Just Ride: Legion of Guardians

A
ZINA MEDIA PUBLICATIONS

237 Flatbush Avenue, #187 Brooklyn, NY 11217

This is an original publication of AZINA MEDIA PUBLICATIONS.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

Copyright © 2016 AZINA MEDIA PUBLICATIONS

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A
ll rights reserved
.

K
ylie
:

It was a perfect night. I was riding that stallion like no other. Gripping it tightly, my friends cheered me on as I twisted and twirled around the big brown beast.

Granted it was mechanical, but I owned that machine. My tightly coiled thighs were burning to stay on the bull and my chest pumped with adrenaline that I could actually make it because I practiced. Not on a bull, but on a few good men, back in my road days.

The countdown music had begun over the country tune that played loudly in the background.

“Kylie! Kylie!” they chanted.

It seemed like everybody was cheering for me to win. The other two women before me had taken some nasty falls, but it was my first weekend back in the sleepy town of Manor, Pennsylvania. I had never planned to return, but once I did, I caught up with Lori and Shay for a girls’ night out. Well, they caught up with me, since I was camped out at my mother’s house, and daddy dearest had yet to discover that I was back in town.

My mom was diagnosed with cancer and needed additional help. She was actually too proud to tell me she was sick, but once I pieced everything together, she swore me to secrecy. Nobody else was to know, especially my dad. They had been divorced for nearly eight years, and I swear all of the emotions and feelings they felt towards each other still remained, even after my mom walked out on him. A woman just doesn’t walk out on the mayor of a town and think there would be no backlash.

Susan O. Rutgers knew there could be consequences, but she was a political machine in her own right. She was intelligent and sassy; she taught me to be the same. Her personnel team created a campaign that kept her out of town for months at a time. When my parents decided to divorce, her spin team went into action and expressed that “due to irreconcilable differences and their individual work schedules, Mayor and Mrs. Rutgers wanted to focus on their political duties and raise their two daughters.” They separated for a year and finalized the divorce shortly after. My mom was from Manor and kept her corporate job in the large town. My dad was the mayor of Millersville, a small town next to Manor and about an hour’s drive away.

Phillip Mills, my dad, would not dare taint my mom’s image of the former, yet very proper socialite because he knew how voracious she could be. My dad was no one’s fool. Susan would eat him alive and for retribution pay him back for old and new. That was the Rutgers way, even to the point of never admitting defeat or failure; hence, why I was not to breathe a word about mom being sick.

My own sister Sheryl didn’t even know. She had moved away after college and never really came back. She married her college sweetheart, and they moved to his hometown of Orlando right after mom and dad divorced. We rarely talked, but after I told her I was no longer on tour, she finally agreed to let her son stay with me for a week. Mom and Dad always chalked up her indifference with the family due to their divorce. I just thought she had a life of her own that she wanted to be present for. The same was for me when I was on the road. I didn’t talk much to anyone besides Shay.

“Kylie! Kylie!” they continued to chant.

My feet were secured in the stirrups on the sides of the mechanical bull, and I had a tight grip on the worn leather straps. Those upper body workouts were really paying off, and Ricky would be really proud of me for holding my own with the stubborn, meant–to-throw-your-ass-to-the-ground bull.

There was one last hard jerk and after twirling my hips around to taunt the crowd, the bull came to a slow stop. Everyone chanted and called my name.

“Kylie! Kylie!”

The good news was at thirty-two years of age, I still had it: my figure, my stamina, and my fight. The bad news was that before the night was over, the mayor of the Millersville would know that I was in town. “Oh my God, girl! I cannot believe you just survived that. Every woman for the past three weekends hadn’t lasted thirty seconds on that thing!” Lori exclaimed.

“Yes, hon-ney!” Shay was shaking her head. “You got that. I’m not getting my ass on there. A concussion is not in my future.”

Taking the cold water bottle from Lori, I shook my head. “I see not much has changed. You are always thinking about the worst-case scenarios.”

“Somebody need to.” Shay nodded her head in agreement with her worrisome tendencies.

I had on a white tank top and the pool of perspiration drenching my back was never a sexy look. Therefore, I stood in front of the large industrial fan to cool off as my blond hair began to fly all over the place.

