Chapter Seven
That evening, Justice felt like going on a drive because he’d had a long day and needed to clear his head. The open road relaxed him, and all his brothers felt the same way. They were always looking for an excuse to take off down the highway.
Once again, he wound up at Etta’s place, like his motorcycle had a mind of its own. He found Etta sitting on the front porch smoking a cigarette and leaning against the railing. It must be part of her evening routine.
From the grimace on her face, she hadn’t had a particularly fun day either. And she seemed lost in her own thoughts, eyes glassy and far away as she stared into the distance.
Justice killed the engine, and she glanced up, startled. He sprinted up the stairs to sit beside her. She offered a weak smile but didn’t say anything.
“Don’t know about you, but I could use a vacation.”
“Me too.” She offered him the longneck bottle in her hand. “Beer helps.”
“I thought we weren’t usin’ substances to hide our pain.”
“You wanna drink or not?” She slapped him playfully.
“Yeah.” He took a swig of the Bud Light. Not bad, but he preferred whiskey. “So who pissed in your oatmeal?”
“My ex-husband.”
He nearly choked on the alcohol. “You’ve mentioned him a time or two, but I thought he was in jail.”
Justice hadn’t established all the particulars. Every time he brought it up, she changed the subject real quick, and he couldn’t fault her for being guarded. He hadn’t opened up to her about everything yet. In his experience, even talking about some things could rip a person up inside.
“He was, but Grady just got paroled, and to celebrate, he sent me a potted plant.”
Maybe he was missing something here.
“And that’s awful because…?
“Those goddamn succulents were a head trip. He used to send them to me after we, er, fought.”
“After he hit you, you mean?” Justice figured as much from what little she’d said about the man.
She nodded stiffly.
He clenched the bottle in his fist. “Why don’t I pay him a visit and straighten ol’ Grady out for you?” Justice specialized in putting the fear of God in assholes, especially those who hurt women and children.
“No thanks.” She snatched the Bud back and took another sip. “I’m gonna handle this my way.”
She sounded sure, and Justice knew better than to argue. When a woman has made up her mind, it’s best to get out of the way. For now. If Etta’s solution didn’t work, Justice would step in.
“Fair enough, but let me know if you need any assistance?”
“Will do.”
“In the meantime, I got a distraction for ya.”
“Like what?” She seemed less than enthused.
“Come for a ride with me.”
“On your bike?” Etta surveyed the Harley like it was a sticky seat at the movie theater.
“Yeah, ever been on one?”
“Nope. It looks kinda dangerous.”
“Only if you’re ridin’ with an inexperienced biker. I got plenty of miles under my belt. What do you say?”
“I don’t know…”
“Come on. Let’s be free for a while, and run away from the world.”
He’d love nothing more than to disappear over the border, maybe find a nice beach to lay on, with Etta beside him in a tiny string bikini which left nothing to the imagination. They’d spend their days soaking in the sun and drinking margaritas. At night, they’d find other, more pleasurable ways to occupy the time.
Hot damn.
“Sure. Why not?” After draining the last of the beer, she glanced his way. There was a spark of mischief in her eyes. “I deserve a treat after such an awful day.”
“Great, but there’s a catch.”
That earned him a roll of her eyes. “Of course there is.”
“See my brothers and I got a tradition of sorts.”
“I already don’t like the sound of this.” She folded her arms and waited.
He snickered. “Don’t worry, it ain’t so bad. The clubhouse, Perdition, has a long line of panties hangin’ up by the bar. Whenever we give a lady a ride, she’s gotta give us her drawers. It’s sort of like a toll.”
“You’re outta your damn mind. I ain’t givin’ you my panties.”
“Yeah, you are.” He knew she’d hesitate initially. They all kicked up a fuss at first.
“Oh no, I’m not.” Etta headed for the front door, all fluffed up like an old wet hen.
Undaunted, Justice followed her inside, ready to plead his case. He intended to leave here this evening with her panties in his pocket.
“I ain’t goin’ with you.” Etta leaned against the kitchen counter.
“Yeah, you are.”
Justice didn’t mistake the way her nipples had pebbled, pressing against the thin white cotton of her T-shirt. The hoodie she wore wasn’t zipped, giving him an excellent view. And if he reached between her legs, Justice had no doubt she’d be wet for him, only a hint of moisture right now.
