Wheelie Read online

  She teased him like that, licking all the way down to the base and back up again, dragging her tongue around the head, and then sucking in just the tip before starting all over again. Wes’s eyes were practically rolling back in his head....it felt so fucking good. When his cock was wet from her saliva she used her hand to stroke it up and down, applying just the right amount of pressure. She’d obviously done this before, many times. She let her tongue hang out while she stroked him, slapping his hard cock into it every so often and driving him to the brink of madness.

  When he couldn’t take it any longer, he pushed her back so she was lying on the bed with her butt at the edge, and he opened the condom he was holding in his hand. She watched with her sexy green eyes as he rolled it on and then spread her legs even wider and arched her ass up off the bed. He could smell her arousal and she looked so hot. His cock ached to be inside of her. He reached down and slid his hands underneath her ass and held those plump cheeks in his hands. She wrapped her legs around him and he let his cock slide into that hot tunnel. She was so fucking wet, and her pussy wrapped itself tightly around his thick cock. He knew this was going to be quick.

  He slid in slowly and pulled back almost just as slowly...and then he slammed into her, hard. She moaned and pushed up on her elbows. She was staring at his cock as it slipped in and out of her, and that made him even hotter. He began to fuck her faster and harder. She was gripping onto him and each one of his thrusts pushed her further back onto the bed. When he started having trouble reaching her, he lifted her up and put her into the center of the bed and then climbed up next to her. He was going to shove his cock back into her, but she rolled over on her stomach and brought her knees up underneath her so she was ass-up and face down. He put his cock back in her pussy and she groaned as he began fucking her again.

  He held onto her hips and with each thrust his hips slapped into her ass. She had such a nice ass. It was big, but not fat. Firm, but still soft. Her thighs were thick, but muscular, and those gorgeous tits were just the right size for him to reach around and get a handful and squeeze as he fucked her from behind. He was moving her forward again and when they were close enough for her to reach, she put her hands out and grabbed the headboard. The sound of their panting breaths, the wooden headboard slapping against the wall and his body slamming into hers, filled the room. He was getting close to orgasm, but he wasn’t ready to stop. He slammed into her a few more times, slapping that big ass as he did, and when he knew he wasn’t going to be able to last another second, he pulled out and used one hand to flip her over.

  Wes let his eyes feast on her body. It was perfectly proportioned with full breasts, a small waist, and big hips. There wasn’t any fat or scars or blemishes on her skin that he could see...and no tattoos either. She looked like a sweet little virgin and fucked like a porn star. She had her hands up over her head, and he leaned forward and grasped them by her wrists, pressing them into the bed while he re-entered her pussy. He growled when he felt her clamp down around him again, and his holding her down seemed to excite her even more. She brought her head up and bit at his neck while he fucked her, hard.

  She looked and felt so good. Maybe something about the fact that she was forbidden fruit factored in there as well...but Wes’s senses were overstimulated and he couldn’t hold back any longer. Instead of staying inside of her and coming into the condom, he pulled out, ripped off the condom, and stroked himself while he had his orgasm, leaving a sticky trail of evidence of how turned on he was all over her chest and stomach. She was panting and gasping, but her face looked like she was in ecstasy.

  When Wheelie was finally finished with his orgasm, he looked down at her and grinned. “Fuck, that was good,” he said.

  She smiled back. “Damn right it was. I need a bath now, though.”

  Wheelie was exhausted and feeling the weed he’d smoked earlier, but she’d already ridden all the way out on the back of his bike in barely nothing. He wasn’t going to send her back out in the cold. He had to ride to Connecticut in the morning with Handsome, but it was early yet...if he let her stay, he’d get to fuck her again.

