3. Sara #2
"You ready?" He ran his length through my wetness, teasing my entrance but not pushing in yet.
"Yes," I whimpered and pushed back against him. "Please."
When he finally sank into me, all I could do was groan, and it came in unison with his voice. He gave me a second to adjust and then started moving, quickly building to a hard rhythm. The angle had him hitting deep and clawed at the metal ring on top of the flour barrel to hold on to something.
"You feel so good." His fingers dug into my hips on one side, while his other hand came down in a hard crack on the other. I whimpered and clenched without thinking, and he growled, "God, I love feeling you squeeze my dick."
His thrusts were so hard, I could feel it in my gut, so deep, his dick hit my cervix and I saw stars. It was so intense, I had to grit my teeth to avoid being too loud, and when his finger found my clit and started to rub, I lost it again.
This time, my hips writhed and made it hard for him to keep pace. His body ground into mine over and over while I spasmed and rocked my hips, and when warmth flooded my insides, I heard his tiny grunt of satisfaction and felt him slowing.
He glided in and out of me a few more times and then pulled out, leaving me draped over the barrel with his cum draining down my leg and a giddy grin on my face. He zipped up and then walked back over to me, kissing my cheek lightly and helping me to my feet.
I pulled my shirt back on and smoothed my hair down, then slid into my pants while Garret stood waiting for me, and I told myself if I didn't say it now, I never would.
"You remember," I said as I buttoned my jeans and stepped into my ballet flats at the same time, "the day we met?"
Garret leaned against the old barrel with the heel of one hand planted on the rim and his eyes fixed on me as he swiped through his beard. "Yeah… I was sort of surprised we had the same stress relief."
Smiling, I shrugged one shoulder and walked over to him, resting my head on his chest and wrapping my arms around him.
He let his drape around me too, and for a split second I remembered how much older than me he was.
Old enough by far to be my father, though Dad was older still.
It almost made me want to pull back and not say a thing because of the stigma, but love was love.
We deserved a chance as much as any other couple deemed "normal" by society's standards.
"You were skipping rocks right where Daddy showed me the best spot on the whole river, and I came to do the same thing."
"And you laughed at how horrible I was." Garret chuckled and kissed the top of my head in a move not uncommon, but when I looked up at him, he stiffened and his shoulders squared.
He looked like he wanted to protest what I was about to say or throw down a roadblock to my fond memory, and I knew it was just fear about what people would say. So I spat out my truth.
"I want to tell my parents about us," I said before he could protest. "Together. I think it's time."
"Sara…" he said as his shoulders deflated and his head dropped. He pushed off the barrel and stood, forcing me backward gently.
"I know what you're going to say."
"Then why bring this up and ruin a good thing?" He scowled and moved toward the door, but I was frantic to get in front of him. "We said this was just a fling from the beginning… No catching feelings."
"It crossed that line a long time ago, and I think you know that.
" I folded my arms over my chest and refused to let him see me get discouraged.
"You know this is way more than sex. And plenty of men in the club have women, Garret.
It's not like you have to be single." Every excuse he'd given me about not having a girlfriend revolved around that club, and while I wasn't dumb enough to tell him I wanted him to leave the club to make anything better, I also knew it wasn't against the rules.
"It's not the right time," he said. "The club needs me focused right now and I can't have?—"
"Don't do that," I said. "Don't give me the club… Give me the real reason." Tears burned behind my eyes, but I blinked them back. I was sad, not angry, but I let anger be my edge to help me avoid crying.
Garret balled up his fists and clenched his jaw as he looked away from me.
I really thought I had a shot at convincing him that I wanted more, that we could be more, but he wasn't budging.
I didn't know if it was because I was so young or if it was because my father hated bikers.
Either way, there was always a risk that this would happen if I brought this up.
"Say something," I said quietly, but Garret shook his head and bared his teeth briefly, then let his head drop.
"No, Sara. I told you—just sex, no emotions. I can't get involved with you." He couldn't even look me in the eye when he said it, which meant he either really thought that little of me that he could use me as his blow-up doll and turn me loose, or he did care. He was just too chicken to say so.
It hurt. Really bad.
It hadn’t been that long, and some women waste years on the wrong man before they're brave enough to admit it's not working, but I wasn't like that. I wanted commitment or nothing. I didn't want to waste time on something that was fruitless and had no future, not even at my age.
"Okay," I said quietly. "Then I'm done."
