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“Please, Colt,” she hissed. His awareness snapped to her.
“Sorry, Kitten, I’ll give you what you need,” he said simply, and plunged his wet fingers back inside her. He shamelessly finger fucked her, like how he had with his cock, like how he should have if he had been able to keep going. He positioned his thumb to skim her swollen clit on every stroke.
“Oh God,” she snarled, and tilted her head back, her golden hair cascaded down her back. “Colt, oh, God.” She wheezed in between gasps.
“Come,” he commanded. She was writhing like she was trying to escape. Colt knew why. She’d never been touched like this before. College douche had probably pawed at her like a lame fox. It seemed she hadn’t been serviced properly, and he would do the honors. Fuck, it was a dream. A privilege. To be knuckle deep in a wet, begging, pliant April. Now that he was thinking with his brain again and not his dick, he was beginning to wonder if he shouldn’t have planned this a bit more... waited. Until they had more time. A bed. Seduce her. Treat her well. Roses, silk sheets and champagne. Well, not that, he was a biker after all but just... something better than a quickie on the bike on the roadside.
“Colt, don’t stop, this is the most-” she whined again, pulling him back from inside his head. God. His senses flared, she was everywhere around him. He could smell, touch, taste, and hear April. Under his fingers, April. Getting under his skin, April. Had he slowed down? He shook his head and continued his onslaught, focusing on her changing face. As her mouth opened up, her face muscles tensed. Yes, this was it. Her eyes slammed shut and she stuttered. Electrocuted. By an orgasm he had caused.
“Yeah,” he ground out as she clenched and released. Again. Clenched and released. Her fingernails clawed lightly at him. He held her down. Clenched and released a final time.
He looked at her, resting his forehead on hers. Sharing each other’s breaths. She gazed back at him, her blue eyes brighter than ice. His heartbeat pounded in his ears still. He smelled her shampoo, her skin, sweet and soft.
Colt cleared his throat. “I’m… that was… I’d not normally…” He felt shame crashing down in him. It was heavy, it threatened to suffocate him. He knew he needed to apologize, but he somehow couldn’t form the words.
She watched him with big, wide eyes, and said nothing.
“I’ve never come inside someone bare before, I always use protection. You clean and covered? I mean we’re okay?” he asked urgently.
“I...” she blinked and looked up, as if she was doing math in her head. “Yes. I… yes, clean, covered,” she said.
He breathed with relief, but felt a little sting. That caught him by surprise, for what? It was fine, she was on birth control, so why did that pinch?
“I’ll get some for…” He felt a sense of duty to do the right thing, even though the horse had already bolted. But he trailed off, would there be a next time? Fuck, he both wanted it and dreaded it.
Then another sound cut through their night. A far off rumble. Colt immediately stiffened.
“What’s that noise?” she asked, but the tone in her voice said she already knew, already dreaded the answer.
“Straight pipes. The MC,” he said, his eyes hardening, clearing, coming back into focus, freezing the waves of shame in place for now.
She gulped. “ We better-”
“Yup, get on.” He turned and searched the ground, finding her boots, her pants, tossing them to her. She paused, took a deep breath.
“What’s up?” he asked, frowning.
She threw him a look. “Just taking a moment to realize what we did...”
He set his jaw with a grunt. Fuck, was she having second thoughts already?
“I just had unprotected sex with an ex-con biker I hardly know on his bike on the roadside while being chased by a motorcycle club-”
“Not my bike,” Colt cut in.
“What?”
“Stole it.” He shrugged, nonchalant. She gawked for a second. He wanted to push her to her knees and shove his semi in that gape. He could go again. He didn’t, he resisted, his head was too fucked up from all of this.
“Great, fucked by a biker on a stolen bike on the side of the road-”
“Alright, alright, we gotta fucking go. You can list your regrets in your Dear Diary later on.” He got on the bike, anguish and disappointment taking hold within him. But he pushed it down. Just another feeling to lock out. Just another thing he could dwell on in the dead of the night. But right now he needed to act. And act fast. To save his hide. And April’s. Of course. Once again, here he was with April front and center in his life. Maybe only for the next twenty-four hours. Maybe for longer. He hoped longer. No point denying it, he was still as into her as he was as an eighteen year old kid. He’d had a taste of the forbidden fruit. And God help him, he wanted more.
She approached behind him, strapping on her helmet. It was good that the saddle bag had a spare helmet in it. The owner must have an ol’ lady or a regular that rode frequently on the back. A backpack was the term for it, though he wasn’t going to call April that right now. She sure as hell wouldn’t appreciate it. He didn’t turn to look at April, just stayed where he was and licked his lips, knowing what was to come. Her hands on his body. She first held his shoulders to get her leg over the saddle, then, once settled, she scooted closer to his body and her arms spidered in towards him. Under his cut. Her palms on his hips. Her fingernails, again, massaging his sharp V of muscles for a second. He groaned out loud. He could go again.
“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” she asked.
Fuck, he hadn’t meant to make a sound. He started up the bike, and it roared to life beneath them. That was better.
