by Chiah Wilder
The times she’d come into the great room to see one of the club whores—usually Wendy or Rosie—wrapped around Jerry, his face stuffed in her tits, ignited a burning in the pit of her stomach. Then she’d go home, cry, and start comparing herself to the women who held his attention. She’d always come to the same conclusion—he liked women who had big breasts, hardly wore any clothes, would screw him on command, and worked their mouths, hands, and hips like a pro, and she was so out of his league. But even when he was lip-locked with a woman, he’d stare at her as she padded through the great room, and within five minutes, he’d stroll into the kitchen, flashing her a big smile, and their flirtation would begin anew.
She’d lost count of how many times her dad had told her that Jerry was nothing but a man-whore, and he didn’t like the way he looked at her one bit. A funny feeling twisted her insides when Banger would tell her about how Jerry was crushing on her. One afternoon, when she was eighteen and a senior in high school, her dad had caught her flirting with Jerry, her crossed leg touching his. He’d gone ballistic, throwing the biker against the wall before lashing out at her. When he’d lifted himself off the floor, Jerry had zipped out of the kitchen. For the next week she’d been grounded, and Jerry had been made off-limits for her natural life, but it didn’t stop her fantasies over the sexy biker.
Kylie shuddered, thinking about what her father would do to Jerry and her if he could see the way she’d shamelessly enjoyed his kiss the previous night. She knew her dad trusted her, and she didn’t want to betray him, but the way Jerry kissed and held her made her want more.
“Hey,” a male voice said behind her.
Withdrawing from her musings, Kylie pivoted to see who the bearer of the penetrating voice was. A man of medium height and dark brown hair and eyes came into view. She glanced at him, trying to determine if she knew him, but her mind was a blank.
“We met last night. At the spring festival.” He plopped into the empty seat across from her.
She frowned. “I don’t remember.” Then she turned away, dismissing him.
“Sure you do. You were eating a burger, and I came by and told you how pretty you looked. I’ve seen you around campus. You’re in my political science class.” He smiled, and she noticed his bottom teeth were crooked.
Poking her tongue lightly into her cheek, she inhaled a long breath. “Sorry, I don’t remember. I had too much to drink.”
He snorted. “Yeah, seemed like it. How do you like Dr. Reagan’s class?”
“It’s okay. I’m not that interested in the subject, but I wanted to get the requirement out of the way. What about you?”
“I spend most of the class staring at you, so I’m not sure what the fuck is going on.”
She squirmed in her chair. The guy looked older than a sophomore, and he was definitely giving out creep-vibes. She didn’t want to chat or get to know him. She scooted her chair back, trying to create some distance. “Nice talking to you, but I gotta do some homework. See you around.”
The man extended his hand. “I’m Marcus. I’ll see you in class tomorrow.”
Ignoring the offer, she rubbed her neck. “I’m Kylie,” she muttered.
He stared at her. “I know.”
“Gotta go.” She whipped around and strode out of the snack bar, quickly crossing the grassy area to the West Hall dorms.
When she walked into her room, she saw her roommate sitting up on the edge of the bed, elbows braced on her knees, head in her hands. “That was me this morning,” Kylie said as she shrugged off her black cardigan.
“I got so fucking wasted last night,” Taylor moaned, motioning to the water bottle on her desk. “Can you bring it to me?”
Kylie handed her the bottle then sat on the bed opposite her friend. “It was fun, though.”
“I had a fucking blast.” She took a big gulp of water, groaning when she tipped her head back. “Do you have any aspirin?”
“Yeah. Wait a sec.” Kylie padded to the bathroom, spilled out two tablets from the aspirin bottle, and placed them in Taylor’s hand.
“Thanks.” She swallowed them with another gulp of water. “So, who the hell was that hot guy you were attached to all night? He was so damn good-looking. Is he a senior?”
Laughing, Kylie said, “He doesn’t go here. He’s a friend from back home.”
“Where have you kept a hunk like that hidden during the times I went to Pinewood Springs with you?”
