I swore beneath my breath and steered my car to the shoulder of the road. At the back of my mind I cursed myself for ignoring the engine light that had come on a week before, but I'd had too much to do before my job interview at the Crows Feet Clinic. Now, on the very day of the interview, I’d broken down. I switched off the ignition and glanced over at my boyfriend, Ben.
I held back my anger. I could tell by his tone and the look on his face that he wasn't going to be much, if any, help. I didn’t know why I put up with him. He wasn't even that good in bed. Plus he was lazy, thinking that because he was a lawyer it excused him from anything and everything that might get his hands dirty. Fuck, give me strength.
"You're not even going to look at it?"
"If by ‘it’ you mean the engine, then no. You know I don't know anything mechanic."
I released a sigh. Neither did I, but I knew where to put oil, gas, and water when it needed it, and I knew where the battery was. I felt myself beginning to tremble with anger. As I continued to stare at Ben he continued to stare back until I wanted to scream at how useless he was. Why, oh why, had I let him talk me into letting him come with me today?
"So, you're not going to get out and at least look like you're trying to help?"
"Do you know how much this suit cost?" was his asinine response. "No, sorry."
Totally useless jerk! What did I ever see in him?
I gritted my teeth and opened the door, exiting my car with a promise to myself that this was it—this was the day that I was going to break-up with that asshole and get him out of my life. Getting the job at the clinic would help with my justification for ending our relationship, considering that I'd have to move a whole county over from where we currently lived. With as much strength as I could muster, I slammed the door shut behind me while reaching inside my leather jacket for my phone. Thank God for AAA, this made the phone call short and sweet.
As I prepared to wait the hour or so for someone from AAA to get there, I leaned against the back of the car, so over Ben. At about that time I heard a motorcycle approaching, and to my surprise the driver pulled over and came to a stop right next to me. I tried to control my expression because the guy was hot, and I mean panty-wetting hot. Everything about him screamed “fuck me now”, and I knew by his tight, faded jeans, black tee-shirt, boots, and leather cut that he was a real bad-ass biker, the dangerous kind who belonged in a club. His cut was covered in patches. He was smiling.
"Need help, beautiful?"
Even though his compliment seemed sincere it made me feel uncomfortable. I knew I was attractive, but I'd never considered myself—and my womanly curves—beautiful. The way that his dark-as-midnight eyes moved over me backed up his comment. I knew when a man was undressing me with his eyes. Excitement raced through me. It’d been a long time since a man had looked at me in the way that he was looking at me now.
I became aware that he was still waiting for my response. "No thank you, I just phoned AAA and they're sending someone."
I reached up to push back a stray strand of hair away from my eyes. I knew that my casual style wouldn't hold up for long. I'd dressed professionally for the interview, in a slim-fitting, light brown skirt and a cream-colored blouse that, if you looked hard enough, revealed the lacy bra that I wore beneath it. I resisted the urge to pull my leather jacket over my breasts.
He was looking hard enough that I was surprised my blouse didn’t catch fire.
"You live around here?" he asked with a sexy quirk on his lips.
I hoped to soon, but decided to keep that to myself. I mean, the man was handsome and sexy, if you liked big and rugged, but he could still be a serial killer or something. "No."
"Too bad," he said. His gaze roamed with slow interest down my legs to the stilettos on my feet. I knew they made my legs look long and shapely. Something like regret covered his expression. “Heaven.”
“Excuse me?” Did I want to know what he was thinking?
A slow, cocky smile spread across his slightly whiskered jaw. “Those gorgeous legs, baby,” he began, capturing my gaze again. “I bet they go all the way up to heaven.”
Holy shit! It wasn’t his words that had shocked me, but the path of his gaze, which had dropped and then stopped, as if he could see right through my skirt. I caught my breath as my body responded in a very wet way. My nipples hardened at the intensity of his hard stare, so much so that they hurt. I wanted to reach up and soothe them. The tingle that settled spread throughout the rest of my body. His smile never wavered. He knew exactly what he was doing to me! What the fuck?
