his face as if to protect it. “Yeah, sure, man. No problem.”
Clutch let him go and the man hurried out. The outlaw came back to her with a grin on his face.
“Jesus christ,” she said.
“What? I wouldn’t have cut him.”
She didn’t believe him. And it scared her to know he was capable of such sudden and casual violence. When an undercover was outed, it never, ever ended well for them.
The door opened again, and someone started to come in but when they saw the biker standing there, grinning, a long knife in his hand, they backed out again. Clutch put the knife away then kissed her again.
“Are you afraid of me?” he said.
“Should I be?”
“Maybe. You wanna get out of here?”
She nodded.
When they came back to the booth, the waitress was laid out on the table, and Big Dave watched as Free-ball drank whiskey out of her belly button then did a bump of coke off her breast. The girl looked up at Amber, smiled and shrugged.
“Hey Ball,” Clutch said. “Let’s ride.”
“Come on dude, I’m just starting to have fun here.”
“Bring her with you then.”
“Brilliant,” Free-Ball said. “You my friend, are fucking brilliant. Hey honey you wanna go to a party?”
“Why not,” she said.
“Wait,” Big Dave said, “you can’t take all my girls. Who’s gonna run the bar?”
“You do it, Fat Man,” Free-ball said and they left.
Chapter 3
The night air was hot and dry and the wind scorched over them as the machines tore down the road, their custom exhaust pipes rumbling low and hard, rippling out far across the flat desert plain.
If the outlaws were drunk, it didn’t show in their driving. Amber didn’t like the idea of getting on the back of the bike after all that whiskey but she had no choice really. This was the best lead she’d had in two months; also the only man she’d had for that matter. She held her arms tight around Clutch’s stomach, keeping her head behind him for the most part to block the wind, enjoying the ride.
The motorcycle vibrated beneath her and she tilted her pelvis forward slightly and smiled as the sensation became more intense. The tingling spread out from between her thighs and she started to get wet again. Her hands moved down to the biker’s bulge. She cupped it and his muscled chest shook with laughter.
They pulled up to a large white house outside of town. The front yard was like a parking lot with cars and bikes everywhere, some people milling around between them. Clutch and Free-ball parked their bikes up in front of the house and they all got off.
“That was amazing,” she said.
“Was that really your first time on a bike?” Clutch said.
She nodded.
“Yeah, I could tell.” He smirked at her and she could feel her face turning red.
The whiskey and the ride over had her buzzing nicely and she wondered what the outlaw’s cock might feel like inside her.
The inside was packed with people drinking and smoking and enjoying themselves. Free-ball and the waitress took off through the crowd and Clutch led her to an empty seat on a couch in the living room.
“You want a drink?” he asked.
“I’ll take a beer.” He left to get it, leaving her alone with the throng of leathered outlaws.
On the couch across from her, a bald man with a long beard sat between two chicks sharing a joint with them. When he noticed Amber sitting there, he held the joint up offering it to her but she shook her head no and smiled. He shrugged and handed it to the girl next to him who was eye-balling Amber.
The way the girl was looking at her, she thought maybe it was a mistake not to have taken the hit. The FBI allowed agents to use drugs undercover if they had to but she’d rather be as clear-headed as possible.
Something crashed behind her and she jumped to her feet. A guy had fallen, or rather had been thrown it seemed, into a small wooden table. He and the table now laid in a broken mess on the floor and another larger guy
Clutch let him go and the man hurried out. The outlaw came back to her with a grin on his face.
“Jesus christ,” she said.
“What? I wouldn’t have cut him.”
She didn’t believe him. And it scared her to know he was capable of such sudden and casual violence. When an undercover was outed, it never, ever ended well for them.
The door opened again, and someone started to come in but when they saw the biker standing there, grinning, a long knife in his hand, they backed out again. Clutch put the knife away then kissed her again.
“Are you afraid of me?” he said.
“Should I be?”
“Maybe. You wanna get out of here?”
She nodded.
When they came back to the booth, the waitress was laid out on the table, and Big Dave watched as Free-ball drank whiskey out of her belly button then did a bump of coke off her breast. The girl looked up at Amber, smiled and shrugged.
“Hey Ball,” Clutch said. “Let’s ride.”
“Come on dude, I’m just starting to have fun here.”
“Bring her with you then.”
“Brilliant,” Free-Ball said. “You my friend, are fucking brilliant. Hey honey you wanna go to a party?”
“Why not,” she said.
“Wait,” Big Dave said, “you can’t take all my girls. Who’s gonna run the bar?”
“You do it, Fat Man,” Free-ball said and they left.
Chapter 3
The night air was hot and dry and the wind scorched over them as the machines tore down the road, their custom exhaust pipes rumbling low and hard, rippling out far across the flat desert plain.
If the outlaws were drunk, it didn’t show in their driving. Amber didn’t like the idea of getting on the back of the bike after all that whiskey but she had no choice really. This was the best lead she’d had in two months; also the only man she’d had for that matter. She held her arms tight around Clutch’s stomach, keeping her head behind him for the most part to block the wind, enjoying the ride.
The motorcycle vibrated beneath her and she tilted her pelvis forward slightly and smiled as the sensation became more intense. The tingling spread out from between her thighs and she started to get wet again. Her hands moved down to the biker’s bulge. She cupped it and his muscled chest shook with laughter.
They pulled up to a large white house outside of town. The front yard was like a parking lot with cars and bikes everywhere, some people milling around between them. Clutch and Free-ball parked their bikes up in front of the house and they all got off.
“That was amazing,” she said.
“Was that really your first time on a bike?” Clutch said.
She nodded.
“Yeah, I could tell.” He smirked at her and she could feel her face turning red.
The whiskey and the ride over had her buzzing nicely and she wondered what the outlaw’s cock might feel like inside her.
The inside was packed with people drinking and smoking and enjoying themselves. Free-ball and the waitress took off through the crowd and Clutch led her to an empty seat on a couch in the living room.
“You want a drink?” he asked.
“I’ll take a beer.” He left to get it, leaving her alone with the throng of leathered outlaws.
On the couch across from her, a bald man with a long beard sat between two chicks sharing a joint with them. When he noticed Amber sitting there, he held the joint up offering it to her but she shook her head no and smiled. He shrugged and handed it to the girl next to him who was eye-balling Amber.
The way the girl was looking at her, she thought maybe it was a mistake not to have taken the hit. The FBI allowed agents to use drugs undercover if they had to but she’d rather be as clear-headed as possible.
Something crashed behind her and she jumped to her feet. A guy had fallen, or rather had been thrown it seemed, into a small wooden table. He and the table now laid in a broken mess on the floor and another larger guy
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