Hard Steel: Erotic Motorcycle Club Romance (3 page)

I grabbed Cash’s huge, muscular body and threw myself into his arms; leaning up, nearly falling off the stool, I kissed him. His breath was hot and tasted like whiskey; for a moment he didn’t respond but then I felt him kiss me back and my heart raced. I felt his hands on my hips and he squeezed tightly; the slight embrace was enough to make me moan. Then he pulled back abruptly.

“Well, now, teacup, that was nice, but this is not the time or the place for that kinda behavior. You don’t have your head on right,” he said, shaking his head. I looked around the bar and realized everyone was staring at us. I bit my lip and dropped my head, more embarrassed than ever.

The bartender planted a cup of warm tea in front of me. I grabbed it, wanting to do something with my hands to distract myself from the shock and shame that was rolling through me as I thought of all those dirty, lecherous faces watching me. I sipped slowly and was surprised by the subtle taste of whiskey.
Here goes nothing, hopefully I’ll wake up and won’t remember any of this,
I thought, and drank deeply.

Cash had his half-smile on again, and was reaching for a napkin. He wrote something down on it, quickly, and passed it to me. He leaned in very close to my ear and whispered, “if you ever have your mind right and wanna see me again, though, you go ahead.”

I looked at the napkin. It was his phone number. I blushed again and pushed it away. There was no way that I would ever want to see any of these people again. I was just drunk, that was all. And confused. Because of Brian.

“No, no, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” I said, trembling. Cash’s grin never left.

“Suit yourself, teacup,” he said. Outside, I heard a car approaching. “That’ll be you. Here’s enough to get you home.” Cash pulled out a gigantic wad of bills and handed me one. Looking at it, I saw it was a hundred.

“Oh, no, really,” I started to protest.

“It’s a long ride, teacup. And don’t worry, there’s always more where that came from. Right boys?” He said, turning to the rest of the bar, who were still watching us. Cheers came from all around. I hopped off the stool.

“Thank you, for everything, and I’m, I’m real sorry,” I said again, backing towards the door. Conversation resumed as though nothing had happened, and I dashed out the door and into the cab.

***

That night, I had the strangest dream. I was in the desert, but it was cool, with a breeze blowing and clouds shielding the worst of the sun. I was lying on the warm sand, burying my feet and hands in the fine particles and letting it run through my fingers. I felt safe and warm. I was wearing a short dress, almost like a nightie, and I didn’t have any panties or a bra on, but I didn’t mind. It felt good being exposed. Then, I felt fingers creeping up my legs.

I remember looking down and seeing Cash between my legs, half buried in the sand, his rough hands moving up my calves and then past my knees. He was looking at my exposed pussy and I thought it felt wrong but I liked it. As his hands passed my knees and began slowly making their way up my thighs, my breathing grew rapid and I could feel my heart beating hard in my chest. I said something, but I don’t remember what it was. Cash’s lips were chapped from the desert sun and sand.

I remember watching his hands creep ever closer, his fingers just barely brushing my thighs, making my skin rise in goose bumps and shake with pleasure. Finally, his fingers found my pussy and began tracing my slit; at the same time, it seemed, his whole body moved forward so that his face was hovering right above my pussy. I could feel his hot breath on my clit and I remember wiggling my toes in the sand, feeling so good and wanting more.

Please
, I said, in a dream-voice, and just as I woke up I remember feeling Cash’s fingers entering my pussy, and his tongue reaching out and licking at my clit. I woke with a start and immediately blushed, even though I was all alone in my room. I discovered that my hand was buried between my legs, and I could feel my own wetness on my fingers. No matter how much I wanted to just roll over and forget the dream and go on with my day, I couldn’t help but linger for a moment longer, rubbing myself against my hand, feeling the way my body responded to the stimulation and the friction of my fingers against my clit.

I moaned softly into my pillow as I gyrated against my hand; I rolled over onto my stomach and lifted myself slightly onto my knees, giving me more access to my clit and pussy. I’d never masturbated before, but I knew what felt good so I kept doing it, rolling my fingers around my clit while thrusting my hips against my hand.

I tried to continue the dream I’d been having, imagining Cash’s lips against my pussy, his tongue taking the place of my fingers, and found myself thrusting harder and harder, rubbing faster. A throbbing pressure began to build in my pussy and I groaned into my pillow as I continued to finger myself.

“Sara! Come down for breakfast! You’re going to be late!” I heard Mom’s voice calling from down the stairs. At the sound of my name my heart stopped and I froze. What would my mom and dad think if they saw me like this, and knew what I was thinking about? What if they found out I was getting off on the idea of some low-life criminal licking my young, virgin pussy? I was utterly ashamed and almost felt like crying.

I jumped out of bed and hurriedly threw on some clothes, then ran out to the hallway to go downstairs. I paused and turned into the bathroom instead. I washed my hands in hot, soapy water; I still thought I could smell my own pussy juices on my fingers. I splashed some cold water on my face, hoping it could wash away any sign of guilt. Looking at myself in the mirror, I only hoped that Mom and Dad wouldn’t notice anything different about me. I certainly felt different.

I was ashamed, it’s true, but I also felt sexy, and my pussy was aching. I wasn’t sure, at the time, what an orgasm felt like, but after the way I felt playing with myself that morning, I knew that it had to feel amazing. I wanted to feel that. I wanted to come; my body wanted it. And I knew, deep down, that it wasn’t just an orgasm I wanted. I wanted Cash.

