Part of that is because as news of our work starts to spread, other bikers start paying attention. A few trustworthy guns for hire start snowballing into our ragtag pack of ex-dock workers, and as we fan out north, we’ve nearly doubled our numbers.
The whole ride takes over a month. By the end of it, we have a reputation as one of the most feared clubs on the eastern seaboard, but the only ones cowering are the human traffickers. Just like the crooked opportunists took advantage of the FBI’s presence in town, word of our vigilantism emboldens the workers from town to town, and before long, we start hearing about miners and factory laborers and dock workers organizing themselves and pushing out internal corruption on their own, before we even hit the town.
But after a long and hard streak across New England, the time comes for us to head back to where it all got started—back to Bayonne, where the townspeople greet our ride into the city with a celebration.
Eva heads off to lead one of the branches of the union Club that’s cropped up in upstate New York, and I give her all the best as she does. Genn sticks by my side, despite having the chance to do the same, but he just laughs the offer off and says his place is right here in Bayonne. Since Eva will take up the rank of President at her own branch, I give Genn her old spot as Vice-Prez, and Vasily takes his place as my Sergeant. Anya will have an officer’s rank with her name on it too, if she can keep her hands off Officer Samuels long enough. Well, it isn’t ‘officer’ anymore since he quit the force to join the Club, but the boys seem to like it as a nickname for him.
But I’m most impressed of all with Cherry. She’s a natural at this, to the point that she loses herself talking about leads and new connections even during our downtime. Now that we’re back in Bayonne, though, I’m forcing all of us to take a little downtime in our own ways.
And my downtime with Cherry is what I’m looking forward to more than anything.
46
Cherry
He pushes me through the door to his room with his ravenous kisses, his hungry, powerful arms gripping me all over my body as he explores me with utter abandon. All of our restraint has long been gone, but now that the storm is past us, it feels all the more thrilling.
Even as we stumble through his room to the bed, his mouth is at my neck, and I’m rolling my head back with a breathy gasp as his hand works itself down my pants, expertly finding my slit and starting to rub it voraciously. Behind me, his other hand squeezes my ass. He wants me so badly, and I couldn't stand not to have him inside me for another minute.
He tears my clothes off urgently. His need for me is just as bad as mine for him, even if it is a little more disorganized, more animalistic. I can hear it in his grunts, his breaths, and of course, I can feel it in the hardness between his legs.
The steady, untamed hum of a motorcycle under me has become comfortable over the past few weeks. I thought the thrill of it would wear off after a while, but it’s become only more exciting over time, the vibration only more arousing, especially with Leon in front of me.
Leon. God, I never saw any of this coming, I realize. A few weeks ago, I was just another journalist doing puff pieces, and then we storm into each other’s lives. I feel a laughing smile sneak up across my face as I think about the two of us as a pair of investigative vigilantes, and Leon breaks away from my face after laying me down on the bed and grins back at me.
“What’s that for?”
“I was just thinking how weird it is, how this all worked out,” I say, reaching up and letting my hand brush across his rough stubble. “You were just some vagrant I thought was beating up shopkeepers when I came back to town.”
“You’re not completely wrong,” he answers, and I give him a playful push while we laughs, but it only teases him on, and in another moment, his hands are on my breasts, savoring their feel as he grinds his hips up into me. I close my eyes and let myself revel in the sensation, in the feeling of this fiery rebel claiming me and every part of my body. Then I gasp as he takes a handful of my hair, holding me with a strong grip as he leans in to whisper into my ear.
“We did a hell of a lot before you got here,” he growls in a low tone, “but fuck, Cherry. Everything I really want to remember happened after you got back into my life.”
Now my hips are pushing back up against the stiff bulge in his pants, and my breaths are coming hot and heavy, I realize. Even without my conscious willing, my body wants him. I need him, and now.
My bra is already halfway across the room as he works off my pants. He’s not gentle, and I love it. Living this life on the road, rough and dirty, tracking down criminals and putting our lives on the line for the greater good every day, it’s awakened something in me I never knew I had. I feel more alive coming home from a day tracking down traffickers and getting my clothes ripped off roughly by Leon than I ever did in a cozy apartment in New York.