  “Towels are under the cabinet,” he told her as he watched her climb out of the bed. He slapped her ass before she walked away, and she giggled. That was the last thing he remembered before he passed out. He slept through someone murdering her...but if they murdered her in the tub, how the hell did all that blood get all over him and in the bed? And why didn’t he hear her scream? Why didn’t anyone hear her scream? He was ruminating on that when the door to the office opened and Dax, Cody, Jimmie, Handsome, and Hawk came in. He’d brought most of his executives. Did that mean they were kicking him out?

  Dax looked him up and down, probably just to make sure he was clean, and then the five men took their seats at the head of the big table. Wes felt like he was on display with five pairs of eyes focusing on him. Dax took a breath like he was trying to calm himself down and asked, “Did you remember anything else?”

  “I remember meeting her, bringing her back here...having sex, and that’s it. Oh, and she said she was going to take a bath after we finished. I guess I went to sleep...”

  “What did you take?” Handsome asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “No fucking way you slept through that. You were out cold if you didn’t hear someone slitting that girl’s throat and you didn’t feel that blood all over you. So, what did you take?”

  “I didn’t take anything!” Wes scratched his head. “I shared a joint with Buzz here at the ranch, out by the shop. We drank a couple beers then too. Then we went to the party and I had a couple more beers and smoked another joint...”

  “Where did you get the joint?” Dax asked.

  “From Buzz.” The men looked at each other and Dax said:

  “Did you notice anything strange about the way you felt? Was she acting strangely?”

  “No, I felt fine and she seemed fine. Dax, what are we going to do?”

  Dax focused his blue eyes on Wheelie’s face and said, “The cops will be here soon. The room has been sterilized and the sheets changed. The counters in the bathroom were bleached. As far as the police or anyone else knows, you were never there...at least not last night. We need to get Buzz in here, like an hour ago. Where is he?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Where did he stay last night?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Fuck, man, take it from someone who spent most of their life in prison, ‘I don’t know’ is not going to work.” Cody was shaking his head at him and the rest of them looked annoyed. Did anyone give a shit that he woke up a few feet away from a girl that had been viciously murdered? He knew he was feeling sorry for himself...but fuck.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, addressing Dax, “but when we left the house last night, Buzz offered to let Pamela ride with him. When she ignored him and got on my bike, he looked like he was pissed and he took off. I drove straight back here and we went straight up to the room. I didn’t leave that room until you told me to this morning and I didn’t talk to anyone. I wish I had a better answer than ‘I don’t know,’ I really fucking do.”

  Dax sighed again and told Cody, “Take Jimmie, Gunner, and anyone else that’s available out there and go fucking find Buzz. I want him back here ASAP.” Cody and Jimmie were on their feet in an instant. Dax looked back at Wheelie and said, “Go home and I’ll call you later. Don’t call me.”

  “Home? To my apartment?”

  “Yeah, home.”

  “But...”

  “Fucking go,” Dax said. He didn’t raise his voice, but he didn’t have to. Wheelie knew that was a tone you didn’t want to argue with.

  4

  Wes sat in his apartment trying not to watch the clock, but it was impossible. Time was flowing like wet cement; he checked his phone for the hundredth time to see if Dax had called yet. It had been almost five hours since Dax ordered him off the ranch, but it felt like twelve, or twenty. He’d tinkered arou
nd in his little yard out back, working on a motor he was building for his bike. He thought he’d spent a few hours out there, but when he’d gone back inside to check the phone he forced himself to leave in there, less than an hour had passed.

  He wondered if this was what it was like in prison...nothing to do but wait, and no idea what you’re waiting for. Fuck, he hated this. He hated knowing that poor girl was dead. She hadn’t deserved that. He hated knowing people were going to think that he’d killed her. He would never raise a hand to a woman, much less a knife. And most of all he hated not knowing what was going on. He wasn’t sure if he should be waiting for the police to bust down his door and haul him off to jail, but he realized it was a very real thought.

  He had texted Buzz about a dozen times throughout the day. He couldn’t figure out where the hell he’d gone, and why he wasn’t answering his texts. He wondered if Dax had found him and if so, if he knew anything. But Buzz wasn’t there. No one was fucking there, except for him and Pamela Kent...and he was the only one still breathing. Fuck.

