VEE. It had been a month since Michael and I started having sex, and my life had changed completely. My focus at work was second to none. My level of tension was non-existent. My father was probably going to be released from the hospital soon, and I felt as if I was on top of the world. Actually being in a relationship with Ripp was so much more rewarding than I thought anything could ever be, and he was proving to be the biggest twelve year old kid on the planet. He was nothing more than a huge goofball who was loving, caring, witty and protective. The only problem, if there was one, was he instantly turned to a monster when someone crossed him. I figured we may need to work on his temper at some point in time.

“It’s been three fucking weeks Ripper,” Kelsey screamed.

“It ain’t been three weeks. God damn, give a guy a break,” Michael responded.

“You get no more breaks. You’re fighting before this god damned rally. You’re going to turn into a fucking bum. A thirty year old retired fucking bum,” Kelsey hollered as he pointed at Michael.

“Damn it, boss, what did I tell you about pointing at me,” Ripp said as he swung his glove at Kelsey’s finger.

“What did I tell you about having her in the ring? And you better not be fucking her, losing all your damned stamina and strength. Son-of-a-bitch, Ripper,” Kelsey sighed loudly as he finished speaking.

“She’s got ears, boss. She can fuckin’ hear you talkin’ shit. I teach here, remember? The kid, Austin? I’ve been training him. And now, I’m training her. So go fuck off old man. Go eat some of those Tums you have in the locker room and settle that stomach before you have an ulcer,” Ripp laughed.

“You go fuck of. You gave me ulcers ten years ago, Ripp. Maybe I’ll just make you a full time trainer if you don’t want to fight,” Kelsey screamed over his shoulder as he turned toward the exit.

“And turn off the god damned lights when you leave,” he hollered as he reached for the door handle.

“I always do boss,” Mike screamed across the gym.

“Good night, Vee!” he waved as he opened the door.

“Night, Kelsey,” I hollered.

Kelsey was one of the nicest men I had ever met. Shane and Mike admired him greatly, and he admired them as well. He didn’t scream much at Shane, but he sure screamed at Michael. It made sense, as Ripp was considerably wilder than Shane and would rather fight bare knuckles matches than about anything; because the pay was better. The thought of it angered Kelsey, and if Ripp wasn’t fighting at the gym at least once a month, Kelsey was angry with him.

Ripp was a favorite of the fans and drew quite a crowd to the gym. Since Shane had signed to fight for the championship, he no longer actually fought at the gym, and only sparred against Ripp and another fighter who came in from Houston from time-to-time. Most of Shane’s sparing matches were closed door events, not even open to the public. Shane had become quite a celebrity in Austin, and keeping his training and fighting style a secret was becoming difficult. As I leaned against the ropes with my gloves at my side, Mike stepped into the ring.

Seeing Ripp in shorts, gloves and no shirt was more than any woman could prepare for. Regardless of whether or not he was fighting or had a fight scheduled, he never missed a workout. Simply seeing his rippled stomach made me wet. His massive chest flared as he took a breath, and he often made his pectoral muscles jump up and down to tease me when we were fucking. He knew it made me melt when he did it. Topped off with his smoothly shaved head and tattoos, he was a walking aphrodisiac.

And he was mine.

“So, the ROT rally starts here next week, you ready?” he asked.

“Absolutely. Are we done training?” I responded as I pushed myself off the ropes.

“Well, we’d been at it for damned near two hours when he showed up screaming,” he laughed.

I absolutely loved being on the back of the motorcycle, and enjoyed it as much as riding in the Chevelle. The car was a totally different pleasure, but it was a pleasure none-the-less. The bike was a seven hundred pound vibrator. I could almost climax riding on it.

“Okay, let’s call it a day. It’s Sunday and I have next week off,” I paused, “let’s go eat something light and get some sleep. I’m beat.”

“Alright. Let’s do it,” he said as he held the ropes.

