Hunter - Big Girls & Bad Boys (23 page)

I decided to get racy with my outfit. I wanted to make sure Dutch wouldn’t leave me hanging. I wore red heels and a black skirt that was very short over a pair of tan pantyhose. I figured they might come in handy later that night if the previous adventure with Dutch was any indication and they’d help keep my legs warm on his bike. I still had Sheila’s leather jacket so I wore that over a white cotton cami that barely contained my pendulous breasts. I pushed the thoughts out of my head that it was too sexy and I was too fat to wear it. Dutch would love it and that’s all that mattered.

Dutch picked me up and he was dressed as usual except his t-shirt was missing the naked biker chick. “Where’s your girlfriend?” I asked as I ran my finger over his chest playfully. Dutch turned around, lifted his jacket and on the back of his black t-shirt, two half naked girls were embracing suggestively lying on a bike. “Nice,” I said and giggled.

“Miss me?” Dutch asked.

“Desperately,” I said.

“Good. You look hot,” he said and I blushed. “Let’s go,” he told me and led me out to his bike with his hand on the small of my back. I realized something as I lay awake contemplating the events of the previous night. Dutch and that other biker looked a lot alike. At first glance, they seemed as if they were cut from the same cloth but they weren’t. That guy was an idiot, a brutish asshole that treated women like dirt. It was all about him.

Dutch, on the other hand, was an intelligent, thoughtful guy. He may have preferred his women, like me, curvy and submissive but he treated me with respect. At no time did I ever feel threatened with Dutch, even when he tied me up with my own pantyhose and screwed me in the ass. Everything he did was as much about me as it was about him. I still liked the way that other guy, and a lot of the guys Sheila and I turned away the night before, looked at me but only Dutch made me feel special.

We met Locke and Sheila for dinner, steaks and beers, at a casual steakhouse. Sheila apologized again when she had the chance. “I really am sorry. I go too far sometimes and...well, I never meant to do anything to put you in danger.”

“Stop it. You didn’t know he was a creep. I like it when you get me in trouble...usually,” I said. She smiled.

“Did you say anything to Dutch?” she asked.

“No, I figured it was best. Nothing happened and it would only upset him,” I told her.

“This time, I agree,” she said. We had a nice dinner, a few beers and then we headed to the usual spot, the run down bar called “The Oasis.” The same place I met Sheila and Locke, the same place we did body shots and the same place where I began to fall for Dutch. We found a table and ordered a round of beers and cinnamon whiskey. Before dinner, I might not have been able to tolerate it but now it sounded good. Sheila told me the night we met in that very bar that she liked to get a little fucked up and take her husband home so he could have his way with her. I was beginning to enjoy that too.

We drank, talked and at one point, Dutch reached over subtly and began stroking my pussy through my pantyhose under the table. I was so horny after the last time we had sex and it was hard not to react. I fought the urge to squirm for almost fifteen minutes before Sheila rescued me.

“Dutch, if you don’t mind taking your hand from between Shauna’s legs, I’m wondering if she needs to use the little girl’s room,” she said and I blushed shamelessly. Locke and Dutch both laughed.

“Yeah, I could do that,” Dutch said. I stood, pulled my skirt down and as I joined Sheila, Dutch smacked my ass. I turned and glared at him.

“You’re driving me crazy, you know that?” I asked him. He laughed and nodded. Oh yeah, he knew it. Sheila and I walked to the restroom and when we were alone, I asked, “How long did you know he was doing that?”

“The entire time. It was quite erotic watching you,” she said. I blushed again.

“What are you and Dutch doing to me?” I said and shook my head. Sheila laughed.

“Oh, I think you like it,” she replied.

“I do,” I told her. We went about relieving ourselves and checking our hair and makeup. I waited for Sheila to finish up when we heard a loud ruckus from the main bar. We went to see what was going on and found Dutch holding his arm as blood dripped from it. Locke was behind him. I rushed to his side to find out what had happened when Dutch threw up a hand and Sheila and I stopped short. There stood the biker we had teased the night before, the one that cornered me in the alley and that I left lying on the ground howling in pain.

“You fucking cunt!” he shouted as he saw me. I went pale and Sheila stood in front of me protectively. “You bitches think you can fuck with me and get away with it?” he asked and showed us the knife covered in Dutch’s blood. Sheila gasped, but I screamed. A couple of bikers that we knew started to make a move, but the guy with the knife turned and swung at them. “This is between me and the fat bitch’s old man.”

“No, Dutch!” I called out. He looked at me and he didn’t look frightened in the least.

“Trust me,” was all he said as he moved between the biker and me. “I’m unarmed. Come get me,” Dutch said as he held his hands in the air. The biker’s scowl turned into a menacing grin and he feinted towards Dutch. I gasped as Locke pushed Sheila and I back and then went to the bar and whispered in the bartender’s ear. Dutch stood his ground. Oh my God, this guy was going to kill Dutch and it would be all my fault.

Why did I kiss him? Why did I tease him along with Sheila last night? I was playing with fire and now Dutch was going to get burned. The big biker suddenly lunged and I shrieked but somehow Dutch evaded the knife. As the bigger man went flying past, Dutch slammed his fist into the man’s ribs. The biker kept going and crashed into the table we were sitting at. The big man scrambled to his feet, his eyes wild and his face red.

“I’m going to gut you little man and then I’m going to take that fat bitch out back and teach her a lesson,” he seethed and launched his big frame at Dutch. This time Dutch wasn’t quite so accommodating. He grabbed the man’s wrist as he stabbed with the knife and Dutch’s other elbow came down and snapped the bigger man’s arm in two. However, Dutch wasn’t done. He immediately spun around before the big biker had even begun to cry out in agony, trapping the broken arm against his body. Dutch had his back to the man and threw three quick elbows to the man’s face.

