Trench

 

     One fucking ride.

     Watching LoJack’s hungry expression in the side mirror had me second-guessing the boots I bought Tori. Hell, I should have been second guessing everything about this woman, but instead I was focused on concealing her from other men’s stares. I should have thought her wardrobe through a little more. I failed to take into consideration the dress she wore, the one I chose, would do nothing to cover much of her lower half as we rode. The knee-high boots offered more coverage, but they only made her look even more edible. The tops of the black leather kissed the bottom of those tan thighs and exposed the smooth skin just inches from her sexy round ass. The same soft ass that had taken residence on the back of my bike as if she had always owned that spot. The warmth between her legs spread through my backside as her bottom slid down towards me and she wrapped her hips around my own. I grabbed her delicate hands that had found their way to my shoulders again and pulled them to my front. No way was she riding like that. I squeezed her fingers gently, daring her to move them.

     LoJack and Clutch flanked us on their bikes as we sped down the highway and closer to home. They weren’t pleased with my spontaneous decision to help Tori. In all fairness, it was a matter that should have been put to a vote, but there was no point fighting me on it. Tori wasn’t safe in town. Hell, I wasn’t entirely sure she would be safe by herself anywhere. The woman was a walking accident half the time and the other half was spent being a magnet for troubled men. Myself included and perhaps the worst of them all.

     I still had no idea what to do about her father, but that could come later. For now, though, with Clutch’s bike fixed, I wanted to get everyone off the road and back to the compound. It would be safer there. I was glad I’d decided against sending the others ahead of us. Our little impromptu meeting with Castro could have ended badly if we didn’t have the numbers. Castro would relay my message to Preacher and I’d be ready for his response.

     As we approached the compound, the long run from the days before began to wear on me. I was ready for a hot shower and a couple hours of sleep. Tori would be safe until I could figure out my next steps.

Behind me, she arched her back to stretch her neck and I felt her breasts crush against my cut. I took my right hand off the handlebar and reached down to squeeze her exposed thigh. The hot Georgia air blew against us and made the bottom of the cotton dress balloon around her legs, leaving me plenty of room to roam. I don’t know what compelled me to offer her reassurance.

     She was the daughter to a rival MC and her mother may have been carrying a torch for my dead father. None of it made sense and I had never been one to believe in coincidence. Her skin was hot from the afternoon sun, like the finest silk underneath my rough hands. My zipper was being pushed to its limits as my dick strained against the urge to pull over and claim her. I’d never craved a woman as much as I craved Tori. Still, I couldn’t heed the warnings in my head that I was making a mistake, touching her, caressing her soft flesh with my hand.  I started to pull away when she freed one of her hands from my waist and covered my hand with her own to hold me in place. She was giving me permission and the fact that she wanted my hands on her did crazy shit to my head and the bulge below my belt.

     The compound came into sight and the gates rolled open. The young prospect on guard standing by as we filed inside. Stryker was sponsoring the kid and I couldn’t remember his name. If I was being honest, I didn’t fuckin’ care. I tended not to worry with names until the prospects did something to either impress me or piss me the fuck off. Either way, the men had to get on my radar for me to consider their future with my club. So far, he had not.

     I nodded in his direction though and as soon as the group of us were inside, he rolled the gate closed again, reminding me of the days Clutch and I shared the same boring ass responsibilities of watching the gate. The compound was nothing more than an old warehouse about twenty miles outside of town. There was no one living or working remotely close to us and it served us well. The interior had been converted from a hollow old workshop to living quarters big enough for forty men. Private furnished rooms took up most of the upper level with space for all the fully-patched brothers and another four or five unclaimed spaces for overnighters stopping in from fellow chapters or those too trashed to drive home after a night of partying. The downstairs was always occupied. Lined with a couple pool tables, a bar stocked well enough to rival any watering hole in the biggest city, five long couches and four big screen televisions that ran damn near constantly.

