Wind Riding

by Angelica Siren

  I kept my head back and shouted at the sky, begging for Ian to take me and let me feel him in the way only a woman can. I ran my hands across my own body, squeezing my breasts and pinching my nipples into hard nubs. I shook with every impact, and it only spurred me towards ever more frantic motions.

  "Fuck!" I screamed, "Oh fuck, your cock is so big! Fuck me hard, Ian! Fuck me!"

  My shouts of passion pushed him to even wilder feats of strength. Beneath his powerful hands I felt like I was weightless. Even though I was riding atop him, his controlled my every movement, lifting me and pressing me down around him wherever he wanted me. Suddenly I felt my body rippling with powerful feelings and without any warning, they exploded through my lips. I squeezed my breasts tightly as I came, howling at the moon all the while. My body convulsed and shook with the pure joy of climax, guided in every moment by his strength and his tenderness.

  The way I had found my ultimate pleasure was too much for him and I felt the way his pounding up into me changed to be more frantic and more forceful. I held myself against him and squeezed his shaft, feeling the slippery wetness of each of us flowing around him as he exploded inside of me. He groaned and held my hips so tightly I thought he might actually hurt me, but then relaxed his grip and allowed himself to finish in a gentle wave of pleasure that soon engulfed us both.

  I collapsed on top of him, our breathing once again matching one another. I kissed him again and again, his lips wet with his own saliva and mine. He held my body down against his own, ensuring that I felt nothing but the connection between us and the intense feelings of safety and freedom that only Ian could create inside me. When I was with him, I felt like I could do anything and be anyone. When it came down to it though, what I wanted most was to be his.

  We allowed ourselves a few more minutes of each other's tender embrace before our pressing duties back in the real world came to mind. I wanted nothing more than to lay there with him all night and all morning - to simply leave the Wind Riders to their own devices and let them make their own decisions. It was too late for that now, though. I had a duty to protect them, and I wasn't going to allow myself to let that promise slide. The club needed me - it needed both of us - and there was nothing we could do but answer the call.

  ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼

  When Ian and I got back to the garage, everyone else was assembled. We could hear them shouting and laughing, even from the parking lot. Once we were parked, the seven bikes of the Wind Riders looked beautiful all sitting in a row. I could only hope that we'd all be able to come together as a group as well as our bikes did. My faith in the abilities of my crew was rising to unprecedented levels, but the challenge before us would be more than any of us had ever faced down. It was time to show that we had what it took to be a real motorcycle club.

  I led Ian inside with a smile. The last time we'd come through that door into a room wherever everyone was assembled, we had our game faces on. This time, things were more relaxed. I can't stress enough the importance of being relaxed before something like this. If everybody's tense, then they're unpredictable. The only way to see a plan through to completion is when you can rely on your crew.

  As soon as they saw me, a cheer went up from the crowd. I was glad to see it. My doubts about whether I'd be accepted as the new president of the club were waning if not completely evaporated by this point. Jake, Hector and Needles were sitting on the couch while Lewis, Cyrano and Kevin stood together near the garage. I had a feeling they'd been discussing the relative frustrations they'd suffered in the different jobs I'd set for them.

  "So," I asked Jake, "How'd it go?"

  The room got somber quick. "It was fine," he said. "Trevor was right where Needles said he'd be. There was no sign of those fake cartel guys around and we got everything tidied up."

  "Good," I said. "When this is all over, show me where you buried him. We'll do a thing. Say our last respects, you know?"

  Jake nodded. Lewis stepped forward next. "The van is all ready, prez. Want to see it?"

  "Hell yeah, let's see what you guys managed to pull together."

  They all piled into the garage ahead of me. Only when they split down the middle was I able to get a clear view of the van that had so recently looked like a bullet-shredded wreck on wheels. The work was masterful. I wouldn't even think it was the same van myself, if I didn't know otherwise. The panel had been replaced and the rusted grey exterior had been painted white. On the side, a logo read "Christina's Floral Delivery." Next to a bouquet of flowers there was a caricature of me wearing a delivery jumpsuit with a wide, cartoonish smile. I started laughing and couldn't stop until Kevin put his arm around me.

