36
“I forgot how good your margaritas are, Jerry.” The girl at the bar licked her lips as she slid her empty glass toward the bartender.
A prickle tracked up the back of my neck at the sound of that silky voice.
I was on my way home to bury my head in Nebraska soil and forget everything I’d seen and felt in Colorado. The four bros I’d ridden with from Denver were hanging with women at a table by the dance floor, but I wasn’t much in the mood.
Those new scars over my soul still stung.
I leaned my head lower to get a better look at the woman. One thick lock of shoulder-length dark hair hung over an eye, and she shook her head to get it out of the way. She straightened her shoulders, letting out a quick breath. “Make me another, pretty please.”
“You sure, honey?”
“Extremely sure,” came the reply. She was determined. She was getting hammered.
Three boys down the bar gawked at her as they drank, getting their engines ready to close in on her finish line. I drained my Bushmills and set the glass back on the counter, wiping at the edge of my mouth with a flick of my thumb.
Tania looked good.
I hadn’t laid eyes on her in years, but I couldn’t mistake that shiny black hair and those huge dark eyes holding court at the long bar of Dead Ringer’s Roadhouse just outside of Meager, South Dakota. I moved down the bar over to Tania as a blond guy strutted toward her. I gave him a searing get-back-into-the-hole-you-just-crawled-out-of look and he stopped short, his buddies grabbing his shirt, reeling him back in.
I bent over her shoulder, catching her gaze in the mirror behind the bar. “Fancy meeting you here.”
She jumped, twisting around, her glossy hair flying in my face. “Oh my God! Where the hell did you come from?”
“Colorado.”
She punched my shoulder and gripped my tee. “Finger!” she whispered, a grin lighting up her face.
“Actually I came from a couple of barstools down. I stopped for a drink. Been riding all night, needed a break. How about you? What the hell are you doing here? You left Chicago and living here now?”
“No, no. I had business out here, and now I’m on my way home to see my mom.” A huge smile broke out over her face as she released my shirt. “It’s good to see you.”
“Good to see you too.” I settled onto the stool next to her. “What business?”
A huge margarita slid towards Tania.
“You good, babe?” the bartender asked, glancing at me, his lips tight.
Tania waved a hand as she leaned over her new glass of booze and slurped from the frosty green top. “Yes, Jerry. I know this guy, don’t worry. He won’t bite.”
Jerry made a face. He didn’t look convinced.
“Actually, he does bite.” Tania drank more, rolling her eyes.
My head knocked back, and I let out a dry laugh. I could still laugh, and it felt fucking good. “What are you doing here by yourself?”
“Pul-leaze—I’ve been coming to Dead Ringer’s since I was in high school.” She batted her thick eyelashes at me as she drank.
“You’re here, at a known biker bar, on your own getting sloshed.”
“Is that totally unacceptable behavior for me?” She set her glass back on the bar top.
“Yeah, reckless.”
She wagged a finger at me. “You hit the nail on the head, darlin’.”
“Which nail would that be?”
“One of the many.” She laughed, her eyes darting over me. “Let me get you a drink.”
I shook my head at her as I raised my glass at Jerry. He shot into action, bringing over the bottle of Bushmills and refilling my glass.
“A bottle of brew too,” I said.
“Which would you like?” he asked.
“As local as you got.”
“Coming right up.” Jerry sprang down the bar.
“How are things?” I asked Tania.
“Still in Chicago. I was roaming around here on family business and me business. At least I like to think so.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“The me business was looking at antiques, buying, reselling. Going to garage sales, estate sales, stopping on the road whenever I notice fascinating junk piled in someone’s yard.”
“Huh. Interesting.”
“I like the scavenging, talking with the collectors, the artists. I’m good at it. Actually, I was supposed to be on this trip with this guy I’ve been seeing, but he decided to do something else. Or I should say, do someone else.”
“Asshole.”
