Sunny
This is too good to be true. Like, for real. First of all, I just had one of the best lays in my entire life with this guy who looks like he is part caveman, part motorcycle magazine cover model. And now, despite being pissed at me for the whole bet thing, he’s going to give me the one thing I need to prove that I conquered him.
Well, conquered is pretty subjective, I suppose. In all honesty, I’m not entirely sure who, in this tangled mess of hotel bed sheets, really won over the other.
I clutch the charm to my bare chest, patting it gently with my fingertips. It was cash in my hand and a reward for a job well done. I wasn’t about to let this go until I absolutely have to. I even kept hold of it last night as I slept next to Bear. His large arm was draped around my hips, and his warm hand rested against my sex almost protectively. I could feel his breath like wind through my hair, and his quiet snore rattled my body the few hours I managed to keep my eyes shut. I loved it. The feeling of a man holding tight to me was nothing I ever thought I would want, but there is something so comforting in the feeling that nothing was out there that could harm me like this.
But now, in the morning light, everything is different. Bear’s hold on me is smothering. It’s keeping me in place when all I want to do is roll over, adjust the pillow, or reach down for the pair of panties I stripped off last night. It’s funny how fast that mood changes when it is in the light of day.
I start testing him to see how soundlessly he’s sleeping. First, I begin picking at some of the patches of his tan skinned arms—just small pinches and plucks to measure his reflexes. Nothing. To my surprise, he doesn’t even roll over to avoid me! I move it up a level by beginning to press my bony elbow in his side and kick at his kneecaps. Again, nothing.
With him not showing any signs of life besides the breathing and snoring, I take his wrist in my hands and gently move it up and off of me. Freeing myself, I replace my body with a pillow I’ve been laying on all night and replace his arm around it instead. He still doesn’t stir.
I take a step back to examine him. He’s quite the creature. I’ve never seen a guy like him, and that’s saying something. Bear’s skin is wind-worn and red in spots, especially at the high apples of his cheeks and along his third day stubble-covered chin. His hair is wild and untamed. The girl in me wants nothing more than to run my fingers through the matted tangles near the ends or at least give the guy a haircut. It would help see the chocolate colored eyes that bore holes through me last night. His pale pink lips pout as he sleeps almost like a fish gulping through the water.
Of course, there’s that body too. I didn’t get much of a glimpse of it last night since I was the one that was on display the majority of the time. This morning, I get to admire the statue of a man that is not only a prize fighter but a damn good lover. He is mostly muscles—they’re chiseled and defined along his abs and arms. His thin legs curl around the comforter with a pair of gigantic feet resting off the end of the bed.
Most girls would fall for him because he looks just like a giant. But where Bear wins me over are the dark tattoos that line his arms, chest, and shoulders. Most have club stuff—the symbols and signs I am used to seeing on long-term members of a club. I’m more curious of that large bear print drawn on his heart. Every tattoo tells a story. I wonder what this one means.
I don’t have time to wonder, though. If I’m going to slip out of here without him noticing me, I’ve gotta be quick and quiet. The last thing I want to do is talk to him. And I suspect the feeling is totally mutual. A guy like him most likely knows how this goes. The visiting party slips out in the morning, and the other doesn’t give a shit. It’s quick, painless, and less chance of making an attachment for both sides.
I grab my panties, bra, and dress and throw them on as quickly as I can. In the mirror, I use the few things in my purse to reapply my makeup and tie my hair back into a messy bun at the top of my head. I was never into that walk of shame look. If I plan on going back to the Filthy Bastards, where everyone knows or suspects I had sex with a Wilderkind guy, I best, at least, look decent.
Ugh. My boots are M.I.A. They have to be under the bed. I kicked them off as I soon as I got through the door last night, and I vaguely remember them sliding out of site when we began screwing. I get down on my knees and check under the sheets to pull them out from their hiding spot.
“You’re gonna need to put something on that back of yours.”
Gah! My head slams into the metal bed frame with a smack. What the hell was he thinking scaring me like that! If this leaves a permanent mark, I swear to God, I’m gonna…
“I’m serious, Sunny. That shit looks bad.”