  "You like it?" he asked.

  I wiped a tear from my eye and smiled. "Yes," I told him, "Yes, that's fantastic. Thanks guys."

  "Whoa!" Cyrano shouted suddenly. "Tina, are you wearing a sword?"

  I had forgotten about it. To tell the truth I had forgotten about everything we'd picked up from Ian's old homestead until that moment. I remembered where I was and what I was doing in time to have six bikers rush around me to get a closer look.

  "Oh, yeah," I said, drawing the blade out so they could inspect it. "Just a little showpiece. I thought it would look cool when we went in."

  "I hope you brought more than a fucking sword," Kevin said. Ian pushed forward carrying the canvas bag and opened it up on the workbench. Someone handed me the sword back blindly as all attention became focused on the real hardware.

  "It should all be in working order," Ian told them, "But we'd better check everything to be sure."

  "Once everyone's got their fill of new toys, meet me back in the clubhouse and we can go over the plan," I told them, sheathing the sword back on my belt. I got a grunting response from most of them as they tore through the bag looking for something impressive and deadly to call their own.

  Eventually they all filed into the clubhouse. I was sitting on the edge of one of the tables and let them take all the comfortable seats before I started laying out the details of what I had planned.

  "Okay," I said, "Thanks to Lewis and Cyrano, we know they're all in the Ninukab place down on Cedar. I know that place. We've all driven past it a thousand times I'm sure. It's got a nice big bay door and, as far as I know, only the one exit at the front. That's great for defending and real bad for escaping. So we just need to make sure we've got enough offense, got it?"

  That got a lot of excited shouts from around the room. Everyone was handling their new guns except for Needles who was polishing his old favorite. I hoped they'd be as effective at dealing out vengeance as they were at making these guys excited. Hell, if they were half as effective, we'd have a good morning for sure.

  "We can't bring any of the bikes," I told them. "I know it seems almost criminal to go in without them, but this is about more than just being a motorcycle gang. This is about doing things right."

  That got further agreement from around the room. A motorcycle leaves you exposed and definitely marks you for what you are. Nobody would believe a flower delivery van being followed by guys on bikes was what it said on the side.

  "Cyrano?" I said, looking in his direction. He looked at me like I was ready to dispense wisdom from the mountain. "I want you driving the van. Lewis, you'll get shotgun - literally. You're going to have to lay down some covering fire as soon as we get in there to distract them while we pile out."

  Lewis looked a little green around the gills but nodded. Handling a shotgun was probably pretty far from what he'd learned to do at the university, but I knew he'd be able to make it count.

  "Needles, Ian, Jake, Hector and myself will be in the back. I want Needles out first covering us with that big fucking gun with Ian right behind him. The rest of us will come in next and pick up the pieces. The plan is simple. We ram that van in as hard as we can and come out shooting. Find some good cover and take them down as they come at us."

  I looked at the clock. It was almost 4 am already. "We're going to head out i
n just a few minutes, so everybody make sure your shit works and you don't need to take a piss on the way, because we're not stopping."

  "Right away?" Hector asked. Everyone seemed to share his apprehension about the urgency of our mission.

  "It has to be right away," I told him, "That warehouse is pretty far from anything, but there will still be traffic around it in the morning. If we're going to get in, get the money and get out, we've got to give ourselves enough time before someone calls the cops. That reminds me - Cyrano, as soon as everybody's out I want you turning that van around and getting ready to floor it on out of there. There's going to be less time than you even think before we have to be back on the road."

  Ian stood forward clutching the automatic he'd reserved from the bag. "Alright guys," he said, "Get your shit and get in the van - we've got to move."

  Around me there was a flurry of activity. Everyone was ducking in and out of bags, looking for lucky charms or whatever else they thought would pull this plan off successfully. Ian stepped towards me and reached behind his back. He presented me with a small, light handgun.

