by Lexy Timms
"No, not a NARC. Not a wannabe.” He almost chuckled. “And I'm certainly not a banker, tho' an honest profession might’ve been a good thing.” Why the hell was he telling her this? He forced himself to stop thinking and play the game. “Most of the time I'm not a cowboy." His eyes locked on hers, like a cat that really wanted to eat a blue-eyed mouse.
She leaned back on the pole. "Oh, I know that. I could tell right away because of your patches. Under there,” she reached out and flipped her finger between the buttons on his shirt until her finger touched his bare chest, where she made a little circle, "I'll bet you even have a few great tattoos."
"Maybe." He didn't release her eyes, but continued to stare into them.
They heard Johnny Cash singing Another Broken Hearted Girl. The words seemed to float over to them. She began to sing the chorus, "Just another fallen star and a broken hearted girl."
His voice dropped low and he stretched out his hand to touch her, but she moved away from his reach. "Is that you, Classic? Are you a broken-hearted girl?"
"What's it to you, cowboy?" She stood up quickly and he noticed her tiny heart-shaped ass. He wanted to reach out and cup it in the palms of his hands, just to hold it as if it was a little heart-shaped treasure draped in ragged denim, and then he wanted to fuck it. Damn that denim hugs that little ass nice! Oh, would I love to stick my dick right… He wanted to reach out and touch the space where her two cheeks formed the appealing crack, but he didn't. He licked his lips. "If I promise not to break your heart, little girl, will you have a drink with me?"
She stared back into his green eyes and it almost hurt him to see the sparkle in her blue ones. They were like stars that you want to catch and keep for a rainy day, just like that little kids’ song. She whispered, "Maybe."
He pointed across the room. "There's an empty booth over there. We could sit and talk and get to know each other and I could stare into those beautiful starlit eyes of yours."
She glanced behind him and saw the booth. "Oops, missed your chance. Another love-struck couple just sat down in your booth." She smirked. "Gotta be quick, cowboy. Snooze you lose." She had perfectly straight white teeth, as if she was one of those movie shoot magazine cover girls. Her silky black hair was damp around her face. "You know what I wanna do, cowboy? I want to finish my wiggle dance on this pole at ten o'clock and then I want you to take me for a long midnight ride on your bike somewhere far from here. You know, maybe take me to the Twelfth of Never. Or not, but we could pretend. You do have a bike, don't you?"
He nodded. "I do, actually."
"Then it's a date. I finish about ten thirty. I'll meet you out back. Don't be late, cowboy." She blew him a kiss.
"Jace."
She turned away from him and swayed to the back of the room, towards a door that was almost hidden in the wall since it was painted the same color as the wall. She turned the knob on the door and then she rotated toward him, swishing her long black hair like a silken whip. She knew he would be watching. "Till later cowboy."
The little firm heart ass draped in the ragged denim shorts disappeared behind the door. Oh baby, damn right I'll take you to the Twelfth of Never and back again! He felt a heavy hand on his back. "Hey you." He turned, ready to throw a punch if necessary, but he recognized the weather-beaten face. "Quake! You almost got a nose job." He laughed and took the hand of his friend. "Where’re the others?"
"Wrangler and Earth are hangin' outside. The others aren't here yet. Once we meet up we can all ride to the hangout together." Quake's grey tendrils hanging on each side of his chin, wound into tight spirals, moved as he spoke. His thick biceps presented the Cerberus symbol. The three-headed dogs of hell seemed to want to jump right off his arm as he moved it. When his muscles tightened the three dogs looked as if they came alive.
They grabbed a chair at a small round table, pulling them close together so they could talk over the loud music now blaring from the jukebox.
Jace gazed down at the marred tabletop. He ran his finger in the water sweat circle coming off the beer mug. "Fork's gone." He looked up. "They shot him in the gut. He didn't have a chance."
"Damn! You’re jokin’!”
“I wish I was.”
Quake slapped the table. “We have to get movin' to find and kill the rat that shot him." He shifted, ready to stand.
