Motorhead

by Landish, Lauren

  I flush, catching the nickname that irks me, but I’m still embarrassed. I didn’t come, but damn if I don’t want to .

  He moves a hand to the strap of my top, slowly watching as he slides it off my shoulder. I’m not wearing a bra underneath. It’s one of those clingy tops that they say doesn’t need a bra. I think he’s giving me time to say no, but that’s sure as fuck not happening .

  Or maybe he’s trying to stop himself. With that thought in mind, I arch, lifting my tits up in offering to tease him. “They’re even softer once you take them the rest of the way out .”

  He grabs me roughly around my waist, pulling me to him, and just before he touches me, he looks into my eyes. “You sure you want this? I ain’t offering anything but right now. You know that, right ?”

  I thread my fingers through his hair, pulling him to my breast. He needs this. Fuck, I need this. “Evan, quit thinking. Let’s just have an adventure .”

  Like a match to a fire, my words ignite him. With a rough jerk that I’m sure is going to ruin this top, he pulls it the rest of the way down, freeing my breasts. He licks his lips once before diving in, sucking my nipple deep into his mouth .

  His tongue twists and tugs at my stiff nub while his left hand squeezes my other breast. It’s heaven, and my head falls back as I moan my pleasure to a fiery sky. Sure, we’re on the side of the road, and if anyone does happen to come up here, they can see my goodies displayed for the whole world, but I don’t fucking care. If anything, it adds to the thrill .

  Evan runs a hand down my side to my thigh, pulling my leg up. “Put the ball of your shoe on my seat, but don’t touch the leather with that spiky heel or I’m gonna be pissed .”

  I do as he orders, feeling my skirt hike up my thigh almost to my waist as my knee nears my shoulder, exposing my panties to him. He slides a rough, calloused hand up my inner thigh, pausing to play at the lacy edge. I whimper, bucking my hips against his finger, trying to get what my body craves .

  With a snarl, he grabs the delicate fabric and rips them from my body, draping them over the handlebars of his bike with a feral smile. “Let me feel how wet your pussy is from riding with me. You never told me if you came on my bike. Did you come already ?”

  He’s running his fingers through my lips, spreading the moisture from my clit to my asshole, and I’m barely coherent. “No.” I groan, my head swimming. “But I need it .”

  “Good,” he says, bringing his fingers through my lips again. “It’s all mine then .”

  Before I can even think of a reply, he thrusts two fingers deep into my pussy without warning, immediately curling them forward to press toward my front wall as his thumb swipes across my clit .

  I cry out in pleasure, and he does it again, trapping me helplessly between what my body wants and keeping my balance. I’m a prisoner of desire and physics, unable to move as he finger fucks me hard and rough. I grab his head, pulling him back to my breasts in a desperate attempt to feel more, and he takes my nipple back into his mouth with little bites. I’m lost to the pleasure, screaming out disjointedly. “Fuck, Evan . . . yesss . . . God . . . please .”

  His lips never leave my chest as he orders me, “Come for me, Princess. All over my hand, right here on my bike. Come. Now .”

  I fall off the edge into the abyss, screaming out his name as I’m overtaken with shudders of pleasure. It’s been too long, and Evan’s playing me like a guitar, knowing just what I need to get the maximum release .

  As I come back to reality, I catch him staring at me, a smile across his face, and I feel like that smile is just as much a gift as the amazing orgasm he just gave me. Well, maybe not as good, but damn close .

  I move back, setting both feet on the ground before starting to bend down, my hands going to the button on his jeans .

  Before I can kneel, he grabs my arms. “No, you’re not getting yourself all dirty, Princess .”

  My hands not leaving his waist, I can already see the outline of his cock, feel the ridge of it of against my hand. I give him my best pouty face, which considering my plump lips and smeared makeup, is probably dripping with sex. “But what about you? Hand job ?”

  He smirks and adjusts his cock, pulling his leg back and over his cycle. “This was just about you. Get back on .”

  I look at him for a moment, disappointed I’m not getting to pleasure him but still too high from my own orgasm to question it. If a man like him wants to make me come without reciprocation . . . well, I’m not going to complain. Part of my mind knows this will take time, but it’ll be worth it .

