Rip's Baby: Hounds of Hades MC

by Nicole Fox

  Of course, the Hounds of Hades were hoping to get Greyhound Custom Motorcycles into their own hands, as a front for some of our more illicit operations, so eventually, she was going to need to realize she had to find another place for herself. Based on the designs that I had seen from her, though, that wasn't going to be a problem, and that was part of why I was hoping we did end up using her design for J.T.'s bike. Give her a little taste of success like that, and I was sure it would only be a matter of time before she was dreaming of working for some bigger company.

  “What's up with you and your dad?” I finally asked bluntly.

  Jessi startled a little and looked sheepishly over at me. “We just had a little disagreement, that's all,” she said, sighing softly. “He treats me like a child—he doesn't seem to realize that I've grown up.”

  “He still won't look at any of your designs?” I guessed.

  “It goes beyond that,” she told me. “The other night, he blew up at me for coming in at ten, and he's now set a curfew of 8 pm every night. I'm working so hard at school every day, and then he still wants me to come home and work for at least an hour every evening. I feel like all I'm doing at the moment is working on one thing or another, and I'm tired of it. I was having fun and making some friends, but now I don't even get to see them. I just wish-” She broke off shaking her head. “Sorry, I know this probably all sounds really dumb.”

  “It's okay,” I smiled gently over at her. “I get that. I mean, not totally, because my parents never cared less when I came home or anything like that, but ...”

  She snorted out a laugh. “And that's how you became this big, bad biker dude?”

  I laughed as well. “Not really,” I told her. “I've just always been into bikes. I think I got my first book about designing bikes when I was, like, seven. And I was drawing all sorts of different bikes by the time I was ten. Not drawing them well, mind you.”

  Jessi giggled. “Yeah, I was the same way, but that's mostly because I grew up around my dad's shop. I just always figured I'd be going into the business after him—I never really even considered that I had other options.” She sighed. “If only I could get Dad to see that, though. He wants me to do something else, and I just...”

  “He wants you to be happy, I'm sure,” I said, shrugging a little. “That's all dads ever want for their daughters.”

  “You would know?” Jessi asked, looking curious.

  “I have a niece, Amanda. She's eight, and even though she isn't mine, I still want the world for her. Of course, if she wanted to go into automotive engineering, I'd be pretty thrilled about it, but I can also see where your dad is coming from. It's traditionally a man's field, and you could face some harassment or discrimination if you went into a bigger company. He knows that, and he just wants to keep you safe.”

  She shook her head. “Yeah, he already thinks that one of my professors, Gary Ellsmith, is only being helpful to me because he wants to sleep with me.”

  I gave her a strange look. “Gary Ellsmith? As in, the Gary Ellsmith?”

  “Yeah, the Gary Ellsmith. Like I said, he's one of my professors, and he's just been so great to me. I go in to his office hours a lot, and he brought me out for drinks with some guys from the department a couple times as well. He's working with a contact that he has in Cleveland, and thinks he can get me an internship there in the fall, just for a couple weeks. But how cool would that be?”

  I coughed lightly. “I mean, I don't know what kind of relationship the two of you have, but … Gary Ellsmith has a pretty bad reputation,” I said carefully. I didn't want Jessi to be offended or to accuse me of taking her dad's side on this, but she seemed a bit naïve and I just wanted to make sure she knew what she was getting herself into.

  “What do you mean?” she asked. “You mean amongst Hounds of Hades or something like that? I know he loves bikes and has a pretty slick ride, but I really can't picture him as a biker gang member. What kind of illegal stuff does he do?”

  “It's not that kind of reputation,” I told her. “Just … It's pretty well-known that he sleeps around with a bunch of people. A bunch of students. I'm surprised you haven't heard rumors about that around campus yet, but it could be that everyone already thinks you're sleeping with him.”

  I could see Jessi getting angry from the way she clenched her hands into fists and the way her face tightened around the edges. “Gary just thinks I have a lot of potential, that's all,” she told me. “It's all been strictly professional between us. How do you know that about him anyway? You're not a student.”

  “It's pretty common knowledge around the biker community,” I said. “I've seen him around at a few rides, and he boasts about all of his conquests pretty openly.”

  “That doesn't sound like the Gary that I know,” Jessi said, her eyes narrowing as though she thought I was making it up.

  “Okay,” I told her, shrugging. I wasn't about to fight her on that. “I just wanted to make sure that you knew about his reputation, just in case.”

  The rest of our ride was silent.

  Chapter Twelve

  Jessi

  I stared down at the text I had just received, feeling torn. It was a message from Gary, asking me to swing by his office if I was still around campus for the day. He said there was something about my latest project that he wanted to discuss with me—some question that he'd had while grading it. I hoped he didn't think that I had plagiarized it or anything. I had worked my ass off on that project, which was actually the design for J.T.'s bike (not that my dad would ever accept it as such), working practically around the clock on it, with a little bit of Rip's advice.