Her black eyes flared. She was angry. “That’s all you have to say?”
“What do you want me to say?”
“I don’t know, something more!”
“Fuck him.”
“Yeah, fuck him.” She held up her glass. “Let’s drink.”
“We are.”
“Keep it coming then.” She gulped down her margarita.
“You drink. I’ll get you home. Meager’s on my way.”
“How gallant.”
I pushed aside my empty whisky glass as Jerry popped open a large bottle of a local craft brew. “Yeah, that’s me, gallant. I’d only do that kind of shit for you.”
“I’m touched.”
I chuckled. “Chicago still being good to you?”
“Still struggling for bucks, but it’s better.”
I raised my beer bottle at her. “Drink.”
She told me stories about her art dealing business struggles and recent travels through Michigan. I told her stories about my bros and their women.
“You don’t have an old lady?”
“Nah.”
“Why not? No, wait, don’t tell me—”
“Don’t you fucking say her name,” I said on a hiss, my eyes holding hers.
Her back straightened. “Okay. Well, she probably got herself a new name anyway, right?”
“She did.”
We drank in silence.
“My sister’s getting married next month.”
“Congrats.”
“I’m the maid of honor, and that’s the family reason I came out here. To try on the dress and help with the planning. I hate the stupid dress. It’s yellow. I can’t wear a yellow dress with a huge bow over my ass. Ugh, it’s so ugly. She’s doing this to me on purpose, I know it.”
“Simple solution. Wear the dress for the ceremony, the pictures, then don’t wear it to the party.”
Tania stilled, gesturing at me with her near empty glass. “That’s brilliant.” Her face dropped, and she swiped at her mouth with the back of her hand.
“You okay?”
“I don’t know these days. I’m drifting. My sister’s getting married to her first love, most of my friends are in serious relationships and making the big bucks, getting on with their lives like they’re supposed to, and—”
“Supposed to? Supposed to what? That’s your problem right there. You’re hung up on that shit word.”
“Finger, I can’t even hang onto a boyfriend. I know I’m difficult. Hard to please, can’t admit I’m wrong. I didn’t even want anything serious—I thought guys liked that. So it must be me.”
I took a swig of my icy beer.
“But when I caught Andrew in bed with Shelly the other day, I freaked. I heard them, I saw them...it was awful.” Her voice shook, her head sinking into her hand on the bar. “I didn’t think I’d care so much, but I did. I do.” She raised her head. Her eyes were wet. “Paying my bills is hard enough, trying to keep a business afloat...there has to be something I’m not doing right. Obviously, my karma is crap, and I’m fucking doomed. I should just give up.”
“You never fucking give up.”
“Easy for you to say.”
“You think?” I shot her a look.
“No, no. I’m sorry.” Tania jumped up on her toes and threw her arms around me. She nestled her face into my neck and sighed, her body pressing into mine. “Forgive me.”
She smelled good. Of pricey perfume, of clean. Her skin was warm against mine and had my pulse drumming a little faster. Tania’s skin, her skin...all three of us in that bed came running back to me, flashing behind my eyes.
I wrapped my arms around her.
“They’ll be other chances, other assholes,” I murmured.
“Is that what you tell yourself when you look in the mirror every day?” she asked.
“I don’t look in the fucking mirror.”
A sad smile clung to one side of her mouth. “Well, you know what I see?” She leaned in close to me. “Hurt, pain, anger, resentment. And love. So much fucking love,” she whispered in my ear, her lips grazing my skin, her fingers at my neck.
“Shut the fuck up.” I tightened my hold on her, liking the feel of her pressed against me, sharing her frustrations with me.
“Tell me it’s been easy without her. Tell me you’ve forgotten her,” she said.
“I don’t want to forget. I can’t cut her out.”
Tania slid down my body, releasing me. “You two...you were my idols. My sure thing.” Averting her gaze, she grabbed my beer bottle and drained it.