     The older members mostly stayed in homes outside of town, only coming by for mandatory meetings and club functions. A few of the old ladies rotated shifts, cooking and cleaning for Pandemonium, while the men handled club business. The rest of the time the converted warehouse was a certifiable bachelor pad with a revolving door of women who enjoyed our company. Wannabe fender fluff looking for someone to hang on. The ladies that looked nice on the back of our bikes, but couldn’t hold our attention or a conversation for more than a night. It sounded chauvinistic, but the truth of the matter was that we served each other’s itch. None of the women came her unwillingly and drugs were strictly prohibited in the clubhouse. I didn’t trust men who were strung out to make decisions in the best interest of the club.

     I steered my bike into an open space up front and cut the engine. Tori didn’t move to get off and I could tell by the way she still clung to me that she was apprehensive as hell. She should be. She’d just ridden into unknown territory. I motioned for LoJack and Clutch to head inside with the others. It wasn’t unusual for the brothers to bring a woman back from time to time, but Tori did not exactly look the part. Hell, upon first look, I’d had no real clues she was involved with another MC. Apart from the leather boots, which were a new addition and hardly worn in, her skin was an empty canvas, not yet marked up with ink like so many of the other biker bunnies, and her body was void of piercings, besides the tiny diamond studs decorating her delicate lobes. Well, none that I could see anyway. The thought of exploring her body for confirmation made my dick ache even more.

     “You’ll be safe here. I got you.”

     Old women, sweaty locker rooms, Stryker’s tattooed hairy ass that no one should ever have to lay eyes on. I had to clear my head. There were too many sexy images of Tori bouncing around to stand with any dignity. If I didn’t get my shit together it would be painfully obvious how much she affected me in about five seconds. Shit, if she stared at me with those doe eyes one more time, I might be inclined to demonstrate my male appreciation before I even have a chance to earn her trust. That couldn’t happen. 

     I held out my hand, but Tori ignored it, grabbing my shoulders again and swinging her leg out to step off like a fucking pro. She was nervous, but hanging on to her anger. Good, I would let her be stubborn for now. Anger kept you pushing forward. I kicked the stand out and admired the way her blonde hair spilled out of my helmet. I was sure just the hint of her coconut shampoo left behind would have me semi-hard the next time I wore the damn thing. She saw me watching and a knowing smirk crossed her sweet lips. The first sign of a truce in nearly an hour. Had I spoken out loud?

     I rose from the bike and took her hand, pulling her towards the door.

     “One rule, babe.” She nodded and kept in step. “You’re with me. Nobody else will put their hands on you. Understand?”

     It was for her own protection. In my world, when an unfamiliar woman walked through the door, she became instant game unless one of the men claimed her off-limits. I wanted Tori in my sights. If the brothers thought she was mine, they would leave her alone, or suffer the consequences.

     “Yes,” was her simple reply, but it was the only one I needed.

I placed my hand around Tori’s waist, pushed in the heavy door and stepped inside. Clutch was already making his picks for the night by the bar. Motherfucker could snap his fingers and get laid and after the recent news I supposed he needed the release.

     LoJack sauntered from the kitchen with his mouth full and a plate stacked three-deep in sandwiches. Mama Jo could do amazing things in the kitchen. One of the men must have called ahead to warn her there were a group of tired and hungry bikers heading her way. Jo’s old man, Monster, was one of the original members with my Pops, but he passed away last year after a brutal battle with colon cancer. The woman was a saint in a warehouse full of sinners and she didn’t owe us a damn thing, but in her eyes this place was still home and we were her surrogate children. She was more of a mother to Clutch, LoJack, and myself than our own mothers had been. For that reason, I wanted to clue her in about Tori.  

     “Lo, keep Tori company for a minute, yeah?” I waited for his nod before I squeezed her shoulder and headed towards the kitchen.

     If Tori was bothered at all, she never let it show. Good girl. Inside Pandemonium’s clubhouse was not the place to show weakness. Her green eyes flicked to mine for the briefest moment and understanding crossed her features. She would stay put until I returned.

     Then, we were going to talk.