It Ain't Me, Babe
I watched the sea of stars up above and as we lay in silence, I wrapped Mae’s braid around my hand. Then she lifted her head, a pink blush spreading on her cheeks. Moving down, she brushed her lips against mine, rearing back a fraction to whisper, “Sinning never felt so good.”
“Am I c-corrupting you, b-babe?” I said, unable to stop from smirking.
Mae’s finger traced lazy circles on my chest. “You are my biggest temptation, Styx, my personal forbidden fruit. But I want you regardless of if it is deemed wrong or immoral. I want you to… to…” Her eyebrows pulled down as she struggled to find the right words. “What do your biker women say…?” Her nose scrunched in thought, then she smiled excitedly and looked up at me with her stunning, huge wolf eyes. “I want you to own me.” She lifted to her elbows, her hips twitching in need. “I want you to… to…” Mae blushed and dipped her head.
I placed my finger under her chin and forced her head up to see me. “You w-want me t-to f-fuck you, Mae.”
Her tongue darted out and she licked along her bottom lip, nodding her head. “Tonight, Styx… despite the scars. I want you to show me what being with a man should be like. What giving my body and soul to you should be like.”
Fuck… Me…
Sitting upright, I pressed a kiss to the pulse on Mae’s neck and announced, “L-let’s get the f**k h-home.”
Forty minutes later and too many repeats of Nine Inch Nail’s “Closer” ripping through my head, we rolled down the country road to the compound, Mae licking and biting at my neck, her hand drifting over my still-granite cock, unable to keep her hands off me.
It was the f**kin’ worst form of torture and, for the first time in my life, I almost crashed my bike.
As we approached the back road to the clubhouse, a blacked-out truck parked off to the side caught my attention. Cutting the headlights, plunging us into darkness, I signaled for Mae to be quiet as I turned slowly into the gravel side road. I moved quietly to higher ground to check out who was scoping the compound.
Rolling to the top of the grassy hill, I could see the black Chevy truck about fifty yards away from the main gate. It had a f**kin’ ton of ammo in the back, what looked like homemade IED’s, and a big ol’ swastika bumper sticker on the tailgate.
“F-Fuck!” I hissed quietly.
“What is it?” Mae asked, concern in her breathy voice.
“FUCK!” I spat out again.
Mae’s whole body stiffened. “What, Styx? You are scaring me.”
“G-Gotta take you b-back.”“No! What about you? I want to stay with you—”
“Mae! G-Gotta get you back inside. G-Gotta be p-protected.”
As quietly as possible we rolled down the hill, engine cut, then I hit the remote for the gate, the metal grinding as the gate started to move. That got the Neo f**kers’ attention. Wheels began burning rubber and they jetted off down the road.
Pussies. Don’t have the balls to take on the Hangmen on even ground.
My bike’s engine roared to life as I hit the ignition and gunned it to the gate. I skidded to an abrupt stop. “M-Mae, off. Tell Ky to call me. I g-gotta chase them.” We had to know where they were hiding out. It was my only chance. The pricks were getting too close to getting their hit.
Too f**kin’ close.
Mae began shaking her head, tears filling her eyes, gripping too tight to my waist, refusing to let me go.
Jumping off my bike, I lifted her up and planted her feet on the asphalt instructing her exactly what to tell Ky. “Y-you g-got all that?” I asked when I’d finished speaking. She nodded and I jumped back on my bike. She still didn’t move.
“Mae! D-do it!”
“Styx—” she cried, stepping forward.
“B-BABE! GO!”
Stumbling away, she begged, “Come back to me… please…” and ran full force into the clubhouse.
FUCK!
Roaring away with a screech on the empty road, I pursued the Chevy. I was sure I caught sight of the f**ker a few miles down the road. Dropping back, I killed my headlights, smirking when the skinheads slowed, thinking they got away good and free. They had no idea of the f**kin’ shitstorm about to blow their way.
Forty-five minutes later, the Chevy turned onto a dark dirt road, leading to a rundown cattle ranch. The skinheads in black balaclavas got out and entered the old barn. The f**kers were all together, easy targets, but Ky still hadn’t called for the location.
Parking my Harley off the side of the road, I checked my cell.