Zephyr Chapter 2
The run from Asgard to the territory of our fellow Prowlers in Hatchet Hallow, Georgia, took several hours.
Our buyer was located off the eastern coast of Georgia, not far from Savannah and our fellow Prowlers there.
He knew and trusted very few people, and Raider was one of them.
That was why the Georgia chapters hadn’t handled the delivery themselves, and we couldn’t hand it off to them to complete.
However, they were willing to assist us in guarding the transport until it reached our buyer’s hands.
We didn’t all ride alongside the truck, making it obvious to even idiots that there was something important inside.
A transport truck with the name Valhalla Caskets on the side didn’t attract undue scrutiny on its own.
What we did was have a couple of brothers within striking distance of the truck, riding their bikes.
The rest, who were along and not in the truck or on the bikes, were in regular vehicles.
We kept our cuts out of sight. Not only did we avoid attracting attention, but we stayed off the radar of other MCs.
Riding in another MC’s territory could get one killed.
Invader drove the truck, and Berserker rode shotgun. Plunderer rode in the back of the truck with the coffins. Spoiler, Pirate, and I rode in another vehicle, and those on bikes were from the Hatchet Hallow chapter.
Overall, we made good time. We didn’t stop unless we absolutely had to, which helped.
The traffic was congested at times, but we made it past those choke points and kept moving.
The rest of the club, including Raider, was back home.
There was still work to be done, and no way would we leave our compound unprotected.
The hyperalertness wore on you over time, so by the time we reached our drop-off point, we were all worn out.
If we had to, we would’ve turned around and ridden the seven-plus hours back to Asgard, but we didn’t do that.
Instead, we went back to the compound with the Hatchet Hallow guys, and they hosted us for the night.
Not only did we have a bed to sleep in, but we had beer to drink and some ladies to have a good time with.
They had their club sluts, what we called Hóror, whores, at our chapter, out in full force. After a long ride, it was good to blow off stress by fucking one or two of them. And since we were rarely here, they were a whole new crop.
Now, being bikers and Vikings on top of it, the idea that we’d be total barbarians, without regard for what a woman wanted, would be logical.
And I wasn’t saying it didn’t go on with the other clubs.
What I knew was that in ours and our other one in Alabama, the women were always there by choice.
No one kidnapped or forced them to service us.
And even though they were expected to sleep with whoever wanted them if they were an actual club hóra, whore, they could say no and leave at any time.
We’d seen too much during our time with Aksel to want to act the way he had.
Hell, we knew wherever the motherfucker was in the US, he and his followers were most likely behaving the same heinous way.
It was one reason our skirmishes with them got bloody whenever we ran into each other.
Too bad, no matter how badly hurt they got, we couldn’t kill them.
But then, they couldn’t kill us, either.
What I wouldn’t give to be able to murder those fuckers.
My mood darkened as I thought about Aksel.
Fortunately, a pretty brunette came over to me and offered herself, taking my mind off him.
She didn’t bother to say her name. She just dropped to her knees between my legs.
I was sitting on one of the couches. I watched as her hands went to my belt, undid it, then carefully unzipped my jeans.
My cock was barely getting with the program, but her reaction and words hurried that process along.
“God, I knew you’d be big. I heard them say your road name is Zephyr. I like it. And I love your hair. I hoped you wouldn’t be taken by anyone else. I’m gonna make you feel so good.”
Her fist pumped the base of my cock, helping me harden, not that I needed it. I wasn’t drunk, so no worries about whiskey dick.
Before she went further, I asked, “What’s your name? Are you here voluntarily? If not, you can tell me.”
She gave me a startled look, then smiled. “I’m here because I love bikers and like to fuck. No one is forcing me to do anything. As for my name, you can call me Lovely.”
“Alright, Lovely, show me what you can do,” I enticed.
My cock was fully erect and raring to go.
Her pretty dark hair was pulled back into a high ponytail.
Gripping me tightly, but not too tightly, she lowered her head and swirled her tongue around the head of my cock.
