Authors: Dakota Knight

Biker Chick (7 page)

BOOK: Biker Chick

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Chapter Nine

And the light would brighten my spirits along the way . . .

Air fused with hope, love, fear, and opportunity swirled around me as I rode my steel to Ray's house. I took the long way, navigating the east side streets so could muster up the strength to face my man. For some reason, sincere apologies were never easy, particularly when I didn't know how Ray would react. I didn't want to go over there and get the door slammed in my face.

There was another possibility I hated to think aboutâthat he had already found someone else. How stalk-ish would I look going to Ray's house to beg for forgiveness and he have some honey by his side? Perish the thought. I had to block all the negative stuff out if I was to have a chance of accomplishing my goal.

How would I do it? I thought up a scenario. He would answer the door and I would say, “
Hey, Ray, I know you didn't expect me to come over here, but I'm so sorry for leaving. I shouldn't have assumed you were doing the wrong thing. I shouldn't have assumed that you disrespected me. I should have waited for you. I should have asked. I should have returned your calls. I've been so stupid! I've missed you over these past few weeks. Our separation has hurt me more than you know. Will you accept my apology?
”

When I turned onto Ray's street, the sound of my heartbeat began to overtake the sound of my Ninja's engine. It thrashed against my ribcage as it seemed to circulate the nervousness coursing through me. His house was the fourth one to my left on Concord Lane. Light illuminated the curtains in Ray's living room window. That was no guarantee he was home, though, because he sometimes left the light on anyway for security.

I parked the Ninja in Ray's driveway and took a few deep breaths before making my way to his doorstep. If he was there and awake, there was no way he wouldn't have heard me ride up. I reached for the doorbell. The moment of truth.

The sound of chimes echoed through the air. I tapped my right foot rapidly, hoping to release some of my tension. Even my hands shook. I waited, with only my nervous energy as company. A minute passed. Then two. Then eternity. I didn't hear footsteps. The knob didn't turn. The door didn't open. My heart sank into the dark regions of my chest. Tears began to well up in my eyes.
Damn
.

Just as I was about to give up, I heard a lock turn. My heart lurched. A light came on, bathing the porch with light. The door opened. I felt a presence, eyes on my back. The tears that I held back fell. I turned around. Ray was in front of me, his broad shoulders filling the doorway. He was wearing a wife beater, which showed off his well-toned arms. His jeans were baggy, held up by a large leather belt. His eyes were hooded, his expression guarded. He didn't speak.

We stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity before I finally got my mouth to move. I clasped my hands together so he wouldn't see them shake. I thought about my speech again. I inhaled deeply and got ready to deliver it. I exhaled and said, “I'm so . . .”

So much for best-laid plans. Before I finished my sentence, the first part of my grand speech, Ray was reaching out for me. He pulled me into his arms. I melted into his warmth as he held me. My body shivered at the strength of his embrace. I felt his hand under my chin, gently lifting my head. His kiss . . . it was gentle at first. He teased my lips with soft kisses, silently asking me to yield to the sweet pressure. I complied, of course, reveling in the electricity that shot through my body as he deepened our kiss with his lips and his tongue.

Our tongues twirled and twisted in an ancient dance. He pulled me even closer, and I felt his arousal. The heat resting in the pit of my stomach and flowing down between my legs let me know I was feeling aroused too. It seemed that at that moment, I wanted him more than I ever had before. I felt weightless as he lifted me off of the ground and carried me across the threshold into his house. I moaned in disappointment as our lips unlocked and he lowered me back to the ground. He closed the door and glared at me. His eyes displayed an expression of passion I had never seen before.

He reached for me again. His kisses were more passionate, his caresses more forced. His fingers seemed to be everywhere at once, making my body tingle with pleasure. And then something came over me . . . over both of us. Our gentle foreplay turned into a ravenous display of lust. I ripped off his beater and he ripped open my jacket. He twirled me around and pushed me up against the door. When my jacket fell to the floor, he reached for my tits, teasing my nipples as he continued kissing me deeply. The sensations were almost too much for me. I dug my fingers into his skin as the warmth began to spread through me. Ray ravaged my neck, my tits, my stomach, devouring me with his lips and tongue. I couldn't do anything but enjoy what he was doing to me . . . showing me what a woman should feel like when she's with a man.

