Xerox

by Esther E. Schmidt

  The ho gives a slight nod that Maci mirrors before she spins around, facing her brother. “How the hell did you do it this time, huh?” Maci sighs and takes his hand.

  Maximus’ ring finger is standing in an unnatural angle.

  Maci covers her hand with his. “Eyes on mine, Max. Right here.”

  She waits for his head to come up before she moves fast and pops the finger back in place.

  “Quill,” Maci growls. “He’s your responsibility. What the hell happened?”

  The solid mountain of a man hangs his fucking head. I need to hold back a chuckle over how Quill clearly respects my woman and feels like he did a shitty job.

  “We were messing around. I was showing him a move and he lost his grip on me and fell forward.” Hell, even Quill’s voice is filled with regret.

  “Okay then.” Maci smiles and smacks his shoulder. “Thanks. The last time it happened with his other finger, he fell off his bike. I’m thinking this one is way cooler. What do you think, Max?”

  Max has a huge grin on his face while he nods in agreement. Quill’s face brightens, clearly relieved by their reaction.

  Maci turns her attention to Max one more time and waves a finger in his face. “Pay more attention next time.”

  “Sure thing, sis.” Max grins while Maci stalks off in the direction of my room.

  “Damn, she’s hot.”

  I hear the words coming from my left as I turn to see the person who voiced those words. It’s the ho who’s got her eyes locked on my Old Lady’s bare legs. What the fuck?

  Chapter Six

  ***Maci***

  I find my way to Xerox’s room and grab a few things from my bag. I’m dying for a hot shower to relax my muscles and to shut everything out. I can’t believe how things bounce from one thing to the other and then flow together, moving at lightning speed.

  I’ve been struggling for years raising my brothers. First helping out my mother, because our father moved out the day Marcus was born. Trust me, he had valid reasons to do so. Then our mother died a little over nine years ago, and since then it’s always been me and my brothers.

  Do I regret putting my life on hold to give them everything? Not one freaking bit; they are my blood. And although we fight a lot, our bond is strong and solid. Except the last few weeks it felt like things were slipping. Then Xerox came into my life, and it seems I’m suddenly very aware I have a life to live for myself too.

  It’s not just realizing I can reach out for help from others and I don’t have to face things on my own…okay, it’s been more like he forced his way in, but whatever. What I meant to say is…my heart is soaring with the fact that my family got a little bigger with the guys of Wicked Throttle MC.

  The agent telling me about Nero’s stalker behavior? That they suspect his second in command is responsible for the bullets flying around at my house and trying to bring my brothers into the gang and so on? To be honest…it’s all starting to close in on me, taking its toll. The only time I feel safe is when I’m with Xerox. Then, strangely, it’s like I can face anything with him, knowing he will have my back.

  The hot water pours down my body while I place my hands on the tiles in front of me, bracing myself to enjoy the heat. My head is underneath the stream. It’s in these moments that I can let go for a very tiny fragment in time, letting my guard down. The water flows freely, over and from my body while sobs escape me.

  “Aw, fuck, gorgeous.” I hear Xerox’s voice fill the bathroom before I feel strong arms surround me from behind.

  My body freezes as adrenaline courses through my body from the shock of, what feels like getting caught. I never let people see me with my guard down and it feels like I’ve been caught doing something I shouldn’t.

  “I’m right here, I’ve got you.” His voice and touch are so tender that I practically melt against him.

  Xerox spins me around in his arms as he tenderly moves the hairs from my face. He peppers my skin with kisses. Stepping back, he removes his sweatpants. This action makes my eyes slide down, following the movement.

  Ho-ly-fuck. His dick is pierced. As in two bars going straight through creating an X. Sucking my bottom lip into my mouth, I bite down on it, imagining how those piercings will feel when he’s sliding in and out of me.

  “Eyes, Captain Cookie. Up here,” Xerox snaps.

  The demand in his voice makes a delightful shiver run straight up through my spine. I hear him curse a few times before I finally manage to drag my gaze away from his dick.

  “You’ve got…there’s a…Jesus…” I grumble.