“And I like those back scratchers.”
I had no idea what he was talking about. "What?" I glanced down at my feet where he was looking now, not even sure what I was looking for.
He chuckled. "Your fuckin' heels, baby." Like that explained everything. "I like the feel of heels scratching my back when I'm fucking a woman."
My jaw dropped from the visual he'd created in my head, of the two of us doing just that. I’d never had a stranger talk to me in such a filthy way before. Yet, even as it shocked me, it caused a firestorm of need inside me that took my breath away. My libido meter went off the fucking chart, and for a minute I forgot we were standing on the side of a road.
I was saved from having to come up with a response as his gaze moved to my car, where Ben was sitting in the passenger seat, oblivious to everything that was going on around him. "Shit, baby, looks like you got yourself a ride." Why did I get the feeling he was talking about something naughty, and sexual? His gaze swung back to mine, and then he was shaking his head. He took a deep breath. "Well, then, if you're sure you're okay I'll be off."
Just like that, his interest seemed to have disappeared.
"I'm good, thank you for stopping." I tried to smile but couldn’t muster one. I was so hot and horny now that if Ben hadn’t been stagnating in the front seat I would have dragged the biker into the back and had my way with him. Something told me that he would have been all for it. I couldn’t be sure, but the front of his jeans looked like it was holding an impressive hard-on.
After the biker left I glanced at where Ben was sitting, completely oblivious to what had just taken place between me and the biker. Shit, the guy could have forced me on his bike and ridden off with me, never to be seen or heard from again.
And I would have liked it.
As I waited for AAA, I thought about what life was going to be like now.
In a new job.
In a new town.
Three weeks later…
“What the fuck?” I stopped when I heard the familiar rumble of a motorcycle and glanced down the road to see Chicken riding our way. Sitting precariously across his bony lap was what looked like a rolled up carpet. As he grew nearer, I could see the shit eatin' grin on his ugly face. He was proud as shit about something.
The brothers behind me stopped because I had, and we waited for Chicken to reach us. I shook my head and crossed my arms, fixing a lethal look on him. The prospect lost his smile and came to a cautious stop before us. So far he’d been one big fuck-up and it didn’t look like things were getting any better.
“Before you go all crazy on me, prez, I did what you asked. Just wait!” He pushed the carpet to the ground, got off his bike, and proceeded to grab the end of it. “I had a little trouble, but I improvised.” Jerking the end of the carpet, he began to unroll it until a woman was revealed.
Even upside-down I recognized her.
She was the woman.
The very one who’d plagued my fucking dreams for the last few weeks, the same one whose face I saw on every sweetbutt I fucked, ever since the day that I’d stopped to help her on the side of the road. I’d hit on her, hard, until I saw the fucking suit sitting in the passenger side of her car. She’d declined my offer of help, but I had a feeling that she would have let me kiss her, and more, in the backseat while waiting for AAA to arrive if we’d been alone. I can still remember how fucking hot she’d looked that day.
She might be dressed down right now in tight jeans and a clinging tee-shirt, but she looked even hotter in casual clothes because they clung to her full curves, revealing that she had plenty of the good stuff to hold on to while banging her. Then I noticed her feet, no shoes. That’s right, the chick was barefoot. I gave her a lazy, appreciative look. Sweet Jesus, she was all tits and ass from what I could tell. I felt my cock twitch.
“Goddamnit, Chicken!” Lenny, my VP, swore before I could. “What the fuck have you done?”
Chicken was tall and thin but he held his ground in the face of the older, bigger biker. “I did what I had to!” he defended himself. “The clinic was closed for a medical emergency at the hospital and she was the only one there.” He crossed his arms.
