Dead Men Motorcycle Club Read online

  Discovering the duplicity didn't mean putting an end to the deal, though. It meant circling the wagons and resisting. Cash knew that no matter what Donnovan's end game was, he'd never make a move against the club before Taylor was gone. That gave him time to find a better solution. Just what form that solution would take had formed the bulk of the discussions between the officers of the Dead Men of late, and quite a few late night chats between Cash and I.

  "Do we have the night to ourselves?" I asked him. I might have been off work for the evening, but there was no motorcycle gang union keeping guarding against unpaid overtime for Cash. Too often I'd been stuck eating alone or sharing a table with Karen while the men in our lives were off causing trouble in the town.

  "I'm all yours," Cash said with a smile. I couldn't help but wear my own smile from ear to ear. Those were just the words I was hoping to hear. I didn't have a clue as to what we'd be doing, but I was just glad to have the time to do it. I leapt at him suddenly and threw my arms around his neck as though we'd been separated for years. He didn't hesitate to return my embrace, despite the grease stains that were all over my pants. What's a little engine grease to a biker, anyway?

  I released him from my grasp and smiled. "So where are you taking me?" I asked. That was the kind of line I always wanted to use and I couldn't resist the opportunity to try it on for size. He chuckled, and I got what I wanted.

  "Well," he said, "I was thinking we'd go a bit upscale."

  I cocked an eyebrow at him. "Upscale" in San Viero usually meant using a napkin while you ate at one of the same four restaurants everybody ate at.

  "You've got a plan, you sneaky bastard," I told him, poking him in the chest with my index finger accusingly.

  He simply grinned at me. "Tell you what, you go home and change into something nice and I'll pick you up. I want to wrap a couple of things up here and talk to Karen before she heads out."

  "Sure thing, boss," I told him with a smile. I leaned in for a quick kiss but he turned it into something even better. He pushed his large, powerful hands around my back and pulled me in close. I could feel the sharp graze of his stubble against my face as we kissed. I might have been tempted by the soft, comfortable life of leisure, but I belonged with Cash. There wasn't a tropical island in the world that could make me feel as good as the tender kisses of a man who truly loved me.

  We slowly parted from our kiss and I gave him one last squeeze on the arm before heading off in the direction of my bike. He stood watching me go and I made sure to throw a little extra something into the way I swung my hips. I heard him chuckle and I knew that he was grinning in that way that always got me.

  I grabbed my helmet off the wall and walked my bike out into the lot through the open garage bay door. I'd been working on the bike for months, but I hadn't had much time recently to give it any attention. It was still purring like a kitten though. When I fix an engine it tends to stay fixed. That's doubly true if I'm working on my own stuff. You'll never find a hairdresser with her roots showing and the same is true for mechanics.

  I mounted the bike and strapped the helmet under my chin. In seconds I was pulling out of the lot of Peasant Motors, heading for the small apartment that Cash and I shared on the other side of town. It would have been little problem to find something closer to work, but I was glad for the daily ride through town. Every minute I had on that bike was pure joy. My father had warned me against the dangers of motorcycles since long before I could even drive a car, but he'd never told me about the rush.

  When the road is flying beneath you and the bike is humming just right, it's easy to get lost in the sensation. It's half like dreaming and half like being more awake than you've ever been in your life. It's almost like the bike's engine is converting fuel into energy for both the bike and yourself. When I would kick it just a little faster, I could feel my heart matching the pace. Every corner was as thrilling as a great twist in a story you love to read. Riding a bike is more than just a way to get from point A to point B. It's a mental and emotional thrill as much as it is a physical one. Maybe my dad just never felt the rush the same way I did. Sometimes I wondered if even the Dead Men felt that way. Even amongst bikers, sometimes a bike is just a machine. For me, it was a true love that had only one challenger - the man who'd taught me to ride in the first place.

