FOUND: A Motorcycle Club Romance Novel (3 page)

“Sweet... precious name.” He moved in closer and replied, “I'm Tiny... Though I
promise
you it's only a nickname. I'm as big as I look.”

My eyes widened. “You tell that to all the women?”

“All of them,” he spoke his words without letting his gaze leave me. “Some of them are even in here...”

He was coming on strong, though he had a friendliness that you wouldn't have pegged for a guy like that. He had a character that was simply likable. He might have been a giant of a man, but his beer belly and big bushy beard made me smile.

“...a lot of them are in here.”

I laughed, and had to admit the frankness of his reply was funny. My eyes scanned round the room in a futile attempt to take in the entirety. Then, through the thick smoke-filled air and darkness, I saw them hidden here and there among big groups of men.
The women
. All trashy to half-naked and leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. In the midst of all this leather, denim and chaos they were draped over arms, knees and tables. I pointed towards a group of strippers-on-steroids doing shots with at least ten eager guys encouraging them on. “Any of them?”

“Baby,” he paused. “...
All of them
!”

Suddenly, as we made our way through the crowd, a group of guys cheering to my left caught my notice. Ten of them stood around a seated young guy, his face swollen so black and blue that he looked like he had just gone ten rounds with the heavyweight champ. But his slumping, half-conscious body wasn't the strangest thing. In front of him knelt a leggy brunette blowing him to kingdom
cum
! Her face lit up with a huge smile while she drove herself down onto his dick with wanton abandon engulfing every inch of his tool. The young guy seemed too out of it – maybe from the marks, though from the way it smelled in here maybe drugs too – to fully understand what was going on. Still, it didn't stop her or the excitement it drove the audience too. Each sloppy suck sent the nearby crowd wild.

The shaven headed one attracted Jerome's attention with a point of his finger. He warned with the type of booming voice that carried over anything, “You better watch your woman. On a night like this some of the guys in here'll stake a claim.”

“It's cool, it's cool.” Jerome waived his hand dismissively without looking back at me. Past that I couldn't hear what they discussed, but their serious expressions indicated business. They separated, Jerome going for the bar with the other heading into the crowd, and I was left with the big guy.

“Enjoying the show?” He said to me with a big salacious smile. “Kid's getting the royal treatment tonight.”

I could feel my cheeks blushing red. It's not often you get a front row seat at a live sex show. “Why is she blowing him in here?”

“What's that?” He shouted.

I repeated myself.

“No good, I can't hear you. Come closer.”

I moved in and felt his hand reach down the base of my spine. “I said---”

He started before I needed to repeat myself. “New prospect. She's welcoming him to the club the way she does best. The full works. That's how we introduce someone to the club.”

“With a blowjob?”

His grin grew bigger. “You're too innocent. I like it.”

While his eyes lingered over me every chance they got, he was easygoing and sociable. At what must have been three hundred pounds of muscle and belly, Tiny wasn't the most fitting of names. Next to him my little five-four frame was, well, actually tiny.

“That's some welcome. What's with the bruises? She done that too?”

He leaned in. His resonating laugh tickled my ear. “Come on. Let's get you a drink.”

Of course, he didn't lead me to the bar, where Jerome stood. Tiny cut us through the crowd and towards the show. With a huge swipe of his paw, he grabbed a bottle from a nearby table and presented me with the beer. He ran his hand up my side and asked, “Need a hand?”

“No! I can do it myself,” I shouted over the chaos before twisting the bottle cap off with my teeth. That's one of my party tricks.

“Damn sugar!” Shouted a woman's voice to my right. A busty blonde dressed from head to toe in red paraded through the crowd and stood next to us. She spoke with a strong Southern accent while fighting back her laughter, “I ain't seen you rejected like that in a long time Tiny!”

Tiny tried to shake off the embarrassment on his face. “You're always killing my game Blanche. Stop cutting in.”

A cigarette dangled from her painted fingernails and she put her hand out for mine. “Nice to meet you darling, I'm Blanche.”

“Cassie,” I replied thankful to meet another woman not being used as a sexy toy in this masculine environment.

