BIKER BUNDLE: Three Devil's Cowboys Motorcycle Club Novellas Read online

  Alex Dawson

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  Copyright 2014 Alex Dawson. All rights reserved.

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  This story is intended for adult readers (18+) only. If you are not legally an adult in your country of residence, or if this material is illegal in your jurisdiction, do not continue reading this.

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  BOOK ONE

  SPURRING ON A DEVIL'S COWBOY

  As soon as I met Luke Reynolds, I was attracted to him. At six feet five inches tall, he made me feel tiny at five seven. I was used to looking the boys at school in the eye, I loved being around tall men.

  When I first met him, though, I was sixteen and awkward, and he was kind but never leered like the other men I knew, and way older than me. When we met, he was around twenty-four. I didn’t expect to get any sort of attention from him ever - but that didn’t stop me from having secret fantasies.

  He was the new, and very young, President of the Devil’s Cowboys motorcycle club that her father had run in since he was a wild teenager. Her father was still wild, but now he was a grown-ass man with a nearly-grown daughter, and the old President was a year in the ground, with Luke trying to fill his shoes and steer the club in a new direction.

  It wasn’t always working out how he wanted. I had been watching him since he took over, and the old guard of the Devil’s Cowboys were proud of being the baddest motherfuckers around, and resisted his urges to turn them legit.

  My father, in particular, thought that Luke Reynolds was a pussy who was “trying to make them rescue fucking kittens out of trees,” for his plans to make the club earn money that wouldn’t get the FBI or IRS on their tails.

  I didn’t really care about any of that, I have to admit. My crush started off as totally physical. His muscular figure, sexy ponytail, and flirty smile made me weak at the knees.

  When he came to one of the many drunken cookouts that my father held, he actually noticed I was there, unlike most of the Cowboys, and gave me some good advice about my cheerleading tryouts, and when I aced them, I went to him to thank him. That struck up a friendship, and I walked down from my father’s trailer to chat with the Boss a few times a week.

  My father rolled his eyes and accused me of “sucking the green-as-grass little fucker’s cock just to spite your old man,” but I just ignored it.

  Before long, it was Luke’s shoulder that I cried on when my dog died, him that I showed off my Honor Roll report card to. He was always kind to me, always interested in what was going on in my life.

  Frequently, though, he would disappear for a few days, or even two or three weeks. When that happened, I moped around my own house and sighed - because the only secret I kept in our conversations was my ever-growing crush on him!

  I knew that he had to go off on Cowboy business, but I missed him so badly. Every time I left, I was afraid that he would find some real woman to sleep with, not me. I was counting down the days until my eighteenth birthday on a wall calendar from my seventeenth birthday on.

  Luke had made it very clear to the men, and word had trickled around, that jailbait girls were off-limits, no matter how hot they were. I knew he’d have to set a good example, and hoped that he was only keeping his hands off of me because I was still seventeen.

  I could dream, right?

  Finally, finally, finally, I was eighteen. No longer awkward and gawky, I was confident around men and boys - okay, except maybe Luke - and knew how to dress my figure.

  One rainy Thursday afternoon, six weeks or so before I was set to graduate from high school, I went to his house for a quick visit, to ask how his week had gone at work. He’d been on one of his mysterious trips again, and I was eager to show off my new outfit. I was hoping he would start to see me as a woman, and not just a child.

  “Hey, I’m gonna grab another Coke, you want anything?” I asked.

  Luke’s house was the only place I felt comfortable helping myself to food and drink. My father begrudged me anything I took, but Luke never seemed to care.

  “Nah, I’m good,” he said, but he paused the stupid show we were watching on Netflix.

  As I stood up, my phone fell out of my pocket onto his couch, and he picked it up, glancing down at the screen. He started to look interested, and a slow smile spread across his face.

  Oh, no! The last thing I'd been looking at was a series of texts between me and my friend Scarlett!

  "What's this?" he asked. "You're about to go visit your totally sexy crush? I hope you tell him hello from me. He better be good to you or I’ll kick his ass."

  Not only could I feel my face turning hot, I could see the red flush spread across my cheeks in the mirror hanging across from me, so I knew he could see it too.

  "Um, I sure will," I said. I held my hand out for my phone, hoping to make a quick retreat.

  "No, no, not so fast," he said, holding the phone out of my reach and twiddling it teasingly. "You've never mentioned a crush before, and I thought we were such good friends. I'm so disappointed in you."

  He laughed as my cheeks turned from rose pink to cherry red.

  "It's just a silly crush, okay? I've had it for a long time, but Scarlett is the only one who knows," I said quickly. "I don't want to talk about it."

  "It has to be a pretty serious crush, Scarlett seems to think that you should 'jump his bones.' Come on, tell me who the lucky boy is," he coaxed, but he handed me back my phone.

