Our hands twisted around one another, pulling us into a knot. Our clothes and our bodies were filthy with road dust, sand and the grime you build up over a long, hard morning. It didn't matter. In that moment, our bodies were all there was. We pressed against one another and kissed for the first time without any words. Sometimes you don't need words to say what you're both thinking. I'd seen the way Ian watched me with Trevor. I knew what he wanted but would never allow himself to have. Now there was nothing standing in our way. In another lifetime, maybe I would have met Ian first. If so, I might not have been in the desert that morning and everything would be different now. Just as there's no sense pulling on the threads of fate, there's no sense in denying what you really want. Trevor was only a few hours gone and here I was in the arms of his best friend. Some part of me worried about what others would think, but only a little. I was doing what I wanted. I was being free. I wasn't throwing away my memory of Trevor, but holding onto it didn't mean mourning for him forever.
Ian pushed away from me just slightly, but his hands were still clasped tight around my waist. I could see the look of uncertainty in his eyes. As much as we both wanted this, the friend we'd left behind had been practically his brother.
"Tina, wait," he said, "We can't do this."
"We absolutely can," I told him, adamant in my resolve, "I'm through accepting what other people decide to give me. From now on I'm taking what I want. Right now I need to feel the touch of a real man. If you aren't him, then let go of me so I can go find him."
"But... what about Trevor?"
"He's gone. And the truth is, my feelings for him were gone long before this morning. It's you I want, Ian. You're the one. I couldn't say anything before now, but we have to be honest with one another. I know you want this as much as I do."
Just as the ultimatum I'd issued for Nitty a few minutes before, the results were immediate. Ian pulled me close to him and seemed to come unleashed from his worry and commitment to a dead friend. He kissed me more passionately than before, hinting at a deep longing that had been buried for too long. Our hands worked against one another's bodies, exploring for the first time. You can see someone every day for months, but if you never get your hands on them you can't really know who they are as a person.
With his hesitation out of the way, Ian's advantage in size and strength over me put him into the driver's seat. He swung me around until my butt was pressed up against the desk. With one strong lunge he lifted me up and I sat down on top of Trevor's useless piles of receipts and papers. I curled my legs around him and pulled him forward against me once again. Our lips met with the hunger of someone who has been denied their true desires for too long. The firefight, my rise to power within the club and even Trevor's death seemed to vanish from my thoughts. My longing for Ian was all that remained.
As we kissed, we each blindly fumbled with the buttons on our jeans, desperate to relieve ourselves of anything so burdensome as clothing. To make up for the lack of our hands on one another, our mouths worked overtime, laying into each other with forceful kisses that spoke volumes about the heat that was burning between us. Indeed, I could feel not only the rising warmth of his body as it pressed against mine, but the glowing fire between my legs that needed only one thing to quench it.
Ian pulled his tight pants down to his knees, exposing himself to me for the first time. His manhood was thick and hard as marble. It jutted out from his body like a spur of rock on the statue of a Greek god. I lifted myself off the desk slightly and he took the hint, tugging sharply at my pants until I was completely revealed to him as well. He wasted no time and took his shaft in hand, guiding it towards the dripping heat between my legs. He pushed himself forward slowly, easing into me. I barely had the breath to gasp as we continued to kiss. Breathing was completely secondary now - only passion was left to me.
As he entered me I pulled him closer with my legs, nearly crushing him in the tight grip of my powerful muscles. With every inch of him, I felt my hunger for him growing. I put my hands inside his vest, just above his waist and pulled him towards me with all my strength. He began rocking his hips back and forth, surging into me again and again with that thick, powerful member. Every time he would slide away from me I dragged him back in forcefully. In seconds, the warm, resonant sound of our bodies slamming together filled the small room. I moaned softly, but tried to keep my voice low. There was no telling who might be listening, and I didn't want to be interrupted.