He was old, and dirty, and probably a major criminal; but I wanted him. He was strong, and he made me feel safe, and his eyes on mine had felt so…dangerous. I wanted to feel his eyes on mine again, his lips against mine, his eyes on every inch of my body, and his hands…

“Sara!” my mother called again from the bottom of the stairs, making me jump. I realized I had been standing at the sink with the water running for at least a minute, thinking about Cash and the things I wanted him to do to me. Blushing again, I turned off the taps, took a few deep breaths, and headed downstairs.

“Well, there she is!” Dad said, looking over his newspaper with a smile. “Oversleep? Or just daydreaming? About Briiiii-aaaan?” Dad loved teasing me about having a boyfriend. The truth was, he really liked Brian and thought he was a good guy. High school football hero and straight A student, he was exactly the type of guy you wanted to bring home to your parents. I felt a rush of anger remembering what he had done to me the night before. But I couldn’t exactly tell Mom and Dad the story. 

“What’s wrong with you this morning, you’re so quiet,” Mom said, pouring me some coffee and setting a bowl of cereal in front of me.

“Nothing,” I said quickly, doing my best to smile back naturally. It didn’t seem to quite work, because Mom gave me a weird look.

“Well, whatever, honey, just make sure you get to class on time,” Mom said, turning back to the dishes. I felt like I was wearing a shirt that said “slut” in big letters, the way my parents were just going about their normal morning while I was upstairs fingering myself and dreaming of some stranger’s tongue dancing around my clit.

When I checked my phone that morning, I had ten missed calls from Brian, and about 15 “I’m sorry” texts. I deleted them all without reading them. I was so done with Brian. I went to class, as usual, did my homework, as usual, and came home and had dinner, as usual. What wasn’t usual was the way I couldn’t focus on anything for more than a few minutes at a time. Inevitably, I would feel my attention drifting back to Cash.

After a week, nothing had changed. I didn’t have dreams every night, but often enough to drive me crazy. Finally, my will just broke. I realized what I needed to do, and decided to do it quickly, before I could change my mind and try to just endure the torture.

***

On the Saturday after first going to the biker bar, I woke up determined. Jumping out of bed, I immediately got dressed and headed out. I knew there was nothing in my wardrobe that would make me fit in, and I didn’t even think I could ever fit in no matter what I was wearing, but I decided that if I was going to do this, I needed to go whole hog.

I drove through town, rejecting all the cute little boutiques and name-brand stores that were my usual haunts. Instead, I pulled up next to a store called “Wyld Thing” that had leather jackets and chaps displayed in the window. In the store, I ignored the snickers and comments from the burly men behind the counter.

“Going to a costume party, sweetheart?” one called out to me as I browsed through a rack of leather vests. I shot him a dirty look and kept searching; I pulled a few off the rack and turned to the men behind the counter.

“Got a changing room?” I asked, trying to sound tough. The men just grinned.

“Not here, honey. But we don’t mind if you wanna change right here, do we?” one of the men said, nudging the one next to him. I felt my skin crawl at the thought of these jerks enjoying the sight of my young body.

“Well, what’s your return policy?” I demanded, trying my best to hide my disgust.

“Well, you can return anytime you want, but those don’t come back here, sweetie.” I rolled my eyes. I couldn’t pick anything without trying it on and didn’t want to have to pay for three vests if I only needed one, but realized I didn’t have any options. Throwing them down on the counter, I crossed my arms and looked into the distance as one of the men started ringing me up.

“So, really, sweetheart, you going to a party? Or you just wanna treat your boyfriend?”

“None of your business,” I snarled. I hated being hit on by these gross men; sure, I was into Cash, but that didn’t mean that every big bulky biker could turn me on. As I paid and strutted out of the store, I heard more laughter and whistles follow me. I sped home as fast as I could, feeling a mix of indignation and embarrassment. They were right. What was I doing? I wasn’t that sort of girl. Not at all.

Once I got home, I raced upstairs and immediately ripped my top and bra off. I knew I had to act fast before doubt got the better of me. Once I tried the first vest on, there was no need to try on any of the others. It zipped up the front and gave my already-generous bust an extra boost of cleavage. I grabbed a denim skirt and a pair of open-toed pumps and called it done.

I didn’t wear a bra or panties, knowing that I would be in agony deciding which to wear. After applying a bit of makeup, I decided I was good to go and ran downstairs, praying that my Mom and Dad wouldn’t be hanging out somewhere they could see me. Once safely in my car, I plugged the address I had gotten online into my GPS and drove off.

A half hour later, I was once again parked outside of Della’s, this time solo. I was breathing heavily, nearly panicking. I’d never done anything even remotely like this, and I wasn’t sure what to expect, or if I was having some sort of mental breakdown. I finally turned the engine off and stepped outside, adjusting my clothes as I did. Taking another deep breath, I walked quickly onto the porch, threw the door open, and strode to the bar.

I could see the stunned looks on the men’s faces as I approached the bar. I wasn’t sure if they recognized me or just weren’t expecting someone like me to come in.  I immediately felt embarrassed by my entire. I could tell by the smirks and chuckles that I was trying way too hard. Standing at the bar and waiting to catch on of the bartenders’ attention, I felt naked. Finally, the dark-haired bartender approached me with a smile on her face.

“Well, don’t we know you from somewhere, little girl? You sure do look familiar. What can I get you?” She asked.

“I’m…I’m looking for, uh, Cash?” I whispered.

“What’s that, darling?” She asked, leaning in, winking at one of the men at the bar.

“Uh, Cash?” I repeated.

“You’re asking for some cash? Well, what you got to make it worth it for us?” She laughed. She was speaking loudly and all the men at the bar were staring at us now.