Landon
If the house is rockin’, don’t come knockin’.
The house is surely rocking off the hinges tonight. The whole place reeks of cheap whiskey and cigarettes and the heady, musky tang of sex. Death metal music rips through the speakers and raucous cries of laughter can be heard through the thin walls.
My house always makes the best party house.
A huge Fuck the World poster hangs above my bed. On top of my bare mattress, I hold Kristi, one of the local girls. She always hangs around Blacktop Chaos, hoping to score. Tonight, she’s gotten her wish.
“Landon,” she moans. “Please, baby, don’t tease me.”
I ignore her, letting my tongue slip between her moist pink folds, finding her clit hard and engorged. I flick my tongue against it teasingly, then lick soft circles around it.
She starts to whimper.
“Baby, please, I need to come. I need you inside me.”
“Not yet,” I breathe hotly into her sex. I don’t want to fuck her just yet. I want to play with her a while.
So I can pretend she’s someone else.
I don’t know why my mind has been doing this to me lately. It’s been like this for a few months now—whoever I’m in bed with becomes her.
Vivian Grayson.
My boss’s daughter. The one woman I can’t have, who’s completely off limits. The one woman in the world I swore I’d never touch.
Maybe it’s just plain old human nature. My mother always said we only want what we can’t have.
But fuck, do I seem to want Vivian.
I hold Kristi open for my own scrutiny and pleasure. I love examining a woman—how wet she gets, the way she contracts for me. Kristi does have a pretty pussy, despite the fact that I know she’s fucked at least half of the guys in the MC. Even though Kristi’s supposed to be a mama for the whole gang, the other members have seemed to defer to me and have left her alone lately. She’s basically my property now.
For the umpteenth time, as I stare into Kristi’s clenching vagina, I wonder what Vivian’s would look like. Would it be tight and wet and aching for my cock?
Kristi’s so wet for me the tops of her thighs are glossed with her own moisture.
“Oh, Landon, please,” she moans a second time. “Fuck it, baby. Stop looking at it and fuck it. Fuck my pussy hard.”
I’m horny as fuck. “Gladly,” I tell her. Harshly, I pull her towards me and turn her body to the side, lifting one of her legs in the air. Then I plunge my cock deep inside her.
I can feel a ripple of pleasure course through her body. Kristi cries out in appreciation as I plunge in and out of her, marking my territory.
When I close my eyes, Vivian’s face flashes in my mind.
I can’t stop the thoughts that come into my head, the pictures that play through my mind. I’m not making love to Kristi. I’m with Vivian, driving deep and hard into her body, making her scream and moan and convulse as I claim her.
“Grab my hair, Landon,” Kristi screams. I give her what she wants, but it’s really Vivian’s silky light brown hair I’m gripping in my hand, using it to steer as I navigate the tight, wet ocean of her body.
It just doesn’t make any fucking sense. I’ve never been attracted to sweet, innocent girls like Vivian Grayson. I like a woman like I like a bike—a little worn in. I want a woman who can party and fuck, who can ride, who knows how to please a man, who walks with confidence and a sexy sway to her hips.
Not a girl like Vivian. Shy and kind and…well, just plain good. The kind of girl who would stop on the side of the road when she sees a hurt animal. The kind of girl who pays for elderly folks’ meals at the diner before they can snatch their own check from the hand of the waitress. The kind of girl who would never be caught dead with someone like me.
Suddenly the door barges open. It’s Daub, with a topless redhead in one hand and a beer in the other.
Daub’s never been too bright. He got his nickname by once eating a whole batch of pot brownies. He got so high some of the gang members had to drag him into bed because he couldn’t even move. I can’t even remember what his real name is, but it doesn’t matter now.
“Sorry, Landon,” he says drunkenly. His face contorts until he’s looking seriously afraid that I’ll kick his ass. “Didn’t know you were in here.”
Even though it’s his birthday and the celebration is all for him, I’m still pissed. “Well, it’s my room,” I bark at him, still lodged deep inside Kristi. “Go figure.”
The girl on Daub’s arm giggles. He turns to her and yells, “Shut up, bitch!” Then he grabs her arm and stumbles away from the doorway, still clutching his beer.
That’s just how we bikers are. Women are basically just holes in our world.
At that moment, my cell phone rings.
“Hold on,” I tell Kristi, slipping from within her with a satisfying plopping sound.
“Nooo!” Kristi reached for me, her hands gripping me loosely around the waist. As gently as I can, I push her back down on the bed.
