by Shyla Colt
“I’m clean. I can show you my papers. I want you to get you on birth control so I can come inside you.”
The idea sent a thrill through her.
He smiled. “You like that?”
“Yes. I’m clean too.”
“I figured as much, baby girl.” The endearment wrapped around her and bound them as surely as a rope. They were sharing something tangible she couldn’t name. “I’m close, baby. Can I come on you? Rub my seed over your skin and pretend it’s inside that tight pussy of yours?”
“Oh yes.”
The room went silent except for his ragged breathing. The cords of muscles in his neck and arms strained. A low moan filled the room, and he moved swiftly, painting her belly and chest white. The sticky, hot liquid banished the lingering chill. Whatever existed between them wouldn’t be ignored or pushed aside.
Chapter Eight
Juliette glanced at herself in the mirror and scowled. What the hell did you wear to a party at a M.C. Club? Shooter assured her whatever was comfortable would be good, but she didn’t want to stick out like a sore thumb. In the end, she opted for a pair of dark denim skinny jeans and a flowing black tank top with silver straps. She’d exchanged heels for a pair of black combat boots she’d bought the first week she and Shooter had been together.
Things had been going well for them. What if they didn’t like her? What if she offended someone? Her stomach tightened, like a shirt shrinking after being submerged in cold water. After fluffing the hair she’d wrapped in curling rods the night before, she placed her hands on her hips.
“This is as good as it’s going to get, Moore.” Sticking her tongue out, she then laughed at her silliness. Being with Shooter brought out her playful side. He made life seem a lot more exciting and carefree. It was hard to be a bundle of nerves when the person you were with avoided it like the plague. His unique take on the world made for interesting conversations.
The familiar rumble of his motorcycle vibrated the air, and she grinned. Grabbing her black purse, she hurried out of the room to the front door and opened it. Eager to meet the man she considered family and see how Shooter lived, her body tingled.
“Hi!” She pushed forward on the balls of her feet, and he grinned, giving her a slow once-over.
“I think that’s some sort of record.”
“You never have to wait on me.”
“No, but I don’t think you’ve ever met me in the driveway.”
“I missed you?”
“Yeah, it’s been a long five hours.”
“Shut up, Shooter.”
His deep chuckle made her stomach flutter. The intensity between them never faded. One look and her panties were drenched. So much that she’d started stashing extra pairs in handy places.
The look on Joey’s face when she’d shoved a pair of thong underwear in the inner pocket of her purse and zipped it shut had been priceless. After her quick explanation of what she’d done, Joey’s whispered, “I have to get me one of those”, still made Juliette smirk.
Shooter handed her the black helmet he’d had customized with an Old English J in white. Placing it on her head, he tightened the chin strap, and she climbed behind him like a pro. She’d come to enjoy riding bitch.
“Anything I need to know before we get there?” she asked.
“Same as usual— any problems, let me know. I’m going to introduce you to some old ladies. They’ll look out for you. I think you’ll like the Prez’s Old Lady, Boston. She’s a firecracker, but fair, and fairly down to Earth unless you rile her up. Which I can’t see you doing.”
“Thanks?” She queried. He laughed and faced forward. Clutching his waist, she leaned in against his back as he pulled out of the driveway and onto the road. Closing her eyes, she enjoyed the wind in her face as it blew her hair out behind her.
With Shooter the normal things didn’t apply. He liked her dressed up the same way he did dressed down, just out of bed, sweaty from the gym. When there was no need to put on airs or live through the pretend-to–be-perfect phase most couples did, you got to the heart of things in a direct manner.
They pulled up to the gated facility, and her mouth became a desert. The scantily-clad women entering the building ahead of her made her swallow hard. Someone ran down to open the gate, and Shooter pulled in, parking his bike a few yards down from the others. Once the kickstand was lowered, he moved off and offered his hand. She took it and pursed her lips.
