CHAPTER ONE

3 months earlier

 

“Okay, how do I look?” I prop my hands on my hips and strike a pose.

“Fucking awful,” my best friend, Aubree, says through a laugh.

“Thanks,” I chirp.  “So do you.”

We’re on our way to a fancy dress party—Trailer Park Chic—and we both look absolutely ridiculous.  I’m wearing beige stilettos with sky-blue miniskirt with flowers printed on it.  A low-cut, light-blue wraparound top that exposes my hot-pink bra and an obnoxiously fake beige leather jacket covers my top half.  My hair is curled in large, loose waves, my makeup is plastered on, and I have huge fake gold hoops in my ears that I just know are going to leave that disgusting green tinge on my lobes.  Still, I’m rocking this look.

Aubree twirls around in front of me.  “Ready to go?”

“Yep.”  I take in her super short denim miniskirt that she has fashioned from a pair of shorts, her neon yellow tube-top that shows more boob than it covers, and the see-thru platform stripper heels on her feet.  Her hair, dyed purple for the occasion, is pulled into a high ponytail on top of her head, and her makeup matches mine.

We are the definition of trailer park chic.

We decide to Uber it to the compound where the party is, so by the time we arrive, we’re both feeling slightly tipsy from the half bottle of wine we sneakily consumed on the drive.  I follow Aubree out of the car, give the driver a cheery smile and wave, and then we walk toward the huge chain-link gate.  A lone young guy is standing there, wearing tattered jeans and a black leather jacket.  His hair is overly long and oily, his beard, scruffy, and his cheeks, sunken.

“Are you sure this is cool?” I whisper alarmingly to Aubree.

“Chill, babe!  It’s totally cool.  My stepdad’s best friend is the president.”

“Okay,” I sigh.  “If you’re sure.”

“Go on in, ladies,” the dude says, jerking his head and giving us a leery once-over.  A shiver of revulsion skates down my spine.  Ick.

“Let’s go get a drink,” Aubree suggests.

“Absolutely,” I agree.

Inside the brick building, my eyes widen.  The area is cleared of furniture except a pool table, an extremely worn couch, and a box television from the 80s.  Loud music pumps from speakers I can’t see, and a mass of bodies dressed just like Aubree and me are dancing, drinks in hand, makeup smeared from sweat.

“Tokka!” Aubree squeals, startling me.  She lets go of where our arms were linked and runs toward an older man with greying hair and an equally grey beard.  He opens his arms and she collides with his chest, hugs him, and smacks a kiss on his scruffy cheek.

“Oh, darlin’ girl.  Been too long since I saw your pretty face.”

“It has.”  Aubree pouts.  “I’ve been so busy with work, I haven’t been home for Thursday night poker in ages.”

“I get it, just don’t forget that work isn’t everything,” he advises.

“Oh, my gosh, I’m so rude!  Tokka, this is my bestie, Olive.  Olive, meet my stepdad’s mate, and President of the Devil’s Dust, Tokka.”

“Nice to meet you,” I say through a smile.  I extend my hand and he takes my small palm in his meaty one.  Giving me a grin and a wink, he releases my hand and greets me.

“You two have fun, but don’t go gettin’ into trouble.”

“Us? Trouble?” Aubree has the audacity to look affronted and I can’t help but smile.

“You forget I’ve know you since you took your first breath, girl,” Tokka says.  He shakes his head and disappears into the crowd.

“He seems nice,” I mention casually as we find a spot at the bar.

“He’s like an honorary uncle to me, I guess.  He’s scary to most people, but to me, he’s a big teddy bear.”

“What can I get ya’s?” the guy behind the bar asks.

I quickly scan the shelf behind him where bottles of liquor sit.

“I’ll have a vodka and orange juice… Do you have orange juice?” I ask, second-guessing my order.

“Got lemonade or Coke,” he replies.

“I’ll take the lemonade, I guess.”

He turns his attention to Aubree.

“Jack and Coke, gorgeous,” she purrs.

“Oh, my god, you’re such a hussy!” I whisper, grinning when he turns away to fix our drinks.

“Guilty,” she replies through a giggle.

