“What's up sugar tits? Was that good enough for ya or do you wanna go again?” he asked. I glared at his shamelessness but by the look on his face I could tell that he was actually serious. Could he really get hard again that quickly? I wasn't sure whether I should take that as I compliment or a sign that he slept around way too much.
“I'm fine, thank you. And no, one round was enough,” I struggled into my dress, mindful of the fact that Vince was watching my every move, “ You got what you wanted so you can go now.”
Vince laughed at my bluntness.
“OK, OK. So I got what I wanted. But judging by how hard you bit me when you came, you got what you wanted too? I always make sure the lady cums before I do, isn't that nice?” he said teasingly. It was a hell of a lot more considerate than most guys I'd been with, who didn't give a shit if I came or not. Vince didn't need any more compliments though. His self esteem was, if anything, a little too high. The regret of letting my arousal get the best of me was already starting to form. I felt really slutty and all I wanted now was to be alone.
“Whatever. Get out of my car please.”
Vince actually looked hurt at my harsh words. What could I say? I didn't like to beat around the bush. We'd had our fun and now it was time for me to go home and regret everything in a nice warm bath.
“Come on, why are you so mean?” he said, frowning at me, “Are you always like this?”
“Always. Now piss off.”
He did what I asked him to do. I couldn't say that I was not relieved.
Chapter Two
Vince
My friends always described me as a 'ladies man' or a 'player'. Actually, it wasn't just friends. This blonde girl who I fucked in the broom closet at my cousin's wedding called me a player when I didn't call her afterwards. I'd only taken her number to be polite and had no intention of calling her once I had gotten my rocks off. I thought that she knew that I never called girls after. It just wasn't my style.
“You're a player, Vince!” she sobbed from the other end of the phone. I had no idea how she had gotten my number, which was usually kept as something of a state secret, “Just a no good player!” She said it like it was a bad thing but I wasn't insulted. I was good with women. How could anyone take that as an insult? I was good at charming them, winning them over and getting them to bend over for me. I was good at leaving once I'd gotten what I wanted. So what if I wasn't the settling down type? Fucking a different girl every night was most guys' dream come true, but I was actually living it. I never made promises that I couldn't keep and I never screwed the same girl twice. That mostly kept things fun. Yeah, I got a few clingers once and a while like that blonde chick, but things were mostly cool.
I could honestly say that Lola was like no girl I had ever met or fucked in my entire life. Of course she was beautiful, but I was used to beauty. I'd had three ways with supermodels and fucked porn stars in my living room. That was nothing new. No, Lola had something different. She was spunky, and I liked it.
She also hit me with her car, which also made for a memorable introduction. I guess I knew right away that I wasn't going to forget her.
The thing that got me the most was how bitchy Lola was. She had to reel it in a little at first. After all, she had destroyed my bike and almost killed me in the process. Still, that didn't stop her for long. Even so, I could tell that she wanted me.
The sex was nothing short of mind blowing. Like I said, I'd been with a lot of girls and had some great times. Every single one had a slightly different fucking style to the last and liked different things. Lola was something else though. Something about that girl entranced me in a way that no one else ever had. We hadn't even done any crazy Kama Sutra shit. She kicked me out of her car afterwards and after putting up a little bit of a fight I went and watched her drive away. I kept watching until long after her car had disappeared from my line of sight, a strange feeling in my chest.
This girl was different. That was all I knew. I was actually kind of disappointed that she didn't want to stick around after I'd fucked her. It wasn't exactly hard to overstay your welcome with me, but Lola kept me wanting more. I shook my head.
“Get it together, Vince,” I muttered. Maybe I did have a concussion after all.
Lola
The only good thing about working at the fashion magazine was that I had weekends off. Usually I spent my Saturdays sleeping in and hanging around in my pajamas all day. If there was a party going on that my friends wanted to go to I would usually tag along. The unfortunate exception was when I was forced to go to a local fashion show or boutique opening to report on it for the magazine. I had always adored the artistry that came with fashion design, but the industry itself wasn't the creative haven I had been expecting.
This Saturday, however, I wasn't lucky enough to spend the day in bed or unfortunate enough to be assigned a fashion show or a boutique. Instead, I had to bring my car in for a service. After the incident that I was trying my hardest to forget I was worried that my car might be more damaged than it looked. After sleeping with Vince like that I was also worried about the state of my head, but I didn't mention that to the mechanic.
“You're gonna want to remove any personal items before you leave,” said the mechanic. Even in my casual weekend outfit of a fluffy sweater and tight jeans, I could see him checking out my body. God, men were so basic. Why on earth did I ever waste my time with them?
“I have everything,” I said. 'Everything' included thirteen hair ties, my spare work shoes, a pair of fluffy dice, four empty coffee cups and a lipstick with too much fluff on it to ever be used again. I'd given the car a once over before bringing it in to avoid any potential embarrassment.
The mechanic raised his eyebrows at me and opened the car door. He slipped his hand under the passenger seat and pulled out an expensive looking brown leather belt.
