by Kim Jones
“Luke is around here somewhere. Come on, I’ll help you find him.” I followed Ronnie as he made his way through the crowd at a slow pace. My eyes were constantly searching; looking twice at every orange and black cut to be sure I didn’t miss him. I was so busy searching that I had not noticed Ronnie had stepped around a man blocking our path, until I ran into the back of him. The impact was so hard and sudden, that I felt myself falling back before his powerful hand grabbed my arm to hold me upright. My eyes dragged up his huge frame until they found his face, which was hard as steel, much like the rest of his body. This was the guy people pictured when they put a face to the word “biker.” He was more than intimidating, he was downright fucking scary. He wore a hat just like the one Luke often wore; black and turned backwards, with the letters DFFD stitched in orange on the back panel. His French Fork goatee was long and dark, and the whites of his eyes were slightly bloodshot, while the irises were a dull cornflower blue. His thick neck was covered in tattoos that laced through one another, creating a beautiful design that disappeared under the collar of his black t-shirt. I envisioned them continuing down his rock hard body, past his navel and to his V that I would have paid good money to see. I swallowed hard at my perverted thoughts, not believing that this man that oozed bad-boy, biker, killer, womanizer, fighter, thug-life, gangster, and panty-wetter all wrapped up in one, could have such an effect on me. I looked down at his hand, which still had a firm grip on me, and noticed the tattoos continued down his arms and to the tips of his fingers. I wasn’t sure if I was fascinated by him, scared of him, or turned on by him, but I was going to convince myself that I was scared. I had to be. Why else would my heart be hammering so hard against my chest that the sound of the music couldn’t even overpower it?
“You LLC’s girl?” he asked, and I shrank at the sound of his booming voice. Yep, definitely scary. I scanned his cut to confirm that he was a member of the Devil’s Renegades and that he was also the Sergeant At Arms. I could have guessed that one. The man could kill someone just by looking at them, I was sure of it. Instead of closing my mouth and standing up straight, I remained in the position of a wounded, frightened animal, and just nodded my head.
“Who the fuck is your friend?” I tore my eyes away from Mr. “I can snap your neck with one hand,” and found myself staring at a very beautiful, very intimidating, very pissed-off woman, whose attitude was perceptible in her stance and voice. “Who the fuck are you?” she asked, not giving the man next to me a chance to answer. I took in her appearance, from the black and orange bandana she wore over her dark hair, and the extremely large diamonds that dangled from her ears, to her perfect, bulging breasts and skin-tight, ripped jeans. Even if she wasn’t such a bitch, I still wouldn’t like her.
“She belongs to me.” Luke said, appearing beside me. When my eyes landed on him, thoughts of Mr. and Mrs. Evil Biker disappeared, as did the hand on my upper arm. Luke was shirtless and sweaty, and looked like he had just finished fucking every woman in the room, and I didn’t care. Any woman who failed to at least try was a fool in my book; not that they had a chance in hell. Now I was sure of the reason for my irregular heartbeat, thundering against my chest louder than the music. It was because of the Adonis that stood before me. Luke’s hair was getting long. It was probably long enough for me to wrap my fingers around, a theory I would test soon enough. His breathing was harsh and deep, causing his chest to heave out at an intake of breath, and his nostrils flare on the release. His body shined, the sweat glistening on every visible part of his exposed, tanned skin. The veins in his arms were big and thick, protruding from his biceps and down his forearms. His abs rippled across his stomach and couldn’t have been more perfect if they had been spray-painted on. When his tongue darted out of his mouth and across his bottom lip, moistening it before pulling it between his teeth, I lost the ability to breathe. Motherfucker. How had I survived without him? How had I allowed him to be away from me? I was in a fog, watching Luke’s lips move as he spoke, imagining what they would feel like on my pussy. When his eyes were right in front of mine, blocking my view of his chest, they moved again and I realized he was talking to me.
“Huh?” I asked weakly, my mouth dry from gaping open for so long. I quickly shut it, licking my lips as I tried to figure out what he had repeated for me, so I wouldn’t look like such a love-struck fool. I had nothing. He had repeated his words to me, and still I had no idea what he had said. Between the awe I had experienced at meeting Mr. Mean, and the sight of a half-naked Luke, I had lost all sense.