I don't know how I ended up naked and on the floor of Ray's foyer. I was so caught up in the pleasure of being led, that nothing else mattered. I yelled out when Ray took one of my nipples into his mouth, squeezing and sucking on it while at the same time, reaching down to rub the heart of me. That was the first time I exploded. But it wouldn't be the last.

As Ray's lips traveled down my stomach, leaving a trail of wet warmth I savored, I trembled with anticipation as his head nestled between my legs and his tongue went to work again. I held on for dear life as Ray tried to take me to another world, moving in and out, sucking and lapping. He didn't let up until I shivered again. The release was exquisite. And there was more in store.

As Ray relaxed to remove the final barriers between us, I stared at him through pleasure-filled eyes. He looked at me too, and our eyes held a conversation expressing apology and regret. I reached for him, ready to help him take his jeans off, but he pushed my hands away. His eyes sent another message: that he was the man, and that he was in control. It was his turn to take the reigns. I let him.

Finally, when we were both bare and heated, he spread my legs and pressed against me. Ray was big and thick, but I was ready, and when he entered me, I couldn't contain my emotion. I yelled out his name as he began to stroke in and out of me. I tried to match his pace, but he overwhelmed me. I gave in to the essence of it all, let him fill me up. He began to move faster, and I thought I would split in half. He shifted me into different positions, but still kept up the pace, making up for all the time we'd been apart.

I could tell when he was ready to let go, to give in to his own pleasure. He began to groan louder, and then he called out my name. And with one final stroke, he began to shiver against me, and I kissed him gently as the waves of his release passed through him.

Afterward, we held each other, our arms and legs intertwined. I didn't want to move even though we were on a hard floor that was growing colder by the minute. I caressed Ray and continued to press my lips against his salt-tinged skin. He pressed against me and I could feel him becoming aroused again. I looked at him and smiled. The night was young. And what else can I say except . . . there aren't many things better in this world than make-up sex!

Chapter Ten

I felt a love that I thought could conquer all . . .

“I think I should give you another name,” Ray said to me a week after we got back together. Things had been wonderful between us. We did talk about the letter. He claimed he didn't know who sent it. I asked him about Trina. He looked me straight in the eyes and said, “That's over and done. Totally over.” I believed him. I had to decide whether to keep digging deeper or to let it go. I finally decided to let the past stay in the past.

“What do you mean I need another name?” I asked as I turned my back toward him so he could clasp my bra.

He chuckled. “When I first met you, I thought you were hard, sly, and slick like a fox. But now . . .” He kissed my left shoulder blade and gave me a playful push.

“Now what?”

“I think you're a butterfly.”

I turned around and glared at him, “A butterfly?”

“Yeah,” he said, grabbing me around my waist and pulling me onto his lap. “My sweet, delicate, wonderful butterfly.”

“Mmmm,” I moaned as he kissed my back. “I've been called many things before, but delicate is not one of them.”

“I doubt you've let anyone else see it.” He added a bit of tongue with his lips, blazing a trial across my heated back. “But I do.”

I felt his arousal and moved away from him. “If you think giving me compliments and getting me all hot and bothered is going to save you from going to this Summer Blast with me . . . well . . .” I flashed a wicked smile and wrapped my hands around his neck. “It'll at least get you a delay.”

The next few minutes were filled with the pleasure only a man could give me, but unfortunately, I couldn't let my passion overtake me. I tore myself from Ray's lips and grabbed his hands to stop his caress.

“You torturing a brotha today,” Ray groaned as I backed away from him.

“I'll make it up to you tonight.” I reached for my Foxy T-shirt and put it on.

“I thought tonight was the makeup for dragging me to the Summer Blast.”

I laughed in response. “Are you saying I have to break out the pussy pass for two nights straight?”

“I thought I had a lifetime membership.”

I smiled and said, “You think a lot, don't you?” I bent down to kiss him deeply before rising up again. “Come on, let's get this over with.”

The Columbus Motorcycle Summer Blast was one of the biggest events of the year for motorcycle clubs around the city and suburbs. I had never gone to one before, but I had heard that it was sort of like a family reunion. The only way I convinced Ray to come with me is because I told him there was going to be barbecue and free drinks.

