Iron Disciples MC 1 Joy Ride (2 page)

“I need another beer,” I told
David.

“Oh… I’ll go get you
another.”

“No, no, I can get it. Just tell me
where they are.”

As David was explaining where the
kitchen was, Hard-on Terry took the empty bottle from my hand and
hurled it forcefully into the bonfire where it shattered against
the burning wood.

When I passed by that curtain again,
the lights were out. There were no more dancing shadows. I passed
through the hallways, squeezing in between people here and there,
past the muscle bound arm wrestlers again – it was a different pair
now, but the money was being thrown down all the same – and finally
made my way into the kitchen. There was trash all over the place.
Empty plastic cups, half full bottles of whiskey missing their
caps. The paper towel roll had been unraveled and the trash can was
overflowing with empty beer bottles. I opened the refrigerator and
fished out a bottle of beer and tried to twist the cap off, but it
wouldn’t budge. I grumbled a bit and ripped a sheet off of the
unraveled paper towel roll, trying to use it as a source of
friction, but the cap only caused it to shred beneath my
palm.

“You need a little help with
that?”

I looked up to see Johnny standing in
the doorway, nonchalantly leaning against the frame in the same
arrogant way I had seen him earlier. I just nodded and handed him
the bottle.

He palmed it and twisted the cap off
effortlessly, then handed the bottle back to me, wisps of
carbonated vapor licking off the rim and disappearing into the
air.

“Thanks,” I said, taking a big long
sip of the beer in the hopes that it would calm my
nerves.

“No problem. Hey… you better slow down
there. You don’t strike me as the drinking type.”

“I’ll be alright.”

“Okay,” he said, nodding coolly and
letting the silence set in. He seemed to be comfortable with it,
but I was already on edge and I didn’t know what to do with it, so
I took another long gulp of beer.

He just laughed. “Party
on.”

“Something like that.”

“So… what’s it like being with a
writer?”

“Why… have you been dying to find
out?”

He crossed his arms. “Nah, not like
that. Don’t get me wrong… who or what a guy wants to fuck is his
own business. But that ain’t me. What I meant was… he doesn’t seem
like much of a man. Is that what nice girls like you are into these
days?”

I shrugged. “He can be
sweet.”

Johnny laughed again. “Hey, now. He’s
been working awfully hard to build up his cred around here. Don’t
be going around saying things about how he surprises you at work
with chocolates and flowers, massages your feet after a long day,
and cries along with you during The Notebook.”

“Well, what’s wrong with any of those
things?”

He threw his hands up. “Hey, I don’t
judge.” And then he spun around and meandered back into the main
clutch of partiers, laughing the entire time.

I took another big sip of beer and
made my way back out to the bonfire to find David, past the now
darkened curtain, and out into the backyard. I scanned the area for
him, but it was nothing but a sea of leather. I spotted Bug Brain
sitting in a lawn chair by the fire, his arms wrapped around a
young blonde tart with tattoos on her neck and a ring in her nose
who was sitting in his lap. I walked up to them cautiously, careful
to make sure that I wasn’t interrupting anything.

“Have you seen Johnny?”

Bug Brain looked up and flashed his
yellow teeth. “Nah. He’s around here somewhere though, I’m
sure.”

“Alright, thanks.”

I went back inside the house, passing
through all the rooms as I had done before, edging around throngs
of leather clad partiers, squeezing myself through crowded hallways
and trying carefully not to accidentally elbow a drink out of
someone’s hand and cause a scene. I couldn’t find David anywhere,
though.

There was one part of the house, a
little less crowded, that I hadn’t been through yet. It was a short
hallway that led off to a side section of the house. It wasn’t lit
as well as the rest of the party, and I got the vibe that it was
maybe off limits or something, but it was the only place that I
hadn’t checked yet. As I crept down the hallway, I could hear
voices coming from a room at the end of the way. The door was
cracked open slightly and there was a dim light seeping out from
the opening.

I paused in front of the door at
first, wary about interrupting something, and then opted to simply
knock lightly on the door. When I did, I heard shuffling and then a
voice call out from inside the room.

“Whoah... yeah? Who is it?”

It was David’s voice. My breath caught
in my throat. I threw the door open all the way and David was
there, sitting on the edge of a bed and trying to work the zipper
of his pants. One of the trashy little biker hang-arounds was
pulling her shirt back over her head.

“Oh… you have got to be kidding me,” I
said.

“Wait!” He said, forgetting his zipper
and throwing his hands up. “It’s not what it looks
like!”

“Save it,” I said, and slammed the
door shut loudly, storming down the hallway, shoving through the
crowd of leather clad party goers and straight out onto the front
lawn, leaving the door swinging wide open, the smoke and music
spilling out into the night air with full force behind me. More
than a few heads were turned, but something tells me that at the
parties these people were used to, a sight like that wasn’t even
enough to warrant setting down their beer.

As I marched angrily down the
driveway, I heard a familiar voice call out to me.

“Hey, baby. Where you goin’ in such a
hurry?”

I stopped and turned to see Johnny
leaning up against his bike.

I gritted my jaw for a moment,
calculating, and realized that David still had the keys to the car.
I wasn’t really going anywhere. I certainly wasn’t going to walk
home in this neighborhood.

“I’m taking you up on your earlier
offer.”

He flicked a half-smoked cigarette
away and it exploded into ashy sparks against the concrete. “You
sure you wanna do that?”

“Yes.”

“Alright.” He tossed me the helmet
that was hanging off the rear of his motorcycle. “Hop
on.”

He swung his leg over the top of the
bike and gripped the handlebars and I climbed on behind
him.

