A Biker Romance Page 3

  “Calvin…”

  He looks up at me with his eyes without moving his head. He keeps going, feeling that I’m so close.

  “Don’t stop, Calvin.” I sink my fingers deep into his thick, black hair, and my toes begin to curl. He knows how to handle me, remaining intense and strong, yet listening to my quivers as I become ever more sensitive.

  “I’m coming,” I gush, but he doesn’t stop. I keep coming, harder than ever before, my body soaking his hand as it pushes in and out of me. It lasts so long.

  But as his lips pull away from me, I sigh. I couldn’t take more, but somehow I still want it.

  Calvin stands up and looks into my eyes as he takes my hand and presses it against his crotch. I feel him, beneath his jeans, hard and throbbing, my eyes light up in excitement when I realise his fingers were just a taste of what was to come.

  He kisses me again and leads me into the kitchen. He undoes his belt, and I reach into his pants, stroking him and watching as his head leans back with pleasure.

  Suddenly he turns me around and pushes me against the tabletop. I hear a clink as his trousers hit the floor and our two bodies come together, our skin touching for the first time in two years.

  I can feel his excitement, it’s rubbing between my thighs, and he creeps higher and higher, teasing me while he kisses my neck.

  Then he enters me, slowly but thrusting hard each time.

  I yelp quietly.

  I haven’t been with anyone in so long. Calvin reaches deep and touches every side of me. He breathes deeply and brings his hands around me to rub my nipples between his fingers.

  His head drops onto my shoulder, and I turn to kiss him, our tongues rub each other’s, but our mouths stay open, both of us catching our breath between firm thrusts.

  He pushes harder and faster, and I have to scream, “Calvin!”

  He covers my mouth with his hands, but I lick his fingers, and he lets them slide into my mouth where I suck them and tickle them with my tongue.

  Calvin whimpers helplessly. I feel so sexy that I turn and push him towards the table. Calvin steps back with me and throws everything from the table onto the floor.

  While kissing him, I take his head in my hands and lean him back so that he’s lying naked on the wood. I climb on top of him and take him with my hand, putting him back inside me.

  I rock gently, letting my clitoris rub against his crotch, easing him in deeper and deeper until I can take all of him. I lean forward and press my hands onto his chest.

  I kiss his tattoos and continue to slide him in and out of me. I linger over my name, Nicola, tattooed just above his left nipple. He takes my hand and holds it firm against that spot.

  I ride him hard, the sweat falling from my cheeks and racing down my body, dripping from my hard nipples onto his skin. He runs his hands through my hair and pulls it back.

  “I’m so close, Nicola,” he murmurs, barely able to string his words together. His eyelashes flicker and his lips part.

  I lean over, sucking his earlobe. I haven’t forgotten his sensitive spots.

  “I want you to come,” I whisper and with a groan, Calvin grasps my hips tightly and pulls me towards him. We move together, in sync with our pleasure.

  I close my eyes, Calvin rubs my clitoris, his deep cock is almost too much to handle, but I carry on pushing, using the strength of my thick thighs.

  Calvin stiffens, I scream, and the two of us come together.

  “Nicola,” he pants. “Nicola!”

  I hold him deep inside me, as we both throb with satisfaction.

  “Calvin!” I call out.

  Chapter Eight

  The alarm startles me and my eyes sting as I adjust to the brightness seeping through the crack in the curtains. I groan.

  My head pounds and my stomach swirls round and round like an old washing machine. This is going to be one bad hangover.

  I feel around the bed, but Calvin isn’t there anymore, my heart sinks as memories of him leaving come flooding back to me.

  But the sizzling of oil that I hear in the distance and the smell of pancakes seeps under the crack in my doorframe and tells me that Calvin is still here. I sit upright.

  “Calvin?”

  “Yes, baby?”

  I exhale a little sigh of relief. I guess the pain of being left has turned me a little paranoid. I try to tell myself that this is a new chapter and that I can stop panicking.

  “What on earth are you doing out of my bed?” I call out.