I scoot myself out from under the bed fully to see Bear with his head draped over the side staring at me. He’s got that wicked smile on his face that I’d love to swat off of him.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Your back. From last night.” I give him the most clueless, disinterested look I can muster up before he adds, “It’s rough and raw from when I took you up against the wall. You’re gonna need to put something over it, or the guys will think I whipped you with cattails… though I have to admit that sounds fucking hot.”
I raise my arm over my shoulder and gently press down on the marks. He’s right. As soon as I touch the skin, an instant sting shocks me. I can’t believe I didn’t notice the pain or tenderness until now. I walk over to the mirror to get a better glimpse of the damage. Yikes! Dammit! It’s so bad I cringe at my own appearance.
Without thinking, I ask Bear, “Do you have anything I can cover this up with?”
“Just my jacket. I don’t think you’ll want to go back wearing that.” He laughs.
“No, I guess I’m going to have to pull this look off or…” My eyes dart over to his black T-shirt.
“No. No way.”
“Come on, Bear. They’re going to think you did this shit to me.”
“I did do it, Sunny. I’m not gonna regret that one bit!”
“You know what I mean you asshole.”
He stands to his feet and then darts off towards the shirt. I’m quicker, having been in track all through high school. I manage to grab the shirt right out from under him.
“Fuck off!” he shouts as he pulls me to the ground. “That’s stealing, girl! And you already tried that once from me.”
“Come on! You injured me!” I laugh as his weight crushes me into the musty carpet. “Be nice and give me the shirt to use. I’ll give it back.”
“Hell nah! It’s mine. And you should know by now that I’m never, ever, nice.”
“Really?” I ask as he eases off of me slightly. “You were kind of a pussycat in bed last night.”
“Hey!” he shouts, going back to straddling me on the floor. “Do you know what kind of fucking insult that is to a guy like me? I should punish you for that.”
“Punish me?” I stare back up at him. He grabs my arms and places them behind my back. A hand moves under the tight hem of my dress and lifts it up and over my hips. He slips my underwear off without my permission, not that he would care about that. Without any warning whatsoever, I feel the slap of his palm on me.
“Ah! Come on! Why would you—”
SLAP! Another hand hits me.
“Don’t question me,” he growls. “I’ll do it again.”
I’m not a sadist, and I’m certainly not one of those kinky girls who are into the whole being punched around thing. There are street girls in the club that make a good living being on the receiving end of that shit. But with Bear, I have to admit that feeling of him dominating me like this is a complete and total turn-on. He’s not hitting me hard—it’s just enough to make me a little raw. But what I do feel sends shivers up my spine, and my legs peel apart for him.
“Now,” he says, “are you ready to behave and give me my damn shirt back?”
“What do I have to do to keep it?” I throw back.
“I think you know the answer to that one.”
“Deal.”
Two strong arms reach around me before I can have a second thought. They scoop me up into his arms and place me around his front so that my legs are straddling his. I lay my arms around his head, and he pulls me into him so close that I can count the freckles that dot his nose and the few gray strands that hide within his hair. We’re so close that it’s like a magnet is pulling the two of us together so that we’re crashing, crashing, crashing towards a kiss.
His moist mouth opens up to let me in, and I can’t help but bite down and suck along the juiciest parts of his lips. I can’t get enough of him, despite my better urges to run the fuck away. He’s so good. The scent of sex rises between us and the carpet burns along my knees from us rocking back and forth in place.
Below my hips, his stiffening cock presses itself against me. There’s no way I can avoid that monstrosity. The man is packing and packing heavy. And he knows what to do when he’s locked, loaded, and ready to go.
“Why the fuck are you still wearing this goddamn dress?” he asks while pulling the material up and over my head. “Get it off. I want to see those pretty little tits of yours.” Bear dives his head straight into my cleavage. His strong hands press and massage my mounds against his face until the nipples curl into his mouth one after another.
The sensation is insane. My body goes wild with need while he continues to fondle and tease me. His thumbs roll across the tips of my nipples... his fingers pinch... and his hands massage. He plays with my chest like an expert sculptor at work. I can’t help but let out a small, urgent groan of pleasure.
“You like this?” he asks me, “You get off on that?” Underneath me, at my panty line, his knee makes contact with my sex. It follows the pattern of my hands as it brushes up hard against my folds, which are still feeling it from yesterday’s fuck.
