Roll Me Away: A Smokey's Roadhouse Novel (6 page)

Yes, it was on, and it still had a small percentage of battery life. I looked at missed messages, just in case, and there weren’t any. Feeling slightly pleased that they were giving me my space as an adult, and slightly disconcerted that they weren’t worrying about me surrounded by bikers, I put the phone on the charger and went back to ruminating about my evening.

What was I supposed to think? That Jack, or Jake, whatever his name was, would fall madly in love with me, renounce his porn career and his motorcycle gang, and live happily ever after with me? I scoffed at myself.

Of course I hadn’t thought that. I was so blinded by lust I hadn’t really thought anything. I was probably lucky not to have been kidnapped and forced into sexual slavery. A snort escaped me. Like that would happen.

The real question was two-fold. When this crazy week was over, and I was embarked on my job search, how would I feel about doing such an out-of-character thing? Because as much as I fantasized about porn-style scenarios, wasn’t the reality just over the top?

Nothing in my past would have prepared me to do what I’d done last night. Would I replay it over and over, trying to process the outrageousness of it? Or would it fade into the back of my mind like a half-remembered dream?

I simply couldn’t decide. The second question was of more concern. Would experiencing that massive cock ruin me for anyone who didn’t measure up?

The first question would be answered before too much time had passed, I was sure. Either I’d obsess over the incident, or I wouldn’t. I’d know before the end of the week, surely. One thing was certain. It was something I’d never tell anyone, not even my best friend. Certainly not my family. God, I could just imagine their reaction.

I gave a passing thought to the possibility that I’d see him again when I was actually
with
my family, and he’d say something to spill my secret. But no, that was extremely unlikely.

The second might take longer to resolve. I didn’t have a boyfriend now, and the likelihood I’d get one soon was pretty small. I didn’t want to start a relationship in my home town since I’d be moving away. A new job, getting an apartment and maybe a roommate, and settling into both job and apartment would occupy my time for the next few weeks or months. I was about to enter a long dry spell for sex, no pun intended. So maybe obsessing over last night’s adventure wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

After an hour or so of chasing these thoughts around and around in my mind, I decided the best thing for the moment would be a nice hot shower. I stripped and went to the bathroom counter to comb my hair before shampooing it and stopped in shock.

My nipples were purple! Not a pretty, pink-tinged purple like the streak in Sissy’s hair. A brown, stippled purple that looked like – it was! Hickeys. On both nipples. Immediately, they formed hard points and wetness pooled at my core. Jake had given me a hickey directly on each nipple. I’d be marked for a week or more before they faded.

I touched them with both hands, and before I knew it, I was pinching and rolling them between my fingers. It hurt. Hell, yes, it hurt. They were bruised from the love-bites. But at the same time, the sensitivity sent signals straight to my pussy. I stepped into the shower and soaped both breasts, taking time to savor the sensations, before finally reaching between my legs to give myself the relief I craved.

I had my answer for now. Until the bruises faded, I’d relive my time with Jake every time I looked at my breasts in the mirror. I had a feeling that would be more often than usual for the next week or so. I closed my eyes as my climax approached, and visualized scenes from last night. Jake’s cock disappearing into my mouth, his lips on my breasts, and the last thing I remembered, being rammed over and over by that gorgeous, delicious,
enormous
cock! What I wouldn’t give to do it all again!

What if I didn’t go home with my parents after all? What if I followed Jake back to wherever he and his club were from? How could I make that happen?

T
here weren’t
many hours of darkness left when I got back to my motel room. I stripped down to my skivvies and got in bed, but the girl’s scent on the pillow kept me from sleeping. I tossed and turned, wondering if Jake was done with her, and if it would be safe for me to move in. Asking him was likely to trigger some possessive streak, so that was out.

When I finally fell asleep, it was with the uneasy knowledge we had church at nine, as usual. The fact it would be around a table at a restaurant didn’t change the drill. As a prospect, I couldn’t afford to be late, and there’d be no excuse for missing it. So I set the alarm on the cheap radio and hoped it worked.

When I woke up to the god-awful blast of static, I was still thinking about Jake and the girl, and how I could find out what his intentions were. And I had to stop it. I was supposed to keep my eyes open for likely marks today, and if I found one, I’d be gone for at least two days. But I wanted to hear more from the main club, not trusting Pug or any of Jake’s crew that much, now I knew the score. They were just as much on probation as I was. Only difference was that every one of them was the son of an original Devils member.

Five minutes before the deadline, Doc and I pulled up in the van and took our seats at the long table. Other clubs were having breakfast in the same restaurant, but it didn’t look like they were meeting about club business. Not enough of them, for one thing. We had the back room to ourselves, and someone had pulled all the tables together so we could talk business. Of course, it was all in misdirection and code. I had to stay sharp to keep up.