I instantly recognized who it belonged to and felt my face becoming inflamed, but I did my best to stay cool.
“Oh, that's my boyfriend's belt,” I said. It didn't sound good, but it sounded marginally better than 'that's the dude I ran over and then had sex with's belt'. The mechanic gave me a smile, obviously jumping to annoying conclusions as to how it got there.
“You guys got a little distracted on a drive, right?” he said. The most annoying thing about this conclusion was that it was one hundred percent correct. I cursed myself for not checking the car more thoroughly before I brought it in.
“He probably just needed to change belts,” I said, taking it from him and shoving it into my purse, “Thanks for finding it though. I'm sure he'll be happy.”
The mechanic looked me up and down again.
“I don't know how I couldn't be happy with a gal like you,” he grinned, “Looks expensive, he must be doing OK.”
I decided not to engage in the conversation anymore and told the mechanic that I had to go. I did really, I'd agreed to meet my friends Allison and Janey at the mall for a coffee and some window shopping. I may have exaggerated how urgently I had to get there, but I needed to get away. The mechanic was grating on my last nerve. There was something about men in that profession that just seemed to rub me up the wrong way lately. At least he hadn't literally rubbed me up the wrong way like Vince had. Though, being honest, it felt nothing but right in the moment.
I hurried away and walked the ten blocks or so that I needed to pace through to get to the mall. It wasn't technically a mall, it was actually a 'deluxe shopping complex'. Translation: A bunch of high end stores and fancy cafes with eight dollar coffee grouped together in one big fancy building. Less teenagers making out by the fountain and more classical music and perfume piped through the vents. It was the kind of place that up until recently, I wouldn't have set foot in with a resume, forget to actually shop. Now I had some money things were different. I got manicures and waxing and my hair was cut every few weeks and most of my outfits cost more than my entire college wardrobe. Things were good.
The giant clock above th
e fountain stated that I was early. Too early, Allison and Janey wouldn't be here for another hour and thirty minutes. I had time to burn and no idea what to do with it. Normally, I would have wandered around the stores and picked up a few little treats for myself, which I was perfectly entitled to do, but the beauty and clothing stores intimidated me. The sales assistants were all beautiful girls with perfectly painted faces and outfits that flattered every contour of their willowy bodies. I had no doubt that they would look at me in my casual jeans and tight sweater, combined with a bare face and sneer. I wasn't in the mood for that kind of treatment.
I walked past those stores and came across an odd little store that didn't quite seem to fit in with the tone of the place. It sold various car and motorcycle accessories. That kind of stuff had never really caught my interest, but the place looked more welcoming than the other stores and the only sales assistant was a nerdy looking guy about my age, who didn't even look up when I stepped in. No judgment here. This might be a good place to waste some time. Maybe I could even treat myself to something nice for the car.
I began to realize why the store was in the mall when I started looking at the items for sale and their hefty prices. They were selling very similar furry dice to my pair, but these were made of actual mink and scented with lavender. For their price I could have bought thirty of my shabby little dice. I gazed aimlessly at the ridiculous items, wondering what it must be like to spend money so freely on such stupid things.
A pair of girls wandered in, gossiping together as they passed me by. They were both about my age, one blonde and one redhead, both svelte and pretty and dressed in the kind of outfits that you could only buy in a fancy mall like this. They headed straight for the bike accessories without even glancing at the mink dice.
“I don't think they have it, Sophie,” said the redhead gently. The blonde shook her head and rifled through the assorted items, tossing them aside when she didn't see what she wanted.
“Don't be stupid, they have to. I read on the website that they're releasing to stores nationwide today,” she said, “God this place is such a shithole!”
“Excuse me miss!” stuttered the cashier nervously. For a moment I thought he was talking to me but it soon became obvious it was aimed towards the blonde, “You're messing up the display.”
She rolled her eyes, but stopped rooting around and looked at him.
“It's not a very good display if I can't find what I'm looking for, is it?” she picked up a leather pouch , obviously meant to be clipped on to the biker's belt to keep money and other such things as they rode. It looked good enough to me but this Sophie girl didn't seem to think so, “I mean really, this is the kind of shit you think people want to see? I bet I could find the exact same quality shit at Wall-Mart.”
The redhead giggled. “Ew, Sophie!”
The cashier sighed and shot me a depressed look before moving from behind the counter and walking over to the girls. I wondered if he might kick them out but I quickly figured that he wouldn't. These were the kind of girls who fit in at malls like this. The kind of girls that sales assistants were meant to bend over backwards for. It hadn't been long ago that I had been working a shitty retail job so I pitied the guy a little.
“Ladies, is there something in particular you're looking for?” he asked, doing his best to keep the exasperation from his voice but not quite managing it.
The two girls looked at each other and giggled again. They had to be at least twenty-four but they were acting like a pair of fourteen-year-olds.
“She's looking for something,” said the redhead, nudging her friend. This only made Sophie giggle more. I could tell that the sales assistant was dying inside and I couldn't blame him.
“Shush Erica! Don't embarrass me!”