“Don’t be nervous, baby. They’ve been looking forward to meeting the woman who tamed me.”
“I don’t think that’s possible.”
“That’s because you’re smart.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and guided her into the large warehouse-like building. Loud rock and roll spilled from the inside as they approached the door. Shooter opened the door, and she preceded him inside.
Bodies filled every available space. Pool tables lined the far back corner of the large room, and a bar took up one wall. Her gaze darted around as she attempted to take it all in. Men clad in everything from leather pants to worn denim in familiar, black vests with the Lords emblem on it filled the space. Women in booty shorts, tiny skirts, and suggestive dresses hung on their arms, against the bar, and lounged on couches.
A glance down at her outfit made her want to go back and rethink her choice. Shooter hugged her to him.
“I’m going to introduce you to a few people.”
Nodding, she leaned into him, trying to avoid bumping others in the crowded space. Imaginary daggers pricked her as women narrowed their eyes and followed her progression. Were these all women Shooter had slept with?
Her stomach ached. She couldn’t measure up to these twiggy frames. Sweeping the crowd again, she noted the absence of African Americans. There was a vest-less man in the back and a sizeable number of brown-skinned men and women she thought might be of Spanish decent.
“Hey! Is this the Old Lady?” someone with a loud voice boomed.
Jumping slightly, she looked up and grinned at the familiar face. The large, burly man with a thick, full beard, laughing blue eyes, and hands the size of hams patted Shooter on the shoulder.
“You actually made an honest man out of the fucker. Congrats to both of you. I thought for a minute Shooter was making that up, eh?” He grinned and his brilliant whites chased away the scary impression she’d received the first time she met him.
“Nice to see you again, Moose.” Unable to resist his charisma she beamed.
“You guys want a drink?”
“Hell, yeah.” Shooter nodded. She could see how at home he was here, though his demeanor remained the same.
“Please,” she added.
“Come on. Let’s hit the bar.”
Lined up at the bar a few minutes later, they were greeted by a porcelain-skinned redhead.
“Hey, Red, can I get a beer?”
“Sure, Moose.” Leaning forward to show off the swell of her obviously inflated breasts, she leered at Shooter. “And what can I get for you?”
Narrowing her eyes, Juliette clenched her teeth. The blatant offer scraped her nerves raw. The muscle in her cheek ticked.
“A beer’s fine and,” Shooter turned to her, “what’ll you have, baby?”
This bitch’s heart on a platter. She’d never been catty or aggressive, but she knew in order to be in his world she’d have to learn.
“Rum and Coke.”
“And a rum and Coke, Red.”
“Coming right up.” Turning away, she set the beers in front of Moose and Shooter and began to make Juliette’s drink.
“I’ve never seen you around,” Red said, mad-dogging Juliette as she sloppily made her drink.
“This is my Old Lady, Juliette.”
Red’s blue eyes went as round as dinner plates, and Juliette smirked. Checkmate.
Clearly stun
ned, Red handed over the drink silently. The malice visible in the depths of her blues told Juliette she’d best watch her back.
“Yo, Red, another round this way!”
“Duty calls.” Red turned to serve the group at the end of the bar.
“Come on, baby girl, I see the Prez over there with Boston. I want to introduce you.”
After swirling her drink to mix the alcohol with the soda, she brought the glass to her lips and took a giant gulp. “Okay.” They navigated the dimly-lit, smoky room, and her heart sped.
The Prez was a giant man who made her want to run screaming in the opposite direction. Burly, bald, and rocking scruff, he had stone-colored, old eyes. This was a man who’d seen a lot. Scars lined his neck and forearms.
“Tiny, this is my Old Lady, Juliette.”
“Welcome to the family. I heard a lot about you.” His sandpaper rough voice caused goose bumps to erupt on her arms.
“Good things, I hope?” she squeaked.
“Oh, yeah. This is my Old Lady, Boston.”