“Babe,” Luke said again, a little louder, gaining us the attention of a nearby crowd of guys.
“What?” I asked, giving him an annoyed look. Damn him for fucking up my ab-watching.
“I want you to meet some people. Officially.” Oh. Luke placed his hands on my shoulders, turning me back around to the couple whose faces of hate had turned to faces of smirking amusement. Was the smirk a biker thing? I forced a smile on my face as I stood up taller; trying to reclaim what little dignity I had left after my public eye-fucking session with Luke. “Dallas, this is my brother Shark, and his ol’ lady, Chi Chi.” I placed my hand in Shark’s, making sure my handshake was firm, as I figured his would be. Instead, he clasped my hand lightly, leaving me looking like an idiot as I squeezed the shit out of his fingers, with an overachieving firmness. The gesture earned me a friendly smile, and a small nod of respect. Chi Chi on the other hand, had a smugger smile, as she all but curtsied in sarcasm, leaving my opinion of her where it had initially stood, with a few new additives; jealous, evil, bitch. They didn’t speak to me, but stayed around, trying to form their own opinion of me as I was introduced to the other people in the group. “I know you have met Mary,” Luke said, gesturing toward the petite woman with beautiful, silver hair that fell to the tops of her shoulders.
“Hey girl,” she said, stepping forward, and surprising me with a hug that I returned awkwardly.
“And this is her husband, Big Al.” I had seen Big Al at Luke’s, but had not had the opportunity for proper introductions. Where Luke was country, Big Al was anything but. His flat bibbed hat, long silver chain and Louisiana accent was a perfect concoction, making him a biker with a hint of street thug. His warm friendly smile was welcome, and I graced him with my own, as he wrapped me in his arms in a comforting hug. I eyed Mary when he pulled away, hoping she didn’t take offense to our hands-on exchange, but she was too busy engaging in conversation with other people; a lot of other people. A throng of others had joined us and consisted of nearly everyone in the clubhouse. “This is my brother Kyle and his wife Katina.” Kyle was a man of few words with a very shy demeanor. His eyes were kind, and his smile warm, but he seemed a little nervous. Katina, on the other hand, was the complete opposite. Her flamboyant behavior consisted of a squeal, an exciting smile, and a big hug. Her long brown hair fell virtually to her waist, and its sweet scent overwhelmed my nostrils, just as it engulfed my face when she pulled me to her. Like her husband and many of the others in the Lake Charles chapter, her skin was tanned, and her accent thick. I laughed at her welcome response and accepted her hug. “And I’m sure you remember PROSPECT Chris, but you will address him as Chris.” There was a hint of warning in Luke’s voice, but I ignored it, as I smiled encouragingly at a very nervous, stuttering Chris.
“De-Devil’s Renegades PROSPECT Chris, Lake Charles, Louisiana.” Big Al clapped him on the back in approval, which only lasted a split second before someone hollered for a prospect, and he excused himself. I saw Katelyn looking uneasy and out of place nearby, and started to make my way over to her, but was stopped by Mary.
“She is a PROSPECT’s wife. You are the President’s ol’ lady. Let her come to you.” Gone was the sweet, fun, Mary and in her place was biker Mary, who was very intimidating, even though I had to look down to meet her gaze. If she had been about a foot and a half taller, my blood would have run cold at the look she gave me. I started to protest. I wanted her to know that I had once fe
lt like an outsider myself, and that I felt sorry for Katelyn, but Luke grabbed my hand and led me away.
“Come on, babe. I’ll show you where we are staying.” I followed Luke through the mass of people, and down a long corridor lined with doors that led to private rooms. At the end of the hall, we stopped in front of a wooden door with the word ‘PRESIDENT’ carved into it in a very neat script. I looked behind us, and the door across from ours had the same engraving.
“Is there something special about this room?” I asked, remembering all of the other doors were not labeled.
“Not really. It has a door that leads outside and a bigger bathroom, but all of the rooms are more or less the same.” Luke’s breath blew through my hair, sending shivers down my spine, as he leaned over me to open the door. Inside was just as I had imagined it. In many ways, it was very similar to the rooms at the clubhouse in Hattiesburg. The walls consisted of light brown paneling, with posters of motorcycles, women in bikinis, and a reaper scattered across them. Thin, black carpet lined the floors, and in the middle of the room sat a queen-size bed, with no headboard or footboard, just a frame that kept the mattresses off the floor. The door that led outside was metal, with a slide bar lock that could only be opened from the inside. A small desk with a worn chair and a lamp sat in the corner next to Luke’s bag.