  I arrived home and parked my bike on the street, right where I always kept it. That's another great thing about small towns - parking is like elementary school; everyone's got assigned seating. I hopped off the bike and made my way inside, hanging my helmet on the rack we kept by the door for exactly that purpose. It was too large and could accommodate more helmets than we owned, but it was a nice touch for a home like ours.

  I left a trail of clothes leading from the front door to the bathroom. If was going to get dressed up for some special date, I certainly wasn't going to do it looking like I'd just spent nine hours in a garage. I started the shower and stood back for a moment to look myself over in the mirror. You'd think that days on end of hard work in the garage would have made me look tired, but I felt like the opposite had happened. Work, riding and Cash were the three things I'd found in life that could make me truly feel alive. Lately I'd been surrounded by my three passions 24 hours a day. The result as a vitality that was positively bursting from me. Of course, Karen would have told me that, at the age of 23, it was hard not to look good. She never seemed to miss a chance to remind me that I was young and that someday I wouldn't be. I took it as the good-natured ribbing I knew it was. I'd seen the old pictures of Karen from when she was my age, and she could put me to shame in any disco or drive-in or whatever the young people back then were getting up to.

  I stepped into the steaming waters of the shower and let out an audible sigh of pleasure as the hot rush poured over my skin. Working on engines has the downside of tensing muscles you didn't even know you owned. It takes strength and attention to detail at the same time. I'd worked hard to become a great mechanic, but the sore nights that came with it were still hard to avoid. I pushed my head under the falling water and closed my eyes, letting it soak into my hair and stream down my face. The warmth was instantly relaxing. In that moment, riding, working and Cash were all far from my mind. Those might be the three things keeping me alive, but that relaxing feeling was the best thing to stay alive for.

  I started with my hair, making sure to clean every inch as though I was preparing myself for a thorough inspection. When you work in a garage, it's easy to just let yourself go. I'm meticulous when it comes to cleaning my tools, and today that included my hair and body. People who say there aren't enough hours in the day to keep everything looking good are kidding themselves. Distractions are a fact of life but that doesn't mean you give up and let yourself fall to pieces.

  When my hair was clean and smelling like some sort of exotic wildflower, I turned my attention elsewhere. It had been a long day and a long week before it. With so much happening, Cash and I had barely had a chance to cuddle, let alone express the urges that had brought us together in the first place. The thought of a night that was finally free of obligations and a fancy dinner could only mean one thing - tonight we'd finally have a chance to give each other the attention we both deserved and craved.

  I thought long and hard about my man and the things I wanted to do to him. The pounding spray of warm water across my body pushed me further in that direction as well. I closed my eyes and imagined that the drops of water falling across my breasts were a thousand tiny kisses. I knew that if he had a chance, Cash would spend all the hours of the day exploring my body and telling me how beautiful every part of my body was. He'd never been shy about that sort of thing. His directness when it came to physical stuff was one of the things I liked about him the most. I never had to worry about whether or not he still found my beautiful and enticing. He was just the kind of man who told you - and showed you - just what he was thinking.

  My fingers slipped lightly across my breasts and I dreamed of the way he would
touch me. Cash could turn his power on and off like a faucet. One minute his grip around my waist was so tight that I could barely believe the pressure. The next he was laying his hands across my skin so lightly and so tenderly that I hardly knew he was there at all. I'd been with hard men before, but never one who could match that strength with as much delicacy as Cash. When I wanted him to slow down, he did. When I wanted him to take me with all the ferocity of a primal beast, he did that as well. For as long as we'd been together, Cash had never failed to give me just the attention I wanted. Even if life pulled us away from one another for a short time, I knew we'd always find a way back.

