Sons of Mayhem 1: Oil and Leather
Read Sons of Mayhem 1: Oil and Leather Online
Authors: Nikki Pink
Sons of Mayhem 1: Oil and Leather
Sons of Mayhem (Hot New Adult Romance), Volume 1
By Nikki Pink
Published by Nikki Pink, 2013
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
SONS OF MAYHEM 1: OIL AND LEATHER
First edition. September 11, 2013.
Copyright © 2013
Nikki Pink.
Written by
Nikki Pink.
I was awoken by the sound of helicopters, sirens and shouts outside my dorm room window. With fists rubbing my bleary eyes and adrenaline pumping through my veins I hopped out of my top bunk and went over to the window to see what was causing the mayhem.
Peering down to the road outside I saw
there weren’t actually any helicopters after all. But there were about a dozen deafening motorcycles and two campus police cars. I could see the cops yelling incoherently, but they were like mime artists completely drowned out by the roars of the massive motorcycles. The bikers appeared to be laughing at the wild gesticulations of the campus police.
I watched on in bemusement as a girl in a tiny pair of shorts hopped off the back of a motorcycle. She pressed her face up against the face of the bearded rider, who nonchalantly slipped a hand under her shirt and appeared to give
one of her breasts a squeeze.
The blond haired girl placed a hand on his crotch, returning the squeeze, before heading towards the dorm. As she turned m
y way I sucked in air in a gasp and then chuckled. It was Lucy. My roommate. My wild you’ll-never-guess-what-she-got-up-to-last-night roommate.
The lead biker stuck a gloved fist in the air and then made a circling motion
with an extended finger. A moment later the bikes roared away from the building leaving the two campus rent-a-cops in an impotent rage.
I pulled on my favorite gray sweat pants and sat on our small sofa while I waited for Lucy to make her way up to the second floor.
A minute later I heard her key jabbing at the door. One, two, three times I heard her stab at the lock before she finally got the key home. The door burst open and a moment later the beautiful yet disheveled Lucy burst through the door.
I wrinkled my nose as she stumbled in and collapsed onto the couch. She smelled almost like a frat party; the only difference being she smelled of cheap whisky instead of cheap beer. She dropped her head onto my lap. “I just had the best night. You would
not
believe it.”
I looked down at her formerly made up face. Now mascara was smeared around her eyes, her lipstick was almost completely gone and I could see the yellowish hints of bruises on her shoulders peeking out from her too tight
t-shirt. “What the hell Lucy?”
If that’s what you look like after a good night, I’d hate to see you after a bad one.
“I was with the Sons of Mayhem
. It was
un
-fucking-
believable
.” Her eyes were closed now and I could tell she was about to pass out. I wanted to get her onto her bed before she did. But more than that, I wanted to hear just what in the hell she’d gotten up to last night.
This semester I’d found myself in a rut. Every day was the same ole’ same ole’. Even my boyfriend was boring. More and more I’d found myself living vicariously through Lucy,
jealous of not just the fun she had, but the fact that she actually seemed to be
living
life, not just floating on through it.
“I thought you went out with Jamie last night?” I said.
“Oh him? Yeah. Was that only last night? Well he’s a loser. We broke up. Then I met the Sons… actually they just dropped me off.”
“Yeah. I heard them.”
“Oh you could hear them up here?” Lucy sounded surprised. Or maybe it was fake surprised. Or maybe she was just too drunk to make any sense.
“Of course I heard them! You could hear them two counties away. You had the donut patrol’s sirens going too. You made a pretty big scene, you know.”
She giggled, her head shaking up and down on my lap as she did so. “Did you see them? They’re cool aren’t they?”
“I saw one of them molesting you out the window.” I thought back to seeing the biker slip his hand up her shirt, in front of the gang and the campus cops. I shivered slightly. I kind of wished it had been me. It’d been too long
since someone had made me feel attractive. Not that I wanted to be groped in front of an audience, but still, to be grabbed by someone who found me attractive. That’d be something.
Lucy giggled again. She seemed to find me hilarious. Probably because she was
still drunk. “If that’s being molested then molest me every damn day.” She slapped her thigh and shrieked as if she thought it was the funniest thing in the world. It was kind of funny though. I let out a little laugh too.
“So are you like dating that guy who grabbed your tit? Or what?” I was intensely curious now as to what exactly her relationship was with these guys.
“What Brodie? Oh no. He just gave me a ride back. I was partying with a couple of the other guys last night.” My head spun. What
had
she gotten up to last night?
“So are you like… y’know…” I wasn’t quite sure what I wanted to ask next.
“Y’know what?” her eyes were beginning to flicker again. I could see she was fading.
“Are you like joining their gang or something?”
Her eyes opened wide again. Apparently I’d said something ridiculous. “Joining their gang? I’m a
girl
, doofus.”