  Normally, it wouldn't have been a problem to swing by Gary's office, but I was just coming out of a long study session at the library, and I was already going to be cutting it close on my curfew that night. I was still so frustrated to have a curfew, but after a couple weeks, I was getting pretty used to it. It was still upsetting not to be able to go out for drinks with anyone, but I was getting used to that as well.

  “Shit,” I muttered under my breath, making my way towards Gary's office. If he did suspect plagiarism on my latest project, it would be better to talk to him about it now, rather than putting him off and leaving him wondering about it all weekend. I'd just have to make it quick.

  “What's up?” I asked Gary as I entered his office.

  He smiled at me. “Hey, Jess,” he said. “Have a seat. I just need to finish up this email really quickly.”

  “Okay,” I said, shrugging a little as I dropped into the seat.

  “So this project,” Gary finally said, turning his attention back to me.

  “I didn't plagiarize it, if that's what you're wondering,” I told him quickly.

  Gary laughed and shook his head. “I wasn't going to accuse you of that,” he said. “I know you're pretty brilliant. I'm just surprised at how brilliant this project is, and at the fact that you didn't show me any of it while you were working on it, so I don't know how you seem to have ironed out all of the potential design flaws.”

  “I had a little help from a friend,” I admitted. “He's not an automotive engineer or anything, but he built his own bike and he knows a thing or two about design.”

  “Boyfriend?” Gary asked sharply.

  “Oh, no,” I said, shaking my head. “He's a member of the Hounds of Hades, actually, but he's been helping out around my dad's shop since I've been tied up in school lately. We're a bit slammed with projects at the moment since everyone's taking their bikes out for the summer, now that the weather's nicer. I don't think my dad could keep up with things without him.”

  “Is that why I haven't been seeing you around as much lately too?” Gary asked. “Your dad is driving you into the ground with work?”

  I laughed a little. “Something like that,” I admitted. “He's even given me a curfew—I have to be in the house or the shop by eight every night!”

  “That must be driving you crazy,” Gary said, shaking his head. “I mean
, I know you love the shop and all, but sometimes you need to take a break from bikes and get a little human interaction into your life.”

  “I know,” I groaned. “Trust me, I know. I'm designing bikes in my sleep at this point!”

  Gary shook his head, grinning ruefully. “I've been doing that for years, if I'm being honest,” he said. “Look, I know it's getting close to your curfew for the night, but I wanted to have a celebratory drink with you. Like I said, this latest project is really amazing, and it's definitely something that you deserve a drink for.”

  I sighed and looked at my watch. I needed to have left five minutes ago if I wanted to get back to Crossdale on time. Not that I thought Dad would really be that upset if I was just a little late, but I didn't want to be any later than this. “I don't have time to go out to a place tonight,” I told him. “Maybe some other time.”

  “What if I said that I have a very nice bottle of wine right here in that cabinet?” Gary asked. “Come on, it's just one drink—it would only take a couple minutes, and then you could be on your way.”

  It was a tempting offer, partially because I was still flattered by his admiration of my project. I could feel myself caving. I had made curfew every night for a couple weeks, and I'd pulled a couple late nights lately, working for longer than the mandated hour after classes. Surely I deserved to have one night off …

  “Fine,” I told him. “But just one drink!”

  We moved over to the short couch at the side of the office, and Gary popped the cork and poured us each a glass of wine. “I know you're pressed for time, but let's let it breath for a minute, okay?” he told me, and I laughed.

  “Okay,” I agreed, then paused. “So you really thought my project was that good?”

  “You should think seriously about submitting that one to a design competition,” Gary said. “I'm sure you could get yourself some sort of scholarship for the fall semester based on your design talent, and then maybe you wouldn't have to work quite so many hours around your dad's shop!”

  “Wouldn't that be the life,” I muttered. “I mean, I know we're busy right now, but with Rip there helping him out part time and me helping him out part time, we should be doing fine, right? But now this bike for J.T. is due in just over a month, and we haven't even started building it yet because my dad can't put together a design that pleases J.T., and he's still refusing to even look at my designs. I wanted to have Rip show my design to J.T., but I also don't really want to cross my dad in that way.”

  “Do you have a design for J.T.'s bike already worked out?” Gary asked.

  “That's actually what this project was,” I admitted. “I kind of put it together thinking that maybe if I could get it really finished and polished—and maybe if I got your feedback on it—then I could take that to my dad and get him to finally realize that I'm not just some dumb kid doodling impossible choppers during class.”

  “You're definitely not that,” Gary said warmly. He reached over and lightly squeezed my leg. “I'm sure he'll be excited to see this design. I know I was.”

  I smiled over at Gary, glad that he understood me so well.

  Gary leaned forward and picked up his wine glass, handing me mine as well. “To your designs,” he said, clinking his glass against mine.