Jace shook his head and looked up into the shaded eyes of Quake. He could see himself in the sunglasses' reflection, his brownish-red beard shaggy and tangled on his jaw. He was young, but too old for this shit. His eyes slid down Quake to the empty beer mug on the table. “No, you're not getting it all straight here, Quake. The bullet to his gut made him a candidate for vegetable soup. I made him dead."
Quake's hands reached across the small table and grabbed Jace's shoulders. He shook Jace’s shoulders roughly. "You did right, bro. You had no choice. No man wants to live the life of a damn carrot. You did right. Remember that." He slapped his friend's shoulders over and over as he spoke. "Now it's up to us to catch the fuckin' sniper that took Fork down." He pulled off his sunglasses and Jace could see the bloodshot eyes that were narrowed with rage. "We’ll feed that fuckin' murderer his fuckin' balls, that's what we are gonna do, bro. He’ll wish that he was never born." Almost as abruptly, Quake turned toward the bar. "We need to get a brew."
Jace nodded and slowly followed. It's going to take a blackout to ease my pain. Damn Fork, why th' hell did you go down that narrow rock trail toward their hideout? What the hell were you thinking? Why'd you go in there alone? Why were you there? The questions haunted him and took away the beer buzz he was working on. When the bartender handed him an ice-cold beer, he tipped it into his mouth and let it roll down his throat in one long guzzle. He watched Quake do the same.
A canned drumroll started after a few more beers. A white spotlight hit the brass pole. Jace, finally able to relax because of the ale, smiled at Quake. "That's my gal, Classic."
Quake repeated, "Classic?”
“Uh-uh.”
“You don't waste no time, bro." Quake chuckled and shook his head.
Both men turned toward the pole where Classic was gyrating her hips with her tiny little heart-shaped ass facing toward them. She spun it around; she dipped it. They couldn't see her face, but she wore sparkling silver hot pants and fishnet stockings with high spiked black heels. She had every man in the bar mesmerized by her actions that beat perfectly to the music. Both men reached down to push their cocks out of their salute positions at the same time.
Quake folded his arms over his chest. "Classic, huh? Damn fine ass! I wish the bitch would turn around so I could see her bazookas!"
Jace smiled at Quake’s tittie reference. He pressed his lips into a thin line as he reached out his hand and put it heavily on Quake's forearm. "She's mine, Quake." Jace looked up into Quake's face, which suddenly had all the wrinkles smoothed out in some crazy angelic pose of ecstasy.
Quake didn't take his black cold eyes off the gyrating little butt. "Uh huh. But bro, she's so damn hot. Bros should share, ya know?" He laughed warmly. "Oh man, pass the sugar, bro!"
"Not this time, Quake." Jace gave his friend's arm a gentle shove with his hand. They watched as Classic turned her body, bit by bit, and looked right into Jace's face and then she winked, right before she turned her back and bumped her body against the pole as if she was fucking it.
Quake moaned. "Hot hell! Geeze, gimmie some of that baby!" he hollered loudly.
Jace laughed. I’m the one who's gonna get to tap that. She turned toward them again and he saw something cross her face, not joy and not boredom. What he saw as plain as her pointed tits, was the look of anxiety abducting the light from her eyes. Classic was feeling genuine fear. Her body stiffened as she turned toward the bar's front door. Jace followed her gaze and saw a huge black shadow standing across the entrance.
Classic turned and began to bump her pussy against the pole again and quickly moved her butt in little circles. Her pace had changed and it seemed as if
she was feigning a genuine frenzied fuck. Yeah, that was it Jace realized. Now she isn't pretending anymore.
He kept his eyes on the man by the door as he moved across the bar. Jace could hear the guy’s boots clunking as they hit the floor, even over the sound of the music. The stranger went straight to a table near the stage where six men sat around laughing and throwing money at Classic. When they noticed the man, they stood and left the table quickly, leaving their beer mugs behind. The large doop sat down and his eyes trained on Classic. He sucked back each of the beers left on the table, one after another, downing all their contents in one long gulp before reaching for the next one.
Classic continued to stare at the arse as she persistently pumped her tiny hips back and forth and twirled around the pole. He didn't smile, but used the back of his hand and swiped the dripping beer off his salt and pepper burly thick beard. Classic shimmied down into a squatting position until she was within eye contact of him, down low by the table, and somehow out of her little painted red mouth came the words, "Welcome back, Bull."
