by Jessie Cooke
Her eyes were suddenly back on his belly and the path of silky brown hair that led from his navel to the treasure below. Even though she was sore and satiated, she felt her pussy tingle again. Fuck. She had to get out of there before she did something even more stupid than fucking him again. If there was something stupider than that…a vision of that drink she’d ordered the day before popped into her head. “I didn’t drink it!” she snapped to her own conscience, out loud. She looked back up at Chopper’s face. He was still breathing evenly. His hard chest was rising and falling…Shit! She slowly rolled over on the arm he had under her head and toward the edge of the bed. Once there, she lowered her feet to the floor and quietly slid off the bed. She sighed a breath of relief when he still didn’t stir. It was early yet; he was probably used to sleeping in.
She began to gather her clothes as quietly as she could, and she was just scooping up the last of them when the sound of heavy metal music practically shook the walls of the room. A silent scream ripped through her body and her heart began to race. Naked and clutching her clothes to her chest, she looked back toward the bed. Chopper was sitting upright with his phone in his hand. He wasn’t looking at the phone, though, he was looking at her…sadly. “You were going to sneak out on me in the middle of the night?”
“Um…first, it’s not the middle of the night…” The phone had stopped making the horrible noise but the sound of his “Oh fuck! Motherfucker!” sent another wave of panic ripping through her. He slapped his forehead and cursed again.
“You okay?”
He chuckled, but still looked upset. “I was supposed to be up, dressed, and on the road about four hours ago.”
“Oh, shit. Sorry.”
“Nah, it’s not your fault…” He sent a quick text and then started pulling back the sheet and climbing out of bed. Still in panic mode, she ducked into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. She stood there with her back to it, breathing hard and trying to calm down enough to pull her clothes on. A soft knock on the door startled her again.
“I’ll be out in a sec,” she said in a shaky voice.
“Was it something I said?”
She rolled her eyes. He really had been a nice guy. He’d treated her like she was the most special, beautiful woman on earth the night before while they were having sex. If she wasn’t who she was, and hadn’t been through the things she had, she may have even called what they did “making love.” But that wasn’t what it was, and the rational side of Chelsea knew that. It was a mistake, but since she hadn’t been drunk or high, and she had been safe making him wear a condom each time…it wasn’t all bad. She could get dressed and head home and be showered and shined before it was time to take the trip out to her parent’s house for her visit and dinner. She repeated to herself once more, “Everything is okay.”
“No,” she finally said to Chopper. She turned and pulled the door open a crack. “I’m sorry. I just hadn’t been planning on staying the whole night. I’m going to get dressed and then I’ll be out of your way.”
“You’re not in my way,” he said, lightly pushing against the door. “As a matter of fact, if you wait until I take a quick shower, I’d love to give you a ride home.”
“I can walk,” she said. Her eyes were on the part of his body that she could see in the crack in the door, and God help her if she wasn’t imagining how hot he’d look in the shower.
“I’m sure you can,” he said, leaning more of his body weight on the door. He wasn’t forcing it open. She could have pushed back any time and she was sure he wouldn’t have fought her for control of it. But she wasn’t pushing; strictly the opposite, she was leaning back slightly so the door could fall open far enough for her to see all of him. Her palms practically ached with a need to touch him. Jesus, what have I gotten myself into? “But I’d really like to give you a ride.”
“Aren’t you late? Don’t you need to get somewhere?”
His initial irritation seemed to have ebbed and now he smiled and shrugged. “Yeah, but where I’m going will still be there in an hour, or two…” She couldn’t help but smile at the mischievous look on his face. He was so fucking masculine and manly, but there was something of a little boy in his eyes. A little boy who was about to reach into the cookie jar.
“I don’t live that far. I wouldn’t take hours.” He pushed the door the rest of the way open and she didn’t try to stop him.
“Yeah, but what I have in mind first will…” Their bodies were pressed together before she could even react and as he covered her mouth with his, he moved them sideways so that he could reach the shower. With one arm still around her waist, he reached inside the glass shower stall and turned on the water. Her brain was trying to start working again; it was trying to break through the heavy fog of lust that had descended upon her. She shut it down. Her brain was working 24/7…It deserves a short vacation, right?
He waited long enough for the steam to start wafting out of the top of the shower and then he broke the kiss and stepped in through the open door, pulling her along after him. The bathroom floor was already soaked, but he pulled the door closed, warding off a flood. He looked at her like she was the most decadent dessert he’d ever seen, and his tongue ran along his bottom lip almost absently. He took her by the shoulders and gently turned her around facing away from him, and the warm water cascaded down across her body. She felt the touch of his hot lips to the back of her neck and then she felt his tongue tracing the designs of the tattoo on her upper back. She had that one and another that covered her right shoulder both front and back. She had a tramp stamp on her lower back and a design on her left thigh that swirled with color and ended in the midst of a white skull surrounded by roses. She had designed that one herself and it was her favorite. She wondered if he liked it, but then his hands began to move and she forgot all about them…fuck, she forgot her own damn name for a second.