The woman in question was still on the ground, unwittingly bringing attention to her large tits as she lay on her backside panting. Her wild blonde hair was half-up, half-down, and with a huff she brushed it out of her face and eyes, which were shooting daggers of blue lightning up at us. When my gaze returned to hers, she had enough fury in her eyes to damn me to hell and back. If she recognized me she didn’t show it.
I shouldn’t have, but I smiled.
She got to her feet on her own steam and headed straight for Chicken. “You dumb shit! I couldn't breathe!” It was clear that she was going to hit him, which just wouldn’t do. No one hit a brother, even a prospect, and got away with it. Chicken actually took a step back, producing laughter from Wizard and Tank. It was clear her attack had caught him by surprise. “You could have killed me!”
Just as she raised her hands to hit him I stepped forward and wrapped an arm around her waist hauling her off her feet and back against me. I immediately noticed the difference between her and the skinny whores that hung around club. Thicker waist, curvier hips, and right now her fleshy ass was rubbing against me, and any time I had something this sweet against my dick I got hard.
“Who the hell is in charge here?” she snapped, digging her nails into my arm and struggling wildly, obviously too angry to appreciate her situation. “Kidnapping is against the law, you jerks!” She tried to pull my arm from around her waist, throwing her head back with purpose.
She wasn’t scared, just mad as hell.
Her attempt to head-butt me produced a chuckle from the guys. I was six-foot-six and her head barely reached my chest. There was nothing she could do to hurt me physically, but that didn’t matter. Just the fact that she was trying to hurt me was cause for immediate action. As the president of the club I had a reputation to protect. My crew might be amused at what was happening, but they still expected me to put her in her place and show her who was boss. As she continued to wiggle against me, the clip holding her hair popped open, releasing long, wild hair.
The kind of hair a man could grab a hold of when pounding into her from behind.
Fuck me. Not a vision that I wanted right then.
“Let me go, asshole!”
I had a feeling that her hysterical command was the result of my hard cock. Unless she was dead from the waist down, she had to feel it against her ass. I was harder than a steel rod from her movements, and I’d always liked a woman that looked like a woman, with curves I could sink myself into. Another thing affecting my libido was the way she smelled, clean and fresh. I was used to the smell of cigarettes, booze, and sex on the whores that I slept with.
“Take your filthy hands off me!”
That did it. She needed to be taught a fucking lesson. There was an old, broken down jeep close by and I threw her up against it, pushing her there with my body. Ignoring her gasp of pain, I fisted a hand in her long hair and jerked her head back roughly, enough so that our eyes could meet.
“Give me anymore trouble and I’ll show you how filthy I can get. It won't be a hardship to rip your fuckin' jeans off and fuck you into submission right here in front of everyone." I snarled the words against her ear and decided to back it up with a kiss. I ground my mouth over hers, not giving a shit if my roughness was hurting her. Her mouth was full and fucking soft, keeping my cock as hard as fucking stone.
I heard the laughter and crude sexual remarks from my brothers in the background, but all that soon faded into nothing as I forced her to open her mouth for my tongue. Sweet fucking Jesus! The next thing I was grinding was my cock into her ass, fighting the urge to flip her around and follow up on my earlier threat. My dick wanted inside her cunt so bad it was driving all other thoughts from my head. I forgot why the hell I was kissing her. Oh, yeah, I was showing her who was boss.
Her bottom lip was just too tempting, and as I ended the kiss I bit down on it enough to make it hurt. I opened my eyes to hers, smiling in the face of her speechless anger. No fear, just fucking spunk. This woman either didn’t know about the Wild Marauders and what we were capable of, or she was just that stupid.
In spite of her fucking curves, she was no bigger than an elf compared to me. Most of my brothers and I had a good foot on her, and a hundred plus pounds. I examined her flushed face and bruised, wet mouth. My cock ached, and I couldn't stop myself from pushing it against her ass again. She gasped, reminding me why my hand was still twisted in her hair and why I was pinning her against a rusty vehicle.
