride is trashed?”
He nods with a broad smile. “Well, yeah, but watching you squirm is sooo worth it.”
Scrunching up my face, I scoff out a, “Fuck off.”
Scratch then turns to Spanner. “So, really, you can’t fix her?”
Spanner shakes her head running her hand over the tank and grimacing. “Nah, man, your ride’s toast.”
Scratch slumps and frowns. “Shit!” He lets out an exaggerated sigh and shrugs. “Thanks anyway.” He turns walking off hurriedly leaving me with Spanner as she watches him march away.
Raising a brow at Scratch’s strange behavior, I turn back to see Spanner running her hands all over his bike, her eyes focusing on certain parts as she tinkers with small sockets and runs her fingers over the bent air filter.
I fold my arms over my chest. “What the fuck are you doing now?”
She doesn’t look at me or stop what she’s doing but continues to check over the bike. “It can still be used for spare parts. Chillax. You’re so uptight.”
Relaxing my muscles slightly, I drop my arms from around me and let out a small huff. “Things are… tense here at the moment.”
She turns her head to look at me and nods blowing another bubble and letting it pop. “Yeah… you’re a biker. Shit’s always tense. It’s how you deal with it that makes the man.” She turns back to the bike as I raise my brow at her words and watch her working on Scratch’s bike. Her body is riddled with tattoos—she’s definitely hot as fuck. I had no idea Smokin’ Joe had someone like Spanner working for him. Joe normally comes here on his own and never mentioned he had people at his shop. Never had to until now I suppose.
“So, Spanner… do you work for Smokin’ Joe full-time?” I ask wondering if there’s a way I can maybe try to see her again. She’s captured my attention in more than the usual way, and all I know is I don’t want this to be the last time I see her.
She snorts. “Yeah, I’m his right-hand man. But I’ll probably be taking over sooner rather than later. But that’s a whole kettle of fish I’d rather not fry right now.”
“Okay… well, if I agree to let you have Scratch’s bike for spare parts… you have to agree to let me bring it to the shop for you.”
She stands up from her crouched position and looks me up and down, a faint blush spreading across her cheeks, and she smirks. “Is this your way of trying to see me again?” She blows a big bubble, the bubble pops, and then she licks the gum back into her mouth.
Fucking hell! I take a breath and try to center myself.
“I’m just trying to get you your parts, Spanner… make of that what you will.”
She snorts and rolls her eyes turning back to the bike. “Man, you’re wound up tighter than an inmate in the shower room of the local jail who just dropped his damn soap.”
Raising my brow, my lips turn up slightly in a small smile as she grabs hold of the fog lamp and twists it slightly making it fall out.
She lets out a small giggle while shaking her head as she turns back to me and sighs. “Okay, bring the bike to me, so I can scrap her for parts, and then we’ll go from there… yeah, pretty boy?”
My smile falls, and I scowl at her. “Pretty boy?”
She laughs. “You should see your face right now. Fucking priceless! What’s your road name, pretty?”
Folding my arms over my chest again, I stand taller looking down at her through strong eyes, but she doesn’t even budge at my firm glare. She simply pops another bubble while waiting for me to talk.
This woman! She really has no fear.
“First of all, you think it’s okay to talk to a brother this way?”
She smiles. “Well, thing is, I’m not scared of bikers like most women. I can handle myself. So that death glare you’re shooting through at me right now is doing nothing but sending your blood pressure sky high. Might want to take some aspirin or something in case you have a heart attack too with the way your face is turning red there, pretty.”
The way she’s talking is having the most remarkable effect on me. That typhoon standing in front of me is also swarming around inside of me, and it’s one of anger and one of insatiable damn lust. Her answering back and talking with such intent is something
I’m not used to from women. I’ve only ever had women either falling at my feet or being completely terrified of me. But never, ever, have I had one treat me the way Spanner is right now.
It’s throwing me off my game.
“Call me pretty one more time…” I pause and crease my brows, “… and I will show you just how pretty a shade of red will be on your ass when I’m through with you.”
She waggles her eyebrows salaciously and pops a bubble leaning in closer to me. “Who says I wouldn’t like that?”
My damn cock springs to attention as she lets out a small chuckle while turning and bending over to look at something else on the bike. I can’t help but stare at her perfect round ass as it sits right in front of me, even in those baggy coveralls, and I tilt my head knowing she did that on purpose.
