CHAPTER SIXTEEN | ACE
Sienna came undone like a tangled up ball of cables; once you get that first knot out, the rest just unraveled right in your hands.
With one kiss, all of that piss and vinegar washed right out of her and she melted into me.
“This doesn’t mean anything,” she insisted, rolling her hands under my black t-shirt and tugging it up towards my shoulders. I helped her, peeling the shirt the rest of the way off.
“This is just meaningless sex between two consenting adults,” she added, pressing her lips against mine again.
“Drop the act, Blondie,” I grunted in between kisses. “You know exactly what you came here for.”
“I came here to follow up on the lead you gave me last week!” she stammered stubbornly.
“Is that why you came over here dressed like this?” I nodded down at her little black dress. It fit loose, but still hugged her curves. Then I slapped my palm against one of her tits and added, “You didn’t even wear a bra.”
“It’s hot outside!”
“Mhmm,” I smirked, then I shoved my lips against hers. Her hands crawled over my bare chest, climbing the ridges of my abs like they were steps on a ladder.
“You got a lot of nerve, you know,” I grunted. “Showing up at my shop unannounced…”
“You told me to come find you!”
“Acting like you don’t need my help…”
“I don’t need your help!”
“Acting like that pussy hasn’t belonged to me since the moment we said, ‘I do.’”
I expected her to protest, but she didn’t. Instead, she sucked her bottom lip between her teeth as her hips bucked towards me. She slid right off her barstool, but I caught her, clenching my hands around her ass cheeks. I lifted her up, dropping her on the bar top. Her knees naturally fell open, swallowing me inside.
“I’m nobody’s property,” she said finally in a half-hearted murmur.
“Of course you are,” I said. “Until I sign those annulment papers, you’re all mine, Blondie.”
I dug my hips between her thighs, letting her feel every inch of the engine that roared underneath my jeans.
“And I’m all yours,” I added under my breath.
She whimpered softly, biting down on her lip in an effort to suppress the sound. But I heard it, and I could feel the pure fire that radiated from her sex.
“Now I suggest you take that dress off,” I said. “Unless you want me to destroy it the way I did that wedding dress.”
Sienna didn’t put up a fight. She hastily wiggled the dress up over her hips, then stripped it off over her shoulders. Besides her black panties, she was completely naked, sitting on top of my bar. My dick was hard enough to drill a hole through concrete, but I still had to pause to admire her form. Her tits were bigger than I remembered— rounder, and her nipples were erect and at attention. My mouth watered just looking at them.
I ran my palms along the outsides of her thighs, then I guided her legs up so that her knees were bent and her feet were propped up on the edge of the bar. In her vulnerable position, I had the perfect view of her mound. The crotch of her panties was marked with a slick wet streak that had soaked through the fabric. She blushed, but she didn’t try to hide it.
“Your turn,” she said, nodding at my torn up jeans.
“Not just yet,” I said. Once I liberated the beast between my legs, there was no telling what I’d do. I wanted to take my time.
“Panties off,” I instructed her.
For a woman who had just insisted that she would never take orders, she sure didn’t waste any time complying with my request. She slid the soaked panties up her raised thighs, then over her knees and down her calves. Once they were off, she tried to press her legs together, but I forced them apart with my hands.
I glanced down at her glistening, swollen sex. She was dripping wet, and her opening was practically throbbing for my cock. But I had other plans for her.
“Turn over,” I said.
She frowned, confused, but I grabbed her hips and guided her into place, so that she was perched on the bartop on her hands and knees, with her ass in the air facing me. I nudged her legs further apart, opening the crack of her asscheeks.
Then I reached between her legs and dug my fingers into her slit, tracing her from front to back and spreading her apart as I went. Her hips bucked, thrusting towards the bar as if an imaginary cock would materialize and pierce into her.
Instead of a cock, she got my fingers. I shoved two at a time into her eager opening, penetrating without warning. Her slippery walls sucked my fingers in and she moaned as her hips thrust down again, swallowing me deeper inside.
As my fingers fucked her pussy, I slapped her ass with my other hand. Then I leaned forward and began to tease around her asshole with my tongue. I made a few circles before my tongue probed her hole.
“Ace!” she gasped, immediately going tense from the unfamiliar sensation. I slipped my fingers around her clit and squeezed, and her body loosened again as a moan fluttered from her throat.
I kept my fingers on her clit, pinching and flicking and rubbing as my tongue worked her rear entrance. Her hips couldn’t decide which direction to buck anymore, and her moans began to intensify as I felt the orgasm building.
“Holy shit, holy shit, holy—”
She was on the brink, and to send her over the edge, I shoved my fingers deep into her pussy. At the same time, I drove my thumb into her tight puckered asshole. She shrieked out in ecstasy, and then her body spasmed with release.