They say that danger can bring people together in unexpected ways. I certainly never saw my budding relationship with Ian on the radar. When I woke up that morning, I was sleeping next to Trevor and imagined that was how I'd be going to bed as well. Even after three months though, the fires of my passion for Trevor had become low embers. The things I felt for Ian as he pounded into me were nothing but the hottest flames imaginable. I hadn't felt that way in years, if ever. I've heard that power is the ultimate aphrodisiac, and maybe it's true. Assuming the title of president had lit a spark inside of me that only Ian had a hope of containing.
My body was sore from stress and the ride, and the battering that Ian's body made against my own was delicious agony. I let myself relax into it, focusing only on the pleasure he was bringing me and the desire to keep pulling him in for more. I felt a warm glow rising inside of me and knew that I need only allow it to engulf me. I didn't resist it, and my entire body tingled. I bit my lip to keep from screaming out as it exploded through my limbs, making me shiver even as I pulled him deep inside of me once again.
I whispered quietly, "Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh my god!" As I climaxed, I gripped myself tightly around his member and I could feel every ridge and every vein of him. With every long stroke of his cock, it felt harder and thicker. His jackhammer-like pounding became more and more erratic and I knew he was close as well. My hands dug into his side as I pulled him in again and again, riding out the last waves of my own orgasm.
I felt him explode inside of me and pulled him tight against my body, wanting to feel the warm surge of his cum flooding into me. I felt his cock pulsing as he emptied himself inside of me. I saw that he, too, was biting his lip and he let out only a low groan that may have been a growl as he came.
We held each other close, his still-rigid member still buried deep inside of me. Our breathing relaxed and we tried to get hold of ourselves despite the unbridled passion that had taken control of our bodies only seconds before. It felt good to have that strong, powerful man between my legs. I couldn't help but be reminded of the way it felt to ride a motorcycle for the first time. There was nothing but raw power between my legs. There was more strength there than anything I could muster, and yet I was in control. My motions guided the experience and took me where I wanted to go. Being with Ian was much the same. Even the leadership of the Wind Riders had its similarities. If I could control the raw power of the club, it would take me where I wanted to go. I simply had to choose a direction.
☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼
Ian and I got dressed slowly. We couldn't stop grinning at one another like a couple of teenagers who just fooled around in the teacher's lounge or something. I had to admit, the thrill of hooking up with him there in Trevor's old office was pretty exhilarating. Except that it wasn't Trevor's office anymore. I suppose it was my office, though I hadn't really had time to process that bit of information yet. We snuck back out to the garage carefully, fully prepared to discover a half-dozen eavesdroppers outside the door, ready to jeer at us.
Instead we found the garage empty. Part of me was actually disappointed at that. From outside the big garage bay doors I could hear Kevin yelling something at Needles as they worked on the van. I didn't often feel bad for Kevin - he just wasn't the sort of person that caused many sympathetic feelings in others - but I knew he had a hell of a job ahead of him. It was one thing to get an engine running, but he had bullet holes to patch and the whole van needed to look like new if we were to have any chance of making my plan work. I supposed I should go te
ll him what the plan was. Maybe a bit of information about the end goal would keep him focused on the job.
Ian sat down hard on one of the couches that they'd dragged into the clubhouse to make it a bit more comfortable. I wouldn't call it very comfortable, but I suppose it was better than sitting on wooden crates or whatever they'd done beforehand. He slung one of his legs over the arm of the couch in a decidedly ridiculous posture. I couldn't help but laugh at him. Men always got that look of personal triumph after sex, as if they'd just conquered an unknown land or something. Ian was usually pretty reserved but today he had that look all over his face.
"I'm going to go talk to Kevin," I told him. He just nodded and reached for the TV remote. If he wanted some time to relax, I was perfectly okay with it. We both had big mornings, and I wasn't going to fault him for it if he wanted to spend a bit of time mindlessly. Neither of us had really begun to process Trevor's death yet. He was gone, but for all the way we were acting, he might have just been out of town. I gave him a smile as I opened the door to the lot. I was unsure about most of what I was doing, but not Ian. What had happened between us in the office was more than just following our instincts - it was what was supposed to happen. I felt that certainty I so rarely had and knew it was true.
