Dangerous Curves Ahead

Chapter 1

"It's not like that at all," Opie said, using every bit of willpower inside him to keep the frustration he was feeling out of his voice.

Opie took a deep breath. Donna's excessive nagging was coming from a place of concern for him. He'd been taken from her and from their family for five long years. It was only natural for her to be terrified of that happening again. Taking a second breath and letting it out as slowly as he could, Opie scrubbed at his face and reminded himself about how Donna stuck with him during the entire time he'd been incarcerated. Something he knew from personal observation was a rare occurrence. Most of his fellow prisoners' wives and girlfriends stopped visiting after the first six months. But not Donna. She stayed when no one would have blamed her for leaving. She stayed even though he was gone for almost longer than they'd been married in the first place. Since he got home, he'd been struggling to feel emotionally connected to her. But he told himself that would come in time. First he needed to get used to feeling human again.

"There's nothing like that going on," Opie repeated for what felt like at least the hundredth time.

There were no gun sales happening on this trip. No violence. Nothing. They were just meeting with another club to talk business. The meet was arranged by their brother club, The Devil's Tribe. The president of that club and Clay had been friends for years. There was absolutely no chance of an ambush. Opie wasn't doing Clay or Jax a favor by coming. Clay was doing him a favor by paying him to be here. Because he desperately needed the money. Work opportunities were far and few between for a convicted felon like himself. Opie was going to make more in the next twenty four hours than he made at his 'real' job in a week. And all he had to do was ride his bike to Nevada and sit on a barstool.

"I have to go. I'll talk to you when I get home," Opie said, cringing as he clicked his phone shut even though he could tell Donna wasn't even close to done throwing her fit. Jax tossed the butt of his cigarette onto the pavement, stomping it out with the sole of his tennis shoe. He gave Opie a sympathetic pat on the back.

"She'll come around," Jax said, giving his longtime friend a smile as they headed into the bar together.

The purr of motorcycle engines caught their attention. Jax and Opie stopped in the doorway of the club with their hands lifted to shade their eyes from the hot Nevada sun. Seven bikes pulled into the lot. But that wasn't why they were staring. They were expecting more bikers to arrive. But they weren't expecting them to be women. The incoming Harleys were custom painted in shades ranging from deep purple to hot pink. One bike was almost completely bedazzled in crystals. The rider that climbed off it had a sparkly helmet to match. And when she pulled it off, her long blonde hair came spilling out.

"Holy fuck," Opie cursed, hissing the words under his breath.

"Is that who I think it is?," Jax asked, though it was obvious from his tone that he already knew the answer to his question.

"That's Dylan Danger," Opie said. He'd know her anywhere. He just spent the better part of the last five years with her pinup poster as his only form of female companionship. And to be fair, he'd been getting off on pictures of her even before he went to prison. He doubted there was a man in the club that hadn't stroked off at least once while thinking about her. There were posters of her hanging up in the garage office.

Jax and Opie stood in the doorway of the club with their jaws hanging down somewhere near their chests as they watched the small group of women climb off their bikes. They removed their helmets. And some of them shed their jackets as well, laying them across the seats of their bikes before they began to approach the building. While they weren't as easily recognizable as their leader, Opie spotted at least two more mens magazine models among the group. And walking with them was a woman with them that made his jaw drop for a whole different reason. She had to be the tallest woman he'd ever seen in person. She easily towered over Jax. Even Opie only had her by a few inches and he was six and a half feet tall. He noticed she was sticking close to their leader, giving him the impression that she must be the more petite woman's personal bodyguard.

"Does Clay know this is who we're here to meet?," Opie asked, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand.

"If he did, he didn't tell me shit," Jax said. And there was no way Clay would be able to keep something like this under wraps. He might keep things from them. But he told Tig everything. And if that pervert had any idea Dylan Danger was about to pull up, he'd be out here drooling right along with them.

Opie probably would have stood in the doorway staring for the rest of the day. It was Jax that had the sense to elbow him out of the way and pull the door open for their guests. It wasn't a secret that Jax was the ladies man of the group. And a few of the women smiled at him as they passed. The last girl to file in looked younger than the rest. And since she was carrying two large pink boxes, Opie assumed she must be their prospect. He and Jax followed her into the club, shutting the door behind them.

