“Dude, we’re gonna have to go soon if they don’t get here. Your brother has smoked about a pack of cigarettes waiting. The last thing that we want is for this Jett fucker to come looking for him,” Blaze said as he walked out onto the porch and sat down on the swing next to Scott.
“She texted me. They’re almost here.” Scott’s eyes stayed on the road. Not that he was thrilled with this plan anyway. “I still think it’s a terrible idea to take her. I should just go and do the drop with Chad.” Scott loved his brother but there was no way he was handing him twenty-five grand in cash and trusting that his brother would take it straight to the motorcycle clubhouse without stopping at his dealer’s house first. “Remind me, again, how you convinced me to let her go along?”
“Because you’ve been an overbearing, overprotective asshole this week and your girl needs to let loose and have fun.”
“I feel like I’m taking a sheep into a den of wolves.”
Blaze chuckled. “Blondie is no fucking sheep, man, and you know it.” Scott looked at him and wrinkled his brow. Yeah, Blaze had a point.
“We’ve discussed this. You need Presley and me for muscle, and you can’t leave Blondie here. She’ll have a shit fit.” Scott nodded as Blaze went on. “Once the pass is done, things will chill out and we’ll party. You know these MC’s. They’ll see that we’re legit guys and invite us to hang. That means strippers and more booze than even you can drink.”
Admittedly, he could use some strippers and booze after the week he’d had. He glanced up just as Keith pulled into the driveway in his father’s truck.
“Well, how was it?” Scott asked as Tori and Keith neared the porch.
“It was,” Tori let out a sigh and frowned. “Fantastic!” her face broke into a wide grin, effectively faking him out. “I had a rough start.”
He glanced to Keith who nodded behind her as Tori continued. “I regrouped after lunch, went back and I let it all out. Every bit of anger, sadness and frustration that I’ve been feeling for the past year. I unleashed.” Tori’s eyes watered with tears.
Scott picked her up and twirled. “Baby, I’m so damn proud of you.” He pressed his lips to hers. “I knew you still had it in you.”
“She poured it all out onto that canvas. She’s back. Our girl is back.” Keith beamed.
“I wouldn’t say I’m back. Today was full of emotion. I still have a long way to go, but I’m off to a good start.”
This was a huge hurdle for her to jump. He was so damn happy for her.
“Well, where is it, Blondie?” Blaze asked.
“Oh, it’s drying in his studio. Oils take weeks to cure.” Tori waved her hand. “He’s going to ship it to me.”
“Tell me you at least took a photo.” Scott glanced over to Keith. He was dying to see what she’d created.
“Of course.” Keith dug into his bag and pulled out his camera, pulling up the photos on the display. The three guys huddled over the screen as he quickly scrolled through all the images, finally stopping on her painting.
“Damn Blondie.” Blaze let out a whistle. “That’s…”
Scott’s breath caught in his chest. She’d drawn a face with thick, pouty lips on a smoky-grey background. The entire top half of the face, specifically the eyes, were scratched out with frantic, black lines bleeding across the canvas.
“It’s perfect.” Scott rubbed his jaw. The painting spoke volumes. It was dark, angry, twisted, and beautiful.
It was her.
“I got angry. It was fuel.” She let out a heavy breath. “Now, from what I understand, we have a party to go to? I really, really, need to let loose.”
“Then you better go change clothes, Blondie. You need to be a lot higher on the tramp-o-meter for where we’re headed.” Blaze grinned at Scott.
“Slut it up. Got it.” Tori smiled wickedly and headed into the house.
The night air whipped around Tori as she held tight to her man while he maneuvered the motorcycle through the traffic. She inhaled his musky scent mixed with the fumes of the exhaust as the choppers roared in unison. Chad had switched the shifter on one of his old bikes to the right side for Scott. It had been a quick fix and he was having a hard time getting the bike to shift properly without revving. But he was handling the chopper like a pro.
She felt so damn sexy sitting on the back of the bike with her body pressed against him. Distracting him wasn’t smart, but she couldn’t help it. She felt playful. She trailed her fingers across his chiseled mid-section, slipping her hand behind his belt buckle and letting it settle along his v-line.
In case he was missing the message, she pressed her tits into his back, just to toy with him. She laughed in smug triumph when he had to adjust himself on the bike several times. It was working.
Eventually, the bike came to a slow crawl as the group veered off onto what she knew had to be a gravel road in the country, based on the crunch underneath the tires and the absence of traffic. A minute later, she heard clanking metal and crunching gravel—a gate rolling open, she assumed.
The roar of the other four bikes stole her attention as they pulled up alongside Scott.
As Scott leaned back, the weight of the Glock in the back of his waistband pressed into her abdomen. She was thankful he had it and prayed he didn’t need to use it. He always carried, but she was smart enough to know her presence there had him more on guard. She knew damn well Scott wasn't thrilled with this plan; having her there with a bunch of sleazy bikers.
The bikes rolled through the fence, and the metal gate clanked shut. All the engines went to a silent kill.