  Xerox smirks. “It’s called a magic cross, or were your eyes on the Jacob’s ladder? You’ll be getting acquainted very soon, gorgeous. Very soon. But it won’t be today.”

  His words might as well be static to my ears, because the visual of his dick is taking over my brain. Damn. Long, thick, hard, and decorated for pleasure…wait…did he say won’t be today?

  “Stop looking like that,” he growls as he reaches for the shampoo bottle.

  Instead of using my stuff I brought with me, he simply uses his and starts to massage my head.

  “Lean back.” Xerox’s voice is soft while his fingers tighten and pull my head back underneath the water.

  He takes his time rinsing my hair and after that my body. Every single inch of me is vibrating from his touch. After he lingered around the sensitive areas, I felt like he placed live wires all over my skin. So here I am, naked, standing on a towel because I’ve been told not to move until he was done drying me off.

  Xerox returns with a gray hoodie, holding it up, the patch of Wicked Throttle on the back. Sliding my arms into the soft fabric, the size of the thing swallows me. Wrapping me in the masculine mixture of lime, rosewood, and a hint of cinnamon that kicks every single fiber in me into sensual overdrive, I raise my shoulders, turn my head, and dig my nose into my right shoulder to breathe it all in.

  When I open my eyes again, I see Xerox studying me. His pupils are dilated, almost black from the desire he’s visibly consumed with.

  It doesn’t make a lick of sense. “Why do you keep turning me down when we’re so freaking close to having sex? Not to mention you’re ready to fuck me this instant, it’s practically screaming from your eyes.”

  His face switches from desire to frustration as he drags a hand through his wet hair. “Because I want to savor you, goddamnit.”

  Stepping closer, he fists the hoodie and pulls me against him. Leaning in, his gaze locks with mine and it’s like an open window that’s inviting you to see and climb through. Opening up and letting me in.

  “I’ve never had this…these feelings. Just that, feel.” He swallows hard before his words continue. “You make everything around me come to life while my body is the centerpiece that’s been rebooted. There’s nothing more that I want or need right at this very second, then to sink my cock into the tight warmth of your delicious cunt. But fuck…the stuff going on around us is a weight on your shoulders I want to lift off your gorgeous body and take it on as my own. Before I fucking destroy it. Never think for one damn second that I’m turning you down, because that’s not what this is about. I’d fucking marry you on the spot if I had the ring and the priest in this very bathroom. But when it comes to you, I want the important thing to be the most rewarding gift that needs to be unwrapped slowly.”

  Never, in my whole existence, did anyone even think of putting me first. My mother, and yes, even my dad when I was young, showed me I was loved. But with five kids growing up and me being the oldest, things needed to be divided. And now I’m being placed first, above everything else. This hot as hell biker, president of a motorcycle club, is showing me how special I am.

  Placing me on a throne, to worship and treasure…damn…those eyes. He’s got all his desire locked behind bars and it’s threatening to break out. Screw savoring me. Oh, yes…I can totally see us having dirty sex on that throne, if he keeps looking at me like he wants to devour me.

  “I�
��m a girl who used to go ballistic with gifts, tearing off the wrapping paper as if my life depended on it. I get what you’re saying, and yet in the meantime…I want to have sex as if my life depended on it.”

  Yes. There, right there. His pupils go black, carnal passion overflowing. A growl rumbles through his chest, his lips are an inch away. My whole body feels heated in anticipation.

  His mouth covers mine at the exact same time someone knocks on the door. “Prez. Prez. You better get out here.”

  “Why the hell do we keep getting interrupted? I’m done. I was waiting for the right time, but seeing we’re on the same page and time is precious…next available moment I’m going to make you, or better yet, your pierced cunt, feel precious.” Xerox closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths.

  Sliding my tongue over his bottom lip, I let him know. “You already make me feel precious. Knowing how much, it fills up my heart yet it leaves my pussy empty. So, you better hurry up and fill that too.”

  The next instant, there’s a raw and intense growl. My back hits the wall and I can feel Xerox’s fingers gripping my ass to hold me up as he literally devours my mouth. My legs wrap around his waist as I grind myself against him.