Shay looked up towards the door and said, “I’ll be right back,” as she quickly walked towards the bathroom stalls.

“I’m going to get some drinks. Do you want your usual?” Lori asked.

“No, I’ll take a Sprite tonight.” I needed to be nice and sober, just in case mom was not feeling well later.

Lori nodded and moved towards the bustling bar. She would be awhile because she never spoke up or used her sex appeal to get the bartender’s attention. That was fine by me because before I did another line dance or decided to climb my ass on another bull, I needed to cool off.

“See, you can hold your own on a machine,” a raspy voice whispered close to me.

My entire body came to attention, as I not only heard the words spoken near my ear but felt them pour over my skin. Slowly turning my head, I was met with piercing grey eyes that penetrated through me like a bolt of lightning. His face was chiseled like that of a fine work of art. He had sharp facial features and high cheek bones that any female model would kill for. That salt and pepper goatee promised wicked things along with the mischievous smirk on his gorgeous face. His hair was pulled back into a ponytail, which only emphasized his face even more.

Damn
!

“Makes a man wonder if you can hold your own on just about anything,” the handsome stranger smirked even deeper.

My eyes perused his body from head to toe. The sexy as sin man wore jeans that were sculpted to his legs as if they were custom-made, worn, but expensive-looking biker boots, and a fitted black t-shirt that I did
not
want to rip off and explore. Peaking underneath were the wing tips of a tattoo at the top of his chest. His attire was completed with a black leather cut, but I could not read the name of the club that was etched in dark thread because he had a shirt draped over his shoulder, which displayed only a letter.

Back in the day, I used to know all of the clubs, but since I’ve been away, I was too far removed to know one MC from another. I just knew they wore leather cuts.

My mouth was slightly parted as this man really did take my breath away. He not only smelled good, but he looked ten times better than his heavenly scent. Today would be the day that I didn’t wear a bra, but as I slowly perused his body, my nipples hardened to well-defined nubs. Those piercing eyes moved from my face to my chest and the smirk morphed into a smile.

“What you say, sweetheart?” He finished.

The fan had my hair flying all around like medusa’s tentacles. The sexy biker moved from his place beside me to now in front of me. He then raised his hand to subdue my curls, but I gripped his wrist before he could succeed.

One eyebrow rose when he asked, “Well?”

“
Well
,” I finally spoke. “I
don’t
fuck bikers.”

I let his arm go and walked towards the bar to join Lori without looking back.

“Was that who I thought it was?” Lori asked.

“I have no idea who that was.” I kept my back to him.

“That's Razor!” Lori yelled/whispered over the rambunctious bar area.

“And,” I sang with my eyebrows raised. “Should I know him?”

Lori looked up in the air in thought. “Well, I guess not. He’s from Columbia, and I think he came right after you left eleven years ago.”

“Okay?” I asked again, not connecting the dots as to why he was important besides being so fucking gorgeous.

“He’s the regional leader for the Legion of Guardians MC.” Lori schooled as if it would click as to why the man was relevant. “O.M.G. What did he say to you? All the women want him and, believe me, he gets his fair share. Shit, anyone he wants, he gets. He usually steers clear of women younger than him, but he looked like he wanted a piece of you.”

“Legion? That sounds demonic,” I mused.

“Naw, not the Bible version of legions, but the Webster’s version. It means many. Like a lot of them. They have members, honorary members, secret members and people all over the world. There are so many types of members too. They aren't all everyday bikers; you know? Some of them have nine-to-fives and other shit. That's how they work. They've been around since ’71, but Razor was called in to clean up this region because the local chapters were going to shit.”

“You sound like a fan.” I took a sip of my Sprite. “What the meaning of their emblem?”

Lori blushed and took a sip of her signature Long Island Ice tea. “I guess I am. One of their members, I absolutely love. Nothing has happened between us, but I swear he's mine. So stay away from Apollo.”

I sat my cup of soda on the bar and looked at my longtime friend. Lori being attracted to anyone was a major surprise. We always thought she would go into a convent or something. So for her to be in love, while it sounded crazy, I was happy to hear that. Shit, I'd try to get them together myself.

“Okay, okay.” I held my hands up in the air. “I will steer clear of him and anyone in that group. No worries here.”