  I slipped my fingers gently between my legs and let the spray of the shower cascade down my body. The water ran along my wrist and dripped against my thighs. There would be plenty of gentleness that night. A fancy meal was sure to show me his softer side. I needed something else though. I needed to feel the passion that coursed through his body. Cash's blood always ran hot and I wanted him to show me the depths of his desire for me. I imagined just what he'd do if he were there in the shower with me. I thought of him wrapping his hands around my body from behind and pulling me towards him. I pressed hard against the slippery wetness between my thighs as I imagined the forceful way I wanted him to penetrate me. Cash was built just the way a man ought to be. His muscles were tightly coiled but not bulging. His eyes were sharp and the color of them seemed to swallow me up like a pool of deep ocean water. When it came to the bedroom - or the shower - he never disappointed. Our bodies fit together just right and when we made love, we worked like a finely tuned machine. His strength and my softness combined in ways that were still surprising and delightful, even after months together.

  I pressed the palm of my free hand against the wall of leverage as I thought of how I wanted him to take me. My other hand worked in a steady rhythm between my legs, my fingers pressing firmly against the warmth that was building inside of me. Tonight I would be all his but now I needed this time to myself. No matter how perfectly formed a man might be, he can never compare to the power of your own thoughts. I spread my legs as wide as our small shower would allow and thrust my hand hard against myself. I bit my lip for moment before letting myself go and moaning loudly about just what I wanted him to do to me. I thought of his thick manhood pressing into me, pushing with all the force he could muster and driving me towards pleasures I couldn't even imagine. My body was loose and tight all at once as I dreamed of Cash in the shower. I rocked my hips back and forth, pushing my hand along in a steady pattern. I slipped two fingers inside myself and let out a groan of pleasure. I couldn't hope to replicate the feeling of Cash thrusting inside of me with all of his strength and all of his thickness, but my thoughts brought me to the same place.

  My wrist was a blur of motion between my legs and the relentless pounding of the warm water against my body was a constant reminder of the way that my man could make me feel. I moaned loudly as I tightened around my fingers, letting myself feel the bliss that can only come from having time to yourself with thoughts of a man who completes you. Warmth began to ball up inside me like a growing furnace of pleasure. I didn't resist the feelings at all, touching myself just the way I wanted to be touched and wishing desperately that Cash had been there to do the touching. My moment of ultimate pleasure arrived and the warmth exploded through my body like a forest fire tearing down a woody slope. Soon, every inch of my body was responding to the passionate release. My legs shook and I tightening my thighs around my fingers. My arm, braced against the wall, was quaking with pleasure. A long, soulful moan escaped my lips as I dreamed of Cash pounding into me with relentless force and tender feelings of purest love.

  The feelings receded and I let myself become calm once again, feeling more fully the pelting downpour of the shower which had become something else entirely through the power of my imagination. I stretched my limbs out all at once, bringing my mind into focus and smiling inwardly. Slowly but surely, I found myself standing in the shower once again. My dreams of what would be in store later evaporated and were replaced with the reality of what lay before me that evening.

  I finished getting myself cleaned up and stepped, dripping from the shower. I grabbed a towel off of the rack and dried myself as I stared into the mirror. I had taken to heart all of Karen's warnings about the fragility of youth. She was probably right, after all. I would never look as good again as I did then. It was a frightening thought, but at the same time it made me feel strong. I was at the top of my game. I was gorgeous and desirable. I had a wonderful man who wanted only me. I had many uncertainties about what life would bring me - I didn't even know where I was going for dinner with Cash - but I was living without fear. That's a sensation that you have to revel in whenever it comes along.

  When I was suitably dry I stepped into the bedroom and pulled open the closet door. I'd been living with Cash in the apartment he'd been renting for years, but he'd graciously allowed me to take over much of the space. There had never been any discussion about it, just his relaxed acceptance about the closet space being mine for the taking. As I was going through my wardrobe, trying to pick something upscale, I thought about the way he presented himself. It wasn't much of a challenge for a man that only wore jeans and t-shirts to go without a closet. I case aside my thoughts about whether he'd ever polish himself into a worldly gentleman. Those were the kind of thoughts that led me to consider a life with someone like Alexander Donnovan - a life I'd ultimately rejected. I was a grease monkey at heart and I couldn't very well reject a man based on his wardrobe.