It felt okay. Next, she kissed and licked her way down my length to my sac, where she sucked each nut into her mouth and thrashed it around gently before letting go.
She didn’t linger long before making her way to the head of my cock, and this time, she sucked it into her mouth.
Once inside, she got down to real business.
Her sucking, lightly scraping teeth, and fluttering tongue were applied to as much of my cock as she could get in her mouth.
She gagged when I hit the back of her throat, but she didn’t stop and slowly raised back up.
A few times of that, and I was ready to see if she could take more.
I grabbed her ponytail, and when she went down on me again, I held her there and muttered, “Tap my leg if it’s too much. Can you take more?”
Lovely tried, and she did a good job of making me feel good, but she wasn’t the best I’d ever had. It took her a good twenty minutes to get me to blow because I had control over my orgasms. When I finally blew, she greedily swallowed my load.
After I had finished, she sat back on her heels and wiped her mouth on her palm. She smiled at me, then stood and sat on the arm of the couch next to me.
“I can stay with you tonight. Once you have time to recover, we can have even more fun.”
I smiled as I shook my head. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m ready to sleep, and I don’t allow anyone in the room with me when I do. Thank you for sucking me off. I’m sure there are plenty of takers who’ll let you warm their beds tonight. If you want some relief, I’ll—”
I didn’t get to finish my offer because Lovely, or whatever her name was, jumped to her feet. Her face turned red as she jammed her fists onto her hips, her eyes flashing with anger.
“I can’t believe you! I give you head, and you refuse the rest. What kind of man are you? I’ll have you know, every other guy in here will fight to have me. You must be a one-timer. Pathetic. I don’t need you to get me off.”
She stomped off in a huff. Those close enough to hear her gave me puzzled or concerned looks. I ignored them and took a drink of my warm beer, then put myself back in my jeans. By the time I had finished covering myself, Spoiler came over and sat next to me.
“Having trouble with the ladies, Z?” she asked, sounding amused.
“No, but she has a problem with me. I passed on more, and she took it the wrong way,” I explained.
“Do you want me to go find her and teach her some manners? I know you’re not into hitting women, but I am.”
Spoiler’s grin made me chuckle. I leaned over and kissed her on the forehead.
“I know you are. No need to do that. What about you? No one here that trips your trigger?” I asked as I gestured to the room.
Spoiler and Slayer were less obvious about their sexual encounters at home.
By unspoken agreement, though there was no rule against it, neither of them had slept with any of their club brothers.
However, when at another chapter, on a run, or at a rally, they had occasionally been known to partake.
I wasn’t sure whether they had men they went to in town. That was their private business.
“Nah, not tonight. I was thinking of heading to bed. We have a long ride tomorrow,” she replied.
I finished the last bit of beer and then nodded.
“I was thinking the same thing. Let’s go.”
I stood, and the two of us called out our goodnights. I tossed my beer bottle. As Spoiler and I left the room, I saw Lovely glaring at me. I ignored her shit. A yawn made my jaw crack.
?
It had been six days since the gun run to Georgia. Raider had called Fate, the Georgia president, and thanked him for the assistance and the hospitality. Raider extended an invitation to stop by if they were in the neighborhood, or to call him if they needed anything.
Since then, it has been business as usual for most of us. I’d been at the funeral home/mortuary. I oversaw its running with help from Slayer and Icelander. According to my fellow Prowlers, I ended up doing the job because of my skills as a medic.
Yeah, their explanation was screwy. I wasn’t using my abilities to help anyone.
The people I met were already dead, but I was used to bodies in various conditions.
And even though we employed an actual mortician to do the embalming and shit, I took care of the day-to-day running of it and had no trouble dealing with mangled bodies.
Slayer joined me because she was great with hair and makeup, so she would ensure the bodies were made presentable for their family and friends.
Icelander had volunteered to help with whatever was needed.
It could vary from digging graves to handling bodies to whatever else needed to be done, or whatever caught his interest.