“So, this is the chapter house?” Tori asked as she slid off the back of the bike. She’d only ever heard of stuff like this on TV shows, and here she was at a motorcycle gang’s clubhouse. She grinned kinda feeling like a badass.
“You bet that sweet ass it is.” Presley’s voice came from behind as she slapped Tori’s ass. “Listen, sweetie, you're gonna wanna play the part here,” she whispered and slid her hand up Tori’s back, unclasping her bra.
Tori nodded then slipped out of the bra and hung it from the handlebar. Tori had done her best to slut it up like Blaze instructed. She wore tight, jean shorts that showed ass cheek, and now her black tank top was showing a vast amount of cleavage and side boob. The breeze hit her, causing her nipples to come to full attention.
“When in Rome.” Tori shrugged and giggled back to Presley.
“Pres, you've been aching to do that all week, haven't you?” Scott chuckled.
“What? Me? I'm just admiring the artwork here.” Presley’s tone feigned innocence, making Tori smile. Suddenly, Tori jolted with a giggle as small hands grabbed her tit and gave it a squeeze.
Woah, hand on tit.
“Oops.” Presley laughed as she slung her arm around Tori. “I’m going to get you away from him and fuck you one day,” Presley teased—loud enough for Scott to hear.
A wicked grin crept across Tori’s face.
Play the part, huh?
Tori turned, wrapped her other arm around Presley, and planted her lips onto hers. Presley sucked in a shocked breath and Tori used that opportunity to let her tongue slip between those soft lips.
Damn girls could kiss so good. Presley was no exception. She wrapped her body around Presley's, lifting a leg up her side, grabbing her tit the way Presley had just done. Tori pulled away, satisfied. and reached out her hand.
She waited for Scott’s arm, but it never came. Blood rushed to her ears.
Shit, did I take it too far?
Nobody was moving, speaking or even breathing, it seemed, for several seconds. It was like they all disappeared in a poof and she was standing all alone.
Crickets.
Finally, the entire group hollered in unison.
“Oh shit!” Chad, she believed.
“Daaaayum,” that one came from Blaze.
“That’s my Vic. Slutty to the core,” Keith’s sassy voice.
“My lord, I believe Shey is speechless!” Scott shouted, laughing along with everyone.
“Are you blushing, Pres? Your cheeks are on fire!” Blaze laughed.
“I uh…well…I uh,” Presley stammered.
“You goddamn, filthy mess.” Scott laughed and slapped the cold metal poles of her cane in her hand and Tori flicked her wrist, opening it with a flair—tapping it into the gravel for good measure.
Scott flung his arm around his girl and pulled her in close, tousling her hair. He kissed her forehead just to let her know not only was he not pissed that she kissed Presley, but that he was now extremely turned on.
As he adjusted the growing erection in his pants, he noticed that their arrival had brought several bikers out of the clubhouse. Others came walking over from some picnic tables near a large grill and a bonfire.
“Chad Harris! I sure hope you’re bringing me my money, or I may have to take what I'm owed from you and your pretty ladies here. Part of me hopes you come up short, because, damn, these ladies are fine.” The crowd of bikers parted, exposing an overweight man with shaggy, black hair, his long beard touching the top of his pot belly. “Especially little miss Blind Annie Oakley here.”
Scott clenched his fist. He recognized that voice. Jett, the biker from Chad's shop that had threatened to rape Tori, sauntered over, leading the gang. Scott wanted to tear him apart limb by limb.
Instead, Scott reined in his temper, stiffened, and positioned himself between the bikers and Tori. They’d have to come through him to get to her, and he’d gleefully take on every last one of them if they dared try. Scott opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything, Blaze came up and slapped Scott on the back, chuckling.
“Easy, killer; you’re really gonna love this. Just watch,” Blaze whispered in his ear.
Blaze puffed out his chest and marched straight toward Jett. “Easy there, Fat Elvis! We didn't come here to talk to you! We want to talk to the man in charge,” Blaze shouted. “And you can keep that nasty cock of yours in your pants. I doubt this blind chick could miss your big fat ass!”
Jett didn’t look pleased. “What the fuck you say, smart-ass?” Jett came barreling towards Blaze, pulling a long knife. Blaze shot forward at lighting speed and gripped Jett’s wrist, spinning and then flipping Jett flat on his back in the gravel. Blaze pressed his boot heel into Jett’s chest and lifted the knife. It was now Blaze’s possession.
What the fuck, Blaze?
Scott kept his hand behind him, gripping the handle of the Glock, ready to draw. Why the hell did Blaze fucking instigate shit?
“At ease!” A booming shout echoed across the courtyard.
Everyone—bikers and guests—stopped and turned their head as the voice flooded Scott with a wave of nostalgia.
That voice. I know that voice.
Blaze turned, foot still on Jett’s chest and looked at Scott with the biggest shit-eating grin.
Could it be?
Scott narrowed his eyes, peering into the distance. Standing in the doorway of the brick clubhouse was a mountain of a man. Long, scraggly beard and hair to match—chest so big it looked like he had a barrel tucked under his shirt. The shadowy figure moved forward, the courtyard lights finally illuminating his wrinkled, rugged features—revealing his identity. Master Chief Carlson, just as Scott suspected. He was Scott and Blaze’s SEAL instructor and team leader through BUD/S and two tours before retiring.
