5. Watcher
5
Watcher
S ometimes, you have to take a chance and see what happens when choosing between your life and someone else’s. Maybe the law finds you not guilty because of self-defense. Maybe they find you guilty because you could have run away. I don’t run, no matter what the odds are.
Unphased by the possibility of carnage, I pull my Glock and shoot each man as they come at me. Each goes down, but none are dead. I walk to the one who likes to talk too much and step on the bullet wound in his chest. He cries out like a little bitch. Aiming at his forehead, I cock the gun and wait for him to beg.
The man begs for several minutes before I step off the wound and put the Glock back in my pocket. The other men clamor back to the van and climb inside. They pull away, leaving Big Mouth to fend for himself.
“I was like you once,” I say. “All mouth and nothing to back it up. But then I changed. I found my way. I suggest you do the same. Now, get your ass up and get the fuck out of here.”
The man scrambles away, and I sit on the steps leading to the bar. She fucking walked away again. It didn’t seem to matter that I was about to save her ass…again. Time to move on. Time to check out the stepmom.
You did tell her to leave .
I wake up in a cheap motel room alone, my saddle bags on the floor while two people fuck on my TV screen. I don’t remember ordering porn before I fell asleep. Regardless, the woman on the TV is moaning like an obedient whore while being spit-roasted by two men. I watch for several minutes and then go to the bathroom for a morning piss. Back in the room, I remember Big Kentucky leaving with Diablo last night from the bar. He told me not to wait up for him and that he would meet me at the Stallion Stadium for the game. I didn’t bother him with the small details of me shooting four men.
Did I really need to go to the game today? No. But then I figured Megan Stallone would be there, and despite her old man being close, she’d let me know if she were interested. The old bastard was probably a cuck anyway. He had to know his old lady was out boning much younger cock.
I showered and spent the rest of the morning sitting on the bed reading a Stephen Hawking book after finishing Sun Tzu’s Art of War . An intelligent biker? Who would have thought it? That’s the thing with the Brothers. We’re more than a bunch of whining goons on bikes. We don’t pretend to be anything but who we really are. Like it—cool. Hate it—fuck you.
I drop the guns by the Memphis chapter for safekeeping and head to Stallion Stadium, not having a clue what to expect. A mile from the stadium, I hear police sirens and see the flashing lights in my mirror. It could be about last night, or it could be my Canadian warrants. Regardless, I pull to the roadside and watch the cruiser pass, heading for some other unlucky asshole.
Maybe Kentucky was right. Settle down with a nice old lady and live out a comfortable life. Fuck that. I pull back out onto the road, Megan Stallone on my mind, the sweet white pants she wore when I saw her yesterday, and the tight top that hugged her fake titties. Fake was okay as long as they didn’t explode while you were chewing on a nipple.
I pull to the stadium and drive around until I find the owner and player’s entrance. I park my bike where I shouldn’t and climb off. Megan’s Mercedes is parked close to the entrance. It’s going to be a good day.
Security sees me coming and blocks the entrance.
“I was invited by the man himself,” I say. “Now, move your ass.”
The man, as big as me but much uglier, makes a call and then steps aside. I go through the metal detector, and the dame thing buzzes. The two security guards jump like scared bitches when I remove the Glock from my back waistband.
“You can’t take that inside,” the guy says.
“No shit.” I hand him the gun, and he places it in a nearby safe. “I have a legal permit for that. Don’t lose it.”
“Take the elevator to the penthouse suite. Mr. Stallone isn’t going to be here today. He’s not feeling well, but his wife, Megan, is up there waiting.”
Sometimes, the biker gods shine down on you, and all you can do is offer praise. I step onto the elevator and enjoy the slow ride skyward. Me and Megan. Hell, maybe she has her little Mercedes friend with her, and we can make it a threesome.
I exit the elevator when it stops and another security guard is waiting. He pats me down and then sends me down the hall to a private room. I open the door, and there sits Megan, alone, with no Jessica or Mercedes friend.
“Who the fuck are you?” she says and stands so quickly that she spills her wine on her white shorts. “Motherfucker!”
“Names Watcher. Your husband invited me to watch the game.” I grab a hand towel from the sink by the door and try to help. She knocks my hand away as if I were trying to violate her. “Fine.”
I take a front-row seat in a plush leather chair and feel as if I’m being sucked into luxury. I push a button on the arm of the chair, and a gentle vibration hits my legs, ass, and back.
“They didn’t tell me you were a biker.” Megan returns with a drink and sits, leaving an empty chair between us. Her legs are long, lightly tan, and would look gorgeous around my waist. “You the one who saved that little brat’s ass?”
“That would be me.” I glance back at the door and see she closed it before joining me. “How’s that old man treating you?”
“Gives me everything but dick,” she says with a serious face. She finishes the drink in her hand and smiles. “You were at the gas station yesterday when Winnie and I were harassed by those three bikers.”
“I was watching,” I say.
“That why they call you Watcher?” She turns in the chair and unbuttons another button on her shirt. I can see cleavage, and I don’t mind her seeing me gawk. She looks down at her shirt. “I guess that’s why.”
“I don’t mind watching a beautiful woman,” I say. “Especially if she has something I want.”
“Do I have something you want?” Her smile changes from bright to seductive. “I believe I do.”
“Mr. Stallone probably wouldn’t like you fucking around.” I get up, walk around the room, grab a beer from the bar, and sit beside Megan. She smells fucking delicious. I put the beer in the cup holder and rest my arm on the armrest between us.
“Jack knows I mess around. As long as I please him when he needs me to, he doesn’t care what I do in my spare time.” She puts her hand on my arm and runs her fingers over the ink on my left forearm. Every man wants a woman who knows what she wants. It’s obvious why old Jackie-boy keeps her around.