“I remember you.” Her tone was barely above a whisper, the look of recognition in her eyes backing up her comment. I expected to see fear there, but instead I saw something else that I couldn’t quite figure out. I’d wanted her that day on the road, that hadn’t changed, but right now I had a situation on my hands that took priority.
“Don’t test me, baby, that was just a sample of the damage I can do to you.” I yanked her away from the jeep and shoved her toward my brothers.
Lenny was still glaring at Chicken, probably because he knew the trouble Chicken’s screw-up could cause us. I knew it, too, and though she was pretty trouble, no cunt was worth the risk of putting my MC in danger. The last thing we needed were the cops coming around. Not after all the money we’d donated to the town to keep the law, and upstanding town’s folk off our backs.
“What’s your name?” The anger in her pretty eyes amused me. She was still showing defiance, but I didn’t have time to deal with it in the way that I should, or wanted.
“Katherine Riley.” She crossed her arms. My gaze fell to her big tits. “What’s your name?”
My crew laughed and I knew it had more to do with her sass than the actual question. I had a hard time pulling my interest away from those hard little nipples poking through her tee-shirt, wondering what they would taste like on my tongue. My dick was still damned hard, craving a piece of her, but I ignored it, and her question. Time for play later. “Are you a nurse?”
She shook her head. "I'm a nurse's aide."
I looked at Chicken with irritation. Fucking mess up!
"She said she was a nurse," he grumbled.
"I told you I was a nurse's aide, asshole." She slapped her hands on her hips and directed her scowling gaze on me. "You can't keep me here against my will."
I grinned, fighting the urge to kiss the sass off her mouth. "You'll soon find out what I can and will do." I looked at Chicken. "My office, now." I turned and began walking. “Wizard, take our guest to one of the vacant rooms upstairs.”
I knew I could trust the grizzled old man to keep his hands to himself. The last trouble we needed was someone crying rape.
I couldn’t believe the rugged hot biker who’d stopped to help me almost a month ago was standing before me now, and seemed to be the one in charge. My reaction to his dangerous appeal was the same as it had been then, and it had my practical sensibilities balking. I didn’t want to find him attractive, but it was damned hard not to when the man reeked of barely-contained sexuality, and my body wanted a taste.
This wasn’t me.
I liked safe and predictable.
Boring like Ben
What I hadn’t counted on was my reaction to the rough treatment by his hands combined with his raw filthy language and scorching looks. My libido hadn't stood a chance. His attack had left me speechless, my brain scrambled, and my pussy wet. That I hadn’t expected, nor had I anticipated the hard-on pressed against my butt. Especially from a man who, in his position, probably had any woman that he wanted. He exuded sex just in the way he looked and carried himself. I had a feeling that his bad biker-ass attitude wasn't just for show.
He wasn’t drop-dead handsome, he was rugged, commanding, and jagged around the edges, but his hard blue eyes ripped at a woman’s weakness and I wasn't immune. I had a feeling that fucking someone like him would be nothing short of mind-blowing. For just a second, when he'd pushed me up against that truck and leaned into me, something crazy inside me had wondered what it would be like. His threat would have shocked and degraded a more innocent woman. I was no innocent, but I wasn’t a whore either.
I'd heard all about the local motorcycle club, had even seen them drive by the clinic a few times. Word was that they were involved in a lot of illegal activity disguised by the few legal businesses they owned. Folks went out of their way to avoid having anything to do with the club, and turned a blind eye to their goings on. Even the law in our small, cow-poke town seemed to give them a wide berth, letting them handle their own problems. All of this was according to my co-worker. It didn’t take a genius to know that you didn’t give them trouble. The basic rule was you leave them alone, they leave you alone.
So why had I been kidnapped?
