Kristen Ashley - Motorcycle Man

He studied me a few beats, his eyes flashed then his thumb swept my lower lip again and he murmured, “Well, fuck me.”

“I see the light’s dawning but I don’t care,” I announced. “Too late. I don’t understand the rules to your game but what I do understand, I don’t like. You have got to listen to me, a game is supposed to be fun and this is no fun for me. This isn’t fun at all. When it isn’t infuriating, it’s frightening and I don’t like either of those. I like your kids. They’re good kids so what I’m going to say next reflects on you, not them. I want you to let your kids finish their movie and then I’d appreciate it if you’d get yourself gone and take them with you. And, by the way,” I finished, “I don’t care if you accept my resignation or not. I won’t be in tomorrow and I’m not coming back. Now, please, get… off… me.”

“Listen to me, baby,” he said gently.

“No,” I replied sharply.

“Tyra, listen to me.”

“No!”

His thumb moved to press lightly against both of my lips as his head dipped down and to the side and I felt his teeth nip my earlobe. My body stilled under his at the shocking headiness of his nip, my breasts swelled, my fingers curled into his shoulders and my belly dropped all before he growled into my ear, “Listen to me.”

When I made no response, his thumb slid from my lips and his hand spanned the side of my head, he kept his mouth at my other ear and he held me captive as he spoke.

“Shit is not good in the Club. Shit is not good outside the Club. Shit is not good with Naomi. I got a lot goin’ down, it needs my attention. I need to stay sharp. I do not need to be thinkin’ about your sweet mouth wrapped around my cock or my dick buried in your tight, wet pussy, which is all I wanna think about. When I say I gotta stay sharp, baby, I mean, I don’t, I get dead and when I say that, I mean the not breathin’ anymore variety. You don’t fit into all the shit that’s swirlin’ in my life right now unless I can make you fit. That’s all I got to give you and that’s all you’re gonna get. And you’re gonna take what I have to give, Red. You’re not gonna resign. You’re not gonna disappear. You’re gonna be where I want you to be, you’re gonna do what I want you to do and you’re gonna listen to what I have to say and if you don’t do it, I’ll find a way to make you do it. That scares you, you gotta learn to get over it and you’ll learn not to be scared because I’d rather cut off my own arm than ever hurt you. But you fucked up, baby. You showed me somethin’ I want and I get what I want and I do what I gotta do to get it. So this needs to sink in right fuckin’ now, Tyra. You… are… stuck. Find some way to deal with it and my advice would be, don’t fight it. You fight it, I’ll take you on. That’s a guarantee. Do you understand me?”

“You’re scaring me right now, Tack,” I admitted breathily because I was lying on my back but everything he said made my breath ragged and there was nothing I could do to stop it mainly because I wasn’t lying. He was scaring me right now.

He lifted his head, his other hand came up so both were framing my face and he looked into my eyes when he whispered, “What scares you?”

What scared me? My God, he was insane.

“All of it,” I told him.

“Break it down,” he demanded.

“Shit isn’t good in the Club?”

“No, shit is not good in the Club.”

He didn’t elaborate, just confirmed so I went on. “Outside the Club?”

“Same outside the Club.”

Confirmation not elaboration and clearly I would get none of the last.

So, I whispered, “You could get the not breathing variety of dead?”

“Yep.”

“Ohmigod.” I was still whispering.

“Baby –”

“What’s going on?”

“It’s better you don’t know.”

I was willing to go with that.

“Okay, then, can I just say that I’m not all fired up to live in your world if that’s one of the problems you face.”

At that, for some insane reason, Tack grinned. Then he said, “See I got more explaining to do.”

Oh boy.

Before I could stop him (not that I could stop him), he went on, “Now, baby, you coulda taken your job with Ride and kept your shit separate. You didn’t. You came and partied with the Club. Then you took my hand and partied with me. That means I get to claim you and I have. There’s no out once you’re in and, Tyra, darlin’, you’re in.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“That’s the way of the world.”

“No it isn’t.”

“All right, babe, I’ll amend that. That’s the way of my world.”

“Okay, Tack, but that’s ridiculous!” My voice was rising and I declared, “I want out.”

“You don’t want out.”

“I do.”

“You don’t.”

“Trust me, I do.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I so totally do.”

“You want me to prove you don’t?”

Uh-oh.

“No,” I answered quickly as his hands tilted my head one way, his head slanted the other, his eyes dropped to my mouth and his face got closer.

“Too late,” he muttered against my lips. I pressed them together. He changed tactics at the last minute, his tongue slid along my lips and my eyes drifted closed as my hands pressed against his shoulders. “Open your mouth for me, baby,” he whispered against my lips.

I shook my head.

“I wanna taste you, open for me, darlin’.” He was still whispering.

I shook my head again.

His thumb moved across my cheek, sweeping across my lips again, his tongue following and all that felt way, way, way too nice.

“Open for me,” he urged gently.

I shook my head again at the same time pressing it back into the pillows.

His hand left my head and moved down my neck, my chest, as I felt his hips grind into mine.

Mm, that felt way, way, way too nice too.

Damn.

“Open,” he ordered.

I squeezed my eyes tight.

His hand kept moving down.

“Open, baby.”

I pressed my lips tight.

His fingers found the hem of my camisole, dipped under then the warmth of his hand was moving up my skin.

I squirmed under him.

“Open.”

I turned my face away from his and his hand cupped my breast.

“Open,” he whispered against the sensitive skin of my neck.

“No,” I whispered to the pillow.