No. Fucking. Way.
Both Scott and Blaze instinctively snapped to attention. “Yes, Chief!” they yelled simultaneously, giving respect where respect was due. Scott remembered Chief telling him right before he retired that he was gonna get a chopper and ride the backroads of USA. Apparently, that entailed starting up a motorcycle gang as well.
Chief passed through the courtyard in just a few strides. When he got to the group, he towered above Scott, looking like a biblical comparison of Goliath versus Samson. Chief had at least four inches on Scott, and Scott was tall.
Scott’s gaze swept upward to the man, his eyes wide as his superior scowled. Slowly, Chief’s jagged features morphed into a wide grin.
Chief bear-hugged Scott, lifting him off the ground. This man was the only person other than his father that ever truly made Scott feel miniscule. The man was an absolute beast. Chief plopped Scott back on the ground, forcing him to grip Chief’s arms to keep balance with his prosthetic.
Chief glowered, his mouth curling into a frown. “Yeah, I heard you got yourself a paper cut. I also heard you were being a little bitch about it for a while,” Chief bellowed, crossing his arms across his chest.
They both laughed in unison. Yeah; in their world below the knee amputations were not much to get worked up over.
Chief grunted and turned to Jett, bending over to lift him off the ground and dust him off. Next, he held his hand out to Blaze, who willingly relinquished his weapon. Chief, in turn, handed Jett his knife, turned, then socked Blaze in the chest so hard, it shot him back—knocking him flat on his ass. “You always had a problem with authority.”
Blaze laughed, struggling to breathe, and stood. “Sorry. I couldn’t help myself.”
“Don't mind this fucker. He’s always been a little shit,” Chief said to Jett. “But word of advice, never bring a knife to a 'Blaze fight'; you'll regret it.”
Chief turned back to Scott. “It's good to see you, son. Introduce me to your friends here. For a minute, I thought you had brought us strippers, but I believe this is your old lady?”
Tori frowned when he said that. She obviously didn’t like that term.
He chuckled inwardly.
“Chief this is my girl, Tori.” Scott put his arm around Tori and gave her a squeeze.
“The blind girl who pulled a gun on my boys?” Chief laughed in utter disbelief.
“Yes, she's a spitfire. Don't turn your back on her. And this is Presley, and our friend Keith.”
“Nice to meet you all.” They shook hands.
“Presley’s not a stripper, even though she looks like one. She works on my contracting team with me. You may want to warn your guys that she's also a Level Four Combatives instructor,” Scott explained.
“Don’t fuck with dark-haired Tinkerbell. Got it.” Chief nodded to Presley. “If Harris says you’re a teammate of his, that's good enough for me.” He leaned into her, lowering his voice to a whisper, “but if you ask me, you'd still make a killing stripping.” He grinned at her.
“Give me some whiskey. The night’s young and I could use a few extra bucks,” Presley shot back, nudging him playfully in the side.
Chief laughed like a roaring lion. “Damn, it’s good to see you men. I'm glad you guys could make it. I've had three prospects just patch in and we’re partying all night. Please stay as my guests.”
He walked back into the clubhouse. Scott turned to Blaze. “You fucking knew this was Chief’s MC?” Scott’s eyes bulged.
“I’m surprised you didn’t.” Blaze shrugged.
“Yeah, I’ve been a bit distracted lately.”
“Which is exactly why you need tonight, Harris.” Blaze patted him on the back.
Tori sat on the bench of the picnic table, listening to the commotion around her as she and Presley took alternating sips out of a bottle of Jack. The bonfire roared in the distance as the bikers were getting drunk, passing girls around, and shooting bottles. She’d finally stopped flinching after each gunshot either due to desensitization after several hours, or because the booze was calming her down.
Scott had also finally relaxed it seemed, more so than her. It was about damn time he let loose. Scott surprisingly seemed in his element. Maybe because this Chief dude was there? Tori had no clue, but was having too much fun to care.
While rowdy, the partying bikers hadn’t given her too much unwanted attention. Scott had only to explain once that Tori was his Old Lady and then nobody bothered her. She loathed that term, but understood its connotation here, so she’d stuffed down her inner feminist.
“Where did Keith go?” Tori asked, taking another swig.
“I think he went off somewhere with Chad,” Presley said as she grabbed the bottle from her hand.
Well, that’s interesting.
What could those two men have in common?
Rhinoceros like footsteps headed over and the bench shook next to Tori as someone sat down. Had to be the Chief. She knew it before he even spoke. Scott had told her he was practically a giant. But up till now, Tori had had a hard time imagining someone bigger than Scott.
Chief cleared his throat. “Jett tells me you’re paying off Chad's debt. Said you’re going to partner with him on the bike shop?”
Tori tilted her head in his direction. “Yeah. He's trying to get on his feet. Chad's talented and I think I can help him. He just needed some more time to get it going, and your boys aren't the patient type. Will that work out on your end?”