  I reach for my panties, intending to put the ripped lace inside the stretched remains of my top, but he stops me. “Oh, no, Princess. Those are staying right there. Souvenir of our adventure and all. Get on. I’ll take you home .”

  I laugh, thinking sure, why the hell not? and climb on the back of his motorcycle, pulling my helmet on and squeezing his hips with my thighs as I scoot as close to him as I can, knowing that he can feel my already stiff nipples against his back again .

  He yells back to tell me to hang on, and we’re off again, heading back to town. Main Street is quiet by the time we get back, most of the businesses closed and everyone gone home for the night .

  He pulls up in front of the salon, shutting off the bike, and I’m shocked by the sudden eerie silence. I climb off, adjusting my skirt to cover myself, and he smirks, patting the red lace on the bars .

  A thought occurs to me. “Hey, how’d you know this is home too ?”

  I see a flash across his eyes. “I do a lot of my best work at night. Nobody’s around to fuck with me. Sometimes, I even sleep here. There’s a bed up on the second floor that I use when I don’t feel like going home. I see everyone coming and going along the street. Maybe not as much as Old Earl, but watching what’s happening around me is deeply ingrained in me. I know you barely drive your car, so I figured you must be living in an apartment above the salon .”

  I feel a warmth inside, even if it is silly. “You’ve been watching me?” He thinks I’m judging him, nervous at his surveillance, but he nods his head once. “Good. That makes me feel safe. Thanks for looking out for me. And uh, Evan? Trust me, I’m well aware that I can look directly into your garage and watch you working up a sweat. My best day this week was when you were working on that Camaro and took your shirt off. I damn near missed the timer alarm I set for a client’s highlights because I was staring out the window at you .”

  He grins, leaning against his handlebars. “You’ve been watching me ?”

  I nod, biting my lip to contain my laughter. He cups my face, leaning in for a soft kiss. It’s different from the kisses we’ve had before. There’s not fire but tenderness . . . and the thrilling promise that no matter what Evan said in that dirt parking lot, this isn’t over .

  When it’s over, he leans back, whispering into my hair. “You pervy stalker. Take a picture. It’ll last longer .”

  My laughter escapes, Evan even letting out a chortle, which I’m taking as major progress for the stoic man. “Yeah, well, you already got your trophy. I’m just gonna have to get my own sometime .”

  “We’ll see,” Evan says, giving me a kiss on the cheek. “Goodnight, Princess .”

  “Goodnight, Evan .”

  I turn, walking into the salon. He waits while I lock the door, then he pats the lacy handlebars one more time without looking at me, and I think maybe he doesn’t even know he did it, but he fires up the bike, shooting across the lanes of traffic and into the garage .

  I head upstairs to sleep, excited that he’s just mere steps away .

  Chapter 10

  Evan

  “S top the presses. What in the actual fuck is happening here ?”

  I stop work on the wiring job I’m doing on the Range Rover I’m working on as I hear TJ talking to me. I glance down my body and see his scuffed work boots standing by the rear hitch, the cause of all the problems. Fucking amateurs thought they could install a trailer hitch and wiring by
themselves. Not on a Range Rover. The Brits love making their wiring harnesses difficult .

  I roll out, giving him a questioning look. “What’s up, man? Just checking out the turn signals on this tea slurping son of a bitch .”

  TJ looks me up and down as I get to my feet, raising an eyebrow. “You have the same hair, you rode in on that same bike . . . but I’m not sure if you’re really my brother. You sick? Win the lottery? Get laid ?”

  Confused, I stare back at him. “Huh ?”

  “Well, the ‘fuck off, world’ look you normally wear is gone, I haven’t smelled you light up one of those damn Marlboros all day, and when I checked the trash, I didn’t see a single can. The coffee pot’s still full. What gives ?”

  “Nothing,” I reply, trying to growl but for some reason, just not able to find myself able to. TJ’s just trying to be cool. “It’s just one of those days .”