I brushed the hair from her face, my fingers lingering on her neck, her shoulder, catching in her sleeve, pulling it. A shiny black bra strap revealed itself. Tania eyed me. I held her gaze, the question, the idea.
“There’s a motel across the highway,” I said.
Her eyes narrowed. “I know.”
“That Andrew any good in the sack?”
She let out a curt brittle laugh. “He was...fine.”
“Let’s go,” I said.
Her face reddened.
I tugged on the black strap. “You want to fuck? You want me to give it to you?”
Her shoulder jerked under my hand. “Shut up,” she whispered roughly, her dark brows twisting.
“What do you want, Tan? You. No past, no future. Just right the hell now. Tell me what you want.”
“Stop. It.”
“Why? Stop what? Wanting?” I slanted my head. “I want you. Now, you tell me. Come on. I dare you.”
Her jaw slackened, her heavy gaze on mine.
“Say it.”
“Finger...”
“Say it now.”
“Yeah, I want it. I want it from you.” She pressed her lips together. “But somehow this feels like cheating.”
“On who? Andy and Shelley?”
“Oh, geez, come on—”
“Tania, she’s married.”
“She what?”
“You heard me.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, really. And pregnant.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh. Shit. I’m sorry. I—”
“Let’s get out of here.”
“Finger, wait…”
“What do you want, Tania? You want pretty words and slippery suggestions? You want me to tell you how those cut off shorts you’re wearing have been turning me on since the second I saw you? They have. You want me to say I remember how your tits feel in my mouth? I do. You want me to say I want to make you come on my cock all night in that dirt bag motel? Most definitely.”
“Slow the hell down—”
I grabbed her upper arm and yanked her in close to me. “Tell me. Now. Right this very second, do you want to feel alive? Do you want to feel something good? Because you know I can make you feel good.” I kissed her, and it all came surging back: the grasping in the dark, the moans of satisfaction, tongues and flesh and sweat everywhere. “And you do the same for me.”
Her gaze darted to my lips. Her breathing picked up.
“This ain’t some trashy anonymous pickup, if that’s your hang-up here,” I continued. “We’ve done this before. We know each other.”
“Yes, but—”
I grabbed her hand and planted a kiss on one finger after the other, my tongue lashing at her skin. Her eyes narrowed as if she were in pain, and she let out a jagged gasp.
“Where’s the fucking but, Tan? Why the fuck not?” Goosebumps rose on the skin of her arm under my grip.
A pact. A goal to forget, live, exist in the now.
“Hey, everything all right here?” Jerry, the bartender’s stiff voice sliced between us.
Tania’s shoulders dropped and she licked her lips, her eyes remaining on mine. “Everything’s good. Real good.” She turned to Jerry. “What do we owe you?”
I threw a fifty dollar bill on the bar top. “Keep the change.”
Tania and I strode out of Dead Ringer’s. We were on a mission.
She got in her car and I got on my bike, and we went to the motel across the way where I got us a room. We shed our clothes and I made her forget any second thoughts, any rights, wrongs, supposed to’s that were taking up space in her head. I made her body respond to mine, and got gasps and curses and moans in return.
I made sure we both enjoyed it.
I didn’t have to bother with small talk, or waste time being annoyed that she expected more from me afterward like some of the girls I’d been with recently, because Tania didn’t. And she knew me, not the Flames officer. This was blunt. Straightforward. And it felt fucking good.
To be with Tania again. To fuck the ghost of Rena, Serena, Ashley, Lenore out from under me. To fuck past the disappointment and that never-ending ache with someone who knew. Yeah, she was with me and Tania on that bed. I searched for her on that bed. And Tania? She shot the finger at her disappointments as they fell to the wayside. A gloom hung in the air of that motel room, but we both worked hard to ignore it.
Tania’s body, her scent, her taste, her sounds were a pillow muffling the noise in my head, but I was still pissed as hell that Serena wasn’t here with us, with me.
