by Jax Hart
My arm gently strokes his back as he hangs his head in shame. He’s haggard and tired. I used to believe he was a giant from one of my fairytales. Pops was always larger than life. But now as I stare into eyes tired beyond their years, and I clutch his weak hand that shakes—I know I can’t let him pay for his sins.
I won’t leave him like my bitch of a mother did either. How can I turn my back on him after he risked everything to try to be a good parent to me? He might’ve raised me rough, but he raised me.
“What are we going to do about Duke?”
“You aren’t going to do anything Shanna. I mean it. Stay clear of him. I might be an old cripple, but a man’s business is a man’s business. I’ll take care of it. He said that he wants you to be his old lady instead of money, to repay the debt I owe.”
“Pops? You wouldn’t…? That’s fucking archaic!”
“No. I thought about killin’ him instead. If he thinks he’s gonna take you from me—I will. That’ll be the day the son of my nemesis takes my daughter for a bride.”
I gulp.
I might be more than willing to go, but I’ll never admit it.
No, never will.
Not even if Duke tries to break me to say the words.
My body might burn for him, but I’ll never be some man’s property. I just know he’ll expect me to say “yes” to whatever he wants. Hell no, that’s not me. I want freedom, not the chains he’ll put on me.
THE POWERFUL ENGINE throttles under me. This old bike still wields power. My eyes wait for the light to change and my boot taps on the pavement impatiently.
Fucking turn green already.
My thoughts are all over the goddamn place. What is it about that girl?
Christ, I lose all my sanity the second my eyes land on her. All I can think is MINE MINE MINE!
Fuck.
I just want to grab her already and ride off into the fucking sunset because I already know how this story is going to end—with her in my bed as I drive into her sweet body until I come so hard I pass out. Then I’m fucking putting a ring on that shit. That girl imprinted on my soul the second I found her. I just don’t have the patience to slow down and date her. It’d be much easier to seduce her into loving me.
Shit.
Maybe, I’m not a man worth loving.
The light finally changes. Picking up my foot, I ride out of town just needing the freedom of the open road and nothing but wind on my face.
It’s the closest to feeling free a man can get and almost reaches the peak of sex… almost.
I zip around the curves ignoring the double yellow lines, just needing to get this girl out of my head.
I’m in no state to marry her or anyone else. The truth is: I’m a fucking mess and I’m not lucky enough to think a girl on fire like Shanna Flynn could ever love a broken bastard like me.
But I just can’t accept that another man will feel her fire, fan her flames and combust in her. I thirst for her like a dying man thirsts for water in a desert. My phone vibrates in the back pocket of my jeans, reluctantly I pull over.
"What?" I bark.
"Get your ass back here. You were only supposed to be gone a few days."
"Shit, I know Smith. I got held up. What's up?"
"We're drowning in orders, and the MC wants a favor."
"Fuck."
"I know. I think I've put them off for a few days, but you need to haul ass back to California brother."
"Dammit, alright. I need to resolve a few things here. My head is all fucked up.”
“Christ, pull yourself together. I’ve never heard you talk like this.”
“Fuck, I know. Being back here is not what I expected. This girl—”
“Jesus, please don’t tell me—you are letting shit blow up here because of a piece of ass?”
I rub a hand across my face, “Shit. She is more than that. I’m just trying to figure out how she did it.”
“Did what?”
“Be the one.”
“Ah, fuck no. Get your ass back here.”
“Call me if shit goes sideways,” I half laugh, realizing how pathetic I must sound.
"Will do."
I tuck my phone back into my pants, turn the bike around and race back towards town. I'm running out of time. But I can't leave Oregon without getting to know her more and definitely not before making her my woman in every way a man can.
“COME ON!” My fingers angrily turn the key in the ignition, but it just clicks without turning over.
I’m exhausted. I’ve been on my feet for over eight hours, smelling like Bud Light and peanuts.
Duke didn’t grace me with his presence tonight. The barstool where he’s sat for the past few weeks remained vacant.
It taunted me.
He taunts me.
I’d be a liar if I didn’t admit turning around every time the bar door opened hoping it would be him.
The bar felt empty without his hot eyes following me. I crave his attention like a drug, and it pisses me the hell off. Especially since he made that crazy declaration at the cemetery to take me as his woman. His old lady—his bride? Hell, no. I’m not committing to a hot-head I barely know.
It’s something that would’ve been acceptable if club was still active here. Hell, I’d be his tonight without question, probably in one of the backrooms here like how it went down in the old days and my father’s debt would be paid.
But the days when the club ruled in my bar are over. As much as watching Pops’ heath fail has been hard, it made him give up his Prez patch. The men that still wanted to ride went either north or south to which ever thriving chapter they wanted to join.
My fingers curl around the handle of the door when I hear the familiar rumble of a bike pull up, the powerful engine thrums as a beast of a man gets off striding towards me.
My heart’s pounding, adrenaline courses through me and I frantically open my purse looking for my pepper spray, cursing until my sweaty fingers find it.
I look up as he passes under the lamplight—part of me relaxes but my gut senses I’m in more danger than if he was a stranger.
“Open the door, Shanna.”
