CHAINED: A Motorcycle Club Romance

by Samantha Westlake

  Chapter twelve

  Once Talon had left the barn, still shrugging as if he didn't understand why this new girl was a big deal, Cain relaxed his arms a little from where they still wrapped around Jenna.

  "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice sounding much kinder as he peered down at the woman pressed up against his chest.

  For a moment longer, Jenna kept her face buried in his shirt before she pulled back to raise her eyes up to him. "He touched me," she said, her voice quivering.

  Cain's frown briefly reappeared as he glared after Talon. "Yeah, he does that. He didn't mean anything by it."

  "Didn't mean anything?"

  The girl sounded puzzled. Cain sighed, reaching up and running one hand through his graying hair as he tried to figure out how to explain.

  "Listen, around here, most of the girls tend to be, well, loose with their bodies," he tried. "They like sex, like giving themselves up to the men who come. Talon assumed you were like one of those girls, and thought that he was flirting with you."

  Jenna shook her head. "I thought it was always my choice if I wanted to be with someone."

  "It is, it is," Cain assured her. "But even though Talon was, well, handsy with you, he wouldn't have taken you, wouldn't have forced you. It was just his way of inviting you, even though he would have waited for you to accept."

  "So touching someone is a way of flirting?" Jenna asked. Still pressed up against Cain's chest, she reached up and ran her hand down over his shirt, feeling his tight muscles just beneath the thin fabric. "Is this flirting?"

  Cain tried to ignore how that touch made him tense up, made him suddenly very aware of certain areas of his anatomy. "It could be, yes," he admitted. "But listen, Jenna - tonight, there's going to be a big party here for the Iron Skulls."

  "Iron Skulls?"

  "The motorcycle gang," he explained. "Our new prospects - that is, some of the men who want to join, and are trying to prove their worth - are going to be coming by, and there's a celebration for them."

  Jenna grinned, and Cain could see that she was relaxing a bit. "I like parties. Am I invited?"

  "Er..." Cain tried to figure out how to put this. "You're welcome, I guess, but you know how Talon was flirting with you? There are going to be lots of bikers there, and that's sort of how they act. If it's going to be scary for you-"

  But already, Jenna was shaking her head. "No, I can handle it," she insisted. She looked a little scared, but there was a hard glint behind her eyes, speaking to that inner strength she'd briefly displayed earlier. "And I want to be a part of it. I want to see all your friends, to find out what the parties here are like."

  Another wince passed across Cain's face at the word "friends". But short of locking the girl in her room, he couldn't see a way to keep her from attending. And, if this party ended up going like most of the parties at his place thrown by the Iron Skulls, it would end up spilling out across the entire house, with different crazy activities in each room.

  "Just remember," he finally told Jenna, "that I'm looking out for you. If anyone at the party - anyone at all - tries to give you trouble, just tell them that you're with me, and for them to leave you alone."

  "What if they still don't?" she asked, looking at him.

  In response, Cain flexed his muscles. He might be a little older than some of the young bucks around here, he knew, but he was still just as strong, almost as fast, as he'd been in his youth. He didn't think that many of the men, even after a few drinks, would want to try facing off against him.

  "I'll handle them," he said simply.

  After a minute, Cain realized that Jenna was still pressed up against him, her hand still stroking his chest ever so lightly. He leaned back, looking down into her eyes.

  Perhaps sensing him looking at her, Jenna tilted her head back, looking back up at him, but she didn't pull away at all. And as their eyes locked, Cain realized that their faces were too close for just friendly greeting. He could see her lips only a few inches away, slightly pursed and inviting, as she looked up at him through half-closed, comforted, slightly sleepy eyelids...

  "Don't you have some painting to get back to?" he asked, frantically trying to break away from the alluring tug of her lips.

  For a moment, Jenna kept on looking up at him, her eyes calling to him. "I don't have to go rushing back to it," she murmured, suddenly sounding much more adult and in control than he'd suspected that she was capable of appearing.