“Hi Juliette, nice to meet you.” She held out her hand. The petite brunette with large, amber-colored eyes fringed with dark lashes had a striking, oval-shaped face with high cheekbones and dusky pink lips.
“Likewise.” Juliette shook her hand, warmed by the genuine kindness she saw.
“Why don’t you show her around while Shooter and I talk shop?” Tiny asked.
“Come on, Juliette, I’ll introduce you to some of the girls.”
Casting a forlorn look at her giant security blanket, she followed Boston.
“I’m going to take you by the office so we can talk,” Boston called over the noise.
Juliette nodded. They made their way down a hallway and slipped into a large office.
“This is Tiny’s office. No one will wander back here.” Boston perched on the edge of the wooden furniture and motioned to the chair in front of her. Juliette sank into it.
“I don’t do this for all the girls, but one look at you and I knew you were clueless about the lifestyle. Not having this talk would be like leaving you to the wolves.”
Juliette winced. “That obvious, huh?”
“It’s not a bad thing. Some of these girls have been wrung out wet and hung to dry. My dad was in a M.C. back home, so I knew about them. Never thought I’d date a biker personally, not after the hell it caused my mother. But then I met Tiny…and the heart wants what the heart wants.” She shrugged.
“Tell me about it,” Juliette whispered.
Boston threw back her head, letting loose a loud, full-bellied laugh. “It got you too, huh?”
“Big time.”
“Every M.C. has its own quirks, and Lords is no different. A lot of places keep their old ladies completely separate from the club business and only allow them in the building during family days. We have some members who follow that line of thinking. Others like Tiny bring their old ladies along when the mood strikes them. Most important thing to remember is what goes on here stays here. You can’t run your mouth about other people’s business. We can’t have tension in the club. Think of it like the armed forces. At the end of the day all the bullshit gets left at the door and only family, our inner circle, matters.”
“It’s a big deal Shooter brought me tonight?”
“Huge. He’s showing the Sweetbutts and cycle chasers he’s off the market. I’m not saying they won’t test his resolve, but they won’t do it in front of you. It’s against the rules. Old Ladies are high on the totem and they’re cannon fodder.” Her upper lip curled. “Bottom dwellers, most of them. A few are decent.”
“How do you deal with all this?”
“Me personally? By any means necessary.” The friendliness and compassion left her voice, and her delicate face turned to granite. She reminded her of a carved angel statue. “I’ve busted bitches’ heads open, had them banned, whatever it took to get my point across. Being with the Prez, everyone is vying for your position by his side. So my experiences are worlds away from the ones you’ll have.”
Astounded by the fresh batch of information, Juliette nodded.
“Don’t let what I’ve said scare you. It’s a great life. This family takes care of its own and lives away from the pressures society places on people. You just have to be willing to flex a little muscle every now and then.” Boston curved her right arm, displaying a well-developed biceps, and Juliette snickered.
“For Shooter I think I could manage. I got a crazy side. I just try not to access it on a regular basis.”
“I thought I sensed that about you.” Boston winked. “There are some good girls here tonight. I’ll introduce you and bring you back to Shooter before he gets too worried. It’s fun seeing this side of him. I could see the concern mounting in his eyes when you moved out of view.”
“Really?” Intrigued, she leaned forward in her chair. “What’s he like?”
“Funny, cool, calm, collected, and bad ass. All the things that attracted you to him in the first place must be a byproduct of all that time he spent in the military.”
“That was my thought too.” Juliette nodded in agreement.
“Come on, I think we could both use another drink, and Anisa and Rikki are dying to meet you. There aren’t too many old ladies around here.”
Returning to the crowd with a lot more confidence, she found herself able to enjoy the experience. These were people she’d never come into contact with if it wasn’t for Shooter. They were all bigger than life, blunt, and yet, a sense of camaraderie existed between them. Treated with respect by the people she met and taken under the wings of Rikki, Anisa, and Boston, she was high on success and buzzed when they returned to Shooter, Tiny, and Moose.
