CHEAP SMUT: Four Erotic Romance Novels (Boxed Set) (82 page)

BOOK: CHEAP SMUT: Four Erotic Romance Novels (Boxed Set)
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KARTER.
“It’s the cable that goes between the battery and the starter. It’s got an eyelet on each end, one for the battery post and one for the bolt in the starter.”

“What year?” he asked.

Are you fucking kidding me? We’ve been over this already.

I slapped my hands onto the edge of the counter. I glanced over my shoulder. Jak was wandering the showroom floor looking at the various bikes on display. I bit my lip and tried to keep from making a fool of myself by screaming at the eighteen-year-old incompetent parts salesman. I looked down at his Harley-Davidson logo tattoo on his forearm and his well-manicured fingernails. No doubt he’d never worked on his own Harley, if he even had a Harley.

“1991. Softail. Evo. 1340 cc. Battery cable from the battery to the starter,” I sighed.

He looked at the computer screen and tapped aimlessly at the keys on the keyboard. After a few moments, and without speaking, he turned and walked to the door which led to the warehouse. I stared down at my left hand and contemplated getting knuckle tattoos as I waited for him to return. As I admired my ring in the bright lighting of the store, he returned with a plastic baggy. As he tossed it on the counter, I looked down at the clear plastic wrapper. My initial relief was quickly overcome by anger as I noticed the twelve-inch-long black cable.

“What the fuck is that?” I asked as I nodded toward the baggie, “Someone else’s shit?”

“Battery cable,” he said flatly.

“Battery cable for what?” I asked as I raised the baggie in the air for him to see.

“1991 Softail Evo,” he responded.

You fucking idiot.

“Positive or negative?” I asked.

“Positive.”

I took a deep breath. As much as I didn’t want to make a scene, my voice quickly elevated as I began to speak, “What fucking color is positive? On a car, boat, bike, or even a fucking snowmobile?”

He shrugged, “Red?”

I shook my head, “That’s fucking right. Red. Now
dumbass
, what color is this?”

I raised the baggie in the air for him to see the black cable inside. Clearly it was the negative cable, and it was at least a foot too short to reach my starter.

“Black?”

I nodded my head, “It sure as fuck is. It’s black. Did you even look at this motherfucker before you tossed it in front of me?”

“Hey, you don’t have to talk to me like this,” he whined.

I pressed my hands into my back pockets, “You know what, you’re right. In fact, I don’t have to talk to you at all. Go get Kelli. I want to talk to her.”

He rolled his eyes and picked up the baggie.

“I’m serious. Get Kelli,” I demanded.

He turned toward the door leading into the warehouse. As he began to walk away, I tilted my head back and looked up at the structure of the ceiling.

“Kelli!” My voice echoed through the showroom as I screamed.

As I stood at the parts counter waiting, I turned toward the showroom floor. Jak stood talking to one of the sales staff beside a new Harley bagger. As our eyes met he smiled, undoubtedly about my having screamed. By now he had to know I was a very vocal person. In turning back toward the counter, I heard Kelli’s very familiar voice.

“Karter!” I heard her screech as she stepped out of her office and into the customer area.

“You’re
always
in here. What are you doing?” she asked as she leaned into me and hugged me lightly.

One thing about owning a Harley is the fact they always need worked on. Sooner or later, they’ll break down and need repairs. Harley aficionados know the value in using Harley-Davidson parts on their Harley’s. And the only place to go get original Harley parts is at the Harley dealer. Wichita had only one Harley dealer, and although it used to be run by a bunch of shit-heads, Kelli’s father bought the dealer and gave it to her and her husband. After they took over, things changed drastically. The dealer was now run by bikers who rode, knew Harley’s in and out, and were all around good people. Kelli was the president and owner. She and I got along from the day we first met.

“I’m always in here because my shit’s always broke down,” I smiled and paused, “who’s this dumb fuck parts kid? What is he, sixteen?”