We are handed our drinks, and I take a sip.  At the same time, the hairs on my neck stand up, and for a moment, I’m not sure if it’s from the alcohol or something else.  But, as I turn around, my eyes instantly find his amongst the crowd.  He’s looking right at me, so deeply I feel as if he’s seeing into my soul, assessing my demons and contemplating whether I’m worth his time.  I feel vulnerable.  Bared naked.

Even though the room is packed full of people, the space immediately around him is clear, like he has an invisible barrier surrounding him, warning people away from his personal space.

Top to toe, he’s wearing black. 

Black cap.

Black tee.

Faded, ripped in the knees, black jeans.  A silver buckle on his belt.

Heavy black boots.

I bet his undies are black… if he’s even wearing any.  The thought of him being commando under those jeans has my mouth watering.

Piercing eyes set on me in a narrowed gaze.  I can’t tell the colour from here, but it wouldn’t surprise me if they were black, too.  At the least, they’re a deep blue.

Tanned skin.

Even his beard is black.  It’s not long, not short either, but scruffy in a way that makes you think it isn’t unkempt, but actually meant to look that way.

Damn, he’s beautiful.

No, not beautiful.  Damn sexy.

I swallow a lungful of air, not realising until now that I hadn’t breathed since I noticed him.

“Who the fuck is that?” Aubree whispers.

“I don’t know,” I whisper back.  But he’s about to change my life.

 

 

 

“I’ll go get us some more drinks,” Aubree announces.

“I’m going to the loo,” I tell her, fighting to keep my eyes from closing in the half-shut way that means I’m well past tipsy and almost crossing the line of outright drunk.

“Through that door.”  Aubree points, and like a delayed reaction, I manage to turn my eyes that way and locate the door.

“Gotcha.  See you back here in five.”  I take two slow steps and then turn to amend my statement. “Or maybe, like, ten.”

Aubree giggles and saunters away.  How is she less drunk than me?  She’s so stable on her heels, where I’m using all my energy to keep upright.  It’s possible she’s as wonky as me and my blurry vision and drunken brain is making her look like she’s sauntering.  She stumbles and catches someone by the shoulder to stop herself from falling.  Turns out she wasn’t sauntering at all.  She was wobbling.  I laugh to myself as I make my way to the bathroom.  I’m having such a great night.  This group of people is awesome.

Thankfully, I don’t have to wait to go, so five minutes later, I’m at the basin, washing my hands and checking my makeup, making sure the thick lashings of mascara haven’t smeared too much.

“Hey, girl!  Nice moves out there.”

“Thanks.”  I turn, grinning at the girl.  She holds her hand up and I high-five her before leaving the bathroom.  See what I mean? Awesome!  And they’re nice, too.

I finally make it back to Aubree and take my drink from her.

“Cheers,” I shout, clanking my red solo cup with hers and sloshing some of the vodka over the sides.  Whoops. 

“Cheers.”  Aubree and I both sip our drinks, then her eyes widen.  “I love this song!” she yells.  Gripping my elbow, she drags me out onto the dancefloor.  We find a clear spot and bust out our best moves to Kid Rock’s ‘All Summer Long’.

The instant the hairs on my neck spring to life, I immediately know he’s near.  I swirl my hips around, turning my body in a circle.  A subtle yet effective manoeuvre for sussing him out.

He’s leaning up against the far wall, his legs casually crossed at the ankles, one hand loosely holding a bottle of beer, the other tucked into the pocket of his jeans.

“He definitely wants in your knickers,” Aubree says as she giggles into my ear.

“I definitely want him in my knickers,” I counter.

“Go get him, girl!”

Bolstered by her encouragement, but mostly from the copious amounts of alcohol in my system, I walk toward him.  Carefully, with one well thought-out foot placed in front of the other so I don’t stumble, I make my way to him.

“Nice moves.”

Oh god.  His voice is husky but with a smooth after tone.  Like melted chocolate-coated sandpaper.

I swallow hard and attempt an unfazed smile.  Breezy.  Cool.  That’s me.

“Oh, that.”  I wave my hand.  “That was just me getting warmed up.  You should see me when I really get going.”

It’s official.

I’m a fucking idiot.

“Now that’s something I’d like to see,” he murmurs.

“Why don’t you join me out there and I’ll show you?”  I twirl a strand of my hair around my index finger as I flirt with him.