  "Here, I saved this one for you," he said. "Should have a lot less recoil than Trevor's."

  "Thanks," I told him, shoving it in my belt behind my back.

  As everyone got into the van in their designated spots, Kevin came up behind me.

  "I hope you know what you're doing, girl," he said. "I hope you won't mind that I'm going to lay low at home while this shit is going down. You get out of there alive, give me a call. If I don't hear from you... well, let's just hope that doesn't happen."

  I put my arms around him and gave him a tight hug. A few of the other members saw it and reacted with surprise. They had never seen the softer side of Kevin that I had over the past day. To me he was becoming more like a father figure than just an old grouch who fixed the bikes. I gave him a nod and headed to find my place in the van.

  I was riding next to Ian and across from Jake. Jake looked nervous, but I knew he'd be capable when the time came. Ian was predictably cool. He might not have been in as many fights as somebody like Needles, but he kept his head in every situation I'd ever seen him in. Needles was done polishing his gun now, and had it sitting across his lap. He stared hard out the rear window of the van as we drove. Hector had his eyes closed and I thought I could hear him whispering a prayer under his breath.

  We approached the warehouse at half past four in the morning. It was what passed for winter in the desert, and the sun hadn't yet begun to crest over the horizon. The street outside was still and dark. For blocks around us there were just more industrial buildings full of papers and machinery that wouldn't be able to call the cops on us. I liked the place already.

  There were lights on inside the warehouse though, a good sign. Outside, a few cars were parked, along with the long black one that I recognized from the desert. This was definitely the right warehouse. I leaned forward to give Cyrano his last order.

  "Simple enough," I told him, "Just ram that door and knock the fucker off the hinges. I can see how old that thing is from here."

  "Got it, boss," he said. I sat back on the side of the van and clutched the hilt of the sword in my hand, while feeling for the grip of the pistol with the other.

  "Hang on," Cyrano said calmly. The way he spoke was so without urgency that it took a moment for us to realize that this time it was more than just a figure of speech. Everyone clutched hard on the inside of the van, bracing for the impact as he hit the gas.

  The van collided with the large metal door in a shower of sparks and a grinding noise that I could have believed was machinery from hell or something. I almost wished I'd worn earplugs or something. The screeching continued for longer than I thought possible as we plowed into the warehouse blind. The door hung off the front of the van, completely obscuring Cyrano's vision. I could only hope we weren't about to drive into a load bearing beam that would bring the whole place down on us.

  When we got maybe thirty feet inside the building, Cyrano hit the brakes hard and the door went flying. Everything happened all at once, then. I couldn't believe what we were doing, but there was no turning back now. Lewis kicked open his door and fired a blast with his shotgun before he even stepped out. Needles and Ian rushed through the back door and I saw a flash as the muzzle on Needles' gun immediately erupted into fire. Ian went into a roll and landed behind some boxes, before he brought out his automatic and starting putting shots into the air.

  Jake and I were the next ones out with Hector right behind us. Jake rushed out near to where Ian was firing and tried to find some cover of his own. Hector followed him just as I knew he would. Those two would keep each other safe, I was sure. I stayed low near the rear of the van. My one miracle shot that morning notwithstanding, I knew I still had the worst aim of the whole crew. As soon as Hector jumped out of the van, it pulled away from us.

  With my view no longer obscured by the van, I saw what we were up against. Sitting at a table less than fifty feet away had been a trio of guys I half-recognized from the desert. Two of them had kicked over the table and were now using it for cover. One of them was lying motionless on the ground, a victim of Needles' indiscriminate firepower.

  To the other side of the room, two guys I didn't recognize were struggling to recover from a long-range shotgun blast that Lewis had delivered. I leveled my gun at them but didn't even have a chance to fire as Lewis loaded another shell and took them both off their feet in a spray of shrapnel and blood. I ducked behind a large wooden crate before I could see the aftermath of his blast.

