Swerve Chapter 5
The past month has been nonstop for me. The project at my main job was still in progress, but we were coming into the home stretch, so there were fewer design requests and changes.
We still had work to do, but I believed the most challenging part was behind us.
That was one of the contributing factors that made it a crazy month.
Another was spending time working on Recovery’s books and other tasks.
A few times, I worked remotely rather than at the office.
When I couldn’t do that, I was in the office, but often behind closed doors.
I only saw or spoke to Annette, Electra, or anyone else who might be there if they needed me or I had something to discuss with them.
Was I so busy with Recovery work that it required me to lock myself away? The answer was no. I did it to shield myself from Electra, who was doing an outstanding job. My load was more than half done by her. I felt guilty about it, but she seemed to be thriving and kept asking for more to do.
I was shielding myself because the attraction I felt for her the first time we met hadn’t waned.
It had grown worse. I tried to psych myself into forgetting it by repeatedly telling myself she was a work colleague and that was forbidden, even though it wasn’t officially.
It was discouraged if you were just looking for a fuck buddy.
When that failed, I tried being away from the office as much as possible—another failure.
I would think about her no matter where I was or what time of day it was.
Whenever I was in the office, I tried to put her strictly in the work zone by being extra polite and reserved with her.
I treated her differently from the others, mostly Annette, the club members, the old ladies, and even the residents.
There was no way Electra didn’t notice, yet she remained silent about it and was unfailingly friendly and wonderful to me.
Her love affair with Dozer was a full-blown thing.
She was spoiling him, and it was more than Annette did.
Electra wasn’t trying to show up Annette, but I noted how it upset our receptionist. It was evident by her expression the day Electra brought Dozer a supposedly indestructible rabbit.
Around its neck was a collar that read, For Electra’s Boyfriend.
We’d all laughed. Annette hadn’t. It didn’t help matters that Dozer loved it and often carried it around. This meant my jealousy of my dog grew.
Today, I went to the office, and it was the last straw for me.
Electra came in dressed slightly differently.
She had on her customary jeans and boots, but these jeans seemed to cling to her legs and ass more than the other ones.
She wore a top that I considered more revealing, even though she wasn’t letting her breasts hang out.
Her jewelry was more pronounced, and she wore makeup that was darker and more eye-catching than usual.
When Annette asked why she was dressed up, Electra had smiled and told her she had a dinner date.
Hearing that she was going out on a date made my possessiveness increase.
I had no rights over her, but I had to stop myself from demanding to know the name of the man she was having dinner with and from asking if they were involved or planning to be.
Would she invite him to her place after dinner, or would he invite her to his place, and they’d top off their evening with sex?
The thought of her fucking another guy made me want to tear shit up. I spent most of the day locked in my office so I wouldn’t make a damn fool of myself. When the workday was over, I got out of there before anyone else. I roared off with one objective in mind.
I went home, showered, and got myself spiffed up. I was going to the Horsemen’s clubhouse tonight. It was Friday, and everyone would blow off a lot of steam. The women and sluts would be there in full force. The busiest days for them were on Friday and Saturday nights.
I planned to stay the night at the clubhouse in my crash room so I could drink as much as I wanted.
I would see if one of the club sluts or hangers would suck me off or even let me fuck her.
Hell, maybe more than one. I was so sexually frustrated that I was ready to lose it.
Over a year was too long. I didn’t like the idea, but it was the only option I had these days.
Looking for a hookup—even if it was meaningless on the outside—led to meeting too many questionable people with unknown or weird motives.
I’d been pleasuring myself most nights, which was highly increased from what it was for the last fourteen years.
Sure, I got hard. Sometimes it came out of nowhere.
Most of the time, I had to think about it and do some preparation.
Since meeting Electra, I have found myself growing hard without much thought and at inconvenient times.
I would go to bed, start thinking or dreaming of her, and the next thing I knew, I was stiff and aching.
I’d have to give myself a hand job, but even after I came, I sometimes remained hard and had to go again.
I refused to attribute it to Electra. Something had changed in my body.
I hadn’t gone to the doctor to ask for tests to be done, but I was proving that theory tonight.
The women at the club would show me that it was a coincidence that my increased libido happened right after I met Electra. It was all a fluke.
I grinned when I pulled into my dedicated parking spot at the clubhouse.
The club initially put up a sign that read, Wheelchair or Spaceship Parking Only.
After I was patched in, they changed it to Swerve & Dozer’s Crash Site.
I flipped them off for it and grumbled, but it was all for show. I loved it.
Parking my bike, I went through my dismounting process. As usual, Dozer patiently waited. He was scanning the area, no doubt looking for Fenrir, Jaycee, or Isis. He knew that when we were here, he was allowed to be less vigilant and didn’t need to be at my side constantly. It gave him a good break.
Finally, we were making our way inside. I was capable of opening the door, but after I was hurt, the club retrofitted the main outer doors of the clubhouse with buttons to push to open them.
It was the same kind you saw in stores. Dozer walked up and nudged it with his nose, activating it.
I grinned every time I saw him do it. Then he moved back to allow me to enter first. I swear, he made my life so much easier.
It was eight o’clock. Everyone had time to get home, eat, get cleaned up, and so on.
The common area was filled with my brothers.
My name was called out by several, and I received nods, smiles, chin lifts, and waves.
I returned them. I noticed that Paige and Jauhnna were here.
They were at a table toward a corner where it was quieter, though not by much.
We were a loud, rowdy bunch. I didn’t see Chasin with his mom.
A quick scan found him being held—aka corralled—by his dad.
Diablo was toting him around the room with him.
Luckily, Chasin seemed to find stopping to converse with so many people entertaining for now.
Chasin wanted to be able to get down and run like his big sister, Jaycee, but he needed more supervision than she did.
I looked for Fenrir to be with Jaycee and Isis, though I knew Fenrir would keep going to check that Paige was alright.
However, I was wrong. Fenrir was at Paige’s feet, and he wasn’t moving.
“Dozer, play,” I told mine, so he would know he was fine to leave me. He gave me the once-over, then looped over to Fenrir. I figured that would get Paige’s dog up and moving, but other than raising his head, he stayed put. What was up with him?
I began to head over to my friend when Cowboy waylaid me.
He was considered a newer brother even though he patched in four years ago.
Unlike many clubs, we didn’t constantly have prospects joining.
And when they did, Diablo made them go through two rigorous years of it.
Many either quit or were sent packing during that process.
Even though Scorpion and I had done it differently—helping before we were eighteen with some things, and then for the four years we attended college—it’d been protracted, but we’d been made to do everything the others did.
There was no exception or easy course just because we were legacies.
Some whined and complained about everything.
Others shied away from the dirty work and passed it on to the other prospects.
We all watched and had a say on whether they continued to the end or were sent packing during those two years.
Ultimately, everyone had to agree for you to be voted in.
More than a few had gone away upset, but that was on them.
Cowboy yanked me from my trip down memory lane. “I haven’t seen you at the stables lately. The horses are missin’ ya, Whiskey in particular. Are ya no longer comin’ to ride?”
He was right. It had been too long since I’d been to the stables.
Our club was somewhat unique in that we had both live and metal horses.
Cowboy, before he decided to retire and join a motorcycle club, had been a rodeo star.
He’d grown up with horses and kept several throughout his rodeo career.
His one concern when he asked to prospect was neglecting his horses.
He’d been clear that he had to have time every day to care for them at a nearby stable where he boarded them.