  God, this was so tempting! Normally, Cain felt proud of the control he held over his emotions and lust, keeping them firmly bottled up. After the many indiscretions of his youth, he prided himself on his hard-won self control.

  But now, with Jenna pressing herself up against him, a warm and vibrant little bundle in his hands, all of that self control seemed to be melting away. Inside his head, Cain felt the ice palace he'd carefully constructed melting away, cracks showing in its foundation.

  "I think," he said carefully, untangling the girl from his arms, "that maybe you should finish painting before the party starts. That way, you won't be disturbed by anything."

  It was a flimsy excuse, he knew, but it was still just enough for him to escape, to get free of the young woman in his arms who made his thoughts spin and turn on their heads, upside down.

  Was there a moment of regret, of dismay, that flashed across Jenna's face? Cain thought for a moment that he'd seen one, but it was gone in an instant, before he could be certain of what he'd spotted.

  "You should come up in a little bit," she said, as she stepped back from Cain. "You can come see it - I'm sure it won't compare to your ceiling, but I think it's coming along okay!"

  "I'll make sure to stop by before the party," he promised quickly, still feeling a certain cotton-candy fuzziness to his thoughts.

  With one last little parting smile, Jenna turned around and gathered up the cans of paint she'd been in the middle of picking up to bring upstairs before Talon interrupted her. She sauntered back into the house and, feeling almost as though he was caught in a hypnotic trance, Cain watched her go until she'd disappeared around the corner.

  Only once she was gone, even the sound of her soft footsteps no longer audible, did he sag back a little, trying to think.

  He liked her.

  This much was clear, even just judging from the cracks that ran through his ice palace of self-control. How in the world had this happened? She had stumbled into his life, totally by accident. It wasn't even that they moved in different circles - he didn't even know where she belonged, and wouldn't know until her memory came back.

  But still, he couldn't get thoughts of Jenna out of his head.

  How she'd felt, her slim little body pressed up against him.

  How her hair had smelled as she nestled up against his chin, fresh and with a hint of clean soap, but overlaid by another scent that he knew immediately was her, plain and simple.

  How her lips had pursed ever so slightly at him, beckoning for him to kiss her. A part of him still felt unsure, as though he was taking advantage of a woman who hadn't yet recovered all her memory, but could that really change how she felt about him?

  Cain knew that deep inside him, despite being battered and bruised, his soul still insisted that he remain noble, that he make the right choices.

  That tarnished voice of his consciousness, perhaps sensing a rare opportunity to speak, piped up, telling him that he had to be careful. This wasn't some whore who wanted to stay at his house, some female friend of the club whose body would be passed around from member to member like a joint.

  Jenna, despite that light in her eyes that seemed to grow brighter whenever she looked at him, was still fragile and recovering. Even a brief little brush with Talon had showed that she wasn't ready to be exposed to the rest of the Iron Skulls.

  What's more, Cain suddenly decided, she never would fit into that lifestyle. No matter how much she recovered, he knew that Jenna would never accept the Biker's tendency to see women as possessions, there to
be shared amongst each other.

  So what was he to do?

  For several minutes, alone in his barn, Cain stood and gazed with unseeing eyes at the motorcycles in front of him. No answer seemed to be forthcoming - at least, no answer that would make everyone happy.

  If he kept Jenna here, sooner or later, something would break her, he knew from deep inside him. But if he sent her away, he knew that he'd lie awake for many nights, maybe even the rest of his life, wishing that he'd found some way to make things work, missing her.

  Angrily, Cain dug his nails into his palms. How could he suddenly care so strongly about this girl he'd never even kissed?

  Suddenly, the thought of a party tonight wasn't sounding so bad to him. The chance to get drunk, to maybe grab Cheery or one of the other whores and drag them off to his bed, might be exactly what he needed to get thoughts of Jenna out of his head.

  Abruptly turning, Cain headed back into the house. He'd find Cheery, tell her to let the other girls know that a party was going down tonight, and he'd pretend that Jenna didn't exist, that she'd never stumbled into his house and his life.