“It’ll work out just fine, little lady. Hell, if I’d have known it was Harris’ big brother I wouldn’t have sicced my men on him so quick. We take care of family and, after what Harris and I went through together overseas, he’s family. I’ll keep an eye on Chad and the shop from time to time. I like you. If everything Harris says about you is true, he’s met his match. Now, on to important business.” The Chief clapped his hands together. “I need to know two things: did you really pull a gun on Jett, and did you really learn to use the plasma cutter Chad's got?” He sounded bemused.
“Yes. To both.” Tori beamed with pride.
“I bet that sent Harris into a fit!” He laughed. “Do you realize how dangerous that is?” He mocked Scott’s gravelly tone.
Tori nearly spit out her newest swallow of Jack.
“Now, as for you, loosen up and enjoy the party.”
Tori smiled as Chief stood and patted her on the back. She was trying to do just that. New environments were always hard. The noises about her swirled in her head as the whiskey coursed through her veins.
“We’re just getting started here. I warn you though, these boys aren't your DC Garden Party types.” Chief kissed her on the cheek and strolled off.
Scott watched from afar as Tori danced at a safe distance from the bonfire, grinding against Keith. Tori had avoided this area like the plague all night, which satisfied him. The last thing he wanted was her drunk, blind, ass tumbling into the fire.
Keith dragged Tori by the hand, away from the crowd and plopped her sweaty ass on the bench next to him. Keith let out a breath and sunk into the seat across from them.
“So, we got something for you.” Tori leaned her chin on his shoulder and flashed a devilish smile.
“Do you now?” Scott kissed her whiskey-laden lips.
Keith dug into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a folded paper, clutching it to his chest. “I feel that this deserves some sort of speech, or maybe a little I–told-you-so dance. I just want to hold onto the moment where I prove Scott Harris wrong.”
“Oh, just show him the damn flyer.” Tori nodded to Keith.
Keith’s blue eyes gleamed with mischief as he slid the flyer across the tabletop. Scott curled his nose, raising a skeptical brow as he unfolded it, eyeing the flyer. There, in print was an advertisement for The Devil’s Ride: local gay, biker bar and strip club. It featured a very muscular, tatted up dude wearing jeans and a leather riding vest, no shirt of course.
“Bullshit; you made this.” Scott shook his head. Keith was an artsy person. He could have whipped this up in Photoshop in no time.
“You can’t stand to be wrong, can you?” Keith rested his chin against his knuckles.
“It’s true. They have a website, babe.” Tori pulled her phone out of her back pocket and he took it from her hands. “Decent web designer too; the screen reader can actually pick up nearly all of it. It’s legit.”
Scott scowled as he scrolled through the site. He highly doubted that Keith went to the trouble of making an entire website just to pull one over on him. Scott sighed and gave Tori back her phone.
“Say it,” Keith said, grinning ear to ear.
“Say what?” Scott folded his hands.
“Say you were wrong. I want to hear those words actually come out of your mouth.”
“You were right.” Scott nodded to him.
“And…”
“I stand corrected.”
Keith snorted. “You can’t bring yourself to say the words, can you? Come on, say it.” Keith reached over and shook Scott’s arm.
“Fine. I was wrong.” Scott covered his mouth and pretended to gag, as if vomiting and rolled his eyes. “Happy now?”
“Immensely.”
Scott was pretty sure Keith’s damn jaw was going to break in two from that stupid grin.
Right then, Blaze and Presley walked over and sat down at the bench. Blaze set down a brand-new bottle of Jack. “Got us a fresh bottle and Pres scrounged us up some shot glasses.”
Presley placed the shot glasses on the table.
“You people drink like you don’t want to live.” Keith grimaced, looking slightly nauseated.
Scott poured the whiskey into the shot glasses.
“Where’s Chad?” Tori asked.
“Dry humping some brunette stripper the last I saw.” Blaze chuckled. “I think they moved to a private area.”
“I’m shocked you haven’t done the same yet, Blaze.”
“The night is still young, Blondie.” Blaze clapped his hands together. “All right. Time to get fucked up. We’re all still far too sober.”
“Speak for yourself, mister,” Keith slurred.
“Oh, come on, Ginger, live a little. All you’ve been doing is sipping on beer all night,” Blaze prodded him.
“Keith’s a lightweight.” Tori giggled. “Whiskey fucks him up big time.”
“Do we really want to compare who’s more of a lightweight, Vic?” Keith snarled at her. “Do I need to tell them what happens when you drink champagne?”
Tori’s smile immediately faded and her face turned quite serious. “No, you do not.” She looked like she was about to murder Keith.
There had to be a crazy story there somewhere. Knowing Tori, she’d sworn Keith to secrecy.
“Ok. You all know the game. I’ll begin. Never have I ever bit another human like a rabid dog,” Blaze said.
The entire table erupted in laughter.
“So that’s how you want to play it?” Tori slid her fingers across the table and found the shot glass in front of her, downing it like a pro. “My turn. Never have I ever been robbed and had to call a blind girl for help.” Tori stuck her tongue out in his general direction.