In any other lifetime, I wouldn't be caught dead at the Blast. Like I said, it was generally for the over-thirty crowd. Through some evil twist of fate, Mrs. Phillips called my bluff and purchased a Fendi bag from me. She asked for it on the day before the last day of class and told me to bring it the following day. She had the cash, and I had the goods. And now I had to mingle with the fogies as they ranted about all that was wrong in the world.

“I bet it won't be that bad,” Ray said, as we headed for our steels in the garage.

“If you say so,” I replied as Ray opened the door for me and I walked through it. I grabbed my helmet off Foxy Baby's seat and prepared to strap it on.

Thankfully, it was a mild day. A day great for riding. I rode beside Ray as we traveled through the streets of Pickerington and headed into Columbus. Since the Blast was held at Franklin Park, we decided to take a straight shot down Broad Street. While stopped at a red light at the Broad and James Road, I couldn't help but look right, toward the location of the Heights and the Meadows, which were located about a half mile from the intersection. For a second, I thought about taking a turn and getting my girls, but then I turned my head left and looked at my man. He was eyeing me through his helmet. I had all the company I needed.

A couple minutes later, after we passed through the ultra-rich Bexley neighborhood full of old mansions and well-manicured lawns, the sound of thunder let me know we were about to arrive. All of a sudden, a swarm of steels surrounded us. A surge of energy coursed through me. Despite my earlier reservations, I began to get excited. I nodded at folks and waved when I could.

As we rode into Franklin Park, my eyes widened at the number of steels parked along the paved paths and in the park's lots. The riders at the Blast were no joke. Not only did I see the typical steels, but there were also Big Dogs, Choppers, and Three-wheelers. There were models I never laid eyes on before.

It was so packed that Ray and I had to squeeze our steels among the masses on the lot farthest from Broad Street. I took off my helmet and stared at my surroundings with wide eyes and wonder.

“Damn, I ain't never seen nothing like this,” I told Ray as he pulled off his helmet and stood beside me.

“You right, Ma,” Ray replied. “I didn't think they'd have anything like this in Columbus.”

He went back to his steel and strapped his helmet on it.

“You think that'll be okay?” I asked.

“Ma, please,” he said, looking around, “Ain't nobody going to steal your helmet. Just strap it and let's go.”

After I unloaded my helmet, we walked up to the first wave of the crowd. As we walked through the sea of people, several people nodded and others actually said hello. Some of them stared at my silver hair. It was typical and didn't really bother me. As the crowd thickened, Ray took my hand and pulled me closer to him.

“How long did you say we were staying?” he asked.

“I don't know. I promised Mrs. Phillips I would come, and I came. I know she's probably going to ask my mom if I came, so know I can say I did and even if we only stay twenty minutes, I'll be telling the truth.” I looked toward a gathering of park benches and grills. “We should at least get some free food before we leave.”

Ray sniffed loudly, raising his nose toward the line of steaming grills. “Yeah, we can do that,” he responded, before laughing.

I laughed too.

The old school music was blasting. People were drinking and playing cards and dominos. People represented their clubs with all manner of T-shirts, leather jackets, and outfits.

“I thought we were the only ones that partied like this,” I told Ray as we stood in line, waiting for our chance to sample the ribs.

“I know,” he agreed. “People reppin' like they in gangs or something.”

“Right. We do it, and we're troublemakers. They do it, and it's a BLAST!”

I laughed out loud but closed my mouth when I saw several ladies, wearing pink shirts with “Diva Ryders” spelled out in black letters spread out across their chests, frowning at me in disapproval. If they hadn't looked like they hung out with my mom, I would have said something to them. Instead, I turned my attention toward Ray.

“I feel like I'm in a nightmare school with a classroom full of teachers,” I whispered in his ear.

Ray looked at me and grinned. “You need to behave,
Cristal,
or I'm going to start thinking I can't take you out anywhere.”

“Is that a threat?” I asked playfully.

“You mean, like when you tell me you're revoking my pass?” he asked.

“Now you're being naughty.”

“Always.”

Ray piled up his plate with ribs, pork and beans, mac and cheese, and bread.

“Who all are you trying to feed?” I asked him as I filled my own plate.

“I need some energy for later on,” he replied, giving me a lust-filled look that I understood perfectly.