Sure, I was in the middle of some good fuckin’. But I can’t ignore this call. That would be dangerous.
It’s Blade.
“Landon, man. Check it out. I overheard at The Croc about someone planning an attack on Vivian.”
Suddenly I feel nauseous. My hands start to feel cold and numb and the world seems to spin around me.
“How the fuck did you find out about this?”
“The guy was drunk off his ass, man. Said there was a plan to kidnap her.”
“Jesus fucking Christ.”
“Hey, I’m at headquarters. Boss’s here. He wants to talk to you.”
“Put him on.”
I get a little tightness in my stomach when I know I’m about to speak to my boss. Steel Grayson is a powerful man, and one whom I both fear and respect. He’s also like a father to me.
And it doesn’t help that I’ve just been fucking someone and pretending she’s his daughter.
Steel took me in when I was fifteen years old and let one of the club’s old ladies care for me. Her name was Fiona. She was a sweet, beautiful woman who craved children of her own but couldn’t have them. She tried her best to be kind and gentle to me, but I was already created in the mold of pure evil.
My mom was a drunk and a meth head who was going to send me to a foster home. She’d been one of Blacktop Chaos’s mamas in the past. I think she might even have been Steel’s girl for a while. Maybe he actually cared about the dumb whore. But instead of me going off to foster care, he gave me a home and a new mom and pretty much treated me like one of his own.
“Landon,” Steel says in his deep, smoky voice, bringing me back to the present. He’s only spoken my name, but I know there’s a whole world of meaning there.
“Here, boss.”
“Listen. Some bad shit’s going down. I need you to protect Vivian. Protect her with your life. I want you to go to the Whitley Library on campus. She’s tutoring there tonight, and I’ll bet my ass the fuckers will strike there. Stop them, Landon, by all means necessary. Stop them and save her. Bring her back to hq when you’re done.”
I pause. I swore long ago to Steel that his daughter was off limits. This news has me floored, confused, and pissed.
He seems to read my mind.
“I know the law we laid down years ago, son. But it’s off now. I need you to get there, Lan-man. Quick. You’re the only one I trust with this.”
He hangs up the phone. I realize even though I hate it, there’s no way I can refuse him.
I turn back towards Kristi, who is lying languidly across the bed like a cat, legs spread open in offering. Her wet pussy is bright red and shiny from our mixed juices. For once, I feel a small ripple of disgust.
“Come back, baby.” Kristi raises her eyebrows and stretches her arms over her head. Her enormous tits are flopped on either side, capped with brown nipples.
I know Vivian wouldn’t look like that.
“Can’t. Got a job to do.”
“The damn club? At this hour?”
I look at her. I know how I must look. Like a man capable of hurting a woman. Even murdering her.
Because I am.
But Blacktop Chaos is everything. The club is my identity and my life. My entire world.
“The damn club?” I mock her. “The damn club is everything. Don’t ever suggest otherwise. Get the fuck out, sheep, and take your clothes with you.”
Trembling in fear, Kristi does what she’s told, picking up her scattered clothes and skittering away like a mouse.
Feeling a vague sense of satisfaction that I scared her off, I dress myself quickly, ignoring my still-raging hard-on. Sorry, boy, I think. You’ll just have to wait.
I grab my keys off the scratched dresser and lock the door, then disappear into the chilly winter night on my bike. It’s a shiny black 2012 Cross Roads Classic Victory, chopped to my tastes. Ape bars, extended sissy, everything. Simply put, a fucking masterpiece that rages and breathes fire between my legs.
Soon I’m like a hawk flying low and smooth over shiny black oceans of asphalt.
It takes me about twenty minutes to get to the library, and it seems I arrive there just in time. In the parking lot, some masked guy in black is struggling with Vivian.
A strange panic overtakes me. I’m usually so calm and sure of myself.
But I’m also taken by surprise. I thought a girl like Vivian Grayson would cower and simper in fear. But instead, she is putting up one hell of a fight. I’m dimly aware of my body’s involuntary and visceral reactions to her presence. During the ride, my erection had naturally eased away. Now my cock seems to have grown even harder than before and my balls feel dull and achy.
I materialize out of nowhere and manage to get the asshole off of Vivian and punch him in the face. I’m asking her questions when the guy suddenly gets on his feet, gets into his shitty little Honda, and takes off before I can catch him.