“I want to see you come, Sunny. I want to watch you lose control,” he growls while his hand takes over where his knee is. The thin fabric of my underwear moves to the side while he spreads the top of my vagina wide for him to find a landing spot right against my clit. Bullseye. He’s so fucking good at this, I don’t even need to walk him through where to go to find my pleasure spot. And by the way I instantly tilt my head back and let out a rush of air, he knows he’s hit it as well.
“There we go,” he whispers in my ear as I press my body into his. “I know you want this.” His hand tilts to the side so that one finger slips right in between my legs. The combination of him entering me and his fingers rubbing my clit sends me out of my freaking mind. The pressure of his touch, the roughness of his urgency, and the need for him to fill me up are incredibly overwhelming. I throw my arms back around him and place my head upon his shoulder. My lips kiss and lick at his salty, sweaty skin while I tell myself not to scream. You never want a guy to know just how much you love it.
But it quickly becomes too much for me to take. This guy, this insane madman of a guy, will not relent. With his fingers gliding in and out of me, I can barely tell what way is up or down. My head spins, and the pit of my stomach grows until it sinks down to between my legs. My knees begin to tremble, and I give in knowing that it’s near. With three more quick strokes, my body becomes a supernova bursting through the sky. My lower half pulsates rapidly while my juices pour out of me.
Bear should pull away. Most guys do, but he seems to enjoy feeling my orgasm. With me limp in his arms, he pulls back and offers me the hand that was inside of him.
“Taste yourself,” he commands. I give him a half-hearted lick. I can barely muster up enough energy to look at him, let alone play his games, but he forces the fingers deep into my mouth.
While I’m focusing on my earthy, sweet taste, I barely process that he’s gearing up and ready to go. The entire time he was getting me off, I could feel his cock growing more against my leg, but now he is massaging my folds with the tip of his member. The smooth skin of his organ delicately pushes aside my soaking wet lips. And like that, he enters me completely unannounced. I scream as he moves me towards him so that my hips line up with his girthy, long shaft.
“It’s my turn now,” he snarls, looking more like his namesake than ever. Those brown eyes light up like fire in the night. I swear I can see sparks dancing near his black pupils. Along my back, he paws at me, grabbing at what little fat I’ve got on me for support. His hips move upwards, forcing himself even deeper into me, and then he begins to bounce.
The drive of him launching straight up in down barrels into me. I really don’t need to do a thing with his strength, but I’m no fuck doll who just lays there and takes it. When a guy like him pleases me as good as he just has, I give him what he’s owed too. I manage to position myself up on my heels so that I can squat further down on him. It takes me a few strokes to match his rhythm, but as we slowly line up, it’s hard not to follow his beat.
With both of us linked together, there is no stopping us. He doesn’t slow or play stupid games with his cock. He has one thing in mind and one thing only—to finish. And I’m more than eager to help him out. My body dives into him while his drives into mine over and over again, each time going faster and faster until I don’t think I can hold on anymore. Eventually, he wins out. I topple onto him so that he’s forced backward. His arms catch him just enough so that his head leans against the front of the bed and he rests on his elbows. He somehow manages to do it without missing a beat.
I gasp for air, struggling to keep up.
“Bear… God… Bear….” I mutter under my breath, “I love how you… how you...” My mind drifts away again as I feel it coming back—that sensation deep within my stomach growing larger than a crater. It needs to be filled by him. He pulls me down so that I lay on top of his stomach. His hips rise, and his shaft pummels into me. I claw at the carpet until it comes like a crash. My eyes shut, and I hold on tight.
“Sunny!” he shouts into my hair. “Fuck! Sunny!” His hips ease up slightly, and his dick pushes three long, deep thrusts into me. With my head on his chest, I can hear his heart thump rapidly against his dripping wet skin. I place my hand along the bear claw as he settles back in.
We both lay there for a moment, unsure of what to say. Do I thank him for that second strong showing? Do I ghost out of here without saying a word like my original plan? Or do I just chill and wait for him to force me out? This shouldn’t be so awkward for a girl like me, but with Bear, there were so many questions and landmines to potentially trip on. I don’t want to be that girl.
