RIDE (A Stone Kings Motorcycle Club Romance)

“
O
h
, Trig!” she moaned. “Oh, baby, you’re gonna make me come so hard!”

Her name was Cheryl, or Sherry, or some shit like that. Something that started with a “sh” sound. Which was fitting, because the bitch hadn’t shut up since we got to the motel.

I mean, don’t get me wrong. I like a woman to show some vocal appreciation, but this one sounded like she thought she was auditioning for a porno. A bad porno, at that. Luckily, she had the best set of tits money could buy, and a pair of legs that just wouldn’t quit.

Her sister wasn’t bad, either.

I had met Cheryl/Sherry at a bar a few weeks ago, and we’d enjoyed a rousing fuck in a dark corner of the parking lot as I took her hard and fast up against the hood of her car. I’d ended up at that same bar tonight, and there she was again, this time with a slightly taller, slightly bustier carbon copy of herself.

Never being a man to resist an opportunity when it presents itself, we eventually ended up here, with me preparing to fuck the life out of both of them. Cheryl/Sherry wasn’t the best piece of ass I’d ever had — generally speaking, I didn’t bother with any woman more than once — but the prospect of banging two of her at once had convinced me to make an exception to that rule.

Cheryl/Sherry was whimpering and gyrating against my hand as I lazily finger-fucked her. My cock was standing at full-attention as I tried to decide which of them to bang first. I watched out of the corner of my eye as the other one batted her doe eyes at me seductively (
What the hell was her name? Candy? Bambi? Who the hell knew?
).

As if she knew was auditioning for the part, she knelt down and proceeded to wrap her ruby-red lips around my cock. A groan of satisfaction escaped my throat as I settled back and let her work me. She kept her big blue eyes locked on mine as she bobbed up and down, sucking with just the right amount of pressure.

Cheryl/Sherry’s eyes grew wide with lust as she watched the two of us. Not one to be outdone, she bent over me and hung her tits in my face. I grabbed one breast in my mouth and sucked its nipple to hardness. “Oh, yeah, just like that, baby,” she crooned. She reached down to her wet slit and began to pleasure herself, then immediately began shrieking and moaning again. I resisted the urge to tell her to shut the fuck up.

Candy/Bambi was a fuckin’ Olympic champion at giving head, I had to admit as I watched her go down on me. If it had just been the two of us, I might have just let her keep going until I creamed in that luscious, pouty mouth of hers. But I’m a generous guy, and there’s enough of me to go around. Never let it be said that I let a lady go home disappointed. So I pulled Candy/Bambi off my cock and got her on her knees. Cheryl/Sherry gave me a wicked little grin as she watched, then knelt in front of her sister and began to kiss and lick her breasts. My cock jumped at the gorgeous sight of one hot slutty chick getting another one off. “That is fucking hot as balls,” I growled.

I grabbed the condom off the night table and ripped open the foil wrapper, then moved behind Candi/Bambi, shoving my sheathed cock inside her warm, wet slit right up to the hilt. She cried out and thrust her hips backward to meet me, and I pulled back and slammed into her again, feeling my balls start to tighten already.

We were making a whole lotta noise right now, but I didn’t give a shit. The owner of the motel was in debt to our MC for some past protection we’d given him, so I knew I had nothing to worry about. Besides, just about the only people renting rooms in this place were doing it by the hour, same as me.

Which is why the sudden pounding at the door came as a complete surprise.

“Goddamnit,” I growled. Raising my voice, I called out: “Go the fuck away!”

“SHARON!” came a male voice from the other side. “SHARON! I know you’re in there!”

“Shit!” gasped Cheryl/Sherry. Her eyes were frantic. “It’s Bill!”

“Who the fuck’s Bill?” I grunted.

“My husband!” she whispered.

The pounding resumed. “SHARON! Open this door or I’m going to kick it down!”

Candy/Bambi rolled her eyes. “There’s no way he’s kicking that door down. He’s too much of a pussy.”

A hand on the other side jiggled the knob. It turned.

Apparently, no one had thought to lock the damn door.

“Fuck,” I groaned, and pushed the women off me. Shit was about to get messy.

In the open doorway stood a wild-eyed, skinny guy with a scruff of a beard. Both of the women screamed and instinctively tried to cover themselves with their arms. A low, agonized moan escaped the man as he took in the scene of his wife fucking some other dude. It wouldn’t have been anything I hadn’t been through before. Except for one thing.

In his left hand was a Glock 19.

“Jesus, Billy!” Cheryl/Sherry/Sharon cried out when she saw the gun. “What are you doing with that thing? This is not what it seems, baby! Just calm down, okay?”

“Not what it seems?!” he yelled. His eyes grew wilder as his shock slowly turned to rage. “What the fuck does that mean? What the fuck else could this be, Sharon? A goddamn scrapbooking party?”

He raised the gun and pointed it in our general direction in a menacing gesture, but old Billy looked a little uncertain as to exactly what to do with it. Maybe he had never fired a gun before, I thought. He didn’t really look like the type to own a Glock.