“What might you be looking for?” asked the assistant. He had the patient of a saint. Either that or he was paid on commission. I tried my best not to make it obvious that I was eavesdropping by pretending to examine the mink dice once again, but the girls were oblivious to me.
“Do you have any Vinny's Bikes stuff? It said on the website that their new range is nationwide from today. I wanted to pick up a few things,” said Sophie, trying to abstain from giggling for a second. The name was like a bucket of ice cold water thrown over my body. Vinny's Bikes wasn't Vince's place, wasn't it? I tried to convince myself that I had heard wrong but there was no way. “We did get a shipment in this morning but I haven't had time to put out the products yet. It's mostly finger less gloves and helmets and stuff like that, nothing special. Though based on the prices you'd think they were made of gold,” the guy smiled at the two of them, “I can find you some very similar items for a fraction of the price.”
“No!” exclaimed Sophie, “No fucking way! God, do you speak English? It has to be Vinny's Bikes. I don't want any of this other shit.”
Erica, the redhead, looked embarrassed at her friend's hysteria. She gave the alarmed cashier an apologetic look.
“It's really important to Sophie to invest in quality goods. She's really into this bike stuff and she has her heart set on Vinny's Bikes,” she said gently. Her face suddenly became more stern, “I'm sure we won't have to talk to your manager about this if you just go in the back and find us the goods.” The assistant nodded eagerly, obviously taking the hint. The way they talked to him made me so angry, but I knew that I would be an idiot to interrupt.
“Sure, sure of course. I'm so sorry ladies, I didn't know. I'll get those boxes out here for you right away,” he said, before disappearing into the back room.
As soon as he was gone the two girls exchanged glances and burst into peels of cruel laughter. “Oh my god, did you see that!” exclaimed the redhead, “What a loser!”
The blonde put a stupid expression on her face in a ridiculous imitation of the guy.
“I'll get those boxes right away! Pathetic. Ugh,” I must have been glaring at her because suddenly she caught my eye and scowled, “What are you looking at?”
Shit. My face was too damn expressive.
“Oh me? Nothing,” I said, putting the dice back into place. I wasn't done yet though. I moved towards them and I could see them tensing up as if we were going to throw down, “You just seem to be really into motorcycles. I was thinking of getting one and I could use some advice.”
Lies, lies, lies. The last thing that I ever wanted was one of those stupid death machines, especially now that I associated them with Vince.
The two girls dropped their aggressive stance and looked at each other again, before bursting into yet another fit of giggles. God, they did that a lot. I barely knew them and yet I already hated them. Even so, I made sure to laugh alone politely.
“Sophie's not into motorcycles,” laughed Erica, nudging her friend, “Sophie's into guys on motorcycles.”
“Really?” I asked, looking at her.
“Yeah, my boyfriend has lots of them,” she said proudly, “In fact, my boyfriend owns Vinny's Bikes. You know Vinny? That's him.”
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. She couldn't be serious, could she? Of course she could. Vince seemed like the type to be into bimbos. I was just a convenient little side piece for him to play with before he went home to his girlfriend. How could I have been such an idiot? One night stands were one thing but sleeping with another woman's boyfriend was not my thing. I suddenly felt dirty and disgusting. This girl would be so upset if she knew what her boyfriend and I had done.
I played it as cool as I could though I felt like I was going to pass out.
“Oh wow, that's great. Really nice to meet you girls, I'll see you around,” I babbled and ran right out of the store. I really was an idiot.
Vince
Sophie. That was her name.
I wouldn't have remembered myself, but my best friend Brett, who co-owned the bike business with me did. He remembered her all right.
All I remembered was her tight skirt and the fact that she wasn't wearing any underwear. We'd met at the club, danced a little and
had sloppy sex in the bathroom. I was drunk and she was sober but getting her to suck my dick took virtually no convincing. Fuck I probably didn't even kiss her. She had a pretty face and a nice body but shit, her laugh hurt my head worse than getting run over would later that week. Her blow jobs were also very toothy, and not in a good way. Sophie was the kind of girl who was perfect for a quick fuck and then no contact ever. At least, that was what I had thought.
Of course when you slept around like I did you would come across a clinger every once and a while. I hadn't had one since my cousin's wedding, and she'd backed off after a while. Sophie took this shit to a whole new level.
It started with texts and voice mails and friend requests. Irritating, but innocuous enough for me not to be too concerned. I used my usual tactic of ignore, ignore, ignore, figuring that she would get the hint and move her affections to some other poor sap who got drawn in by her looks and couldn't see the crazy behind it all.
Then it got worse. Sophie started calling my friends. I came into work and Brett was grinning up at me from the bike he was painting.
“What you looking at, asshole?” I said, figuring it was part of our usual banter. It wasn't. “That Sophie chick called me, asking if you were around.”
She called a lot of people, it turned out. I had no idea how she had managed to get all the different contact details. My friends were solid guys and all of them told her where to get off, but she didn't give up. I didn't blame them for cracking under that kind of pressure. One of them eventually gave her my address.
Old School: A Bad Boy Biker Romance Page 3
