Learning Couple

by Laran Mithras

Dismissed as easily as that, I wondered if my oh-fuck radar was malfunctioning. Something just didn't seem right. I was turning away when I caught a flash out of the corner of my eye. It was in the mirror of the bar that I saw his arm below the table. He brought it back up and set his beer bottle on the table. I turned and went past him back to the restrooms. Glancing down, I saw that his bottle was half empty.

  I washed my hands for something to do and came back out.

  Traveling man had his map out, doodling trails along roadways.

  I passed him without looking. Private investigator? I went outside but stayed near the doorway so I could see Wallet and Firehose. The car outside he had pulled up in was not a rental. I took a pic of his license plate then leaned into the bar. The man had the posture of just looking down to doodle. I took a pic while he was pretending to be busy. I attached the two pics and forwarded them to Sonar.

  Jim Butcher: Have a plate and pic for you. Might be under surveillance

  I dismissed the matter from my mind, except to occasionally look at the guy. His beer didn't change, though he pretended to swig it back. I don't think he was fooling Tequila, either. Her one raised eyebrow and tired look told me she had noticed it. I shrugged at her and she sort of wiggled her head as if to say, "Who cares?"

  Maybe he was looking for us. Maybe not. Private detectives could also be building a profile on a cheating husband or wife. Or for a divorce. Who knew? Looking for leads on missing people, maybe. Ace? The child molester? Miguel? Nothing we had to show was going to put much in the man's files, if that's what he was doing.

  ~ ~ ~

  I entered the trailer and heard voices. I was tired; I didn't want to do anything but crawl in bed and hug my wife to sleep.

  Dealer was sitting in our small den talking with Kristy. He looked up at me as I shut the door behind me.

  I grunted.

  He nodded to me. "I was just telling Kristy that we need to end the little relationship thing we had going on."

  "Oh?"

  Kristy was pouting, eyes glassy with unshed tears.

  He scratched at his gray beard stubble. "It won't be good for the club if it continues. I foresee a lot of insinuations coming from it from the younger members that you're buying your way in with your wife."

  "But that's not true."

  "Yes, we know that, but others will get ideas, no matter what we say. We need to cut this off." He was sitting in the recliner.

  I dropped down onto the couch with a sigh. "Do you not want her around the clubhouse—"

  He interrupted me. "No, no, we don't need to be that drastic. And she's been close to some of the others. That's fine, too. But as president, I have to be above all that."

  Kristy was shaking her head. "But we've had fun..."

  Dealer looked disappointed. "I know it. Without a doubt."

  I muttered, "If it has to stop, then it has to stop. For the good of the club."

  The president said nothing, just looked at me with appreciation.

  My wife pleaded, "But why?"

  Dealer said, "Women belonging to members mixing with the president can look bad. It looks worse when the woman's husband is a prospect. We don't want a reputation or even a rumor that you fucked your husband's way into the club." He shook his head. "That kind of word gets around and it sticks, no matter how much you deny it."

  She said, "Then you can come here and we can—"

  He shook his head emphatically. "Word of that gets around, too. Not good."

  We were all quiet for a minute or so.

  Kristy wiped at her eyes. "Can we do it one last time?" Her mouth worked to say more, but she appeared lost in the myriad of things running through her mind.

  He scrubbed his hand back over his buzzed head. "I can't say it doesn't appeal..." His breathing quickened.

  I felt his attraction to her. I could sense his cock hardening over thoughts of making love to my wife. My own cock began thickening, despite my weariness. I said, "One more? It would mean a lot to her if you're cutting her off."

  His eyes were bright and he blew out a breath. "Yeah, all right. All right." He stood. "Let's do it."

  I followed them into the bedroom.

  His hands shook as he stripped out of his clothes. His breathing was rapid and excited. It all made my cock throb with desire.

  I stripped out of my clothes and laid on the edge of the bed. I began stroking myself, spreading that pleasurable tension up and down my shaft.

