Page 5 of Phantom Riders MC: Hawk

Chapter 3

Audra

I knew the huge biker in front of me wanted me. He was sporting a hard-on the size of a bat. Well, okay, maybe it wasn’t that big, but it was still massive, still, I got the impression that he didn’t let his cock rule him. If anything, he seemed annoyed by his reaction to me. As I watched him stomp away, I released a breath of relief and put my shirt back on.

I was thankful that he hadn’t taken me up on my offer to remove my jeans. All he would have seen would have been more bruises from Dane’s beating. I’d let the biker believe that I was being abused, when in fact the beating I’d received before leaving my ex had been the one and only time Dane had put his hands on me in anger. I would never remain in an abusive relationship, and my running away had everything to do with that.

And the fact that I’d seen him murder an innocent man.

The man I’d been with for three years, and thought I’d loved, had killed another man in cold blood. I knew because I’d walked into it while it was happening, only ducking out of sight when the shock had worn off and I’d realized what was about to transpire. Only I hadn’t been quick enough, and one of Dane’s men had spotted me. He’d let Dane go through with his intentions before letting everyone in the room know that I was there.

I leaned back against the stall door and closed my eyes, reliving the nightmare of the last two days. Seeing a man lying on the floor, blood flowing out of the bullet hole in his head, was an image I’d never get out of my mind. The look in Dane’s eyes when he’d realized that I was there had clearly warned me not to expect any special considerations if I caused any trouble, and I hadn’t. When it came to his business he was all business, and he didn’t let our personal relationship sway his actions. It was that, and the following happenings, that had showed me how serious he was.

And how screwed I was.

He’d beaten me and told me that I could expect worse if I told anyone what I’d seen. I think he’d truly believed that he had everything under control after that, that I was cowed into doing whatever he wanted. All it had done was show me how unstable he was, and make me want to get away from him as fast as I could.

The sound of motorcycles starting up jolted me back to the present. I grabbed my hoodie and rushed outside, expecting to see them riding off without me, relieved when I saw that they were still there. I picked up my step, aware that the three men were watching me, but the only one I was interested in was the big one who appeared to be the leader. His stony stare gave nothing away, and I sensed that he was a complex and very dangerous man.

“Thank you for not leaving me.” He could have, very easily.

He didn’t say anything, just motioned with a jerk of his head for me to get on behind him. I wanted to ask where we were going, but it didn’t really matter. He’d saved my life back at the station, whether he knew it or not. Wherever I ended up I would deal with it then. I didn’t have any money left on me, but I had my phone and Carol would wire me whatever I needed.

I climbed on, wrapped my arms around him, and we were off. The other two men pulled in behind us, and I couldn’t help but notice as time went on that they remained there, as if it were the natural order of how they traveled. Whenever we changed lanes, they followed suit, close, but not too close. Another thing that I noticed was the level of observation and awareness that cloaked the bikers. They were always on guard.

The man in front of me seemed to be aware of everything at the same time, and I wondered what he was looking for. Had I escaped one fire for another? At the time it had been my only option, begging to go with them and distancing myself from Dane’s henchmen, because I knew that they were probably going to kill me. What kind of danger had I put myself in with these men? I knew they were part of a biker club, but that’s all I knew.

As we continued down the highway, miles and miles of monotonous scenery rolled by that could easily have put me to sleep if I hadn’t been afraid of falling off the bike. Runners of grassy hillsides dotted with wildflowers and lakes, fences, and the occasional roadside signs went past in a blur. I became oblivious to the traffic around us, focusing on the loud rumble of the bike between my thighs, and the hard body I was clinging to.

My body was pulsing due to the constant vibrations of the motorcycle beneath me. It was a pleasant, gentle manipulation of the sensitive area of my sex. It wasn’t bad enough that it massaged my pussy lips until I was squirming against the leather seat, but the vibration stimulated my clit until I felt the tell-tale signs of an approaching orgasm. I knew my breathing had picked up and I turned my open mouth against the biker’s collar beneath his flying hair, hoping to drown out the sounds of my climaxing.

Whether it did or not I didn’t care at the moment. I couldn’t have stopped it if I’d tried. The decision had brutally been taken out of my hands and my control was non-existent. I let go with helpless abandon, needing to feel something other than the fear and terror of the last two days, something that made me feel good, and alive, and what better than a mind-blowing orgasm against a big, bad biker? I closed my eyes and clutched at the hard abs beneath my hands, riding out the blissful wave of release.

Once it was over and I’d come back down to earth, realization of what I’d done hit me like a rock. Embarrassment began to set in as I realized that there was no way the man in front of me didn’t know what I’d just done. How could I have let myself get so carried away? It was the damn bike’s fault. It was like riding a giant dildo that wouldn’t turn off. I wondered how long it would be before my body became used to it.

Gradually daylight began to fade away. The brightness went down with the setting sun, and I could just make out the dim glimmer of stars and a partial moon in the sky. The temperature fell with twilight, and I was beginning to think I’d have to ask to make another pit stop. Plus, I was freaking starving, and that thought reminded me that I didn’t have a cent on me. How was I going to get food without money?

Finally we took an exit off the highway, but it was another twenty minutes down a few back roads before we finally pulled into a bar. The neon sign on the road said “Juicy Lucy’s”. It was set away from the road, allowing for plenty of parking in the front, and the lot was packed, but we continued around to the back of the building, where it was dark and stunk to high heaven.

He pulled into a spot and cut the engine. “Get off,” he snapped.

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” I said sarcastically, and then moaned loudly when I tried to move. I ached everywhere! Ignoring the amused chuckles of his friends, I put my hands on his shoulders to steady myself, and eased my leg over the seat. When I went to take a step my legs buckled, and with a small cry I felt myself going down.

Fast as lightning an arm of steel wrapped around my middle and I was hauled up against a rock hard chest. I gasped at the impact. Without warning we were nose to nose, mouth to mouth, staring into each other’s eyes. I searched his deeply, looking for what, I didn’t know. Maybe something that would prove to me that he was an actual person and not the cold, hard man he’d shown me all afternoon. His chiseled face looked ravished by war, and what I saw in his eyes should have frightened me, but it saddened me instead. They were the eyes of a man without a soul, one who didn’t care, didn’t feel.

I didn’t realize that I’d lifted my hand until he grasped my wrist roughly to stop me in mid-air. I wasn’t even sure what I’d intended. “No,” came his flat, emotionless directive.

No? Didn’t he like to be touched? My mind drifted back to the bathroom at the rest stop. There’d been a minute when I’d known that he wanted me, but he hadn’t acted on it, hadn’t even acknowledged that he'd been turned on. I’d been relieved at the time. Now, for some strange feeling, it felt personal.

“I don’t like being touched like that.”

I frowned. “Like what?”

“I can see it in your eyes. You think I need something. But you’d be wrong. I’ve stopped needing anything from a woman a long time ago. I don’t need or want your softness. When I want a woman, I do the touching, and it isn’t in the way of kissing or foreplay. I fuck her.”

That comment intrigued me. “You don’t kiss or do foreplay?” The softness of my tone sounded intimate in the darkness surrounding us.

“No.”

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