  I grinned and took a sip of my wine, surprised at the rich taste of it. “That's a very nice bottle of wine,” I said to Gary.

  “Yeah, some guy gave it to me at that seminar that I went to last week,” Gary told me. “I've been waiting for the right company to crack it with.” He winked at me. “I thought maybe this might convince you to start considering what other options you have in the design field. Good wine is definitely a perk, right?” He reached over and squeezed my leg again, leaving his hand resting there, and I didn't push it away.

  Instead, I laughed and shook my head, taking another sip of my wine. “So tell me about this conference,” I said.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Gary

  As I'd expected, it was easy enough to convince Jessi to stay for a second glass of wine—and a third. From previous outings with her, I knew that she didn't really drink much, and I could see that she was on the verge of getting drunk by the time we were halfway through the bottle. She seemed to have forgotten about the fact that she was supposed to be home for her curfew over an hour ago.

  And she didn't seem to mind that I kept finding any excuse to touch her, reaching out to brush back her hair or trailing my fingers along the back of her neck. Her soft body was a warm line against mine at this point. I had her drawn close into my side, an arm slung around her shoulders as I listened to her tell me about the design process for her latest project.

  “You should read this book,” I said suddenly, getting up to find this theoretical design book on the shelves. “I've been trying all night to remember which book it was in—this design that's similar in some ways to yours. I think yours is a bit better, of course, but I think where this guy takes things will be interesting to you.”

  Jessi stood up as well, and I was pleased to see how she wobbled a little before she found her balance. Definitely a bit drunk, then. “Okay,” she said, accepting the book, and I watched as her hands stroked the cover. I could only imagine them stroking certain other things as well. I'd been half-hard for most of the night, and this got me a little more heated.

  I grinned at her and moved around to my computer. “I've also got this great little piece of software, Design Haven. It's really great for helping you digitize your designs so that you can tweak them with a little more finesse. Here, look.”

  She came around, but there wasn't much room behind the desk because of the way the office was designed, and given her current state of inebriation, she ended up tripping on the leg of my desk chair and falling into my lap. At the feel of her warm buttocks pressed against my clothed erection, I couldn't help but rock my hips up into her.

  She stiffened a little and began to move away, but I held her there with my arms around her. “No, just take a look at this for a minute,” I told her, leaning forward so that I could reach the mouse and navigate through one of the designs I'd been working on in the program. “Look, you can do all sorts of things to it—change the colors, add some chrome here, move this pipe over to there. Anything you could want. It's a ton of fun just to fool around with. I've made a bunch of totally theoretical designs using it.”

  Jess hummed to show that she was listening, but she was straining to get away from me. I guessed we were playing a bit of a cat and mouse game, then. It wasn't surprising, given how inexperienced she was. I wondered for a moment whether she'd ever even had anyone else, or if it was possible that she was still a virgin. And didn't that turn me on.

  Finally, I let her go, but she didn't go far—just to the other side of the desk. There she paused and looked back at me. “I should get home,” she said, pulling her keys out of her pocket. There was something strange in her expression, like some sort of realization. For a minute, I thought she was actually about to start crying.

  “Don't be stupid,” I said, standing up and coming around the desk as well. I took the keys out of her hand. “You're not driving home like this.”

  “I want to leave,” she said. “I've already missed my curfew, and I'm ...” She trailed off, blushing. “Give me my keys back, Gary.”

  “You're too drunk to drive,” I argued with her. “Just look at yourself. There's no way I'm letting you drive home like this. Look, why don't I give you a ride?”

  “You've been drinking too,” she pointed out.

  “My tolerance is a lot higher than yours,” I told her. “Trust me, I'm fine to drive.”

  She paused, biting her lower lip, and I couldn't keep myself from leaning in and kissing her, tugging that lower lip into my mouth and sucking lightly at it. My jeans were getting to be way too tight, and I reached down to open my fly, letting my straining bulge free and pushing it up against Jessi's warm skin where her skirt was riding up. I kept one arm tightly wr
apped around her, continuing to ravish her mouth, and slid my other hand up under her shirt.

  Jessi continued to wriggle against me, trying desperately to pull away. I was sure she was just afraid that we might get caught. Stupid girl. Didn't she realize that I had already locked the door? No one was going to see us hhere, and we could do whatever we wanted.

  And what I wanted right then was to get her mouth down on my dick and fucking use her. I wanted to see if she was as talented with that mouth as she was with those hands. I'd force her to swallow down my cock until she was practically choking with it, and then I'd whirl her around and bend her over the desk, pushing aside her panties and fucking her with her clothes still on, leaving her helpless with desire. She had to know the kinds of things she had been doing to me over the past few weeks. Those lingering looks and those sweet little gestures like bringing takeout food to my office hours. And that dress that she'd been wearing the first night that we went for drinks…