After finding out my point of contact could speak English not very well, I learned every member of the club spoke Spanish not at all. A quick inventory of the Ol’ Ladies produced not one single Spanish speaking person. Having the ability to effectively communicate while trying to sell 100 AK-47’s to a first time customer was instrumental to the success of the sale. Frustrated, and not willing to lose a deal due to the incompetence of the club, I opted to find someone who did speak Spanish; someone who would be willing to go to a simple drop-off site and watch Otis and me sell a few guns to a Mexican street gang. The only drawback was it had to be someone I could trust, and I didn’t trust anyone outside the club.

Knowing if this deal fell apart, I was risking the life of one of the strongest members of the club, I decided to go beyond the boundaries of what I would normally do, and consider the help of an outsider. After all, the deal we were doing was legal and legitimate. Including an outsider in the transaction didn’t expose the club to any real risk. The Sureños may not have legal intentions with the weapons after they receive them from the club, but that was none of my or anyone else’s business.

A Google search confirmed a degree in Criminal Justice required a foreign language class, and my guess was Avery’s choice would have been Spanish. Contrary to my typical beliefs and behaviors, the club was asked, and they voted in favor of her being my Spanish speaking assistant. It was further agreed Otis and I would be the two members to do the deal with the Sureños. Otis’ size alone would be intimidating to a bunch of short Mexicans, which should minimize the potential for anyone trying anything stupid. If she agreed, Avery could simply stand on the side, look pretty, and tell me what the little fuckers were really saying. In my opinion, with Otis and Avery participating in the transaction, there was little risk to the club that anything could go wrong with the deal.

We would have brains, brawn, and the ability to communicate clearly.

After much thought and a long mental battle with myself about the inclusion of an outsider in what I believed to be club business, I fully accepted the decision the club had already made, and began my journey to find Avery. Frank provided me with Avery’s apartment number, and I rode there to discuss matters with her. Even though it was settled with the club, in my mind it was still rather undecided. As she opened the door, the expression on her face made her level of surprise quite clear.

“Got a minute?” I asked.

She stood wide eyed with her mouth agape. “Yeah, come in.”

Still standing in the center of the doorway, she stared. I motioned for her to move so I could step into the house, “You’re going to need to step aside if you want me to come in.”

“Uhhm. How’d you find me?” she stammered.

“I’m resourceful. I told you that,” I responded jokingly.

“So, you come by to give me that ride?” she asked as she flopped down on the couch.

The apartment was much smaller than small. Although I hadn’t been in the bedrooms, I could see in the doorway of each room. The apartment was approximately six hundred square feet from what I could tell, roughly twenty feet wide and thirty feet deep. Two people living in it was one person too many. A small desk at one side, a bathroom on the opposite wall, a couch, and two chairs were the extent of the furnishings. I sat in the chair beside the couch and turned to face Avery.

“Not exactly,” I said as the bathroom door opened.

“Hey,” Sloan said as she walked by.

“How’s it going, Sloan?” I responded over my shoulder, somewhat shocked she was at the apartment.

She was dressed in sweats that were too small and a tee shirt that did a half-assed job of covering her torso. Her stomach was exposed, and it was apparent she couldn’t pull the shirt down any further. I’d seen a lot of women in my days around the fellas who had big tits, but sitting this close to Sloan and actually seeing her, I would have to admit her tits were the biggest I had ever seen. Half embarrassed by her appearance, I quickly turned toward Avery.

“So, what the fuck?” Avery shrugged.

I sat silently and looked around the room. I hadn’t planned on Sloan being at Avery’s house and she certainly wasn’t part of the equation. I’ve never been a paranoid man, and I wouldn’t consider myself a nervous person, but I was always safe; erring on the side of caution. I reached down, pulled the rubber band to the point of breaking it, and released it.

Snap!

I stared blankly at my wrist as I snapped it three more times equally as hard. Now feeling as if I could sense my heart beating in my inflamed wrist, I looked up at Avery.

“You got any glasses? Like sunglasses?” I asked.

God damn it Axton.

She looked confused. “Yeah, why?”

“Grab ‘em. We’re going for a ride,” I said as I stood.

It’s just a ride Axton, nothing more.

You’re using her for a mouthpiece on a gun deal, that’s it. 

“Seriously?” she squealed as she bounced up from the couch.

