Page 1 of Piston

1

Piston – Nineteen Years Old

I grin as Amy bites her bottom lip, pushing her chest out a little. She taps her pen on the notepad before her and puts her light pink and purple hair behind her ear, her eyes firmly on me.

I chew the end of my pen, eyeing her up, wondering if I should break my rule of one-and-done, and let her suck me off later. I shake my head, writing down what the professor has written on the board, remembering that Amy is a clinger.

I’ll just find someone new later….

We're sitting in a lecture on finance, yet she's dressed for a night out in her sparkly crop top that can be classed as a bra, and her mini shorts and heels, with a face caked in makeup, and not once has she written anything down. Her dark brown eyes too busy eyeing me up all through class, lingering on my cut for a beat.

Fucking predictable, and an easy lay at that; I fucked her over the brown leather couch last week at the club party.

Women like her only want one thing: the leather and the benefits that come with it.

Old lady status.

Never going to fucking happen….

I've been part of the Huntsmen MC for about a year; my brother Oliver, who is now patched in as Acid. He got his road name after he tried to well…throw acid at the then-President Hammer, Steal's father, who refused him a job at their bar in town.

We were on the brink of getting our house repossessed, and my pickpocketing was not helping us.

Hammer, instead of killing Acid, liked what he saw, and gave my brother a prospect cut when he was eighteen. He also paid off the mortgage on our house.

I started prospecting when Acid earned his official cut. When he realized I was planning to leave New York, he begged me to stay and prospect. That was last year. Last week, I was patched in as a full brother in the Huntsmen MC. I have to tell yah, after a year of being at their beck and call, doing all the jobs they don't want to, and having my brother take advantage of giving me the shitty ones—including cleaning up the bathrooms as a joke, being a full brother and not having to do that is goddamn amazing.

I swear, no one wants to pick up used fucking condoms left on the floor in the common room.

"Alright, class, that's it for today. Please complete chapters 25 to 32 before the next class. When you return next week, there will be a quiz that will be worth 15% of your grade," The professorstates, and everyone groans. Amy, who spent most of the time eyeing me up like some piece of meat, freezes, and I chuckle under my breath.

That's what happens when you don't pay attention, and it's not like I gave her any hope that I want to be in a relationship with her. I told her before we fucked last time that it was a one-and-done situation, and she agreed.

Shaking my head, I grab my bag and put my shit inside it, then descend the stairs to head out the door.

"Piston, wait," Amy calls out, but I ignore her and leave the room.

I've got to get to AP calculus, which is across campus, and besides, I don't do seconds, never repeating the same girl. I fucking refuse, even if my cock liked what he saw in class.

When you have a mother who overdosed and a drunk for a father who beat the shit outta you for as long as you can remember, commitment is a fucking joke.

Fuck ‘em and leave ‘em, that's my motto, and that's how it's going to stay.

I don't want a woman, an old lady who will require my time, money that she didn't fucking earn, and a part of me that died the first time my father put me in hospital only to wake to see him fucking the nurse in the corner.

My focus is on my double major—a bachelor's in business and a bachelor's in engineering—and my club. I only have two years before I graduate, and then I can use my degrees to help the brothers earn more money.

Steal, who took over from his father as president, has already stated that I'll be made treasurer once I graduate college, just like he'll make Acid Road Captain next year after Shotgun steps down from the position.

His job will be sorting out all the different routes three brothers and two prospects need transporting ammo to affiliated clubs, while I'll be in charge of the club's finances.

The club is run by the club council, who keep things in order. The president is at the top, and five brothers with different roles support him.

Once a week, the council meets in a room called church. They'll review the club's finances and any upcoming jobs, including charity events we to organize to raise money for people experiencing homelessness or need medical care in New York.

Last week, we participated in a fun run with our affiliated clubs, the Devil's MC, the Rebel’s MC, and The Untamed Hell Fire's MC, and we raised over $100,000 for several women's shelters across the state.

"Piston, wait, geez, you walk quick," Amy gasps as she grips my arm on the quad. I stop, raising a brow at her, but she grins. "Where are you off to in a hurry, baby? I thought we could, you know, go to my dorm for a little while, have some fun like last time…."