  He tried to eat, but he kept picturing all that blood, and that beautiful woman...permanently mutilated. He raked the leftovers he’d heated up into the trash and opened a beer. Then he thought about the police busting in. It would only make him look worse if he was sitting there alone, drinking a beer so early in the afternoon. He poured that down the drain and proceeded to pace the length of his living room. He decided that wasn’t helping either. He went into his room and lay down on the bed. He was exhausted. He felt like he hadn’t slept in a week, but the wheels wouldn’t stop turning in his head. He closed his eyes, and just about the time he convinced himself that he wasn’t going to go to sleep, he heard a scream....a loud wail, really.

  He jumped up out of the bed and ran toward the small bathroom just off his bedroom. It was empty. He went over and pulled open the bedroom door then, but nothing. It was still and quiet. Damn it! He fucking knew what he’d heard, and he heard it inside the apartment. He took the gun he kept in the nightstand next to his bed and tucked it into his belt and spent the next fifteen minutes searching the eight-hundred-square-feet apartment. He even checked the fucking linen closet in the hallway, like maybe there was a woman stuffed in there, screaming. Jesus Christ, he was losing his mind. He’d slept through a woman being viciously murdered and now he was hearing screams from women that weren’t there.

  He put the gun down on his dresser and picked up his phone. Dax still hadn’t called, and nothing from Buzz either. Fuck. He needed some human contact. The isolation was only making everything worse. He started pressing in the number of someone that always took his calls. He didn’t have her number saved in his phone. After all these years, he didn’t need to. He knew the number by heart and even though he didn’t use it as often as he used to, his fingers typed it in from their own memory. It rang twice on the other end, and then he heard that familiar voice. It was the voice that calmed him no matter how upset he was, or who had upset him, for the better part of his life. It was also the voice that had rejected him when he finally told her how he felt, and the voice that said, “I do,” when she was asked if she would take his brother to be her lawfully wedded wife. But he was past that...for the most part.

  “Wesley? Are you okay?”

  “I’m a mess,” he said. “Everything is fucked up, Syl.”

  “What is it? What happened?”

  “Chris isn’t listening, is he?”

  She sighed. “Of course not, Wesley. You know I respect your privacy more than that.” She did, but his brother didn’t. He knew that he could tell Sylvia anything, but if Christopher overheard, the police would be kicking in his door, without a doubt. He had second thoughts about talking to his sister-in-law. She was loyal, but she was also honest. What if Christopher asked her why he called? “Wes? Are you still there, hon? What’s wrong?”

  “Uh...nothing. Just calling to say hi. How are you?”

  She snorted. “Try that shit on someone else, buddy. You can’t lie to me. What’s up?”

  “Just not having the best week.”

  “Okay...talk to me.”

  “Is Christopher around?”

  “No babe, he’s out of town for work. Bella’s down for a nap, dog’s out back shitting on my lawn. It’s just me.” Wes chuckled. God, he missed her. “Hey, I can hear it in your voice. There’s something wrong. Talk to me.”

  “You can’t tell anyone...”

  “Seriously? We’ve been best friends since the second grade. You don’t know by now that you can trust me?”

  “It’s not that. I just know that you don’t keep anything from Christopher, and this is...well, you know he’d love to have anything he could use against me in his little arsenal.”

  “Oh, Wes. Your brother has grown up a lot over the past few years. We’re doing good and I think he’d like nothing more than to reconcile with you.”

  “Okay, Syl. I have to go...”

  “Wesley Barton Anderson, don’t you dare hang up this phone!” Her southern accent was much more pronounced when she was yelling at him. It made him homesick. “I won’t tell Chris anything you tell me if you don’t want me to, you know that—or you should.”