  He was kissing her and then lowered her to the bed. His cock stood straight out, thick and throbbing. All for my wife. He climbed between her legs slowly, but I could see him shaking with desperation to sink his shaft into her. He looked down, and grabbed his cock to position it at her opening.

  My wife was looking up at him, her thighs spread wide. She wanted him in her again, I could see it. I could feel it.

  He moved forward and settled on her, sliding his cock slowly into her pussy. He let out a deep sigh as their bodies met. My wife's mouth was open and her arms trembled as they hugged his shoulders. They kissed as he began moving his butt. Their thigh muscles worked as their hips tilted against each other.

  I couldn't see anything, but I knew he was deep in her.

  With his butt clenching and moving faster between her thin thighs, he broke the kiss. She moaned happily, but also with an amount of desperation. Her hands roamed over his muscular back and her eyes were locked on his.

  I stroked to their two moving bodies, seeing nothing but a naked man on my naked wife. They might have just been embracing without penetration for all I knew. But I knew that what I was seeing was an immense turn-on. I stroked at the same speed as his thrusting and loved it.

  CHAPTER 6

  I lay next to her in the darkness, playing with the cum leaking out of her pussy. She was sniffing, trying not to weep. I felt bad and removed my fingers. Why should I get any pleasure out of this when she isn't? I stroked her hair. "Why the tears?"

  She sniffled. "I've been so alone all my life. Then I find you and things are great. I felt whole."

  "Me, too."

  "And then we were abducted. It was terrifying at first. The way things happened. They even tore my wedding dress."

  My mouth firmed; I had wanted to kill them all. At first.

  "But then I saw things in them. I saw their doubts about us – in all of them. Suddenly all that terror radiating from them becomes shame. They knew they had screwed up."

  I listened to her breathe for a moment. I knew what she had left unsaid: they had become nice.

  "They treated us so well after that. It was like coming home to family. When we were let go, I didn't want to go."

  "Neither did I, though I didn't feel it until we got home."

  "Did you know they had us followed? That was a big test: would we go home or go to the police?"

  I jerked back away from her. "No, I didn't know." I felt as if I had proved something.

  "We came back; we took jobs. They've all made us feel welcome. It's so different than going to work and having your coworkers say good morning. It was so lifeless before – so meaningless. And then Dealer made me feel special. His... fascination with me reinforced their regret at having mistook us. I really felt like I was valuable as a person."

  "You still are."

  "But now he's rejecting me."

  I squeezed her shoulder. "He doesn't hate you; it's a struggle for him. He's doing it for the club."

  "What difference does it make?"

  "We still have their friendship. Their welcome."

  "I had something special with him; I won't have that anymore."

  I was slightly disturbed she was taking it so badly. I blew out a low breath. "I understand. But you still have the others. Viking really likes you and so does Big Pizza. And I'm sure the others do, too."

  "You didn't mind Viking and me...?"

  I laughed. "No, of course not. It's not like he hasn't already been with you. Maybe he can give you what Dealer doesn't." I shrug
ged, not knowing what to say to divert her attention away from being morose.

  She didn't respond.

  I didn't feel like this was a good time to bring up Ghost and neither did I think it was time to mention Donna. Kristy was feeling let down by Dealer, even though we both knew he would still treat her with the kind of attention we both valued, if not in a sexual way. "Everyone there likes us. Let's just accept all they can give."

  ~ ~ ~

  I was eating breakfast with Kristy at the Keystone Café in honor of her thirty-sixth birthday. Days had passed since Dealer's final visit to her and she seemed to be recovering nicely. If not as jovial and peppy as before the break-off, she was at least smiling.

  She said, "So what does a sweep do?"

  "I ride with the last group of players. I'll be playing, too."

  "Can I play?"

  "Of course; you'll be riding with me anyway."

  She smiled, happy for the chance to go on a distance ride on my Harley. "Sounds like fun."

  "I'm the last player, and tell those at the checkpoints it's time to close up."

  She nodded. "Oh. Then what?"

  "They all meet at the starting and ending point, in this case, a Bandido casino called Jeannie's Jackpot."

  "Bandidos?"