  I hear him chuckle, and he walks into the bedroom still holding the frying pan. He’s wearing his boxers that wrap tightly around his legs; I glance momentarily at his manhood tucked away but still able to give me butterflies just thinking about it.

  “I owe you two years of pancakes,” he grins. I bite my lip, unable to control my excitement for the romance to come.

  “Are you going to flip the pancakes then?” I say. “I won’t be impressed unless you flip them.” Clavin rolls his eyes.

  “Didn’t anyone tell you I’m superman?” He fixates on the pan and with one hand, tosses the pancake into the air. He reaches out to catch it, but misses, the pancake falls onto the edge of my bed and then flops onto the floor.

  Calvin and I look at each other before erupting into laughter.

  “Some Superman!” I tease.

  “Come here, you!” He climbs onto the bed and begins tickling me all over. I scream with delight but pretend that I want him to stop.

  “Hold on, I don’t want to accidentally hit you with this,” he announces, holding the pan high in the air so as not to touch me with it.

  “I’ll be back in a minute with more pancakes,” he winks. I fall back onto the bed. Shit! What time is it? I’ve got work at the diner today.

  Calvin goes back into the kitchen while I rummage around the room naked, looking for my phone. I spot Calvin’s on the bedside table. I reach over and press it.

  ‘7.43 AM. OK, I need to get in the shower and go!’ Then, just underneath the numbers, I spot Rocco’s name. Eight missed calls?

  I look around the room. I listen and hear Calvin humming from the kitchen, the sound of a eggs cracking follows, and I know I’ve got time if I want. I slide open his phone and read the messages.

  Calvin, answer me.

  Zara says you left with Nicola, is she drunk or are you serious?

  Calvin, call me.

  I thought we decided you weren’t going to do this to her?

  Calvin, Dylan’s here and he’s looking for you. You need to sort out this fucking mess now. I won’t do it for you.

  Dylan knows you left with Nicola and he’s pissed. He’s threatening to tell everyone, everything.

  Nicola deserves the truth too, you know.

  I drop the phone and sit on the edge of the bed in silence. I feel the sun hitting down on my naked back, and I turn to see my pile of clothes neatly folded and left on the chair in the corner of my room. Is all of this a game to him?

  I throw on a pair of jeans and a jumper and walk into the kitchen. I try my best to fake some happiness.

  “I need to get to work now,” I tell him. He turns around from the stove and wrinkles up his face.

  “I thought we were going to have breakfast?”

  I swallow the spit gathering in my mouth.

  “Another time, yeh?” Calvin puts down the pan and walks towards me. I quickly leave the kitchen and walk into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me as fast as I can without raising suspicion.

  I don’t want him to follow me in here. He taps on the door, and I hear his head rest gently against it.

  “I’ll just get my stuff, and I’ll see you tonight?”

  I hold back the tears. “Yeh, I’ll call you later.”

  I wait for him to get dressed and walk out the door. It’s just a few minutes before he leaves. Staring back at me in the mirror is a clown.

  I’m a fool who let temptation win. I didn’t even ask the questions I needed answers to. He cracked a f
ew jokes, made me smile a couple of times and got what he wanted, without a proper apology.

  I feel like breaking down, like bursting into tears and curling up on the floor. But he’s already done that to me so many times. I have to work. I have to keep moving. I’m so ashamed.

  Chapter Nine

  “Wow, you look like you had a rough night,” Brian opens the diner door for me and wipes a lipstick smudge from the side of my face.

  “Did someone get lucky last night?”

  I don’t answer, but the stare I cast him tells him not to ask any more questions. I pick up a cloth and begin wiping down the tables, fighting to push the negative thoughts out of my mind. But it feels like a black cloud hanging over me.

  Every beat of my heart thumps with pain, I feel faint and dizzy, but the thought of eating makes me want to be sick. Somehow, time passes me by quicker than ever before, and the next time I look outside, the sun is already setting, the sky is washed with oranges and reds. They probably look beautiful.

  Although I never called, I can’t help but turn every time I hear a motorbike pass. Isn’t he even going to try?

