Gabriel stomped through the parking lot to his hog. Stella had started to piss him off with her sneering attitude, but if he were honest with himself, he deserved every bit of what she’d dished out. He’d done what he’d done for what seemed to be good reasons at the time, but he was just a stupid ass kid and by the time he realized how wrong he’d been, he’d decided to let it be rather than open old wounds again.

 

Seeing her tonight only reinforced how stupid, and wrong, he’d been. She was still as beautiful as ever, maybe more so. The last few years had softened her, and she’d put on a few pounds, but they had made her more feminine and, to his eye, more beautiful than ever. She’d matured, as he had, and he wondered if maybe there was a chance to get back what they had.

 

He snorted. Fat chance of that. It appeared she’d as soon bury a knife in his back as to look at him. He swung his leg over the bike and began to buckle on his helmet. He thought about going home to his empty apartment, then then decided he couldn’t face that, not tonight, not after seeing Stella and her ripping him a new one. He would spend the entire night beating himself up over what he’d done, and he knew that led to only place: the bottom of a bottle.

 

He blasted out of the strip mall parking lot, the Harley bellowing its war cry as he banged it up through the gears only to have to brake hard at the first light. He sat, revving the bike, waiting on the light to change. When it did, he gave the throttle a firm twist and ripped away from the light, leaving all the losers in their cages in his dust. After a moment, he took a deep breath and let his annoyance go.

 

He wasn’t sure what had come over him, other than Stella’s sneering attitude had pissed him off, but he wasn’t sure why. As he slowed to a stop at the next light, he admitted he knew why. Did he really expect her to welcome him back as if nothing had happened?

 

He didn’t feel like going back to the clubhouse as he planned. It still needed a ton of work, but he wasn’t up for it after seeing Stella. He and his brothers had worked most of the day on the place before taking a break for dinner then calling it a night. The contractor was going to start on Monday or Tuesday, and they wanted to have as much demolition work done as possible, to save them time and money, before he showed up. The sooner they could get the place in shape, the sooner they’d have a clubhouse.

 

He was one of only two members of the new charter not to have an old lady, though only Doc’s and Hammer’s had made the trip to Greenfield, South Carolina, so far. Most were staying back in Charleston until things were settled and the club was up and on its feet.

 

The Iron Kings were expanding, opening a new chapter, their second, in Greenfield. Gabriel had been promoted and would be the Sergeant at Arms of the Greenfield Chapter while Avery Doctson, the Sergeant at Arms of the mother chapter, had been promoted to President. The club was extending its reach and now, with two chapters, one on each side of the state, they were spreading their influence. Greenfield was just the first in what the founding chapter hoped would be a slow roll out across the southeast.

 

Gabriel had grown up in Greenfield, South Carolina, and knew the area well. He wasn’t ready for the gavel yet, but his knowledge of the area would be invaluable. He had worked tirelessly in the club and had natural leadership skills, so he had earned the chance to spread his wings a little.

 

Even though he didn’t feel it like it, he forced himself to return to the clubhouse. He pulled into what would become the Iron Kings’, Greenfield Chapter, clubhouse, unlocked the doors, and flipped on the lights. They had gotten a lot done on the place in the two days since they’d closed on the failed restaurant. It was in a terrible location for a restaurant, located well away from any other commercial property, but was perfect for them, and the club had picked it up out of foreclosure for a song. The isolated location and large parking lot meant they had room and they planned to make use of it, eventually.

 

It was a relatively new building, faced with deep red brick and few windows. The previous owner had gutted the kitchen and bar when the business went under, but the hookups and plumbing were all still there. What the building needed, more than anything, was some walls and a good cleaning. The kitchen fire that had closed the restaurant and driven it out of business had left everything covered in a greasy smoke residue.

 

He walked around the place, trying to get into the mood to attack the bathroom walls again, but just wasn’t feeling it. Since he was there, and felt like he should do something, he spent a half-hour sweeping up the debris from the day’s work, piling the mess into two five-gallon buckets which he then hauled and dumped in the huge construction dumpster outside. It took three trips to get all the wood chips, tile pieces, and loose nails and screws swept up, but by ten he was satisfied with what he had done. He stood, looking around the vast empty space, trying to imagine the place after it became the Kings’ clubhouse. He picked up the sledge and crowbar and stepped up to the wall that was coming down, hefted the large hammer, and made to swing, but the blow never came. He stood, staring at the wall, then put the hammer down, gave his head a shake, and stomped out of the building, locking it behind him.