“Hey, baby, how’re you doing?” He scanned her face. The visible concern sent a feeling she didn’t want to examine closely through her body.
“Good.” Rising up on her tiptoes, she pressed a quick kiss to his lips.
“They treating you right?”
“Yes,” She spoke against his lips. “I’m learning all your secrets.”
“Baby, that’d take a lifetime.” Twining his hands in her hair, he deepened the lip lock, thrusting his tongue in her mouth.
Lost in him, she whimpered when he broke their lip lock.
“Which is exactly how long it’s going to take for me to get what I want from you.”
Her knees weakened. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed against his body to keep her balance. Her mouth went dry.
“I think we should get started, don’t you?” He slid his hands down her back to cup her ass.
“I—”
He squeezed her ass and she squeaked. Boisterous laughter from the men and women around her made her nervous.
“Shooter,” she hissed.
“Come on, baby girl, I’ll show you my room.” His breath tickled her ear. After placing her on her feet, he grabbed her hand and pulled her through the crowd, down a hallway.
“My room is the third down on the left side.” The plaque by the door that said Shooter made her smile. After opening the door, he flicked on the light.
“Ignore the mess.” Small piles of T-shirts and pants littered the floor. He kicked the door shut then spun her to face him. “I need to be buried deep inside you, baby. Here where I lay my head most nights. Is the birth control working?”
“Yes,” she whimpered as he pulled her tank top over her head.
His heated fingers trailed up her sides. Shoes were cast aside. Clothing hit the ground. Reconnecting at the mouth, they walked backward to the bed.
“Get on your knees. I’m going to fuck you until you scream and I fill your pussy up with my come.”
“Yes!” Climbing on to the bed, she pushed her ass up. He caressed her round cheeks and moved to test her sex.
“Always so wet and ready for me.�
�� Fisting his thick cock, he crawled up behind her, caressed her with the head, and thrust home. She clutched the sheets and rocked back to meet him. The slap of skin rent the air as he nailed her onto the bed. The angle let him penetrate deep. He hit the button inside her that brought all rational thought to a halt.
“Fuck, so good!” he growled.
She peered over her shoulder. “Fuck me harder.”
“Yes!” The bed rocked, tapping the headboard against the wall. Her pussy fluttered. Digging his fingers into the flesh of her hips, he brushed her cervix, sending jolts of pleasurable pain zinging through her body.
“Do it, come in my pussy, Shooter.” Squeezing her muscles tight as a fine tremble overtook her, she felt him swell and his muscles tense. Unable to hold on any longer, she screamed and covered his cock with a rush of heated liquid. A few strokes later he followed her, coating her insides with his essence. Closing her eyes, she cherished the feeling. She’d never allowed anyone else to do this. Not even Peter, who’d controlled her every move for so long.
Shooter flipped them to their sides, remaining inside her. Flying high, she snuggled against him as their breathing evened out, content and relieved her introduction had been disaster-free.
Shooter sat up in bed. His body tensed as he strained to see in the darkened room. Easing open the drawer beside him, he drew his gun and waited. A giggle filled the space, and he shook his head.
Crazy ass bitches wandering around drunk.
Clicking on the light, his jaw hit the ground.
“Surprise!”
Pale supple skin, bare pussies, and long dark hair greeted him. He blinked, but the vision remained. Of all the time for the Demasi twins to pay him a late-night visit.
“What the fuck!” Juliette’s voice rang out.
“Oh…are we making it a foursome tonight?” The one on the right— Jessica?—asked.
“’Cause she’s pretty, and we like chocolate every now and then.” Jane’s eyes shone with approval as she gave Juliette a slow once-over while she scrambled to cover her body.
“Is this why you brought me here?” Disgust dripped from every word. “Fuck you for making me think you were different. I’m not doing this again.”