  "In the city. We'll start and end there."

  "Why not here?"

  I grinned. "More participants in the city. We'll be riding out after breakfast on Sunday."

  "The Bandidos won't go to war with us?"

  I chuckled. "No, not at all. They sanctioned the Iron Crows. They're on good terms."

  "Oh."

  "How have the pop-ups been to you?" I was referring to those from the former Sons of Aggression motorcycle club.

  "Slicer is really nice. The others are okay."

  We paused while Kimmie the waitress set down our breakfast plates. The clatter of plates and cups and the low murmuring of the café's patrons were like a blanket of warmth. It went well with the aroma of coffee. I told Kimmie, "Thanks."

  She was an ugly waitress, but slim in her lemon-yellow restaurant uniform and apron – the type of dress no one would ever wear if they had a choice. However, she was very nice and enthusiastically efficient. "Let me top off your coffees..." She poured and then turned and left us.

  Kristy continued where she had left off. "I think the guys are nervous about being unpatched."

  "I bet I would be, too. You think you're a motorcycle club and the next thing you know is that others don't agree. They were posers."

  "I don't think Massacre is going to fit in."

  I shook my head. "Me, neither. He's a lot like Ace was. Very sure of himself, but in a bad way. Almost as if he and Ace were the ones that used the club. Had the plans for prostitutes and drugs when the other members didn't want it."

  "Slaughter sure wasn't onboard with that."

  I laughed quietly. "And he was their VP."

  She sipped her coffee and regarded me over the brim of her cup. I saw a happiness there, despite the Dealer thing. Her warm glow radiated all the love of before.

  But what are you hiding about Ghost? Anything? Or are the rumors wrong?

  ~ ~ ~

  Sure, I'd say that my breakfast with Kristy was definitely nicer than cleaning toilets. Despite the distaste of the duty, I made sure the job was done as efficiently as Kimmie had served us at the café.

  I always started in the kitchen wing of the old brothel and worked my way to the club's offices in the other wing at the end. By the time I got to Ghost's office, his door was shut. I frowned and knocked.

  There was a murmur from inside. Then, "Come in."

  I opened the door and pushed my cart in.

  Ghost scowled at me. He always scowled at me: the man scowled at everyone. Kristy was next to him, sitting in a chair pulled close. Her blouse was unbuttoned and she was in the process of buttoning it up.

  I raised an eyebrow. Oh, tit-action, huh? Is that all there is? I pushed past them to the bathroom and attacked his toilet with as much efficiency as the others.

  Kristy cleared her throat. "So...did you play around with the spreadsheet program yesterday?"

  Ghost grunted.

  I heard clicks of his mouse. I didn't care if he covered for taking an interest in my wife. Kristy seemed to thrive on the attention and what did I care if the biker scowled all the time? I just found it odd that it was Ghost being so friendly with her. Even more so than Viking.

  It was Friday, and my schedule had been shifted around to allow others to learn in my place. A friend of Smiley's was going to bounce at the Daily under the tutelage of Twenty. I had tonight off, and tomorrow as well. Everyone had much of Sunday off for the big ride.

  I was in for a surprise this night.

  CHAPTER 7

  I was in a great mood. The members of the Iron Crows bossed me around, but in a good way. Other than cleaning toilets, I fetched things: beers; napkins; plates. I polished helmets. I collected darts from the dartboard by the pool table. I even shoveled up Jonesy-droppings in the dirt patch out back. These were things for which I harbored no hate, as they proved to them I was part of the team.

  I was certainly allowed to relax near the end of the day. Scotch in hand, I settled on Pulverizer for conversation. I said, "I saw you signed for the poker run."

  He grinned, bright-eyed, and nodded. "Wouldn't miss it."

  I felt he was one of the four or five Sons of Posers that would be a good fit for the Iron Crows. Wasn't up to me, though. "Big Pizza said you'd be riding at the back, right?"

  He made a face. "Yeah, why though? Is it because of Ace's—"

  I shook my head, holding up my drink. "I have to ride in back, too. It's because we're newer to riding as part of a club. Less responsive to mass movements of close-riding motorcycles."