  "Jake!" I shouted at him, "Get around the side and draw out those table jockeys!"

  Needles was still standing still filling the air with flying pieces of metal. A guy like him didn't fight from cover. With that gun of his, as long as he didn't run out of ammo, nobody would dare stand in front of him. Ian was working to get a clean shot through the cover of the guys behind the table. I saw Jake nod to Hector as he tried to move around the front of the room to get a clear shot at them.

  Suddenly I saw three more of them moving in from the far side of the room. I leveled my pistol at them and fired, but to no effect. With all the sound of gunfire in the air, they didn't even hear the shot enough to be distracted. Behind me, the van wheeled around and I saw Lewis running to catch up with it as Cyrano repositioned himself for our escape.

  Needles kept his gun leveled at the guys behind the table. We needed him to take out those three new guys, but if he let up for an instant he'd be shredded by the two with cover. Suddenly I saw them turn and stand. Jake had rounded the corner and started firing in their direction. I saw one of them drop down clutching his leg. Ian got the other one when he stood. It was a clean shot to the head and he dropped like a stone. Needles angled his fire upwards and along with Hector began laying bullets into the area where the other three had come running from.

  I heard it before I ever saw it. Ian screamed and dropped his gun, falling onto his side on the floor. I turned to look and saw that another guy had appeared behind us. He was rushing toward Ian, his gun still smoking from the shot. I spun around and pulled the trigger on my pistol again and again. It couldn't happen twice. I couldn't lose Trevor and Ian the same way in less than 24 hours.

  He never even saw me. Again and again the barrel of my pistol shook as I fired into him. Some of the shots went wide but others hit their mark, taking him in the chest and knocking him off his feet as he ran. I stood and gripped the pistol in both hands, firing again and again until it clicked and made no more noise at all.

  "Tina!" I heard the cry from across the room. I turned to look and saw that the one remaining member of the three who had come in together was taking aim at me. I didn't have time to react. My gun was empty and there was nowhere to go. At the last moment, a dark shape threw itself between us as his gun burst forth. Jake hit the floor in a pile. In the next second, Hector and Needles tore into the last man standing and he dropped to the ground. Hector and I rushed over, but it w
as too late. Jake had taken the bullet in the heart and he was already gone.

  I ran to Ian, but he waved me off, letting me know that he was still alive. The warehouse dropped back into silence, except for Cyrano screaming at us from the van.

  "The money, Tina!" Ian shouted at me. In all the confusion I'd almost forgotten why we'd come. I ran across the room to the table where the three of them had been sitting. Sure enough, the metal case Trevor had brought to the desert was sitting there beneath one of their chair. I didn't have time to count it now, so I simply grabbed it and bolted back to Ian.

  Needles and Hector lifted Jake's body and carried him towards the van. I helped Ian to his feet and carried him as best I could. He'd taken a bullet in his leg and couldn't walk on it. I carried the case in my free arm and we struggled to our getaway vehicle. I got Ian inside first before helping them to bring Jake in as well. From the front seat I heard Cyrano and Lewis repeating a chorus of "Oh shit, shit, shit."

  As soon as the doors were closed, I yelled "Drive, Cyrano!" and we were off. The whole thing had taken less than two minutes. The cost had been more than I'd hoped, but we got what we came for. I could only hope that Jake would say the same.

  ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼

  The seven of us stood around the small mound of dirt in silence. We'd come out here to the desert to put two of our brothers to rest. Trevor had been a shit leader and a shit boyfriend, but he was the one who forged the Wind Riders from nothing more than a clever idea and a fascination with motorcycles. Jake had been an idealist who wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of his life fighting the good fight. In the end, they both got what they wanted. Trevor's death had been the catalyst that turned his club from a group of rejects into one of the most influential motorcycle clubs in Phoenix. Jake had died to save me. I hadn't even known him that well, but I suppose that's the point. He wanted to go out living by his values and he had. He made the ultimate sacrifice for his club and his leader, despite any misgivings he might have had about either.