  He knew he was taking a risk. Chris might be telling her that he wanted a reconciliation with his brother, but Wesley knew him. He hated to admit it, but his brother was not only a pathological liar, he had no conscience, no remorse. Wesley had tried so hard to make Sylvia understand that before she married him, but she didn’t want to hear it. The harder he tried the more she pulled away from him, and Wesley couldn’t lose her, so finally he’d let it go. But he couldn’t stay around and watch his brother pretending to be the perfect husband and father. He knew that sooner or later he’d crash and burn. He always did. The thing about Christopher was that he’d get up, dust himself off, and move on...leaving everyone else smoldering in the ashes.

  He had to talk to someone, though, or he was going to lose his mind. Sylvia was the only person on earth that he trusted absolutely. She was also the only one he knew would never judge him. “Something bad happened, Syl. It’s so fucking bad.” He started talking, and other than the sound of her breathing on the other end of the line, she didn’t make a sound until he finished by saying:

  “I didn’t hurt her, Syl. I didn’t do that to her.”

  “Oh, baby, I know you didn’t do that. Fuck. You poor thing.” He knew it was ridiculous. He was a grown-ass man, a biker for fuck’s sake. But sympathy was what he’d needed, and Sylvia was probably the only one on earth who would understand that as well. “So, what happens now?”

  “I wish I knew. Dax said I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone that I was even there at the clubhouse. But damn, Syl, there were fifty, sixty people at that party. They all saw me. I’m sure the cops are going to talk to them...”

  “Okay, you were at the party. Did anyone see you with her?”

  “Just her sister, and my buddy Buzz.”

  “Did her sister see her leave with you?”

  “No. I don’t think so. Anyway, Buzz was the only one that knew she left with me.”

  “And this Buzz, he’ll keep his mouth shut?”

  Wes wished that he was as confident about that as he should be. Normally, he would swear that any of his brothers would go down in flames before turning on another one of them. But where the fuck was Buzz? The fact that his friend...his brother…wouldn’t return any of his calls or texts was gnawing at him. “Yeah,” he finally said. “He’s a Skull first and foremost and he’s my friend. He won’t say anything.”

  “Okay, then do what your president is telling you to do and swear that you weren’t there at the club. Tell them about your encounter with her at the house. Tell them you left after she got into it with her sister and you never saw her again.”

  “I feel so bad, Syl. She was young and beautiful. She didn’t deserve this...and now I’m just going to ditch her, act like I didn’t know her at all.”

  “You didn’t know her. H
onestly, you can’t remember what happened after she went into the bathroom and you don’t know anything about her or what she was into, so you can’t help find her killer, right?”

  “No. But that’s what makes me feel like shit. That, and the fact that I’m running and hiding to save my own ass.”

  “Wes, I know you better than anyone on this planet and I know that if there had been any way you could have helped her before she died, you would have. But babe, she’s gone, and you can’t help her now...so, you have to help yourself. I don’t want Bella growing up knowing her uncle is in prison for murder, even if it is for a crime he didn’t commit.”

  Wes missed the hell out of Bella. His rift with his brother had caused him to walk away from his best friend, and his niece. Thank God Syl didn’t hold grudges. She let him Facetime or Skype with Bella at least once a week. He got to watch her grow and he got to feel like he was at least a part of her life. But he hadn’t held her in his arms since she was just a few months old. He used to love to bury his face in all that soft, blonde hair and inhale. She smelled new, and sweet, and for a moment in time, he thought she was his second chance in life. He’d been wrong. But the bond was formed nonetheless.

  “I don’t want that either,” he said.

  “Good, then do what Dax Marshall is telling you to do. And please keep me posted. You know I worry like hell about you, right?”

  “Yeah, I know, Syl. You’re the only one that does.”

  She sighed. “When this blows over, will you consider coming out for a visit and at least sitting down with your brother...” There was a knock on the door of his apartment. The butterflies in his stomach all took flight at once. He wasn’t sure if that was because he was saved from answering Sylvia, or because he was worried it was the police at the door.