Her knees were weak as she leaned her body back into his, and those magic hands slid up until they reached her breasts and he cupped them both. She sighed and then moaned while he began to squeeze and massage them. He brought his thumbs up and ran them across her hard nipples. She felt a rush of liquid between her legs, and it wasn’t from the showerhead. When he brought his fingers up to meet his thumbs and began to tweak and pull, she had to lean into him to keep from falling. She was shaking all over and gasping as he pleasured her nipples and continued to bite and suck on her neck and across her shoulders.
“Oh Jesus,” she whispered. She felt his body shake in a silent laugh and he spun her around again to face him and said:
“It’s Chopper, babe. Say my name.” While he was talking, he reached down between her legs and tweaked her sensitive clit.
“Oh fuck!” He pinched it between his thumb and forefinger and said:
“Say my name, baby.”
“What’s your name?” she whispered.
He chuckled again. “Forgot already?” His fingers were playing with her lips and she felt like she was losing brain cells by the second.
“No,” she whispered. “Tell me your real name.”
“Thought you didn’t want to know any more about me.”
She chuckled then. “Touché. I want to know your real name.”
“If I tell you will you scream it out when you come?”
“Mm-hmm…” She was close already. His fingers were fucking magic.
“Justice.” She laughed. “I’m not kidding.”
“What a cool name,” she said. “Why don’t you use it?”
He rubbed her clit a little harder and she was moaning loud enough that he had to raise his voice slightly as he said, “I used it most of my life. I use it when I need to. But Chopper is more who I am now.”
“Why did they name you Justice?”
She felt him smile against the side of her face and he said, “Scream it out when you come and I’ll tell you.”
She nodded. This was no time for talk. She wanted to concentrate on what his fingers were doing.
The one in her pussy was still working and the other hand come back up and grasped one of her breasts. She felt his mouth slide down across her collarbone until he reached her nipple and then he licked it hard. She gasped, and he licked it again and again like a kid with an ice cream that he just couldn’t get enough of. She was rocking her hips against his hand and arching her back while he teased her nipple with his tongue. She felt an orgasm building in her toes and if he hadn’t pulled his fingers out almost at the same time that he bit down on her nipple, she would have come right then. Instead she yelled out, “Fuck!”
Chopper laughed and with his mouth still wrapped around her breast he said, “Tsk, tsk, it was supposed to be my name.”
He was sliding down now, over her abdomen and toward her pussy. “It would have been if you would have let me come,” she lectured, weakly.
He was chuckling again into her hot, wet flesh even as he knelt and reached her pussy. She screamed out his name as soon as his tongue touched her swollen, aching clit and less than three minutes of him exploring her folds with his tongue, licking and flicking her inner walls and then finally sucking her clit into his mouth and nipping at it, had her not only screaming out his name, but pounding her fist into the tile wall. She wasn’t sure, but she might have even blacked out…just for a second. Fuck, I could get addicted to this. Hell, I might just walk out in front of a motorcycle every day.
5
When Chelsea stopped chanting Justice over and over, and her body started to loosen up and stop shaking, Chopper got to his feet. His own body was reacting to the orgasm she’d just had too, and he had to hold onto the door of the shower with one hand. He pulled her up against himself again and sucked her tongue into his mouth. They kissed long, slow, wet, sloppy, and hot while their bodies melded together like they were made out of clay. His cock was throbbing against her stomach and he was dying to get it into her, but he hadn’t brought a fucking condom into the bathroom with him.
So, thinking about getting one, but unwilling to leave her hot body long enough to do that just yet, he reached behind her for the tiny travel-sized bottle of shampoo on the shelf. He opened it and poured half of it into his hand. Then using both of his hands and keeping his body pressed against her, he began slowly working the shampoo into her hair. His palms rubbed in circles and his fingers kneaded her scalp. She had her eyes closed and she was moaning almost the same as she had when his fingers had been up inside of her. She let him lather her hair and then she dropped her head forward. Her lips landed on his neck and while he took a step back from her to rinse the soap off her hair, she began to kiss, lick, and suck on his neck. He worked his fingers through her hair from roots to tips until all the shampoo was washed out.
He reached for the soap then and she put her head up and said, “Huh-uh, it’s my turn.” He tore off the package and handed the bar of soap to her. She took it between her palms and rubbed them together. He was dying to fuck her. He felt like he was dying inside, but at last her hands were on his body, rubbing his shoulders gently with the soap and running them down his arms all the way to his hands. He took a step back and let her put her hands on his chest. The way she washed him made him never want to take another shower alone. She took her time. Her touch was both soft and hard, the epitome of eroticism, and it only got better.