The other woman had started to cry hysterically. I had to try to de-escalate this before things got out of hand. “Look, man, I’m sorry,” I said, holding my hands up slightly in what I hoped was a gesture of apology. “I didn’t know anything about this. If this is your wife, I didn’t have any idea she was married. All I know is she and her sister and I were just having a good time. Nothing serious. This was clearly all a mistake.”

“Her
sister
?!” Bill yelled in surprise. “That ain’t her sister!”

Well,
shit
.

“Okay, okay. Not her sister,” I nodded. I took one side-step toward the chair where my jeans were hanging — with my own gun in the back pocket. “Look, if you’ll just let me get some pants on here, let’s calm down and discuss this man to man.”

“NO!” he cried suddenly. “Don’t fucking move!”

“Okay. Not moving,” I nodded, freezing in my spot. Over on the bed, Cheryl/Sherry/Sharon had started to cry as well. Candy/Bambi was clutching a pillow in front of her, in some sort of instinctive but useless attempt to protect herself. Fuck. I was gonna have to disarm this guy before he did something stupid.

“Hey, Bill, look. Let’s let the women get some clothes on here, okay?” I said, nodding toward the two sobbing women on the bed.

He looked at me uncertainly, then finally gave me a slight nod. The two girls scrambled over to the floor where their clothing lay. The guy’s eyes flickered toward them, and then back to me. “You stay right there, you hear? Don’t you fuckin’ move!’

I nodded. “Sure, of course.” The gun trembled a little in his hand, and he steadied it. His breath was coming in quick gasps. “So,” I continued, trying to keep my voice low and soothing. “Like I said, man, I had no idea that Sharon was married. Pretty slick of you to figure all this out. How’d you work out that she was here?”

“Her car’s in the parking lot,” he said dully. “I been following her. I knew she was cheating on me for a while now. I just knew it!” Instead of calming down, he began to show more signs of agitation, waving the gun around wildly toward his wife.

“That’s rough, man. But maybe shooting someone ain’t the solution, you know? I mean, why risk jail time for some bitch who cheated on you?” I took a small step closer. He didn’t seem to notice.

“Yeah, yeah… fucking
BITCH!
” he yelled suddenly. The girls shrieked in fear and backed themselves against the wall.

I took another step forward. “Look. Why don’t you put the gun down? It ain’t worth it, brother. Believe me, I’ve done time. It ain’t worth spendin’ the rest of your days on the inside for one second’s worth of revenge.”

“Oh yeah?” he sneered. “Then what should I do? Just fuckin’ let y’all go? When you made me look like a fuckin’
pussy
?”

“I’m pretty sure you made your point, dude. You’re no pussy.” Nodding my head toward Cheryl/Sherry/Sharon, I continued. “And I’m pretty sure she’s not gonna do this again. She knows you are not a man to be fucked with. Ain’t that right, Sharon?”

Bill took his eyes off me for a split-second to glance at his wife, and I had my opening. Barreling toward him, my shoulder connected with his chest, knocking him off balance. As he fell, he began to scream, and before my hand could make contact with the Glock to disarm him, a loud shot rang out.

A feeling of sudden numbness in my left thigh was soon replaced by searing, burning pain. “Fuck,” I rasped, gritting my teeth against it. I grabbed the barrel, wrenching it out of the other man’s hand before he could shoot again.

“Jesus! Oh, Jesus!” he wailed, scrambling away from me in a frantic crab-walk toward the door. His eyes were wide and half-crazy with terror. “Jesus, I shot him!”

“Oh my God!” one of the women began to scream. “Oh my God! Look at the blood!”

“We have to get out of here!” the other one cried. They were babbling and freaking out so much I couldn’t really tell which one was saying what. Whoever this one was ran toward the man. “Billy, we have to go! NOW! What if someone calls the cops?”

I lay there in a near-stupor as the three of them, suddenly unified in purpose, flew around the room grabbing the women’s belongings, then raced to the door. Bill flung it open with a loud bang. Then the three of them, the women still half-dressed, ran outside and disappeared into the night.

“Goddamn. Goddamn,” I muttered.
Well, at least it’s finally fucking quiet in here
.

With difficulty, I raised my head to look at the damage. The bullet had entered my left thigh close to the groin. There was blood, plenty of it, and I was already starting to go woozy. This wasn’t good. Not good at all.

I lifted myself painfully into a sitting position and dragged myself over to my clothes. Pulling them down, I grabbed my T-shirt and ripped, working as fast as I could to make a tourniquet to tie around my leg above the wound as best I could. Then I fumbled in the pockets of my jeans until I found my phone. I managed to unlock the screen and punch in the contact I was looking for.

“Repo,” I groaned when he answered. “I need you to bring a cage to the Hi-Lo Motel on Highway Five. Room Number Twelve. And bring Patch with you. I’m shot.”