Dead Men Motorcycle Club Page 5

  A hand touched me on the shoulder and I spun, startled. It was Tubbs. He had been driving the van, rather than a part of the crowd. I nearly flinched away from him, but then I remembered the way we'd spoken the previous night and realized he was just trying to comfort me. His president and friend had just been shot, but he was sparing a moment of comfort for me - there was definitely more to Tubbs than what I had first assumed.

  "It was those bastards. Trenchers," he said flatly.

  "What happened? Was there a big fight?" I asked him. I was full of questions. There didn't seem to be any other injured, but how could I be sure? Was there going to be retaliation? Will this place be swarming with cops? Did San Viero even have a police force?

  "Not a big fight, no," he explained, "We were talking to Martin, the top guy in the Trenchers. Everything seemed to be fine with him, but whatever deal they were making didn't sit well with his vice, apparently. After they shook on it and we started walking away, that prick pulled a Saturday night special and put one in Cash. From the look of it, Martin didn't know it was coming. He was as shocked as we were."

  "Holy shit! What happened next?" I demanded. By this point I was twisting the rag so hard in my hands that they were starting to ache.

  "Well," he said, "Martin ran for cover, but that prick just stood there like he was gloating or something. He didn't take another shot right away, which was good for us and bad for him. Me and Kurt had our pieces out in a second and he was down. Woulda been a firefight with the rest of the Trenchers, but Cash and Martin were both yelling for their sides to calm down. If that bullet had been a few inches to the side, Cash woulda been gone and there's no way we'd have gotten out of there without a lot more bullets flying."

  I feel like I was going to be sick and I was sure I was turning green. I looked down and saw that Tubbs' hands were red with blood, presumably from helping Cash into the van. "Is he okay? Is he going to be okay, Tubbs?"

  "Shit, I don't know," he said, exasperated, "He took it in the shoulder, but I don't know what's what. Hep was an army doc, so he knows how to patch guys up. I'm sure he's with him now. Once it calms down a little you should go see him."

  "Me?" I asked, off balance, "But... I mean..."

  "I'm not an idiot, Emma," he said to me, "Everybody knows the way Cash has been looking at you and the way you've been looking at him. You two might not have everything figured out yet, but it's clear to the rest of us."

  I just stood there, too shocked to say anything. I figured that my ride with Cash was the talk of the clubhouse - at least until Cash took a bullet - but evidently the gossips had come to a conclusion that I hadn't. They saw how I felt about Cash, deep down, even if I was trying to deny it to myself ever since Karen had told me. Now I was being confronted with everything, all at once. My feelings for Cash were being put to the test when the evidence of his bloody and dangerous lifestyle couldn't have been more obvious.

  Just then, Zach came walking out of the garage. He had a scowl on his face as usual.

  "You gonna finish that transmission any time today, Emma? What's the hold up?"

  Before I could say anything, Tubbs turned on him and spoke up for me.

  "Lay off her, Zach," he said, "Cash took one in the shoulder. He's inside now with Hep."

  All of the ferocity went out of Zach's face then, and he quieted down. Apparently even he could see that there was something between Cash and I, and that I had more important concerns than a beat up old Chevy. Tubbs turned back to me and tried his best to smile.

  "He's going to be okay, Emma," he said, "Let's get a drink and wait to see what Hep can do."

  The two of us walked towards the clubhouse, leaving Zach behind to have the garage to himself. For the first time in a very long time, I had no desire to be in a garage right then. Usually working on cars was a great way to work through my problems, but just then it felt almost blasphemous that I would be working when someone I cared for was in danger.

  The clubhouse was larger than seemed to be from the outside, in part due to the high ceilings and a large bay of windows against the rear wall. A handful of Dead Men were standing around talking loudly, presumably about the deal with the Trenchers and what had gone wrong. Tubbs led me over to a long bar and went behind it. He grabbed two glasses and a bottle of rum and poured. I'm not usually a big rum drinker, but if that was what Tubbs was recommending as my ersatz therapist, then who was I to disagree? I drank down the shot and pushed the glass over to him for another.