  The loud knocking continues, the person on the other side is now barking out his words. “Prez. We need you. There’s been a hit on the gallery.”

  Those words make us both freeze. Xerox steps back and lets me slide down his body. Stalking over to the door, he opens it to Barlow who’s standing in the hallway.

  “I just got a call from an agent named Tracy Neeson. I don’t even fucking know how she got my number.” Barlow’s eyebrows go down and his words halt while he thinks things over.

  “I gave her yours, mine, and Corban’s. Yours might have been at the top of that list,” Xerox mentions matter-of-factly.

  “Makes sense…anyway…we need to get down to the gallery. Oh, and Prez…two favors.” Barlow stares at Xerox, who gives a tight nod, indicating him to continue.

  “First…at least put on some pants before you open the fucking door, man. You’ve got an Old Lady now, dick on show is for her, exclusively.” Barlow chuckles as he shakes his head.

  “What’s the second one?” Xerox snaps.

  Barlow’s face turns serious again. “No new pussy in the clubhouse. Us guys talked about it and we want to vote on it…”

  Oh. Seems me talking to the guys about my brothers being here and not wanting them exposed to…

  “First our VP, now our Prez…we don’t want our dicks tied. I’m not answering my own damn phone anymore either, or you make that woman lose my number next time you see her, because that voice, Agent Tracy’s? She could talk about whatever the fuck she wants, hell…sing the fucking alphabet and I’d come in my fucking pants. See? No new pussy. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again; my dick is made to rock and shock. Like hell some bitch is going to stroll into my life and put it on a leash.” Barlow takes a step back. “Clothes, man. I’ll inform Corban and…”

  “You, Corban, and Ryland are coming with us. Leave Marcus with Tyren, and have Nancy tag along with us. Michael is coming with us too.” Xerox doesn’t wait for an answer but instead closes the door.

  “We can’t bring Michael…” I throw over my shoulder as I grab my panties and slide them on.

  “We can, and we will. He’s under my care and he’s the oldest, Maci. You’re the big sister, but he has to step out from under you and show his brothers how to take the lead. While he gives me the chance, and experience up close; how I prove myself to you, and him to himself. We’ve got our guys surrounding them with every move they make. So…”

  Suddenly it clicks. Xerox didn’t just shove my brothers in the care of a biker, any biker for that matter, he handpicked them for a purpose. “You linked them up not just for the sake of my brothers, but also to knock some sense into the other guys.”

  His smile is bright as he buttons up his jeans. “Bingo.”

  When I’ve put on blue, ripped jeans, a gray halter cropped tank top, and my favorite black leather biker boots, I grab Xerox’s gray hoodie and slide it back on. Turning to face him, I see he’s wearing a black wife beater. He grabs a gun holster from the table in the corner, putting it on before he covers it with his leather cut.

  “Ready?” he quips while holding out his hand.

  My heart skips a beat when I lace my fingers with his. Seems like I’m not nervous or afraid anymore. Feels more like I can face anything, as long as he’s with me.

  Chapter Seven

  ***Xerox***

  It’s gone. All gone. Flames are bursting through the gallery like it’s been hungry for weeks. I can’t believe what I’m seeing right now. I slam on the brakes and jump out of the truck.

  Corban and Ryland’s chests both hit my shoulders as they catch me. I fucking need to get in there. I know it’s stupid, but that’s my first reaction. This gallery holds our main source of income. Some of my work is still in there and also most of…fuck.

  “Let go of me, you assholes, and grab Barlow. It’s only five or six fucking pieces of mine but all of Barlow’s work is in there,” I growl and turn just in time for me to tackle Barlow to the ground.

  The three of us wrestle until the crazy asshole is pinned underneath us.

  “Get him in my truck and get him the fuck back to the clubhouse. Then get back here with my truck,” I order Ryland and Corban.

  They grip his shoulders and drag him off. Corban takes the wheel while Ryland is struggling to get Barlow into the backseat. Michael, Nancy, and Maci are standing at a safe distance watching us. Maci’s eyes bounce from me to the flames and back.