“Well, well…” he finally sighs, “I guess I can let you go now. You earned my shirt, but you’re gonna have to figure out what to do with your knees because I’m sure not giving you my pants.” It dawns on me that my original purpose was getting his shirt to hide my back. I glance down at my legs and see that now my legs are just as beat up from the friction of the carpet.
“I’ll just say I tripped,” I laugh as I peel myself off of him and over towards my dress. I quickly get dressed while he goes on.
“Tripped on my cock?”
“Oh, shut up. It’s gonna be hell enough getting back with everyone ribbing me for this. I don’t need you adding to the trouble.”
“You wanna know my secret?” he asks as I nod with a slight hesitation. He grabs my hand, yanking me back down to him. I somehow naturally rest within his arms as he whispers in my ear, “I don’t fucking care what anyone else thinks.”
“I can tell, but you’re not me. You’re not club property either.”
“You could say that, but I’ve got just as much, if not more, reputation to uphold than you do. I’m gonna hear about this shit for the rest of my life.”
“Well, then it’s a good thing you won’t be seeing me again.”
“I suppose it is,” he says, his smile disappearing.
“Yeah,” I chirp back. I’m not sure if I should be insulted or relieved by his cold response, but I’m realistic, so it’s not like I’m expecting romance and rainbows. That shit is for girls with home mortgages and Gucci purses. Romance isn’t for women like me who do their men on the back of bikes and put brands on their shoulders for the clubs they want to be a part of. There are no happy endings for people like Bear and me—ever. I’m not sure why I would expect it now.
“I guess I should be going,” I announce as I find my purse. “You need anything from me, well, I guess you know where to find me.”
“Yeah,” he says from the floor of the motel room. “You too, Sunny.”
I walk myself out the door and into the sunlight. The bright California light practically blinds me after spending all night and day in that stuffy room. And it quickly dawns on me what rough shape I really am in. My legs tremble, my pussy’s sore as hell, and my head is throbbing from the unnoticed hangover. But what’s killing me now is the sinking feeling that something is off or that I forgot something. I hate these fucking feelings where I can’t tell my left from my right, and nothing really makes sense. I should be feeling like the damn Queen of Sheba after a conquest like that, but there’s a tugging feeling that just won’t go away every step I take towards the street.
With the motel room and Bear’s vintage motorcycle behind me for good, I hail a taxi back to headquarters. The whole while, I go through what I need to say and who I need to shut up around. There’s to be no bragging around the guys, no talking about how good or bad Bear was in the sack. I’d be careful around Mary and Larissa as well. They blab about every fucking thing. Kitka will just get the charm I’m carrying around. She didn’t need to know the rest. The other girls could get some more of the juicy gossip if they were trustworthy. Not many were, though. Here I was going through each one of the ladies one by one, and even though I’m surrounded by these girls each and every day, I’m realizing just how alone I actually am.
After the fight last night, the mood is definitely sourer than before. The men grunt acknowledgments at me, and some look as if they could snap at me at any second. I quickly dart out of the common area (where they sip their beers and talk about the day’s assignments) and over towards the kitchens where the ladies hang out when they aren’t on duty or back at their apartments above the warehouse.
“Well, look at what the cat dragged in,” Larissa squeals as she sees me.
“More like who the cat tore apart, spat out, and threw back.” Mary laughs. “What the fuck happened to you? You look like shit.”
“Thanks. It’s great to see you, girls, too,” I reply deadpan. “I’m fine. Just hungover and tired.”
“You’re pretty beat up over there. I can see those knees of yours got some work.” Mary winks at me, and I’m about ready to rip her eyeball out.
“Leave her alone,” Kitka says as she appears in the doorway. “A skinned knee doesn’t mean she got the job done.”
“Pay up.” I smile as I reach into my purse and retrieve Bear’s charm. “He gave it to me himself.”
She looks at me slightly impressed. “I honestly thought you wouldn’t go through with it. But then again, you would do anything, wouldn’t you?”
“What the hell does that mean, Kitka?” I shout at her.
“Oh, just that some girls, like you, don’t really know when to stop.”
“You’re the one that egged me on and made the bet with me.”
“But you’re the one who slept with the enemy, Sunny.”
She has a point, and I fucking hate her for it. I didn’t have to let my pride get in the way, but there’s something about Kitka that could drive me to punch a wall with my bare knuckles. The fact that she looks at me like I’m the guilty party is something else.