She reached up and aimed the showerhead at his body, letting the soap wash off his skin and down into the drain. When the top half of his body was free of soap, she slid her body down his, running her breasts across his cock and almost making him scream. Finally, she landed on her knees and her hands were on his thighs. She gripped him with her fingers and began to massage the area around his cock and balls. He was groaning, and it was his turn to call out her name. He put his hands in her wet hair and tangled it around his fingers just as she sucked the tip of his cock into her mouth. She rolled her tongue around it and then she sucked the shaft all the way in until it hit the back of her throat. She was fucking phenomenal. Chopper had been fucking every woman he could get his hands on since he was a senior in high school, but he’d never experienced something like this before. She wasn’t just good at sex; it was like their bodies were in tune with one another.
She was sucking and licking and playing with his balls and the water was turning cold but he didn’t even care. He tightened his grip on her hair and said, “I’m going to come, Chelsea, you might want to stop.” She muttered something with her mouth full of his cock, but she didn’t let it slide out. Instead she seemed to tighten the suction on it, and one of her hands came up and her fingernails scratched into the flesh of his chest and stomach as she dragged it downward. Chopper was cursing and grasping at the shower door for something to hold onto with one hand and nearly pulling her hair out by the roots with the other as he came…hard, like he hadn’t just come three times the night before. Chelsea didn’t flinch, she didn’t gag, she didn’t stop what she was doing, until what was happening to his body was complete. As soon as it was, he pulled her to her feet and held onto her with one arm and turned off the water with the other. He pulled her into him and he kissed her. He wanted to consume her. It was only supposed to be one night, and not even a full night. He should have been halfway to Sturgis already. But fuck…no fucking way could he just walk away now. No fucking way. He was having that thought as he pulled out of the kiss with his body still shaking and heard himself saying, “You should go to Sturgis with me.”
Chelsea’s face revealed that she was just as shocked by the invitation as he was to hear himself offer it. Not that he didn’t date. It wasn’t always a one-night stand. But fuck, he’d just met this woman. He met her because she ran out in front of him like a crazy person. Someone was following her…shouldn’t I think this through?
“Um…thanks, but I can’t,” she said. He found himself ready to ask her again, despite his own inner dialogue, but the sound of a phone ringing from the other room distracted them both. He knew it wasn’t his; his was all programmed with the likes of Guns N’ Roses, ZZ Top, and AC/DC. “That’s mine,” she said, pushing the shower door open and letting go of him. “I should get it.” She grabbed a towel, and he watched her leave the bathroom. Damn, that’s a pretty sight…one I want to see again, and again. I’m in fucking deep…after what? Twelve hours? Damn.
He stepped out of the shower too, and he didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but the door wasn’t all the way closed and the walls weren’t that thick. He heard her say, “Mom? Is everything okay?” She listened in silence and then he thought he might have heard her suck in a sob, and that was when he really started paying attention. “But Mom, that’s not fair. This is…Mom, I know, but I’ve looked forward to this all week…” He saw her shoulders shake and he had the urge to go over and put his arms around her, but he stayed where he was. He knew that was way too intrusive, way too soon. “Okay, yeah, you’re right. No, don’t be sorry. I understand. I’m just disappointed. I love you all too, so much. Okay, Mom, I’ll call you on Tuesday. Have fun.” He watched her lower the phone slowly and after a couple of seconds, she straightened her spine and turned toward him with the towel covering the parts of her that he already knew intimately.
“It looks like my plans for the weekend have changed. Can you have me back by Tuesday afternoon?”
Chopper smiled. He didn’t like that she was upset, but he had confidence he could remedy that. “Absolutely,” he said.
6
They were a few hours from Boston before they stopped at a Waffle House and Chopper told Chelsea they would be meeting up with the rest of the “crew” in Ohio. Now that she stood in the bathroom, she told herself she should have known that most of the MC would be going on this trip, but it had all happened so quickly, and she hadn’t given herself much time to think about it, if any at all.
Chelsea had been devastated when her mother called and changed their plans for the weekend. She had four days off. That never happened on a weekend when she had plans to go to her parents’ ranch. She was going to leave on Saturd
ay morning, be there by noon, and have almost three full days. She felt like she couldn’t breathe for a few seconds when she ended the call. Then she thought about how badly she wanted a drink. Then she called up the memory of a phone number she hadn’t used in over three years. It was probably a moot point now anyway. She doubted it would be the same number. Thank God, because it was the number of one of Wayne’s friends, the guy that used to supply her with uppers and downers and whatever else Wayne handed her along with a beer or a shot to wash them down. Then suddenly it dawned on her that she had a perfect distraction standing right behind her, and just like that she’d agreed to go on a nineteen-hundred-mile motorcycle trip with a biker she’d known for less than twelve hours. Now she sighed and looked at her face in the mirror of the Waffle House bathroom. It was things like this that her mother, her father, her sponsor, and her counselor, warned her about. Her impulsiveness would either lead her back into a life of addiction, or it would get her killed…or both.