  Stepping toward them, I make eye contact with Nancy. “Eyes on her at all times. I need to talk to some folks.”

  I inch closer and wrap my hand in Maci’s hair before I pull it back. “Stay with the prospect. I’ll be right back, yeah?”

  My mouth covers hers for way too briefly before I connect my lips one final time to the top of her forehead.

  “Mike,” I snap at Maci’s brother. “You’re with me.”

  He nods and falls in step behind me. Even though the boy has been with us for a very short time, he’s managed to clean up his act in rapid speed. Like he’s grabbed this chance with both hands. Or he finally found his place and purpose because I gave him a cut to wear and a bike to ride.

  The agent, Tracy Neeson, comes up and offers me her hand. “Sorry to see you again so soon under these circumstances.”

  I wave the small talk away with my hand, signaling to speed this shit up. “Just gimme the damn details. This fucking sight hurts my eyes. The gallery was filled with art. Mainly wood carvings by one of my guys, Barlow. Some pieces were going to be solid income for us for months. Not to mention I lost a few pieces, sketches, of my own. And let’s not forget the fucking gallery itself. We have a large exhibition coming up in a few weeks. This thing is screwing us up and slicing straight through our club.”

  She gives me a curt nod. “A witness saw two guys running off right after a small explosion. That’s what set the fire. I’ve got the witness already at the station with a sketch artist. But, Xerox…with what we discussed at the restaurant earlier today? I sense this is some kind of payback.”

  “No kidding, genius. Fuck.” I glance back at Maci, but come up empty.

  Turning around, I glance in every direction. What the hell? She was standing near the bikes of Corban, Ryland, Barlow, and Nancy.

  “What is it?” Mike questions from behind me, but curses right after his question. “Where the hell is my sister? Or Nancy for that matter?”

  My feet push the ground to pick up speed. Hearing footsteps behind me, I know Mike is following me, or fuck, maybe the agent too. I round the corner and come to a stop. My hand moves underneath my cut and with my next breath, I’ve got a solid aim. I’m about to squeeze the trigger when I hear a voice coming up next to me.

  “Freeze. Federal Agent. Step away or I’ll shoot.” Tracy is pointing her g
un in the same direction as me.

  I don’t fucking care about the fact that she’s an agent, or the fact that she’s an inch away from me. That’s not going to keep me from killing this guy in the next…

  A shot rings out as I see the fucker fall back, red soaking the front of his shirt while he stumbles backward and crumbles to the ground. The other figure who was in the alley had been slowly backing out of it, but he now takes off running and disappears around the corner.

  “Get a fucking ambulance here, right fucking now!” Mike barks from behind me. He shoves my shoulder. “Come on, dude, snap out of it.” He starts to run forward.

  Snap out of it? What the fuck? He’s the boy, I’m the fucking Prez. But right now that means shit as I stare down at Nancy. He’s got a tiny hole right between the eyes. Eyes that stare straight to the sky, locked on heaven until the end of time. Dead. No longer among us.

  Switching my gaze, I swallow hard. I’ve seen a lot because of my fucked up childhood and my years being Prez of Wicked Throttle MC, but this? My heart has been ripped out of my chest and shredded to pieces in front of my eyes.

  I can hear Tracy talking behind me, commanding people around me while I watch in horror as Mike falls to his knees in front of his sister. Her wrists are tied with rope to a drain pipe above her head. My gray hoodie, the one she was wearing, is laying on the ground. Her jeans are half way down her knees.

  “I can’t find a pulse, fuck. Dammit, sis, come on. You can’t leave me,” Mike begs, frantically putting his fingers on her neck.

  If she’s gone, there’s nothing left for me in this fucking world. In a split second I debate if I should kick the dead body on the ground to a fucking pulp to release some of the anger inside me, but I push it down and then shift Mike out of my way. I grab the pocketknife from my jeans pocket and free her wrists. She crumbles into my arms as I gently place her on the ground.

  I shrug off my cut and drape it over her lower body before my fingers slide to her neck. Closing my eyes, I try to focus. Come on…gimme a fucking pulse.