Page 3 of Maverick

“You deserve some throbbing manhood. A glistening manroot invading your meatcurtains and inching up your musty cavern.”

“Stop!” I sputtered a laugh. As much as we loved smut, we also loved to laugh about the worst of it.

“Or you could masturbate each other,” she went on, cackling.

“That was the worst,” I agreed.

But she wasn’t wrong. The thought of stepping into a biker rally made me nervous, strangely intrigued, and I hated to say it, ‘moist’.

“I really don’t understand your dislike of the word,” Nova started. “Moist is cake. Dessert. Wet is much worse. Makes me think of a basement or a smelly dog.”

Shaking my head, I didn’t want to get into what would be the best way to describe what the thought of hot bikers did to my privates. “If I’m going to help my mom, I have no choice but to go to this rally.”

“See, it’s already a romance novel. The heroine has no choice.” The back of her hand to her forehead, she fake fainted.

“Real funny.”

We pushed through two days on the road, stopping only for gas, cheap motels, and drive-thru food. Each time my phone rang, I hoped it would be my mother with more details, but she only sent a few cryptic texts.Hurry uporplease get here soon. She gave me the address of a big open field near Anarchy, California, where the Kings of Anarchy MC was hosting their rally.

After hours of bleary-eyed driving, we finally arrived in Anarchy. It wasn’t a big city by any means, more like a large town that had grown around a chaotic intersection of highways. Relentless desert sun beat down, its glare shimmering on the asphalt.

We found a cheap motel on the edge of town that had a half-broken sign readingAnarchy Inn—Vacancy. The place looked… well, not exactly five-star, or even three, but at least it was somewhat clean and had a working lock on the door. That was about as much as we could hope for. We checked in, rolling our suitcases into a surprisingly clean room with two queen beds and a rattling air conditioner.

“So,” Nova announced, flipping through her phone as she perched on her bed, “I say we freshen up, grab some outfits that won’t screamlawyer ladies from Dallas, and then head over to see your mom.”

She didn’t have to twist my arm too much. If I was going to step into this place, I wanted to at least attempt blending in. I had no illusions that I’d pass as a regular, but I hoped I wouldn’t look like a total fish out of water.

We found a nearby strip mall with a boutique that apparently specialized in biker attire, or so said the neon sign in the window.Anarchy Outfitters. It seemed like this town had a theme.

Tight leather pants hung from racks, along with cropped tops, studded belts, and riding gear. We both nearly died laughing as we tried on increasingly scandalous outfits.

“Smutty!” Nova gasped, wiping a tear from her eye as she held up a tiny black leather vest that could barely qualify as a garment. “Youhaveto try this on.”

I rolled my eyes but took it from her. “Fine. But if my boobs pop out, I’m blaming you.”

Sure enough, the black leather vest was snug and sexy, showing off more boob than I usually cared to. Paired with a very short matching mini-skirt and tall boots, I looked like I was dressed for a costume party. But Nova insisted it was perfect. She ended up with a short denim cut-off skirt, fishnet tights, a black Harley tank top that showed off her cleavage, and a studded leather belt and short boots to match.

By the time we got back to the motel, we were giggling like teenagers, half-horrified, half-excited. We changed into ournew outfits, curled our hair, put on makeup that was far bolder than my usual neutral look.

I stared at myself in the mirror. My long dark hair hung in beach waves over my bare shoulders, my green eyes popping behind my thick rimmed red glasses. The vest was unzipped just enough to show all my cleavage down to the nips. My thick hips and thighs were poured into the mini-skirt, and my boots gave my legs a decent shape, but also made me look a bit taller than I already was. All in all, I felt hot, like a different woman, someone braver.

“All right,” Nova said, giving herself one final once-over. She was tall and slim, her dark-blonde hair tumbling artfully down her back, so she looked like some runway model with a dangerous streak. “Shall we, Smutty?”

I nodded, swallowing the knots in my stomach. “Slutty. Let’s do this.”

Chapter 3

The rally was like landing on a different planet. The venue was a massive stretch of desert land filled with motorcycles, rows upon rows of gleaming chrome under the blistering sun. Music boomed from makeshift stages, competing with the roar of engines. Tents lined the dirt pathways, selling everything from beer to bongs to leather gear. There were stands advertising tattoos, piercings, even mud wrestling. The smell of dust, exhaust, and weed hung in the stifling air.

We parked the car on the edge of the madness and stepped out, both of us instantly hit by a wave of intense heat. It felt like we were walking into a real-life version of those MC romance books, but infinitely rougher, grittier.

“This is like Burning Man for bikers,” Nova shouted over the noise, eyes wide. “Look at those bikes!”

“Yeah, don’t point,” I agreed, experiencing a slight dizziness. “Or maybe Burning Man for criminals.” I’d studied enough cases to know the lawlessness that went down at these events. But that was all the more reason to find my mother. “I’m not even sure where to start looking for my mom.”

We began weaving through the crowds. I gawked at the carnival-like atmosphere, complete with freaks and even some bikers with their faces painted like evil clowns. People were wearing bandanas and leather vests with patches from clubs I didn’t recognize because they were real. But to my delight,several guys were shirtless, showing off heavily inked muscular torsos that were as yummy as the models in Texas.

As for the women, we discovered we were overdressed as they paraded around in thong bikinis or nothing at all, holding beer cans or hooking their arms around the men. Not to mention, riding their shoulders, in nothing at all. I felt like I was trespassing on some hedonistic playground.

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