Biker in Black_A Motorcycle Club Romance

by April Lust

  Torch was not playing the game. “Fletch. If you’re looking for Owen, you’ll find him downstairs. I’d be happy to escort you there; just let me drop these ladies off here first. They’ve had a pretty rough day. Yeah?”

  Torch’s voice sounded all soft and sweet, but I knew it was a ruse. He hated Danny Fletch even more than I did, if that were possible.

  “Downstairs? This is fascinating. First this open bookcase, and this elevator, and now there’s a downstairs. You’ve managed to discover more in this house than I ever have, and I’ve known Owen for several years. Should I be jealous? You two have a new bromance going on, Parker?”

  “Ha. Right.” Torch’s voice tightened. “Listen, man, just move away from the entrance there so I can get these two settled on the couch, and then I’ll take you downstairs, show you around. It’s really amazing. Not to be missed. I’d be more than happy to lead you to your…what should we call him? Your business partner? Maybe you’d like him to show you around.”

  “No.” Fletch’s voice turned curt. “I think not. I have no need to know what’s downstairs. And something tells me Owen is likely not in the best position to ‘show me around,’ as you put it. But you three…I think I shall have to shift my plan a bit to accommodate. Well, it’s actually convenient to find you here, all together. It’s my lucky day. Again, who wants to go first? Or shall I make the executive decision?”

  “Why don’t we leave the ladies out of it, Fletch, and you and I can take this elsewhere.”

  Torch started moving us forward, seeming to call Fletch’s bluff about his seriousness with the gun. But Fletch was not having it. I watched him train the gun on my head, and we all pulled up short.

  Fletch laughed. “I thought that would get your attention, Parker.”

  “What’s your game here, Fletch?” Torch was buying time; even I knew that much. The idea was to get the bad guy talking, and try to maneuver into a better position to pull a fast one. Torch wasn’t no dummy. I loved my man.

  Whaaat? Did I just really think that out loud in my head? Was it true? Did I love him?

  Yeah, it felt right. It felt like I loved him.

  I almost started to cry. I loved him, and he was in the middle of saving me from hell, and now we were going to die. I looked up at his beautiful, angry, protective, wonderful face, and tried to memorize it, right there. Excellent timing, right? I impressed myself.

  Whoa, focus, Erin. I was all over the place.

  “My game.” Fletch was talking again. “You know, Parker, after we had our little talk last night, I realized I was about done playing number two to Owen. His…shall we call them predilections? His predilections have been cutting into my business costs, not to mention my energy. You follow any of that New Age wisdom that’s flying all over the place now? You gotta protect your energy field, man. It’s time I cleared mine of any energy vampires. The way I see it, Owen has become a major energy vampire, and I can’t take that shit anymore. Not to mention, with Slim out there, that’s a concern; he might talk. And now you, and this bitch of yours. You both just know too much.

  “It’s time I shut you all up for good, gather up my earnings, and enjoy life in another locale—one that doesn’t share extradition with our great nation. So, you see, you all being here today is like Kismet; I’d be stupid not to take advantage of this wonderful convenience. Say bye-bye to your sweetheart. It’s time for lights out.” With that, Fletch straightened himself, put both hands on his little handgun, and suddenly aimed it again at Torch’s head, his hands tightening around the gun.

  I shrieked. Torch roared and dropped his arms from me and the other girl; we weren’t really prepared for it, so both of us fell down and away from him pretty darn quick.

  The next thing I knew, the gun went off. It looked like Torch was linebacker-style tackling Danny Fletch into the library, and Fletch was kind of starfished to the floor.

  Both men grunted loudly, and Torch growled through his teeth, “Fuuuuck.”

  Oh my god, he was bleeding out the back of his shoulder; that bullet must have hit him. I’d never seen an exit wound before, but I identified it easily. His beautiful skin was blown—I had to train my eyes elsewhere or I’d have gotten sick all over the place.

  “No! Torch, oh my god, Torch!” That was about as cohesive as I could get at the moment.

  “Babe, you gotta get that gun.”

  Jeez, how did he do that? The answer was obvious: Torch was a huge guy in comparison with Fletch, so he probably had a good forty pounds on him, too. Even shot through the shoulder, Torch had straddled on top of Fletch and managed to get hold of Fletch’s wrists, pinning him to the floor. He had slammed the one hand holding the gun so Fletch lost control of his grip and the gun had gone flying into the library.

  Shirtless and bloody and in super-aggressive pose, Torch still radiated hot. I had just been watching the scene in some awe at the masculine show of dominance that was happening right in front of me. It was impressive.

  I was still flopped on the floor in the alcove and had to crawl past the men to get into the library to reach the gun. Aware I was only wearing a big T-shirt and nothing else, and not wanting to get anywhere near to Fletch in my weakened state, I hesitated.

  And even in his pain, Torch saw it and managed to smile at me, trying to give me a confidence boost. His look told me without words not to worry about getting past them, and that he had the situation under control.

