by April Lust
“Torture.”
I laugh softly, then pull out my seat beside him and sit down.
“We’ll get there. Remember, it’s a journey, not a destination.” I bite my lip, unable to believe that I just said something so ridiculous.
At the end of the night, Mitch is thanking me heartily. “Oh my God, thank you so much, Miss Grayson. I get it now, I get it!”
“Mitch, I’m really happy with your success. But remember, you did it. Not me. I just gave you a different path to follow to reach the answers.”
“Miss Grayson,” Mitch says nervously. He twists his hands in front of me.
“Please. Call me ‘Vivian.’”
“Vivian, would you possibly want to join me for a slice of pizza at Jerry’s?”
Oh, no. Here it comes.
“Um, gosh, I really would like that,” I say. “But it’s against department regulations to socialize with the students I teach. I could get in a lot of trouble. I’m sure you understand.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Mitch mumbles under his breath. Part of me wonders if he’s going to correct me—I’m not really a teacher. I’m still a student myself. Tutoring people like Mitch is how I’m earning my degree.
I’m not sure Mitch does understand. He looks kind of pissed. As if he’s done a great deal of working towards something that I’ve just taken away from him.
“Well,” I say brightly. “Good night, then. See you soon, Mitch.”
I can tell that Mitch’s about to say something else when I turn on my heel and walk out of the library. Part of me is even listening for the booming sound of his voice. But nothing comes, and a hot wave of relief washes over me when I make it through the library doors.
Luckily for me, it’s stopped raining. I’ve got my key in the car door lock when I feel him at my back. Of course I don’t know who he is specifically. I know it’s a he, though. It’s funny how your senses just know these things. Maybe it’s simply because I’m a woman.
But then, I feel breath against my neck—hot and fast. There’s a foul smell in the air, like whoever’s behind me hasn’t thought to brush his teeth in days. And that’s when I hear the ominous warning. “Keep quiet, sweetheart, and don’t put up a fight. This will all be over soon.”
My brain flashes into panic mode and my muscles tense up. God, I wish I’d said yes to Mitch, I think desperately. When I feel strong hands clamp down on my shoulders, I try to struggle, but the strange man is strong and easily overpowers me. He starts dragging me to what looks like a beat-up black subcompact car parked off to the side of the lot. I’m panicking and can’t seem to overcome him, but I still can’t give up the struggle just yet. I may be a timid and cautious person, but I can be stubborn as hell.
“Stop struggling, you little bitch,” the stranger hisses in my ear. “You ain’t goin’ nowhere.”
All of a sudden, I can hear the loud roar of what can only be a motorcycle. A huge man on a monstrous black beast of a bike roars up next to us in a flash. It all seems to happen in slow motion, yet at the same time, it’s all over in an instant.
The unknown biker hops off his bike, runs up to us, and punches my attacker hard in the face. I can’t help but cry out as the strange man who’d attacked me falls to the ground, yelling out in pain and covering his now-bloody nose with both grimy hands.
Backing away, I’m shaking my head and looking wildly back and forth at the both of them, trying to discern their identities. The man on the ground is wearing what looks like a ski cap pulled low over his eyes—all I can make out is a stubbly chin and pimpled skin. The man on the motorcycle is wearing a glossy black helmet. He’s my savior, I realize. The thought sends another terrifying shiver through my body.
My savior starts towards me. “You okay?” His voice comes out as a growl—like a vicious dog. But I know he’s not going to hurt me…at least I hope he won’t.
There is something about that voice. I don’t recognize it, but I feel a strange stirring inside me as if that voice is a question and only my body knows the answer. A shot of awareness seems to pierce throughout my stomach and outwards towards my limbs. My whole body is tingling and hot.
“Yeah, I’m fine, thanks.” Even though I’m nowhere near fine, I want to play it cool. If this guy’s a biker, he’s probably seen some tough stuff. I don’t want to add to his burden.
It’s at the exact moment when I’m distracted with my savior that my attacker takes his chance, standing up and sneaking over to his car. I only notice as he climbs in the driver’s side. Slamming the door and revving up the engine, he thunders off in a billowing cloud of smoke.
My rescuer and I have both witnessed the spectacle. But I’m still in shock and feeling paralyzed.
He swings his head back to me. “Did you get a good look at him?”
“No,” I answer in a trembling voice. “He was masked the whole time.”
And that’s when the man removes his helmet.
A shock of chin-length blond hair falls softly across a face I know well. That face is perfect—beautiful yet rugged, with piercing dark blue eyes the exact color of the sapphire skies on my Chinese cup. Black, snake-like, sinuous tattoos curl upwards towards his neck.
He’s Landon Lockhart. The second-in-command of Blacktop Chaos, and the man chosen to be leader after my father’s reign is over.
The one man my father made me swear long ago to avoid.
The man who haunts my dreams relentlessly.