  "Hmm."

  "You wouldn't want to pick up a nickname like Bump."

  He chuckled. "For running into the guy in front of me?"

  I laughed and nodded. "Apparently, it's a very shameful nickname." I was standing, leaning.

  He frowned at my leg. "Was that the leg that took the knife?"

  I realized I was favoring it and shifted to balance equally. "Yeah."

  "I've seen your limp."

  Maybe only one thing could have been more disappointing to hear: not meeting up to Iron Crow's standards. I lowered my gaze. I had always walked perfectly. Went through Kenpo instruction and learned most of the katas. I didn't realize all I took for granted until something got injured and my use of it suffered. I couldn't imagine losing a hand. How would I ride? "I guess it's just a little stiff."

  Dealer was nearby and let out a guffaw.

  I glanced over at him, not sure if he was laughing at my leg or not.

  His eyes twinkled at me and he winked.

  Pulverizer said, "It's not like something you can stretch out?"

  I had tried that. "It's a tightness, as if things healed without their usual limber. I've tried stretching, but it just twinges as if the muscle is tearing or something."

  "Ouch." He drank some of his beer and said right after his swallow, "Well, you look like you get around easily enough. Could have been worse, huh?"

  I grunted.

  He was looking at my vest. "So how long are you going to be a prospect?"

  "I don't know; until I prove myself – if I ever do."

  "You seem like a good guy."

  I shook my head and lowered my voice. "I think it's more than that. There's millions of good guys out there. And women, too. I think it's more a matter of fit. How well do I – or anyone else – fit?"

  He lowered his voice with me. "And these guys fight the gangs? Keep them out of town?"

  I nodded.

  "Do you think they'll go after the Surenos?"

  "I can't comment on that. Primarily because I don't know." His former president of the pop-up had gone missing. A strip of blue Pendleton was found outside his garage. The sheriff had suspected the Surenos and chalked it down to
gang violence. I wasn't sure what to think; Ace had gone missing just one day after I had told the Iron Crows where the man lived. Coincidence? I thought not, but wasn't sure.

  I had seen Miguel Hernandez flirting with suspicious types at the motel – climbing in and out of a white van. I had watched him pull a gun on Dealer. I had watched him die faster than he could aim and pull the trigger. Seen him die in seconds, the body carried out in a rug. What had happened to the body? These are things I wasn't likely to be privy to as a prospect.

  I had other things on my mind, anyway: my functions as a prospect; and even more importantly, my wife's stress over her relationship to the club and its president. I looked for her and found her. I froze in the act of drinking, then recovered and swallowed the rest of my Scotch. She was sitting on Gripper's knee. Tequila was on his other knee. He had a big smile on his face and his log-sized arms around both. Leathers and Big Pizza were standing by, talking with them.

  I kept an eye on them, occasionally casting glances back to them as I talked to Pulverizer about the poker run.

  I got distracted talking about the Raffle. When I found them, they weren't sitting anymore. Tequila was leading Gripper, my wife, and the two other bikers down the hall towards the kitchen.

  I wiggled my empty glass at Pulverizer. "Going to refresh my drink and check something out. Get back to ya later."

  "Sure thing, man." His smile was easy and reassuring.

  I felt bad leaving him like that, but he could find anyone to talk to. After getting a refill of Scotch, I saw him already talking to Viking and Dragon. I made my way down the hall to the closed door I had seen Tequila and Gripper use before. I entered the room and they all glanced my way. Just as quickly, they went back to various states of undressing.

  Kristy looked at me with uncertainty before continuing to strip. Big Pizza came over to me and said, "Exciting way to end the night. You looking forward to the ride?" He was the Captain – the one who organized rides.

  I nodded. "Very much so."

  Big Pizza was always a very congenial sort. His smile was no less at this moment. "Think I'll get me a fresh drink, too, while this gets going." He nudged me with his elbow and winked. He didn't seem bothered his wife was naked and kissing Gripper on the bed. He left the room and shut the door behind him.