He stepped closer, and she didn’t back off. Justice kept right on coming until he closed the distance between them.
Etta didn’t move away, but her lips parted.
And then Justice did what he’d been longing to do for weeks, he grasped her by the arms, tilted her head back and kissed her. Ever so soft at first, a smooth slide of his mouth against hers. Etta moaned, head tilting back, giving him full access to her honeyed lips.
Justice felt like crowing.
As he kissed Etta, Justice eased his hands up and down the sides of her body. She grasped his shoulders, tugging him closer. So he wasn’t the only one who wanted this.
Fuck that. Needed it.
Their tongues tangled, dancing with one another, and all the while she edged her hips against his. He wondered if she could feel how fucking hard she made him, how needy. His cock pushed against his fly, greedy to get at her.
Justice scooped Etta up and placed her on the counter, right beside the sink. He dragged his hands over her breasts, still covered by the flimsy shirt, and the nipples stood even stiffer.
Her body was plush and perfect. While she wasn’t big, Etta had a womanly frame—breasts and hips, and curves in all the places he liked. He ached to see those big tits. Justice longed for the weight of them in his hands, wanted to squeeze them, suck them.
She wrapped her legs around his hips, and he pressed between them, pushing her thighs even further apart.
Justice leisurely slipped the edge of her top up, eyes locked on hers all the while, in case she said no, but he saw nothing but passion and hunger in her eyes. He palmed her tits through the scant cotton bra. They were fucking scrumptious, two swollen mounds. When Justice couldn’t stand the tease anymore, he grasped the band at the bottom and pushed it up until they bounced free.
Etta was every bit as lovely as he’d imagined.
The rosy nipples were swollen, standing out from her breasts, all rigid and impudent as though insisting on being in his mouth. She moaned as he bent to suck on a nipple. He drew on it until she inched closer to him, hips bucking.
Justice paused to taste her mouth once more, and kissed the length of her neck, sliding down to bite her nipples playfully, squeezing her. Women loved to be teased, enticed, and he was a master at the game. They had to be warmed up for a long, hard ride, exactly like his Harley.
He brought his hands to the button of her jeans, and when she didn’t protest, he flicked the button open and then eased the zipper down with a raspy whir. He took them off and tossed the material aside. Beneath the denim, she wore a white cotton pair of panties dotted with red roses. Not the sexiest he’d ever seen, but they were pure Etta, practical but feminine.
Justice slipped them off, and she lifted her hips to give him access. He tucked the panties into his back pocket for safe-keeping. He already knew he couldn’t bear to part with them, tradition be damned.
Then she opened her legs wide for him. And he got to see the hot, slick center of her. A spicy ginger cloud covered her swollen pink lips. Moisture drenched the curls already.
He started from the top again—her mouth and neck, her shoulders, then down to her nipples, and then her belly. Her skin was soft and supple. He’d like to lay her down and just stroke her, enjoy the sensation of his skin on hers.
She’s definitely an angel. All that’s missin’ is a pair of wings.
He waited until she was yielding, head lolling back, legs open for him. Only then, did he allow himself to stroke her pussy, just brushing her slippery skin, making her arch into his palm.
Justice knelt on the linoleum and then she was at the perfect height for his mouth. He wanted to ask Etta if this was okay, but he was half-afraid to speak up and break the spell. Any second now, he feared she’d put a stop to his exploration and leave him with a raging hard-on.
Justice shot a glance at her face, watching for any hesitation, but he saw none. Her cheeks were flushed, eyes glassy.
With a grin, he surged closer, eager to please her, make Etta come for him. Justice couldn’t wait for his first taste of her.
Nearly there…
“Justice, wait.”
His hands stilled on her thighs, his lips a fraction from heaven. Gritting his teeth, he pulled back, moving away from temptation.
“Yeah, Etta?”
“I….I don’t think this is a good idea.”
He closed his eyes. “It’s a fuckin’ great idea if you ask me, but whatever the lady wants.”
Justice loved nothing more than flirting, seducing women into his bed, but if they didn’t want to go along with his desires, he wasn’t an asshole about it. He never tried to sweet-talk or push women into doing something they didn’t want to do. Even if it killed him, like now.
