Ridge Creek Read Free

sight of Hulk, I watch as his grin soon turns to a
scowl as he spots me.
    Exhausted and relieved that we are at last somewhere other
than next to a log on the side of the road, I stare tiredly at him as we roll
past.
    Gliding to a stop, Hulk flicks the stand out on his bike and
leans it over.  Slumped against his back, I hear the sound of the roller door
going down again behind me at the same time as I hear Hulk ask, “Can you get
off on your own?”
    “I honestly don’t know,” I mumble into his back, not moving.
    And I don’t.  There was a point about an hour ago where I
swear every cell in my body swelled and locked everything into place.  My whole
body is now just a constant throb with my only focus for the past hour being to
keep my feet on the foot pegs and my good arm clamped around Hulk’s waist.
    I’ve been silently chanting don’t let go, don’t fall off,
for a considerable time.
    “Pops,” I hear Hulk rumble.  “You’re gunna have to lift her
off.”
    “On it,” I hear the old man’s voice from behind me.  “Fuck
girl, are you okay?”
    Nodding silently, I try to turn my head to see him behind me
but can’t get it to move.  With big hands much stronger than they look, ‘Pops’
grasps me either side of my waist and lifts me off the back of the bike.
    Groaning in agony, me feet touch the floor and I feel my
knees crumbling as my legs try to take my weight.  More pain shoots through my
body as I feel the familiar numbing of my brain sliding into place.
    Hearing two voices grunt, “Fuck!” In unison, I once again
pass out.
     
    *****
     
    I wake up lying on my back staring at a picture of a mostly
naked woman with her legs spread wide open.  I say mostly naked because she is
still wearing a pair of killer, spiked heel, red, knee-high boots.
    This picture is on the roof above me.
    I can hear voices yelling. 
    “I told you to help her off the fuckin’ bike Pops.  Not drop
her on her ass on the concrete.” 
    I recognize Hulk’s rumble coming from my left somewhere.
    Turning my head, I see him standing just inside an open
doorway.  Catching my first real sight of him I let out a silent gasp.  Now
only wearing a tight, black short sleeved t-shirt, I can confirm that his broad is indeed all muscle.  With arms like tree trunks, each muscle appears to be
more clearly defined by the many tattoos spiraling up them towards his neck. 
He has a tribal tattoo starting behind his ear that runs down the left side of
neck.  He also has an eyebrow piercing above his left eye.
    He has shiny, raven black hair that hangs in loose waves
down to his shoulders.  He is tanned like he spends all day in the sun and my
guess he is aged in his thirties somewhere.  In profile, I can see he has a
strong square chin and heavy brow.
    Not usually one to take notice of biker men, I find myself
instantaneously converted.  I should have been paying more attention all these
years.  If these are the sorts of guys hiding under biker outfits, I’ve been
missing out.
    This is one hawt biker.
    Dragging my eyes from the visual pleasure that is ‘Hulk’, I
see Pops is standing in the doorway looking forlorn. 
    “I didn’t expect her to just drop like that.  Fuck.  It was
when I saw her arm.  That on top of her ass and back and I was afraid to
fucking touch her in case she screamed or something.”
    “You’re fucking useless,” Hulk growls as he swings back to
look at me.   I blink slowly at him and watch as he registers that I am awake. 
I register that his eyes are a bright iridescent green.
    Holy shit.
    “Why the fuck did you bring her here anyway?”  I hear
yet another voice coming from my right and I swing my head slowly to see where
it is coming from.
    My eyes catch sight of another huge hulk looking guy.  This
one has short cropped dark hair and vivid blue eyes.  He is only wearing a pair
of jeans that have not yet had their top button done up and I gasp again as I
stare at the best set of