  As I started in on my second shot, a couple of Dead Men I hadn't met before came over to the bar. They were both young, and from their patches, one of them seemed to be a recruit.

  "What happened, Tubbs?" asked the slightly older one.

  Tubbs went into the story again, telling it to those two just the same as he'd told it to me. Neither the two fresh faces nor anyone else in the clubhouse seemed to be bothered by my presence. I was sure it wasn't the strangest thing in the world having a woman around here, but this was a tense time and I was an outsider. More and more I felt like the Dead Men had already decided what I would do about Cash before I had decided for myself. To them, I was already his girl, even if neither of us had admitted it yet.

  A door opened at the back of the room and Hep stepped out. He went to the sink behind the bar and started washing his hands, which were slick with blood. From all sides he was being pestered with questions about Cash, but he stayed quiet. When his hands were clean he walked to the other side of the bar and approached me. I didn't know what to say so I said nothing.

  "He want to see you," he said.

  My eyes went wide. Cash wants to see me? I was suddenly very worried that the other bikers were going to see it as a slight that he wanted to see me and not them. I could only hope that the widespread certainty they seemed to have about Cash and I would smooth over this slight as well.

  I nodded at Hep and got off my stool. As I walked towards the door, the questions of the Dead Men resumed, practically yelling at Hep to provide them with some answers, but he didn't have any for them and stayed silent. I stepped into the room and shut the door behind me.

  It was a bare room with a low, wide metal table. Cash was sitting on the edge of it, wrapping a bandage around his shoulder. When I walked in he smiled, and my heart melted. If he had a smile to offer me, then things were going to be alright. I rushed over to him and, without a moment's hesitation, put my hands against his broad, bare chest. He stopped winding the bandage and looked me square in the eyes.

  "Are you alright?" I asked him, "Are you going to be okay?"

  He put his hand against the side of my head and neck and pulled me close to him. I felt like a puppet, completely in his control at that moment. Even if I hadn't wanted to, there was nothing I could have done about it. Our lips met and still I was in shock, but only for a moment. When my brain finally registered what had just happened, I pushed my arms around his neck and kissed him deeply. He held me close to him and said nothing, preferring to let his lips and tongue show me just how he felt about me.

  Cash's face - which was ordinarily smooth and soft, was rough with stubble that morning. His hair was uncharacteristically messy, and it was obvious he'd been in a fight - thought I knew it had been rather one-sided. As I put my arms around his neck, I was careful to avoid his shoulder, knowing that he must be pain. Our kisses were frenzied and desperate, as though we were two long lost lovers who had been pulled apart for years. In truth, I knew the feelings that were running through Cash that morning. He had been faced with mortality, and there was only one way to answer the threat of death; you have to answer it with life.

  That vitality flowed from him into me and I felt a surge of emotion and energy carrying me forward. I pressed myself against him, probing his mouth with my tongue and feeling his tightly muscled body beneath my hands. All of the trappings of him that I found so contrasting with his life seemed to have fallen away in that moment. His hair, his face, even the scent of him was different. When I'd met h
im, he was the picture of duality - the rough and the gentle all in one. In that moment, however, he was only the animal inside, and the rest had been temporarily discarded.

  He pulled me close, favoring his left hand, and pulled me tight against his him. For a moment I was worried about how dirty I must be from the garage until I realized that he wouldn't mind. Hell, he might even prefer me this way. My breasts pressed against his muscled chest, and I could feel the way the sensation of him against me was causing my nipples to react. I was sure he could feel it as well. My shirt was thin and there was no mistaking that feeling for something else.

  I was glad for it, and wanted to show him just how much I needed him. All of the second guessing I'd done and all of the rationalizations I'd come up with for not wanting to be with him were discarded in a split second when his lips met mine. He was still a criminal. He may even be a murderer. Here he was with the evidence of his dangerous life painted across his body with a thick bandage on his shoulder to prove it, but I felt none of the reservations I'd held inside of me, just a short while before. There with him in that small room, there was only the desire to be close to him. Nothing else mattered.