I meet his gaze through the condensation on the glass.
This man is fucking dangerous.
I unlock the door, and he rips it open, holding out a hand for me to take.
“You flooded the engine every time you tried to start the car—leave it.”
I have no choice but to let him lead me to his bike. He climbs on his Harley picks up his helmet and holds it out to me. I’m tired. The night air is cold and damp, and despite the warning bells ringing in my head—I do it. I climb on and wrap my arms around his thick, muscular back.
He kicks off, speeding away into the night. My nipples harden as they press against his hard back. The ache between my thighs grows as I feel the vibration of the engine between them. It hums like a giant beast between my thighs—calling to my body; making me feel as wild as the dark night.
It’s been too long.
I forgot what this felt like. The sheer exhilaration you feel when zipping down the streets feeling the wind on your skin and tasting the freshness in the air.
The hum between my legs reminds me how long it’s been since I’ve let anyone put their hands on me. Between Dad, school, the bar—it’s been years.
He was a fumbling boy anyway, so we didn’t even go that far. But, because Mike was the first man to touch me—I got wet when he fingered me, even though he was clumsy and fast. He came in his pants the second his tongue touched my nipple. He tried to get me off, but he was sated and lazy; only half-assing it. It hurt when his nails dug into my soft flesh, so I faked my way out of it.
But there’s no doubt Duke is an animal in bed.
I’ve always been more partial to sporty men that wear ball caps and baggy jeans. But with his tatted biceps and tree trunk legs, there’s no doubt I’d feel safe in Duke’s embrace. I wonder if maybe… just for a moment… I could let my
self fall.
He pulls in the drive of my father’s house, riding right through the fog that’s rolled in. Taking his helmet off, I shake my hair loose but make no move to get off his bike. I’m revved up and horny, hoping he’ll touch me—just a little bit, just enough to take the edge off.
I half hate him.
I want him anyway.
But I’m saving my virginity for a man like Spence. I want rose petals on satin sheets at the Beverly Wilshire Hotel.
Instead of whiskey, I want champagne licked off my tits and the taste of it on my tongue as my man thrusts in. I can wait for it, but fooling around with Duke could be just what I need in the meantime.
He takes his time shutting the engine off. His head is bent, and I’m dying to know what thoughts are running through his mind. Sometimes, when I watch him, it’s as if he’s at war with himself; fighting some battle only he knows about.
My head falls; it’s on the tip of my tongue to ask him what’s wrong, when he jumps off the bike like it’s on fire.
He grabs my chin, the glint in his eyes a warning; he doesn’t play games. His mouth is on mine before I can even part my lips.
Picking me up off the bike, he hooks my legs around his waist backing me up against the garage.
His tongue is wild and rough.
He kisses like a man.
Neither of us speaks with words—we just use our hands, lips, and tongues.
The metal of his belt buckle digs into my tummy as if trying to brand my soft flesh.
It hurts. I unfasten it, unzip his fly—darting my hand inside to feel his hard length.
I don’t have much experience, but I realize I’ve made a mistake. He’s not some Bradbury boy—Duke Masters is one hell of a man, and I’m in over my head. I pull back, and unwrap my hand from the thick monster in his pants.
“What’s wrong cherry? Can’t handle a man like me?” He chuckles softly.
My back is up—I don’t like to be challenged or embarrassed. I push him off, “My father’s inside. I’d never disrespect him by bringing a man home from the bar and my name’s not cherry.”
“I know sugar. But you’re as wet and ripe as a cherry freshly plucked off a tree on an early summer morning, and I’ll bet... you taste just as sweet. Who said anything about the house? I’m gonna fuck you right here—pull you to the ground and let you feel the dew from the grass on your skin. You’re gonna look at the stars overhead as I thrust in and out—sucking on those sweet ass tits while my dick revels in the feel of you helping him glide to heaven.”
My hand cracks him right across the cheek.
I’m livid.
I’m livid because I want it.
I want to let him do it—take me like a bad girl right in my father’s front yard and let him fuck me into the breaking dawn.
It would be one hell of a way to lose my virginity.
Forget about Spence and an expensive hotel, all I need is Duke, right here and right now.
I coat my panties seeing it all: Everything he said to me in my mind and for a second—I imagine letting it happen. But I’ll never let him see how much I want him to do it. I’m intimidated by his sheer masculinity and the enigma of who he is behind his hot, dark eyes.
“You're gonna pay for that Shanna.”
He grabs the front of my tank, ripping it apart in his bare hands. He reaches around my back, ripping my bra off too. His large palms grab each breast, feeling the weight of them in his palms. As Duke’s callused hands touch me, the need to fight mixes with my desire to just get fucked by a man already—a real man like him.
I’m going to push him to his limit.
I know Duke has too much respect for my father to actually take me here in the front yard but it will be fun to see how far he takes this.
His tongue flicks across my tits, “Just like a cube of sugar, cherry. I’ve watched these tits flounce around as you tended bar these past few weeks. You’re a goddamn tease and I’m putting a stop to that shit right now.” His muscular thighs feel like steel as they press into me. He sucks on my nipples, flicking them with his tongue while telling me how he stroked himself under the bar, watching me these past few weeks.