"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes," Jury teased, greeting Dylan with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Opie assumed she must know the leader of the Devil's Rejects fairly well, because Dylan greeted him with equal enthusiasm and asked after his kids by name.

She gestured towards the long pink boxes her companion had set on the bar. "Your order is in the bottom box," she said, threading her arm through Jury's. The man reached for his wallet but she waved him off. "It's on me," she insisted. "I already owe you for setting this meeting up on such short notice." The way she smiled up at him was almost hypnotizing. And Opie was sure he imagined it when she glanced back over her shoulder at him as Jury escorted her across the bar.

"Well if it isn't the infamous Clay Morrow," she said, sticking her hand out towards him. "We meet at last."

Opie struggled not to laugh at the shocked looks on Clay and Tig's faces. Their mouths were hanging open, much like he and Jax's had been outside. Except since Clay was almost always in complete control over himself, it was even funnier to see his reaction. He reached forward and clasped the woman's hand in his as he raked his eyes over her abundant cleavage and comparatively tiny waist. Her snug black jeans put the curves of her hips and legs on display.

"I'm Dylan Danger."

Her name came with a firm handshake. Once she managed to get her hand back from Clay, Tig offered her his hand. She took it, giggling when he leaned into her personal space to introduce himself. The tall woman that was shadowing her didn't seem to find his advances as funny. And she pressed slightly forward, giving Tig a warning look.

"I'm Clay," Clay said, speaking as if he'd only just remembered his own name.

"I know who you are," Dylan replied with a smile. She turned and signaled to the young girl that carried in the large pink bakery boxes. "I wanted to thank you for agreeing to meet with me." She set the box on the bar top and flipped the lid open to reveal an assortment of lavishly decorated cupcakes. "These are from our bakery in Vegas."

Out of their group, Bobby was the dessert aficionado. And the large man wasted no time in pushing forward to examine the generous gift Clay just received. Juice and Half-Sack followed his example, though Opie guessed they were more interested in getting closer to the woman than the treats she brought. She pointed into the box, pointing out the different flavors. But before anyone could reach inside, she offered them some advice.

"We made them with pot butter," Dylan explained with a laugh. "So just be aware that if you eat one, you're gonna be high for the rest of the afternoon."

What the woman intended as a polite warning caused a small stampede instead. Jax whacked at Opie's chest before he darted in to grab one of the treats before they were all gone. And Opie shrugged and followed after him, not wanting to be left out of the fun. He had the advantage of being tall enough to lean over the rest of them. But as he was reaching in, Juice knocked into the prospect. And since the blow sent the kid flailing into the pinup model in their midst, Opie could only guess that Juice slammed into him on purpose. Dylan squeaked, stumbling forward until she collided with Opie's chest. He caught her, holding her carefully against him to keep her from being further mauled by the pack of roving hyenas that were his friends and club members. She was close enough to him that he could smell her expensive perfume. The sweet feminine aroma of it was mixed with the smell of leather and road dust from her ride over. The combination was intoxicating. Opie took a deep breath in, unable to remember the last time he was close to someone that smelled that good.

"Back the fuck off!," Clay hollered, his voice loud and booming enough to get most of them moving back the way they came. "Were you born in a fucking barn?," he added, clearly unimpressed with their sudden childish behavior.

"Actually," Half-Sack announced. "I was born in a pole barn!"

"No one wants to hear about it!," Clay barked, gesturing for the young man to vacate the area before he got a boot straight up his ass.

Jax laughed as he licked chocolate frosting off his fingers. And Opie looked down, realizing he still had his arms wrapped around the woman of his every masturbatory fantasy. He expected her to jerk away from him. But she just stared up at him with a twinkle in her big blue eyes and her hands resting lightly on his waist. It wasn't until he felt his dick starting to go hard against the zipper of his pants that he finally let her go. Opie leaned to his left, grabbing a treat from the box before Clay snapped the lid shut.

"Stay the hell out of it," he warned. "I'm taking the rest home for Gemma."