Suddenly my mouth feels dry. I feel an uncomfortable sense of tightening deep in my core like I’m wanting to draw this man into me. I can actually feel my muscles tense and contract with every long, hitching breath.
I’ve never felt this before.
And the way he looks at me…his eyes burn with some unknowable emotion. It almost seems like he wants to strip me bare.
Me—gawky plain Vivian Grayson.
It must be a mistake. There’s no way someone like Landon Lockhart could want me. I want to be an elementary school teacher, for god’s sake! I’m not exactly the kind of girl who would look at home on the back of a bike, wearing a shirt that says “I’m the bitch who fell off!”
A change passes visibly over his face. A sort of bland matter-of-factness.
“I got a tip someone was out to get you,” Landon says. “Luckily I got here just in time.”
Just in time, I thought. Yeah, right. I can’t help but shiver when I recall the feeling of the attacker’s hands clamping down on my shoulders.
“Um, I hate to say this, but it would have actually helped out if you had been here a little earlier. This was not my ideal night, having to be groped and dragged to a kidnapper’s car, you know.”
His hypnotic eyes glint daggers at me. “You should count yourself lucky I was here at all, Miss Grayson. Now get on the back of my bike. I’m taking you to hq.”
Though I could feel he was genuinely concerned, something annoyed me about that command. Where the hell does this guy get off thinking he can talk to me like that?
“No. I don’t think so. I have to get home. I have class tomorrow early.”
“You know, if I hadn’t been here, you probably wouldn’t be going to class ever again. Vivian.”
When he says my name, I feel a hard pulse deep inside. My breasts feel tingly and warm and my nipples stiffen. The sensation of my bra rubbing against my skin is enough to make me wet.
It’s not that I’m desperate. Not all guys have this effect on me. In fact, no other guy does. It’s not that I’m desperate. But Landon does something to me. Whenever he’s around, I can’t stop thinking about what it would feel like if his hands touched my body. I’m starved for his touch the same way I crave a good meal after a long day of classes.
I’m not a virgin—I had one sexual encounter with a man when I was twenty-one. To be honest, it wasn’t even that great. So it’s not like I’m not some lustful, wanton silly girl who makes eyes at everything with a dick.
But suddenly, out of nowhere, I imagine Land
on Lockhart grabbing me and bending me over the soft leather seat of his bike, lifting my skirt to my waist and forcing one of my legs to fold at the knee as he drives himself high and deep into me…
“Listen. You need to do what I say. I need to bring you to your father. Now get on.” Landon raises his eyebrows and smirks. I can see everything in that smirk, and I can tell that he means business.
I obey him silently, embarrassed by the images going through my head. I feel myself burning in shame and wondering if he knows what I’m thinking.
Tentatively, I lace my arms around his firm waist. He feels like a brick wall before me.
“Hold on tight,” he says.
When he roars up the engine, I want to scream. But in a flash, he kicks the starter and we’re cruising down the black, cold, wet trail of the street, the wheels crunching on slick asphalt. The freedom I suddenly feel is intoxicating—my soul grows wings. I’ve never known anything like it. It’s a sense of liberation I have ached for all my life.
And to think I might have found it on the back of a motorcycle, of all places.
For the rest of the trip to Blacktop Chaos’s headquarters, I’m pressed firmly against Landon Lockhart, feeling as if I could climax any minute from his mere presence and the delicious friction I feel against him.
Chapter 2
Landon
If the house is rockin’, don’t come knockin’.
The house is surely rocking off the hinges tonight. The whole place reeks of cheap whiskey and cigarettes and the heady, musky tang of sex. Death metal music rips through the speakers and raucous cries of laughter can be heard through the thin walls.
My house always makes the best party house.
A huge Fuck the World poster hangs above my bed. On top of my bare mattress, I hold Kristi, one of the local girls. She always hangs around Blacktop Chaos, hoping to score. Tonight, she’s gotten her wish.
“Landon,” she moans. “Please, baby, don’t tease me.”
I ignore her, letting my tongue slip between her moist pink folds, finding her clit hard and engorged. I flick my tongue against it teasingly, then lick soft circles around it.
She starts to whimper.
“Baby, please, I need to come. I need you inside me.”
“Not yet,” I breathe hotly into her sex. I don’t want to fuck her just yet. I want to play with her a while.
So I can pretend she’s someone else.
I don’t know why my mind has been doing this to me lately. It’s been like this for a few months now—whoever I’m in bed with becomes her.
Vivian Grayson.
My boss’s daughter. The one woman I can’t have, who’s completely off limits. The one woman in the world I swore I’d never touch.
Maybe it’s just plain old human nature. My mother always said we only want what we can’t have.
But fuck, do I seem to want Vivian.
I hold Kristi open for my own scrutiny and pleasure. I love examining a woman—how wet she gets, the way she contracts for me. Kristi does have a pretty pussy, despite the fact that I know she’s fucked at least half of the guys in the MC. Even though Kristi’s supposed to be a mama for the whole gang, the other members have seemed to defer to me and have left her alone lately. She’s basically my property now.
