CULVER: A Motorcycle Club Romance Novel (12 page)

He kneeled before me, his eyes hungry, and pressed my
thighs open roughly, the callouses on his hands tickling my flesh. His hand
flew to my slit, feeling my wetness, my desire; I leaned up on my elbows,
watched him. He leaned forward, crawling over my prone body, his eyes meeting
mine as he poised his cock above my slit once more.

I could feel the silky head against my tender flesh,
felt my muscles clenching in anticipation, my thighs quivering. Reaching down,
he grabbed me around the waist and, in a single motion, flipped me over.
Surprised, I raised myself up slightly, but he pressed down on my lower back,
shoving my body into the sand.

I could feel his cock pressed against my slit again,
from a different angle this time. He nudged my legs apart with his knees, and I
automatically thrust my ass upwards, exposing my still-dripping slit to him.
The sand felt gritty but soft and cool under my naked body; I could feel Boon
breathing above me, closed my eyes, felt the ache inside, felt desire biting at
every nerve.

He began to slip into me, slowly. Never having been
fucked from behind, I moaned in amazement at the way it seemed to introduce me
to brand new sensations, new places inside me, new nerves that lit up with fire
as his cock moved deeper and deeper into me. His cock seemed to grow in size as
he pressed downwards, throbbing and filling me completely.

I struggled against the weight of his body on mine,
found myself instead thrusting against him, craving more. My hips moved on
their own, gyrating up and down on the sand, feeling the pulse of his dick, the
pulse of my own pleasure, a wind whipping up in my mind, tearing any thoughts I
might have had to pieces. There was only bliss, only desire, only tension.
There was only his cock, splitting my pussy, rubbing against the tender walls,
driving downward, downward, to a deep, warm center where it seemed all my
pleasure was balled up, just waiting to be released.

“Oh, god, Boon,” I cried into the night as his hips
met my ass, his cock plunged entirely into my hot pussy. My muscles contracted
around him, embracing him, squeezing it as he began to thrust into me, slowly
at first and then gaining speed. Each time his dick pushed against that spot, I
felt explosions in my mind, felt my skin tingling, each grain of sand a dot of
pleasure.

My hips ground backward, my ass pressing towards him,
my body knowing. Faster, harder, we ground against each other, our skin audibly
smacking against each other, his cock pounding down into me even as I tried to
thrust upward. He was powerful, stronger than me, and I felt my body sink
deeper and deeper into the sound with each thrust. I felt the pressure building
in my pussy, that ball of pleasure getting tighter, smaller, hotter, more
electric, my muscles tensing and buzzing, his cock driving into me
relentlessly, no respite from the blinding pleasure, the rising wave, the
pressure, more and more and more until

“Fuck, Boon, I’m commminngggg,” I cried out as my body
shook in the agony of ecstasy, my muscles releasing in a single, rolling wave
of relief, my pussy milking his cock as he held it deep inside me, that ball of
pleasure finally exploding, expanding, sending bubbles of delight upwards
through my entire body. My hips rocked back and forth, my pussy grinding into
the sand, my hands clenched in desperate fists. I panted, shaking, underneath
him, my muscles weak and lazy.

As I felt the last waves of my climax begin to fade,
Boon leaned down and grabbed my arms, pulling me up, backwards, onto my knees.
My head lolled on my shoulders, my neck not even strong enough to support it,
my body totally drained from the orgasm.

I leaned back against his chest; he was kneeling
behind me, his cock still inside me but tipped upwards. His hands came to my
belly, moved upward, brushing sand away as they reached my breasts. He fondled
them gently, drawing a moan from me. I couldn’t believe that I’d ever recover,
but I actually felt myself becoming more alert, more aware, more….aroused.

He shifted slightly behind me, then pushed me forward
once more, so that I was on my hands and knees in front of him. He pushed into
me again, impossibly finding still more places inside me that hadn’t yet been
explored, that had never felt his cock. He grunted, began to slide into me
quickly, his hands holding tightly to my hips, bracing himself against me.

I began to move with him, strength coming back to me
as my pussy began to respond. I could feel my own juices running down my legs,
tickling my thighs, mixing with the sand. Boon pushed and pulled me against
him, fucking me faster and faster with each stroke. My pussy rippled with pleasure
around him; he was pushing as deep as he could go each thrust, the sound of our
bodies slamming together almost deafening in the night.

His grip increased, his body strained; my face
flushed, my mouth opened in a desperate whimper. My defenses were totaled, and
I was laid bare to him entirely, as he erupted inside me, his cock driving
harder than ever through my slit and deep inside me, hot, gushing liquid
spurting into me and pushing me over the edge once again.