Fuck me! This woman is a fucking tease.
“When can you have her to me, biker with no name?” Spanner asks as she stands up folding her arms just under her breasts pushing them up, so they look extra pert and ready for the taking.
Fucking hell!
Trying to keep my eyes up and on her eyes is taking every ounce of strength I have as I grin. “Sensei, my road name is Sensei.”
“Hmm… I like it. Suits you. Which style is your poison?” she asks, and I know exactly what she means.
“Jujutsu.”
She nods, pursing her lips. “The Japanese style of Jujitsu, I’m impressed.” She smirks. “So, if you’re into that shit… you into tantric and the Kama Sutra, too? You look the type.”
Letting out a puff of air half surprised that she knows the difference between Brazilian and Japanese martial arts, and also at the blasé way she’s asked that question, I move awkwardly as she watches me assessing my every move. “Umm… not that it is any of your business… but no… I haven’t studied the ways of tantric nor the Kama Sutra… but, I’m well versed in the ways of… fucking women…” I narrow my eyes at her, “… hard.”
A slow smile grows on her lips as she blows another bubble, and it pops. She sucks the gum back into her mouth and raises her brow at me, another shade of pink slowly creeps over her cheeks like she’s affected by what I’ve just said.
“Good to know.” She leans down grabbing her toolbox and turns stepping off leaving me next to the bike completely stunned.
“See ya ‘round… pretty,” she calls out and then picks up her step as she heads out of the gate to her car.
While I watch her walk out, I think of the only thing crossing my mind right now—her, bent over my knee and me spanking the ever-loving shit out of her like I promised I’d do.
Fuck! This woman has gotten under my skin, and this doesn’t happen to me. I use women as a means to release tension, and Spanner’s only making tension rise inside of me. She’s testing me. Unraveling all my emotions. And I’m unsure whether I love it or loathe the feeling. The only thing I know for sure is I will be the one to take Scratch’s ride to Smokin’ Joe’s Garage. Because I cannot let that encounter be the last time I see her.
Spanner steps around the side of the gate and Gatekeeper closes it behind her. I rub the back of my neck wondering what the hell just happened as I turn and head inside to find Vibe. He’s the man I need right now. Striding into the clubhouse, the general low drawl of Led Zeppelin rings over the speakers as I head straight for the bar. Vibe is seated next to Scratch as he drowns his sorrows.
“So Spanner said it was completely totaled?” Vibe asks, his Finnish accent coming through strong, especially on the word ‘was.’
Scratch groans banging his head on the bar with frustration. “My ride’s fucked. May as well throw it on the shit pile.”
“Well, at least you can buy a new baby now?” Vibe questions but it’s more of a statement as I step up to them, and Vibe looks at me with a shrug. His ice-blue eyes shining bright against his almost white hair, it’s so blond. He looks like some model from a Finnish magazine. Well, all except for the bruises which still adorn his face from the smack down the Ishikawa gave him.
Scratch groans out a muffled “yeah,” and I place my hand on his back in an attempt to try to soothe him.
“I’m glad you feel that way, brother…” My eyes dart to the ceiling. “I’m wondering if you would be opposed to the idea of letting Spanner have her for parts? I’m sure she’d pay you for the parts she uses.”
Scratch looks up with a forlorn appearance on his face, and he frowns.
There’s not one brother at the club who wouldn’t be fucking devastated if they lost their ride, so we all feel for Scratch. Our bikes are like an extension of our bodies, and we treasure them. They mean more than just a damn machine to us. Our rides hold down a set of ideals which celebrate more than just our freedom on the road but also undeniable loyalty to our club.
“My baby’s gonna be recycled?” He groans but slowly nods his head. “I guess it’s like her being a fucking organ donor.”
Vibe chuckles, and I nod. “Precisely. She can be reborn and live on as parts for other bikes, brother.”
“Yeah, fine! Send her to the fucking scrap hounds. Just make sure I get some money for her,” he demands, and I nod.
“Want me to take care of it for you?”
His lips turn up in a small smirk. “Oh… so you can deal with the sexy Spanner personally?”
“I’ll conduct business with her… yes.”
“Uh-huh, business. If that’s what you call it these days, brother.” Scratch smirks lifting up his hand, and Vibe smacks him in a high five.
