Two weeks later
Bliss. Who’d have thought? I sure didn’t. But it’s amazing how life changes. My arms hold G.T. snug as the roar of his Harley’s engine rumbles between my spread legs. My pussy vibrates as I push it closer into G.T.’s tight ass. The wind whips through my hair as my lid and shades block the bugs from crashing into my eyes. I learned as a child to keep my mouth closed, only to open it when needed. Damn if that brisk wind didn’t give ya a sore throat.
But this is what I love. I love being on the back of my man’s bike feeling the world drift by. Nothing is a blur. Everything is in full vivid color and I eat every second of it up. G.T. surprised me this morning saying he wanted to take me for a ride and I quickly obliged. There is no better place on earth, than where I am at this moment.
My mind drifts to the past few weeks and the rollercoaster that I’ve been on. There have been so many downs, but also ups to try to balance it out. One thing is for certain. I love this man. I love him down to the depths of my soul.
I hold him tighter; his hand leaves the handlebars and squeezes my hand telling me he’s feeling it too. I let everything go, and enjoy the ride.
Later that night
G.T.
The blaring noise coming from my phone wakes me from a peaceful sleep. The room is cloaked in darkness with only a small bit of moonlight coming in through a break in the curtain. Letting out a groan, I roll over and peer through squinted eyes to try to read the red digital clock that is burning my pupils. 3:37 AM. What the fuck? This had to be bad. My body falls back to the bed, but is on instant alert, unease and adrenaline begin to pump through me causing my heart to hammer in my chest.
Stretching out my arm to reach for my phone, I try to find it quickly before I wake the beautiful woman draped around me. Grabbing the denim jeans I had dropped on the ground the night before, I dig into the front pocket. I clasp my hand around the plastic device, tug it out and bring it to my face to read the caller. Pops. Shit, this really can’t be good.
“What?” I grumble into the phone and pray it is nothing. Hopeful mom has the flu or Low is having a meltdown about something. Ravage has been through the wringer lately and we are due some down time. Past due.
“Get the fuck here! Cops just left. They fucking raided the clubhouse and destroyed everything!” Pops yells in the other end of the phone.
I move out of bed careful as I can, not to jostle Angel. I shove my legs in each pant leg; the harsh denim material wakes me up even more as Pops words roll around my head. A million questions and finally I focus on one.
“They find anything?” I ask, knowing we have our skeletons we need to keep hidden at Ravage.
“I don’t fucking know. They didn’t arrest anyone, but that doesn’t mean shit.”
Pops is pissed. This is just a never ending cycle lately. We handle one situation just to have another blow up in our faces.
“On my way.” I hang up the phone and jam it back into my pocket. Turning to look at Angel, her eyes are shut, eyelashes fanning across her delicate cheeks. She looks so calm and angelic. I hate waking her, but she needs to know I’m leaving. Leaning down I kiss the top of her head and call out her name softly. With a grumble, she wakes and pouts her cherry lips.
“Baby, I’ve gotta run to the club. I’ll be back in a bit.”
Her eyes flutter open “Okay babe. Love you.”
Kissing me, she drifts back to sleep.
I snatch a cotton shirt off a hanger in the closet, slipping it on and stepping out of the dark room into the hallway and shove my feet into my boots. I walk out of our home preparing myself for whatever is going on now.
Jumping on my bike, I rev up the motor, the vibration doing nothing to calm my nerves and thoughts. I just need to get there, get the facts, and help the brother’s make a plan. Pulling back the throttle, I gun it to the clubhouse, the roar of the engine echoing on the deserted streets.
Can’t a man just get a moment of peace?