He got to his feet. “Fair enough, but I’m keepin’ the panties.” Justice plucked them from his pocket to show her, and then stashed them away once more.
She hopped off the counter and shimmied into her jeans, those tempting titties bouncing in the most distracting way.
Justice swallowed, fascinated by the sight. “Do it again.”
“Shut up.” She blushed furiously.
“Never. Well, if I can’t give you that kind of ride, what do you say about takin’ one on my bike instead?”
“You still wanna go?”
“Of course I do, besides you already paid the toll.” He leered.
She sighed.
“Anyhow, I’m a patient man. Sooner or later, you’re gonna take me up on my offer.”
“You think?” Her eyes narrowed.
“Angel, I already know.”
“Angel?”
“Yeah, it’s my nickname for you. Like it?”
His answer was a small, pleased smile.
Justice led her to his bike. After she’d placed the helmet on her head, and he’d snapped the chin strap in place, he started the bike up and held out his hand to her.
“I don’t know about this.”
“Trust me, it’ll be fine.” Gingerly, she threw a leg over. “Mind the pipes, or they’ll give you a nasty burn.” He’d gotten more injuries than he cared to admit.
After she got situated, he took them for a long ride—away from Hell and Crimson Creek, until they were on a stretch of wide open road. The wind buffeted their bodies, as the engine growled beneath them. The sun was sinking in the sky, and the heavens had turned a gorgeous pinkish orange.
Life don’t get much better than this.
Etta seemed to enjoy herself, too. She gave the occasional shout of pure joy as he snaked around a curve or sped up. His motorcycle was better than any damn roller coaster on the planet.
The noises she made, made him wonder if she’d be just as vocal in bed. With a bit of coaxing, he bet she could be a wild one. Justice would find out soon enough.
“If you hold your arms out, it feels like you’re flyin’.”
“I’m sure it does until you fall off and get a nasty case of road rash.” She leaned closer, her lips were against his ear, breasts pressed into his back.
Damn. His cock twitched in response.
“Wanna try it?”
“Is it safe?”
“Sure it is. I’m keepin’ my eyes straight ahead and my fingers on the handlebars, just hold onto me tight. I won’t let anythin’ happen to you.”
The silence stretched between them.
“Grady told me the same thing once.”
“Well, I mean it.” Justice silently willed her to trust him.
After a moment, she spoke up again. “Okay. What do I do?”
“Squeeze your legs around me tighter, wrap them around my hips.”
“I see.” Her breath tickled his ear once more. “So, you’ve got ulterior motives, huh?”
“Yup, always check the fine print.”
“Hmm, I’m rethinkin’ this.”
“Oh? Remember when you had second thoughts about givin’ me your drawers, and then you surrendered?”
“You’re an ass.” She smacked his back, and he chuckled.
“Guilty as charged. So are you gonna fly, Angel?”
“Yeah.” And then she raised her arms. Justice kept the speed steady. Her thighs were locked around his hips, and she let out another cry of pure delight.
His heart swelled. “Feel good?”
“Yes!” Etta laughed. “Check me out, I’m flyin’. Too bad you can’t try it out.”
“Oh, don’t worry about me none.”
“Why?”
“Believe me, I’m havin’ a good time.”
Even being this close to her was electrifying. Justice realized he felt contented, whole somehow. It wasn’t about sex or romance, although that was part of Etta’s appeal. She lightened his mood, brought him joy.
“Yeah, but I’m havin’ a better one.”
“Fair enough. Tell you what, when we get back to your place, we can finish what we started in the kitchen, then we’ll be even.”
Etta giggled. “You’re relentless.”
“Yes, ma’am, and you’d better square with that.” He sighed. “I promised myself I’d stay away from you. You’re a citizen, and you don’t belong in my world.” Bikers used the word “citizen” like military personnel used “civilian.”
“No, I don’t.” Yet, she held him closer.
“Not to mention, I’m a hot mess right now. I can’t even sleep through the night, but I refuse to walk away from you, not now.” Maybe not ever. “So I’m puttin’ you on notice.”
“Notice?” She sounded wary.
“I want you, Etta, in my life, and in my bed. And I ain’t gonna stop when I’m between those sugar sweet thighs again. Only next time, I’m gonna get a taste of you, and then we’ll really see how high you can fly.”