 

He rode to the small complex then tramped up to his tiny, two-room apartment. In Charleston he’d rented a furnished place, but here he was planning on buying some furniture and trying to make a home. He strode into his bedroom, sitting down on the one thing he’d bought, a mattress, which was on the floor. He spent most of his time with his brothers, and just needed a place to sleep. Once the clubhouse was finished, he would worry about a better place to sit.

 

It was only ten-thirty and he was keyed up. He showered and changed out of his dirty clothes. He thought about going to bed, but sleep was the farthest thing from his mind and he needed to get out of the apartment before he crawled into the bottle of Maker’s 46 he’d picked up a few days before. He needed some downtime and a distraction to take his mind off Stella. He trotted down the steps, mounted up, and thumbed the big Softail to life.

 

He rode through the night, enjoying the rapidly cooling air as he gave the bike its head, allowing it to take him where it wanted. He didn’t care where he went, using the ride as therapy. He was sitting at a light when a woman pulled to a stop beside him on a Sportster.

 

“Hey! I haven’t seen that patch around before. Just passing through?” she called, looking him over.

 

He grinned at her. “Iron Kings. We’re opening a chapter here in town. You patched?”

 

She eased forward so he could see the blood red circle with a five pointed star inside on her back. He crept up to match her. “The Coven,” she said without being asked.

 

“Local?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

The light turned green and they rode until the next red light caught them. “Join me for a beer?” he asked as they waited for the light to change.

 

She looked him over again. “Sure. Follow me.”

 

He followed her as they weaved through town, pulling to a stop in front of a small house. “Doesn’t look like any bar I’ve seen,” he teased as he dismounted.

 

“I don’t think drinking and riding is very smart, do you?”

 

He chuckled. “No, I suppose not.” He followed her into her house. “You live here alone?”

 

“Yeah,” she said as she moved to the fridge. She pulled two beers out and handed him one. “So you’re new to town?”

 

“No. I grew up here, then moved to Charleston to be part of the Kings. Now that we’re opening a chapter here, I’ve come back.” He took a pull from his beer. “You?”

 

“Born and raised here. I work at Michelin in their R&D department.”

 

“That sounds interesting.”

 

“Trust me, it sounds more exciting than it is.”

 

Gabriel chuckled. “Doesn’t it always? I don’t even know your name.”

 

“Call me Circe.”

 

“Not your real name I assume?”

 

Circe smiled as she led Gabriel deeper into her house. “No. It’s my coven name. She was an enchantress in Homer’s Odyssey who transformed those who offended her into animals.”

 

“Call me Royal, then,” he said as he followed.

 

“Royal?”

 

“It’s what my brothers call me.”

 

“Royal of what?”

 

“Nothing. It’s just a nickname.”

 

She smiled. Now that she was in the light, he could tell she was considerably older than he was, maybe as much as twice his age, but she still carried herself with confidence and was damned attractive. They settled onto the couch.

 

“So what do the Iron Kings do?”

 

“A little of this, a little of that.”

 

She grinned at him again. “Okay. Outlaw or inlaw?”

 

“Inlaw…mostly. The Coven?”

 

“Inlaw. We’re just a bunch of witches who like to ride bikes.”

 

“Witches, huh? Cast any spells lately?”

 

“Did one tonight as a matter of fact.”

 

“Oh really?”

 

“You invited me out for a beer didn’t you?”

 

He chuckled. “And here I thought that was my idea.”

 

She smiled as she leaned in a little closer. “That’s what they all think, but you had no choice in the matter. Just like you have no choice now.”

 

He grinned, liking the game. “What have you done to me now?”

 

She leaned in closer, her mouth only inches from his. “You’re going to show me how much steel you have in your renegade.”

 

He barked out a laugh. “I am?”

 

“Ever fucked a witch?”

 

“Can’t say I have.”

 

“Want to?”

 

He took the bottle from her hand and placed it on the table beside his. “Do I have any choice?”

 

“None at all,” she said as she leaned in and took his lips.