At the moment I had no choice but to let Wizard take me by the arm and lead me away. I wasn't about to put up a fight when I knew that I would be the only one to get hurt. The situation I’d found myself in could turn bad real fast, and I felt a very real threat from their leader, in spite of our mutual misguided attraction. I’d expected a slap for my smart mouth, I was used to that and could handle it, having grown up with an abusive aunt and uncle that hadn’t really wanted me around. They'd dished out slaps like they were treats, and after a while I had grown numb to them.
I hated my aunt and uncle, and hadn’t looked back once I’d left.
Since he and Chicken were walking ahead, my eyes roamed over his perfect backside. To say that the man was in shape would be an understatement. His wide shoulders and back tapered down to lean hips, thick, powerful thighs, and a tight ass, emphasized by the jeans he was wearing. His sleeveless cut sported the MC logo. There was nothing cute about the one-eyed skull that was their insignia. It was pure evil looking. His pointed teeth were clamped onto a knife that was dripping blood. The bandana around his bony head, along with his one good eye, was blood-red, as were the words written above that said, “Wild Marauders MC”. The words beneath the skull’s head stated their location, Crows Feet, Maine.
The vest revealed the bulging muscles in his arms and the shaggy black hair that lay against the back of his thick neck. I recalled the hard muscles he’d pressed against my backside when he’d held me against the jeep, and that had been before I looked at him, really looked at him, and realized who he was. He wasn’t wearing a shirt beneath his cut, and the split down the front had revealed a hard, well-sculptured torso, I’d never seen abs like his before, not in person anyway. Ink covered most of his right arm. My fingers itched to trace the black, intricate lines.
I’d only moved to the rural town of Crows Feet two weeks ago, to accept a job as a nurse’s aide at the small clinic right outside of town. They didn’t usually close up until five, but today, at around two o’clock, Dr. Putter had been called to the hospital. Something about an eight-car pile-up on the interstate. Left to close up the place, I took a quick shower and changed like I sometimes did before going home. The building was an old house that had been converted to a clinic, but the upstairs had been left alone.
Just as I had finished getting dressed, the bell sounded over the entrance doorway, alerting me that I'd forgotten to lock the door and that someone had come inside. I flew down the stairs, coming face-to-face with Chicken. My first thought, after looking him over and determining that he wasn’t injured, was that he might be there to see Stella. She was a staff-member who liked bikers, and had been known to date a few.
The first red flag came when Chicken asked me if I was alone. I’d briefly explained what had happened to the doctor and told him that we were closed. “Are you a nurse?” he’d asked. Once I'd clarified that I was a nurse’s aide, he'd demanded I come with him. I had refused. The office had recently had new carpet installed, and Chicken had obviously seen a piece left over sitting against the wall, because the next thing I knew I was rolled up in it like a hot tamale.
With no idea of what was going on I wasn’t surprised to see that he’d taken me to the biker clubhouse. I’d never been there, hadn't even known where it was located, until today. The bikers’ presence screamed danger and trouble, but seeing them up close and personal for the first time, I could understand why Stella was drawn to them. The bikers I’d seen so far were hard-muscled, tattooed Gods in jeans and boots, sporting chunky rings and chains. They looked rough, and capable of anything.
Their leader didn’t say much, but maybe he didn’t need to. It was obvious that he was a man of action and few words. The look he’d turned on Chicken when he ordered him to his office had spoke volumes. Reaching the entrance door, Chicken opened it and stepped inside. As I moved to follow I was stopped when an arm shot across the open doorway, blocking my way. I glanced up to meet the sexy biker’s lethal eyes. If he thought his stony expression was going to intimidate me, he was in for a surprise. I didn’t scare easily.
I waited for him to speak, ignoring the erratic pounding of my heart.
It had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with my awareness of him.
How close we were.
“I hope you’re going to be a good little girl until I sort this shit out.”
I stiffened. I was anything but little. Sure, I was short, which made for a fuller figure than I would have liked. At twenty-seven I was comfortable with it, until someone brought attention to it by making a comment. In the old days I'd run away to cry in a corner somewhere when the skinnier girls, like the stuck-up cheerleaders I’d gone to school with, had called me fat. These days, a reference to my full figure didn’t bother me. It was the “good little girl,” part that fired me up, and if I was going to be honest, my unwanted attraction to him.