"Don't be like that," he grumbled, finally looking at me. "Why are you doing this?"
"I'm not being like anything. I'm being honest with you." It hurt more than I'd prepared myself for, but I kept going because I knew I deserved better. "I'm falling in love with you, and I can't keep doing this if you won't even admit I exist outside of this shed. It's not fair to me."
"Come on. Really? You're being ridiculous…" I saw the pain in his eyes and the way he pulled back like I'd smacked him, but I did deserve better. And he knew it.
"It's over, Crank," I spat out, using his biker name like an insult, though I regretted it when it was out.
He turned away, and I heard him exhale hard through his nose, and then his hand shot out and closed around a can of green beans on the nearest shelf and the metal buckled under his grip like it was nothing before the top split open and fresh beans oozed from it.
He set it back down without looking at it and then walked to the door, and I thought for one second he was going to turn around.
But he didn't. The door swung shut behind him and I was alone with a busted can of green beans and a broken heart, all because I was foolish enough to think a man his age would be mature enough to know how to treat a woman.
God, I was so dumb to let myself get carried away emotionally.
The sex really was good, and he made me feel incredible.
And I knew no matter if it was four months or four years, at some point, I was bound to catch feelings for him because that was what happened when you got that intimate with someone sexually.
But maybe my father's warnings were right.
There was a reason those bikers had dysfunctional relationships and got into trouble all the time, and there was a perfectly good reason Garret was in his forties and not married yet, or at least attached.
I just ignored every red flag because of the chemistry we had.
Now I was left regretting it and bawling my eyes out on my break, when I should've been relaxing.
Mom would be looking for me, and if she came out here and saw those ruined green beans, I was in trouble. I'd have to toss them in the dumpster before she noticed or risk getting lectured. It wouldn't be the first time.
I mopped up my face and ran my fingers through my hair, and I was reaching for the door when I heard voices outside.
I stopped.
They were close—just around the corner by the dumpsters—and something about the pitch of them made me go still without thinking. They were hushed, but they weren't civil or friendly. It sounded like a lover's spat or something.
A woman's voice, and then a man's, and my stomach dropped the second I recognized the second one.
The man sounded exactly like Tony, otherwise known as Lightning, one of the club members.
I'd known him by reputation my whole life, though since getting to know Garret better, I'd learned more horror stories about the man.
And there wasn't a version of this where I wanted to be accidentally standing ten feet away from him in the dark.
I pressed myself against the wall and crept to the edge where I could peek out the door that stood cracked open so I could see who he was talking to.
"You need to delete every single one of those messages," Tony said. "Tonight—all of it."
"I'm not doing that." The woman stood her ground, and I watched her shove a phone into her pocket. "I should never have gotten involved with you. You're sick. I'm telling Fox everything."
I winced as she backed away, and I watched Tony's fist ball up.
"Mandy," he growled in a warning, "think very carefully about what you're saying."
"I have been thinking about it," she said. "The first time was just a mistake. Every time after that was a horrible choice, and we're done. I'm telling my husband."
"You don't just get to decide that."
"Yes, I do. It's my life and it's my marriage and Fox deserves to?—"
The gagging sound she made when he grabbed her throat made me shudder, and I watched as her feet lifted off the ground and her hands wrapped around his wrist. It scared the hell out of me and I almost screamed.
Lightning had both of his hands wrapped around her neck as the veins in his neck bulged and his face turned red. He was going to kill her.
I shoved the door open and ran, because my body made that decision before my brain could weigh in.
I darted toward the parking lot and the mass of cars.
Garret's bike was already gone and a few others were at the back of the lot near my dirtbike, which I climbed on and kickstarted faster than I ever had.
Tony was coming, stalking after me with his eyes locked on my face. He knew I saw what he was doing, but maybe my being there was what Mandy needed to get away from him. I'd drawn his attention away from her and given her a chance to get away, hopefully. But now he was pissed and coming after me.
I opened the throttle all the way and I ran, skidding across the gravel at the edge of the lot onto the street and racing down the highway.
I saw his headlight as he pulled on the highway and knew he was coming after me.
There was no way I could outrun him, either.
He'd gotten his nickname Lightning because his bike was the fastest in the club.
The only way I'd get away from him was to go off road, which my bike may do and his would fail.
My God, what just happened?
I thought breaking it off with Garret would be the worst thing to happen today, but I just witnessed attempted murder. And now I was running for my life.