by April Lust
I smiled down at the smoky brown liquor in my hand, knowing it would help take the edge off and make me look a little more natural. I was at home. I didn’t know why I was having so much trouble looking less awkward.
“I, uh, don’t have anything to wear,” Clara’s voice came from behind as I raised the glass to my lips.
I paused for just a moment and tilted my head. I downed my whiskey in one gulp, as if it had been a single shot. The smooth burn melted off my anxiety. I expected—and hoped—to see her standing naked just inside the dining room.
She wasn’t far from naked, though, with just a towel wrapped around her breasts and reaching down just far enough to hide the prize waiting for me between her legs. I poured another glass before walking around to her.
Her skin looked so much softer, smoother after her shower. Her hair, not quite dry yet, was still clinging to her neck and the back of her shoulders. I ran a hand up one of her slender arms. She was so much thinner out of those clothes! Her skin was silky smooth.
“I guess you can’t walk around naked, can you?” I asked her.
I grabbed one of her hands and put the whiskey glass in it. She took a sip from it and stared at me with those intense blue eyes. She didn’t even wince as she swallowed a pretty thirsty gulp of the amber liquor. She handed the glass back to me as I ran a hand down along her wet hair.
We were almost the same height. She was just a few inches shorter, enough difference that we didn’t quite see eye to eye standing next to each other. My shoulders engulfed her. I wanted to take her in my arms and hold her against me, to protect her, but I also knew she didn’t need or want protecting. This woman could stand on her own and carry her own weight.
“You wouldn’t happen to have anything that would fit me, would you?” she asked shyly.
“Right, clothes. Come on, we’ll find something.” I walked into my closet and looked through my hanging shirts. I had a few dress shirts that would look perfect on her. I grabbed one and pulled it off the hanger to hand it to her.
“Any shorts or anything I can borrow? I’m sorry to be so needy,” she apologized, “but I wasn’t planning on getting caught.”
I laughed as I pulled out some boxers, searching for a pair that was tight on me.
“Something told me not to get rid of these,” I said, tossing an older pair of boxer shorts over to her.
“Are you going to stand around and watch me? Or can I have a little privacy?” she asked.
“Yeah, sorry. I’ll be in the living room,” I told her, stepping out of the bedroom and pulling the door closed behind me. I stood with my back against the door for a moment, hoping to hear some sign that she was getting dressed, but all was silent behind the door. Plus, the TV in the living room was loud enough to drown out anything I might have heard anyway.
“Soon enough,” I said under my breath as I walked away from my bedroom door back to my spot on the couch.
A few moments later, she walked out in my shirt and boxers. My shirt swallowed her, but I could see her tan skin through the white fabric, stirring the same desire I felt for her back in the basement at HQ.
“Do you have any more of that whiskey?” she asked as she walked into the living room.
“Sure. Let me fix you a glass.” I took a drink from mine and got up for a refill and a glass for her.
She sat down on the couch across from where I’d been sitting. When I came back into the living room, I walked up behind her and passed the glass over her shoulder. I watched as her gentle, thin fingers wrapped around the glass and took it from me.
“So, tell me a little about yourself, Clara Burton,” I said as I sat back down across from her.
“I’ve already told you everything there is to know,” she said, crossing her long, thin, tanned and toned legs. Every inch of her body, from the tips of her toes to the top of her head, was delicious. I wanted a taste.
“No, tell me how you got into the business,” I told her, sitting back.
“That’s a long story, Mason, and I don’t think we’re at that point yet,” she said. She stared at her glass with a contemplative look in her eye. The playful humor was gone from her voice now.
“I’m sorry. I guess we need to play by the same rules we had back in the basement. I ask, and you answer only if you feel comfortable. How does that sound?” I asked with a chuckle, trying to lighten the mood again.
“I don’t know that I want to play,” she said, getting up from the couch and walking around to the back of the living room to look up at the abstract painting I had hanging on the wall opposite the TV.
I watched her body as she walked, appreciating the slope of her back, the curve of her tight little ass. I needed an excuse to get up and follow her, to stand behind her with my hardening desire, to press it against her and work our bodies out of our clothes.
“Who’s the artist?” she asked absently, her attention taken by the lines and shapes, the smudges and sprinkles of paint spread over the mostly white canvas that took up most of the wall. That was my cue to pursue her.
“It’s a local artist,” I told her as I got up from the couch to follow her. “I had it commissioned when I moved in.”
“You don’t strike me as the artsy type,” she said, amused, looking back at me as I walked up to her.
“I don’t know.” I shrugged. “I just like her work,” I told her. I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her back to me. She leaned her head back on my shoulder, still looking at the painting, still laughing at me.
“Oh, it’s a she now? I bet you did like her work,” Clara teased.