As I stepped through the ropes, I heard it. A thundering rumble from outside the gym, getting increasingly louder. I looked toward the door as it felt like the walls were beginning to shake.

“What in the world is going on?” I asked as I stepped onto the floor.

“Sounds like bikes. A lot of em,” he responded as he looked up toward the door.

The noise increased until it sounded like it was in the gym. I’d heard motorcycles before, but this sounded like an entire motorcycle gang was pulling into the parking lot. The thundering continued. As the hair on my arms stood up, I could actually feel the rumble. In a matter of seconds, it stopped.

“Well, with the rally starting it’s hard to say, babe. Just stay close to me. Probably people looking for that fucking Dekk,” Michael said as we walked toward the door.

One problem with the gym was the lack of windows. For reasons of privacy, I’m sure, the facility had no windows. It was an old metal building which had at some time been converted to a gym, and the perimeter walls had no windows. There were windows in the building, but they were in the offices, not in the gym itself. As we continued to walk across the floor toward the door which opened into the parking lot, it opened.

The parking lot was full of motorcycles.

“Holy shit, looks like about twenty or more. Jesus Christ,” Ripp said as a man slowly walked into the gym.

He was tall, lean and muscular. His arms were covered in several tattoos, and he appeared to be shirtless, but was wearing a motorcycle club leather vest with patches on it. Two other men stood behind him on the sidewalk.

“What can I do for ya, brother? We’re closed, just locking up,” Ripp said as we walked up to the door.

“Stay behind me, babe,” he whispered over his shoulder.

“Okay,” I responded as I stepped behind him.

“Well, we rode into town for the ROT. Saw in the flyer for the rally you were having fights over the weekend. It said there were limited spots. We were at the bar on the next street up, and I made a bet with the President. Kind of like to get a fight in, just to say I did it. I ain’t fought since the Corps. To tell you the truth, we didn’t think anyone would be here. We were just going to see if we could find the place and saw the scoot in the lot. You ride?” he asked.

“Yep,” Ripp responded.

“So, there any spots left?” the man asked.

“Yeah, we got some paperwork to fill out in the office, but it’s locked. Can you come back in the morning?” Ripp asked.

The first man nodded and turned to the side as another man walked into the gym. The second man was huge. His hair was dark and he had a beard which his facial features. No differently than the first man, he was also wearing a biker club style leather vest. As he looked around the gym, the first man spoke again. As he began to talk, I noticed he had a Marine Corps tattoo on his arm.

“Yeah, we’ll be back in the morning. You save me two spots? One of the other fellas said he’ll fight if there’s another spot. Kind of an inside bet with the club. Bragging rights, you know how it is,” he said.

“Yep,” Ripp said, “I’ll tell the boss. His name’s Kelsey. There’s at least two left for sure, ain’t had much traffic on it yet. What’s your name?”

“My name’s Alec Jacob. Don’t really go by that. You ride, so call me Train or A-Train,” he said as he held his hand out.

“I’m Mike Ripton, call me Ripp. Pleasure to meet you, A-Train,” Ripp said as he held his gloved hand in the air and shrugged.

“Alright. Well, it’s a nice place you have here, Ripp. We’ll leave you to it. Appreciate ya,” he said as he nodded his head and slapped the big bearded man on the shoulder.

As they turned and walked out to the parking lot, I looked through the door before he pulled it closed. At least two dozen bikes were in the lot, the majority of which had leather vest wearing members of their club sitting on them.

“Wow, that was scary for a second,” I sighed.

“Awwe, just some fella’s in from out of town lookin’ for a fight babe. It’s kinda what bikers do; ride, fuck and fight,” he laughed as we walked to the locker room.

There was no doubt Michael liked to fuck. No doubt. But adding a weekend of fighting, a few hundred thousand bikes and bikers…

Fucking, fighting and riding on the motorcycle had become my three most favorite things to do, ever.

Ever.