Opie found a stool to sit on as he ate his vanilla frosted cupcake. There was an aftertaste of something herby. But it didn't really taste or smell like weed. And he didn't feel like he was getting high. Opie shrugged it off and sipped on a beer as Jury led Clay and Dylan over to a table in the back corner where they could talk without being overheard by everyone in the clubhouse. Opie couldn't hear what they were saying. But he assumed whatever talk they were having was going well. Because he saw a lot of head nodding and smiling between the three of them.

With two different clubs visiting and most of the Devil's Tribe members in attendance, the clubhouse soon filled with the hum of conversation and laughter. The hosting group was obviously familiar with the women that were visiting. Because the girls were laughing and joking with them like they were all old friends. Opie's brothers had to work a little to get in on the action. As the rest of them started making conversation attempts, Bobby plopped down on the stool next to Opie, nursing a jack and coke.

"What'dya think of that big woman?," he asked, his eyes lingering on the extremely tall blonde that was keeping an eye on the table where Dylan was sitting. She had an intensely serious expression on her face. But apparently her somber appearance wasn't enough to deter Bobby. "I've never been with a woman that big," he added, his eyes lingering on her long legs.

Not waiting on a response from Opie, Bobby got up and approached the woman, leaning against the wall as he looked up at her. Opie couldn't hear what he was saying over the rest of the laughter and assorted conversation. But whatever it was, the woman was staring down at Bobby with her face twisted up like she smelled something foul. Opie probably would have laughed at the situation even under normal circumstances. The height difference between them was comical in and of itself. But he found himself laughing harder than he meant to, almost like something was tickling him from the inside out. Maybe there was a little something in that cupcake after all, he thought.

Bobby was clearly striking out. But Tig and Juice seemed to be making a little more headway. They challenged two of the girls to a game of pool. And they were losing. Opie guessed that was intentional, so they'd be able to demand a rematch. Either way, the four of them were all smiling and laughing like they were having fun. These girls weren't the usual croweaters and strippers the guys were used to bedding. If they wanted these girls, it was going to take some actual effort on their part. And even then it might not happen.

Opie tipped his beer up, drinking down the last few swallows. He smiled as he looked around the place, unable to remember the last time he was actually able to relax. In lockup, he had to constantly watch his back to keep himself from being jumped. And he came home to a wholly different kind of tension. He was constantly on edge there as well, trying to anticipate what mood his wife might be in. His kids barely remembered him. And they were scared of him. Opie hoped his home life would eventually return to some form of normalcy. But at the moment, everyone in his house was miserable. Including him.

Opie spun his stool around, nodding gratefully to the woman that was working the bar when she handed him another mug of beer. She didn't come in with the biker girls, which made her one of Jury's girls. She was petite with dark hair. And might have reminded him a bit of his wife except she was smiling at him instead of looking like she was ready to cry or start screaming.

"Do you have any bottled beer back there?"

Opie turned towards the woman's voice. And when he saw who it was, he realized that Clay and Dylan must have finished their negotiations. Because she was the one leaning over the bar next to him to grab the beer Jury's girl was handing her. After she thanked the woman, Opie expected Dylan to head back the way she came. But she lowered herself down onto the barstool next to him instead. She was sitting in the opposite direction, facing outward from the bar and she leaned back against it. Condensation was already building up on the dark glass of her beer bottle. And when she brought the bottle to her lips, Opie couldn't help but wish he was her beer.

Opie wasn't sure if he was more stoned or more drunk. But either way his inhibitions were low enough that he didn't care if Dylan knew he was looking at her. Her blonde hair fell down around her shoulders in tousled waves. And the little black strappy top she was wearing put her ample cleavage on full display. She wasn't covered in tattoos the way a lot of biker girls were. But she had Danger Dolls, the name of her club, and their insignia inked on her right arm. And since he'd seen pictures of her with a lot less clothes on, Opie knew there were a few more tattoos that weren't currently visible. His personal favorite was the one that was under the waistband of her pants. In small even script, it said 'danger ahead' right above her perfectly rounded ass.

"I heard you just got sprung," she said, her rings clicking against the glass of her beer bottle as she lifted it to take a sip. "How long were you in for?"