And she was some woman. On her six inch heels she towered over most of the men in here with a confidence that also had most of them beat. I would have thought a big busty blond like that would be eaten alive by the kind of men in here, though nothing about this environment fazed her. She appeared as at home as anyone.

“What brings you here? This isn't a place for a Little Bo Peep like you to be walking alone in.” Her phrasing may have been patronizing, though the warmth in her voice certainly wasn't. I got the impression she genuinely cared.

“Business.” Out of nowhere the bald biker from earlier appeared and responded for me. “You seen the president? He's not out back.”

Not put off by his sharp manner, she placed an arm around him and pulled him in close. “Can't you have one night off, Anton? We're supposed to be celebrating the kid's special night. He got through alright.”

Yet her affection did nothing to change his steely expression. “Not when there's money to be made. Seen him or not, B?”

“Last I saw him he was heading out back, baby.” She kissed him on the cheek where his big scar was, though with the aviators he wore it was hard to tell what he thought of it.

“Come on, Tiny. We're finding him.”

“Sorry babe... Gotta go.” Tiny cut through the crowd with his vice president.

Blanche's gaze followed her man out of sight with affection. She clearly loved him. A blind man could have told you that. Though it was hard to believe they were a couple. Next to her clearly vivacious personality, Anton, more pit bull than man, was as hard as stone. I guess opposites do attract.

“Your man?” I asked to start conversation.

“Yeah. I'm his old lady. Couldn't you tell?”

“
Old lady
?” I asked quizzically. She certainly didn't look old. She couldn't be more than thirty and was probably younger.

“Sugar you are innocent, aren't you? I take it you're new to our life... That means I'm his woman and no man would dare to take a single piece of my pie. But not all girls have that. If you're in here without a man a girl's likely to be in for
quite
a night.”

Suddenly, shouts from around the live sexy show drew our notice.

“Cum, cum, cum!” The bikers encircling the girl sucking off the prospect chanted in unison.

“Milk that dick!” Screamed a particularly raucous one. “Drain them balls!”

Evidently the show was about to reach its climax. Literally in more ways that one. Of course, the guy was too bruised to give any indication of how much he enjoyed the slobbering. Still, it continued. Now with both hands on his thighs she worked her grip up and down in a daze while her mouth swallowed his tip. Within seconds the scene reached its crescendo and the bikers made sure to show their approval by smacking the young guy on his shoulder. For the first time since I clocked eyes on the scene the guy with his pants down began stirring. It was impossible to read pleasure or pain on his busted face.

“Don't worry Cass, I'll keep an eye on you,” Blanche reassured.

Though, as the girl who had been sucking dick stepped past us wiping her wet mouth, I wasn't so sure.

“Got a man in the clubhouse?” She asked.

I brought her attention to Jerome who was standing by the bar drinking and watching the events near us unfolding. “My guy's over there. Do I have anything to be afraid of?”

Her eyes opened wide. “You don't know bikers, do you?”

I guess I didn't. My only experience with this club was the biker who lived across from me as a kid. Though that was so long ago.

With a cheer the celebrating outlaws lifted the kid up, his pants and underwear still hanging from his ankles, and paraded him in the air past the both of us.

“What do they have in store for him next?” I asked.

“Too terrible for your little ears, darling.” She took a sip of her blue cocktail. “But what any man who wants to be a full patched member of the club has to do.”

Before I could formulate any reply, my eyes caught what looked like a white glow moving in between the darkness behind her. Though quickly my eyes adjusted and I realized it was skin. White, pale skin. The person's paleness was in such contrast to the coarse sunburned faces, leather and blackness of the clubhouse. Like someone who existed in another world he came into view, his medium length blonde hair framing defined features and handsome features. He stopped next to us. Standing tall, athletic and confident he towered over the pair of us. His blue eyes locked onto me.

“Anton and Tiny are looking for you. They went out back. I think your business is here,” Blanche shouted over the music to him.

“Cassie?” he spoke, ignoring her words and stepping towards me. “Long time.”