For the umpteenth time, as I stare into Kristi’s clenching vagina, I wonder what Vivian’s would look like. Would it be tight and wet and aching for my cock?
Kristi’s so wet for me the tops of her thighs are glossed with her own moisture.
“Oh, Landon, please,” she moans a second time. “Fuck it, baby. Stop looking at it and fuck it. Fuck my pussy hard.”
I’m horny as fuck. “Gladly,” I tell her. Harshly, I pull her towards me and turn her body to the side, lifting one of her legs in the air. Then I plunge my cock deep inside her.
I can feel a ripple of pleasure course through her body. Kristi cries out in appreciation as I plunge in and out of her, marking my territory.
When I close my eyes, Vivian’s face flashes in my mind.
I can’t stop the thoughts that come into my head, the pictures that play through my mind. I’m not making love to Kristi. I’m with Vivian, driving deep and hard into her body, making her scream and moan and convulse as I claim her.
“Grab my hair, Landon,” Kristi screams. I give her what she wants, but it’s really Vivian’s silky light brown hair I’m gripping in my hand, using it to steer as I navigate the tight, wet ocean of her body.
It just doesn’t make any fucking sense. I’ve never been attracted to sweet, innocent girls like Vivian Grayson. I like a woman like I like a bike—a little worn in. I want a woman who can party and fuck, who can ride, who knows how to please a man, who walks with confidence and a sexy sway to her hips.
Not a girl like Vivian. Shy and kind and…well, just plain good. The kind of girl who would stop on the side of the road when she sees a hurt animal. The kind of girl who pays for elderly folks’ meals at the diner before they can snatch their own check from the hand of the waitress. The kind of girl who would never be caught dead with someone like me.
Suddenly the door barges open. It’s Daub, with a topless redhead in one hand and a beer in the other.
Daub’s never been too bright. He got his nickname by once eating a whole batch of pot brownies. He got so high some of the gang members had to drag him into bed because he couldn’t even move. I can’t even remember what his real name is, but it doesn’t matter now.
“Sorry, Landon,” he says drunkenly. His face contorts until he’s looking seriously afraid that I’ll kick his ass. “Didn’t know you were in here.”
Even though it’s his birthday and the celebration is all for him, I’m still pissed. “Well, it’s my room,” I bark at him, still lodged deep inside Kristi. “Go figure.”
The girl on Daub’s arm giggles. He turns to her and yells, “Shut up, bitch!” Then he grabs her arm and stumbles away from the doorway, still clutching his beer.
That’s just how we bikers are. Women are basically just holes in our world.
At that moment, my cell phone rings.
“Hold on,” I tell Kristi, slipping from within her with a satisfying plopping sound.
“Nooo!” Kristi reached for me, her hands gripping me loosely around the waist. As gently as I can, I push her back down on the bed.
Sure, I was in the middle of some good fuckin’. But I can’t ignore this call. That would be dangerous.
It’s Blade.
“Landon, man. Check it out. I overheard at The Croc about someone planning an attack on Vivian.”
Suddenly I feel nauseous. My hands start to feel cold and numb and the world seems to spin around me.
“How the fuck did you find out about this?”
“The guy was drunk off his ass, man. Said there was a plan to kidnap her.”
“Jesus fucking Christ.”
“Hey, I’m at headquarters. Boss’s here. He wants to talk to you.”
“Put him on.”
I get a little tightness in my stomach when I know I’m about to speak to my boss. Steel Grayson is a powerful man, and one whom I both fear and respect. He’s also like a father to me.
And it doesn’t help that I’ve just been fucking someone and pretending she’s his daughter.
Steel took me in when I was fifteen years old and let one of the club’s old ladies care for me. Her name was Fiona. She was a sweet, beautiful woman who craved children of her own but couldn’t have them. She tried her best to be kind and gentle to me, but I was already created in the mold of pure evil.
My mom was a drunk and a meth head who was going to send me to a foster home. She’d been one of Blacktop Chaos’s mamas in the past. I think she might even have been Steel’s girl for a while. Maybe he actually cared about the dumb whore. But instead of me going off to foster care, he gave me a home and a new mom and pretty much treated me like one of his own.
“Landon,” Steel says in his deep, smoky voice, b
ringing me back to the present. He’s only spoken my name, but I know there’s a whole world of meaning there.
“Here, boss.”
“Listen. Some bad shit’s going down. I need you to protect Vivian. Protect her with your life. I want you to go to the Whitley Library on campus. She’s tutoring there tonight, and I’ll bet my ass the fuckers will strike there. Stop them, Landon, by all means necessary. Stop them and save her. Bring her back to hq when you’re done.”
I pause. I swore long ago to Steel that his daughter was off limits. This news has me floored, confused, and pissed.
He seems to read my mind.