“I did,” I said as I turned my attention away from the painting and to the lovely tanned neck presenting itself to me. I couldn’t hold back anymore. I leaned in and gently placed my lips against her warm, smooth skin.
She moaned and grabbed the back of my head, holding me in place on her neck as I kissed her. She melted against me.
I could feel the shape of her body perfectly underneath the clothes I gave her. I pressed myself between the curves of her ass.
She turned her face to me, and our lips met, sending electricity through my body. The pleasure of the touch of her soft lips against mine surged through me, hardening my shaft against her. Our mouths opened, and our tongues met in the middle, twisting around each other, stroking each other.
Clara turned around and pressed her breasts against me. They were full and round, though perky and petite. I put my free hand on the small of her back and pulled her smooth, flat stomach against me while my lips pressed against her mouth and my tongue probed deep into her.
At that moment, I knew I could have had her. I knew if one of us didn’t pull away soon, we were going to end up on the couch, the floor, the bed, somewhere, naked, joined at the hip with my cock deep inside her. I didn’t want to give it to her too quickly, though. I wanted to build up her desire for me, her longing, her need for me, so once we did come together, I would have more control over the situation.
I pulled slowly away, and our eyes opened to greet each other.
“Forget the whiskey, I could use more of that,” Clara said to me, pressing a hungry hand against my chest while she took another sip from her glass.
“Well, play time’s over for now,” I told her. “We’ve got to get back to HQ.”
“I thought we were through with you trying to get secrets out of me,” she said, her voice heavy with warmth and desire.
“Yeah, but that’s not what I want out of you now,” I told her, letting the obvious suggestion hang in the air between us.
“Really,” she said with a sexy little grin. “What about my clothes?”
“We’ll handle that.”
Chapter 7
Clara
My mind was reeling from how quickly everything was moving all of a sudden. When we got back to HQ, Mason called a meeting. I quickly excused myself, not wanting to infringe on anything too private, though I knew I was missing important information that Skull would have
wanted by dipping out of the meeting. I was on the verge of panic. I needed to get in touch with Skull to ground myself again.
I had charged my phone while I was at Mason’s apartment. Carrying my backpack into the bathroom with me, I had plugged it in under his counter. When I fished it back out at HQ, it had just enough battery life for me to try to call my boss. I couldn’t risk trying to listen to all the voicemails he’d left me and killing my phone in the process.
I hurried downstairs to the basement, sure I would be alone to talk freely away from everyone’s prying eyes and ears. It went to voicemail after a few rings. I checked over my shoulder to see if anyone was around before leaving a message in a hushed voice.
“Hey, it’s me. I don’t have long. My phone’s about to die. I wanted to let you know I’m okay. I haven’t listened to your messages, but I’m okay. I’ll get back in touch as soon as I can,” I said quickly.
I disconnected the call and put the phone away in the pocket of the jeans Mason had bought me on the way in from his apartment. All of the clothes I was wearing were new, all purchased with the sizes I told him, but bought with his tastes in mind. I thought I looked damn good with the flowing, low cut black top, the tight jeans that loved my ass, and the perfect bra and panties that told me exactly what he had in mind for later. Having these clothes on was like having his hands on me. It was a delicious feeling.
Then, I heard footsteps coming down the concrete steps behind me. I turned around, hoping to see Mason, but it wasn’t him. It was an older member of Storm’s Angels in a worn leather vest, an old ragged t-shirt, and tired jeans that seemed to wear every single year he’d been riding. He wore sunglasses and had his salt and pepper—mostly salt—hair pulled back in a long ponytail reaching down his back. His vest had more patches on it than anyone else I’d seen so far. He’d been with them a while.
“What’s going on down here?” he taunted as he reached the bottom of the stairs and started walking towards me.
“Nothing, just needed to get away for a minute.” I backed away nervously. “I had to make a phone call,” I told him.
“Oh, a phone call. I see. You wouldn’t happen to be calling your boss to let him know you were in with Mason, would you?” He moved like a snake as he approached me, backing me into a corner. He wasn’t built the way the rest of the guys were. He was thin and ratty, covered in old, faded tattoos. His breath smelled of cigars and whiskey with a hint of pot hanging over him.
I wasn’t sure what the protocol was now. Normally in this type of situation, I wouldn’t have had any trouble handling him, but as a guest, I wasn’t sure Mason wanted to come downstairs and find one of his members face down in his own blood, especially someone who’d probably been with the MC longer than he had been.
“What’s your game, old timer?” I asked him with a tough edge in my voice, trying to let him know I wasn’t one to fuck with.
“No game, princess. I just don’t like spies and thieves hanging around my MC. That’s all. I know what you’re up to. You may have Mason fooled, but you won’t get by Liam, baby doll.” He ran a hand through my hair, and it was all I could take.