  Chapter thirteen

  A few hours later, as the sun dropped down towards the horizon, Cain's house was quickly growing more popular.

  More than a dozen motorcycles were already pulled up and parked in the fields around his house, the ground already marked with ruts from where they'd been parked on previous occasions. Most of the lights in the house were turned on, and any observer standing outside wouldn't be able to miss the occasional shouts and cheers of merriment.

  The new prospects weren't due to arrive until sunset, but the members of the Iron Skulls didn't give a fuck about showing up fashionably late to a party. As far as they were concerned, they were the party, and it started whenever they chose to arrive.

  A couple Iron Skulls had pulled up in a pickup truck, big grins on their faces and the truck's bed filled with four kegs of beer and a couple cases of various hard alcohols. Cain had stepped up and lent them a hand with unloading, the muscles in his arms and chest standing out as he helped lift down the heavy kegs. Most of the alcohol had been toted inside the house, distributed out across the various rooms, although one keg remained up on the front porch to greet new arrivals.

  And as promised, Cheery sent out the call to her wide network of female acquaintances. Cain still wasn't positive how the woman accomplished it, but the common areas of his house were now filled with sexy, alluring women, many of them wearing little more than bikini tops and tiny jean shorts on their young, nubile bodies.

  Standing on his front porch, he caught the rumble of more approaching choppers. He watched as they pulled into his driveway and found spots in the field to park, occasionally sipping from a red cup of beer freshly pulled from the keg beside him.

  The men in charge of the beer run had done a good job, he reflected as he lifted the cup up to his lips again. This was a good bit better than the usual cheap shit that they often bought - although by the end of the party, not a single man would be able to tell the difference.

  "Woohoo, party!" Tommy called out, as he strode up towards the front door. Cain wasn't sure of the name of the Skull beside him, but he recognized the other man as another junior member. Seth, perhaps?

  "How do things look inside, Cain?" Tommy asked, as he and Seth climbed up the front stairs of the porch. "Got some action going on yet?"

  Perhaps the first cup of beer, now settling in Cain's stomach, was warming him up. "Take a look for yourselves," he replied, feeling an uncharacteristic grin spread across his face as he nodded in towards the open front door.

  The gasps that came from both Tommy and Seth's lips were music to his ears.

  "Hey, big boys," called out one girl, perched one of the living room couches inside that offered a view of the front door. She uncrossed and recrossed her long, bare legs as they stretched out in front of her, resting on the coffee table in front of the couch. "Wanna come have a drink with us?"

  Tommy and Seth didn't even exchange glances. "Hell yes," they both chorused in unison, dashing inside to plop down on the couch alongside the young woman. Tommy beat Seth to the seat, but as soon as they entered, two other girls appeared around the corner, both of them grinning as they draped their curvaceous bodies over the young bikers.

  Still smiling, Cain returned his gaze back to watching as the sun settled down towards the distant treetops. If the boys weren't careful, they'd end up passing out from drunkenness and exhaustion before the new prospects even arrived.

  "Already shaping up to be a good party, I think!"

  The senior Iron Skull glanced over as Cheery appeared from somewhere, stepping up to stand beside him. She leaned up against him, although he couldn't say whether it was due to the slight chill in the air, or for more carnal reasons.

  Cain nodded. "Nice job on getting in some fresh girls," he commented.

  "Hah, with how popular bikers are getting as the classic 'bad boys'?" Cheery smirked a little as she slid an arm around his waist. "If anyone needs to watch out, it should be those junior members! A lot of these girls arrived with a pretty hungry glint in their eyes. They're looking to snag someone for more than just tonight, I'll tell you."

  "And you're not in there, competing with them?" Cain asked, rubbing one hand on top of the woman's bleached-blonde hair. Leaning up against him, Cheery still only came up to his chin.

  "Yeah, like I can compete with an eighteen-year-old's perky tits and fresh-faced naivete," Cheery snorted back at him. "I'll look for an older man, one with a bit more experience and who won't rush straight to the ending. A yearling sounds great, until fifteen minutes in when I realize that he's already blowing his load."