“He’s actually a member of my dad’s motorcycle club. I’ve known him since I was like, twelve. We chat and stuff when I’m at home.”
“What does ‘and stuff’ mean? Have you guys had sex? I’ll be super pissed at you if you have and didn’t tell me about him.”
Kylie waved her hand. “No. No way. I could never do that. My dad would fucking kill him then send me to a convent for the rest of my life.”
“Seriously? Damn, the story gets better all the time. Why does your dad care if he’s a biker? I mean, your dad’s one too, so what’s the big deal?”
Kylie shrugged. “I don’t know, but my dad doesn’t want me to hook up with a biker, especially Jerry. He thinks he’d do me wrong because he’s always chasing women.”
“Isn’t that pretty much the norm with most bikers? I mean, the stories you’ve told me make me wonder why your dad cares about this one.”
“My dad’s just looking out for me.” Kylie reached over and grabbed her water from the nightstand. “He’s overly protective. I’m his only daughter.”
“Maybe your dad’s crazed about this one because this Jared has the hots for you.”
“It’s Jerry, and he doesn’t have the hots for me. It’s just a dad thing. Who did you hook up with last night?”
“Nice try at changing the subject. I didn’t hook up with anyone. So, why was Jerry at the university?”
“He was visiting some friends and came by to say hi. My dad probably told him to check up on me.”
“It didn’t look like that to me. The way he was holding and squeezing you told a different story. Anyway, I’m sure your dad would’ve been pissed if he saw the two of you attached at the hip.” She rose from the bed. “Damn, my head is pounding. Why the fuck did I drink so much? I’ve got a paper about civilization versus the wilderness in The Scarlet Letter for Dempsey’s class on Tuesday, and I haven’t even begun to research it. Shit.”
“I took her class last semester. I got an ‘A’ on my paper on the same topic. Do you want to check out my resource list? It’ll cut your research in half.”
A wide smile broke over Taylor’s face. “Definitely. I’m going over to the library to start the damn thing. You wanna come?”
“No, I’ll study here. I got all my heavy-duty stuff out of the way yesterday.”
“You going to tell your dad you bumped into Jerry?”
“Hell, no. You think I’m a glutton for punishment? My dad would’ve been pissed if he’d seen the way I was acting. It’s better to just file last night away as a blissful memory. It’ll never happen again.”
Before closing the bathroom door, Taylor shook her head. “The way you two were carrying on, I wouldn’t bank on it.”
The door shut and Kylie stared blankly at it, the rush of water filling her ears. She touched her lips, remembering the way they felt with Jerry’s mouth on them. A shiver ran up her spine as her stomach clenched. She had to forget about last night. And Jerry. She couldn’t disappoint her dad.
Jerry was just a handsome, funny guy she talked to whenever she went to the clubhouse. Nothing more.
Yeah, right. Try and convince yourself of that.
She was on a tightrope, and one misstep meant disaster. She had to be good. Her dad depended on it, and Jerry’s life did too.
Chapter Three
Jerry reread Kylie’s texts, honing in on the smiley face she sent him. She was so fucking adorable. Who the hell sent smiley faces? He didn’t know any chick who’d ever sent him one. He motioned for Blade to give him another beer, even thoug
h he knew if he didn’t stop, he’d have to crash at the club. Jerry had a three-bedroom apartment near downtown Pinewood Springs, wanting the extra space because he was always puttering around with his tools and supplies, making front and back fender ornaments for motorcycles. He’d sold several to Hawk for his bike shop, and had just received an order for six dozen assorted ornaments for a motorcycle vendor in neighboring Silverplume. His hobby was becoming a business, and he was happy to have the space to accommodate it.
Blade plunked down the beer on the counter in front of Jerry. Curling his fingers around the cold bottle, Jerry gulped it down then gestured for another. The softness of Kylie’s mouth on his invaded his thoughts. He never should’ve gone to see her. And he certainly shouldn’t have tasted her sweet lips. Before the previous night, he’d only imagined what it would feel like to kiss and hold her. Now he knew, and he was fucking hooked.