After a little verbal tiff, I’ve got Vivian on the back of my bike and we’re whizzing down the street. I’m in some kind of suspended state of shock and disbelief. I can’t believe I have Vivian fucking Grayson on my ride. I can feel her sweet, curvaceous little body pressed against mine. I can feel the heat between her legs. It’s fucking intoxicating. She smells of something vaguely familiar, some exotic yet subtle perfume like wild orchid.
Fuck, I think. A job, I had told Kristi. This isn’t a job— it’s fucking torture.
Blacktop Chaos headquarters is in a building which used to house a coast guard auxiliary.
Moonlight glints over dark water. The windows look like giant anchors.
Inside the clubhouse, there’s a huge round table made of dark mahogany where club members meet. Basically, it’s where all business goes down. That room is legendary. As they say, if only walls could talk.
I take Vivian’s arm and walk her into the softly lit, empty lobby.
In normal circumstances, it’s off limits to bring a woman to the clubhouse. But the night’s events have called for a slight change in protocol.
“Stay put for a while,” I tell Vivian. In our club, women aren’t allowed into the meetings. Ever. Not even the president’s daughter.
She sinks down into one of the old red velvet chairs and looks up at me with those wide, doll-like eyes. My cock stirs again.
I walk into the meeting room. I’m relieved to see Steel’s already there, plus Blade and Blondie. Slit sits at the end of the table opposite Steel.
I take my seat beside my boss.
Steel lights a cigar. The plumes rise up around his deeply lined face. His eyes study me for a while; I don’t know what he’s thinking.
“So what happened?” he asks after a long pause.
Being second-in-command, it’s my job to report on the situation first. “Supposedly it just happened right when Blade was at the bar.”
“Alright, Blade. Give me your account,” Steel presses on.
“Well boss, I was literally sitting next to this guy who was blitzed and talking about it right in the open. ‘They’re gonna take Vivian,’ he kept saying over and over and laughing about it like it was a done deal. Stupid motherfucker. I wanted to tear his head off right there.”
“Calm down, Blade,” Steel interjects. “You did the right thing by keeping your head.”
“Thanks, boss.” Blade tosses his long curly dark hair from his shoulders and tries not to beam like a kid given a reward.
Sometimes it feels like we’re all a bonafide family. Sometimes I think both Blade and I are more like sons to Steel than brothers.
“And you have no idea who it is?” Steel asks as he looks from Blade to me.
“None.”
Slit turns and looks straight at me. He’s a big guy and tends not to say much, but he’s basically the brains of the club.
“Midnight Devils. Or Helldogs. Has to be.”
“That’s what I was thinking,” I reply.
Steel looks around the table and inhales deeply. He puts his cigar in the ashtray and folds his hands into a steeple in front of him.
“This can’t happen again. God knows what might have happened. I should have done this long ago. My daughter needs a protector. And we need some time to figure out who these assholes are.” He turns to me. “Landon. From now on until this thing is settled, I want you to be Vivian’s official bodyguard. I want you next to her every minute of every day.”
“Boss, I don’t think…”
“Whoa there, it’s not your place to think, Lan-man,” he snaps at me, hammering his clenched fist upon the table, effectively shutting me up. I know it’s not my place to be insolent, but me as Vivian’s protector? It’s fucking crazy.
“Stop thinking about it,” he continues to chide me. “You’re going to do this for me, Landon, and you have no say in the matter. My mind’s made up.”
I can feel the unspoken sentences hanging in the air.
And you owe it to me, son, for all I’ve done for you in the past.
For the life I gave you when you had none.
I keep my mouth shut tight. I know he’s right, even though I’m not happy about it at all. But I don’t want anything to do with little Miss Priss, Vivian Grayson. She’s off limits, and I don’t need to be around her. I can’t even imagine it—someone like me being with some goody two-shoes like her twenty-four hours a day. I’d probably go fucking crazy.
Maybe even take her out.
“What about her classes?” I ask, wondering if I’ll have to visit a goddamn college campus every day. Everyone knows Vivian’s studying to be a teacher.
“I’ll have her take a leave of absence from her classes,” Steel breathes. “For now, just take her to the hideout until further notice. Make her feel comfortable, and make sure she keeps on top of her classes. These motherfuckers are not going to get in the way of my baby’s graduation. We’ll get this thing settled in no time. Then everyone and everything can get back to normal. I now declare this meeting adjourned.”
The gavel slams down upon the table, and splinters of finality fly through the air.