  The metaphor didn't fly over Cain's head, despite the beer. "Please - any of those men would be going crazy if they knew all the tricks you've picked up that you could show them."

  "That's strong coming from you - you've seen all those tricks," Cheery retorted. "I ought to put you on my resume as a reference."

  "Whores have resumes?"

  "Well, we've got a list of names to call if we need favors," she smirked. Her hand, around his waist, slid a little lower. "Now, are you going to keep on standing out here all night?"

  Cain glanced down at her. "What are you suggesting?"

  Cheery grinned up at him, even as she moved in to bring her other hand in around his thick waist as well. "I know you've got to be around when the prospects arrive, but we've got a good bit of time before that," she suggested. "You and I could duck inside, find a bit of privacy before the whole house is filled with drunk, high bikers rampaging everywhere."

  He opened his mouth to reply, but the crash of a shattering window made him wince before he could speak. "You sure we're not too late already?" he asked ruefully, glancing up and trying to figure out which pane of glass had broken.

  By this point, Cheery's hand had dropped down quite a bit from his waist, and it was now groping at areas that were very sensitive and aware of its presence. "I think we can still find a spot that will be secluded enough," she whispered, rising up on her tiptoes to bring her lips within range of his ear.

  Feeling her warm breath against his earlobe, Cain felt himself make a decision. He reached out with his own hand and tightened it around Cheery's waist, pulling her up to press against his chest. He easily lifted her up off her own feet, feeling her warm breasts press up against his chest, and kissed her.

  "Lead on," he instructed.

  With a grin, Cheery towed him inside.

  #

  About a half mile down the road from Cain's house, a man sitting in the back of a van glanced sideways at his companions.

  The man had a name, to be sure, but to the others in the van he was known only as Bulldog. Bulldog liked to claim that he'd earned this nickname for both his loyalty and his pugnacious nature, and none of the others would disagree - at least to his face. In private, they admitted that the nickname was due as much to the way that the man tended to sho
ve out his unfortunately large jaw, along with his perpetually grumpy nature, but they knew better than to utter this comment anywhere that Bulldog might hear.

  At the moment, Bulldog felt even more grumpy than usual. His boss, Archon, had reamed him out, and Bulldog was looking forward to the opportunity to make things right with his employer - or, at the very least, to spread that shit around with a big shovel.

  "Okay, you idiots," he growled, glaring around at the other men in the back of the van with him. "You know the drill. Kevin's gonna knock at the front door and feed them the 'escaped mental patient' line, and we're gonna creep around the back and check the windows. If we see the girl, we grab her, and make sure no one else sees. Anyone makes any trouble, let them have it. Boss wants this all cleaned up - no traces."

  The other men nodded, their hands resting comfortably on the weapons they held in their arms. Most of them had chosen shotguns, although one or two carried pistols.

  They knew what "no traces" meant.

  Bulldog sighed, adjusting the black balaclava pulled over his head. "Right. Remember, she's got reddish blonde hair, skinny, probably gonna be scared and run at the first sound."

  He racked the pump action on his own shotgun, making sure there was a shell loaded in the chamber and ready to fire.

  "Don't hesitate - make sure the bitch is either in here, or dead."

  The van rumbled on, heading up towards the house ahead of them.

  Chapter fourteen

  Inside Cain's house, the party had already deteriorated into near-chaos.

  Cain observed this with a bemused half-grin on his face as he followed Cheery inside. This is what happens, he thought to himself, when a whole group of young alpha males are mixed together with a bunch of hungry, willing females - and then, just to light off the whole powder keg, alcohol is dumped over everyone.

  In the living room, at least, clothes were still on - at least for the moment, although that fact looked likely to change at any moment. Tommy, still on the couch, had slipped back into a reclining position, and the young woman who had invited him in was now crouched on top of him, her lips locked to his as she rubbed her hips back and forth across his crotch.