Page 47 of Run Little Killer
"Oh yeah?" Rhett starts, the forklift beeping as it reverses, swiveling around to unload the pallet before it comes back for the next. "Then why was she so desperate for my cock this morning?"
"I railed that tight little cunt so hard, she probably just needed a quickie to take the edge off. Knew an old fuck like you wouldn't have the stamina to wear her out."
Rhett scoffs as the forklift returns, picking up the next pallet and moving it into the warehouse. "You talk big game for someone who’s just nine years younger than me."
"Makes me nine years closer to her age than you are," I jab, folding at the waist to grab one last box and carry it inside.
The truck's rollup slams down as Rhett jumps back on to the concrete pad, carding a hand through his hair. "Years won't mean a damn thing when she's underneath me, clawing at the sheets as she screams my name."
"Cocky old bastard." I shake my head, hoping down from the tailgate as Mav and Warren walk our way.
"Go on and head to the clubhouse," Mav orders. "I'll settle up here."
The sun is settingbehind the trees as the stretch of highway starts to feel more like home. I've ridden along this road more times than I can count, every crack in the pavement giving me a growing sense of familiarity as my Dyna rolls closer to the clubhouse. The wind shifts as we round the bend, making it just a few degrees colder.
I draw in a breath, the scent of damp earth and decaying leaves filling my nose and instantly easing the tension from my shoulders. Lennon readjusts her grip, fingers sliding into the pocket of my hoodie as I feel her turn her head against my back. My gloved hand moves to rest on the crest of her thigh, thumb tracing idly across the inside of her leg.
The ride's never been about the destination itself, it's the sense of relief that washes over you. The reckless abandon slithering beneath your skin that you blindly accept but never let fully take control. The ride back to theclubhouse is much the same, except for the feral little menace that won't leave my mind.
Bringing girls back to the clubhouse has never really been my thing. There’s always some club cunt around that’s more than willing. The girls I'd meet at the bar usually just wanted the bragging rights, so being railed against the building in an alley more than did it for them. But with Lennon, there's this insatiable hunger that no matter how deep or hard I bury my dick inside of her will ever be fulfilled. The fact that sleeping beside her didn't set my teeth on edge means something too, but that's a landmine I'm not ready to deal with yet.
As we turn onto the side street, the chain link fence comes into view, black nylon fabric lining it to keep prying eyes out. I downshift and maneuver through the open gate, the Devils logo painted in white on the side of the corrugated black metal. Swinging the bike around and holding in the clutch, I toe my bike back into my usual spot and knock down the kickstand.
The handles twist to the side and I kill the engine, the bike rocking slightly. "Hey," I bite out. "Watch the-"
"Pipes, I know," Lennon sasses as she jumps off, arching her back and taking a few wobbly steps. "My vagina's numb," she whines, swiveling her hips.
"I can help you try to find some feeling in there darlin'," Rhett drawls, resting his forearms on his gas tank.
"Might be a two person job, old man. Better let me help," I say, tugging my snapback off and carding a hand through my hair before replacing it on my head.
"Thats the best idea I think you've ever fucking had, Hawthorne," he smirks.
"Whatta ya say, little killer?" I murmur, the tip of my tongue tracing the seam of my lips.
A pretty pink flush creeps across her creamy skin, her eyes taking on a salacious gleam as she pins her bottom lip in place with her teeth.
She doesn't get to answer before the roar of Mav's engine has us all swiveling our heads. He rips in, gliding into his spot and dismounting.
"Office," he barks at us, stalking off towards the entrance.
"Cockblocker," I mutter.
"Let's get this over with," Rhett sighs, stepping closer to Lennon. "We’ll get you settled," he says, draping an arm around her shoulders and guiding her inside.
The doorto the back office snicks shut behind me as Mav takes a seat behind his desk. His scuffed boots kick up onto the surface, rattling its contents as he leans back and folds his arms across his chest. "Got another job for you two tomorrow, something a little different."
"How long of a run?" Rhett asks, plopping down on the chair across from him.
"Not far," Mav answers
"What about the split?" I ask, propping a foot up and leaning back against the door.
"None," he deadpans.
"The fuck?" I spit. "We don't do shit for free."
His boots hit the ground with a thud as he pitches forward, fists slamming down on the desktop. "We sure fucking do when we're trying to make up for delaying a load and offing the driver."
