Sam

I bumped into a woman, and her drink spilled down the front of her shirt.

“Hey! Watch it, Bitch!” she yelled out, but I was already five steps away. Once out the bay doors, I felt the steady raindrops land on my face.

I didn’t know where to go or what to do next. But I knew not to go back in there. I had to keep a low profile. Not be noticed. Not be seen. But the perverted biker rubbed up against me and whispered in my ear where on my body he wanted to rub his dick on. And the moment the tall biker intervened was my opportunity to make a break for it.

The lot was full of at least 100 motorcycles parked under the street lights, and I saw a dark gravel path that led to the main road toward the ocean’s coastal highway. I wrapped my arms around myself and started to walk in that direction, as the rain fell, soaking through my hair and clothes.

“You’re not gonna get away that fast.”

Big hands captured my upper arms and swung me back around. I looked up, and up at the tall biker who called just me his property.

He released me and tilted his head, looking down at me, “You scampered off like a scared little bunny rabbit. You didn’t look like you were enjoying that dipshit rubbing his whiskey dick on you.” His voice was low and deep.

My mouth suddenly went dry, and I didn’t know what to say to the hulk size biker. It was dark, but I could make out that his dark hair was a bit long, past the collar of his cut, and a bit messy. His long dark beard covered a chiseled square jaw. I could also make out tattoos that covered both huge muscled arms with intricate designs.

I mustered up the use of my voice, “I had to get out of there. I. I… can’t go back in there.”

I hoped he didn’t take my stuttering as an opening to try and finish what the other biker tried to start with me.

“Well, you’re not gonna walk alone. Not in the dark, and not in this rain.”

“But I can’t go back in there! I can’t –“

“Ok. You don’t gotta do anything you don’t wanna… I see you got your own lid there on your pack. You can get on my bike, and I’ll take you where you wanna go.”

I stared at him for a moment. So far, he didn’t try anything on me when he could have or say anything to set me off to run from him. Even though he was so much bigger than me, he seemed safe. So, I followed two paces behind him, toward the parking lot full of bikes. He stopped, but I didn’t. My face smashed into his broad back. He turned around when I stepped back, and I heard a low chuckle.

“I don’t just get any chick on my bike without even knowing her name… They call me Ratchet.”

“I’m Sam… And thank you. For getting that biker off me.”

The side of his mouth lifted into a smirk. He was probably amused at what he was looking at - a soaking wet mess.

“Not a problem. Now let’s ride and get you somewhere dry.”

When I got on his bike, I kept my hands to myself. I leaned back, away from Ratchet.

“Hold on, Little Rabbit. Don’t want you scampering off again.”

He was thick as a tree and smelled of whiskey, cigarettes, leather, and rain. I placed my hands on the sides of his waist. He kicked the stand up with his booted heel, twisted on the throttle in first gear and rode us out of the parking lot onto the main road.

Ratchet road me twenty blocks up the coastal highway. I didn’t have anywhere to stay or go for that matter. He must have figured that out when he pulled us up to a stoplight.

He turned his head toward me, “I have a room three blocks up. You wanna go there and dry off? And don’t worry. I won’t rub up on you, Little Rabbit.”

We were both soaking wet. “Ok,” I squeaked out against his ear.

He had a room at one of the many beach motels along the coastal highway. A queen-size bed with a light blue blanket. The dresser and night tables looked about thirty years old, and the sandy colored walls had some beach photos with sea shells and sand.

Ratchet handed me a dry towel so that I could dry off. I started wiping my face and hair and looked down at myself. My nipples were hard as rocks, and they pressed up against my light blue tank top. I slid the towel down to cover myself. I looked up at him, and he suddenly looked away. He took his leather cut off and hung it on the back of a wooden chair. I recognized his club patch – The Chaos Kings MC – a grinning skull, wearing a Viking helmet on top of two crossed battle axes.

“Do you know any Chaos?” he asked me as I looked at his colors.

“No… but I know of your club…”

Reaching into the side pocket, he pulled out his cigarettes and a flask. He twisted the top open and took a sip of whatever was in it. He offered it to me, “Take a sip. It’ll warm you up some.”

I took a small sip and coughed a few times from the burning taste. But it felt warm sliding down my throat, and my chest flushed from cold to warm. I handed the flask back to him, setting it on the nightstand.

He took a few steps toward me. I leaned my head back to look up at him. He was at least 6’3”. His messy dark hair was soaked and hung down over his brow. He was so close I could see that his eyes were a pale shade of brown with little tiny specs of amber in the irises. My stomach did a summersault, and I felt my neck and cheeks flush again with warmth, but not from the whiskey.

He stared down at my mouth as I opened it, not knowing what to say with him so close to me again. This was much different than sitting behind him on his bike. He reached up and lightly grazed his calloused thumb across my lower lip.

“I want to taste those lips of yours, Little Rabbit…”

He leaned down and covered my lips with his. His tongue slid into my mouth slowly at first. He tasted so good that my tongue couldn’t stop from swirling around his. I suddenly moaned into his mouth, and his huge hands grasped my hips. He squeezed just a little, taking another step closer to me.

I felt him hard against my fluttering stomach. He released me from the slow kiss. “I’m not going to stop, Sam. Unless you want me to,” he grumbled low, his eyes staring at me so intently with that hunger that I had seen in the eyes of other men. Other men who hurt me. Violated me… I stepped back away from him in the next second.

My fight or flight mode suddenly kicked in. “Please stop!” I pleaded, “I mean… sorry… just please don’t hurt me… I’ll do whatever you want.”

He released my hips and stepped back, “Shhhh… It’s ok, Little Rabbit. I’m not gonna hurt you...”

There were a few seconds of silence. He turned and walked over to his duffle bag. Pulling out a dry t-shirt, he handed it to me.

“I’m gonna go take a piss. You can get out of those wet clothes and wear that t-shirt. It’ll be big on you, but its dry.”