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“You’ve done your homework,” he teases as we head back to his bike “Screwy couldn’t go back there. I knew that without him telling me. We’d both changed too much, having all that anger inside us felt dangerous. We weren’t gonna go back and have Mama see what we’d become. We needed an outlet, and we found the Souls… the rest is history.” He puts on a smile.
“And you still feel you need that outlet?” I check.
“I’ll always need that outlet, darlin’, especially on days like today. I don’t expect you to understand it, but being part of the Souls saved us both. I love what we do, and what the club stands for. But Screwy, Screwy really fuckin’ needs it.”
“What’s special about today?” I figure it must be an anniversary or something. I can’t imagine Squealer drops his guard very often.
“Today is Beth’s birthday. It’s also the day she chose to…” His eyes close, and his head drops. “And it’s the only day of the year I don’t see my brother. He does his thing, and I do mine, and we never talk about it after.”
“Thank you.” I plant a kiss on his cheek once we get to his bike.
“For what?” Squealer looks back at me, confused. “For bringing you to a derelict mental institute and crying like a pussy?” He laughs at himself.
“Yeah, for all of that, and more importantly, for choosing to spend the day with me.”
“You know what, Alex Monroe? I think you’re starting to like me.” He hooks that eyebrow at me and smirks, and I feel my stomach flip like I’m a teenager again.
“Don’t count on it,” I snarl.
“You wanna ride over to Colorado Springs and grab something to eat? I’ve depressed you. The least I can do is feed you.”
“You know what I really wanna do?” I look at him daringly.
“Here… really? Don’t you think that’s a little tapped?”
“Not that,” I swat him hard on his chest. “I want you to let me drive home.”
Squealer responds by laughing. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Do you see me laughing? Give me your keys.”
“Hell no, not gonna happen.” He shakes his head firmly.
“Why not?” Folding my arms, I stare up at him and wait for his excuse.
“Number one, that's my bike, and no fucker rides another man's bike. Ever. And two, you're a chic…” he has the sense to stop himself. “No one rides another man’s bike, Alex.”
I ignore his comment, pressing my body up against his and making sure his cock touches against my stomach. My lips move closer to his as I slide my hand into his back pocket and swipe his keys.
“Men are so predictable.” Rolling my eyes, I jangle the keys in front of his face.
“Pickpocketing is illegal, you know?”
“So arrest me,” I shrug, taking my place on the front of the bike and straightening up the handlebars.
“Do you even know how to handle a bike?” Squealer kicks the stand up and hops on behind me, his arms crossing around my stomach.
“Guess we’ll find out,” I glance over my shoulder at him and start the engine.
“Soon as we get to the border of town, we switch. My reputation’s taken a big enough fucking plummet since your ass showed up in town without me taking the bitch seat.”
“Just hold on,” I warn, revving the engine and setting off.
I handle the bike well. When I was working in Boston, a motorcycle was my main form of transport. Soon as Squealer figures out that I have experience, he relaxes a little. He even trusts me enough to try and distract me. His hand slipping into the front of my jeans and his finger stroking me while I try to focus on the road. I feel the weight of his cock pushing into my back, and the thought of us being together like that again causes me to soak his finger.
“Take the bars,” I call out over the wind, deciding to let Squealer see the little part of me that I like to keep hidden. He does as I request, leaning forward and replacing my hand on the bars. The road ahead is straight, and there’s no oncoming traffic, so I let the adrenaline override my senses and live a little.
“What the fuck?” Squealer’s eyes widen when I start twisting my body, but he keeps control of the bike, slightly reducing its speed, as I make a 360 and straddle him, my back facing the road and all my trust in his hands.