Ignoring him with a grunt, I turn to Vibe. “Vibe, can you come with me to deliver the bike to Smokin’ Joe’s Garage.”
Vibe nods and smirks. “Yep, but it’ll have to be tomorrow. Truck’s in the workshop getting the radiator repaired.”
Taking a deep breath, I smile.
Tomorrow.
I will see Spanner again tomorrow.
“Good… tomorrow it is then.”
I turn and walk off, leaving Scratch and Vibe to drink alone while I head to the sleeping quarters to check on the preparations of the rooms for my family. They will be here soon, and I need to know everything’s in working order. But as I walk, I pull out my cell and dial Smokin’ Joe’s number. It rings, and he answers fairly quickly.
“What?”
“Joe, it’s Sensei… Spanner just left. But she asked about having the bike delivered to the shop for spare parts. Can you let her know I’ll be by tomorrow with the bike?”
“Yeah… is that all?” he asks then breaks out into a fit of coughing.
Wincing, I sigh. “Yes, tomorrow.”
He continues to cough and splutter, and then suddenly, the line goes dead like he’s hung up. Raising my brow, I nod. “Good chat,” and keep walking down the hall.
I notice Ruby coming out of one of the bedrooms, and she smiles. “Oh, hey, Sensei. I’ve made up the two rooms for your family. They’re all set to go. Trax helped me put together a bunk bed for the girls, but don’t worry, we fought the urge to christen them.”
Screwing up my face, I let out a grunt while she giggles. “Ruby, the mere fact that you even thought about fucking in the room my sisters will be sleeping in… is disturbing to me.”
She snorts out a laugh and slaps my chest. “Oh, Sensei, lighten up. It was just a joke. Did anyone ever tell you you’re too tense?”
“Oddly enough… all the time.”
She smiles. “Then perhaps you should… let go a little. Find a woman who can unleash that beast inside of you, Sensei. You deserve to let your inner wild child flow free. Let your inner feng shui out or whatever it is you’re into.”
Cocking my head, I smirk. “Just because I’m Asian does not mean I’m into feng shui.”
She chuckles again not caring. “Gaaa… I’m trying to help you grow. Sensei, live a little, try something different. Be spontaneous. When was the last time you did something that wasn’t calculated to death first after you went through all the possible scenarios in your head before you did
it?”
My Adam’s apple bobs up and down in my throat. “This discussion is closed, Ruby.”
She chuckles. “We’ll get you out of your Ninja Turtle shell.”
“Jesus Christ, Ruby. Don’t talk to a brother like that…” I let it float for a moment before continuing, “Go make yourself useful.”
She chuckles while starting to walk off. “Yes, oh wise Master Splinter,” she mocks calling me the name of the Ninja Turtles pet rat as she skips off down the hall.
Luckily, I’m in a normal mood and let it slide. Shaking my head, I open the door to the first bedroom and walk in to see the bunk beds made up. The pink comforters are sitting nicely on the beds, and the white pillows are fluffed up to perfection. The room is sparse, but there’s a desk on the far wall big enough for them to both sit and do their homework if they need to. Ruby’s done a great job. There’s even a vase of flowers on the desk.
I dislike the fact my kid sisters will be here for God only knows how long. They’re both naturally shy, but mischievous at the best of times, and being here, in this environment, might push them further into their shells. At least I’ll have Ruby to look out for them. The other club girls will help as well, I’m sure.
I know Ruby likes to harass me, at the best of times, but she only has our best interests at heart. She’s a club girl, and they’re mostly here for our enjoyment. But Ruby’s been with the club for a long time—since she was eighteen. She’s twenty-four now and hasn’t looked back since joining. She’s a true asset as much as she tries and sometimes succeeds in giving us shit.
She runs this place to perfection, and she does it well. Though, I think with Foxy being claimed, she might come in and shake things up a bit being the top woman. It could put Ruby’s nose out of joint for a while.
Ruby knows her place when she needs to. She knows how we treat our club girls and is fine with her position in our club. She does get some liberties due to the time she’s been around, but she knows the main reason for being here is to service us when we want her and to be quiet and respectful the rest of time. Club girls’ duties also include keeping the clubhouse clean and tidy along with kitchen duties. So, it will be interesting to see how she takes to Foxy, and how Foxy will take to club life. My gut instinct is Foxy will adapt with skill and ease.