“You don’t touch me, old man,” I snapped, smacking his arm away from me. “I may be here as your boss’s guest, but that doesn’t change what I will do to you if you touch me again.”
“Hey, hey, hey! What’s going on down here?” Mason called out from behind Liam.
“Just checking out your new toy, son,” Liam said venomously as he walked past Mason and up the stairs. “I’d keep an eye on her if I were you.”
“Are you okay?” Mason asked, rushing to my side as Liam ascended the stairs out of the basement.
“Yeah, I’m fine, but you might want to keep an eye on your boy,” I told him.
“What do you mean?” He took me by the arm and guided me away from the wall.
I looked at him and took a deep breath, shaking my head. Then I realized my whole body was quaking from anger and adrenaline.
“Clara, what’s going on?” Mason asked, the concern in his voice growing.
“He cornered me, Mason,” I told him. “He pushed me downstairs and cornered me. He ran his fingers through my hair and kept talking about how I was your new plaything. He told me he wanted a taste, too, and that you were going to pass me around the MC once you had your fill of me. What the hell?” I gave in to my shakes and stress, letting a few tears roll down my cheeks for emphasis.
I knew that wasn’t what had happened, but I wanted to test Mason and see what he would do if I had been threatened by one of his guys, no matter who it was.
“Are you serious right now?” Mason asked, all emotion gone from his voice.
I looked at him with sad, teary eyes and nodded. Inside, I was cracking up, but I maintained a straight face through it all.
“Come upstairs,” he said in a commanding tone, and for a moment, I thought I was in trouble. The whole way up the stairs, being led by my hand, I just knew he’d seen through my show and was going to let me have it in front of everyone before sending me off.
That wasn’t what happened at all. When we reached the top of the stairs, he waved Alec over. I remembered him from the times he watched me.
“Clara, good to see you out of the chair,” he joked as he approached.
“Listen, keep an eye on her for a minute. I’ve got some business to handle,” Mason said as he walked away, leaving me in Alec’s care.
I cut my eyes to Alec and saw the nervous look on his face while he watched Mason. I could see that having me out of bondage made him anxious, and I smiled. He was a lot smarter than that jackass who’d just practically attacked me downstairs. I watched Mason walking towards him.
The bay doors were open to let the light and fresh air in. Guys were coming and going on their bikes. It wasn’t a constant traffic, but it seemed pretty steady. A few would leave, and a few more would show up after a small interval. I could see how Mason and Storm’s Angels were so powerful. They were huge. They were big enough that this couldn’t have been the only chapter.
“Hey, Liam,” I heard Mason shout as he reached the old timer. “Kill the bike!”
Liam killed the bike and climbed off of it to stand up straight in front of Mason. He may not have been built as thick as his younger counterpart, but he definitely seemed bigger when he wanted to. He was probably former military, probably served overseas with lots of war stories to share.
They looked like they were having words, but I couldn’t hear what they were saying. I started walking towards them, as did just about everyone else in the room. Pretty soon, we all encircled Mason and Liam in a semi-circle that left only the bay door open as a way out. I looked around all the stern faces looking at their leader and a member who had have some kind of status among them.
“What’s everyone’s opinion of Liam?” I asked Alec, sort of as an aside. I didn’t want him to think I was trying to drive a wedge between the men.
“He’s a grouchy old-timer. I don’t think anyone really likes him,” Alec said.
“Who’s that?” I asked, pointing at the large bald man with a full, glorious beard and a tribal tattoo wrapping around his shaved head.
“That’s Mick. He’s Mason’s right-hand man.”
“He looks like he got kicked out of ZZ Top,” I told him with a light laugh.
“Yeah, he does. Or like he kicked them out,” Alec offered. “I wouldn’t want to tangle with him.”
“I wouldn’t either, but it looks like Liam is about to tangle with both of them,” I told him.
I still couldn’t hear what they were saying, but I saw Liam lift an old battle-worn hand and point at me. That was when Mason lunged forward, planting a fist in the old man’s face and shoving him back with a couple of shots to his chest when he didn’t immediately go down.
Mick followed closely behind him. It looked like Liam was trying to crawl away on his back, but Mason stood over him. I clearly saw a hand held up to block any further blows. Mason loo
ked like he said something to Mick over his shoulder, and the muscleman came back inside for Liam’s motorcycle. He lifted it off the ground and chucked it outside, returning to Mason’s side to watch the old man get up and walk to his bike.
He shouted something back at the men standing in the bay door, watching him. He stood up his bike, climbed on, and fired up the engine.
Mason and Mick walked back in to a round of applause from the rest of the MC, myself and Alec included, but Mason shook his head with a serious look on his face. Mick joined the group as everyone went back to what they were doing.
“Thanks, Alec. I’ll take her from here.” Mason wrapped an arm around my waist and started walking me away from the scene.
