“What are you thinkin’ about?” he asked as he squeezed her.
“That I’m hungry.”
He laughed. “Food will be ready at six o’clock. I’ll come up and get you.”
“Are you leaving me?”
“Babe, I’m the vice president, and I have to greet the out-of-towners. Why don’t you chill, and I’ll be back in a couple of hours, okay?” He turned her head and kissed her deeply, tasting of whiskey.
“Go on, do your duties. I’m going to take a shower and get ready,” she said.
He kissed her again. Before closing the door, he warned her, “Make sure to lock it. I have a key, so don’t open it to anyone.”
She blew him a kiss, and he was gone.
Cara locked the door and went back to the window. Most of the guys were inside the clubhouse, but a few groups of men stood around talking and drinking. She noticed a few women come toward the gates. The women were scantily dressed in very short shorts and skirts, their ass cheeks noticeable, and way-too-tight tops—or even no tops, just stickers over their nipples. Cara swallowed hard; she was going to stand out like a sore thumb. These were the women Hawk screwed. He must like women who dress like that. I wonder why he came after me? She stared out the window, transfixed, as more and more women came to the compound. I’ve got to stop doing this. This is crazy.
She made herself leave the window and take a shower, wondering what Hawk was doing while she was alone up there. Figuring a lot of the women downstairs would make a beeline for him, would he fuck one of them? He could do it, and she’d never know. Didn’t these bikers think it was okay to fuck if they felt like it? For that matter, didn’t most men think that?
Trevor’s infidelity assaulted her thoughts. Stop it, Cara, Hawk isn’t Trevor. You have to start trusting a man sometime.
Finished with her shower, she went back to the window and watched the party unfold as she towel-dried her hair.
* * *
“Born to Raise Hell” by Motörhead vibrated the overhead speakers as more members came into the clubhouse. Many brothers hadn’t seen each other since the previous year’s Sturgis rally. They milled around with beers in hand, or engaged in some serious conversation about engines and chrome; motorcycle talk was number one, more important than booze or women.
The regular club whores, Lola and Brandi, walked around the throng of men, giving them a sneak peek of their assets. Lola hated to compete with the hoodrats who came to party on the weekends; to her, the hoodrats were cop-outs—they weren’t committed to the biker-club life at all. She was available to the members all the time and was part of the club’s fabric, seeing herself as a necessary spoke in the club’s wheel that kept turning, and it pissed her off that the weekend sluts came to the club acting like they owned it. Just the week before, Lola had to show one of the bitches who was boss. The brothers loved watching Lola and the slut punch it out, but for Lola, it was a matter of protecting her turf. There was no way in hell she was going to let one of those weekend whores act like they were in charge. She kicked the skinny slut’s ass good, and she noticed the brothers treated her with a bit more respect for holding her own.
Lola scanned the room for Hawk; she wanted to fuck him for sure during the party. In the last few months, she hadn’t seen him around and she missed his presence, having a soft spot for him ever since he’d fucked her. Spotting him near the bar, she walked over to him and drew close to his ear, whispering in a sultry voice, “Hiya, handsome. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you ’round here.”
Looking sideways, Hawk’s eyes rested on her highly made-up face. Pressing into his side, she squeezed his bicep and rubbed her boobs, hanging out of her skimpy neon green top, against his tattooed arm.
Frowning, Hawk jerked his arm away and said, “I’ve been busy.”
“Are you ready to have some fun tonight, darling?”
“It’s good to see members I haven’t seen for a while.”
“What about you ’n me goin’ someplace to fuck?”
“Not gonna happen, but there are plenty of brothers who’d love to fuck your pussy.”
“The one I want tonight is you. I’ve reserved myself for you only.”
“I’m not available,” Hawk stated, turning his back on her.
Lola blinked several times then said, “What do you mean, ‘not available’?”
“Not that it’s any of your fuckin’ business, but I’m with a woman now. Conversation over. Move on.”
“What woman? You got yourself an old lady?” Surprise and disappointment laced her voice.
“I said, move on.” Waving his arm, Hawk yelled out to a heavy, bearded man who had an arm around a slut and a bottle of whiskey in his hand. “Bones, when the fuck did you get here?”