His cum massaged my pussy as I milked him, my slit
clenching around his cock. I felt my head fill with tingling, drifting,
feathers, each one lighting up a single nerve in my body with ecstasy. Boon
released stream after stream of cream inside me, each time nudging me further
into my climactic delirium.

When he fell atop me, panting, driving me into the
sand again, I could only moan and clench my fingers around handfuls of sand. We
lay there like that for three years, days and nights passing by unseen as we
tried to recover. Finally, the sound of cicadas became real again, and Boon
rolled off me, landing on his back.

“Are there stars?” I asked, half-drunk with bliss,
speaking into the sand, not even sure what I was saying. I felt almost like I
did after a long, hard run or cheerleading practice. Only a million times
better.

“Yeah, baby, there are stars,” Boon replied, his voice
smooth and warm like melted chocolate. I moaned and stretched, rolling over,
loathe to move at all but wanting to be closer to Boon. I looked up; there were
stars everywhere. The sky was positively fluorescent with stars. The cicadas
sang. The lake whispered to us. He reached out and wrapped an arm around me.

~
21
~

We almost slept there that night. We didn’t fall
straight to sleep after, which was a blessing. Instead, Boon told me a story.
It’s a silly story, I promise, something that made me giggle. Granted, I likely
found it funnier than you will, since I was lying in his arms when he told it,
and just about anything he could have said at that point would have seemed
amazing.
 

It was a biker story. Boon said those were pretty much
the only sorts of stories he knew. He also only
said
it was a story: I think it was a joke. He swore it really did
happen to someone he knew, but I think he was just saying that to make it seem
real.

“One of the older guys in our crew, Castor, he was
riding solo from Florida back to California. There’s a lotta biker lingo, road
talk, stuff that when you say it, people look at you like you’re crazy unless
they’re in the know, too. So Castor stops off at some diner in Alabama, he says
it’s four, five AM. Trying to get some chow.

Real cranky waitress. She must have just been about to
get off or something, but anyway he says she had that bit- uh, a real sour look
on her. So he’s smiling, Castor’s a nice guy, you’d like him, a real
sweetheart, asks for two headlights and two wheels. You know what that means?”

I shook my head no, snuggling close and letting the
rise and fall of his chest lull me along with his voice, the cadence of his
words like a melody in my post-coital intoxication.

“Well, she didn’t either, and she starts getting all
flustered. You know, she’s tired, some dirty biker comes in asking for
nonsense. So she says ‘we don’t got that’, and waits for him to order something
else. But, see, Castor knows the cook there, he’s been there before. So he
smiles and says, ‘ask the cook, he’ll know what I mean’. But the waitress isn’t
having that, she’s just pissed about everything. No one likes being shown up at
their own job, right?

So she calls back to the cook, ‘some wacko here says
he wants two headlights and two wheels, says you’ll know what the hell that
means’. And the cook, of course, pops his head out, sees Castor and gives him a
nod. ‘Ayup, two sunny-side up eggs, two pancakes, comin’ right up,’ the cook
says. And this really gets the waitress going. I mean, you ever dealt with a
diner waitress at that time of the day? They’re not all sugar and gumdrops, for
sure.

So of course she’s madder than hell ‘cause she’s been
made to look silly. So the waitress goes and disappears back into the kitchen.
While the cook’s preparing Castor’s food, she comes out and slams down a big
bowl of chili right in front of Castor. Just full of beans. And she says,
‘here’s you’re chili, big boy’. And of course, Castor didn’t order any chili,
so he says so, asks what she wants him to do with a bowl of chili he didn’t
order. And she goes, ‘two headlights and two wheels won’t get you very far
without any gas!’”

See? It was a stupid story. It wasn’t even very funny.
But laying there, in his arms, I thought it was the most charming thing anyone
had ever said to me. It was my first time indulging in ‘pillow talk’. I was
smitten. If you’d asked me, right then, if I loved him, I’d have said yes as
loud as my voice allowed me. After all, like I said, oxytocin is a powerful
drug.

We lay there on the sandy beach for three hours,
nodding in and out of conversation, never quite falling into sleep. He told me
more about his gang, which he referred to as his family. The way he spoke about
them, I could feel how passionately he truly cared for each man in the crew. He
didn’t get into the gritty details, for which I was thankful. Being reminded of
his shady past, his dangerous life, would only have ruined the moment, reminded
us both of the reality of the situation.

I, in turn, told him about my life in Missoula. My
summer job at an ice-cream parlor. Stories about Alicia and Becky and our other
friends. The time we went cliff jumping, and I felt like I was flying. The time
Alicia got drunk, got pulled over on her bicycle, and wound up getting pancakes
with the cop. A time when Becky and I were little children at church and dared
each other to drink holy water. Random, silly stories that I would never have
told if I hadn’t felt so comfortable, so open, so free to be myself.