Out on the lot, Kevin was going through a pile of scrap beside the van. When he heard the door to the garage he looked up and gave me a sour look. He didn't really have a different look, but it was sour all the same. I was sure someone would have told him the results of the meeting we'd had inside, but I was still dreading this confrontation. If he was still here and still working, that was a good sign. There was no part of me that thought his reaction to a woman leading his motorcycle club would be positive though.
I stepped up beside the pile of scrap and kicked at a couple of pieces. "We're going to need something better than small patches," I told him. "The van needs to look like new."
He looked up at me with a face like a cat's ass. I'd expected sour, but he looked positively acidic. Then the strangest thing happened. He let go of the sour face and shook his head. A moment later he was smiling at me - actually smiling!
"Well, there's nothing here that's gonna get that done," he said. "Can't just fix this into looking like new, we're going to need a whole new panel."
"Any idea where we can get one?"
He scratched his shaggy beard for a moment, pretending to think about it. I could tell he already had an answer in mind. "Yeah, I think I know a guy who can help us out."
I was completely unprepared for him being helpful and positive about the situation. Maybe I'd read him completely wrong, but mostly I was just confused.
"Well, alright then. Thanks." I turned to go back into the garage, but he stopped me.
"Tina," he said, "Listen, don't let those fuckers get you down. You've got this, alright?"
I just nodded at him, too shocked by his complement to respond in any other way. From around the back of the van I saw Needles standing there, silent as ever. He was wiping his hands with a rag and from his expression he seemed to agree with what Kevin was saying. I'd never expected to have the kind of support I now had within the club. Maybe they all just hated Nitty so much that having him gone brightened everyone's day. Or maybe they believed in me more than I believed in myself.
I went back inside and found Ian just as I'd left him, but his eyes were closed and he was snoring softly. That hadn't taken long. I went over to the couch and grabbed the remote, turning the show he'd barely started watching off. I didn't quite know what to do with myself at that point. Ian needed his rest and the other Wind Riders were all off completing the missions I'd set for them. I had been so pumped for action for hours on end that I suddenly felt very tired without one more thing pushing me forward. I looked down at the empty spot on the couch beside Ian but thought better of it. I had my own bed to get home to, and besides that I needed a shower.
I bent over him and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek that made him stir in his sleep slightly. I smiled down at the man who had done so much to change my fortunes in such a short time and turned to get back outside. I felt around in my pocket for the keys to my new ride and stepped out the door.
I gave Nitty a shout across the lot as I went to the bike. "If anybody needs me, just call me, alright?" He nodded and went back to his one-sided argument with Needles about the van.
The third time I got onto the bike that day, it was already starting to feel like my own ride. Even before this morning, I'd ridden it plenty of times. Trevor wasn't the best rider in the world, but he was a good teacher when it came to motorcycles. I'd never really thought about getting one my own. I had known that my place was behind the wheel of a car or on the back of the bike behind Trevor. That time seemed a long way off, even then. So much had changed in so little time that I already felt like a new person. I twisted the handle and slowly rode off the lot towards home.
I got a few looks as I rode down the street that led to the apartment I'd shared with Trevor. Mostly from young guys who couldn't help but stare at the cute girl on the beautiful, shining motorcycle. I grinned as I went, knowing that I was finally looking on the outside the way I'd always felt on the inside. I was more than just an old lady. I was meant to be leading the pack. Even alone on the bike, I knew that was the identity I was forging for myself. Ahead of me a stoplight turned red and I pulled up next to an SUV. I glanced inside and saw a mother and her two kids comfortably heading to soccer practice or home from school or something. She looked tired. Even with the windows closed, I could hear the kids yelling and calling each other names. Her son was a bit older - maybe 12 - and was kicking the dashboard in front of him. Her daughter, sitting in the back, was probably about 8. She had pigtails even. All of the sudden her attention shifted from her brother towards me beside them on my bike. The look of shock on her face was priceless. I gave her a wide smile as the light turned green and I roared away, out of her life.