I’m about ready to explode, so I hold out my hand for her. She pulls out a stack of cash from her back pocket and begins to count out the twenty dollar bills. As she hands me the last one, she places her hand around the stack and says, “There’s one more thing, Sunny. There are some rules you need to know about before you go anywhere.”
“What rules?” I ask, not believing a word that comes out of her scummy mouth.
“Don’t worry. I talked to Killer about this already. Girls who sleep with other club members have to take a bath… to wash the dirt off of them.”
“A bath? So what. I’ll do that at home before the party tonight.”
“Oh, tsk tsk. I wish it were that easy.” She laughs as she throws back her black hair. “But this bath has to be in public. In front of all us girls and whoever walks through here so we can see you really get that Wilderkind scent off of you.”
“You’re fucking kidding,” I say. I’ve never heard of this rule in my entire time at the club. Then again, none of the other girls have ever slept with a member of another club. There’s really no point in arguing if Killer’s approved of this, but I’m not about to just go along with Kitka’s plan so easily.
Kitka slides her way up to me, inches from my face, as she whispers, “No, I’m not fucking kidding anyone. It’s your fault you acted like a little slut, and now you’ll pay.”
“You did this, Kitka. I get that now. You set this whole thing up to get me in bad with the club. You bitch.”
“And you fell for it.” She smiles before turning around to the rest of the group who are practically salivating at our fight. “Ladies! Let’s get the tub! It’s gonna have to be a big one for a girl like Sunny.”
They bring out an inflatable kiddie pool the club uses for the occasional mud wrestling match and fill it with the hose from the back. For kicks, the girls use dish soap for bubbles and toss in a few toys they find around the back. When everything’s ready, Mary walks over to me and says, “You need me to help you with those clothes or…”
This is it. This is my breaking point. I can get hazed by Kitka with tears in my eyes, or I can take it like the kickass woman that I am and do it my way. With my head held high, I remove Bear’s borrowed shirt and my dress from last night. I fold each carefully on the chair before removing my panties and bra next. The girls stare at me as I calmly walk over to the pool, dip my toe in, and then force myself to sit in the knee deep, freezing water. Only once I’m in do they force themselves to laugh.
“Scrub,” Kitka commands as she throws me some hand towels from the kitchen.
The first of the guys walk in moments later. Some chuckle and keep moving, while the more pervy ones watch me from the chairs around the kitchen prep area. No one says a word in my defense, not even Ricco who looks smugger than Kitka at my punishment.
Luckily for me, the bubbles the girls tossed in keep me well concealed. I don’t break my gaze from the crowd as I use the towel to wash and scrub at every bit of my body. I don’t want to risk Kitka making me do it over again. When it’s time to wash my hair, I ask for a bucket of clean water, and Mary turns up at my side with a pale much warmer than what I’m sitting in. I have her pour it over my head, and to my surprise, she doesn’t just dump it on me. She sprinkles it over me, allowing me to run my hands through the tangles and add a layer of soap to it. When she’s done, she throws me a look that’s a mixture of pity and friendship—an expression I’ve never imagined Mary could make.
I sit in this stupid fucking tub for about an hour until I suspect each and every guy has had a chance at seeing the show. It’s not until Cobra and Killer walk through that I know my time is done.
“Get her out,” Killer whispers to Kitka. His stoney face is unreadable, but part of me thinks that he’s not terribly impressed by what’s going on.
The men clear out quick, and the girls go to look for a clean towel. While I sit waiting, Killer leans over me and coughs before speaking, “You look beat up. Did that bastard do something to you?”
Whoa. I am totally shocked by this. Kitka is too. He’s not a man of many words, and the words I’ve heard him utter haven’t been pleasant. But there’s a hint of caring in his voice.
My own trembles as I answer, “No. He didn’t do anything. This was… I fell.”
“If he did…”
“He didn’t. It wasn’t a big deal.” Yikes. I know that’s a mistake as it slips out of my mouth.
“What you did last night was a fucking big deal, whether you think so or not, Sunny. You’re not gonna forget it, I suspect.”
I doubt I—or any member of the Filthy Bastards—will ever forget the day I slept with Bear.