I looked around the apartment. Sloan stood in the doorway of the bedroom, looking in the mirror. She was all of ten feet away.

I tilted my head toward the door. “Yeah, grab ‘em. Let’s get out of here.”

“Sloan, I’m going with Axton on his bike,” Avery hollered across the tiny apartment.

Sloan responded, stretching the word along for a good five seconds. “Okay,”

Sloan peered around the frame of the door and gave a half-assed grin. As Avery grabbed her purse, she pulled out her glasses and put them on. She was wearing jean shorts that barely cupped the bottom of her ass cheeks and a tight tee shirt. I glanced down at her feet.

Sneakers.

I smiled and reached for the door handle. “Ready?”

“Uh huh,” she smiled.

“Alright, listen up. There’s a few rules you’ll have to follow,” I said as I opened the door.

As she stepped into the doorway, she stopped, pulled off the sunglasses, and stared into my eyes. Now sharing the space in the opening of the door, she stood mere inches from me. For the first time, I realized just how tall she was. Our noses not more than an inch apart, we stood in the doorway, our eyes locked. As a light breeze blew, I caught the faint smell of her perfume; a very light floral scent.

God damn she smells good.

“You tell me what to do, and I’ll do it. It’s that simple,” she said without expression.

I pursed my lips and narrowed my gaze. “That’s a bold statement, you better be careful, little girl.”

She stood with her sunglasses dangling from her fingertips, still shoehorned into the small opening of the doorway. I stood with my back against the frame of the door, refusing to be the one who moved out of the way first. She blinked her eyes and tilted her head slightly.

She smiled a shitty little flirtatious smile. “Think about that. Whatever you say, I’ll do it. Use your imagination, Axton. I sure am.”

I stood and continued to stare at her. Thoughts of shoving her against the wall, pulling her shorts down around her ankles, and fucking her long-legged little ass while she still wore her sneakers began to fill my mind. I sensed my cock beginning to swell at the thought of her doing whatever I told her. The fellas from the poker run in Wichita were spot on. She was a little firecracker, and she seemed to know exactly what to do to push my buttons. I had no business with this cute little bitch on the back of my bike, but I had no other alternative. For the sake of the club, this gun deal had to happen. As I felt the fabric of my jeans beginning to stretch from my overly active imagination, I shook my head and stepped out of the doorway.

As I turned and walked to the stairs, she immediately followed behind me. I pressed my hand against my jeans, attempting to force my cock to relax and become a little less noticeable before we got to the motorcycle. As we reached the bottom landing, I turned toward the bike and pushed against my still rigid dick with the heel of my palm and kept my back to Avery.

Generally speaking, I was able to keep my mind focused and prevent my cock from swelling without my approval. Actually, in the last fifteen years, I have had quite the opposite problem; focusing enough to get hard was proving to be difficult. Standing with my back to Avery and pressing down on my slowly rising cock was further proof I had very little control over my mind and what subconscious inner thoughts I had of fucking her. I had no business being in a relationship with a woman, and doing so was still the furthest thing from my mind, but bending her over and fucking her senseless was becoming more and more of a full-fledged desire than in inner thought. I felt like I was a pubescent teen again.

“Is there a problem?” she asked.

Fuck it, just hop on the bike Slice. She won’t notice.

I turned, threw my leg over the bike, and looked down at my rigid but not quite as noticeable cock. I propped my feet up on the pegs and bend my knees a little to provide some relief.

I turned slightly and pointed to the rear passenger pegs. “Nope. Get on, and put your feet on those pegs.”

“Keep your bare legs away from the exhaust. It’ll burn you to the bone,” I said as I motioned toward the two exhaust pipes.

“Just relax, and don’t flop around. Wrap your arms around my waist and hold on until you’re comfortable. And leave the glasses on, it’s a requirement and it’ll keep bugs out of your eyes. And when you get on, don’t drag your shoe over the fender. It ain’t scratched now, and I don’t want the motherfucker any different when we’re done,” I said over my shoulder.

“Easy schmeezy,” she said as she stretched one of her long legs over the bike.

  As she wrapped her arms around me and pressed her inner thighs against the sides of my ass, the heart beat in my pants provided me a little reminder of the fact my outward intentions and my inner mind were worlds apart. 

Worlds apart.