His hand at my head moved to curve around my jaw, he pulled my face to his again just as his fingers curled into my bra and yanked the cup down, scraping the nipple, making it go hard. I sucked in breath as my body instinctively melted under his, the inside of my thighs pressing into the sides of his hips then his thumb swept across my tightened nipple, my lips parted and I gasped.

“There it is,” he muttered, then his lips crushed mine and his tongue slid into my mouth.

God, he tasted good. I forgot how good. So good, he tasted great.

My thighs tightened against his hips, his finger met his thumb at my nipple and rolled. I felt a rush of heat between my legs. The rush was so strong I moaned into his mouth and arched into his hand as my tongue tangled with his and my arms slid to lock around his shoulders.

“Dad! Tyra!” Tabby shouted. “Someone’s at the door!”

Tack’s fingers stopped rolling, his hand curled warm around my breast and his mouth broke from mine to growl, “No fuckin’ way.”

“Should I answer it?” Tabby called, sounding closer.

“Ye…” my voice broke, I cleared my throat and shouted, “Yeah, honey, go ahead. I’ll be right out.”

“Fuck,” Tack clipped and I opened my eyes to see his were drilling into mine. “We’re not done,” he announced.

“Um… I need to go see who’s at the door.”

His fingers tensed on my breast and he growled, “Yeah, but we’re not done.”

“Um…”

“You’ll see who’s at the door then we’re finishing.”

I bit my lip.

“With me?” he demanded to know.

I stopped biting my lip to mumble, “Uh…”

Suddenly his thumb swept my sensitized nipple, my lips parted and my eyes drifted halfway shut.

“You’re with me,” he murmured, I snapped my eyes all the way open just in time to catch his grin.

Then his fingers were righting my bra, his hand was out of my top, his body was off mine and I was out of my bed and on my feet.

I wobbled slightly since my knees were not ready to take on my weight and Tack’s arm went around my belly. He pulled my back to the front of his body, partly to hold me steady and partly to march me to the door with his face in my neck, against which he ordered, “Be quick gettin’ rid of ‘em.”

“Tack –”

His arm around my belly gave me a squeeze and his teeth lightly nipped the skin at my neck.

My legs wobbled again.

“Quick,” he commanded on a low rumble.

“Okay,” I whispered.

He held me close but reached beyond me and opened my bedroom door.

I walked connected to Tack with his arm around my middle all the way down the hall. I was freaking out and I didn’t want to like it but there was something about feeling his hard body and the power that naturally emanated from it surrounding me as we moved. He was not someone I felt safe with, at least this was what my mind told me, but my body felt something different.

I’d rather cut off my own arm than ever hurt you.

His words came to me, words I missed when he said them, and they filled my head so full, when we made it out of the hall into the living room, I had to blink my eyes to clear my mind.

Then I stared at Lanie’s fiancé Elliott standing in my living room with Rush and Tabby. The movie was on pause and there was no Lanie in sight.

Weird. Elliott never came over by himself.

“You know this guy?” Tack’s voice rumbled in my ear both audibly and physically.

“Yeah,” I replied. “Hey, Elliott,” I called, smiling at him.

“Hey, uh… Tyra,” Elliott replied, his eyes, for some bizarre reason, darting back and forth repeatedly from Tack to me.

Well, maybe it wasn’t bizarre. Tack was a badass biker who was holding me and Elliott knew me pretty well so he knew I wasn’t seeing a badass biker. He also probably got the lowdown from Lanie about Tack because I was pretty sure she told him everything. So he was probably surprised I was standing there in Tack’s arm with two teenagers in my living room that could not be mistaken as the fruit of anyone else’s loins but Tack’s.

Still, it was bizarre the way he was doing it because it didn’t seem like surprise or shock.

It seemed like fear.

Elliott was not tall, he was five foot seven and Lanie was five foot nine. Elliott had thinning blond hair and a receding hairline. Lanie had thick, lustrous, long dark hair akin to Tabby’s. Elliott had a paunch and a weak chin. Lanie was slim and svelte, a human hanger, no tits or ass, amazing bone structure, beautiful green eyes and she was pure elegance from top-to-toe. Lanie was a human goddess. Elliott was nowhere near a human god.

But Elliott was brilliant, a genius and not one of those socially awkward or arrogant geniuses. He was easy to talk to. He was funny. He was sweet. He was thoughtful. He was generous and he was kind. He never missed Lanie’s birthday and always bought her the perfect present, not always something expensive, but always something she wanted or something meaningful. Ditto with anniversaries. She said he made her laugh. She said he listened when she had a bad day. She said he held her when they slept. And she said she knew beyond any doubt she was the most important thing in the world to him. So Goddess Lanie saw beyond Elliott’s looks and he became the most important thing in the world to her.

They were a love match. Surprising to some, I was sure, but real. And because he made my best friend happy, I adored him.

“What’s up?” I asked, moving forward only to be tugged back, again bizarrely, into Tack’s body. This was bizarre not because he was holding me, which, I was getting, he intended to do whenever the hell he felt like it. No, it was bizarre how he was doing it.

In the hall, his natural badassness made me feel casually safe.

Right now, his tight hold and the feel of his hard body, statue-still and weirdly alert at my back, made me feel he was intentionally keeping me safe.

What on earth?

“Uh… I was wondering –” Elliott started.

“Is Lanie here?” I asked because I didn’t want Lanie there. I was a little panicked that she’d come storming in at any moment, see Tack, see his kids, see the evidence of fajitas and the movie and lose her mind.