When she got home, Ben was sitting on the steps to her apartment.
He spotted her and stood up.
“I was looking for your car.”
“It’s at the bar.
I walked home.”
“I can see that,” he said.
“Listen, I didn’t want to leave things like we did last night.
I’m not sure what happened, but I like you too much, and I like this thing we have going on between us, whatever it is.
If you want more, we can talk about it.”
“Shut up, Ben.” she snapped.
Danni calmed herself.
Just like last night, that same irritation was coming back and she was directing it at him.
“Sorry.
I didn’t mean to say that.
No, I don’t want a relationship.
I don’t know what I want.
If you can’t deal with that, then we can go our separate ways.
I mean that. It’ll be OK.”
“Maybe tomorrow,” he said.
“I don’t want to leave tonight.”
Danni wasn’t sure if she wanted Ben to stay, but that urge to not be alone was stronger than ever.
She grabbed Ben’s hand and led him upstairs.
As soon as the door was shut behind them, he was tearing her jacket off.
Ben ran his hands over Danni’s breasts, feeling her nipples, which had instantly hardened under her tank top.
She felt it in the exciting tingle somewhere between her belly button and the wet spot that was surely growing between her legs.
She pressed against him and felt him growing hard inside his pants.
She unbuttoned his jeans and reached inside.
She grabbed his growing penis in her hand and stroked him until he was at full mast.
He grabbed her ass, just the way he knew she liked it, and pressed her harder into him.
They kissed passionately until he pushed her down on the bed.
She landed hard and he was instantly on her, tearing her jeans down.
When they were off, he spread her legs and ran his fingers between her thighs, rubbing the soaking wet spot on her panties.
Ben pulled his pants down and his cock sprang forth.
He stroked it as she watched his hand move back and forth.
Ben pulled her panties down and tossed them to the side.
She still had her tank top on, but was completely bottomless.
He started to get on his knees to eat her pussy, but she stopped him.
“Just fuck me,” she begged.
“Just bend me over and fuck me as hard as you can.”
He did as she said.
She got on all fours with her legs spread wide.
He entered from behind, filling her pussy with his big cock.
He slammed against her, hitting her just in the right spot.
They had been together many times and Ben knew how to turn her on, but something was off that night.
His hands on her ass, his penis inside her—it wasn’t working.
She closed her eyes and thought of Mercer.
She imagined it was him behind her, slamming into her.
She thought of him, erect and wanting her, and taking her.
Danni got so wet it started dripping down her legs.
She reached down and touched herself, working her folds.
“Pull my hair,” she ordered.
Ben complied, but she imagined Mercer doing it; grabbing a fistful of her long hair and pulling back as he pushed into her with his big cock.
She moved her fingers back and forth, working herself, and came hard with the image of Mercer in her head.
She cried out as Ben pulled out and sprayed hot semen all over her back.
It was a big load.
He must have been just as turned on as she was, though certainly not for the same reasons.
“Wow, that was different,” said Ben.
“Good, I mean, very good, but different.”
Danni grabbed an old towel from the hamper and wiped off her back, then got her underwear back on.
She grabbed a cigarette from the same pack Ben had left and lit it up.
“I was wondering where I left these,” Ben said, grabbing one for himself.
Danni exhaled smoke. “I thought you were going to Nashville today.”
He hesitated. “Oh yeah, that got pushed back.
It happens that way sometimes.”
Caught in a lie, she thought.
There was no Nashville trip, he had just wanted to get away the night before.
She thought he’d make some excuse to get away that night, which was fine with her.
She didn’t want to make small talk with Ben. She was too busy thinking of Mercer.
M
ercer sat in bed smoking, not wanting to get up, even though he was hungry.
He was alone and he liked it.
Since leaving his MC he had woken up each morning knowing he had to take off. Now that he’d decided to stick around for a few days, it was relaxing just to lie in bed without needing to leave town.
He wondered if Doc was going to call him again this morning, but it was unlikely.
If Tank, the so-called president of the Black Ice MC, knew they were in contact, he’d probably kill Doc.
He would have to choose his moments carefully to call, and then erase any evidence of the call on his phone.
It hadn’t always been like that.
When Mercer joined the MC, it was a family.
A rough family of criminals, yes, but a family.
In the MC he found the camaraderie and brotherhood he had been missing since Specs was killed.
They looked out for each other, protected each other, and their community.
Henry, the former president of the gang, was like a father to him.
He taught Mercer the value of others and working towards something when he needed it the most.
Mercer joined up with Black Ice when he was twenty.
He had left Calumet when he was 18 and had been riding solo for two years on his old Honda 500.
