Chapter Two
“Oh, for fucks sake.” Clive gritted his teeth as he heard the wail of a siren behind him. He’d chosen the 91 for his ride because it was the last place he thought he’d come across any lurking police cars. Most of them would be in town, or handling domestics and fights between people who’d been drinking all day. The guy must be a newbie, he thought as he chopped down through his gears, pulling over to the side of the road before he stopped. No one else would be assigned to such a dull duty on a public holiday.
Reaching into his small saddlebag, Clive had his license and papers ready by the time the car pulled up behind him. Holding them up in one hand, to the side of his body so they could be clearly seen, he tugged at the strap of his half helmet with the other. It was damn hot and the black of his helmet seemed to absorb the relentless sun now he was stopped. He saw no need to get off his bike, simply resting his helmet on the handle bars.
It wasn’t long before he heard the opening of the car door and the crunch of boots on the gravel. Staring straight ahead, Clive waved his papers. He was under no illusions what he looked like. His gray hair might be military short, but his arms were covered in tattoos and his leather vest was chapped and worn. His matching pants were patched with the odd tear and molded to his thighs like a second skin. Only his boots gleamed. Some habits were hard to break.
“Death in the family? Old lady frantic for last minute barbecue sauce?”
“Excuse me?” The officer’s voice was lower than Clive expected and contained the hint of a growl. Clive couldn’t stop himself turning to look…and then quickly wished he hadn’t. His private kink was watching uniform porn and the officer looked as if he’d just stepped out of his deepest fantasies. Taller than Clive by a good five inches, there wasn’t an inch of space between the man’s uniform and his skin. Long legs, thick thighs and a broad chest. Clive blew out a soft breath as he looked higher, noting a hard jaw, straight nose and dark brown hair that was escaping the tie the officer used to keep it off his neck.
“I was giving you an excuse for treating the road like a race track.” The officer gave a lazy grin. Clive squinted to read his name tag. Officer R. Carmichael would be starring in his fantasies later that night. “There had to be a damn good reason for the speed you were doing.”
“Er, no. No reason. Just so damn hot, you know. Thought I’d take a ride and feel the wind in my face.” Clive forced his eyes back on the road. His brain had captured enough information for his spank bank and his cock was already perking up in interest and wanted to say hello. Not a comfortable situation when sitting on a bike seat in leather pants. He had the uncontrollable urge to see if that bulge in the officer’s pants lived up to its promise.
“Do I make you uneasy?” The officer sounded amused as he stepped around into Clive’s view. “Or is something else going on?” His eyes seemed glued to Clive’s crotch as his hand ran slowly over the handlebars. “Nice bike.”
A heated flush ran up the back of Clive’s neck and his nipples beaded under his leather vest. “Thanks.” Clive cleared his throat. Blatant interest from another man in a club was one thing. Officer Carmichael wasn’t the first policeman to show a sexual interest during a routine traffic stop either. But Clive was raised in a time when actions were easily misconstrued, and he didn’t want to imagine Marly’s face if he had to miss the fireworks because Trent was bailing him out of jail. “So, are you writing me a ticket, or what?”
Officer Carmichael lifted a foot, resting it on Clive’s front tire. Clive swallowed hard. From the way the man’s pants material moved, it would seem Carmichael could easily live up to his promise. “I finish my shift in roughly ten minutes. Do you have plans later? Maybe we can share a drink?”
For a split second, Clive panicked. He’d hidden his sexuality for twenty years. Only Marly and Trent knew he swung both ways. But two other male couples were coming along later that evening to enjoy the fireworks display and besides most of his friends would be too drunk to care what he was doing later. Let’s call his bluff. Smirking, he raised his head and winked. “My men at the club are letting off fireworks later. There’s plenty of beer and meat if you’re interested. I’d lose the uniform though. We tend to be suspicious of law enforcement types.”
Instead of looking nervous the young man’s grin got wider. “That will give me plenty of time to shower and change into something more comfortable. I won’t be treading on anyone’s toes if I monopolize you for the evening, will I?”
“If that’s a backhanded way of asking if I’m single, then you’re in luck. My dance card is free this evening.”
“I’ll want longer than that.” Officer Carmichael’s eyes seemed to flicker yellow and then went dark again. “The name’s Roy.” He held out his hand which Clive took. A tingle of electricity ran from where their palms met right up his arm.
“Clive,” Clive nodded as he dropped the beefy hand. “President of the Epitaphs MC.”
Roy dropped his leg and handed Clive back his papers. “Two hours?” He asked. “That will give you time for your ride.”
“Make it three hours. I’ll see you there at eight.” There wasn’t anything incriminating held at the clubhouse, but Clive could eject the worse of the drunks before Roy arrived. For some reason he wanted to make a good impression. He was still questioning why when Roy returned to his car and he started his bike again. Suddenly, the ride lost its appeal. Learning more about the hunky officer seemed a lot more important.
/~/~/~/~/
“I found him. I found him. I found my mate at freaking last and he is such a sexy silver fox.” Roy had the commonsense to leave his happy dance until the bike disappeared out of sight and as he swung his hips and did a soft shoe shuffle across the asphalt, he’d be the first to admit he had two left feet. But the situation called for a celebration. After a hundred years of waiting, his body finally had the reactions his mom used to tell him about.
Admittedly, it’d taken a few minutes for him to realize his future was about to change forever. The Harley’s exhaust fumes lingered in the air as he’d gotten out of his car, but his bear spirit flared into life as he walked towards the bike. Roy’d been quietly pleased Clive had been facing forward at the time as his cock had surged just as quickly as his bear, and by the time he’d taken Clive’s papers, he was experiencing everything his mom explained in brilliant technicolor. The heightened senses, the way his body automatically leaned towards the older looking man and how he couldn’t get enough of the musk and honey scent coming from Clive’s skin. Roy was no stranger to the feelings of lust, but he’d have dearly loved to have Clive spread-eagled over the hood of his cruiser if he’d had half the chance, and that was a new sensation. He usually had a lot more control than that.
Driving back to his small rented house, Roy whistled a random tune as he mused over the changes he’d need to make. Yes, there was a little matter of Clive being human to overcome. If his mate had been a paranormal, he probably would have got his wish of fucking his mate on the side of the road. The Epitaph connection was also a mild concern. Roy had been in town long enough to hear the gossip others at the precinct had about the MC. There’d been some suspicions the gang were involved in gay bashing, although there’d been no new cases in months. The firearms boys were trying to make a case for gun running across state lines against the gang, but nothing had been proven there either. Roy didn’t imagine his mate was a saint by any means, but he had no worries about straightening Clive out – in the legal sense at least. On the intimate side of things, Roy secretly hoped his mate had a touch of kink – it would make their very long life together a lot more interesting. Ooh, eight o’clock couldn’t come soon enough.