Ride Hard and Free (Biker Erotic Romance) (2 page)

Karen gave them a wide berth, apprehensive that one of them might try to approach her. She 
sat
 down at the bar as far from the bikers as possible and asked for a martini. She had no idea what a martini was, but she carried herself with enough confidence to hide the fact that she didn’t usually drink at all.

As she scanned the bar, one particular biker caught her attention. He was still big and burly, dressed in black leather, and he still looked like a thug, but he was clearly younger. He had to be in his late twenties or early thirties. He had a head of unkempt blond hair, and a small, chinstrap style beard that looked like a line of bristles. He was leaning against the wall beneath the No Smoking sign, smoking a cigarette as he watched the succession of amateur singers. He wasn’t that bad-looking, actually, but it was still probably best to avoid him.

The bartender came back with Karen’s martini and she pulled out her purse to pay for it.

“Put it on my tab,” said a gruff voice beside her.

The owner of the voice was anything but good looking. He had long, gray, shaggy hair and a scar running across his face. Unlike the other bikers, his jacket lacked the distinctive Hellfire patch. A mixture of alcohol and body odor wafted in Karen’s direction, making her nose wrinkle in disgust.

“Has anyone ever told you how damn pretty you are?” The man asked.

“Yes, they have, actually,” Karen answered hesitantly, casting around the room for an excuse to leave this unwelcome conversation.

“That’s good,” came the drunken reply, “you don’t have a boyfriend, do you?”

“Actually, I do,” replied Karen instantly, seizing the chance to rid herself of this odious man, “he should be back any minute now.”

“Well I’m sure he won’t have a problem with me borrowing his lady friend for a while,” the drunken biker said confidently, clearly not at all discouraged, “and if he does have a problem with it, I can always kick his fucking teeth in.”

“I have to go,” said Karen, leaving her martini unfinished and getting down from the bar.

“Where do you think you’re going, sweetheart?” the drunken biker demanded, grabbing Karen’s wrist with a massive hand. “It’s rude to walk away when someone’s talking to you.”

“Let go of me, you creep!” Karen shrieked in panic, struggling to be free of her assailant.

“Maybe you and I should go into the back for some private ‘etiquette’ lessons,” the drunken biker threatened menacingly.

Karen drew breath to scream for help but never got the chance. A powerful, masculine arm wrapped itself around the drunken biker’s throat and yanked him backwards, freeing Karen from his grip. It was the younger biker who’d been smoking earlier. He locked the drunken biker in a chokehold. The drunken biker struggled and spasmed as his airway was closed off. Eventually, he passed out.

The younger biker lay the passed-out drunkard on the ground and rifled through his pockets, fishing out 50 dollars and handing it to the bar tender.

“You’re robbing him?!” Karen asked in shock, still backed up against the wall in fear.

“He hasn’t paid for his drinks yet,” the younger biker answered tersely, “or yours.”

“You’re not even gonna call the cops?” Karen asked, still trying to get over the fright of what had nearly happened to her.

“Why?” the younger biker asked even more laconically. “They’d arrive 10 minutes too late, spend an hour taking everyone’s statements, lock this guy in a cell for the night, give him a slap on the wrist. Waste of everybody’s time. This way’s better.”

Two of the other bikers at the bar got down from their stools and dragged the unconscious drunkard out of the establishment. No one from the crowd of karaoke onlookers had noticed the altercation. Karen, still somewhat shaken, returned to her martini, downing the whole thing in one go to calm her nerves.

“Don’t drown yourself in booze,” said the younger biker, leaning against the bar to talk to Karen, “you don’t wanna end up like that guy.”

“Thanks for the advice,” Karen replied, trying to edge away without appearing rude.

“What’s your name?” He asked.

“Um…Karen, Karen Donovan,” Karen hesitantly offered her hand.

“Cole Jacobs,” Cole replied, shaking Karen’s hand. “Vice President of Hellfire MC.”

“Nice to meet you, VP.”

“You can call me Cole,” Cole offered, “as long as I can call you Karen.”

“Ok,” Karen accepted, still hesitant about trusting her savior, “nice to meet you, Cole.”

“Likewise,” Cole said with a smile.

“That guy you threw out,” Karen motioned to the door, “is he a member of your club?”

“God no,” answered Cole, pulling out another cigarette.

“Don’t you mean ‘hell no’?” Karen quipped, eliciting a laugh from Cole.

“I guess I do,” Cole smiled pleasantly, “but no, he’s from out of town. And if he knows what’s good for him, he’ll stay out of town after 
tonight
.”

Cole lit his cigarette and took a puff, taking his time as he blew the smoke back out.

“Isn’t it illegal to smoke in bars in this state?” Karen pointed out, instantly regretting the killjoy statement.

“We own the bar,” Cole reminded her coolly, taking another drag. “Who’s gonna tell?”

Karen knew that she ought to just rejoin her friends at the karaoke and avoid bikers forever afterwards. But something about Cole Jacobs kept her in her seat. In fact, it was several things. He was well-built for one thing, with a muscular torso and shoulders that showed through his shirt and open jacket. He had a handsomely square jaw and a bad boy smile that made Karen want to bite her lip coyly. And his unkempt hair and shining blue eyes completed the picture of rugged good looks. In all honesty, he was downright hot.