“So what?” I asked
, truthfully. I knew nothing about them. In fact peering out of our second floor dorm window as they dropped Lucy off was the closest I’d ever been to a motorcycle gang.
Her tone was more serious now. It was the most focused I’d seen her that morning.
“Only guys can join the actual club. But, there are too kinds of female club associates,”
associates? That’s a big word for a drunk girl at 6am
, “there’s party chicks, and old ladies.”
“Party chicks and old ladies? Please tell me you’re not an old lady.” I laughed, causing Lucy to grin too.
“Ha ha. Anyway I could be. I mean, I couldn’t, but I could be. If you see what I mean.”
“Nope.” She probably thought she was
making sense.
“I mean, an old lady is like a serious girlfriend, or a wife. It means you belong to just one guy. I’m
going to be a party chick though. As soon as I’m inis--” She stumbled on her words, “inishishiated. Initiated. I mean. As soon as I’m inished. Initiated.”
“Uhuh.” I nodded.
“So what’s that? What’s a party chick?” I was intrigued now.
“A party chick means you can like…” she thought for a second, “party with them. Like, hang out with them in their clubhouse and
, you know, party.”
“You keep saying ‘party’. You mean like those lame ass frat parties you kept dragging me to last semester?” I had a feeling she meant something different. A more interesting kind of party.
She laughed again. “No, they party way, way harder. Those frat boys are kids. These guys’ parties are a lot more. Ummm…”
I tried to control my voice. I was excited by the idea of these
real men
partying. “A lot more what?” I didn’t want to sound too interested. Even though I was.
“Adult.”
“Adult?” My breath was a little more shallow than before. I wanted her to tell me more, tell me exactly what she got up to. With the state she was in I could tell she hadn’t just been dancing, she’d clearly been doing something
much
more interesting.
“Alright. Well s
ince I’m drunk I’ll tell you. Okay?” She didn’t wait for a response. “Those guys… and the party chicks… they’re wild. I mean, really wild. I saw a girl get ini—I saw a girl become a party chick last night. Guess what I saw her do?”
God it sounded exciting. I’d spent the early part of my evening with my limp dicked, possibly gay boyfriend before going back to our room alone and unfulfilled. I wanted to hear it all. “What
did you see?” If Lucy had been sober she would have heard the undercurrent of excitement in my voice.
Whenever Lucy came back from one of her wild nights I always got her to tell me about it. Most of my most intense fantasies were based at least somewhat on Lucy’s late night adventures.
“Two guys. I watched this girl get fucked by two guys at once. It was wild! The whole club was cheering them on.” She giggled. I felt myself getting flustered. I wanted to hear more but was too embarrassed to ask.
“Lucy?” I asked with some hesitation.
“Yeah?” she asked, her eyes closed.
“I wish,” I paused before I said it, afraid to even voice what I was thinking, “I wish I could be like you, just for one night. I want to know what it’s like to break loose like
that.” The words tumbled out quickly, and when they did I saw Lucy’s eyes open again, appraising me. “Will you take me with you next time?”
Lucy looked into my eyes with some concern. “Are you
sure
you want to do this? I mean, they’re pretty rough guys. I know you thought the
frat boys
,” she said those last two words with some derision, “were rough. These guys would eat them for breakfast.”
“I told you. Yes.” Upon waking later that
previous weekend she’d been shocked that I, the straight A student, wanted to party with the bikers. But she didn’t know me that well.
I
didn’t even know me that well.
Throughout the following week I’d been assuring her that yes, I really did want to hang out with them. Once at least.
She looked at me again, frowning. “Did you tell Mark?”
“No! I told you. We broke up. It’s none of his business.” It was true, we’d broken up the night before. I think it must have been that final humiliating ending to my doomed relationship that really pushed me to actually join Lucy. Although I’d told her I wanted to go with her, I probably would have backed out if it hadn’t ended like
that
.
We were walking to
the back gate of the campus. Sober Lucy was much more sensible than drunk Lucy and, quite rightly, she was worried about having the bikers come up to the dorm again. We drew looks from both guys and girls as we headed down the footpath in the late afternoon sunlight. We looked, in a word,
slutty.
And for once in my life, I was embracing it.
Despite only having learned about being a party girl for one night, Lucy apparently knew all about their fashion sense (or lack thereof.)
That afternoon Lucy had taken a pair of scissors to my shortest pair of jean shorts and not just made them shorter, but cut slits and holes in them too. Looking in the mirror I’d gulped as I saw the flashes of thigh and ass visible through the ruined (
improved,
she’d insisted) fabric.
Lucy ha
d also slashed away at least half of my t-shirt leaving a great swathe of my midriff bare. When she was done with my outfit there was more of my clothing in the trash than there was on my body.