  I made it past the two of them and retrieved the gun in the middle of the area rug. It was way heavier than I had imagined it would be, and I wanted to see what it would feel like to aim it. Since Fletch was an ideal target and already pinned to the floor, I figured this was a prime opportunity. I took it.

  Torch glanced up and caught me in the act. “Whoa, babe, I’m too close. Don’t aim it anywhere near me, all right?” I looked at his face; he had the strangest, cutest expression on his face. It was a mixture of a grimace—I imagined that was from the pain—and a tiny smile. I imagined that was for me.

  “Okay, Torch.” I lowered my arms immediately. They were happy with the reprieve. When had they gotten so weak? “Baby, don’t you need a doctor? Your shoulder—”

  “I’m fine, Erin. It hurts, but it’s not as bad as you think. Don’t worry about it, okay? Let’s focus on what needs doing here.”

  “Okay, babe. What do you want me to do?”

  He considered for a moment. “I think we need to impress upon Mr. Fletch here that not only is he not going anywhere today, but that he’s got some payback to do for what he’s taken from us, don’t you think? I think this particular vampire owes us some blood.”

  “I totally agree. You know that. But I don’t want you to go to jail, baby. Not today, okay? I don’t think I could handle that.”

  Torch laughed. “Don’t worry, babe. No jail. I promise. But I can’t not hit the bastard.”

  Realization hit me then. This was my opportunity, too, to finally get some payback for Thea. God, how had I forgotten Thea today? It was like my mind was still disconnected from everything around me, and it was only barely beginning to function again, just now.

  I whispered her name. “Thea.”

  Torch heard me, and looked at me softly. “Yeah, baby, Thea. Thea and Franco. What do you want to do?”

  My face crumpled some, and I could feel wet heat in my eyes and behind my nose. I looked down at my hands, clasped around that handgun, and I forced myself to my feet. My legs were still feeling rubbery, but they were strong, and I willed them to hobble closer to Torch, who was still straddling and pinning Fletch to the floor.

  I came to a halt standing over them and wasn’t sure what to do.

  “Torch, I can’t think. You go ahead first.”

  He looked at me inquiringly, as if checking to see if I was okay even just to stand. I nodded at him and backed up a few paces, into the library. The backs of my knees soon hit the leather sofa, so I sat.

  Torch went to town on Fletch’s face for…I have no i
dea how long. Not that long. But he took several shots, and there was some blood spray, and I turned my head away so I wouldn’t see anything after that. I was fairly certain that there would be at least a broken nose, maybe also a cheekbone or jaw, by the time Torch was finished. Fletch deserved every hit and then some, as far as I was concerned.

  Torch reined himself back, still straddled over Mr. I’m-Gonna-Kill-Everyone-And-Retire-To-Micronesia, and flexed his hand, looking down at his knuckles. They were bloody and must have hurt a lot, but his face held fierce satisfaction. Fletch was moaning and holding his hands up to his face, attempting to roll back and forth a little on the floor but unable to under Torch’s weight. He wasn’t going anywhere quick.

  “Your turn, baby. Whatcha wanna do?” Torch was looking at me.

  I had a little more faith in my legs this time, and I got up from the sofa with both hands wrapped around the gun. Fortunately for me, it was a small one and fit my grip easily.

  “I don’t want to kill him, Torch. But I want him to hurt.”

  “I hear you, babe. How ’bout you aim for his shoulder?”

  I looked at Torch’s bleeding wound—it was a tiny hole in the front, but it was bleeding, and I remembered the view from the back and winced at just the thought. “Tit for tat. That seems right.”

  Torch put his good arm around my legs and supported me while I framed the shot from point-blank range. Fletch just laid there, watching my face in horror, but knowing he wasn’t going to get out of this one.

  “Erin, keep your eyes open, babe. Keep your eyes on your target spot. Okay? Don’t close your eyes.”

  “Okay, Torch. I’m keeping them open.”

  And I pulled the trigger. And Fletch shrieked like a little girl.

  And Torch one-arm squeezed my legs in a proud hug. “You got him. Good job. You good now? Or do you wanna do another?”

  My eyes narrowed in thought. “That was too easy. And that was just for you. He hasn’t paid for Thea yet. He needs to pay for Thea.”

  Torch considered me for a moment, then backed up from his straddle and shifted so he was in a kneeling lockdown of Fletch’s lower legs. “Do what you gotta do, Erin.”

  Oh boy. My man totally got me.

  I shifted down-body of Fletch, following Torch’s move, and once again his arm supported my legs, giving me strength and balance. I aimed at Fletch’s groin. Fletch started really hollering and wiggling, just as I took the shot, and I missed my target, only getting him on the outer hip. It was really little more than a flesh wound. But his panic was satisfying, and I was done. I did not need another go.

  I tossed the gun back onto the rug in the middle of the room, away from all of us, so it would be out of play for whatever came next. Torch once again gave my legs a brief hug, and then he nodded. “Okay, onward. Let me get this guy tied down. You see anything we can use for that?”

  I pointed at the curtain ties, and Torch ripped them off the wall and made quick work of tying first Fletch’s ankles and then his wrists together behind his back.