“Yo, LLC. I got your ol’ lady’s shit.” I heard someone yell from outside the door. Luke opened the door, revealing a grinning Possum, holding my bag in one hand and a drink in the other. “I figured she might need this after that long-ass ride with Red and Maddie.” I smiled at him as Luke took my bag, and stepped back so that I could hug Possum. “Good to see you made it, baby.”
“Thanks, Possum. And thanks for the drink,” I said, taking it from him without question, and taking a sip. “Margarita. It’s delicious.” I licked the salt stuck to my top lip, before taking another drink.
“Thank Regg. He loves this shit. I don’t know why he can’t drink beer and liquor like the rest of us. All he needs is a little umbrella and a girdle, and I would swear he was a woman.” Possum laughed as he talked, and I found myself laughing too, yet mine was of the mental image I had of Regg in a girdle.
“Thanks, brother. I’ll see you in the morning,” a smiling Luke said, from behind me.
“Why don’t you have a shirt on?” I asked, as Luke shut the door. I didn’t really believe that he had been fucking every woman in the bar, but now that we were alone, I wanted to know.
“I was working out,” he said simply, throwing my bag down next to his, and fumbling with something on the desk. I drank in the sight of Luke and noticed that, he had indeed been working out. Perfection. That was the only way to describe Luke when he stood before me in ripped jeans that hung low on his waist, a muscular back and sweaty, messy hair. “I have been listening to this song everyday and each time I did, it made me think of you, and all the things I was going to do to you when I got home.” Luke said, turning toward me, as the music to a song I had never heard filled the room. “But, since you are here, let’s see what this house is made of.” My breath caught in my throat as Luke sauntered toward me, his eyes half closed, and full of possessiveness. I watched as he observed me in leggings, an oversized sweatshirt that hung off of one shoulder, sandals, no make-up, and my hair piled high on my head in a messy bun. I knew I looked ridiculous. There was nothing sexy or hot about my outfit, yet by the look in his eyes, one would think that I was dressed in lingerie. He stood before me, his eyes appraising my body, worshiping each fully clothed part with just a look. His hands slid up my arms and to my neck, as he turned my head slightly and brought his lips to mine, giving me a slow, lazy kiss. He began to turn me in a circle while kissing me. We were dancing to the music, my feet moving to follow his lead effortlessly. Instead of feeling that fire ignite, I felt that somatic sensation that only he was capable of giving me take over. I felt treasured by the way he kissed me, as if he had all the time in the world to make me feel loved. He broke the kiss, pulling away from my mouth long enough to pull my shirt over my head, before wrapping his hands around my waist and pulling me back to him, continuing to lead me in our circle of dance which reminded me of how romantically sweet Luke could be. My head lolled to the side, as he showered my neck in kisses and unclasped my bra. My nipples hardened immediately, and I released an audible sigh as I basked in the pleasure of the feel of his naked chest against mine. His mouth made its way down my neck, to the hollow of my throat and across my collar bone, before continuing its way between my breasts, down to my stomach and my navel. When he dropped to his knees before me, kissing along the edge of my pants across my stomach, I realized that this was an intimate side of Luke that I had yet to experience. Sure it was great when he made love to me and fucked me into a haze of dizziness, but Luke’s intimacy was something that made me feel cherished, and loved, and like I was the only woman in the world. I felt… precious, as if there was nothing as valuable to him as me. I looked down at him as my hands caressed his soft, damp hair. I watched as he pulled my sandals off, then ran his hands back up my legs to grip the hem of my pants and slide them down, kissing the exposed skin as he went. The music stopped then started again playing the same tune. I was glad he had placed it on repeat. I loved the way the music flowed so perfectly with Luke’s actions. I was left standing in nothing but a pair of black panties that Luke took his time to remove, being sure to kiss each place he revealed in appreciation, with a light touch of tongue and two full lips. When I was completely naked and showered in his kisses, when not a single inch of my body was not tingling from the feel of his lips, he carried me in his arms and laid me down on the bed, gently removing his arms from under me as if I were porcelain, and he was afraid he might break me. He stood tall over me, his lips parted, his eyes shining, and a look of admiration on his face while he took in all that was me, as I lay completely nude before him. I watched