“Ohhh!” a gust of air expelled from her mouth as she floated back down to earth. I gave her to the count of three to recover before I spun her back over onto her ass. I heard the wet squishing sound of her juices coating the bartop, but I didn’t give a shit about the mess we were making. That was nothing compared to what I was about to do.
“Hold on, Blondie,” I said, flicking open the zipper of my jeans. “We’re just getting started.”
Her eyes lit up when I pulled down the waistband of my briefs and tugged my cock free. This time, she took the lead. She slipped off of the bar and dropped onto her feet, staggering slightly as she took a shaky step towards me.
“Just what do you think you’re doing down there—”
Before I could finish asking the question, she had tucked her hand between her thighs. Then, with her palm coated in her own juices, she gripped my shaft and stroked me up and down, spreading her wetness all over me.
I could have blown my load right there on the spot, feeling the grip of her hand mixed with the slick stickiness leftover from her orgasm. It was a good thing I didn’t let myself go just yet, though. If I had, I never would have found out what she had in store for me next.
Hand still stroking my cock, she slowly got down on her knees in front of me. I watched her plump lips pop open into an “O” as her head edged forward. I dug my hands into her mane, gripping two fists full of blonde.
Then, suddenly, she stopped and her eyes flicked up to me.
“What’s wrong, baby?” I choked on my own tongue and my cock screamed in agony as it hovered a few inches away from her open mouth. “Haven’t you operated heavy machinery before?”
Her cheeks burned bright red and her lips clamped together in an awkward pout.
“Not exactly,” she admitted sheepishly.
“Well it might be bigger than what you’re used to, but—”
“I don’t mean that,” her cheeks got even redder, but her eyes stayed pointed up at me. “I mean… I’ve never done this at all.”
My eyes widened with shock and my dick swelled in her grip.
“Shut the fuck up,” I muttered. “You mean you’ve never…”
She gulped and shook her head slowly from side to side.
“Wow. You must hate men even more than I thought.”
She glared, and the embarrassment painted all over her face turned to anger.
“Come on, Blondie. You know I’m just teasing,” I said. I released my grip on her hair and smoothed it down, stroking her head gently. Then I frowned. “Why’d you get down on your knees if you’ve never sucked one before?”
She bit down on her bottom lip and her cheeks turned even redder. If she blushed any harder, she’d probably start on fire.
“I… I guess I got caught up in the moment, and I wanted to try,” she shrugged. The innocent curiosity in her voice sent a bolt of heat through my cock. I didn’t just want to feel Sienna O’Malley’s hot little virgin mouth all over my thick shaft; I needed it.
But not like this.
I grabbed Sienna’s elbows and guided her back up.
“Your first time should be special,” I teased. “Not in some dingy basement bar.”
“You don’t want it?”
“Of course I fucking want it,” I scoffed. “Blondie, I’d shove my own bike off a cliff just to find out what those lips can do. But not here. Not like this.”
She frowned stubbornly, but instead of protesting she huffed in defeat and reached for her discarded black dress.
“Not so fast,” I said, knocking the dress out of her hand. “Just because you’re not sucking my dick, doesn’t mean we’re finished here.”
Her eyebrows raised, and she gnawed down on her bottom lip.
“I’ve still got two other holes to work with,” I winked. “So why don’t you get back up on that bar and spread your legs for me?”
***
I couldn’t get Sienna out of my head, and the heat sure as hell wasn’t helping. The temperature continued to climb as the afternoon dragged on, like a fever that showed no signs of breaking. By the time the sun began to sink down in the sky, the heat was already embedded in the city. It radiated from the asphalt and seeped out the dusty earth, then it hung in the dry, stagnant air.
Even with the garage doors rolled up, the shop felt like an oven.
I was crouched over my old man’s chopper, trying my best to concentrate on the task at hand. I had finished rebuilding the engine and mounting it back on the bike’s frame… now all I had to do was get it to fire up. Not easy to do when I was baking like a hot potato and had a highlight reel of Sienna O’Malley’s orgasm face playing over and over on an endless loop in my head.
I was about to throw in the towel and take my Harley out for a sunset cruise, when I heard the squeak of a door opening. I glanced up and saw Asher step into the garage. His hands were shoved into the pockets of his jeans, and his shoulders slumped forward sheepishly. His t-shirt and bare forearms were stained with streaks of bright white paint.
“I didn’t realize you were still here,” I said, surprised.
Asher had spent the afternoon rolling a fresh coat of paint over the building’s exterior cinderblock wall, covering up the scorch marks left by Mr. Money’s Molotov cocktails.