Kelli shook her head, “He’s Derek’s nephew.”

“The Bone?” I asked.

Kelli nodded her head.

“Well he’s a good solid guy, but his nephew’s a fucking idiot. I need a starter cable and he brought me a negative ground cable. Where’s Teddy or Jake?” I asked.

She looked down at her watch, “Teddy should be back in like ten minutes.”

  “I don’t know where the dumb fuck kid went. I’ll just wait for my man Teddy,” I grinned.

Teddy was as big as Jak plus thirty pounds. He had a full beard, arms as big as my legs, and a massive chest. He was built like an old school pro wrestler and was as nice as anyone I’d ever met. He had a gravelly voice and talked in almost a southern slang. Seeing him was always a pleasure of mine when I came in and he helped me. Having him assist me instead of the incompetent piece of shit who was trying would possibly make my day a little more enjoyable. Teddy always had at least one story to tell, and they were always funny.

“Okay. Well, it was nice seeing you, Karter,” Kelli smiled.

“Same to ya,” I grinned.

Kelli was beautiful and had jet black hair. She was tiny and very quiet. She married another member of the club who everyone said used to be a doctor. He didn’t look like a doctor, he looked like a biker. I’d seen him around, and at a few poker runs, as their club had a tremendous presence at all of the local poker runs. He seemed nice, and he was good to Kelli, but I didn’t personally trust him. Something about him just seemed off. My guess was that he was mean in private and nice in public. I guessed as long as Kelli was happy with him that was all that mattered. I turned from the counter and walked toward where Jak stood.

“Karter, I want you to meet Steve. His dad was a SEAL. He died about the time I went into the Navy,” Jak said as soon as I approached.

“Steve, this is my fiancé, Karter,” Jak smiled as he pointed to the salesman.

“Nice to meet you. Sorry about your father,” I nodded.

The salesman nodded in return and shook my hand, “I’ve seen you around a few times. I’m not here much, only in shitty weather and in the winter. You’re hard to miss with all the tats.”

“Yeah, the tats and the ‘tude,” I laughed.

“You found Kelli?” he asked.

I nodded, “I’m waiting on Teddy to get back from lunch.”

I turned from the salesman to Jak, “You mind waiting for another fifteen minutes?”

Jak shook his head, “No. as a matter of fact, I was thinking about riding this bike.”

“Say again?” I chuckled.

I couldn’t believe my ears. Before he had a chance to respond, I excitedly blurted out another question, “Why?”

The thought of being able to ride with Jak was beyond exciting to me. I had purchased the motorcycle from my mother when I was fifteen. It had been in her garage as long as I could remember. She had told me she got a really good deal on it when I was a kid, and had kept it in hopes of someday having a boy. She never had another child, and when I turned fifteen I bought it for five hundred bucks. I studied on the internet, read repair manuals, and repaired it myself. Two summers later, I had the awful green paint job repainted to black. I’d never ridden with anyone else, but always wanted to. The thought of being able to share something I held as sacred as riding excited me to no end. Hell, I’d even teach him to ride.

“Well, I thought we could ride together,” he shrugged.

“Fuck yeah we can,” I squealed.

I glanced back and forth between the salesman and Jak. It was so exciting to think of Jak on a bike. I wanted him to hop on it, ride it, and buy it. I leaned between Jak and the salesman and wrapped my arms around Jak. As he hugged me, I raised my mouth to his ear.

“I thought you hated bikes. Do you know how to ride?” I whispered.

He nodded his head, “I used to ride. I always loved it,” he whispered in return.

You cocksucker, I can’t believe you kept this from me.

“Seriously?” I said softly.

He nodded his head and kissed me lightly.

“I’ll be right back, I’m going to grab the keys,” Steve said.

“Alright,” Jak responded as he released me.

“You fucker. You ride?” I gasped.