“Touché.” Blaze lifted his glass and took his shot.
“Ok, Ginger, you’re next.” Blaze nudged Keith. “Go.”
“Never have I ever been arrested,” Keith said, and they all glanced around.
Tori reluctantly sighed and wiggled her empty shot glass in her fingertips. “Fill me up.”
Scott turned and looked at her, his jaw slack.
“How did I not know this? When were you arrested?” Keith shrieked and clutched his imaginary pearls.
Scott held her hand to steady it as he filled the shot glass for her.
Tori downed the shot and let out a breath. “When I was fourteen.” Tori slammed the glass on the table and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
All eyes were glued to her.
“For what?” Presley asked the question everyone was dying to know.
Tori reached out and grabbed the shot glass, twirling it between her fingertips. Her lips turned downward as her brow knitted. “It’s a rather drama filled story. I’ll give you the short version.”
Tori normally loved a captive audience for her fun and wild stories but Scott could tell she was waging an internal war with this one, leading him to believe this story was neither of those.
“I ran from the cops, put up a fight, and I was charged with resisting arrest.” She made a face. “Now, Scott’s turn.” Tori bumped her shoulder with his.
Scott furrowed his brow. Probably had something to do with her mother, and most likely was her swiping something. Chad had mentioned to Scott a few days ago how Tori caught him trying to steal from his folks and talked him out of it by sharing her own story about how she used to steal to feed Jane. The thought of Tori, or any kid, going through that made his blood boil.
Scott turned to the group. “Ok, I’ve got one.” Scott tried to bring the party back on course. “Never have I ever been to church and a gay bar on the same day.” Scott’s gaze challenged Presley and Keith.
“God dang you, Scott Harris!” Presley groaned and took a shot, slamming the glass on the table. “My daddy was a preacher and you know it.”
Keith took his shot as well, looking like he was going to upchuck. “Holy shit; that’s fucking horrible.”
“Wow! A preacher’s kid? I never would’ve guessed it!” Tori exclaimed, her jaw hanging open.
“You learn a lot you didn’t know in this game, apparently.” Keith huffed and shot a glare at Tori, which of course was totally lost on her.
Scott could tell that he was offended that Tori had kept part of her past from him. But he was being a bit of a bitch about it. Scott wasn’t even that upset. Keith should have known better than anyone how tight-lipped Tori was.
“It was quite the church scandal when I came out of the closet, shock waves went through that small Missouri town.” Presley laughed uncomfortably. “Ok.” Presley slyly licked her lips, her blue eyes flicking up to Scott. “Never have I ever had surgery.”
“Low blow, Presley,” Keith said as he poured the drinks. “You’re with a blind girl, a man with a peg, and a dude with bullet holes all over his body.”
“Sorry. Scott had that one coming. The rest of you were collateral damage.” Presley shrugged.
Scott, Tori, Blaze and Keith all took their shots.
Keith’s face turned blanch as he hiccupped, covered his mouth, and held his stomach.
“Dude, are you gonna blow?” Scott’s brow crinkled.
Keith nodded and scrambled up from the table, bent over about twenty feet away and spewed his guts out into the gravel. “I told you I don’t do whiskey!” He yelled behind him as round two came pouring out.
Scott was about to stand up to check on him until one biker headed over to him. He watched the man put his hand on Keith’s shoulder and walk him into the clubhouse. It was hard to miss the patches that said Devil’s Ride on the back of his jacket.
Well, damn.
Scott grinned and let this one be. It seemed the whiskey had worked in Keith’s favor. He chuckled to himself.
“Is he ok?” Tori asked.
“Yeah, he’s gonna be fine.” Scott rubbed her back and whispered in her ear what he’d just seen.
Tori grinned.
“Ok, never have I ever been in an orgy.” Blaze giggled like a schoolboy.
Silly Blaze assumed that none of them would drink to that, but Tori downed her shot like a champ. Everyone else went silent and she knew all eyes had to be on her.
“Daaayum, Blondie.” Blaze whistled.
“So what?” Tori shrugged her shoulders. “I was in college, was young and wild.” She waved her hand as if it wasn’t a big deal.
“Oh, hell no, you don't drop a bomb like that and expect us to let it go. We may have let the arrest story slide, but not this one. Do tell.” Blazed clapped his hands together in anticipation.
Tori felt for the table and set her shot glass down. “Fine,” she breathed. “We had this art club that met once a week to do live portraits. Nudes. I was always somewhat of an exhibitionist—”
“Was?” Scott huffed, chuckling.
“Anyway,” Tori continued, “it didn’t bother me that it was my turn to pose. So, I walked in the room proudly, dropped my robe and sat down on the stool. Things got monotonous after a while, of course we were all bored, wild, college kids and someone thought it would be a brilliant idea to drop acid while they painted. You know, because it would make our artwork so much brighter our stupid twenty-year-old brains thought.” Tori tucked her hair behind her ears.
“So I’m sitting there posing and everyone else is painting when the peak hits.” Tori felt herself getting a little flushed thinking about it and fanned herself.