Bull didn't speak, but he grabbed another beer mug on the table, which was almost completely full. He downed it and snapped it against the table. His black eyes focused on her silver sparkling tits, flashing in the strobe lights. His thick tongue licked his full lips, stretching out full length so he could lick the bottom of his moustache and any part of his beard that his long fat tongue could reach.
The music stopped. The strobe lights ceased to flash. The room filled with cheers and whistles in the dark. When the lights came up again, Classic was no longer on the stage. The show was over. Jace stood very still, waiting for Bull's next move. He saw the painting on the leather vest. It was a Chiron across the broad leather-clad shoulders. Bull was a member of the Chiron Knights.
Jace shook his head. This night was not going to end well. He shook his head and imagined Classic’s flexible legs opening for him. She would beg him to take her while on all fours.
Quake grabbed Jace's arm. "We can't rumble in here, Jace. This isn't the place. Besides, it's just me, you, and Mud. Plus two of us outside. Over half of the people in here are Knights, or haven't you noticed?"
Jace hadn't noticed. He’d forgotten about Mud, the shadow. He had been too deep-dick- thinking into Classic's ass to look around and decipher who was who in the room. He'd been careless. He glanced around with cautious interest. Quake was right. More than half the men in the bar wore Chiron Knights' patches. Most had the Chiron tattooed somewhere on their bodies. The shirtless ones had the Chiron on their shaved chests or across their backs. Fuck them!
He felt the bile rise into his throat. It was a Knight who had shot Fork in the belly. Jace felt his hand begin to shake, not from fear, but because it wanted to slide out the same knife that had slit the oxygen tube on Fork, and slice it across that thick neck of Bull, right then, before the ginormous ass knew what hit him! Jace's eye began to twitch as he imagined that big behemoth lying on the floor with his throat slit ear to ear. Maybe I'll even slice that Chiron right off your skin and hang it on my fuckin wall!
Jace felt Quake's fingers squeeze tighter into his flesh and he heard the feral growl in his friend's voice, "Not here, Jace. This isn't the place. They want you to jump. They wanna kill you bro."
Jace stood and moved away from Quake toward the bar and sat back down next to Mud. He whispered to him, "Mud, do you know this place is crawlin' with Chiron Knights?"
Mud grinned. "Looks like a fuckin' anthill of Knights to me." Mud took his thumb and pretended to kill an ant on the bar top. He rolled his thumb back and forth as if he was squishing an ant. "I'm not partial to ants, Jace." He laughed stoutly. "I suggest we get outta here and come back with some decent ant killers."
Jace nodded. He trusted Mud's judgment. Yeah, we'll come back with reinforcements and… He felt his hands tighten into fists. I just want to smash his fuckin’ teeth, that's all, just smash his face one time before I leave. Quake squeezed against his left and Mud squeezed him on his right. "Come on Jace, we have places to go, things to do." They pushed tighter into his sides. He let them lift him off the barstool.
The three men turned and began to stride out of the bar. Jace abruptly stopped. "You guys go on ahead. I’ll meet you at the clubhouse. I’ve something I need to attend to."
Quake shook his head but a smirk crossed his face nonetheless. "She's trouble, Jace. That tight little ass belongs to someone else. Someone you don't want to mess with right now. You saw it."
Jace laughed. "But she chose me, Quake. Losers weepers, right?” He slapped the big guy on the back. “Not to worry. I'll meet you there." After Fork, he needed something on the wild side tonight.
Chapter 2
He pushed passed the other patrons in the bar to the exit doors and went around the backside of the building. He knew she would be there waiting. Knew it in his gut. Her long black hair had been brushed out and hung to her waist. She wore a pair of skin-tight light blue jeans tucked inside long side zip boots. She had on a tight, very tight, pink lace see-through halter top. Jace was quick to note that those silky mounds peeking over the top were not confined into any bra.
She was gorgeous.
He stood watching her like a teenage boy.
She slid a light blue helmet, with white clouds painted across it, over her head. "Ready?" she asked softly.