Opie took another hard swig of his beer before he answered. He knew some guys felt like doing a little hard time gave them bragging rights. But he was more embarrassed by his new felonious status.

"Five years," he admitted.

Dylan crossed her legs, letting her one heeled boot bob slightly in the air as she turned her body slightly towards his. She met his gaze and held it until the tension between them grew heated. Then she lowered her eyes, trailing them down over his body.

"Been laid yet?," she asked, flashing him a flirtatious smile before she took another sip of her beer.

Opie's eyes widened. He wasn't sure if she was actually hitting on him or just making conversation. But either way, he figured he better put a stop to it before all the blood from his head drained down directly into his growing erection.

"Yep," he replied, popping the p on the end of the word. "...by my wife."

Opie's mention of his better half sent the woman next to him off into a tirade of high pitched giggles. And though he tried not to think about it, she was even prettier when she smiled. Once her laughter was under control, Dylan leaned back against the bar. She pinned her beer bottle between her knees and lifted her arms above her head to stretch her back out. The movement made the hemline of her tiny tank top ruck up, revealing a sliver of her tanned and toned stomach. Reaching for her beer, she glanced over at Opie as she took another drink.

"Married sex huh?," she teased. "I bet it was super hot. You were gone for five looong years. Did she cry during? Or did she wait until after you came to turn on the waterworks?"

As she waited for his answer, Dylan reached across the small space between them and set the hand she wasn't using to hold her beer on Opie's knee. Her touch was so light he could barely feel it through the thick denim. His head was swimming. And before he thought it through, he answered her question in a soft breathy whisper.

"Both."

Donna cried while they were having sex. And after. And she hadn't come near him since. The kids slept in bed with her, leaving Opie to either try squeezing his giant body in next to them or take himself out to sofa city.

Dylan moved her hand, rubbing her manicured fingers in soft circles as her touch crept slowly up the inside of his thigh. She stopped just short of his crotch, leaving her hand on his muscular thigh as she flashed him another flirty smile.

"If you take me somewhere private, one of us might cry. But it sure as fuck won't be me."

Opie raked his eyes over her again, trying to convince himself that what he was about to do was a terribly awful idea. But it was impossible to think clearly with her hand that close to his dick. And whatever was in that fucking cupcake he ate was making him extra sensitive to her touch. There might be no need for privacy. Because if Dylan moved her hand any closer, He was going to come right there in his pants.

There was no doubt in Opie's mind that he wanted this woman more than he'd ever wanted anything in his life. He wanted her bad enough that his desire was overriding the voice in his head that was telling him he was a shit person to do this to Donna after she stayed loyal to him for the last five years. He was also self aware enough to realize that this was a once in a lifetime opportunity. At least for him. He wasn't Jax. If Opie turned her down, there were not ten more hot model biker girls lining up to take her place in his bed. And there were his friends to think about. If he turned down the chance to fuck Dylan Danger, he was going to hear about it for the rest of his natural born life. And not only that, but if Opie didn't bed her he knew there was a chance she might bed someone else from the club instead. Thinking about that possibility was what propelled him up off his barstool.

Opie took the beer bottle from her before he placed his hands on the edge of the bar, one on each side of Dylan so she was caged between his muscular arms. She wasn't as tall as he imagined she might be when he looked at her pictures. But despite the obvious size difference between them, she didn't seem nervous to have him in her personal space. On the contrary, she was still acting as the aggressor of the little encounter they were having. Dylan parted her thighs and grabbed him by the shirt, pulling his body forward until she was able to wrap her legs around him. By this time, their interaction had attracted the attention of not only his brothers but of Dylan's friends as well. And when Opie dipped his head down and kissed her, it was to a chorus of laughter and catcalls.

The noise blurred into the background as her soft lips touched his. She tasted even better than she smelled. And when she parted his lips with her tongue he couldn't help the low rumbling groan that escaped from between his lips. She was the one to break the kiss, turning her head and tucking her face into the crook of his neck.

"I'm gonna fuck your brains out," Dylan whispered, nipping at his ear as her warm breath ghosted over the sensitive skin behind it. Opie muttered a few obscenities under his breath. And then he lifted her into his arms and headed for the back of the clubhouse.