as he took his time removing his jeans first, then followed this by taking off his black boxer briefs, which were stretched across the swelling that was continuing to grow inside them. Luke knelt on the bed, kissing the inside of my thighs as he positioned himself between my legs. His mouth avoided the center of me that craved him, in turn, devoting his attention to the areas that were usually forgotten in the heat of the moment. I wanted to squirm under him. I wanted to beg him to take me, but I knew that this was something so much more. Something I desired and didn’t even know. This was something I needed, a show of intimate affection from the man I had given my heart to. When Luke made his way to my face, tears pricked the back of my eyes at his words, as he rubbed my hair, and spoke so softly to me that I was sure his tongue had turned to satin. “You are the reason I live. You are the reason I get up every fucking morning of my life. There is not one thing you could do to make me love you less, or make me want you more. I feel you, Dallas. I feel you in places inside me that I didn’t know existed. You are just as much a part of me as the heart that beats in my chest keeping me alive and on this earth another day. Each day I love you is a day I will never regret. Everyone receives a gift that’s worth dying for at some point in their life. Dallas, you are my gift.” The sincerity in his words was almost too much. I felt like Luke was saying goodbye. I felt like there was something he was trying to tell me, but knew that he couldn’t. My thoughts were washed away that night, replaced with the feeling of bliss as he made love to me, passionate love that was so amazingly intimate that, as I fell asleep in Luke’s arms with the lyrics of Eric Church’s “Like a Wrecking Ball” playing in my ears, I felt him in places I didn’t know existed either.
Chapter 13
Dallas
Something woke me only a couple of hours after I had gone to sleep. I looked out the window to find it still dark outside. Luke’s side of the bed was empty, and a sudden feeling of uneasiness washed over me. I heard the sound of a thud, followed by the sound of chains rattling and sat up, listening harder to see if I could figure out where the noise was coming from. The sound came again,
and I turned my head to the right, to find the door leading outside unlocked. I grabbed my sweater from the floor, pulling it over my head, and stepped into my leggings. I walked to the door, not giving myself time to be nervous or scared of what I would find, and pushed it open. It was the early hours of the morning, and I saw Luke dressed in basketball shorts, tennis shoes, and no shirt, hitting a punching bag. He didn’t seem to have any set strategy, which told me that he was not working out, he was venting. Something was on his mind, and he was trying to clear his head by beating the shit out of some imaginary person. I watched him for a minute, as he bounced lightly on his feet, hammering away at the bag, as it swung from side to side. We were in an alley between two buildings, and I noticed the area was filled with grills, tables, workout equipment and a dumpster. A tall, iron gate sealed off both exits, and kept it clear of any traffic. A large street lamp hung on the side of the building, casting an eerie glow over the alley.
“Luke,” I said, getting his attention immediately. He turned to look at me, not moving or speaking, just staring at me across the dimly lit street. “Everything okay?” I asked, wishing I could see his face better. He was breathing heavily, his shoulders rising and falling, while his hands stayed at his hips. Was he pissed at me?
“Yeah, babe. I’m okay. Just go back to sleep. I’ll be there soon,” he said, his breathing irregular and harsh.
“You know, we can talk about it. I know something is bothering you. You can tell me.” I expected his response before I received it. At times like this, Luke was very predictable.
“I’m good. I’ll be in soon.” He had still made no effort to come to me, and I was frozen in place as well. I wanted to go to him, but something told me to just give him some space. I walked inside, my mind spinning as to what could be wrong. He had asked me to come, and had made love to me, and then I find him outside only hours later, venting about something he was refusing to talk about. I wasn’t surprised or pissed that he wasn’t sharing, but, after his speech, I was worried. I didn’t like the way he was talking as if he might go away and never come back, and wanting me to know just how much he loved me. I crawled back into bed, fully clothed, despite the stifling humidity, and curled up facing the door. I would know when he came through it, and I refused to fall asleep until he did. What couldn’t have been more than five minutes had passed when Luke made his way inside, securing the door and going straight to the bathroom, without a single glance my way. I heard the shower start, and something came over me.