I had to admit though, we looked
good
. Not
good
like the minister’s son would take home to meet mother, but
good
like a horny alpha male would fuck until he made you cry tears of ecstasy.
“Oh shit,
” I whispered urgently. On the other side of the path was my recently dumped boyfriend, Mark. Desperately not wanting to talk to him in my current state of (un)dress, I turned my head to the side so my hair hid my face, and pretended to be interested in the trees off the side of the path, hoping he wouldn’t recognize me. Strangely, it worked.
“Seriously, he must be gay.” Lucy announced after he’d gone by without giving us a second glance.
“You really think so?” I asked
“How could he
not
be? Every other guy has been eye-fucking us as they’ve gone past. He didn’t even notice us. He didn’t even notice
you
, and you’re supposed to be his girlfriend.”
“Ex-girlfriend.”
She had a point though. And I’d had my suspicions too. Lucy’s pronouncement relieved what little guilt I’d had about us going out with the bikers.
We got to the back gate and stood on the curb waiting. It wasn’t long before we heard the distant
thunder of motorcycles, their rumble reaching us at least half a minute before they trundled in to view.
“You know, I’m glad you’re coming with me this time. It’ll be good to have a friend with me.” Lucy smiled at me. I smiled back. While my face was happy, inside my stomach was turning flips. I’d never been on a ‘date’ like this. Not that it was a date, of course. I’d basically agreed to go meet
a bunch of horny bikers. I’d probably have sex with one of them. At least, that’s what I’d been fantasizing about every evening for the last week.
Holy shit.
It struck me.
I am literally going to get on the back of a motorcycle in order to go get fucked by bikers. What’s wrong with me?
As the realization began to sink in, my dreamy fantasy began to solidify into a more practical reality. A much scarier and substantially less glamorous reality.
I was about to tell Lucy I wasn’t going to go through with it, that I’d go back to our dorm and eat ice cream with my best friend, my laptop. But then the bikes pulled into view. It was too late to leave in any dignified kind of manner, and I wasn’t used to running in the tall fuck-me boots Lucy had insisted I wear.
I bit my lip nervously as they approached.
How can I get out of this?
To my relief there were just two of them this time, unlike the whole gang I’d seen out of the window the previous weekend. They were both on highly polished cruiser style motorcycles. Harley’s I assumed, but I wouldn’t know a Harley from a Fisher Price if truth be told.
The guy in front had dirty blond hair
hanging beneath the metal helmet that sat on top of his head. Even with his padded leather jacket and gloves I could tell there was a solid man underneath; not fat, and not a giant, but solid like a guy who’s been doing manual labor his whole life.
“Ladies.” He lifted his chin in a half-nod
and raised the four fingers of his left hand up from the motorcycle handle in a greeting. I smiled to try and appear confident.
“What’s up.” The second rider had just pulled up. This guy was big in all senses of the word. He had a full beard which hung down to a chest that appeared to be as wide as the handles on his motorcycle.
Lucy leaned in to whisper into my ear. “Looks like you got Jase! He’s the VP!” I didn’t know what that was supposed to mean, but before I could clarify she was running towards the man mountain. “Brodie!” she shouted with glee.
“Juicy!”
he roared. As Lucy approached he extended his arms and grabbed her around the waist. He lifted her up and dropped her astride his crotch, their faces immediately pressing together.
I looked on wide eyed, not knowing what to do. “Don’t mind them.”
The other biker extended a gloved hand. “Jase.” I stared at it like an idiot. He grinned. “Come on, I don’t bite,” he said and I stepped towards him. “Usually,” he said as he grasped my hand.
Stepping
in I smelled the strong scents of leather and oil, competing and combining with each other. I involuntarily licked my lips. He smiled at me again and with a flash of his white teeth I felt myself quiver.
What’s wrong with me?
Usually I’m cool and confident with men, perhaps even aloof. But now I was quaking like a school girl again.
That smell…
I breathed in deeply as he shook my hand. I could hear the slurping sound of furious kissing coming from the other motorcycle
and didn’t dare turn to look. Thoughts of heading back to the dorm had mysteriously fled from my mind. Instead I found myself looking into Jase’s cool blue eyes and looking at his plump lips. I imagined what it’d be like to kiss them, to bite them, to have his strong arms wrapped around me…
My daydreaming was interrupted when he spoke again. “Are you okay?”
How long was I staring? He must think I’m an idiot. “Oh sorry. Uh yeah.” Can’t you say anything better than that?
He ra
ised his eyebrows at me and lifted my hand, reminding me that it was still clasped in his. “Gotta’ name?”
Idiot.
I mentally slapped myself. I tried to smile confidently. “Nicole, or Nikki.”
“Nicole? I like it. Wanta’ ride?” He patted the seat behind him.