 

She was in entirely too much control. He accepted her kiss a moment, then pushed her hard back, forcing her onto the corner of the couch while kissing her furiously. Her forwardness had turned him on in a big way. This was nothing but sex, pure and simple, and he was going to fuck her until they were both sore and exhausted. He needed this as much as she apparently did, allowing him to burn off his frustration from earlier with some good old-fashioned, hard fucking.

 

They wrestled out of their leathers, throwing them into the floor as their tongues forced their way into the other’s mouth.

 

“Fuck!” Circe gasped as she thrust at him with her hips. “Not here! In bed!”

 

He rolled off her and pulled her to her feet, but before she could turn away, he pulled her shirt over her head, adding it to the leathers, and roughly caressed her breasts.

 

She moaned softly, then backed away. “You like my tits? You want to fuck them?” she murmured as she slid her hand inside his pants, firmly gripping his member. “Oh, I think I’m going to enjoy tonight,” she whispered before withdrawing her hand then stretching up to kiss him again.

 

He pulled back from the kiss, and she led him down the hall. They stopped just inside her bedroom, shedding clothes as they kissed and tugged at each other, his passions spiraling out of control. She started to kneel in front of him but he tugged her upright, then shoved her roughly backwards toward the bed, following her to push her again so she flopped onto the bed.

 

“So, a tough guy?” she asked with a smile. “That’s good. I like men who think they’re in charge.” She rolled away and rummaged in her drawer a moment before she came back with two condoms and three different lotions. She took his condom from his hand and added it to the pile of items on the side table. “You’re going to need more than one tonight,” she purred as she took him in hand again and pulled him into the bed by his cock. “I’ve put a hardness spell on you.”

 

He grinned down at her. Maybe she had because he was throbbing in anticipation. “Is that enough steel for you?” he teased.

 

She grinned as she pushed him over to his back and swung a leg over him. “Let’s see how long you can keep it.”

 

As she swung her leg over his face, he drew her down, pulling her in tight and began to probe and lick, battering her clit with his tongue as she repeated his performance on the head of his cock. The woman had skills, that much was certain. They were in a duel, witch versus renegade, to see who could make the other come first.

 

He continued to lick and probe, pulling at her lips with his own as he caressed her channel with his fingers.

 

“Oh, fuck,” she gasped as her hips starting to pump, and he knew he had her. She began to moan softly as he continued to tickle her, pressing in harder with his tongue while her fellation increased in its intensity. After a moment, she became still, his cock still in her mouth, moaning around it while he continued to lick and probe.

 

“Shit,” she sighed. “That one goes to you,” she smiled as she turned in the bed, reaching over to the night stand and picking up one of the bottles. “You like peaches?” she asked as sheathed his sword then squirted a liberal amount of lotion on her breasts and his body and smeared it around to make them slick. She then lay across him and wrapped her breasts around his cock. “Fuck my tits. Fuck them hard.”

 

He thrust his cock between her breasts for a long moment, hissing in pleasure, before she pulled back and slid up, taking him inside as she settled over him with a sigh. He took a breast into his mouth, smiling at the taste of peaches as he tongued one of her nipples even more erect, before he pulled her lips to his.

 

She was fucking the shit out of him, gasping and moaning, but tonight he had a secret weapon. Each time he felt his orgasm rising within him, he thought about the confrontation with Stella in the diner, and the orgasm withered and died. He reached over and after a bit of fumbling, found the bottle of lotion and squirted a healthy dollop into his hands that he smeared all over her back, sides, ass and legs, before pushing her up, and adding another squirt to her chest, caressing her breasts before pulling her down and wrapping her up.

 

He drew his legs up and pounded into her hard and fast for several long moments, wrapping his hands in her hair and kissing her until she began to keen softly into his mouth. He pushed up, driving himself as deep into her as possible, holding himself there until he felt her relax in his grip.

 

She collapsed into him, both of them panting hard. “Fuck,” she sighed, then smiled before she kissed him slowly. “Did you come?”

 

“No,” he whispered.

 

“No?” She smiled softly. “You better come soon or you’ll wear my ass out. I haven’t been fucked like this in a long time.”

 

“You’re the one who put the hardness spell on me, remember?” he teased, holding her face in his hands.