  TJ scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Bullshit, Evan. You were whistling. Not a song, or hell, even a tune, but you were damn sure whistling while you worked. That’s new, not just a ‘good day’. What’s up ?”

  Was I? If I was, I didn’t realize it. I was just focused on the job at hand, but now that he mentions it, my brain has been a little quieter this morning. I mean, I slept halfway decently, and when I got to work today, instead of seeming stupid or infuriating, I just found this job to be a puzzle to solve. “I dunno. Like I said, nice weather today .”

  TJ gives me a look I used to get in the Army, the one that senior sergeants would give when they knew I was full of shit but wasn’t quite going over the line yet. “Nice weather, huh? My money’s on your getting laid. Finally. It’s been forever, man. Gotta grease the pipes every once in awhile or you get rusty, Tin Man.” He laughs, then shakes his head .

  Without warning, white heat sparks in my core, singing out through my body as my fists clench. I grab his coveralls, jerking him to his tiptoes before pushing him away, pain lancing through my head. “Fuck you, TJ. I was doing all right this morning, but thanks for fucking that up .”

  He leans back, but he’s used to my outbursts and just shakes his head softly. “Bro, I was just teasing you. Chill out .”

  I sigh, still wound tightly, and turn away to snatch a cigarette, realizing he was right. I hadn’t grabbed one of these today .

  Standing in the doorway as I start to puff away, I hear TJ talking behind me. “Sorry for hitting a sore spot. I was just glad to hear the noise. In other news, I went on a date with Alice again .”

  I side-eye him, my brows furrowing together as I rack my brain but come up short. Maybe I really do need some caffeine. “Who ?”

  TJ leans against the side of the shop, upwind of me, as always, and looks across the street with me as I take a deep drag, the swimmy feeling rushing up to my brain like it always does even as the disgusting taste floods my mouth, reminding me of other smoke I’ve breathed and making me want to gag .

  “The girl I told you about, asshole. From the hotel? We went to dinner last night, had a couple of drinks, and then I dropped her back home .”

  I can’t help but egg him on a little. He’s my baby brother, after all. “That’s it? You didn’t fuck her ?”

  He growls a little bit, glaring at me. “Don’t talk about her like that. No, I didn’t. It was a damn first date, and she’s not like that. We just kissed on the little porch when I dropped her off .”

  I flashback to my date with McKayla. Well, I don’t even know if it qualifies as a date when you go for a ride and finger bang her before dropping her off curbside, but as I didn’t blow my load until later that night, I guess you can’t call it a booty call either. TJ definitely wouldn’t call that a date, but McKayla didn’t seem to mind .

  But maybe she should .

  TJ’s chick, Alice, probably liked being picked up for a proper date with a decent guy. From everything he’s told me about her, now that I think about it, she’s probably the kind of girl any guy would like. Smart, I guess cute, and TJ is obviously over the moon about her. She’s probably what a lot of guys would call ‘marriage material’. She’s the sort of girl you treat right, take her out to dinner, pick her up at her doorstep, and maybe even shave most of the time beforehand .

  McKayla should have that too. Too fucking bad that’s not me though. I’m far from decent. I shave two, maybe three times a week, and I can’t remember the last time I dressed ‘nice ’.

  I puff away as TJ tells me every little damn detail about his date, and I stare across the street into the salon in order to distract myself a little, watching McKayla tell a very animated story to a lady in her chair .

  As I’m watching, I see that weasel Jaxson pull up and park his gleaming BMW at the curb, blocking half my sightline of the salon interior. He walks in, and from far away, I hear TJ. “What’s wrong ?”

  I look over at him, fury coursing through my veins and my fingers crushing the last remnants of my cig so completely that I don’t even feel the burn of the ember as it’s snuffed against my palm. “What ?”

  TJ looks startled, holding up his hands in a placating gesture. “You’re snarling. What’s wrong? Flashback ?”

  I sigh. He can be a pain in the ass, but most of the time, he’s always there for me, and he’s tried to understand. “Nah, just saw that city council shit going in the salon .”

  TJ glances over, recognizing the car. “Jaxson? Don’t really know him, but he seemed all right when I opened up the garage. Came by, shook hands, wished me luck. It even sounded half genuine .”