“You’re so goddamn beautiful cherry. Did you know I dream of you? I wake up so hard—the only way I can fall back asleep is by stroking myself, thinking of doing this with you.”
He unbuttons my shorts, just enough to slip a few fingers in and I ride them without shame. “Ummm, tastes good cherry,” he says pulling his fingers out and putting them in his mouth. Then he’s back on me, kissing me wildly, while his thumb slides down my folds, finding my clit. He circles me, teases me—finger fucks me while playing with my breasts.
“You’re fucking tight,” he rasps. I’m lost in the sensations of his touch, feeling my thighs clench—I’m about to come.
“Don’t stop,” I moan as he pumps his fingers in and out, swirling my clit before diving back in.
“Good night, cherry.”
“What?”
I open my eyes confused as he pulls away, leaving me three-seconds away from having the biggest orgasm of my life.
My eyes blink in the dark. I’m disoriented as he walks away. He climbs on his ride, calling out, “I told you that I was going to make you pay. I know you’re gonna see my face when you finish yourself off baby. I’ll see you real soon.”
As he roars away into the night, I look down at the dew on my curls then notice the marks on my breast where his beard marked me while he laved my tits with his tongue.
“Holy fuck.”
What in the hell just happened?
I’m pissed. No one plays Shanna Flynn. But this man just played my body like an instrument, and damn him—if I don’t reach down and finish myself off while seeing his dark eyes and muscular body; still savoring the taste of him in my mouth and the smell of him on my skin. I cry out into the night as I come hard collapsing onto the cold, wet ground.
WHAT A FUCKING mind fuck. I didn’t think her father would let many men near her, but when I entered her with my finger—damn she was tight. I wanted her badly before, but now it’s an absolution.
But she’s not ready—not even close. I’ll play with her, touch her and tease her until she can’t take it anymore.
Shanna Flynn is fucking mine, period—done.
There’s no way that I can make it home aching, with balls begging for release. The thrum of the engine teases my dick that can’t calm down after her hot little body was on fire for mine.
I pull off to the side of the road and walk to the edge of the woods as if I have to take a leak. I unzip my fly taking my dick out. Closing my eyes—I pump into my hand, smelling her scent on my fingers.
I see her full sugary tits—rosy and pert.
I was right.
Her breasts are fucking huge, but firm and they jiggled when I grabbed her round hips. Her musky scent filled the air...
“Fuck,” I moan spewing my seed onto the grass seeing stars. But in my mind—I’m shooting off into her virgin body; marking her womb, being the first and last man to reach her fucking babymaker.
“Christ!” I shudder as the last bit of my load spurts out.
Zipping up my fly, I walk back towards the road.
I pissed her off really good tonight by leaving her like that. But that’s what she gets for fucking dressing the way she does; teasing me with her ripe, young body that was made for—fucking mine.
I need a plan to calm my baby girl down—soothe her nerves, so I can slowly teach her everything. I’m gonna drive my little kitty cat wild, while I plunge in an out of her. But it won’t be enough. Shanna’s headstrong; I need to find a way to touch her mind—not just her clit. And so far, that’s the only place she seems to care about me touching.
WITH MY COFFEE in one hand, I adjust my shoulder bag and walk to my economics class. I’m still pissed at Duke. But I slept like a frickin’ baby last night after I came on my vibrator.
Again.
He had me
so worked up; I sat in the grass and cried for a bit after he left. He knew exactly how to touch me making me wonder if it’s some sick game?
After I finally stumbled into the house, I took my vibrator into the shower and unhooked the shower head and held the jet spray on my clit while the vibrator buzzed my G-spot with its thick head.
It was so good, but I missed his mouth on my breasts and his breath in my ear whispering dirty words.
I wanted his fingers playing with my pussy and his thick cock ramming into me from behind.
Stopping, I press my thighs together. I’m tingling and wet in the middle of campus.
This needs to stop.
I need to stop thinking about sex and Duke, period. He can’t be serious about taking me to be his woman. He’s probably going to leave town as soon as he finishes handling his father’s affairs and I can’t let him take my heart with him when he rides out.
“Shanna!”
I’m ripped from my thoughts at the sight of Spence jogging towards me. He’s handsome with thick light brown hair and warm hazel eyes. He smells like expensive cologne and new money and his clothes are always perfectly pressed. I’ve never seen him not wear a button-down shirt tucked into trouser pants. He already looks the part of a successful businessman.
“Are we still on for tonight?”
“Sure. But I’ll need a ride back. My car is in the shop. It’s an hour, is that okay? I got a ride in with a girl who lives near me, but she only has two classes this morning and won’t wait around.”
“I’d drive twelve hours just to see you,” he whispers kissing my hand.
He doesn’t let go as we walk to class. I don’t feel the intense; visceral, physical reaction that Duke invokes, but part of me wonders if my intense need to hate Duke fuels my lust for him. In some sick, twisted way, I want to fuck him until it hurts. I want to purge whatever craziness takes ahold of me when he’s around. But I need to stop letting him touch me when I have the promise of what could be, with the man who is holding my hand like I’m the only girl in the world.
