Page 74 of Chaos & Carnage
Cade shrugged. “I just assumed you would have seen the similarities.”
“Similarities? One is a policeman who upholds the law, and another is a biker who…” I stopped there, realising I was just about to offend Cade and everyone in his club.
“Who breaks the law?” He grinned at me.
“That wasn’t what I was going to say.”
“Yeah, it was,” he laughed, scooting off the bed and standing behind me. “You think we’re all criminals, huh?”
“No. I mean, the other night. I watched you beat the shit out of someone. You and Caleb.”
Cade swiped the hair from my neck, smoothing it over my shoulder.
“No one touches my girl, Alice. Only me.” His breath tickled my neck, his fingers swiping under the thick jumper I wore, nothing else on underneath apart from a pair of knickers.
My pussy jolted at his touch, at the way the rough pads of his fingertips grazed at my skin, my body reacting to every movement, his hand sinking lower till those rough pads eased under the lace, cupping around in front of me. I stepped a little wider, letting him access me. Needing him, using him as a distraction like I had done every night since the break-in at the vets. His fingers stroked over my folds, searching. Smoothing my wetness against me. And then, when he’d coated enough of himself in my juices, he slowly slid inside me.
“Keep your eyes open, Al,” he whispered in my ear. “Watch me make you come on my fingers.”
He moved his fingers in and out, pulling at already sore tissues, creating a delicious searing heat deep within me. His thumb circled my clit. I bit my lip, watching myself in the mirror. My cheeks flushed, and when I breathed out my teeth let go, my lips parting into the tiniest of ‘o’s. Cade watched, his chin resting on my shoulder, his fingers moving faster. Torturing my insides with a combination of slow and long pulses and he circled them, hitting a spot that sent my legs shaking.
“Shit,” I whispered.
“Keep watching, Al. Keep watching me fuck you.”
His thumb pulsed and rubbed, and in the mirror, I watched his hand moving in my knickers, building something intensely powerful deep inside my core. Then, with a nip of his teeth on my neck and the gentlest suck over that same spot, my body convulsed around him. I gasped loudly, sinking my weight into his hand as I lost all control over my body and my orgasm.
*****
Beside me, in front of me, behind me, bikes roared. We rode in formation, two abreast, the throaty growls from the engines deafening and the vibrations becoming painful. My arms clung tightly around Cade’s waist. We were a couple of rows back from the front, Indie riding out at the top alone, other than the woman at his back. Behind him everyone else followed in twos, some with women, others by themselves. I couldn’t count how many bikes there were.
We’d set off from the Northern Kings’ clubhouse, two clubs riding together as one. The others didn’t wear a back patch, just an embroidered badge on the front of their jackets, over where their hearts would be. They’d joined us at the back, riding in the same way, their president riding alongside the man they called Reap and joining the two clubs together.
We hadn’t reached the A1 motorway when another load of bikers joined us from a sweeping slip road. They came at us from the left. The same bikes. The same formation. The same roars as if they were riding a herd of dragons. And now the noise was insane. The rumbling incessant, the power of every one of those motorbikes formidable.
The enormous group of bikes rode on and on. Housing estates and muddy fields giving way to a hilly ascent as we turned west. Fields turned to moorland, soft grasses left behind as spiky tufts of fern and reeds and the grungy browns of heather littered the land. And then we climbed even higher, the air changing, freezing cold tendrils creeping inside my helmet and the thick black bike leathers Cade had bought for me. I shivered behind Cade, the blood peeling back from my finger ends, and he reached behind him and patted my leg. Like that might make me feel better.
The world flew past on either side of us until hills surrounded us. The snowline was low, a white covering on their peaks making the top of them blend into the thick covering of clouds that had gathered above us like an omen. We gathered too, behind trucks and cars, overtaking in batches each time oncoming traffic would allow. And on and on we went until I thought I might just fall off the side as I turned into a block of ice. The only thing that kept me from falling into a hypothermic sleep were the deep vibrations of the engine, resonating over the top of me, inside me, all over me and I was sure my frozen fingers would turn into tiny shattered bones at any minute.
At the point I didn’t think I could take any more of the cold, at the point when my teeth were chattering so badly, I thought they’d break off in my mouth; we pulled off the road. The new road dropped down a hill, trees and bushes on either side offering shelter from the bitter conditions on the A66. And down and down we went, passing a little village, the sparsity of houses changing and now there was a hint of civilisation every mile, then every few metres and then, finally, an actual town. But we didn’t stop there, passing through and climbing out the other side, leaving the promise of warmth and coffee behind us. And now I needed a wee. Badly.
I peeked around the side of Cade, at the soft folds of hills and the intermittent balls of white as sheep broke up the dull green of grass not quite in full growth. The road climbed steeply in front of us; the summit of a giant hill not even visible from down here. Red lights glowed on the bikes in front, the roar changing from angry to a bemoaning grumble, our speed pulling back too, and now we filtered off down a single track. We coursed on for a while, dry stone wall, fern and sheep our only scenery, until a copse of trees engulfed us, throwing us into sudden darkness as we drove through them.
As the trees cleared, the scenery changed, a huge field covered in tents. They nestled in groups, flags flying over the top like some sort of confederate encampment. In the background, huge marquees reared up into the sky. I counted five from where I sat behind Cade at the bottom of the hill.
Cade patted my leg, something like reassurance, and the bikes moved carefully onto the field, picking their way over small reedy clumps and muddied bike tracks. A couple of bikes in front of us slipped, their back ends sliding sideways, and I clamped my arms around Cade’s waist, concentrating only on his jacket, at the embroidered pattern on the back. We were there in minutes, sliding and coasting all the way to the brow of the little hill, riding over the top and pulling over to the side where bikes circled a space.
We spilled into the space, bikes and more bikes driving in and then splitting off into clusters. All the Kings to the right, the Angel and Demon riders to the left, and the group with the lightning bolt over the picture of the Tyne Bridge filling the space that was left.
The engines of the bikes cut off, a low rumble staying in my ears, a residue of vibrations and the threat of tinnitus. Cade moved his left leg and carefully edged the bike onto the left-hand side, sliding out from underneath me. He tugged off his helmet first, floppy tufts of blond hair falling at angles, his eyes alive like I’d never seen them, ever. Full of a brightness, a raw passion and the deep thrum of satisfaction all rolled into one. He spoke to someone behind him, in a voice too low for me to hear over the ringing in my ears, and then he turned back to me, holding out his hand. Thick, gloved fingers clamped round my wrist, supporting my weight as I climbed stiffly off the bike. My legs were heavy, like a spinal block just wearing off, and what feeling left in my feet was spinning into the red-hot tingling pain of pins and needles.
“You cold, Al?” Cade asked, when a shiver wracked through me.
“Freezing,” I muttered.
“I’ll get the tent up and our things in.”
“I really need a coffee or something.”