The warm air held us like a cradle. Finally, I
realized, it was getting late, and I needed to get home. My parent’s hadn’t
been happy about me going out in the first place, and if I strolled through the
doors the next morning they’d be livid. Pulling myself up, I brushed sand from
my skin.

“I have to go,” I said, leaning over Boon’s body as he
lay still. His eyes opened, peered into mine.

“No, you don’t,” he said, reaching up and pulling me
down, on top of him. He wrapped his strong arms around me, my face pressed
against his chest, the taste of his sweat on my lips. I giggled as he squeezed
me.

“No, no, I do, really, I have to,” I said, my voice
muffled. Gradually, he relented, releasing me. I leaned back, drawing myself
onto my knees. Looking down at him, I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to stay
forever in his embrace.

“What now?” I asked, blurting out the question that
had been lingering between us since we’d collapsed on the ground together. Boon
propped himself up on his elbows, looking out onto the still lake.

“Well, I guess I’m screwed,” he finally said. My brow
furrowed.

“How so?” I asked.

“Well, I can’t stay, your daddy made that clear. But I
can’t leave, either. Not after…that,” he said, actually sounding sheepish. I
felt myself blushing.

“Was it that good…for you?” I wondered aloud, not
really believing that a guy like Boon, who could pretty much have his pick of
girls, would really be blown away by a virgin like me. His teeth gleamed in the
moonlight as he smiled up at me.

“Darling, that was….resplendent. You’re dangerous. You
should come with a warning,” he said, and I felt a swarm of butterflies
released in my stomach.

“So…so what do we do?” The question hung in the air.
Boon leaned up more, coming to a sitting position. He took my hands in his,
looked into my eyes.

“Come away with me. Come to California – or no, let’s
go to Maine. Let’s go east, as far east as we can get, far away from my dad and
your dad and everything. We can be together, and start new lives…” his voice
trailed off as he realized what he was saying, and who he was saying it to. I
shook my head, tears tickling my eyes.

“I can’t do that, Boon. I mean, I really…I really like
you. A lot. Like, a
lot.
But I can’t
just leave. I have…I have a life here. A good life. I have my friends, and my
parents, and I’m going to be starting school…I’m not like you. I can’t just
pick up and go somewhere. And I don’t
want
to! I want to stay here. I love my life. It could only…well, the only way I
could like it more is if you were in it.”

“I know,” he said, head hanging. “I know. I could
never really ask you to do that. God, Samantha, you’re so
young,
and so
good.
I
can’t…I can’t try to change that. I’m no good. I’m trouble. You deserve
everything life wants to give you. And I can only give you…bad news.”

I squeezed his hands.

“Stay. You’re not trouble. Maybe your father is, maybe
your friends are, but you’re not. You’re good; I can see it. Stay. I’ll talk to
my dad. He can help you! He’s the sheriff, he could get you a job, help you get
set up with a new life, one where you can be
you,
the good you. It can happen, I promise. Just let me talk to
him…”

Boon was shaking his head, resigned.

“You’re his little girl, Samantha. You don’t know what
fathers will do to protect their daughters. He’s not going to help me. He’s
just going to chase me out of town.”

“Let me try. Please, just, stay at the motel, a few
more nights. Let me try. That’s the least we can do,” I said, trying to catch
his eye. He looked at me. I sensed his hesitation.

“Okay,” he finally said, his voice rough and low, no
louder than a whisper. “A few days. But I wouldn’t get your hopes up, little
sister. I certainly don’t have very high hopes myself.”

I could have fucked him again right there and then for
even giving me the chance to talk to my dad. He was right to be pessimistic,
but he was also wrong: my dad
could
be
understanding, could change his mind. And even if my father couldn’t, my mother
could certainly help change his mind for him.

I leaned forward, throwing my arms around Boon’s
shoulders, pushing him back onto the sand, pressing my lips against his. We
giggled through the kiss; his hands came to my waist, held me in place.
Finally, he pulled back.

“If you’re gonna go, you better go now, or I won’t be
able to let you leave at all,” he said, releasing my waist. I stood up,
slightly wobbly, and let out a short cry when I felt Boon’s hand suddenly smack
against my ass. I blushed, laughing, and hopped over his body to my white
dress, which had been laying in the sand. I watched him watch me get dressed,
enjoying the feel of his eyes on my moonlit body.

“I’ll call you,” I said as I began to walk towards the
path that led back to the house.

“Samantha,” he called after me. I stopped and turned
to him. “Just, be careful. Don’t…don’t get your hopes up.”

Too late for
that,
I
thought to myself as I slipped into the woods. My hopes were already living up
there in that star-filled night. If they were going to fall, it was going to be
one hell of a crash.