  Then Torch went back into the alcove to retrieve the other girl and brought her to the sofa. She had passed out sometime during the altercation. I thought that was probably better for her, and we didn’t try to wake her.

  Right after that came the roar of a thousand bikes.

  Okay, that was an exaggeration. But it sounded like the entire MC had come to take down an army of darkness. Fraternal solidarity was beautiful.

  Torch went to meet them at the main door to the house while I kept watch of the sleeping girl and the hog-tied prince of porno and pricks. In moments, the MC Pres came barreling into the room, spotted his girl immediately, and was on his knees at the side of the sofa, pulling her into his arms.

  He might have been crying. Nobody watched, and nobody said anything.

  Most of the rest of the MC guys actually stayed out in the front of the house; only a few had come in yet. Torch made his way back to me quickly, making sure I was okay in the midst of this onslaught of big tough men. They were a bit much, no question, and I was grateful for his consideration. He still didn’t know the particulars of what the Sick Bastard had done to me, but Torch was taking no chances. He was not going to leave me alone, even among friends.

  Someone called the cops to come in to clean up the detritus of Fletch and Owen. Torch then spent a minute or two with a couple of the MC guys, describing how to get to Owen, so he could stay with me and not have to go back down when the cops got there.

  Torch pulled me aside. “Erin, baby. I remember you kind of freaked out before when you thought I was gonna call the cops into this. You okay with them coming now? What was that about, babe?”

  I almost laughed. Now that Fletch and Owen had been effectively shut down, my concern was as nothing. “Fletch had threatened me, that if I ever called the cops around him for anything, that he’d use his special blade on me. All over me. And he had whipped this ugly scary switchblade out of his pocket, and it was curvy and jagged and—”

  I couldn’t even get the words out; the memory of the threat still freaked me out, and now that I was describing it, it was like I was living it again. I gestured to the parts of my body that Fletch had run that blade over: my face, breasts, my stomach, my sex. I shuddered, and Torch didn’t need more words.

  He held me. “Shh, baby. It’s okay. He can’t get to you now. You know that, right? It’s over. It’s all done. You’re with me, you’re safe, and I’ve got you. No more worries, right, baby?”

  God, I loved this man.

  Another MC guy had brought along a couple pairs of sweats and stuff for me and Carly—Slim’s daughter, I finally learned—to throw on.

  She woke up soon after Pres’s arrival and was pretty groggy and freaked-out, but also really happy to see her dad again. She immediately burst into tears, but I was pretty sure they were of the relief variety.

  It took like what seemed like forever after the cops and ambulances arrived before we were allowed to leave the scene and go home to Torch’s place. The paramedics treated Torch and Carly first, then checked me out, too, before turning their attentions to the beaten men in custody.

  The cops had wanted full statements from me and Carly and Torch, which we did to the best of our abilities, but I was nearly passing out from exhaustion and nausea and what soon amounted to a migraine, so Torch promised we’d go into the station soon to give full reports, and he got me out of there as quick as he could.

  Once they all heard about my three up-close-and-personal experiences with the Taser, everybody was more than willing to give me leave; apparently, those things are known for packing a serious long-term punch. So, that was excellent news. I had yet more awesomeness from fucking Owen to look forward to.

  But I knew I had Torch, and Torch had my back. I loved him so much, and I was feeling more lucky and grateful than precious and mean about the whole thing.

  Everybody assured us Owen and Fletch were both going to be going away for a very, very long time, and that all of our actions were clearly in self-defense and called for (even though I knew that, strictly speaking, that wasn’t exactly the way it went down). I think the cops were so disgusted by my story and Carly’s, that they were happy to turn blind eyes to the little damage we had done to the two porno degenerates and murderers.

  Anyway, by the time we finally got back to Torch’s, I was beat. He was beat. We didn’t need any more words between us, anyway. He got us some water and gave me some headache and pain meds, took some himself; then we stripped out of our clothes and climbed into bed for skin-contact comfort, and we slept, wrapped up in each other’s arms.

  The next morning I woke up groggy and stiff and hungry and thirsty and generally uncomfortable. But when I opened my eyes and saw Torch’s beautiful face smiling so sweetly and happily at me, none of the rest of it mattered. It all fell away, and I said the only thing that did matter.

  “I love you, Torch. I’m way over my head in love with you.”

  His smile exp
anded till it took up his whole face and lit his eyes like beautiful green stars. “Erin, I love you, just as much and more, right back. And I am never letting you go.”

  And morning breath or not, we kissed. And it was the sweetest kiss ever.

  Epilogue

  Torch

  Our breaths meshed and our bodies began to heat up again. In short time, our mutual need for each other was ripping out of control, and we both had our hands and tongues and mouths and fingers and legs and arms and hips all over each other: gripping, pulling, pushing, rubbing, squeezing, molding, licking, sucking, biting, and thrusting. We were like animals, fierce creatures of need and want, until finally I rolled her onto her back, and she wrapped her arms and legs around me, and I nudged my cock to her soaking wet entrance.

  “Erin. Look at me.” Her face was dark and flushed with need and blood and desire; mine had to have been, too.