Ha! Who said I can't control myself and stay away from smut?! :) Given it's pretty steamy and, weirdly enough, I was asked for smut, but this one just wouldn't go there. I still kind of like it :)
You swing the bat and the polycarbonate headlight shatters, spills on the sidewalk and Thea squeals in delight and terror. You swing it again, and another blow follows. "Fuck you, Snake, and fuck your tiny pecker! Cheating tosser!"
At that moment you hear the loud voices coming from the joint, and the door flies open. You grab Thea's hand and dart down the street. "Common, run!" You are dragging her, still clenching the bat in your other hand, and you hear violent curses behind you. You sprint up, but then you hear the booming drumming of biker's boots behind you.
You see a narrow arch between the buildings and push Thea there. "Split! I'll lose him faster." "Wren!.." She tries to protest but you are already running ahead. You pick up speed, measure your breathing and when you already feel you have lost him, a large body smashes into yours and he pushes you into the narrow back alley. He slams you into the wall, and you yelp.
You stare in a pair of livid blue eyes and realize it's not your ex. He also pauses and steps back from you. "What the bloody hell?" He is breathing heavily, his chest heaving. You vaguely remember seeing him in the Snake's joint before, they call him The King, stupid bikers' swank. He is large and clad in black leather, which is nothing new with those tossers. He also drives a Manx Norton, just like Snake's… Oh, no…
"You are Snake's girl, right? What a hell is wrong with you?" He grabs the bat from your hand and throws it aside. He is still fuming and fisting his hands but he is in control. "I… I thought it was Snake's bike..." How are you supposed to know? Sort of looked the same... "Are you bonkers, woman? You were smashing your man's bike?" "He is not my man," your tone is venomous, "He cheated on me with a slaggy waitress from Polly's."
Why are you telling him this? Let's add humiliation into the mix, al'right? He stares at you and you notice the black ink on his neck. It crawls from under the collar of his black tee, and it is some sort of flame. It licks the tendons and veins on his throat, and hides behind his right ear. You swallow.
"Pillock," he frowns. You start edging sideways. "Sorry for your bike, I'll pay for the shop..." "Wait," he places his hand on the wall near your head. "Wren is it?" He licks his lips, and you are suddenly hot. If he tries anything you won't be able to fight him off. The question, will you fight though?
He is close, and he smells surprising nice. The leather, the cigarettes, but also the fresh soap and something else. His own fresh and spicy smell. You momentarily wonder what his skin tastes like and clench your fists. You need to get out right now.
He makes some internal decision and stares into your eyes. "Want to go out with me?" You freeze. No, you don't need another biker in your life, all their "the gang is the family", "I am the one with my bike, the ghost in the machine" crap. He is waiting and then snarls, "Sod it!" and presses his lips to yours.
He tastes good. Damn it, he tastes better than anything you've ever tried in your life! You moan and grab the back of his head. He is so much taller that you get up on your toes. He picks up your bum and you wrap your legs around him. His mane is in a loose ponytail and you scrape the nape of his neck under it with your nails. He growls and sucks on your neck.
You are bloody bonkers! You are making out with a random biker in a dark backalley, and one of his hands is already under your denim shorts. You are not wearing much, a decision to smash your ex's bike came to you when you were railing to Thea in your kitchen. Shorts and an old oversized tee over a boring white bra. Damn it, what does it matter what bra you are wearing? It does, since the same hand snakes under your shirt at the back and his deft hot fingers are on the clasp. You tear your mouth from his.
"Stop, stop!" He pauses and stares at you. The pupils are dilated and his cheeks over the black beard are flushed. "I am clean," he rasps. What the fuck? Does he really think you are going to shag him against the wall after speaking to him for five seconds?
You might. You have never done it before, but this time you might. You are not a blushing virgin, you had your share of men but nothing too wild. That is definitely wild. But bloody hell, there is something about him... "Me too, but that's not what I'm talking about!"
He exhales couple time and then carefully puts you back on the ground and smiles. It is a surprisingly sunny smile. "Sorry, love, got carried away." You realize your shorts are unbuttoned. What the hell, when did that happen?! He looks and sees your knickers peeking out. They have little pictures of crossed swords and battle axes on them. He cocks a brow and smirks. You smack his shoulder.
"What's you name? You normal name, not that pompous bikers' rubbish?" "Watch your tongue, woman," he guffaws. "Don't call me woman." You are smiling too. "It's John." "Nice to meet you, John, I'm Wren." He chuckles and pulls you into him. He is leaning in and you lift your face to him. "Take me to dinner." He smirks and nods. "For starters," he murmurs. The nerve in this guy!