CHAINED: A Motorcycle Club Romance (9 page)

The metaphor didn't fly over Cain's head, despite the beer. "Please - any of those men would be going crazy if they knew all the tricks you've picked up that you could show them."

"That's strong coming from you - you've seen all those tricks," Cheery retorted. "I ought to put you on my resume as a reference."

"Whores have resumes?"

"Well, we've got a list of names to call if we need favors," she smirked. Her hand, around his waist, slid a little lower. "Now, are you going to keep on standing out here all night?"

Cain glanced down at her. "What are you suggesting?"

Cheery grinned up at him, even as she moved in to bring her other hand in around his thick waist as well. "I know you've got to be around when the prospects arrive, but we've got a good bit of time before that," she suggested. "You and I could duck inside, find a bit of privacy before the whole house is filled with drunk, high bikers rampaging everywhere."

He opened his mouth to reply, but the crash of a shattering window made him wince before he could speak. "You sure we're not too late already?" he asked ruefully, glancing up and trying to figure out which pane of glass had broken.

By this point, Cheery's hand had dropped down quite a bit from his waist, and it was now groping at areas that were very sensitive and aware of its presence. "I think we can still find a spot that will be secluded enough," she whispered, rising up on her tiptoes to bring her lips within range of his ear.

Feeling her warm breath against his earlobe, Cain felt himself make a decision. He reached out with his own hand and tightened it around Cheery's waist, pulling her up to press against his chest. He easily lifted her up off her own feet, feeling her warm breasts press up against his chest, and kissed her.

"Lead on," he instructed.

With a grin, Cheery towed him inside.

#

About a half mile down the road from Cain's house, a man sitting in the back of a van glanced sideways at his companions.

The man had a name, to be sure, but to the others in the van he was known only as Bulldog. Bulldog liked to claim that he'd earned this nickname for both his loyalty and his pugnacious nature, and none of the others would disagree - at least to his face. In private, they admitted that the nickname was due as much to the way that the man tended to shove out his unfortunately large jaw, along with his perpetually grumpy nature, but they knew better than to utter this comment anywhere that Bulldog might hear.

At the moment, Bulldog felt even more grumpy than usual. His boss, Archon, had reamed him out, and Bulldog was looking forward to the opportunity to make things right with his employer - or, at the very least, to spread that shit around with a big shovel.

"Okay, you idiots," he growled, glaring around at the other men in the back of the van with him. "You know the drill. Kevin's gonna knock at the front door and feed them the 'escaped mental patient' line, and we're gonna creep around the back and check the windows. If we see the girl, we grab her, and make sure no one else sees. Anyone makes any trouble, let them have it. Boss wants this all cleaned up - no traces."

The other men nodded, their hands resting comfortably on the weapons they held in their arms. Most of them had chosen shotguns, although one or two carried pistols.

They knew what "no traces" meant.

Bulldog sighed, adjusting the black balaclava pulled over his head. "Right. Remember, she's got reddish blonde hair, skinny, probably gonna be scared and run at the first sound."

He racked the pump action on his own shotgun, making sure there was a shell loaded in the chamber and ready to fire.

"Don't hesitate - make sure the bitch is either in here, or dead."

The van rumbled on, heading up towards the house ahead of them.

Chapter fourteen

Inside Cain's house, the party had already deteriorated into near-chaos.

Cain observed this with a bemused half-grin on his face as he followed Cheery inside. This is what happens, he thought to himself, when a whole group of young alpha males are mixed together with a bunch of hungry, willing females - and then, just to light off the whole powder keg, alcohol is dumped over everyone.

In the living room, at least, clothes were still on - at least for the moment, although that fact looked likely to change at any moment. Tommy, still on the couch, had slipped back into a reclining position, and the young woman who had invited him in was now crouched on top of him, her lips locked to his as she rubbed her hips back and forth across his crotch.

Seth, on the other couch, also had a girl on his lap - although this one was facing away from him, laughing as she slid her hips back and forth across him. Seth looked to be enjoying the lap dance, although the already half-empty handle of Jim Beam sitting on the coffee table between the two pairs suggested that all of the men and women were well lubricated.

Even as they passed, Cain spotted Tommy's hands rising up, sliding up the back of the girl on top of him. Those questing fingers found the string of the girl's bikini top and tugged it free, releasing her tits to drop out and swing free in front of him. A moment later, his hands were curled around them, his thumbs flicking over her nipples and making her give a little shudder of pleasure.

Next to him, Cheery shook her head with a little tutting noise. "Like I said, no control at all," she pointed out.

"This coming from the woman dragging me in for a quickie before the prospects even arrive," Cain murmured back to her.

"I suppose I really shouldn't be the one to talk, huh?" Dancing nimbly in between the two engrossed couples, Cheery snagged the open Jim Beam bottle off the table, lifting it to her lips to take a swig. "Wooh! Need a sip?"

Cain took the offered bottle and tilted it back, swallowing a good slug of the stinging liquor. He let out a little growl of approval as it slid down his throat and sent warmth immediately into his belly. "Ahh." For a moment, something tickled at the back of his mind, some errand he'd promised to attend to, but he couldn't quite remember what it had been.

And a moment later, Cheery was in his arms once again, distracting him and making that vague memory flee back into the depths of his mind.

The woman tasted like whiskey, like the promise of fun about to come. She leapt up and threw her legs around Cain's waist, clinging to him like a tree trunk as her arms around his neck pulled him close for a deep, tongue-filled kiss.

She slid down after a moment, and Cain grabbed the opportunity to take another swig of the Jim Beam. Glancing over into the living room once again, he noticed that Seth's pants seemed to have mysteriously slid down towards his knees, and his grin looked several degrees wider as the girl bounced up and down on his lap.