I should just walk away. Cherish the memory then lose it in Rosie’s tits and Wendy’s pussy. There’d be plenty of hoodrats to help him forget how fantastic it felt to hold Kylie and breathe in her lavender-powdery scent. He had to let it go… but how in the fuck could he? He needed to touch and kiss her one more time, and then he’d be done. What a fuckin’ mess you’ve gotten yourself into. You shoulda left her alone. You knew she was off-limits. Damnit!
He didn’t believe for one minute that Kylie didn’t remember their kiss. She was probably reeling from the memory of it the same as he was. She knew the score, knew her dad was a no-nonsense type of guy. Jerry’s unbridled passion for her made him seek her out at school, just so he could see her, hear her voice, be with her. Now, he’d put them both in the danger zone. He’d just have to make himself forget her and move on.
“Fuckin’ good shot.” Banger’s baritone voice punched him in the gut. Turning his head toward the pool tables, he saw Banger and Bear smoking weed, downing shots of Jack, and playing a game of pool. A large stack of bills sat on a nearby table.
“You ready to pay up?” Bear joked as he inhaled his roach.
“Not a chance.” Banger chuckled.
Jerry watched his president’s every move. Guilt assaulted him before tension grabbed at his insides. Banger would beat the shit out of him for touching his little girl, maybe even kill him. He was positive that if Banger ever learned about his antics, he’d lose his patch. Jerry had worked damn hard to become a patched member of the Insurgents MC, and he’d be a goddamned fool to throw it away on a pretty face and some wicked curves. But then there was the lavender scent, and the way her hair felt in his hands, the softness of her skin, her silly laugh, and her incredible lips with the flavor of watermelon on them. Fuck!
“Hey, what’s up? Missed you at the party last night,” Throttle said as he slid onto the barstool next to Jerry.
“I had shit to do.” He gulped down the new bottle of beer the prospect placed in front of him.
“Like what?” Throttle threw back a shot of tequila, then squirted a wedge of lime in his mouth, his lips puckering.
“Just shit. I gotta fill that order I got for the fender ornaments.”
“Oh, yeah. Man, this must’ve been the first party you missed since you’ve been patched.”
“Really? Why the fuck are you keeping count?”
Throttle shot him a quizzical look. “What the fuck’s your problem? Just making conversation.”
Steady, man. Why are you ready to rip Throttle’s head off just for making small talk? “I’m just tired. I didn’t get much sleep last night.” He put his lips against the bottle, wishing Throttle would either get the fuck away from him or shut the hell up and drink in silence.
“I gotta get one of your ornaments. I saw the ones Hawk bought for his shop when I was helping out last week, and they’re wicked. How much you selling them for?”
Jerry gritted his teeth. “Depends on the style, but they go from fifteen bucks to two hundred fifty big ones.”
“Do you think you can bring some?”
Clenching his jaw, he swiveled on the stool and faced Throttle. “Why the fuck don’t you go to Hawk’s goddamned store and check them out?”
Throttled narrowed his eyes. “I fuckin’ told you I did, but I wanted to see what else you had. Fuckin’ change your attitude before I beat your ass.”
Jerry leapt off the barstool, quickly followed by Throttle. Both men stood rigid, staring at one another, nostrils flaring, chests rising up and down.
“What’s going on here?” Rosie asked as she came up beside Jerry.
Lola followed suit, only she stood next to Throttle. “You guys look like you’re out for blood.”
“Stay the fuck outta this,” Jerry growled at the women.
Rosie curled her hand around his arm. “I missed you last night, honey.”
“Get the fuck away,” he hissed, shaking her hand off him.
Her face fell as she stepped backward. “Why you mad at me? I didn’t do anything.”
“I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at—” He stopped short. He was fucking mad at himself. Throwing his beer bottle across the bar, he walked to the front door. Before he stepped out into the sunshine, he heard Throttle say, “I just fuckin’ asked him if I could see his damn fender ornaments. All he had to say was no.”