Sure enough, the whole mission and reason we were here was to boost the bikes. This year it was especially critical, because for some reason I couldn’t make out, cash flow was down. The logistics were complicated. Because anyone besides me who rode a stolen bike back to Rawlins would have left his own bike in Sturgis, the brothers would have to hitch back to get them.

This year, Rooster wanted everyone to try to do it twice. Every one of the young members, that is. That meant Jake, Pug, Snail, Gears, Hoss, and me. And the urgency meant we’d have to be extra careful. It wouldn’t be easy to roll twelve hot bikes through the same corridor of the highway system and expect not to get caught with one of them.

Rooster ended the meeting with a list of the features we were to look for. I wasn’t in a great mood anyway from lack of sleep. This just seemed to be the last straw. Not only was I expected to steal two bikes, ride them to Rawlins, hitchhike back to Sturgis in between, and risk my freedom for a club that didn’t even consider me a full member, but I had to make sure the bikes I stole were equipped with special features? Oh, hell no.

On the other hand, they’d made it plain that this was my initiation. If I pulled this off, I assumed I’d be patched in, and I’d have the rest of the money I needed for the bike I had my eye on.

We left the restaurant in a bunch, but soon spread out in twos and threes to take in the sights and sounds of a tiny town hosting a crowd that dwarfed the population of the entire state. Things would heat up later in the afternoon.

As Sarge and I passed the motel where the girl was staying, I wondered if she was still asleep, or if I’d see her later in the day. With hundreds of thousands of rally-goers in the city, it seemed unlikely. On the other hand, she might come looking for Jake or me at the bar where she’d seen us before. I realized I was kidding myself if I thought she’d be looking for me.

Sarge interrupted my daydreaming when he nudged me and nodded toward a bike parked in the same motel’s lot. I focused and took in the make and model with a quick glance. Working at Carl’s shop had given me a ton of information about various bikes, and I shook my head.

There was no question the Triumph Rocket III Roadster had what the club was looking for. It also had the look of a custom job. Too recognizable. I walked on while Sarge took a closer look.

I hoped these guys weren’t really this clueless. They couldn’t be if they’d been doing this successfully for very long. But casing a bike like that, while wearing club colors, that didn’t make any sense. If that bike went missing later, we’d be the first club the cops came looking for.

And it didn’t matter if we’d stolen that one or not.
Any
hot bikes in our possession would bring down more scrutiny than we could handle. Not even noon yet, and I was sweating bullets that someone else’s boneheaded mistake would get my ass thrown in jail.

Loitering on the corner and waiting for Sarge, I was startled to hear the girl calling me. “Zach! Zach! Hold up a second.”

I looked around and spotted her on the walkway of the second story of the motel. She waved. Reluctantly, I lifted a hand in acknowledgment. A moment later, she was in front of me, breathless from running down the stairs. Her hair was slightly damp, and gave off a scent of strawberries. With no makeup, she looked impossibly young and good enough to eat. I waited for her to tell me what she wanted.

“Where’s Jake?”

I should have known. She shrank back from me, and I realized I must be scowling. I tried to straighten my face before answering her. “I don’t know. He’s around. Why don’t you wait until later in the day and catch him at Downshift?”

“He’ll be there? You’re sure?”

“As sure as I am of anything. Something could come up. But he’ll probably be there.”

“Thank you!” She beamed at me before skipping back toward the building just as Sarge came up.

“Fast work, kid,” he said.

“She’s not mine. Just wanted to know where Jake is. They hooked up last night.”

“Oh. That’s no surprise.”

I took a second to be pissed off that he’d think it was cool for me to pick her up, but routine for Jake to. Before I had an answer ready, Sarge had another question.

“How’d she know you?”

I hadn’t meant to snitch, but now I was at a loss for how to answer without telling him the story. “Jake had me take her home last night after… Well, anyway, I took her back to her motel. I mean I brought her. This is her motel.”

My stammering didn’t go unnoticed.

“Okay, son, better tell me the whole story and don’t leave anything out.”

“I’m no snitch.”

“Good. I’m not asking you to be. I’m telling you that as a prospect, you’ll answer my questions fully and tell me the truth. What happened last night? Why didn’t Jake take her home himself?”

“Come on, Sarge. I have to get along with those guys. Why don’t you ask Jake?”

“Because I’m asking you.”

With no choice left, I put the best spin on it I could. When I finished telling him what happened, I ended with, “It freaked him out, man. But she was okay, just overwhelmed, I think. He must be one heck of a stud, is all I can say.”

“Guess so,” Sarge answered. He looked away, and my interest sharpened. He knew something he wasn’t saying. I sure wanted to know what secrets they were keeping from me, but it looked like I’d learn them in good time.

“You’re not going to let on I told you, right?”

Sarge looked over at me. “Don’t you worry about that. Just keep your head down, and do what you’re told. You’ll be okay.”