"Savages," he murmured under his breath, although he couldn't keep from grinning as he watched the two younger bikers lose themselves in carnal enjoyment.

Again, he was dragged away as Cheery slid one hand under his shirt, feeling his tight abs. "Hey, what's it going to be?" she asked him. "I could have anyone, you know! But I'm offering you first chance to fuck my brains out up in that big bed of yours."

That's right - he just had to take her upstairs-

Upstairs! Where, just across from his room, he'd put Jenna!

Even through the haze of drunkenness already rising up in front of his eyes, Cain winced. He'd promised to check in on her before the party started, but he'd been distracted by helping offload the booze.

"Cheery, I'll meet you up there," he promised the woman currently exploring whether he was wearing any underwear. "I just need to go check on Jenna, first."

Cheery pouted at him for a moment, sticking out her lower lip. "As long as checking on her is all you're doing," she complained. For a moment, her tipsy act fell away. "That girl's fragile, Cain, more than you know. Don't rush her into anything that could break her beyond any recovery."

Cain blinked. Cheery suddenly looked as though she could read into Cain's innermost thoughts. "I'm just making sure she's okay," he tried to defend himself. "Promise - I'll meet you in my room in just a minute."

For a long minute, Cheery looked at him, her lips pressed together into a thin line. But just as he was about to break down and try and defend his inner urges, she nodded, and smiled once again as she snagged the Jim Beam from him for another swallow.

"Better not keep me waiting," she called over her shoulder as she sauntered towards the stairs. "When I'm drunk like this, I tend to need something big and long in my mouth, and I'll go out to find one if it doesn't land in front of me..."

At those words, Cain had to swallow audibly, feeling his pants bulging with his hard erection.

After giving himself a moment to get his mind back under control, he followed Cheery upstairs, although he turned to the right instead of the left. He'd put Jenna right in this room here...

The room's door was closed. Cain raised one hand and gently bumped his knuckles against the door.

"Jenna? Can I come in?" he asked, carefully opening the door, trying not to startle her if she hadn't heard his announcement.

Inside the room, he found Jenna standing on a chair up against the far wall, her back to him, all of her attention focused on the wall in front of her. She held a can of paint in one hand and a paintbrush in the other, and was carefully dabbing at the wall in front of her.

She heard the scrape of the door as Cain opened it, and spun around, hopping down lightly from her perch. "Hey!" she greeted him, wearing a smile bigger than anything he'd yet seen on her face until now. "What do you think?"

Cain stared at the wall, his mouth hanging open.

Jenna had clearly set out to paint a motorcycle, in full life size. It wasn't a perfect picture, of course - the dimensions didn't look quite right, and even with several real-life examples sitting outside, the engine and pipes didn't quite connect properly.

Where she had succeeded perfectly, however, was in capturing the essence of a bike.

The painting somehow screamed out speed, savage beauty, powerful aggression barely refined in chrome and steel. The bike looked as if it was ready to come roaring off the wall and go tearing off through the bedroom, breaking down doors in a bid for freedom, to reach those distant horizons.

"You- you painted this?" he asked weakly, staring at the painting as if entranced.

Jenna nodded happily, carefully setting the paint can down and balancing the brush on top. Cain noted that she'd even put down the tarps as he'd suggested, covering the floor with canvas to avoid any drips.

"I thought you'd like it," she said softly, clearly watching him closely for his reaction. "Do you?"

It took the man a moment to find his voice. "This is amazing," he said honestly. "I mean, it just looks so alive!"

Suddenly, the alcohol in his stomach made his vision blur, and Cain sat down on the bed next to the door. Jenna moved over and sat down next to him. He dimly noted that he could feel her leg bumping up against his, her hip beside him, but he still felt mesmerized by the painting.

"You've got amazing talent," he said, half to himself. "That's unbelievable."

Finally, his eyes shifted sideways, over to the girl herself on the bed next to him. She was looking up at him with those big green-blue eyes, watching him closely. There was still a little hint of a smile about her expression, but it looked more like she was trying to read him.

Again, Cain suddenly felt as though gravity was pulling them in closer, dragging him by the lips towards her mouth. Jenna's face filled his vision, a point of constancy as the rest of the room swirled around him.

This time, he didn't resist that attraction.

He leaned in, and just before his eyes closed, he felt the feather-soft brush of Jenna's lips on his, a shy point of contact that felt new, exploring, so unlike anything happening down between the drunk bikers and girls downstairs.

And a second later, they were both falling back on the bed, a tangle of arms and limbs as they both hungrily pulled at each other, feeling desire taking over their bodies and propelling them together.

Chapter fifteen

Cain landed on his back, the motion pulling Jenna up on top of him. She, in turn, threw herself across his body, clutching at his shoulders. He could feel her lips everywhere, kissing and nibbling at his lips, his chin, his face.

His hands slid over her thin, slender body, holding her up against him. He could feel her heart beating rapidly as he squeezed her chest up against him. The clothes she wore felt thin as paper, and he imagined that he could sense the heat of her body radiating into him.

One hand dropped down to curl around her ass, to squeeze that little curve, and Jenna gasped as he squeezed. But before he could even think to worry that he might be hurting her, her mouth was back on his again, kissing and intruding with renewed intensity.

In between his legs, Cain's cock throbbed with urgent hunger. He couldn't even remember the last time he had shared his bed with a woman. That had been why he'd approached Cheery this evening, hadn't it? But even that thought only held on for a fraction of a second before it was washed away by pure, overwhelming sensation.