“Thank you, by the way, for getting rid of that guy,” Karen thanked Cole, feeling awkward for the belated statement of gratitude.

“No problem,” Cole replied. “A girl like you shouldn’t have to put up with pigs like him.”

“That’s…very gentlemanly of you,” Karen said, taken slightly aback by the complement, “thanks.”

“You didn’t think I was just choking off the competition, did you?” Cole asked, his alluring bad boy smile returning to his lips. Karen laughed in spite of herself, then composed herself quickly again.

“What makes you think you’re even in the race?” Karen challenged Cole, throwing out a gentle barb to test him.

“You do,” Cole replied smoothly, taking another drag on his cigarette, “because you’re still talking to me.”

“Don’t think you’re gonna get between my thighs just by being a smooth talker,” Karen said a little haughtily, trying to throw Cole off with another subtle barb.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, darling,” Cole replied breezily.

Karen knew that she shouldn’t even be talking to someone like Cole, let alone flirt with him. He was a biker, a crude thug almost by definition, and bad news to a good girl like her. She tried her best to affect a haughty aloofness, but in truth her defenses and inhibitions were slowly and inexorably dissolving under the sustained assault of Cole’s rugged good looks and his bad boy charm. It was clear from the glint in his eyes and his interest in her that Cole wanted to get inside her panties. A less sheltered girl than Karen would already have let him in.

Cole abruptly stubbed out his cigarette and made to leave.

“You’re going?” Karen asked, caught off guard by his decision to depart.

“Yeah, I’m heading home,” Cole said, pausing in his footsteps, “you wanna ride?”

“Like, on your bike?” Karen asked, taken even more aback by the offer.

“Yeah,” Cole replied, “I’ve gotta spare helmet. You can ride on the back.”

Karen froze with indecision. After nearly four years of being a model student, not to mention scrupulously maintaining her virginity all her life, a strange guy whom she’d met ten minutes ago was trying to take her home with him. This was a big plunge to take. Going for a girls’ night out was one thing, taking part in what would probably become a one-night stand was quite another, especially with an outlaw biker. But on the other hand, she couldn’t stay sheltered and studious all her life. What was the point of all that studying if she denied herself the chance to take a risk or two?

“Yes,” Karen exhaled nervously, “I’ll come with you.”

“Right this way, darling,” Cole gestured with a smile.

Clutching her handbag, Karen followed Cole out of the bar, leaving the karaoke party to continue. The temperature had dropped in the past few hours, and the biting cold night wind stung Karen’s bare legs. She shivered as she took the spare helmet offered by Cole and strapped it on before getting on the bike behind him.

Cole turned the keys in the ignition. Karen winced at the sound of the hideously loud engine and wished she’d been offered earplugs instead. Nevertheless, it was too late to turn back now, and she wrapped her arms around Cole’s powerful torso as he revved his engine and took off.

Karen yelped in fright as the motorcycle began to move, wondering if this was such a good idea after all. In seconds it was too late to get off as Cole left the parking lot and began to speed down Main Street at an insane speed. Karen was terrified as the vehicle roared down the road in the dead of night, its way lit only by a single headlamp. Karen found herself squeezing Cole’s stomach as tightly as she could for fear of crashing or falling off. But at the same time, it was a thoroughly exhilarating experience. Having been protected all her life from people like Cole, she’d taken a leap into the unknown and she had no idea where she was heading or what might happen next, and that unknown quality in itself made it so much more exciting.

It was also slightly awkward for Karen. To sit comfortably on the seat, she’d had to roll up her skirt a little to avoid stretching or tearing the material. Her thighs were completely exposed to the freezing night air, and her panties were rubbing directly against the seat. And yet, it was more than just comforting hugging this hunk of a biker. Karen went from hugging Cole’s stomach to slowly running her hands across him. He was strong and muscular, an anchor of safety on this otherwise perilous ride. Karen rested her head against Cole’s back and snuggled against him. It was insane of her to trust a man she hardly knew, and yet, having decided to go with him, she had no choice but to entrust herself to him even more. That feeling of powerlessness wasn’t frightening at all; paradoxically, it was comforting.

At long last, Cole arrived in a suburb of the town and pulled up in front of a comfortable-looking detached house. He switched off the engine and got off the bike, removing his helmet and hanging it on the handlebar. Karen’s ears were still ringing as she got off the bike and removed her own helmet. Picking up her handbag, she followed Cole to the front door just as a jingling sound emanated from her bag. She pulled out her phone and looked at it. Maddy had sent her three text messages asking where she was. 

Karen replied quickly: “Go home without me. I have a place to stay.”

Karen decided to ignore Maddy’s cheeky suggestion to “enjoy herself” and went up to Cole’s front door. Cole opened the door and turned to face Karen.

“Well,” said Karen, a little nervously, “I guess this is goodnight.”

Cole laughed. “Goodnight?” he chuckled, “you’re not walking home alone in the dead of night dressed like that, not in these temperatures, at least.”

“So, if I sleep with you,” Karen asked him in one last challenge, “I get a nice, warm place to stay for the night?”

“You wouldn’t have come all this way with me just to crash on the couch,” Cole replied smoothly, his bad boy smile melting away the last of Karen’s inhibitions.

Karen had chosen to take the plunge, and that meant going all the way with this virile daredevil. She leaned in close to him and gave her answer.