  It’s him who hurt me, but somehow, I still want it to be him who comforts me.

  I want him to hold me in his arms and to listen to me tell him how I fell for a man like no one else before, how we came from different worlds but still connected. How he left me and broke my heart into rough shards of glass, and how I still took him back the first chance I got, thinking it was divine fate and a sign of our unconditional love.

  Really it was uncontrollable lust and too much vodka. I ride the bus home, and waiting for me outside my front door is Zara. She’s sitting on the floor, and it looks like she’s been there for some time.

  “Zara, what the hell are you doing?!” I shout as I get down from the overcrowded bus.

  She stands up. A sting of guilt hits me. How will I ever explain to her that after all her advice, after two years of crying to her that I went back to him and she was right?

  A tear rolls down my face, and as I brush it away, another falls. But she isn’t angry. She holds out her arms, and I hold out mine too. We hug tightly, our heads wrapped around each other’s necks like two swans.

  I hold her for as long as I can. I can’t bring myself to let go of her knowing that she’s all I have right now.

  “You don’t need him, Nicola,” she mumbles, her head still buried into my shoulder.

  “I feel like an idiot,” I whimper. She wraps her arms around me even tighter.

  Cuddled up on the sofa, Zara tries to make sense of everything I tell her.

  “Dylan’s going to tell everyone everything?” she repeats.

  “It has to be another woman, right? Rocco said ‘we decided we weren’t going to do this to her’ he did something bad, Zara. He did something really bad.”

  Zara takes a deep breath. “And Dylan knows?”

  I shake my head. “Do you remember how Dylan disappeared for a few weeks after Calvin left?”

  Zara nods, and I watch as her eyes think back to that moment two years ago.

  “He must have felt guilty. No wonder he’s obsessed with me, he knew what Calvin was like.”

  Zara stands up to get another drink. “We all knew what Calvin was like, Nicola. You were blind to it. But he wasn’t good for you.”

  I close my eyes. “I really thought everyone else was wrong, and that only I could see the real him.”

  Zara raises her eyebrows and tilts her head. She doesn’t need to say anymore. She knows I’ve learned my lesson.

  Chapter Ten

  “I always liked the sound of Calvin, you know?” Brian stares off into the distance as he wipes down the coffee machine.

  “Please, can we not talk about this?” I steal a marshmallow from the tub, Brain scolds me, but then reaches into the container himself and quickly shoves a marshmallow into his own mouth.

  “Imh forth he wash shoundes egshiting.” I screw up my face at him.

  “I have no idea what you just said,” I reply.

  “I said,” Brian swallows and clears his throat. “I said, I thought he sounded exciting.” I chuckle and shake my head. “Well, you would say that. You love a bad boy!” Brian snorts and then turns his head in reflection.

  “Is your friend Rocco single?”

  “Rocco isn’t gay, Brian!”

  He tuts and takes out some cleaning spray. “The good ones never are.” He pauses, looking out the window. “Now he could be gay!”

  “Who?” I reply.

  “Your friend, what’s his name, David?”

  I throw my head back and shout into the air. “Don’t tell me that Dylan is…”

  The bell rings, and Dylan walks into the diner. Brian pulls a face; I smile a little before pointing two fingers at my head and imitating a gun.

  “I’ll give you a shout before I leave, OK?”

  “OK,” I mouth back to him. I make my way over to Dylan.

  “Everything OK?” I ask with minimum enthusiasm. If there’s one person I don’t need to see, it’s Dylan. He’s most definitely here to rub last night in my face.

  Dylan shakes his head, still staring down at the table.

  “I can’t believe you slept with him.”

  “Wow!” I scoff. “That’s not exactly your business!”

  Dylan bites his lip signals for me to sit down in front of him. I take a seat and decide to hear him out.

  “So did Zara tell you?” I run my finger around the rim of the coffee pot.

  “I need you to tell him to leave.” Dylan opens his eyes wide. He’s rehearsed these lines.

  “What, Clavin? I’m not telling him to do anything. I won’t have anything more to do with him. I just want to forget this whole thing.”