“Put your arms here,” he said, taking
my hands and wrapping them around his waist. “You
ready?”

I nodded and he revved the engine up
loud and angry, its fiery growl bouncing between the houses in the
neighborhood, and then off we were down the driveway and onto the
street. Once we were out of the neighborhood and onto the open
road, he really kicked the machine up into another gear. The
snarling thunder of the engine whined and climbed and the wind
started whipping all around us, the loud whooshing mixing in with
the roaring engine sounds to create a booming tunnel of sound
around us that would have made it impossible for me to even hear my
own voice, should I have wanted to speak. I was still too angry to
want to say anything though. I just wanted to be taken as far away
from there as possible.

Johnny was hitting top speeds with his
bike now. I could see a curve coming up fast ahead of us, and he
showed no signs of slowing it down. It seemed as if he hit the turn
going just about full speed. The bike leaned perilously towards the
fast rushing concrete beneath us and my heart began to race. I
clamped down my grip around his waist and brought my body in
tighter against his, my breasts crushing softly against his back.
The wind was whipping the smell of his jacket up at me – a sweet
fresh leather scent. My arms were wrapped all the way around his
torso now, and where my hands met my fingers laced together. I
could feel steely hard abs beneath his clothing that flexed as he
steered the huge beast of a motorcycle, almost like he was subduing
some wild beast, taming it and controlling it through sheer
muscular force and iron forged willpower. I saw him then as the
master of some fire breathing steel steed and it was seriously
turning me on. I was beginning to get wet just thinking about him
there, inches away from me. That little weasel David was suddenly
miles away from my thoughts.

We roared through the thin night air
for a pretty long while, we must have rode for miles with me there
on the back of that snarling motorcycle clinging desperately onto
Johnny and falling seriously under the sexually charged sway of the
outlaw image that I was piecing together in my head. The sound of
the wind and the engine, the sharp of smell of gasoline and
leather, the feel of his thick muscles underneath my touch – all of
it was coming together into a rich tapestry that had me really
going.

Eventually, the ride came to an end.
Johnny pulled the bike off the road on a curve where the road edged
around a long sandy cliff overlooking a dark forest of trees
beneath. There was a metal railing lining the edge of the cliff, I
guess to keep any out of control vehicles from just careening
straight over the edge.

Johnny shut the engine off and climbed
off the bike, gently pulling the helmet off of my head. I had grown
accustomed to the roar of the wind and the engine, and the sudden
silence seemed very unusual to me.

“So… what did you think?”

“That was… exhilarating.”

“Yeah? Was that your first time on a
bike?”

“Yes.”

“I see.” He ran his thick ring-laden
fingers through my helmet-matted hair. “This look suits
you.”

“Is that so?”

“Oh yeah. Makes it look like you
aren’t trying so hard to be pretty now.”

“What’s that supposed to
mean?”

He never answered the question though.
Before I knew what was happening, he was kissing me, the sweet
salty scent of his skin and the rugged scent of his leather kutte
filling my nostrils, his rough hands caressing my shoulders. He
wasted no time slipping the jacket from my shoulders and running
his course hands up and down the now bare skin of my arms. I was
startled by his touch at first. All of this had happened so
quickly. Just thirty minutes earlier I had been wandering through
that party, and now I was here, with this intimidating yet
curiously alluring man that I barely knew. It must have been those
beers going to my head, but suddenly I tossed all cares aside and
threw myself into the situation. I ran my finger tips underneath
his leather kutte, feeling my way across the muscular chest,
tracing the rigid outlines of muscle underneath his
shirt.

His hands were all over me now,
cupping my breasts roughly then sliding their way down and yanking
my hips tightly against his own, and then finally grasping me
around the waist and lifting me up easily, setting my ass down on
the handle bars of the bike as he lifted my shirt and began kissing
my stomach. My hands found the smooth rubber grips of the handle
bars and held on tightly for balance. His kisses slowly made their
way down south of my belly button, my stomach rising and falling
quicker the farther down he went. By the time he was undoing the
button of my jeans I was soaked through and through and he must
have known it. By the time the zipper was down and he was peeling
the jeans off of me, I was quivering in anticipation. I wanted him
to touch me down there. I needed him to. We were parked there on
the side of a rarely used road in the middle of the night, and I
was sitting with my bare ass on the handle bars of a motorcycle and
my pants around my ankles. Any headlights appearing off in the
distance would have meant terrible embarrassment for me at that
point, but I didn’t even care.

He began to teasingly kiss my inner
thigh. Each time his lips pressed down, I began to tremble.
Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. I put both hands firmly on the
back of his hand and jerked him forward, face first into my gushing
loins. He seemed to have gotten the message, because he began to
eagerly lap at my pussy like a thirsty dog. It was enough to drive
a woman over the edge. I had to release my grip on the back of his
hand and grab the handle bars again, for fear that his tongue would
flick across my sensitive clitoris at just the right angle and send
me writhing and falling from the top of the motorcycle. When his
tongue did start hitting me just right, I was glad I was hanging
on, because the sensation had me twisting and bucking with
uncontrollable pleasure.

When he’d figured I’d had enough, he
came up for air, his lips and chin glistening in the moonlight with
my juices.

“I could get used to a girl like you,”
he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Why is that?” I asked in between
heavy breaths.

“I’m not used to eating pussy that
tastes like coconuts.”

“Comes with the territory when you’re
with a girl that actually showers regularly.”

“So it does.”

I was sitting there trying to catch my
breath when he leaned backwards on the bike, placing his hands on
either side of himself on the seat and sort of subtly pushing his
hips out. “So, uh… you always this rude, or what?”