“
W
hy are
you telling me this?”

Rooster sounded belligerent, but I couldn’t blame him. He’d been torn in two when his son left the club, and now he was in a bad position because Jake wanted back in. If those kids hadn’t been our own, the club would never even consider it. And I’d just given him the low-down on Jake’s behavior last night.

“I just thought you’d want to know, in case there was fallout.”

“Jake’s an adult. I can’t control him, and I don’t care about his shit. If there’s fallout, let him deal with it.”

“Okay, Rooster, I get it. Sorry, man.”

As sergeant-at-arms for the Dust Devils, I had to walk a narrow line between enforcing our rules and staying in the good graces of my brothers, especially the founding members. I was a latecomer to the Originals, but still first-generation. Smokey, the president, and Rooster, his VP, founded the club right after they returned from Vietnam and found themselves hated for doing what their government had told them to do.

Doc joined soon after, and I came along about six months later, drifting through their territory in my own rebellion against the good citizens of this country. I wasn’t a baby-killer. I wasn’t even on the front lines, but society didn’t care. Well, fuck society, then and now.

In fact, I didn’t care about Jake’s shit either. Not now, anyway. He and his asshole buddies didn’t wear our patch at the moment, and if he fucked up too badly, he wouldn’t in the future, either. But there was a mission to fulfill, and we needed him to fulfill it. If he was in jail, even for a couple of days, it would jeopardize the mission, that’s all.

From what the prospect had told me, I wasn’t certain Jake hadn’t slipped the girl a roofie. ‘Course, Ecstasy was all the rage now. Better for the girl to stay awake and participate, but still trouble if she denied taking it on her own.

I thought maybe Rooster would talk to his boy, find out the truth of it. Then if the girl cried foul, we’d have a fighting chance to keep Jake from being charged. Rooster seemed to think I worried too much.

For my money, this role was getting to be too much trouble. Before Jake got hotheaded, everyone behaved themselves except for the usual teenage shit. We had a couple of scams going on, but we kept a low enough profile that heat never came back on us.

We didn’t get rich, but we didn’t get hassled, either. We kept to ourselves, didn’t worry too much about The Man, and got along just fine. I don’t know what got into the younger members. Too much television, maybe. They saw our way of life as too tame, not up to the standards of the fantasy world on TV. Decided to shake us up a little.

Well, they found out soon enough, didn’t they? You don’t go offering protection to an organization that’s already got protection. As for distribution, that was a joke. What kind of business expansion is a drug cartel going to expect in Wyoming? Barely over half a million populating the whole state, less than most major cities.

Most of Western Wyoming’s residents were Mormons, or it seemed so when we were surrounded by them. Good luck selling drugs to them. In fact, the emptiness was what made us settle there in the first place. That and the mind-your-own-business mindset of the west in general.

So here they came, Jake and his crew, wanting back in, because they’re dead broke and don’t have the brains of a gnat. Yeah, shooting videos has hit a standstill, because they had the swinging dicks.

Most of the men left in the club are either old farts like me, aging bikers with bodies that aren’t quite screen-worthy, or in a few cases, men with old ladies that would castrate them if they stuck it in one of the Bunnies for the camera.

Didn’t matter to me. My old lady was plenty for me. At my age, messing with the Bunnies, let alone an outside girl, didn’t even appeal to me. Maybe I was losing my edge.

Anyway, we could use the little bastards, and they knew it. They also knew we’d do better at Sturgis this year if they were along, so this was their key. And if Jake and his dick didn’t screw it up for us, we’d go back to the way it was.

My talk with Rooster concluded, I rejoined the prospect out in the parking lot. I’d told him to wait for me there and keep his eyes open. To his credit, he didn’t ask for what, and he did exactly as he was told. I was beginning to like this kid.

He hadn’t wanted to rat on Jake, and he’d downplayed it as much as he could. He knew his bikes, too. After he nixed one I showed him as a test, I knew I could count on him to be smart about what he boosted so I could turn him loose and let him do things on his own. He was going to be an asset to the club.

“Okay, we’re done here. See anything interesting?”

“Lots of Angels here,” he answered.

“Always. Anything else?”

“Yeah. I assume you don’t want us to jack bikes from other clubs, right?”

“Hell, no. Good way to start a war we can’t finish. Right.”

“Okay, then I think the best bet’s going to be the campgrounds and motels. I’ve noticed the civilians here with family don’t take their bikes when they leave.”

“Good. What else?”

“Dinnertime. That’s the time to do it. If it’s all the same to you, I’ll head straight for the highway. No sense hanging around here, waiting to be spotted on a bike that isn’t mine. Do you need me to show you what I’ve got before I ride?”

“Nope. You’re on your own. You’re doing fine, son. Just report back to me when you get back.”

“Got it.”