  His hands moved across my back and my skin was dancing with pleasure at his touch. Even injured, there was immense power in his hands. I had spent most of my life repairing and creating things with my hands, but I felt small next to him. It wasn't just that he was much larger than me - because he was - but that the world here in San Viero seemed to rotate around him. No matter what I'd done with my life, I couldn't claim the kind of focus that he had. Hell, aside from Karen and Cash, the closest thing I had to a friend was Tubbs. I was practically alone here in my new home, but the way he touched me felt welcoming. More than that, I could feel his desire in every caress.

  His fingers made their way to the bottom of my shirt and slipped inside. In less than a second, he was pulling my shirt upwards across my body, and I simply leaned back from his kisses to allow him to remove it. I'm not immodest, and I'm far from an exhibitionist, but I wanted him to see me more than anything. I wanted him to fuel the burning desire that had been kindled within him with thoughts of my naked body pressing against his. We had a connection that was deeper and more significant than any I'd ever known, and I wanted to show him just how much that meant to me.

  He pulled my shirt over my head and tossed it to the side of the room where it landed on an empty countertop. I was suddenly grateful that I was wearing a decent bra that day - a thin lacy one that was light grey. It had a small bow of grey silk in the middle. I had always had a tendency towards things like bows and ribbons, so long as they were only on my undergarments. When you're a woman who has put herself into such a male-dominated line of work, it's a simple thing to allow your femininity to slowly erode, and the little efforts that can be made to preserve it were always worth it in my opinion.

  Cash spared only a moment's glance at my uncovered body before pulling me back against him for another kiss. He was still sitting on the edge of the table, and I stood between his knees. I could feel the heat rising from his body, even greater than it had been when I first entered the room.

  He pulled away from our kiss.

  "When I went down," he said, "all I could think of was you. I knew that I had to get back here to you. I couldn't bear never having this chance."

  I felt like my heart was going to burst in my chest. "Cash," I said to him, "I haven't stopped thinking of you since yesterday. When I saw you come out of the van..."

  "It's alright, Em," he said, gently stroking my short hair with his left hand, "I would never let a bullet stop me from getting back to you."

  No more needed to be said and I pushed myself forward to kiss him once again. This time, our desperation for one another was more focused. Before there had been some uncertainty as to each other's feelings, but now there was only the knowledge that neither of us would let anything get in the way of our passion for one another.

  As my hands explored his body, I carefully brushed my fingers against his bandaged shoulder. I had spent so many years fixing cars, but when it came down to it, I knew that fixing a person was much the same. Some people say the first step is to diagnose the problem, but they're missing something. Before you can evaluate an engine, you have to evaluate yourself. You have to know what you're capable of before you can even consider trying to fix whatever the problem is. People are much the same. Here was a man who had been shot. Diagnosing the problem might seem simple, but it isn't. When I first looked inside myself as he held me in his arms, I saw just what I was capable of. I saw the growing devotion to this man that I already felt and I knew how to show him that he was still alive. I'm no doctor. I can't heal a wound. It's the same as with cars. If I don't know how to fix something, I can either learn how or I can figure out what I can do. Hep had done what he could for Cash's shoulder, but he needed me to make him feel alive once again.

  I pushed my hands down his chest and past his rock hard stomach to his belt. Keeping my lips against his, I fumbled slightly with the buckle but eventually got it undone. With that first barrier out of the way, my fingers went to work on his jeans. I could feel the thickness of him beneath my fingers already. Knowing when a man is aroused is never a huge challenge, but Cash couldn't have hidden it from me in that position, even if he'd wanted to. As I worked the button of his jeans open with one hand, my other pressed against him through his pants. I could feel how hard he was already, and growing harder with every second and even beat of his heart. When I finally managed to get his fly open, he nearly burst forth from inside.

  Without pausing to consider further, I pushed my fingers into the fly of his underwear and wrapped them around the shaft of his rigid member. I could feel the heat rising off of him in waves and the surprising hardness of his manhood. I pulled him out into the open air of the room and opened my eyes as I kissed him. I gave him one long glance that was dripping with intent before breaking our kiss and bending low to put my lips around the head of his hardened cock.