“And you're telling me to behave,” I said playfully.

Just as we were about to sit down, I saw something that almost made me drop my plate. I gasped and shook my head, my eyes unwilling to believe what was walking toward me. Mrs. Phillips, my prim and proper English teacher, was decked out in tight dark jeans and a tight black top. Her glasses had disappeared and her hair was a short mass of tightly-wound cute curls. She even had makeup on.

“Oh my God!” I yelled out, unable to contain my surprise. “Mrs. Phillips!”

She smiled brightly and continued walking toward us. “Honey, it's me. And you can call me Judy now. You're not in school anymore.”

I couldn't move.

“That's your teacher?” Ray asked.

I nodded.

“Damn, I need to go back to high school,” he said.

My state of shock didn't allow me to give him the punch he deserved. Instead, I kept standing there, handling a plate full of food and probably looking like a true fool with my mouth wide open.

“Well, honey, what have you got to say?” Mrs. Phillips asked as she put her hands on her hips.

“What you doing here?” I asked softly. It was the only thing I could think of to say.

“Now what kind of question is that? Obviously I'm here to be a part of the Summer Blast.”

I stared down at her chest. She wasn't lacking in the titty department, but of course, that wasn't what I was looking at. I read the words on her shirt. First, there were large blue airbrushed letters that read L ROCS. Underneath that were blue silvery words spelled in cursiveâLady Riders of Columbus South.

I shook my head again. “Oh hecky no. Don't tell me you're in a . . .”

Mrs. Phillips raised up her right hand. “Oh please, Crystal, you should have known that when I asked you to come.” She looked past me and frowned. “So, what's your friend's name?”

I turned around. Ray, unable to wait another minute for introductions, had sat down at the table and his attention was focused on the food on his plate.

I smiled and said. “That's my man. Ray.”

“Hmmm. So, what do you think about the Blast?” she asked.

I shrugged my shoulders. “We just got here. We were going to eat and . . .” I paused. I didn't want to tell her we were going to do an Eat and Run. “We wanted to get some food before we looked around at everything.”

Mrs. Phillips frowned again before leaning over and looking in Ray's direction again. “Why don't you put that plate down a minute so we can talk,” she said seriously.

“Talk about what?” I asked, matching her tone.

“Crystal, I need a minute, okay?” Now she sounded like the teacher I knew and, some of the time, loathed.

She didn't look like she was going to take âno' for an answer. “Wait a sec,” I told her before heading to the table where Ray was eating.

“What . . . yo . . . 'bout . . . do?” Ray asked with a rib-filled mouth.

“Mrs. Phillips is trippin' as usual,” I replied. “I'll be right back.”

“Ummm. Hmmm.” Ray nodded as he chewed.

I rejoined Mrs. Phillips. “I'm going to kill Mom when I see her. Did she know you ride?” I asked, as we began walking through the crowd.

“Sure. I've been riding for a long time.”

She quickened her pace and I followed. “Why didn't you tell me you ROC'ed?” I asked.

“Why should I have?” was her reply. “Plus, I don't think you'd have come if you knew I rode.”

“That's not true,” I said. “It don't matter to me if you ride or not. I'm just surprised.”

“Why is that? Because I'm a teacher?”

I thought about it for a minute. “Yeah, I guess so,” I admitted.

When we reached the edge of the park, near its large glass conservatory, the crowd began to thin out. “Where are we going?” I asked.

Mrs. Phillips stopped in front of two wooden park benches. “I thought you were going to come alone,” she said.

“I don't know why you thought that.”

“Well, I knew those two girls you were always with at school didn't ride and . . .”

“Dymond and Lala? Best believe, if Ray wasn't here, I would have found a way to drag them here.”

Mrs. Phillips sighed. “I wanted you to see what it would be like to be a part of a group. I wanted you to meet the members of my club, chat with us a bit.”

Now it was my turn to frown. “You what? How was I supposed to know you'd be here? I thought maybe you wanted me to see some new steels or something. Not hang out with a bunch of folks I don't even know.”

“I understand. Maybe I just didn't think it through,” her tone was serious. “But I need to ask you something.”

“What?”

“Ray, your . . . boyfriend, he's not in a gang, is he?”

BOOK: Biker Chick

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