I knew it was a tough job —especially on a hot day like today—but I figured it’d do Asher some good to sweat a little.
“I was just cleaning up,” he said, shuffling towards me. “The wall is finished.”
“Good work,” I nodded approvingly. “You’ve had a long day. You must be ready to get the hell out of here, huh?” I reached into my pocket for my wallet and pulled out a folded twenty-dollar bill.
“Here,” I said, holding it out towards him. “Let me treat you to dinner. You earned it.”
Asher took an awkward step towards me, but he kept his hands wedged in his front pockets.
“Actually,” he said, staring down at the toes of his Converse sneakers, “I was thinking I’d hang out around here a little longer.”
“Really?” I glanced up at him, surprised. Then I teased, “Why? You aren’t snooping on Shelia again, are you?”
Asher’s face immediately wrinkled at the mention of the back-alley hooker who hung out behind the shop.
“No way,” he grimaced. “I was just going to see if you wanted some help with the bike.”
That surprised me even more. I sat back on my creeper seat and folded my arms.
“You want to help with the chopper?”
“Why not?” he shrugged his shoulders. “I never got to bond over this stuff with Dad the way you did. I guess in a way, rebuilding his bike might make me feel closer him. And maybe it’d be good for us to do something together, too.”
I nodded slowly, then I smiled and rolled my creeper seat to the side, making space in front of the bike’s frame for Asher to sit next to me. “Come on over.”
Ash grabbed a plastic milk crate and carried it towards me, then he dropped it on the garage floor and plopped down on it.
“Let’s start with the basics,” I said, glancing down at the chopper. “What can you tell me about the engine?”
“Um… it’s shiny and chrome?” Asher shrugged, at a loss.
“This was actually the chopper’s original engine,” I told him proudly. “When I started working on it, it was in pretty bad shape. I had to replace a few parts, but she’s mostly original.”
“Shit, really?” Ash whistled. “It looks brand new.”
“That’s the power of elbow grease.”
“Can you teach me?” Asher asked, flicking his eyes back towards me. “I mean… I have to learn this stuff if I want to be a High Roller, right?”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
“What do you mean?” Asher immediately sounded defensive, and his brow wrinkled into a frown. I sighed and eased back on my creeper seat.
“I mean that joining the High Rollers shouldn’t be your top priority right now.”
“It’s not my top priority,” Asher spat. “It’s my only priority.”
“Well maybe you should broaden your horizons a little bit.”
“Broaden my horizons?! Why do you think I came to Vegas in the first place? I wanted to make a life for myself. I wanted to be like you.”
“You’re eighteen years old,” I shook my head, “You have no idea what you want.”
“Would you stop talking down to me?!” Asher fumed. He jolted up and kicked the milk carton over. “I’m not a fucking child.”
“Coulda fooled me the way you’re acting right now.”
“I can make my own decisions! When are you going to let me prove that to you?!”
“Jesus,” I grunted, digging my fingers into my forehead. “What’s the fucking rush, huh? The High Rollers aren’t going anywhere. We’ll still be here next year, and the year after that, and the year after that.”
“Great,” Asher snapped. “Because I intend to be here, too. As a member. I’m sick of tagging along, like it’s fucking ‘bring your little brother to work day.’”
“Well that’s not up to you,” I snapped. “The club decides when we accept a new prospect, not the other way around.”
“So maybe we should let the club decide instead of you?”
“We can do that if you want,” I shrugged. “But I’m telling you now: you won’t get a single vote in your favor. You’re not ready. Everyone can see that besides you.”
“You’ll never think I’m ready,” Asher glared back at me. “You think you’re so much better than me. But you’re not really, are you?”
“Ash, come on—”
“No,” Asher yelled. He kicked the toolbox, sending it toppling over onto its side. Tools and spare parts clattered across the garage floor. “Your shit stinks too, you just do a better job of burying it.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You tell me,” Ash said. “You stay out all night, you’ve got the cops coming to your front door with fucking annulment papers. You drew a gun on me the other day, all because I tried sneaking in through the bathroom window. What the hell is going on, Ace?”
“If I thought you could handle the answer to that, then we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.”
“Right,” he scoffed, shaking his head with a disgusted expression smeared across his face. “Maybe tracking you down was a mistake after all. Maybe I should have just let you stay lost.”
That was the last thing he said to me before he turned on his heel and stormed out of the garage. He slipped out of sight, but I heard his footsteps crunch over the gravel parking lot, then I heard the roar of his bike’s engine firing to life. A few seconds later, I heard the engine rev furiously as he sped out of the parking lot.
I followed after him, sprinting out to the parking lot. But by the time I stepped through the garage door, he was already gone; just a black blip in the distance against the orange desert sky.