  Having him there inside my mouth was magical from the first taste. The animal allure of him was so powerful that I felt helpless to do anything but please him in that position. He was thick and hard and my tongue and lips wetted the head of his cock in moments. I twisted my tongue around it, and I could feel the way the blood was rushing just beneath the surface. I pushed my head forward further, taking as much of him into my mouth as I could until I felt the head of his cock brushing against the back of my throat. Again and again, I pulled my head back before pushing it forwards once more.

  Above me, he put his hands against the sides of my head lightly and closed his eyes. I stared up at him, catching his glance whenever they opened, happy to give him the sight of a beautiful girl between his legs, sucking his cock and hungrily pressing herself onto him. My tongue maneuvered around the shaft of his manhood, giving me a clear taste of him. He tasted like a man. The much should be obvious, I suppose, but it was more than that. The way he tasted reminded me of hunting, of toughness and of determination. He wouldn't let himself be stopped by a bullet in the shoulder, and I wanted to show him that I had vitality to match his.

  Over and over I pushed him past my lips, stroking his shaft with my hand as I went. His hands against my head would sometimes tense up and I knew I'd found a sweet spot. He softly moaned my name and I smiled around his cock. I kept my eyes fixed on his and I did everything I could to show just how badly I wanted him.

  He slipped a couple fingers beneath my chin and slowly pulled me away from his cock. It slipped from my lips and a long strand of shimmering saliva briefly connected us. I grinned up at him, wondering why he had stopped me, but certain that I was going to like the answer, whatever it would be. I stood up straight next to him and he hopped down off the table. He pulled me close to him to kiss me briefly before pulling away again and pushing his pants and underwear to the floor, where he stepped out of them. I gave his now completely naked body a long look and without even realizing it, I was p
ressing my finger between my legs, feeling the heat that was emanating from inside, even through my jeans. I quickly unbuttoned them and pulled them down as well, my small grey panties along with them, and he grinned at me, glad to see that I was following suit.

  He put his hand against my hip and turned me around, facing the table. I put both of my hands against it and spread my stance wide. He came up behind me and one hand went around my chest, softly squeezing one of my breasts, still clad in my thin, grey bra. I leaned over further, pushing my ass towards him and he didn't waste another moment.

  He took his shaft in hand and guided the head of his cock towards the wetness that was dripping between my thighs. He pushed it against my labia briefly, though it was already soaking wet from my tongue and lips just a minute before. I moaned softly, aching to feel him inside of me and certain that he was just as desperate. He slowly pushed himself inside of me and I couldn't help but to gasp at the size of him as he entered. His manhood was thick and hard and I felt stretched by him as he pushed the length of it slowly into me with short thrusts. I felt his body press against mine and squeezed myself around him, wanting to feel every inch of that magnificent cock inside of me.

  He put his hands on my hips and began thrusting into me with greater force. Every time he would draw himself out of me nearly all the way before pushing inside and making me gasp all over again. His hands were strong but soft against my hips, giving me a taste of that contrast I'd seen in him so frequently. Meanwhile, his member buried itself deep inside of me, each time feeling like he was growing harder and thicker. I moaned loudly, unable to contain myself. The magnetism of this man couldn't be denied and I was in heaven as he took me for the first time.

  I braced myself with one arm and thrust the other between my legs. I brushed my fingers softly across my clit, sparing a moment to touch the shaft of his hard cock as it pushed again and again into me. I rubbed my clit in small circles feeling the slippery pleasure that it caused, a soft feeling next to the powerful thrusting. I abandoned all gentleness with myself and pushed my fingers hard against my clit, letting out a high pitched wail of pleasure as I did so. He took this as further encouragement and pounded into me with greater vigor than before. With every impact my body shook and my breasts bounced. My hand stayed steady and rhythmic against my clit, urging myself into deeper and greater pleasures than ever before.