“Ah, the peak,” Blaze said dreamily.
“I know, right? All that color.” Tori pressed her hand to her chest in remembrance of her wilder days. “Anyhow,” she waved her hand, “we all start tripping balls. Next thing I remember is someone said that it would be a great idea to paint me. Literally, like paint on me.” She motioned to her body. “Next thing I know, I’m covered in paint from head to toe. People are literally finger painting and pawing at my naked body. This went on for what seemed like forever. Time is hard to gauge at that point in the trip.”
Tori could only imagine Blaze on the edge of his seat, eating up every minute of this. “Anyhow, everyone at this point is naked and making out with each other. I’ll spare you the extreme details of the acid trip, just know the rest of the night was mainly this colorful, naked haze of bodies and the next thing I recall is waking up in a pile of naked people with paint dried to my skin.” She folded her hands innocently on the table. “Happy now?”
“You have no fucking idea!” Blaze exclaimed. “I’ll be thinking about that one next time I jerk off.”
“Well, I’m so thrilled that I could provide you with some spank bank material,” Tori said sarcastically.
“Dude, isn’t there some sort of rule that you can’t jerk off to your best friend’s girlfriend?” Presley snarled.
“Well, in section two, article fifty-two of the bro code handbook, she wasn’t his girlfriend at the time of the story, so it’s pretty much like fapping to a completely different girl.”
“You’re unbelievably twisted and fucked up,” Presley groaned.
“Was this before me or after me?” Scott asked curiously.
“Does it matter?” Tori shot back.
“Nah, I’m just trying to figure out if I should get tested for STD’s.” Scott snickered.
Tori could only laugh. She was having such a fun time listening to their banter. “Ok, I’ve got a good one for you military people. Never have I ever gone a week without showering.”
They all groaned and took their drinks.
She could feel Scott’s movement next to her as he filled them back up.
Presley went next. “Never have I ever been engaged or married.”
“Who drank?” Tori asked. “You better have not.” Tori turned to Scott.
“What? You don’t know everything about me; just like I don’t know everything about you.” Scott said, deadpan.
Tori’s brow knit and Scott burst out laughing. “I’m kidding, babe. Man, I think you’d be less pissed if I murdered someone.” He rubbed her leg, unable to stop laughing.
Tori frowned. She didn’t find that statement amusing.
“I drank,” Blaze’s voice broke through Scott’s laughter. “Was married once. Young, in love and so very naive and stupid.” He paused for a moment. “She left me for Jody while I was on deployment.”
“Fuckin Jody.” Scott sounded disgusted.
“Who’s Jody?” Tori asked.
“Jody is the shit-bag who sleeps with your girl while you’re deployed. Just a phrase we use in the military, Blondie.” Blaze laughed a little too loud.
Tori detected so much hurt in that sad chuckle.
Still waters run deep.
There was a lot more to Blaze than his crass exterior.
Blaze clapped his hands and cleared his throat. “Never have I ever been in a devil’s three way.”
A wicked grin passed across Tori’s face, and she imagined Scott had the same expression. She downed her shot.
“Dude!” Blaze said. “What the fuck is that about?”
“Nope,” Both Scott and Tori said at the same time. Neither one of them were breathing a word about that time.
“Was this Amsterdam?” Blaze asked.
“We don’t talk about Amsterdam,” Scott said adamantly.
“Come on, Blondie, tell me….” Blaze whined and shook her shoulder. “Was it two girls and two guys? It’s cool Harris.” Blaze cleared his throat. “It’s not gay if it’s a three-way,” he sang in his best Justin Timberlake impression.
Tori snorted. “Like he said, we don’t talk about Amsterdam.” Tori grinned slyly.
Scott’s phone rang.
“Saved by the bell. Shit, it’s Mom.” He laughed. “If I don’t take this she’ll send out a rescue party.”
She heard Scott get up from the table and walk away.
“I need to pee.” Tori giggled, stood, and swayed a bit. The whiskey had hit her full force and she laughed stupidly, realizing she had no clue where she was or where the bathroom was. “I can’t even stand up straight,” her words slurred across her tongue.
Tomorrow’s hangover should be a blast.
“Or speak.” Blaze laughed.
She swiped her hand across the table. “Shit.” She’d drunkenly placed her cane down somewhere when dancing with Keith. Blind, drunk, and in an unfamiliar place. Yeah; she was stupid.
“Whatchya looking for, Blondie?” Blaze asked as she knocked over a few glasses.
“I think I left my thing, I mean cane, in the place.” Tori braced herself on the table.
“I’ll go find it.” Presley patted her on the arm. “Hold tight, girl.”
Tori groaned and crossed her legs. “I really have to pee.”
“I’ve gotcha, Blondie.” Blaze took her by the hand and looped her arm to his. “We don’t want you pissing yourself.” She clung tightly to his strong arm as he took her inside. “Here you go.” Blaze placed her hand on the wooden door.
Tori pushed and the door swung inward. She turned back to Blaze. “I’ll be done in a jiffy.” She patted the door frame leaning her head against it lazily. “Wait for me please?”