The bearded man made his way to Hawk, embraced him, and said, “It’s been too long, brother. I knew you were here when I saw your fuckin’ shit-kickin’ Harley. You customized the hell outta it.”
“Fuck, yeah.” With Hawk’s arm around Bones, he said, “Let me get you a beer.” The two men walked toward the bar, arms clasped around each other’s shoulder.
Lola stared dumbfounded at Hawk’s retreating figure. Hawk got himself an old lady? What the fuck? Lola knew a few of the men had old ladies and some of them had girlfriends, but it didn’t stop them from fucking her, Brandi, or the mamas. Shit, she’d have to find out more about this skank who had a hold of Hawk’s cock.
A tall member from Cortez came over to Lola, pulled her into him, and said, “I need some fuckin’, whore.” Putting her arms around him, she kissed him on the lips and yanked him toward the hallway to secure one of the small rooms. She would fuck him, but she knew she’d be wishing it was Hawk’s cock inside her.
* * *
Cara heard the lock turn before Hawk came into the room. His gaze roamed over her body, and she noticed desire building in his eyes as she stood in the middle of the room wearing a short, black flounce skirt, a black and red striped crop top, and short, black boots with silver buckles and studs.
Hawk whistled between his teeth. “You look tempting. Get over here.”
A flush crept across her cheeks as she took a few steps toward Hawk. Impatient, he stretched his arms and grabbed her, dragging her into him. He skimmed his hands over her curvy body then reached under her skirt and touched her bare ass cheek.
“You’re killing me, babe. I gotta kiss that sweet ass of yours.” Spinning her around, Hawk plopped Cara face down on the bed then lifted up her skirt, revealing two firmly shaped globes separated by her thong’s black string. As he leaned over her, a sharp zip rang in her ears as he opened his jeans. Reaching backward to clutch his cock, Hawk grasped her arms, raised them over her head, and held them in place.
“Don’t move your arms, got that?” he commanded.
“Yes,” she breathed.
Twisting her head over her shoulder, she saw Hawk hold his stiff cock in his hands then rub his pre-come over her firm, white buttocks while he slid his hardness up and down her crack. Squirming under his touch, she reached backward to touch him.
“I’m not going to tell you again. Keep your arms over your head.”
“I want to touch you,” she protested.
“You’re not fuckin’ listening to me. Hands. Over. Your. Head.”
As he bent down and kissed her ass cheeks, his panting filled her ears. Not being able to stand it, her arm stretched behind her as she searched for his hardness while his mouth kissed, licked and bit her round globes. When her fingers brushed against his dick, her grasping hand squeezed his shaft, but before she enjoyed the feel of him, Hawk gripped her wrists and secured her arms over her head.
“You don’t take directions too well, do you? I’m going to have to teach you a lesson.”
Before Cara could answer, Hawk lightly spanked one of her ass cheeks. Cara gasped. He slapped her again, that time a little harder, making her moan while she clenched her ass. As he smacked her even harder, he pressed against her and, with his hot breath on her neck, he said, “Do you like that, baby?” She whimpered. “I’m asking if you like it.”
“Yes, I do,” she panted.
“Your ass is so fuckin’ sweet, babe.” Hawk planted another slap on her ass; her butt cheeks were red from his hands. Licking her ass, his tongue cooled the stings from the spanking while Cara arched her back to push her butt closer to Hawk’s demanding mouth. He chuckled under his breath. “You’re a hungry one, aren’t you, baby?” She pushed her ass further into his face.
“I bet if I take my finger and stroke your pussy, it would be sopping. Am I right, babe?” he asked between licks and kisses on her ass.
She moaned her answer.
Hawk ran his fingers between her engorged lips. “Yep, that’s what I thought, soaking and aching for my touch.” He roughly squeezed her heat while Cara squealed in delight. As she was on her knees, she lifted her ass higher and spread her legs wider, causing her drenched mound to hang down, her arms still above her head. Taking his index finger, Hawk flicked her clit over and over, and it felt fucking awesome: the gravity pulled her clit downward and Hawk’s teasing ignited her. Pressure built up in her core and heightened her arousal. Damn, I want him slamming into my pussy.