  I think over my answer. Like TJ, I first met Jaxson soon after I came back to town just after my discharge, full of anger, clothed in my winter riding leathers, and barely able to sleep at night without screaming myself awake .

  He’d come by the diner along with one of the local cops on my third day back, I guess after figuring out that I wasn’t just some transient biker. The discussion had been full of veiled comments, some snide remarks about a former service member looking like I did, and the implied threat that I’d better watch my ass .

  Not that I’m going to tell TJ about that. He might try to understand, but he wouldn’t really. It’s like John Rambo said, Over there, I was in charge of million-dollar equipment. Here, I can barely hold down a job parking cars . “He’s trying to get McKayla to go out with him and he’s a slimy little shit .”

  TJ stares at me in total disbelief for a solid minute before figuring out what to say. “Yeah, she could really do worse than a stable, employed guy who wants to take her out on a date. Maybe you’d rather she go out with you? Because lord knows, you could offer her so much joy and happiness with your aura of rainbows and fucking glitter .”

  He huffs and stomps back into the office, shutting the door a little hard, but the hydraulic keeps it from slamming .

  What the hell’s wrong with him? I just said I didn’t like the guy . . . the guy who wants to date McKayla. It wasn’t like I told him every reason I hate the fucker .

  I lean back against the garage again, maintaining my study of the scene across the street. The sad part is, I know that TJ is right. McKayla deserves someone nice who’d treat her right and take her on dinner dates and carry on a conversation beyond grunts. She deserves a guy who’ll give her everything she wants and then some. Not someone haunted like me. Someone whole, who’s not half-soulless with a void filled with demons .

  I don’t have any right to inflict myself on her. I need to maintain the status quo and minimize my impact by keeping to myself. Nobody needs to know just how fucked in the head I really am, and if I don’t talk to them, they won’t know. Just stay quiet, and if it gets too bad . . . I move on. The advantage of a motorcycle and a military background is that I can pretty much go wherever I want and get along just fine with what I can fit in my saddlebags and the duffle I still have at the house. Between that and my check from the military that says I’m partially disabled, I’ll get by .

  Decision made, I dust the last crumbles of tobacco off my hands, rubbing them to
gether before scrubbing them on my jeans. I give one last glance across the street, where I take a small measure of comfort in seeing Jaxson marching out the door, rounding the front bumper of his car as he dangerously tightens his already straight tie. Denied !

  He looks up toward the garage, and I swear I can see a familiar coldness in his eyes when he sees me standing outside watching him. I’m doubtful he’s ever going to stop seeing me as the possible biker gang member who rolled into his town and is eventually going to cause trouble. He yanks open his car door to get in and then fires up the engine before pulling back into traffic, once again the perfect city council member as he accelerates at just the right speed up the street. It’s another thing I don’t like about the man. When you’re pissed, you’re allowed a half-second to gun your fucking engine if you’re in the clear. In fact, maybe that’s the real reason. Maybe there’s nothing slimy about him and he’s just too much of a goody-two-shoes .

  My eyes tick back to the salon, and McKayla and Brad are talking like nothing happened. Brad’s waving his makeup brushes around and twirling, making McKayla laugh uproariously before her eyes glance across the street and she sees me. Before she can do anything, I turn and go back inside. That wiring harness isn’t going to fix itself .

  Whatever. Maybe he just needed a cut and she couldn’t fit him in. Not my business and I don’t care .

  I keep telling myself that as I head back inside and climb back under the Range Rover .

  Chapter 11

  McKayla

  S weet moonrise over the mountains . . . it’s the perfect end to a busy week as I sit with Brad and Rose at the Grand Waterways Hotel bar and peer out over the distance .

  When Rose invited me, I’ll admit I had a snobby moment thinking a hotel bar didn’t sound all that appealing. But she insisted they have good drinks, delicious food, and the best jukebox in town. “Don’t worry, they totally revamped when the new place opened up in the mountains,” she said. “They wanted to differentiate themselves from the snow set tourists, so while it still has the luxury look, they’ve expanded the food spread a bit. No way you won’t find something you like .”