I was looking for her, letting go of her, spitting at her.
All at the same fucking time.
I ripped the third condom wrapper and fitted myself up. Lifting up Tania’s hips, I got her up on all fours.
“Whoa, what are you doing—” her fatigued voice came from somewhere over the mattress.
I clenched an ass cheek, and my red imprint appeared on her flesh, my balls twitching at the sight. “Did you let Andy in this ass?”
She let out an exhausted laugh. “He wouldn’t have known what to do.”
Using my cum and her wetness as lube, I fingered her ass. “Touch your clit.” She did it, her ass rocking up.
She relaxed again, and I entered her carefully, pulsing inside her, driving deeper each time.
Her body shuddered at my assault. “Oh my G…”
After, I rolled a joint, and we got high and drifted off to sleep.
And I slept.
No usual round of nightmares: the sting of the knife, those eyes, hands holding me down, those blue green eyes locked on mine across the room, that voice calling me. That sour taste of white mushy bread. That mouth. Scrib’s laugh.
I woke up with a start. Was it morning? Still night?
Tania was curled up against my back, her breaths warm on my skin. The hotel room chair and table just beyond the bed came into soft focus, and my pulse slowed.
There was no one here from my club checking on me. Who I was with, who I was talking to, who I was fucking. This was only me and Tania. My neck relaxed back into the pillow, and I turned to my side, letting out a breath.
Tania’s lips grazed my back, dragging over the welts that had now hardened into scars. “Is this okay?”
“Yeah,” I replied. It was good, which surprised me. I didn’t go for affection, for quiet moments.
I’d only had that once before, with one person. And that’s where that was going to stay.
“You good?” I asked, turning my head slightly from the pillow.
“I’m good.”
I squeezed her arm and relaxed my muscles against her, letting her explore me. I wasn’t going to pretend it was Serena holding me like I’d done with the women I’d fucked at the concert campgrounds. Serena’s sweat on my skin. Serena’s mouth on me. No, I was here with Tania, and I liked it. The stinging had eased. No reason to cut and run. Tania was my sugar making the medicine go down.
“If I’m ever around Chicago, I’ll call you.”
“You don’t have to feed me lines, Finger. Not you. Come on. I’m not some star-struck biker groupie chick.”
“I’m serious.” I turned over, facing her.
Tania’s hands fell to my chest. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying, if I call you, and you’re free, meet up with me. I’m not saying dinner and a movie, roses in hand.”
She let out a laugh. “Oh, I don’t want roses from you. Anyhow, I’m done with the roses and the dating bullshit.”
I gripped her ass and her hands slid down to my abs, to my hips, my thighs.
I grinned, pressing against her. “If you want a good fuck without the aforementioned bullshit, you call me, and I’ll call you. Either way, we’ll meet up.”
“I’ve got plenty of traveling coming up actually, so, we might cross paths more often than not across the country.”
“I’m always on the road. I’ll make it happen.” I was usually on a run, taking jobs others didn’t want, because they were dangerous, because they had families. I didn’t.
She only grinned. She liked how that sounded. Her eyes darted down my body, and a blush rose on her skin from her face, her throat, all the way down the pale skin of her chest.
I raised her chin. “You don’t have to be shy or uncomfortable with me.”
“I’m trying not to be.” She stroked my hardening cock. Her touch grew tense, rough.
“That’s it.” My voice came out low. “Yeah, fuck. That’s it.”
She kept working me. Her touch, the feel of her tits brushing over my flesh were getting me there fast.
“Fuck everything, Tania. Go on, say it,” I rasped.
“Fuck everything,” came her breathy reply.
My thumb brushed over her lower lip. “Now suck me off.”
She slid down my body and licked my tip, that tongue of hers extended, licking some more.
A growl rose in my chest. “What did I say?”
Her mouth finally took me in. All the way in.
My hips rocked up. “Harder.”
Only dirty sugar made that medicine go down.