His eyes narrow as he looks at me, contemplating whether or not to take me up on the offer.

“You’re on.”

My heart stutters in my chest for a split second before excitement floods my veins.  He takes my hand and leads me out onto the floor.  As we pass by Aubree, she gives me wide eyes and an even wider smile.  I grin back and then squeak a little in surprise when he suddenly spins me around quickly before pulling me against his chest.  My arms instinctively go around his neck.  His muscular arms wind around my waist, holding me firm.  The top of my head rests just below his chin, allowing me take full advantage of inhaling his leather and spice scent.  And I do.

“What’s your name?” I shout over the music.

“Dek,” he answers.

“I’m Olive.”

He gives me a heart-fluttering grin, and I can’t help but smile back.

When Credence Clearwater Revival’s ‘Midnight Special’ begins to thump through the room, he threads one thick thigh between my legs, and holding me close, he swivels his hips in time with the music.  Grinding against me.

Holy fuck, the biker can dance!

One song bleeds into another as we move together effortlessly, and by the time Bon Jovi’s ‘Livin’ On A Prayer’ fills the room, a thin sheen of sweat coats my body, my breath is coming in short, sharp pants, and I just know my makeup is smudged.  But I couldn’t care less.  I’m having the time of my life.

“You thirsty?” he asks.  His raspy voice sends a delectable shiver down my spine as he speaks close to my ear.

“Yeah,” I reply with a nod, suddenly realizing how parched I am.

He leads me toward the bar, and as we walk, I look around for Aubree.  I spot her dancing with a group of people, a smile on her face, her arms waving about in the air.

“What can I get ya’s?” The guy behind the bar asks.

“Bottle of Great Northern,” Dek replies before turning his attention to me.

“Vodka lemonade, please.”

We take our drinks, and with his hand firmly clasped with mine, Dek walks toward to a door with an illuminated Exit sign above it.

“Figured we could both use some fresh air,” he mentions.

Cool night breeze hits my face and I suck in a deep breath.  “God, that feels good.”

“So, Miss Olive, what’s a pretty girl like you doing at the Devil’s Dust Clubhouse?”  As he speaks, he gestures to a bench seat.  I sit down, cross my legs, and angle my body toward him.

“I came with my best friend, Aubree.  Her stepdad is mates with the president here,” I explain.  “What about you?  Are you a member here?” My eyes dart down to his leather vest before returning to his face.

“Kinda.”

He doesn’t elaborate, and I get the feeling he doesn’t want to talk about it further, so I don’t press him.

“Sooo.” I drag the word out, suddenly feeling all kinds of awkward.

“You from here, Olive?”

God, the way my name rolls off his tongue is like a prayer.

I nod.  “Yeah.  Well, I’m from Pine Creek. Do you know where that is?” He nods, so I continue.  “I moved to Katherine a few years ago to study, and now I work here.”

“What do you do?”

“I’m an ultrasound tech.” I smile automatically because I really do love my job.  “What about you, Dek?  What do you do?  I imagine riding a beefy bike around all day doesn’t pay the bills.”

“Be fucking awesome if it did,” he quips through a grin.  “I’m a mechanic by trade.”

“That’s cool.  Show me your hands.”  He extends his right hand to me, palm facing upward.  My fingers raze over his skin, committing every calloused and rough inch to memory.  “Your hands remind me of my dad’s,” I muse quietly.  “When I was little, dad would stroke my back before I fell asleep, and the scratchy feeling of them always made me feel safe.  Silly, I know,” I add, feeling just that.  But, it’s true.  My dad is a farmer—has been all of his life—and he has the working man’s hands to prove it.

“Is he dead?” Dek asks quietly.

“Oh, no!” I shake my head rapidly.

“Ah, shit.  Sorry.  Just the way you were talking…”

I flush.  “I guess it did sound like that.  No, he’s very much alive.  He and my mum live in Pine Creek.”

Dek and I talk for a while longer, and he tells me he lost his dad in a car accident when he was just ten years old.  Then, just three years ago, he lost his mum to cancer, a disease which she had fought, and beat, twice before.  The third time it came back with a vengeance, and six weeks after a routine scan found the lump in her brain, she was gone.  My heart aches for the pain he must endure every day.  I can’t imagine living without my parents.