  I worked on stuffing my phone into my pocket, but I was wearing an old pair of tight jeans and I was so embarrassed that I struggled to put my phone away.

  "Um," I said. "That's just Scarlett. She always says things like that."

  "Sex is a very serious part of adulthood. You're an adult now. I should know, I gave you a very nice card. Do you really think it's appropriate to be joking about it like that?" he said. He looked mostly solemn, but his mouth twitched and his eyes danced behind his frown.

  I hated it when he got all mock-paternal on me. That’s not how I wanted him to see me at all.

  "Don't worry," I said, "I can promise you he won't, er, sleep with me. He's not interested. Way out of my league."

  "Oh, don't say that. You're an eighteen-year-old cheerleader, no one is out of your league."

  I hated being teased, and I hated being embarrassed, and my temper flared up at once.

  "Look, my crush is on you, okay?! I've had a crush on you for years, and I know you're not interested and I am way too young," I said.

  He raised his eyebrows and his mouth fell open, the picture of a startled man. It only lasted for a moment, though, and the confident grin that made my heart go pitter-patter spread across his face. There was a touch of sweetness, though. It was just kind of smile that I'd dreamed of receiving from him as long as I'd known him.

  "Oh," he said. "I don't know about that."

  It was my turn to raise my eyebrows, although I'm pretty sure I looked more like a frightened deer than the self-assured sexpot I sometimes longed to be when I was around him.

  "Do you..." I started. "Do you think I'm..."

  "Oh, sweet girl," he said. "You’re the hottest thing around. It has been killing me watching you and your little jailbait ass practice your cheerleading."

  “I want you to fuck me, I want you to make me your old lady, I want to be totally yours” I blurted out. It was a ridiculous thing to say, but he didn’t seem to mind.

  We hung out there in his living room, me standing, him sitting for a few agonizing seconds. I wanted to touch him, to kiss him, but I was terr
ified of making the first move. It looked like my dream was going to come true, if I had the courage to try for it.

  Finally, I reached one hand out towards him, and then let it drop and turned away out of embarrassment.

  Rising off the couch, he took hold of my shoulders and turned me back to face him. Leaning forward, he closed the distance between us and kissed me.

  I'd been kissed a few times before, but mostly by high school boys, sloppy and gross. This was nothing like those kisses. When his lips met mine they were warm and dry and soft against my own, and he pulled me against him, oh, so gently.

  Unlike the high school boys, he didn't try and immediately put his hand up my shirt or grope my ass or stick his tongue halfway down my throat, he simply let me feel the long line of his body against mine and the insistent press of his lips against my own.

  What a body it was, too - I couldn’t believe how strong and muscular he was, how hard and right his body felt against mine.

  I leaned against him, pressing my breasts into his firm chest and tilting my face up towards his to give him the best access to me. I kept my arms at my side at first, but soon enough, totally swept away by this embrace, I put my arms around him and held him close.

  He smelled so amazing. A strong, masculine, spicy scent, not the body odor and Axe that wafted from a high school boy.

  Finally, he broke the kiss, let go of my shoulders, and stepped back from me. When he spoke, his voice was a little hoarse.

  "Shit. I don't want you to regret this,” he said.

  “How could I?” I asked. That kiss was so powerful that I was a little unsteady on my feet. How could I ever regret feelings that strong and wonderful? How could I regret such an amazing man giving me his attention?

  He chuckled.

  “Oh, a lot of reasons. Your daddy will want to kill me, your daddy will want to kill you, I’m not nice, I’m not safe, I’m older than you… Aw, fuck it. Let’s not talk for a week, so you can think about whether or not you want to be mine,” he said, and paused. As his words trailed off, he reached out and tucked a loose lock of hair behind my ear.

  “Whether or not you want me to fuck you, whether you still want to ride with me. If you do, come to my place next Friday night wearing something sexy. I’ll take you out for dinner, and then we’ll come back to my place and I’ll fuck you silly and we’ll talk about your initation.”

  I nodded hesitantly.

  “Well, what are you waiting for?” he asked. “Get out of here! I’ll see you in eight days.”

  I turned and fled back to my noisy, chaotic house where there was hardly ever any privacy and my father watched my every move to make sure I wasn’t going to fuck anything up or drink his booze.

  My nipples were diamond-hard in my bra and I could feel the wetness in my panties as I trotted along, but there was no way to address that need in a place with walls that thin that always had someone nearby...

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  Two mornings later, my father woke me up by pounding on the door to my tiny bedroom.

  “Get your ass up,” he yelled.

  “I’m coming, I’m coming,” I yelled, and pulled on a bathrobe over my pajamas before opening the door.

  “Glad you finally decided to grace us with your presence, you lazy little whore,” he said.