“Sure.” I tried to sound nonchalant, but in truth I was somewhere between terrified and excited. Giddy, I decided to get on the back of the motorcycle. I saw a peg on the side of the bike I could use to help me get up there. I stepped on it and tried to climb up and swing my leg over, resting my hands on the seat. Unfortunately, not knowing what the hell I was doing I found my hand slipping when I put my weight on it, and a moment later my head crashed into his leather-clad back.
I heard him laugh and a split-second later he had a strong arm wrapped around me pulling me up behind him.
I shortly found myself pressed up against him, the strong sexy scent of smoky leather making me heady. “Are you okay?” he asked.
I sensed kindness in his voice. A rough kindness to be sure, but kindness nonetheless. “I’m great!”
I turned my head and watched as Brodie, in one skillful move, wrapped one hand around Lucy’s waist and swung her around to sit behind him. She peeked at me from around his shoulder, her eyes wild and her face beaming. Her lipstick was already smeared across her face and she looked like there was no way she could care any less.
Jase reached behind me and unclipped a spare helmet that had been fastened to the back of the passenger seat. “Put it on.”
As soon as I’d adjusted the chinstrap and clicked the helmet securely on to my head Jase pressed the starter button on his bike and it surged to life. “Let’s ride!” he yelled over his shoulder at me. I didn’t even bother to try and respond vocally, the bike’s roar would have drowned out anything I said. I just nodded my head, smiled, and wrapped my arms around his waist. My hands clutched the front of his jacket tightly to make sure I didn’t fall off. He turned and gave me a funny look before facing forward again.
I heard the other bike start up behind me. A moment later Jase raised a clench
ed fist into the air and we were off. I sucked in air sharply and pressed my thighs tight against the bike. Vibrations poured through my body and I found myself grinning manically, seeming to have lost control of my facial muscles.
Holy shit!
I was gasping and laughing to myself as we flew down the road, m
y nails digging into the leather jacket, feeling his solid torso underneath. I heard the other bike pull up alongside and looked over.
Lucy looked amazing on the back of the bike. With her bare calves and thighs leading up to her tiny shorts she looked every inch a biker’s babe.
I wonder if I look as good as I her? I bet I do.
As I was admiring her I realized why Jase had given me a funny look. While Lucy was looking relaxed on the back of the bike with her hands resting on the seat, I had my hands wrapped tightly against Jase as if I’d fall off at any moment.
Oh shit I must seem like such an amateur. I began to release my tight grip on his jacket but then I bounced up as we hit a minor pothole. Fuck it. I don’t care if I look stupid. It feels good hugging him like this anyway.
I continued to keep my arms wrapped around him, but I released the death
-grip my right hand had on the thick leather. As the bike rumbled between my legs I found myself flattening my right hand out, and running it over his padded chest.
God he feels good.
The tight grip my thighs had around the bike was causing all the vibrations to pour up through my body. I could feel every pulse of the engine below me transported through
the place my upper thighs met the seat of the bike. I let out an involuntary moan when Jase opened up the throttle sending more powerful vibrations through me.
No wonder some women love motorcycles.
We had been riding about fifteen minutes and had just left the edge of the small college town.
I was enjoying the ride when Jase turned to look over his shoulder, but not at me. He was looking at something else. He signaled urgently to the other motorcycle, his hands speaking a language I didn’t yet know.
We were on a quiet highway now, and when I turned to look over my shoulder I couldn’t see anything wrong. Behind us there was little traffic, just an old
beat-up truck. Then I realized. The truck was going fast. Too fast. It was rapidly gaining on us, and as I watched I saw something that sent a chill running down my spine.
A man leaned out of the truck’s window and he was holding something. I knew what it was immediately. A handgun. I saw it jerk in his
hand but I didn’t hear anything. Jase’s deep voice boomed, “Hold on!” as he opened up the throttle of the bike’s engine. We shot forward and I turned my head away from the truck, burying it in Jase’s jacket.
Oh God oh God oh God.
As we raced forward the wind tore through my hair and across the bare skin of my legs and midriff.
Between my thighs the engine pulsed sending vibrations shooting through me as we accelerated away faster and faster. Adrenaline fired through my veins as we raced away from the truck behind us. The other motorcycle with Lucy pulled up alongside us. Again the two bikers exchanged hand signals meaningful only to them.
Lucy looked at me and gave a tight smile as the wind whipped around her face. She seemed pretty freaked out too. I risked a look back over my shoulder and saw the truck had lost some of its ground. Although it was traveling incredibly fast, our bikes were faster.
Peering over Jase’s shoulder I saw we were approaching a junction. A desolate crossroads with no sign of help. With a
sickening lurch and a roaring of the engine Jase shifted the bike down through the gears and braked, before sending us hurtling off to the left as we exited the junction. As we cornered the bike tipped perilously close to the ground, I thought for sure I’d tumble off. But of course I didn’t, apparently motorcycle physics doesn’t work like that.