To lighten the mood a little, I tell Dek all about my family in Pine Creek, and the trouble my younger cousins get into.  We venture inside only to refill our drinks at the bar, and then we go right back outside to the bench and continue talking.  As time passes, people begin to leave and the music gets turned down just barely.  Aubree wobbles over, giggling, telling me she’s found a bed for the night.  I watch her walk back inside with a guy until I can no longer see her, then I turn my attention back to Dek, who is telling me about how he got into motorcycle mechanics after he left school.

“I’ll never forget the first time I rode a bike.  It was Yamaha 250 dirt bike. It wasn’t even mine, but gunning that throttle as I flew down the A49 highway, it felt like I’d finally found what I didn’t even know I was looking for.”

“Wow,” I whisper.  “That’s really beautiful.”

Comfortable silence envelops us as we finish the remainder of our drinks.  When the hairs on my neck stand once again, and my blood flushes through my veins, I know he is looking at me.  Slowly, I turn my head to see him watching me.

“I want you, Olive,” he whispers in the darkness.  “But, I’ve got to be honest; I’m not in a position to give you anything more than tonight.”  He is brutally honest, laying it all out there.  “My life’s a mess and I’ve got no time for a woman.  So, if you’re looking for something more, say so right now.  Or I’m going to kiss you, then I’m going to fuck you all night.”

His hand cups my cheek and my eyes flutter closed.

“Just tonight,” I whisper back.  My eyes are still closed when I feel his breath sweep across my lips before he makes contact.  Soft and slow at first, he nibbles the sides of my mouth before his tongue traces my plump flesh.  I wrap my hands around his neck and our kiss turns frenzied.  He stands, moving to position himself between my legs.  He grips my hips with his strong hands and tugs me toward him.  Our bodies clash together and I feel the thick ridge of his erection against the tender flesh between my thighs.  My body throbs with excitement.

With want.

With need.

Dek’s hand moves from my waist to find my bare thigh, and then he skates his fingers upward, under my skirt, to find my damp panties.  He moves the fabric aside and strokes his finger down my hot slit.

“Oh, god,” I tremble.  He growls in approval as he shifts me forward on the table with his free hand before sliding a finger inside me.  His thumb finds my clit, his tongue sweeps inside my mouth, and he kisses and finger-fucks me until I’m whimpering his name and shuddering through my orgasm. 

He carries me to a secluded spot beside the warehouse.  Against the wall, he shoves my skirt up, tears my panties off, and plunges inside me with exquisite precision. 

“Dek,” I moan.  “Dek.”

“Jesus, woman, your pussy is fuckin’ tight,” he groans.

I squeeze my muscles around him harder, loving the way his jaw clenches in result.  He fucks me hard, our skin slapping together in perfect harmony.  His mouth finds my nipple through my shirt and he bites down just hard enough for a delicious tremor to skitter down my spine.

“I’m going to cum again,” I whisper urgently.

“I’m goin’ with ya,” he grits out.

Dek fucks me twice more before we fall asleep, utterly sated from the incredible sex, deliciously buzzed from the alcohol, and content at what a great night the party was.  In the morning, I wake before him, squinting as the sun attacks my eyes.  We slept on a comfortable patch of lush green grass.  I can’t help but laugh.  Not wanting the awkwardness that usually accompanies the morning after a one-night stand, I softly kiss Dek’s forehead, and then leave him sleeping.

I meet up with Aubree as I pour some coffee in a cardboard mug from the kitchen.

“Ready to go?” she whispers, mindful of all the people littering the warehouse, still passed out from the night before.

“Yeah.  You?”

She nods, already scheduling an Uber on her phone.  “Let’s get out of here. I need a shower and proper coffee.”

As we exit through the heavy chain-link fence, I exhale loudly, stretching my arms above my head.  Despite a niggling headache and tired eyes, I feel great.  I know it has a lot to do with the four orgasms Dek gave me, but I also think my content, carefree feeling is because I just had a night of amazing, no-strings-attached sex.  it was the best sex I’ve ever had, and even though a small part of me is bummed knowing I’ll never have awesome sex with Dek again, most of me is happy because it happened.  I loved it, and I’m moving on with my life, knowing I’ll never see him again, but I’ll always have the exquisite memories.