I tossed my long hair over my shoulder. “Then maybe you’d better take me home now and save yourself some grief. I’ve never been a good little girl, and I don’t intend to make things easy for you.” It was a threat and we both knew it. They were only words, empty meaningless words that I knew deep down I couldn’t possibly back up. The only thing I had going for me was my smart mouth, brains, and a nature that wouldn’t let me give in without a fight.
The slightest curve of his sensuous mouth didn’t fool me into thinking that he’d found my comment funny. His gaze zeroed in on my boobs, and I felt an immediate and unwelcome response from my nipples. Traitors! If that wasn't bad enough, something warm and wet flowed from my core to my panties. Fuck!
“I’m not afraid of you,” I said, drawing his attention back to my eyes. I was only afraid of what he made me feel. I couldn't understand where it was coming from, but I had a feeling that he had this affect on every woman.
The corners of his mouth turned up even more. “Don’t piss me off,” he said in a deep, even tone. “Or you’ll find out what I’m capable of, and I promise you, you won’t like it.”
Another threat? “I’m sure you’re very skilled in all kinds of violence against women.”
He remained quiet for a moment, and I felt a flicker of unease. I knew better than to taunt someone I didn’t know, but it was too late to take it back now.
“I’m also very skilled in all kinds of different ways to fuck a woman.”
Fuck! The man didn’t beat around the bush. A flush of heat spread over me but I refused to let him see how his blunt words turned me on. He dropped his arm and I quickly joined Wizard, where he was patiently waiting. As we walked down a hallway Chicken took a turn, which I assumed was to the office, while Wizard and I kept on walking. I followed him up a flight of stairs and down another hallway until he paused at one of the doors. I watched him reach above the door jamb, extracting a key that he used to unlock the door. He pushed it open for me and motioned me inside.
“My prison.” I took a few steps into the center of the room, and then stopped and turned to face him.
“Shouldn’t be here long,” Wizard said in his grizzly tone. With his long hair and full beard it was hard to tell how old he was, but I was guessing around sixty. “It’s for your own safety that Lynch wants you locked up.”
So, Lynch was his name. I released a huff and crossed my arms. A prison none-the-less. I couldn’t believe they were going to lock me up. I started a list in my head.
Held against my will.
Oh, and, let’s not forget Lynch’s sexual assault on my senses.
“Look,” he said, hesitating as if he couldn’t make up his mind about something. “I wouldn’t try anything if I were you. We have some new boys who might mistake you for one of the sweetbutts around here. You find yourself cornered by one of them and you can count on giving up some pussy.”
“Thanks for the warning.” I wasn’t shocked by what I was hearing. I’d heard the clubhouse was not only home to the MC and their old ladies, but to the prospects hoping for a place in the club and the women who hung around to dance and entertain the men. Thank God Stella liked to talk.
Wizard closed and locked the door and suddenly I was alone. I glanced around at my sparse surroundings. The room had only the necessities-- a bed, a dresser with a mirror, and a small table with two chairs. The walls were bare, and there was one small window. I rushed over to it. Two stories hadn’t seemed that high in my mind until I glanced down onto the bare ground. Several motorcycles were parked below, and through the open window I could hear faint voices drifting up from below.
Still, an escape wouldn’t be impossible, even barefoot. There was a small ledge outside the window, and closer inspection revealed that it continued all the way to the end of the building. With a little luck I might make it to another room with a window, one where the door wasn’t locked. It was a risk, but one I was willing to take. I had to try.
Smiling, I thought about what Lynch's reaction would be when he discovered me gone, and I wished I could hang around long enough to see his face once he realized I’d also made off with one of the motorcycles. Of course I'd see that it got returned.
No harm done.