“You honestly think I’d leave your drunk, blind ass here?” Blaze scoffed. “Blondie, I’ll always have your back, especially when you’re sloshed. Please don’t pass out on the crapper and make me come in for search and rescue.”
“Who me?” She placed her hand on her chest and giggled.
“Yes, you.” He kindly patted her cheek. “You’re fucked up, girl.”
She smiled, reached out and patted him on the chest. “You act all tough and deplorable, but inside you're a softie. I see things that others can’t. You’re a good guy, Blaze. I like you, and I’m glad we’re buddies.” Tori’s face quivered a bit and her eyes went teary.
She’d never had many friends, and the only family she could count on was Jane. Now she had this huge family in her corner. Drinking always brought out her true emotions—and they overwhelmed her.
“Oh lord. You’re like one of those girly, weepy drunks, aren’t you?” He groaned. “I can’t have you flirting with me.”
“Lord, that’s not it,” she groaned. “I’m serious. You’re family now. The brother I never got.” She smiled painfully and wiped away a tear. “I think he would’ve been a lot like you.”
“I like you, too, Blondie. I always wanted a sister and you’re damn good for my boy. Now hurry up and piss so we can get back out there.”
“You got it.” She pointed at him and shut the door.
Scott wrapped his arm around his girl as she sat down and nestled her head into his chest. She let out a huge yawn as he kissed her on the top of the head. She smelled like a mixture of her perfume and smoke from the bonfire. It was incredibly sexy.
Presley came stumbling up to Tori, pretty damn trashed herself. “Oh, no you don’t! You can’t fall asleep on me, girl.” Presley pulled Tori up by her arm, placing the bottle of Jack in her hand. “Come on, Slutty Spice. There's a wet t-shirt contest,” Presley slurred. “Let's win this shit.”
Tori groaned and stumbled along, holding onto Presley with one hand and the bottle of Jack with her other. Presley led her to the other side of the bonfire and over to where there were a few picnic tables pushed together.
He grinned as Tori took another swig of Jack and handed it off to Presley who in turn helped Tori climb up onto the table where several other chicks were already lined up. One of the older grey-haired men grabbed the hose and doused them all.
Scott erupted in laughter. Tori’s shocked expression as the cold water hit her full force in the face was everything. She may have looked like a wet kitten, but she was grinning like a Cheshire Cat. Then, he almost had a heart attack as she nearly toppled off the table. Even in her drunken state, Presley’s cat-like reflexes kept her from taking a nose dive. The girls fell into each other, laughing, as the unruly bikers cheered. His body heat rose, his heart warming, as his girl had the time of her life.
Shortly thereafter, Blaze plopped on the bench next to Scott and Chad, whom had returned a few moments earlier. He pulled a cigarette out of Chad’s pack, placing it between his lips. “Was hoping to score some weed, but all they have is fucking cocaine. Screw that shit.” The lighter clicked and Blaze took a puff.
Scott peered over at Chad, who lifted his hands as if to say not to worry. “I’m clean. One month, bro, and not fucking it up this time.” Scott sighed, hoping, praying that was the truth, but Scott suspected it was a damn, dirty lie.
“Want one?” Blaze offered the pack to Scott.
“Nah, Tori will kill me.” Scott waved his hand away.
“She looks busy to me. She won’t see it anyway,” Blaze said with a shrug. Scott and Chad both chuckled at his bad joke as he took the cigarette and exhaled a long puff of smoke.
“She’ll smell it though.” Tori wouldn’t go near his mouth after he smoked. As he sat there and watched her move her luscious hips to the roaring of Five Finger Death Punch coming out of the speakers, he wanted nothing more than to kiss those pouty lips. Just then, he watched as Tori ripped her tank top off and let her wet tits out. Presley immediately did the same.
More cheers came from the crowd of burly, dirty, fat bikers.
“I’ll be damned.” Chad’s green eyes bulged. “Holy shit.”
“Way to go, Blondie.” Blaze laughed his ass off.
Scott just grinned, watching the show. That was the Tori he knew. Rather than be mad that his girl was on display to the world, his heart swelled at how uninhibited and free she looked.
“You’re one damn lucky man, my brother,” Chad noted. “I’m shocked you aren’t yanking her ass down from there and pissing a circle around her.”
Scott crossed his arms over his broad chest. “She needs this. You two didn’t know her before—but this is a glimpse.” Her newfound uptightness was gone. She was dancing in those tight, jean shorts, boots, and nothing else. That was Tori. It didn’t matter that she was flashing her tits to the world—she was all his.
Chief came over and joined them.
“That girl of yours is something else, Harris,” Chief said. "Smart as hell. Hot as fuck too.”
“Yeah, it's rare to find someone who can hold her own in a cocktail dress at a DC fundraiser and dance topless on a picnic table in Texas while downing Jack.” Scott beamed with pride.
“Blondie is a good one. She's had Harris wrapped around her finger for years now,” Blaze said. “I don't blame him, though.”