He jumped on his Harley and fired up his engine, ignoring Chas as he pulled into the parking lot, and rode away from the club.
Chapter Four
The first few days of the week were a blur of studies and parties. Final exams were fast approaching, and Kylie threw herself wholeheartedly into her studies. She hadn’t heard from Jerry since they’d texted the previous Sunday. At the beginning of the week, each time her phone would make a noise, she’d jump, hoping it would be him. But there was nothing from him; it was as if that night hadn’t happened. She imagined he’d screwed a few club women by now, and the thought of him kissing another woman the way he’d kissed her made her insides ache. She was being silly; it was just a kiss. It wasn’t like he was her boyfriend or anything, but Kylie had hoped—in a romantic, unrealistic way—that Jerry would’ve been so blown away by kissing her that he wouldn’t want any other women. But it was better this way because she didn’t have to worry about her dad and all the drama associated with that.
Kylie sat on her favorite comfy chair, highlighting passages in her economics book when someone knocked on her door. Thinking it was Ricky coming to work on their psychology project, she yelled, “It’s open!”
Expecting to see her friend come in, she smiled widely then frowned when Marcus entered her room, his small eyes staring at her. She gripped the side of the chair, swallowing her gasp. “I thought it was someone else,” she said as she tried to keep her voice steady while her insides quaked. “What do you want?”
“To see you.” He took a few steps closer to her.
She stood up. “You here to talk about poli-sci? Did you know what was going on today? I swear, half the time, I’m so bored that I zone out.” She kept talking, hoping it would stop him from coming any farther into her room. What is he doing here?
As she babbled on about their class, he stood still, his eyes on her mouth. Why is he just standing there staring at me? Ew…. She wanted to push him out, then take a shower so she could scrub his gaze off her.
Marcus licked his lips. “I’m not here to talk about class. I want to know why you act like you don’t know me while we’re there.”
Shit! “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You never sit next to me, and afterward you run out, like you’re avoiding me.”
“Do I do that?” She crossed her arms. “I don’t think I do. I have another class right after and it’s in another building, so I have to rush to get there on time. I’ve been sitting in the same seat since the semester started. I’m kinda OCD that way—I don’t like changing seats each time.”
He inched closer, his eyes fixed on her face. She tried to read him, but she couldn’t tell anything except that he was definitely giving off some wh
acked-out vibes. His brown eyes bored into her and his face was tight, like he was clenching his teeth.
He continued to approach her. Each time he took a step, she moved back until she was pressed against the wall. If he comes any closer, I’m going to scream. He took another step. She opened her mouth, but before she could make good on her promise, Ricky came in through the open door. Relief washed over her and she let out a long breath. She saw him check out Marcus, who was only inches away from her, then look at her, eyebrow raised.
She pulled away from the wall and waved. “Hey, Ricky, you ready to do some psychology?” Kylie placed her hand over her wildly beating heart. Marcus craned his neck and, seeing the six-foot Ricky, mumbled something incomprehensible before scurrying out.
Ricky watched him as he left, then closed the door. “Who was that?”
“Some weird guy who came up to me at the spring festival and has been acting like we’re friends ever since. He’s in my poli-sci class.” She wrapped her arms tighter around herself. “He definitely gives me the creeps. Have you seen him around campus?”
He shook his head. “I’ve never seen him. He’s not in any of my classes, but I can find out who he is. My friend has work study, and he has a job in the registrar’s office. He can look up anyone. Do you know the creeper’s last name?”
“No, but I can find out. I’ll give it to you when I do. I just want to know what he’s up to. I mean, it’s like he just appeared and now he seems to have some fucking bug on me.” She shivered.
“If he bothers you again, let me know. I’ll talk to him.” Ricky stared at her, not like a friend, but in a way a man does when he’s interested in a woman.
Kylie grabbed her psychology book and pulled out her desk chair. She motioned to Ricky to sit down. “Thanks for the offer, but I think it’ll be okay. I guess I’m just nervous about finals and getting through all the projects and papers due in the next two weeks.” She didn’t want to think about the way Ricky looked at her.