  Dylan drums his fingers against the table.

  “Dylan, I know you know something. You’re probably trying to protect me, but honestly, it just makes me kind of angry. You know why he left, don’t you?”

  “He’s dangerous, alright? He doesn’t love you, he never did and someone like him, a biker who has nothing going for him, well, he’s just going to end up hurting you, again!” Dylan raises his voice; his lips tremble with anger.

  I see the vein again; it throbs hard as the blood flows through it, and I feel the room getting more and more tense.

  Brian looks over to me as he zips up his coat. I nod back at him, letting him know that I’ll finish up here tonight. He glances back at me one last time as he walks out the door.

  “Look, I don’t know what Calvin did, or said to you. But him being a biker isn’t the problem. It’s the fact that he lied.”

  Dylan laughs, and with every passing second, his attitude winds me up even more.

  “If you’re not going to tell me what you know, then you can just leave, OK? I need to clean up here.” I get up from my seat, but Dylan snatches my arm, stopping me from moving.

  “Tell. Him. To. Leave.” Every word that slithers from his lips is over-pronounced. The look in his eyes fills me with disgust. I try to prise my arm away from him.

  “He won’t listen to anyone else,” he continues. “If Calvin stays in this town, taking whatever he wants from whomever he wants, then I’ll have no choice.”

  “You’re supposed to be my friend,” I grunt, still tugging at my arm, unable to release his grasp.

  “You think I spent all these years hanging out with you, taking you to lunch, listening to your whining to be your friend? You’re delusional, Nicola.” He stands up. I step back from him, but he follows my every move.

  “If Calvin doesn’t leave this town, I’ll tell my father to arrest him. I’ll have him dig up every piece of dirt he can find on him and Rocco and all the others. A gang of numbskulls like them is bound to be hiding something.”

  I shrink away and hunch my shoulders, but Dylan keeps pushing me into the dark corner of the diner.

  “I thought that with him out of the picture, you’d finally see what you could have. The kind of ma
n you could be with. I was patient. JESUS CHRIST I WAS SO PATIENT!” I scream at Dylan’s roars.

  There’s no one around.

  Maybe I’m stronger than him. Perhaps I can get past him and out of that door.

  But he’s so full of rage; I know that he’ll put up a fight.

  “Dylan, maybe we can… try?” My eyes well up, and I hide my hands behind my back while they tremble with fear. “Calvin and I are over. I need someone else. It could be you. We could try.”

  Dylan breaths heavily, staring into my eyes, but they continue darting around the room like he’s looking for someone. He raises his hand and strikes me across the face.

  My cheek sears with pain and I fall to the floor.

  “Do you think I’m stupid, bitch?”

  “Noo, no, Dylan.”

  “It took you twenty minutes to leave with Calvin at that party. Twenty minutes to talk the panties off of you. Do you think I would want a slut like you? If I’m going to have you, I’ll take you.”

  I crawl along the floor, my feet skidding as I desperately try to reach the door. He looms over me and bends over, snatching my feet and dragging me across the floor.

  I look up at him and cry, “Dylan, no! We’re friends.” He runs his hands up my leg as I lie on the floor paralyzed but still whispering no, tears blurring my visions.

  I turn away, unable to stomach the sight of his face, smirking while his hand reaches my thigh and continues moving upwards. I steady my breathing and try to block everything out.

  Somehow, I think of Calvin. How gentle his touch felt, how much I wanted it. And now, Dylan’s hands feel rough and scratch against my skin. I just want it to stop.

  But it does.

  A short, dull thump fills the air, and Dylan’s body flops down beside me. I look up, opening one eye and it’s Calvin, reaching his hand out to me, the other shakes as it holds a baseball bat.

  I want to hold him, but my body is still in shock. I stare at him and try to speak, but when I open my mouth, only cries fall from it.

  “Calvin,” I whisper. He drops to the floor and scoops me up into his arms- the two of us sit in silence, intertwined through mind and body. As I weep, Calvin weeps too, stroking my hair quickly, yet softly.