“I used to. I had a friend who was killed on one, so I stopped. I just came to the realization it wasn’t anyone’s fault but his. He’d been drinking and he was speeding,” he said softly.

“I’m sorry about your friend, but you’re right. Alcohol and bikes,” I paused and shook my head, “that’s a bad mix.”

“Sure is,” he responded.

“So, seriously, you’re going to ride it?”

He nodded his head eagerly.

Holy fuck. Jak on a bike.

I looked at the black Street Glide. It was gorgeous. Thinking of riding together began to excite me greatly. Riding on the back of Jak’s bagger would be a blast. The thought of holding on to him with the wind in our faces and Jak wearing a wife beater and his boots…

Rollin’ sex.

“Karter, you little fucker,” I heard Teddy scream across the showroom floor.

I turned to toward the parts department. Teddy stood on the other side of the counter waving his arms like an idiot. I turned to face Jak and grinned.

Shit, I’m soaked.

“Shit, Jak,” I sighed.

“Is there a problem?” he asked.

“Not with him, no. That’s Teddy, he’s cool. The problem,” I paused, looked down at my crotch, and nodded my head once.

Jak looked down at the floor and slowly up and into my eyes. His eyes widened and he raised his eyebrows in wonder.

“My pussy,” I sighed.

“Oh, did you start your period?” he whispered.

“No I didn’t start my period, dork. Thinking about you on a bike made me wet. Stick your hand in here,” I said as I pulled the waist of my jeans away from my stomach.

Jak looked around the dealership and down at the waist of my jeans.

Oh fuck yes, I was totally kidding, but do it.

Do it.

Stick your hand in my pants. 

“I can’t. Not in here,” he whispered.

You big pussy.

I shook my head and released the waist of my jeans. I raised my index finger between us and used my smart assed voice, “You might be big, and you might buy a bike, but you’ve got a ways to go to be
a biker
.”

That ought to do it.

In some instantaneous SEAL judo move, he snatched me from my feet and tossed me to the side and onto the seat of the bike he was looking at. My ass landed perfectly onto the oversized leather seat. As he held me by the front of my shirt with one hand, he stuck his other hand into the front of my pants. I leaned back into the seat, closed my eyes, and arched my back. As he slid his finger into my pussy, I shivered and almost knocked the bike over.

He pressed his finger deep into me and curled it upward.

Oh God, my g-spot.

He pressed it even deeper and curled the tip of his finger into my g-spot again. I opened my eyes, stared up at him, and bit my lip.

One more of those, and I’ll cum.

“One more,” I whispered.

He shook his head and smiled. Slowly, he pulled his hand from my pants and raised his soaked finger to his mouth. As his lips parted, he closed his eyes.

Do it, fuck yes. That’s fucking hot.

He slid his pussy soaked finger into his mouth and sucked on it.

“You’re a dick,” I said as I stood from the seat.

He smiled and nodded, “I can be.”

“I almost came,” I sighed.

He grinned, “I know. You’re weak, Karter.”

“Weak for you.
I hate you
,” I whispered jokingly and I rearranged my jeans.

“Karter!” Teddy screamed.

“I better go get my cable,” I sighed.

“Looks like it,” Jak chuckled.

“Be right back,” I smiled as I turned toward the parts department.

Teddy stood beside the counter with his forearms leaning on the outer edge of the top. His arms were as big if not bigger than my legs, and his forearms were equally as large. As I walked up to the counter, he raised his right hand, opened it, and flattened his palm. I did the same with mine and slapped his open hand. Immediately, he made a fist. I did the same and pounded mine against his.

Every time he greeted me, it was with the same handshake.

“Little Karter. How’s that Evo?” he growled.

“Be better if I had a positive cable for it. Battery to starter,” I responded.

“1991?” he asked.

“Good memory,” I nodded.

“Well, it’s pretty fuckin’ easy. You’re the only tattooed supermodel who rides an Evo Softail. Be right back,” he said as he turned toward the warehouse.

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