Serial Novel: The Biker's Wench, Chapter 8
This serial novel is posted in draft form every Tuesday and Friday.
Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7
The Biker's Wench
Chapter 8
Monica couldn't think, much less breathe. Her senses were overwhelmed as Harley plundered her mouth with his tongue, stroking her higher and higher with every thrust against her lips. She rocked her hips against the hard ridge in his jeans, pressed her chest against his and nearly whimpered in disappointment when he pulled back after one last nibble at her bottom lip.
She prepared herself for the worst before she opened her eyes. Had she really just agreed not to have sex with this man for an entire year? Looking up into his intense blue gaze, she hoped like hell he wasn't serious. Because there was no way could she live with him and be expected to keep her hands off such a tasty treat.
"I think we get the point." The sheriff's amused voice broke the spell, reminding her that they had an audience. Heat fused with excitement at the thought of the display she'd just been part of, quickly followed by embarrassment as the sheriff's lips turned up.
"Why don't you two take this show back to the ranch, and I'll escort Mr. Thomas here back to the hotel. I think we've seen what we needed."
Braden stepped forward, hands balled into fists at his side. "You bitch. You haven't heard the last of me." Monica leaned into Harley, her hands gripping his ribcage as he pulled her to his chest, turning a shoulder towards Braden in a clearly possessive move.
"Come on, Mr. Thomas." The sheriff took Braden's arm and pulled the man aside, following when he pulled away until they got back to the cruiser. The flashing lights went out a couple seconds after they got in the car, and Monica watched them drive away over the black leather-wrapped bicep of her...fiance. She leaned back slowly, shivering as the cool night air took the place of his warmth. She wanted to snuggle into him again and pretend that they were really a couple. That he wasn't just another man who wanted to possess her for his own gain. At least Harley only seemed interested in a short-term lease. Best deal she'd been offered yet, even if the terms were less than desirable. Though the electricity snapping between them gave her hope that there might still be time to negotiate.
Finally gathering the courage to look up at him, she saw him staring out across the desert, toward the lights of Reno. Denying the urge to reach up and trail kisses over the hard line of his angular jaw, she lost her balance as she tried to shift back on the seat. The motion pushed her harder into Harley's groin and he twitched between her legs. Those intense blue eyes met hers for a long moment as he grasped her waist, lifting her easily off his lap so she could swing her leg across to stand beside the bike. It took all she had to keep her knees from buckling as he pulled away
"This isn't going to work." His voice was husky, and stared down at his bike as he spoke. "Put your helmet back on. I'll take you into town, and buy you a plane ticket. You'll at least get a head start before they come looking for you again." He pulled on his own helmet and started the engine, revving the engine loud enough to drown out any protest she might have made. Monica stood frozen for a moment, her head spinning at the unexpected words as she tried to decide whether he was insulting her or just crazy.
She didn't want to run anymore. He'd offered her a way out, and the thought that he could actually help her get her life back had taken root in her mind. Freedom was only a year away, and after offering her all that he was just going to dump her on the first flight out? Like hell. She crossed her arms over her chest and stared, willing him to shut down the bike so they could talk. He stroked the engine again, clearly impatient to get moving. Screw that.
Grabbing the helmet off the back of the bike, she marched around to stand in the headlight beam where he could see her clearly. Lifting it over her head, she slammed the heavy item into the dirt, crossed her arms over her chest and waited. Several long moments passed before he shut down the motor and yanked his own head gear off. He swung a leg over the machine and strode toward her, his expression hidden in the darkness until he was standing so close she nearly took a step back.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" He leaned in, his breath warm on her face. "I just offered to pay your way anywhere out of here you want to go, and you start throwing my stuff around?" He stared at her a few more seconds before stepping back, rubbing a hand over his neck as he turned away. "I should have just handed you over to the sheriff." He turned back and put his hands on his hips, casting a striking profile in the dim moonlight as he waited.
Monica shivered, fighting back tears that had been close to the surface since Braden had walked into the saloon earlier that night. "I don't want to leave," she said quietly, looking down at the dark dirt. "You said you could help me, and I promise to do whatever you want. I can help you too." Looking up, she walked slowly to stand in front of him, her fingers sliding up his chest. "I can't run anymore. I'm tired. I don't want live like this." He flinched under her touch, but didn't pull away, and she hooked her hands lightly around his neck. "I'll do anything you want," she said, placing a soft kiss at the base of his throat. "Anything." She nibbled her way up the side of his neck to lick that scar on his jaw that had intrigued her earlier and tugged on his neck, wanting to feel his mouth against hers again.
Iron fingers circled her wrists, and pried her hands away as he forced her back, holding her in front of him at arm's length. The tears she'd been holding back escaped, spilling over her cheeks and she closed her eyes, bowing her head in defeat as she twisted out of his grasp. Humiliation flooded through her at the thought of what she'd done. Was this what she'd been reduced to then? A woman willing to trade her body for protection? She might as well go back to her father, since she'd obviously forgotten what she was running from in the first place.
Turning away, she swiped at her face with her half-frozen fingers. Not only had she become the very thing she'd always feared, but she'd offered herself up to a man who didn't want her. She might as well just crawl out into the desert and disappear.
"You don't understand," Harley said, frustration in his gravely voice. "I can't be around you, not after tonight. It's better for both of us if you just go."
Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7
The Biker's Wench
Chapter 8
Monica couldn't think, much less breathe. Her senses were overwhelmed as Harley plundered her mouth with his tongue, stroking her higher and higher with every thrust against her lips. She rocked her hips against the hard ridge in his jeans, pressed her chest against his and nearly whimpered in disappointment when he pulled back after one last nibble at her bottom lip.
She prepared herself for the worst before she opened her eyes. Had she really just agreed not to have sex with this man for an entire year? Looking up into his intense blue gaze, she hoped like hell he wasn't serious. Because there was no way could she live with him and be expected to keep her hands off such a tasty treat.
"I think we get the point." The sheriff's amused voice broke the spell, reminding her that they had an audience. Heat fused with excitement at the thought of the display she'd just been part of, quickly followed by embarrassment as the sheriff's lips turned up.
"Why don't you two take this show back to the ranch, and I'll escort Mr. Thomas here back to the hotel. I think we've seen what we needed."
Braden stepped forward, hands balled into fists at his side. "You bitch. You haven't heard the last of me." Monica leaned into Harley, her hands gripping his ribcage as he pulled her to his chest, turning a shoulder towards Braden in a clearly possessive move.
"Come on, Mr. Thomas." The sheriff took Braden's arm and pulled the man aside, following when he pulled away until they got back to the cruiser. The flashing lights went out a couple seconds after they got in the car, and Monica watched them drive away over the black leather-wrapped bicep of her...fiance. She leaned back slowly, shivering as the cool night air took the place of his warmth. She wanted to snuggle into him again and pretend that they were really a couple. That he wasn't just another man who wanted to possess her for his own gain. At least Harley only seemed interested in a short-term lease. Best deal she'd been offered yet, even if the terms were less than desirable. Though the electricity snapping between them gave her hope that there might still be time to negotiate.
Finally gathering the courage to look up at him, she saw him staring out across the desert, toward the lights of Reno. Denying the urge to reach up and trail kisses over the hard line of his angular jaw, she lost her balance as she tried to shift back on the seat. The motion pushed her harder into Harley's groin and he twitched between her legs. Those intense blue eyes met hers for a long moment as he grasped her waist, lifting her easily off his lap so she could swing her leg across to stand beside the bike. It took all she had to keep her knees from buckling as he pulled away
"This isn't going to work." His voice was husky, and stared down at his bike as he spoke. "Put your helmet back on. I'll take you into town, and buy you a plane ticket. You'll at least get a head start before they come looking for you again." He pulled on his own helmet and started the engine, revving the engine loud enough to drown out any protest she might have made. Monica stood frozen for a moment, her head spinning at the unexpected words as she tried to decide whether he was insulting her or just crazy.
She didn't want to run anymore. He'd offered her a way out, and the thought that he could actually help her get her life back had taken root in her mind. Freedom was only a year away, and after offering her all that he was just going to dump her on the first flight out? Like hell. She crossed her arms over her chest and stared, willing him to shut down the bike so they could talk. He stroked the engine again, clearly impatient to get moving. Screw that.
Grabbing the helmet off the back of the bike, she marched around to stand in the headlight beam where he could see her clearly. Lifting it over her head, she slammed the heavy item into the dirt, crossed her arms over her chest and waited. Several long moments passed before he shut down the motor and yanked his own head gear off. He swung a leg over the machine and strode toward her, his expression hidden in the darkness until he was standing so close she nearly took a step back.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" He leaned in, his breath warm on her face. "I just offered to pay your way anywhere out of here you want to go, and you start throwing my stuff around?" He stared at her a few more seconds before stepping back, rubbing a hand over his neck as he turned away. "I should have just handed you over to the sheriff." He turned back and put his hands on his hips, casting a striking profile in the dim moonlight as he waited.
Monica shivered, fighting back tears that had been close to the surface since Braden had walked into the saloon earlier that night. "I don't want to leave," she said quietly, looking down at the dark dirt. "You said you could help me, and I promise to do whatever you want. I can help you too." Looking up, she walked slowly to stand in front of him, her fingers sliding up his chest. "I can't run anymore. I'm tired. I don't want live like this." He flinched under her touch, but didn't pull away, and she hooked her hands lightly around his neck. "I'll do anything you want," she said, placing a soft kiss at the base of his throat. "Anything." She nibbled her way up the side of his neck to lick that scar on his jaw that had intrigued her earlier and tugged on his neck, wanting to feel his mouth against hers again.
Iron fingers circled her wrists, and pried her hands away as he forced her back, holding her in front of him at arm's length. The tears she'd been holding back escaped, spilling over her cheeks and she closed her eyes, bowing her head in defeat as she twisted out of his grasp. Humiliation flooded through her at the thought of what she'd done. Was this what she'd been reduced to then? A woman willing to trade her body for protection? She might as well go back to her father, since she'd obviously forgotten what she was running from in the first place.
Turning away, she swiped at her face with her half-frozen fingers. Not only had she become the very thing she'd always feared, but she'd offered herself up to a man who didn't want her. She might as well just crawl out into the desert and disappear.
"You don't understand," Harley said, frustration in his gravely voice. "I can't be around you, not after tonight. It's better for both of us if you just go."
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