“What?!” She exclaimed. “You haven’t seen them? I haven't met a guardian who’s
not
gorgeous. Some are already taken or married, and I don't know if it's the biker appeal or what, but the ones I've seen are hot as hell.”

I couldn't argue with that, because Razor, or whatever his name was,
was
hot.

Someone touched my hip, causing me to whirl around. It was Shay smiling gleefully and looking a little frazzled.

“Where you been?” I asked.

Shay simply smiled, as Lori said, “With her boo, and she refuses to tell me who he is.”

“Are you serious?” I crossed my arms. “How long has this been going on?”

“About two months.” Shay smiled with an ‘I just got fucked’ look.

Looking at my friends, I realized how long it's been, and it hit me just how beautiful they really were. Lori had long dark hair with small, tanned freckles sprinkled on her cheeks. She was shorter than me, but only by a few inches. She was also slightly curvier than me with C-cups, fuller hips, and a nice little rump. If she had a lisp, Lori could pass for Drew Barrymore.

Shay was definitely an exotic beauty. Her clear terra cotta skin tone always had guys pawing over her. Her hair was long and flowing, and Shay spent meticulous time doing it every day, because according to her, she did not believe in perms. People always asked her if she was related to Aaliyah, the singer, because she resembled her so much. At first, Shay thought it was a compliment, but after years of constantly hearing it, she said it became annoying and that she was just Shay. Only Shay. Well, Sharon was her name, but she preferred Shay. We weren’t friends at first because she didn't give a fuck if I was a mayor’s daughter or not. She challenged me one day in school during our group time. My answer was incorrect but everybody agreed with me for some dumb ass reason, except for Shay. After our glaring session, she explained why, I agreed and we became inseparable from that day forward. Even after I moved, we always stayed in touch.

“So, explain,” I nudged her. “How does this work?”

“Well, we meet, hook up, then we both leave satisfied. Besides that, there isn’t much to tell.” Shay shrugged her shoulders.

Lori rolled her eyes then landed on me, “See what I’m talking about. Two months and she won’t even share. Bitch.”

“Damn Shay. You have Lori calling you names now?”

Shay laughed out loud, causing the attention of several patrons, including the bartender.

“Refill?” The blue-eyed man asked Lori from the other side of the bar.

She smiled and then nodded her head. I nudged Shay with my arm and whispered, “Are you really not going to share?”

She blinked up at me with those naturally long eyelashes and said, “It’s not that type of party. No one knows and that’s the game.”

“Okay, Shay.” I nodded. “I’ll give you that, but when that game is over.” I pointed to her, “You’ll need to share.”

“You got it,” she smiled.

“Anyway, as I was saying,” Lori chimed back in after sipping her drink, “Shay, Kylie was just sharing what Razor said to her.”

Shay’s eyes went wide as her mouth parted slightly. “Razor said something to you?”

“Not really. Just observing my riding skills and being a pervert.” It was time for
me
to shrug my shoulders.

“Giirrll,” Shay sang. “Razor is hot as shit. He doesn’t usually go for the young ones, but if he’s offering a ride, and I were you, I’d take it.”

“No, I’m good.” I shook my head.

“What did you say to him?” Lori asked.

“Told him, I don’t fuck bikers.”

“What!” Lori and Shay gasped simultaneously.

“You heard me.”

“What did he say?” Lori said.

“I don’t know. Don’t care either. I walked over here.”

Shay looked around the bar, and after not finding what she was looking for, she turned to me, “Girl, you still crazy as shit. Fucking turning down Razor. There are women in here that would cut your ass to get at him.”

“It ain’t that serious.”

“The fuck it ain’t. Lori is head over heels in love with Apollo. We hang out with them all the time and if we hanging, you hanging. So, it’s kind of a big thing. These bikers might be guardians and shit, but they are some bad ass motherfuckers. They’re good guys, but still.”

Lori nodded her head.

“Okay, but I still don’t fuck bikers.”

“What has a biker done to you?” Shay asked sincerely.

“I got enough to deal with than some vigilante dudes fucking anything that moves, spreading their royal oats, and riding away into the sunset on two wheels, leaving hearts broken and tears flowing. I have no time for bikers and definitely no time for bikers named Razor.”