I tried to focus on him. With the excitement of the party combined with me not wearing my contacts, let alone my glasses, it was hard to make him out. Then, like a lighting bolt, my mind pieced the shapes of his face together. Or, should I say, my memory did. He was older than when I last saw him, but his face was one I could never forget. “Boyd?”

“Yeah.” He tapped me on the shoulder.

“Is it really you?”

He took a swig beer.

“You two know each other?” Blanche asked surprised. “You know... Boyd?”

My gaze didn't leave him, “Yeah...”

Those eyes of his were the same as the kid I knew. I instantly felt like a little girl all over again.

~ Chapter Four ~

“Yeah... Us two grew up together,” Boyd's eyes left mine for the first time since he came into view. “Just down the road. This one here's local. You could say we were---”

Blanche bit her lip fighting back her urgent need to speak, “Let me guess, first loves? Some of us have a sixth sense.”

My cheeks turned red. Suddenly I felt all shy, which is not me at all.

“You got gypsy in you, you know what? Something like that.” He laughed and asked me, “How you been princess?”

The air in my chest grew tight.
He remembered the nickname he used to call me
. Fuck, probably no one else on the planet still remembered that bit of knowledge. Those days were so long ago.

“It's been...” Then my past sledgehammered into me and my lips closed shut. Tightly shut.

How could I begin? Tell Boyd that my last memory of him was him being torn from me? Reveal that my parents were smashed to bits in a high speed collision soon after? Say I ran away from my shitty aunt and became a stripper? That I'm in an abusive relationship with a drug dealing boyfriend? I stalled. I didn't, couldn't, say anything. There was nothing I wanted to reveal about my present. “Great... It's been great.”

Boyd's eyes worked down my body. He took my hand drawing me in close, “These years have been good to you.”

My hand tightly gripped the bottle of beer I held.

And certainly they had been good to him. He might have been wearing the leather and jeans of next to everyone in here, but he wore them well. Filling out his white t-shirt with wide shoulders and his jeans running down muscular thighs. He looked a lot the same, though the tattoos running up each forearm made his adulthood clear. I couldn't get a good look, but I think one was a quote that read, '
the scene of vanquished enemies
'.

Though we wouldn't be able to talk further that evening...

Abruptly, Anton cut in. “Business has arrived. Want him out back?”

“The dealer from out west?” Boyd responded. “Take him to the meeting room and I'll follow.”

Anton hurriedly cut through the bustle of the crowd and disappeared.

Boyd pulled me in closer. “Princess, I've got some business. Stay right here. I'll be back soon. Look after her, Blanche?”

“Sure. She'll be fine with me,” she, like a big older sister, replied.

Then I noticed. The big patch on his jacked that said president.

“Wait...
You're
president?” I tugged at his leather jacket bringing the patch close. “I can't believe it! Boyd - not only a biker, but now the president? Wow. I'm impressed.” I lightly punched his chest like I used to when we were kids.

“Yeah... Long story.
Too fucking long
...” He spoke with the experience and wisdom of years. “Now stay here pretty. I won't be long.”

Then, as soon as he'd appeared, he disappeared into the shadow of the party.

“Yeah!” An excited biker roared next to me while holding up the battered prospect. “Get the kid another drink! He's got four more girls yet!”

Struggling to cheer along the prospect raised a fist. The energy expended was enough to have him nearly tumbling over.

Now I could see exactly what Blanche meant.

By the time I glanced back to where Boyd stood there was no trace of him. If you told me it was a dream, I would have believed you. It was hard to believe the tall, muscular man who just left me was the same boy I grew up with so long ago. His appearance left me reeling. Almost as if my past and present became one.

Blanche pulled me in close clearly curious by our relationship. “You haven't seen each other in years?”

“No. Not for... well
forever
.”

She quickly spoke, “Your guy. He a member of one of the MC's out west?”

“What?” Her question took me aback, tossing me out of my head. “Oh... Oh no. Not at all.”

“Good. Boyd couldn't make a move if he was...”

“What do---”

But she cut me off, “I do have gypsy blood, you know? I can foretell these things...”