"Did you wear that top just for me?" He pointed back and forth at her breasts.
Her lips curled into a coy seductive smile. "Who else would I want to see my hard nipples?"
He snatched at her hand and silently led her to the side of the building where he had parked his bike. He mounted and felt her slide on right behind him, slipping her body close to his, her snatch kissing his butt while her knees spread wide apart. Perfect, he thought, as he started it up and heard the engine purring. He scratched out, swaying the rear of the bike left and right, and then they were on Route 66 headed in the direction of Barstow. The road was windy and dark. No moon yet. Just blacktop lit by the bike's lights, a few stars, and shadowy rocks and mountains.
He felt her hands grip him more tightly as he leaned into a curve. The wings of her legs pushed against him as she held on more securely. He felt her nuzzle her head into the middle of his back, moving her cheek back and forth against him. She saddled her pussy closer to his butt. Oh man, this is too much! He could barely steer with his dick cramped up inside his pants screaming at him. He spotted a side dirt road and took a quick right, the bike zipped between the narrow rocks and whined up a hill before he squeezed it through another narrow rock passage.
He didn't know where in the hell he was, but didn't care. He felt her body hot against his back and he couldn't ride another mile, his dick was so hard and pushing against the zipper of his pants. I want her now! he thought as he turned off the engine.
The silence caressed the air around them. He got off the bike and then offered his hand to her so she could climb off. She reached up and slipped her helmet off. "And then there were two." She smiled and the sight of her face lighting up her eyes and the stars and black sky over her head was more than he could handle.
He reached out and grabbed her to him with a sense of urgency he had never felt before, more like an animal, a primal need. He ground his lips into hers, hard and brutally, pressing his mouth into hers, thrusting his tongue deep into her mouth, twirling around her tongue and then sucking on it until she pushed her hands against his chest in alarm. He eased up, but didn't release her lips, his hands reaching up and pulling on her lace top. He yanked it down until her breasts popped over the edge and almost as quickly his mouth encircled one of them, pulling and sucking on it as he watched her head tilt back, her silken black hair hanging loose down her back, touching the top of her jeans. Her pink-tipped tittie got hard in his mouth as he rolled his tongue over it again and again. He pulled on it with his teeth, pulling it long and hard, and then he let it go so that he could look down at its new stiff point. "Nice hard titties," he whispered.
/> He heard her moan as he bit the tip of her other rounded pointed nipple, nibbling and sucking until it began to turn red. He pulled the whole breast into his mouth, sucking and drawing on it hungrily.
Her eyes closed as she let the sensations wash over her. Her breasts were so hard, so full and she begged him not to stop. Groans of pleasure erupted from both of them. "More, oh do it again, Jace."
He slipped his free hand between her legs and began to rub over her tight jeans. He could feel her pants wet between her legs and her vagina began to involuntarily quiver open and closed, wanting him inside her.
He glanced at the ground, not knowing where to throw her down; rocks were everywhere. He released her for a moment and wriggled out of his jacket, faster than any Houdini trickster ever had. He threw the jacket on the ground, the Cerberus lay in expectation for her little butt to smash into their black angry dog faces. He propelled her onto the jacket with one huge lunge, lifting her up and dropping her to the ground. He ripped at the zipper on his pants. His swollen red cock popped out, the blue veins bulging almost a deep purple along the shaft. I need her. I need to feel her cunt wrap tightly around my dick. He felt his balls getting tighter and tighter. Oh damn! He whispered in her ear, "I want to be inside of you. Can I just…"
She shook her head from side to side. "Not yet."
There would be no easing the throbbing pain, not yet. It hit him, What do I really want? Peace? Release? Hell, I just want to shoot my wad into that warm delicious cunt. He didn't care, he wanted to feel her pussy squeezing him, pulling on him, caressing his cock in waves of pleasure.
He reached up and popped the snap on her jeans and yanked them down to her ankles. He stared down at her little black bush, neatly trimmed and waiting patiently for him. He reached down and placed his hand on her mound and squeezed. He watched her eyes close and her hips rose in anticipation. He put one hand on each of her knees and then pulled them apart, and for one brief second he looked up at her face, waiting for her to open her eyes.
