Deadly Sins: An MC Biker Romance (2 page)

"Handle?"

"Yeah. No sex, yet, but I can put you in good shape."

"You’re direct," she mused, and the thought of being handled by him swirled into her already spinning head. "I am tired, and I have two scenes tomorrow. So, failure would not be wise."

"Not an option," he told her.

"Exactly," she nodded, and then added, "Alright. Let me change into some jeans, and a jacket. I got some in here from wardrobe."

"I'll bring you back here, to your car," he assured her.

"By ten?" she asked.

"Perfect," he nodded.

CHAPTER TWO

Roman's bike was a Harley V-Rod, with a custom seat that gave a passenger more than a little pad to sit
on. She knew from her script studies that the little pad was called a p-pad, as in pussy pad, and basically that's all it held too, just the pussy. But his held her ass just fine after she strapped on her helmet, and got on the back.

During her nine-week training session, she was taken out to a race track, and run around the track for several hours, the speed increasing as they trained her to get used to being in a high-speed chase. They ran her much faster than anything would be on the set, but that was the point. She had to be able to think, to act, under the duress. So, when she got to the point where she wasn't clamped to her rider, and screaming at 100mph, they decided she was ready.

The V-Rod was a powerful bike. She could feel it through her thighs, as he roared it down Sunset Blvd, to Santa Monica, and then up the 101, cruising to the coast. He pulled off at the Seaside Wilderness Park, and they walked out to the beach together, him taking her hand like they had been together for years.

There he found a good rock to sit on, bent, swooped her up into his arms, and sat down with her on his lap. They necked for what felt like hours, his hands rubbing and massaging her body, handling her. As advertised, once she relaxed into his full embrace, the frustrations, and tensions of the day, melted off of her in great slides. It did turn her on, her hands on his bare shoulders, and rubbing her breasts against his chest, but it was more relaxing than anything else. In fact, it was more relaxing than anything she had experienced. She just let go, and he took her in, and took everything else, leaving warmth and ease behind.

"Hungry?" he asked.

After this massive session of kissing and being deeply fondled, the question didn't make sense for a moment, and then her stomach let her know it made perfect sense, and the answer was... "Gawd yes."

He smiled, "So, none of that first date starvation dinner, right?"

"Oh, hell no," she laughed. "Put food in front of me, and stand aside big-boy or I might use my scorpion-kick on you."

"That sounds tempting, but not tonight. Let's go," he said, and lifted her easily as he stood, and then set her gracefully on the ground beside him.

"You do that well," she said, skeptically.

"I've done it once or twice," he admitted.

A surprising jolt of jealousy jabbed her gut, but she told it to piss off. He wasn't a virgin. And thank God for that! Her body was feeling well rubbed and fondled. A man didn't find out about a woman's body looking at porn movies, for Christ's sake.If he could, her ex-boyfriend would have been miraculous. However...

He took her back down the road to Ventura Harbor, and to the Rhumb Line restaurant, for oysters, steak, and sea bass.

"You seem to know your way around Los Angeles," she mused as she ate. "How long you been up here?"

He thought about that, "About three weeks I guess. Off and on for the beginning, but now I'm set up in a hotel near the studio."

"Here for the duration?" she asked, hoping the answer was yes, and quailing at the possibility it was no.

"I guess," he shrugged, and then downed an oyster. "I'm paid until the end of filming. With the option of calling me back for editing. Not sure how helpful I'll be with editing, but they have the option, with the payment being enough that I won't argue. But I know L.A. fairly well. I've been up here more than once. Probably three or four times a year, for week or more stays."

"Really? What kind of work do you do that brings you up here so often?" she asked.

He lifted an eyebrow at her, as if that wasn't a polite question.

Laura's mental wheels rolled, clicked, and then popped up with an answer she wasn't sure she liked.

"So, you're a... biker ... outlaw biker," she said quietly, her voice not carrying to other tables, but reaching his ears.

He took another oyster, "I don't have a card or nothing..."

"They... I mean, the studio... they know this?" she asked.

He shrugged, "They asked if I'd done time, like it was a requirement."

"You have?"

"No, I'm not stupid, or rather, haven't been stupid yet," he told her, "That's what I told them too. Is this a problem for you? For us?"

"That you haven't done time? No, not at all," she teased, knowing the real question, but playing for time, while she processed this new view of him.

He let her tease roll off him, seeing it as innocuous as it was. Shucking another oyster, he waited, patient as the grave.

"I deal with fiction, unreality, and strive to make it as real as possible," she started. "As an actress, what you just let me know, puts me in hog heaven. As you pointed out, I take my work very seriously. I do huge amounts of research, probably more than most other actors. I delve. I don't do shallow, or mediocre. As a woman...?"

She took a bite, and processed, "As a woman, I don't know. Yes, is my first instinct, since I want to be honest with you. You've been wonderfully direct with me, so I'm trying to return the favor."

"And I appreciate that," he nodded.