Dutch let him go and turned to face him. The man whimpered and crumpled to the floor. The knife fell from the biker’s hand and Dutch kicked it away. I ran to Dutch, threw my arms around his neck and kissed him. I was sure the bigger man would make good on his promise to kill Dutch but he never stood a chance. I backed away as Sheila brought a towel. I helped wrap it around Dutch’s arm. He was cut but not badly, though it bled as if he was.

Moments later, we heard sirens and soon sheriff’s deputies burst into the bar. After some initial confusion, the deputies hauled the big biker away in cuffs, still groggy and bloody. We spent the next hour telling the deputies what happened and filling out reports. Dutch found me sitting in the corner sulking once he was finished.

“What’s the matter?” he asked.

“I almost got you killed?” I said. He looked at me suspiciously.

“Why, because you kissed him last week? He’s obviously nuts,” Dutch said. I began to cry and as I did, I told him what happened the night before, every detail. Dutch nodded and I was sure he’d be angry. When I finished he sat quiet for a moment.

“So did you and Sheila make good on that?” he asked and I looked up at him and wiped away a tear, confused. “The idea of you two doing it is kind of hot,” he finished and I knew he meant what we had told the biker about Sheila and I making love to one another. I giggled despite myself. Then I hit him.

“It’s not funny,” I said. Dutch took my hand.

“Shit happens. You didn’t know he was crazy. Look, I know all of this is probably a little overwhelming. I know you’re scared sometimes even if you’re having the time of your life. I mean, it’s not like I get in knife fights every night but when you live on the edge, sometimes things get intense. But just remember one thing. I’m your daddy. I won’t ever let anything happen to you. I’ve never wanted a woman like I want you and I’m not going to let you go,” he said.

I began to cry all over again. “Really?” I asked.

“Really. I may not be the most expressive man you’ll ever meet, but when I say something, I mean it. You’re my girl and it’s going to take a hell of a lot more than some drunk, crazy guy to change that,” Dutch replied. He held me and it felt so good. That’s all I wanted to hear, that I was his girl, the only one he wanted. “You want a drink?” he asked after a moment.

“Most definitely!” I replied. We walked over to join Locke and Sheila and we found a table. It wasn’t difficult. Knife fights and police investigations generally cleared a room. Dutch ordered us all a round of shots, Jack Daniels this time, and beers. We all sipped the whiskey letting it calm our nerves and dull the memory. However, something was nagging at me.

“Dutch, I didn’t know you were a ninja,” I said and he laughed.

“I’m not a ninja. I’m a Marine,” he replied. I knew that Marines were tough but there was more to it.

“I’m not buying it,” I said. Dutch glared at me and then he smiled.

“I don’t like talking about it,” he said but he didn’t seem disturbed as much as embarrassed.

“What your boyfriend is trying to avoid talking about is he’s a badass. He was in Force Recon, basically Special Forces within the Marines,” Locke said. Dutch rolled his eyes and I could tell he was not comfortable. Locke held up his fist and said, “Semper Fi, brother.”

Dutch bumped Locke’s fist with his own and said, “I’ll tell you about it someday. I’m proud of my service. I just don’t like bragging about it.”

“OK, fair enough,” I replied. The more time I spent around Dutch, the more I got the feeling he wasn’t as standoffish as he appeared. I think he was a little shy and reserved. God, was there anything sexier than a bad boy with a soft side? It was still fairly early so we shared a few beers in the nearly empty bar. However, I needed release. The whole scene earlier set me on edge but as that faded, all I could remember was Dutch calmly and quickly kicking that guy’s ass. My pussy was becoming wetter by the moment.

“Daddy, we should go,” I said. Dutch looked at me and when he saw the need in my eyes, he nodded, took my hand and stood.

“Looks like we’re calling it a night,” he told Locke and Sheila.

“Yeah, we’ll have to set the world on fire another time,” Locke replied. Sheila slipped her arm in his and I had the feeling she was going to let Locke have his way with her too. I hugged both of them and we said our goodnights. Minutes later, Dutch and I were flying down the road, but he took a wrong turn. I didn’t say anything figuring he knew what he was doing. We ended up at his shop.

“I thought we could spend the night here for once,” he said as we climbed off his bike.

“Oh...um, OK,” I said. I knew Dutch slept here but he didn’t show me where because I was in such a hurry to leave last time. I pictured him sacked out on an old sofa or on a rickety cot in the corner. Whatever, I didn’t really care at the moment. I just needed to be with him and he could take me on his workbench if he wanted. We went inside, through the office and then up a set of stairs I hadn’t paid much attention to. At the top, we entered a fairly large room.

It wasn’t fancy, but it was cozy. A big bed on one wall, a leather sofa and a flat screen television in the corner, motorcycle collectibles everywhere on the walls and a small kitchenette off to the side. The brick walls gave it a warm feeling and all the black leather, chrome and motorcycle stuff made it scream Dutch. I had no idea. It was a little apartment and I really liked it.

“Surprised?” he asked.

“A little. I like it.” I said. Dutch led me to the bed and I sat on the edge. He went to the bathroom that was off to the side of the room. He came out a few minutes later with a bandage on his arm. “Is it OK?” I asked.

“It’s fine. I wasn’t expecting a knife wielding maniac but I got out of the way, for the most part,” Dutch said. He began to undress as I sat and watched. My God, he was sexy. He wasn’t muscle bound but he wasn’t scrawny either. His muscles were born of hard work, not machines in a gym. His tanned skin with its scant, soft hair begged to be touched. With his shaggy blonde hair and boyish yet rugged features, he could have been an actor. However, it was his blue eyes that made my knees weak and my pussy tingle.