 

She twittered out a laugh then kissed him quickly on the lips before she rolled off of him, and presented her ass to him for inspection. “I must not know my own power.” She wiggled her ass. “But don’t worry, I won’t leave you hanging.”

 

He entered her slowly, pushing in deep with a sigh. He wanted to give her at least one more orgasm before he allowed himself to have his own, enjoying the game and wanting her to remember the Iron Kings when she started talking to her sisters.

 

He pounded into her until he began to sweat and she began to moan softly again. He realized when Circe began to moan she was working up to another orgasm. He pulled her hair, making her gasp, pounding into her harder still, before reaching around her and pulling her upright, pressing her back into his chest, a hand lightly around her throat as he kissed her neck savagely, his finger massaging her button as he continued to pound into her hard and fast.

 

She shuddered hard, bucking as she moaned while he struggled to hold her in place, until she lunged away with a gasp. She lay on the bed, panting on her side, but he wasn’t done. He flopped to the bed behind her, picking up another bottle, taking a quick look, then picking up the third. It was labeled as lubricant and he coated his cock with it, then squirted another splotch onto her ass. Unless she objected, he was going to ass fuck her because she seemed like the kind of chick who would dig it.

 

He pressed in slowly, pulling back several times to pick up additional lubrication before pressing in again. They gasped together, her tightness incredible as he slowly forced his way deep. “Fuck!” he barked, the rarity of what he was doing amping him up.

 

“That’s it. Fuck me in the ass,” she hissed, pushing back into him. “Fuck me in the ass until you come.”

 

“Fuck, you’re so tight!”

 

Circe smiled, though Royal couldn’t see it. She occasionally allowed men to take her ass, and she was in the mood tonight. Normally she was a one and done girl. A really good lover could sometimes get her there twice. But she couldn’t remember the last time she’d come three times in one session. Most men couldn’t last long enough to get her there more than twice. “Let’s see you not come now, you fucking asshole,” growled playfully as she clamped down on him with everything she had.

 

“Fuck!” he snarled, feeling like his cock was in a velvet vise as he began to move. He reached around her thigh to begin ticking her again. She pulled his hand away, but he returned and began to caress her again. When she pulled it away the second time, he caught her wrists in his hand and held them firmly over her head.

 

She began to struggle to pull her hands down as he reached between her legs again. If she asked he would release her, but not before. They engaged in a brief test of strength but she was no match for him. “Come on, fuck me!” she snarled pumping her hips as she continued to try to free her hands.

 

“Shit,” he snarled, thrusting into her hard.

 

“That’s it,” she growled. “Not so fucking tough now, are you? Not so fucking tough now!”

 

He began to rumble, low and deep in his chest. He tried to think of Stella, to hold off his orgasm again just to show her he could but he was too far gone.

 

“Fuck!” she gasped. “I’m going to come again. You’re going to make me fucking come again. Fuck!”

 

He released her hands and rolled over, pulling her up onto him, holding her by her neck but being careful not to squeeze too hard as his other hand tickled her pussy.

 

“I’m going to come,” he growled, thrusting into her as hard and fast as possible.

 

“Oh, God…damn! Shit! Fuck!” Circe cried out softly as she quivered.

 

Having her fall into her orgasm ripped away his control and he came, grunting softly as he spilled his essence into the condom.

 

They lay gasping a moment before Circe rolled off him with a groan then turned over to face him. “Shit, I’m going to be sore in the morning.” She paused then smiled at him before giving him a slow kiss. “Thank you for that.”

 

He chuckled as she snuggled in. “All part of the service.”

 

She reached down and caressed his still hard cock before pulling her hand back with a sigh. “Normally I would like to go again in an hour or so, but I’m done. You fucked the shit out of me.”

 

“It’s okay,” he said softly before kissing her on the shoulder. He didn’t plan to stick around anyway. Once she was asleep he would slip away into the night. She would understand, and if not, he didn’t care. He was just going to have beer with her in a bar to relax. She was the one who brought him home to fuck, and they hadn’t even exchanged names.

 

As she relaxed into sleep, he felt the hollowness return, the hollowness he thought he was past. But seeing Stella, and this empty sex, had reminded him of…what? What he’d left behind? With a sigh he waited, staring at the ceiling, waiting until he could disentangle himself from the woman lying on his arm and return to his own apartment, and his empty bed.