"But if I'm going to be honest, this has been the best first date I've ever had. Once I let go, up at the park, and just let you have me, you really rocked me. And I find talking to you now, being with you, just as relaxing. It's real, and like you pointed out as well, I don't get a lot of real. So, as a woman, I'm greedy for that."

She let that hang between them for a while, "I guess, you are just going to have to take the risk, if you think I'm worth it, that I'm not going to freak on you some day. Hollywood isn't for virgins and innocents, and I've been in this life since I was fifteen. Drugs, sex, exploitation, prostitutes, threats of violence and actual violence, it's all in there. But so far, at the end of the day, I've been able to go home, and keep it outside of my haven."

"Haven? Good word. I like that," he nodded.

"In all the world, that's all I have, and it's the only thing that keeps me sane sometimes. My home, my haven. I don't bring work home with me. I have a very small office I rent, for script reading, and research. At home I'm just Laura, woman. Not Laura, actress."

She smiled, and shook her head with a little laugh, "I even step outside if my agent calls me at home, to keep the taint away."

He smiled, seeming to take this all in, "So, you are concerned that I would be a taint."

She frowned, and then said, "Yes. I'm sorry, but yes. I know that makes me a bitch, but I would really have to get to know you, and even then..."

"A bitch?" he asked.

"Yes, because outside of my home, I want you to do it all again, and keep doing it until we can't do it anymore," she told him.

"Ah. A double standard," he nodded.

"A bitch," she nodded.

"Good enough to fuck, but not good enough to take home to meet...?"

"Minion," she provided.

"Minion?"

"My cat," she nodded, and took a bite of her sea bass. It really was good. "But you did mention a hotel, didn't you?"

"Not tonight though," he told her.

"Yeah, I was hoping you forgot about that," she teased.

"I didn't," he assured her.

She sighed with more strength than necessary. "Well, you are definitely good to your word. I am feeling very relaxed and well ... handled. Thank you."

"I found great pleasure in it," he nodded.

"I hope so, because I'm really hoping you want to do it some more," she said, looking shyly at him.

He swallowed another oyster, and then cut into his steak, which was bloody, just the way he ordered it. She could see him mulling all of this over, and the tension inside of her rose as he churned.

Finally he said, "I have to admit, I've never been presented with the double standard thing before. Most women I meet, are in the places I meet them, looking for exactly what they get. Bars, bike rallies, run camps, etcetera. Granted, a lot of these women are insane, but that's beside the point."

He took a bite of his steak, and then cut in again, "Occasionally, very occasionally, I've hooked up with a woman who is all over me until they discover what is inside the leather. At that point they either cut me off without hesitation, or try to reform me." He took a bite of his steak, "I prefer being cut off. The reforming thing is just a lot of pain on both sides."

She nodded and dug into her sea bass, "I wouldn't try to reform you. That shit sounds painful."

"And the actress in you wants me just the way I am," he added.

She shrugged, "Touché."

"Isn't that a fencing term?"

"Yes, it means you hit me, you cut my heart."

"Thought it was something like that. Do a lot of fencing?"

"I did a bit on a TV movie, which required the training, yes," she admitted.

"I can see why home is so important to you. With all the parts you play, you would need some place where you could be yourself."

"Exactly. I have to have some place to re-focus, to be myself so I can take on a new part from fresh."

"Also to see if you really like a guy like me, or if it is just the part driving you into my arms," he suggested.

"You really like the heart cuts, huh? I already admitted I'm a bitch," she told him. 

"An over-used world in my world," he murmured.

"Not in mine, so take it as I mean it," she suggested.

"Well, tonight is all about you. That's what I set out to do, and I finish what I start. Tomorrow, however, we'll see what the new sun brings."

"Kind of poetic," she teased him.

"I can be poetic. I read a lot," he admitted.

After dinner he rode her back to the studio, which was kind of a letdown. She was hoping for another spot on the beach, or even a dark bar. But when he got off with her, next to her car, and began kissing her, she was eager to let go, and let him do as he would.

His hands weren't as relaxing this time. Now they were incredibly arousing, and she wondered if it was her need, or his technique, which had changed. Her sexual need was rising fast, and she began pressing against him in lurid and lustful ways she only came close to in love scenes.

The thought of yanking open his jeans was tormenting her, when suddenly he was yanking open hers, while pressing her into the side of her car.

There no feeling around with his hand and fingers.

No, is this it?  Is that it?  Is this right?  How does this feel? Am I doing it right?

His hand went down her pants, under her panties, and found her hot nub with an accuracy that was stunning. Then he rubbed her, revving her just as easily as he might rev his bike.

"Oh shit! Here? Now? Oh shit!" she whimpered, taking a quick look around and then he pressed her clitoris in such a beautiful way that she didn't care if some guard or sweeper was watching. "Gawd! I thought you said no sex!" she breathed, grasping at his bare chest with her fingers.

"You want me to stop?"

"Oh, fuck! If you do, I'll hate you, but you're still an asshole. Oh shit!" she whimpered, as her first orgasm rose up, and made her new, and improved, abs tremble. "Gawd you are good at that! Fuck! Please, please! Your hotel? Please?"