“She has everyone she meets wrapped around her finger from what I can tell,” Chad nodded toward her. “You sure she’s marriage material, bro?”
Blaze nodded to Tori. “She’s wild, but loyal.”
Scott knew that Blaze was speaking from heartbreaking experience.
“Harris is just gonna have to let her off the leash every so often.”
Scott laughed. Blaze nailed it.
“Does Tori have siblings?” Blaze asked.
“She has a younger sister, Jane—but she’s married so don’t go getting any ideas.” Scott warned.
“No brother?” Blaze puffed on the cigarette.
Scott snapped his head. “No; why?”
“No reason.” Blaze blew out a ring of smoke.
Scott raised a skeptical brow.
Presley led Tori back, both stumbling and laughing, dropping her in his lap—her shirt long gone somewhere. She didn't seem to miss it—and neither did he.
“You ladies put on quite the show,” Chief complimented them.
“Did you see me dancing, babe?” Tori giggled. “We had a wet t-shirt contest. I'm not sure who won though.”
“Oh, if you ask me, you won hands down.” Scott smiled and palmed her tit.
“Oh, you won, Blondie!”
Scott appreciated that Blaze was trying to avoid her rack—to no avail. Scott couldn’t blame the dude.
Tori patted Blaze’s cheek. “You're so sweet, dear. Now, do me a little favor. Somewhere in this crowd of debauchery and reprobates, is an Asian stripper. Would you fetch her for me please? I believe poor Presley is smitten and horny as hell,” Tori slurred.
Blaze nodded and got up to track down the prey while Presley slumped down into his vacated spot.
Tori turned in Chief's direction “If that’s ok with you, Mr. Chief? This is your party after all. Your honor.”
Chief laughed. “Why of course. Please partake. Have fun and debase yourselves as much as possible. And, it's just Chief.”
Scott rested his cold glass of whiskey on Tori’s tits, causing her to jolt and squeal. Tori smirked and took it, downing it. “Thanks, Just Chief. I'm really starting to like you.”
She felt for Scott's hand and moved it to her tits. “Are you gonna fuck me or leave me wet all night, baby?” Tori’s hot breath whispered in his ear.
“Oh, the things I’m going to do to you,” he growled back. Scott scooped her up and slung her over his shoulder.
“I'm gonna get laid now!” Tori yelled to everyone as she wiggled in his grasp. They all laughed as Scott left them in the dust—carrying off his woman like he was a damn caveman.
He took her over to the parked choppers and plopped her down—bending her over the seat. With one swift yank, Scott pulled her shorts and panties to her shins.
“Can people see us?” Tori asked over her shoulder. She shimmied her shorts off the rest of the way, stepping out of them.
“Now you’re worried about that? After the show you just put on back there for those bikers?” Scott’s head tilted to the night sky as he roared in laughter. He wasn’t the exhibitionist that she was, but he was drunk as a skunk, horny as hell, and she’d unleashed the beast in him. He didn’t give two shits if the whole damn yard saw. “It’s probable we’ll be seen.”
“Good. Fuck me. Show them all who I belong to.”
God damn, if those words didn’t make him that much harder. She was a wild beast herself, his loyal lioness. He pulled his jeans down below his ass and slid his cock into her, slamming her thighs into the seat of the bike. He wasn't about to go gentle on her—it wasn’t their style. His eyes closed as the sweet release his cock needed washed over him.
“Harder,” Tori moaned.
He grabbed a fistful of her hair—jerking her head back. Still, she cried and begged for more. He discarded his jeans in the dirt and plopped his own naked ass onto the leather seat in reverse, leaning his back up against the handlebars. It took him a moment to adjust his prosthetic to get leverage.
“Come here, baby.” He pulled her by the hand, helping her straddle him. She reached behind him, gripping onto the handle bars as she rolled those luscious hips, working his cock with precision as her tongue swirled circles along his neck.
She may not be able to drive the bike—but she was driving him wild. She fucked him on that hog like she stole the damn thing. It took all his strength to keep the bike upright against the force of her hips. God damn—watching her was the hottest fucking thing he’d ever seen.
Her head tilted toward the night sky—the sweat on her body glistening in the moonlight. He gripped her ass and pushed ball deep into her pussy, rocking his hips underneath. He slapped her bottom, digging his fingertips into her flesh. She winced a bit, but it only fueled the fire in her to make her press that much harder. She fucked him raw and came screaming his name, holding nothing back.
Scott held out as long as he could. The greedy bastard in him didn’t want it to ever end. But, goddamn, she looked too fucking fine. He cupped the back of her neck, stroking her beautiful cheek.
He claimed her mouth as she nibbled on his lip. He quivered and shook as he came violently inside of her, marking his territory.
Mine, all mine—his inner bear growled.
They sat there catching their breath in each other’s arms while his ears picked up a slow clap. In the distance, others joined in on the round of applause, followed by shouts and whistles. His girl sat up, with him still inside her, twisted towards the praise, and gave a short bow.
He laughed and grabbed the nape of her neck, pressing his lips to her forehead. “I love you—you goddamn, filthy mess.”