She uncrosses her legs, and I move my hand between them, pressing firmly against her crotch. She squeezes my arm, and then it’s on.
When our lips come together, Megan pushes a button on the chair, and a tinted window comes down in front of the suite.
“We can see out, but they can’t see in,” she says.
I move from the seat and get on my knees between her legs. She watches me with inquisitive green eyes, hooking her thumbs along her shorts’ waistband. She pushes the shorts to her knees, and I take over from there, pulling them down to her ankles. She’s wearing white panties, lace around the edges, satin covering her pussy. The satin grows darker as I kiss up her legs from knees to thighs, switching back and forth between legs, watching her lust-filled eyes.
Megan releases her shirt’s remaining three buttons and unclasps her bra, wonderfully round titties with large, suckable nipples falling free. Keeping my eyes trained on Megan’s, the lids fluttering like a butterfly taking flight, I push the soaked satin aside and reveal the sweetest-looking pussy I’ve ever gone down on. The lips are perfectly smooth and glimmer when I push them apart, revealing a swollen and pierced clit.
I move Megan’s legs over the arms of the chairs, opening her up, her asshole now in view. I give the asshole a couple of licks, and it tightens as Megan rolls her head back. The stadium crowd erupts in cheer, and although I know they can’t see us, I imagine them cheering me on.
I ease a finger into Megan’s wet hole, averting my eyes from hers, now closed, to my fingers in and out movement. Megan moans and both her pussy and asshole tighten. She takes a deep breath and tries to relax. She only accomplishes that for a few seconds, her body squirming when I insert my tongue between her lips, teasing clit and piercing with my tongue.
Megan’s movements take only a few seconds to get in rhythm with mine, her gentle breaths fleeting, her body shuddering like a gentle wind. She whimpers above a heavy chest, and when she climaxes, a steady stream of tasty come assaults my tongue.
I lap her up like a thirsty dog at its water bowl, not stopping until I know she’s finished. Megan opens her eyes and looks down at me, spent and satisfied.
“I think it’s my turn,” she whispers.
“I think you’re right.” I stand to unzip my pants and see Jessica standing in the open doorway.
Megan sees me staring and stands. She smirks at Jessica and pulls her shorts up.
“Fucking asshole,” Jessica says and leaves the room, slamming the door.
I’m not sure which asshole she is referring to, but I zip my jeans and run from the room, trying to catch her. I see her step onto the elevator, and she turns to see me coming. She flips the bird as the doors close.
“Fuck!”
“Let her go,” Megan says. “She’s young enough to be your kid.”
“And I’m old enough not to act like one.” I take the stairs to the left, reeling not just from seeing Jessica but me calling myself a kid. What the fuck?
I get to the bottom of the stairs as the elevator doors are closing, and Jessica is gone.
Security tries to give me my gun, but I run past them and out to the parking lot, where I do find Jessica. She has a knife in her hand, and my bike has two flat tires.
“What the fuck did you do that for?”
“Seriously?” She stabs the leather seat and cuts.
I approach the bike, and she points the knife at me. Security comes out, but they have their arms crossed and smiles on their faces.
“She said your father didn’t care!”
“Are you fucking kidding me? You believed that little whore?” She throws the knife at me, and the handle glances off my forearm. “I came down here to say I’m sorry for being a brat and to thank you for saving my life multiple times. And I walk in on you eating my stepmother’s pussy!”
“It’s not what it looked like.” That sounded fucking dumb as shit.
“Unbelievable. You weren’t fucking eating a chilidog!”
Big Kentucky rides up and parks next to my bike. He looks at the pissed-off Jessica and then my tires. When he looks over my shoulder, I turn and find Megan watching us, her arms crossed under her ample tits.
Jessica flips Megan the bird and stomps away. She climbs into her car and peels away, leaving behind skid marks and black smoke.
“I need your bike, Kentucky.”
“You need a therapist.”
“Come on, man. I need to go after her.”
Kentucky throws up his hands and climbs off his bike. “Beast is going to be all up our asses because you can’t keep your dick in your pants.”
“It wasn’t my dick, it was my tongue.” I climb on his bike and get the fuck out of the parking lot, chasing after Jessica, who has not let up on the gas.
Sometimes you just have to admit to being a fuck up. That’s me. Plain and simple. But for fuck’s sake, I had no idea she would ever consider apologizing.
I follow Jessica down a two-lane road, and she pulls over in front of an abandoned warehouse. She gets out and doesn’t wait for me to climb off the bike.
“You motherfucker.” She pokes me in the chest. “Did you fuck her? Did you?”
“No. No. Just ate her pussy.”
Jessica grits her teeth and screams. “Of all the whores you could have fucked in Memphis, you just had to go after that one!”
“Look.” I grab her arms, and she jerks away. When I climb off the bike, she starts back to her Maserati. “Jessica, wait.”
She stops and turns with her hand on the car door. “What!”
I have no idea what to say. I’d done a lot of fucked up things in life, but that was the first time a stepdaughter caught me with my tongue up her stepmother’s slit. “Have dinner with me.” The fuck did I just ask?
“Come again.” She puts a hand on her hip and releases the car door. “You expect me to have dinner with you. You’re old enough to be my daddy.”
“I saved your life. It’s the least you can do.”
“Are you serious right now?”
“You’ll have to come to Pine Bluff.”
“Arkansas?” Jessica opens her car door. I tell her the club’s address, and she leaves me standing on the side of the road.
That went over rather fucking well.
I head back to the Memphis chapter and find a new set of tires on my bike. Kentucky and I head back to Pine Bluff, the taste of Megan on my lips and Jessica on my mind.