Working in some places before moving on, stealing whatever he could.
After Specs died, he didn’t want to be close to anyone ever again, not even Danni.
One night, he’d had too much to drink and started a fight with Doc.
It wasn’t much of a fight.
Doc was too good and Mercer was too drunk to do anything but scrap around.
The other members of Black Ice didn’t even join in; they just laughed as Doc pulled a few slick moves, then floored Mercer in one punch.
Henry recognized that the fight was not mean-spirited, but born out of pain and anguish.
He picked Mercer up off the floor and took him back to their clubhouse to sleep it off.
In the morning, Mercer wondered where he was and why he had a black eye.
Henry showed him around the clubhouse and the town.
He put Mercer to work in the auto shop the club owned, and eventually Mercer started to settle down.
After a year of working in the shop, he decided he was tired of being on the outside looking in and asked to join Black Ice.
He was voted in as a probationary member. That next year was the hardest and best year of Mercer’s life.
He was given every single scut job they could think of.
Cleaning toilets, babysitting the members’ kids, or picking up Old Ladies from the airport.
Whatever they could think of, they made him do it.
Mercer did it all and more without a single complaint.
He realized that earning something was far better than being handed something, so he worked hard to be a member of the club.
The day he was given his leather cut was the greatest day of his life.
He was twenty-two years old and on top of the world.
It stayed that way for six years.
As a member, he earned money from running guns, bootlegging liquor, and even extorting politicians.
The Black Ice Motorcycle Club were criminals and outlaws, but they served their community.
They didn’t allow drugs in schools and their streets were safe.
While the rest of the world went to hell, people in their town felt safe.
Then Henry got sick and it all changed.
He was diagnosed with cancer last year and had to reduce his role in the club.
That was when Tank started to change things.
He had been a good and loyal vice president to Henry, but Mercer found out he’d been biding his time until the club was under his control.
He started demanding a higher percentage of the take.
Instead of letting the club vote on issues, he started handing out orders.
He became less of a president and more of dictator.
When Henry finally succumbed to the cancer and died, Tank was bringing in more money than the club had ever seen by allowing drug dealers to operate within the town limits. With that money, he bought support from most of the club.
There were twelve club members, and seven of them voted in Tank full-time as president.
For the five that voted against him, life became difficult.
Tank did everything he could to drive them out of the club.
Two of them outright quit, and one, Billy, ended up getting run over by a cement mixer on a rainy night.
Supposedly by accident, but Mercer wasn’t buying it.
Neither was Doc.
That’s when Mercer knew he was out.
He knew the Black Ice Motorcycle Club wasn’t his club anymore.
It belonged to Tank and there was no room left for him.
He hatched his plan to steal the money and split.
He begged Doc to come with him.
With that money, they could start their own club somewhere far away and do it right, just like Henry had taught them.
Doc wouldn’t budge, though.
Said he had Black Ice in his veins and nothing would stop that.
He said you can’t fix something by running away, but Mercer knew enough to realize when something can’t be fixed.
That was how Mercer ended up back in Calumet and back in Danni’s life.
He stubbed out his cigarette and laid back on the pillow.
Danielle “Danni” Endris, the girl he had wanted so badly in high school.
But he had stepped aside and let his best friend win the day.
That was OK with him.
Nothing was worth more than that friendship to him, not then and not now, but Specs had been gone a long time.
It was OK to think about her in that way now.
To think about how good she looked in those jeans and how much he had wanted to throw her on that bar last night and take her.
The picture entered his head and his hand absentmindedly went to his crotch.
He should have bent her over that bar, pulled her pants down, and done what he’d wanted to do for years now.
His cock entering her, feeling her wet warmth around him.
Spreading her legs and making her shout his name.
He was rock hard now. He took himself in his hand and stroked his shaft back and forth.
A naked Danni was front and center in his mind, right there in the hotel room with him.
He spread his legs and thought of her lowering herself down between them, taking his thick member in her mouth and wrapping her lips around it.
He imagined her tongue sliding back and forth while her hand cupped his balls.
He stroked faster, thinking of her tits bouncing up and down as her head bobbed.
His penis twitched and he came thinking about her, shooting his load all over his stomach and chest.
That was enough to get him out of bed and in the shower.
He washed the semen off in a cold spray.
He preferred a cold shower, it helped wake him up in the morning.
Once his stomach and chest were clean of his solo adventures, he used the pitiful hotel soap to lather up his hair, then used it on the rest of his body.
As his hand ran over his stomach it growled; he thought about how little he had been eating since going on the run.
His pants were falling off, and if he didn’t put a couple pounds back on, he’d have to buy a new pair of Levi’s.