  I didn’t roll my eyes, even though I wanted to. I was running out of makeup.

  “What time is it, sir?” I asked, trying to look alert and respectful.

  “It’s dawn, shouldn’t little nerds like you be up to study? You’re almost out of high school and I would hate to see you not get into the college of your dreams!” he mocked.

  “Yeah, yeah,” I grumbled.

  “Listen here, I’m going to head out of this shithole for a week or two. If you eat up all my crap while I’m gone, I’ll beat you until your skin won’t hold water, you understand?”

  I nodded.

  “Yes, sir,” I said.

  I stood in my bathrobe and watched as he climbed on his hog and tore gravel down our driveway.

  It took only five minutes alone for me to decide that today was the day, I couldn’t wait another week, I had to be kissed like that again, I was aching for it.

  I sent him a text message: “What would happen if I came over this morning?”

  His reply was almost instant: “You’d get what you want, but you’d also get punished for not waiting.”

  Mine was nearly as fast: “See you in an hour?”

  I wasn't sure what sort of punishment he had in mind, but I was certain that any punishment would be better than going absolutely crazy with desire.

  I knew that other Cowboys liked to be rough with their women. Sometimes that made me sick, but sometimes, it secretly turned me on, and the thought of Luke taking me firmly and showing me I was his was really hot.

  Along with his assent came a return of those butterflies in my stomach. Was I really going to do this today? Was I about to lose my virginity?

  To prepare, and calm my nerves, I started with a shower, taking my time and washing every inch of my body with my nicest soap and a soft loofah.

  I paid particular attention to my breasts, soaping and rinsing them repeatedly, in the hopes that they would be as soft and silky as possible, because I was pretty sure that today would be the first time that they would seen by someone other than me... and, I'll admit it, the desire had built up within me to a steady ache, and the soft touch of the loofah on my breasts and nipples felt incredible. I shivered as I imagined the sexy Cowboy leader’s strong fingers tracing the path that mine were taking.

  Unfortunately, I didn’t have time to linger in the shower all day and think about what could happen later. I only had an hour to prepare for our meeting, I needed to get out and get dressed and ready to see my neighbor again.

  I turned off the shower and stepped out, taking my old towel and rubbing myself dry before walking down the hallway into my bedroom.

  As I opened my underwear drawer, I hesitated. Normally I wore sensible white cotton panties and a beige bra without a hint of lace or decoration, but if things went well I didn’t want him to think that I was a boring little girl. I wanted him to think that I was a woman.

  Underneath the rest of my underwear, I dug through and pulled out a little bright red lace thong that an ex-boyfriend had bought me. I had refused to wear it then, it was a totally inappropriate gift and I broke up with him, but for some reason I hadn’t thrown it away.

  Now I was glad that I had kept it - something about this sexy older man made me feel bold and exciting, just right for wearing a thong like that. Unfortunately, I didn’t have any bras that were anything but dull - little white numbers. At a 34DD, I didn't usually wear anything like a push-up bra, but perhaps I should have scraped up some money and bought something with a little lace.

  After my efficiency with my panties and bra, it took me twenty minutes just to decide what to wear. I couldn’t put on anything that would call attention to me when I walked down the street, but I didn’t want to wear anything boring or unflattering, either. I ended up wearing a khaki miniskirt that was a few inches shorter than most of my school skirts, although not as short as my cheerleading uniform, and an old white t-shirt I worse as pajamas that was a little too low-cut for me.

  To make it a little less suspicious in case another neighbor or Cowboy was watching, I wore my summer-weight cheerleading jacket. Our school's colors were red and white (I'm sure that that was one reason my ex bought me that thong), so it set off my blonde hair and I thought I looked pretty good.There! My bra and panties might not match, but at least I had some sort of consistency in my outfit.

  Once I was dressed, I gathered my keys and wallet. Just before I walked out the door, I hesitated. Turning back to my bedroom, I grabbed a little cotton sundress out of the closet and stuffed it into an old brown leather purse, along with some fresh underwear and a toothbrush - perhaps I'd end up staying the night at his
house.

  After making short work of the run to his house, I rang the doorbell, shifting my weight from foot to foot out and biting my lip. It had been a long time since I had been anything near this nervous.

  Luke opened the door. He was wearing an old pair of jeans, a white t-shirt, and his colors. My pulse quickened as I stared at how the shirt pulled over his muscular chest and the pants clung to his strong legs.

  "Are you sure about this?" he asked.

  "Never surer," I said, trying to appear confident.

  He stepped backwards into the house, pulling the door open for me. I stepped over the threshold, knowing that when I crossed it again, I would no longer be a virgin. I walked into the living room as I had done a hundred times before, still attempting to be confident and in control here.