Heading home was strange. When I'd left the apartment with Trevor that morning, things were very different. We'd been fighting all morning, mostly about whether I should come with him to the desert. To tell the truth, I'd rather have just stayed in bed, but he was insistent. I guess that was a pretty fateful decision on his part. As I parked the bike and headed up the stairs to the apartment, I thought about what would have happened if I hadn't ridden out with him that morning. They'd probably all be dead in the desert. Trevor, Ian, Needles and even Nitty. Would anyone from the club have bothered to call me to tell me the news? It seemed more likely that they all would have scattered instead. I'd never hear from one of the Wind Riders again and I'd spend my days wondering what happened. The thought was chilling. Ever since the meeting in the clubhouse, I'd felt like I was finally in control of my own destiny. If I'd stayed in bed, I would have been lost and alone and completely without an anchor. There had been a heavy price for my freedom, but I couldn't help but prefer it the way things were.
Our apartment was pretty bare. A few old vintage photos of motorcycles in frames decorated the walls - a gift Trevor got from his parents back when they thought this was all just a harmless phase. The furniture we had wasn't in much better shape than the couches back at the clubhouse, but at least here it was quiet and familiar. I left a trail of clothing through the apartment leading to the bathroom. The thought of falling into bed was tempting, but I needed a shower more than anything.
The old pipes in the shower sputtered to life as I turned the handle, spraying out a tepid blast of water. I gave myself a look over in the mirror before I stepped inside. My skin was reddened, both from the sun that had been beating down on me for most of the day and from the wind I was so unused to feeling on my cheeks. I ran a hand through my hair and could feel the small particles of sand that clung to my scalp. I looked like I'd spent the morning breaking rocks on the side of a road as part of a chain gang. I was exhausted and my face showed it. Rather than stare at the small imperfections I could always find an endless number of, I jumped in t
he shower, eager to feel clean and soft once more.
The water was warm and it didn't take long for the stress of the day to vanish from my tense muscles under the beating pressure of the shower. I put my head under the spray and allowed myself to soak in the comforting feeling for a long moment. Being back in the apartment should have felt familiar and maybe even nostalgic. I figured that I'd probably even feel sad. After all, the man of my life, the man I'd shared this apartment with, had been killed less than six hours earlier. I should have been devastated, but I couldn't find it in myself to feel that bad.
I don't want you to think that I'm evil or something like that. I didn't want him to die. I just realize that moving on with your life doesn't have to be a process that takes months or years. He and I had lived together and dated for three months. Even to someone in their early 20s, three months is nothing. I caught myself trying to think about how well I'd actually known him. I knew his favorite food... but did I know his second? Did he have a dog when he was a kid? What was his mom's maiden name? The excitement of dating a rebel like him had stunted the real growth of our relationship. He wasn't interested in anything but his image, and, to be honest, neither was I. I didn't care about his parents or his dog or any of that. All I cared about was the man he claimed to be. When it turned out that even that was just an illusion, there wasn't much left to mourn for.
I quickly cleaned myself down in the shower. I would have taken my time with it, but I knew I wouldn't be able to keep my eyes open forever. It was still late afternoon, but the body has a way of telling you when you need a bit of sleep. Ian had known it, and now I knew it too. I thought of the way I'd left him there, snoring sweetly on the couch. Then I thought of what we'd done just before that. It was shocking to me even then that we'd allowed our passions to run away quite so much as all that. Trevor was laying somewhere out in the desert, and here we were - his girlfriend and his best friend - fucking like rabbits on the desk that used to be his. Try as I might, I couldn't make myself feel bad for what we'd done. If he wasn't dead, it might have happened anyway. If I'd known just how incredible Ian was a week earlier, I don't think I could have stopped myself. Trevor died believing that his girlfriend was faithful and his best friend had only his interests at heart. That has to count for something, right?
Wind Riding Page 3