  In the end I picked out a knee-length dress in white with yellow and pink flowers on it. I don't think I'd worn it in at least two years. Somehow the occasion for wearing something like that rarely came up when I spent my days elbow-deep in one engine or another. Truth be told, I wasn't even sure where the dress had come from. It was just one of the many articles I'd packed up and driven across the country when I moved my entire life to San Viero.

  I matched the dress with a cream colored matching set of underwear and low socks to go with my black shoes. I was still getting used to the warm weather of Southern California, but I have to admit it was addicting. I grew up used to the threat that - at any time - I might need to be prepared for snow. Even the summer months weren't completely safe and everyone where I come from has a catalog of stories about "the one year where we got a blizzard in July." Nobody talked about the weather in San Viero, though. When it's practically perfect all year round, you find other ways to make small talk.

  I was just setting on a purse that would go with my dress when I heard the front door of the apartment open. I hadn't heard Cash pull up on his bike so I was momentarily startled before I heard him calling through the apartment for me.

  "Emma?" he said loudly. "You just about ready?"

  "Yep!" I responded, "I'll be right with you." I gave my hair one last look in the mirror. I had given it a cursory brushing, but it was far from styled. I was wearing lightly colored lipstick but no other makeup. You can take the mechanic out of the garage, but... well, you know the rest. I shrugged and gave the mirror a smile. I looked good and I knew Cash would feel the same way. What mattered wasn't the amount of time I spent preparing myself but the way I felt at the end of the process. Neither of us had a name like Donnovan to open doors for us, but I still felt like a million bucks.

  I stepped out into the living room and nearly shrieked. The only thing that stopped me was the wide smile that appeared on my face, making it hard to vocalize anything whatsoever. Cash was standing there before me - and he was wearing a suit. It was dark - almost but not quite black - and he was wearing a charcoal gray shirt with a black tie. I can't help but feel that he got his fashion cues from Johnny Cash. The suit was well proportioned and Cash had obviously spent some time on his hair as well. It was still sticking up in places, just like always, but now it seemed deliberate. He was leaning against the wall in the hallway in a pose that looked completely unnatural. I couldn't help but la
ugh and he straightened his posture immediately.

  "What are you wearing?!" I finally burst out at him, covering my wide smile with my hand.

  "You like it?" he asked. "I got it last week and I've been hiding it so you didn't get a sneak preview."

  I stepped towards him and slipped my hands inside his jacket. I could feel his tough and unyielding body through the thin material of his gray shirt. Beneath this disguise, the man I knew was still there. I pressed my lips against his as a very clear answer to his question. I liked everything I was seeing before me, and I was overjoyed once again at the small surprises he could still show me. Cash was a man of depths that had never explored by me or - if I was right - by any woman. Tonight was going to be even better than I'd hoped.

  I pushed my hand beneath his arm and we stepped towards the door of the apartment. As I passed beneath the helmet rack I reached for mine but he stopped me.

  "Won't be needing that," Cash said with a smile. I couldn't even imagine what he meant until we stepped out the door. There, in front of the house, was a sleek, black Mercedes. I recognized it from the shop. It belonged to Reginald Donnovan. He'd had it left it there days earlier, asking if we'd take a look at it. There was nothing wrong with the car, of course. I got the feeling that he'd just wanted to treat his business partnership with the Dead Men more like a friendship. Of course, he'd gone about it in entirely the wrong way. With the amount of work that needed to be done around Peasant lately, we didn't have the time to spare to look at a car that was running fine - especially when we weren't getting paid for the job. It was a waste of time, but it was a beautiful car. Ordinarily, taking a car from the lot would be breaking one of the cardinal rules of an auto mechanic, but this was something else.