The next few months were fantastic. Tim continued to perform well at his job, and Rudy assured him that if he wanted to take college courses, the company would approve it. He also received a pay raise after three months, and used it to tune up the Civic. It continued to run like a champ. Since they were able to save money each month, he started to look for a car for Crystal.
Shane became a good friend, and they regularly spent time at each other’s trailers. They honored his instructions, and stayed away whenever his biker friends came to visit. Sometimes they heard loud music and shouts down at his trailer, but it never reached a point where anyone complained.
Crystal was curious, though…Tim caught her peeking out their window one night when a party was in full swing.
The two men became inseparable. Tim introduced Shane to all the best fishing spots, and Shane took him to several car shows.
All the while, Crystal and he continued to discuss their mutual fantasy. They’d reached a stalemate. Tim wanted to try it, but was too scared of the consequences. Crystal was eager to invite Shane into their bedroom…entirely too eager for his peace of mind.
When Tim finished work that Friday, he stopped by the grocery store before picking Crystal up at the restaurant. He wanted some steaks for that weekend’s cookout…and it felt so good to select and pay for them. I can finally afford them!
He also stopped by the liquor store, and bought a new bottle of Jack Daniels.
“Hey, babe,” he smiled when she slid into the car. “How was work today?”
“Busy, as usual,” she sighed. Busy shifts meant job security…but oh, her aching feet!
He shot her a quick searching glance. “Cliff still hitting on you?”
“No, not really,” she shrugged. “He still offers me a ride home sometimes, but I think he’s moved on.”
“Good.” He pulled out into traffic. “I don’t like him; I never have. It grates on my nerves that you have to work with him.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Crystal laid a soothing hand on his shoulder. “He really doesn’t bother me, and he’s mellowed out…a little. He’s still an immature jerk, but maybe less of one than he used to be. I don’t see us ever being friends with him, though.”
That was a huge relief.
“Anyway,” she suggested, clapping her hands excitedly, “what are we doing this weekend?”
“Good question. What did you have in mind?”
“I want to go dancing!” she exclaimed. “Can we drive into San Antonio tomorrow night?”
Tim’s heart started beating faster. He was a terrible dancer, but he knew Crystal loved it, so he always agreed. “That’s a great idea,” he nodded.
“Awesome!” She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Thank you!”
Suddenly he had an idea, and blurted, “Do you want to see if Shane’s interested in joining us?”
Her eyebrows rose. “Really?”
“Well, we’ve never seen him go out,” he shrugged, “other than happy hour once in a while. Otherwise he’s like a hermit. He might like to dance.”
“That’s a good idea,” she agreed. “You want to ask him, or should I?”
He tossed her a rueful grin. “Why don’t you? I’d be uncomfortable asking another guy to go dancing with us.”
That made her laugh. “Yeah, good point. Okay. Let me take a shower first, and then I’ll go down and ask him.”
Sudden silence fell, and she realized they’d inadvertently circled back to their ongoing debate. “Should I invite him anywhere else?” she asked softly.
Tim’s nerves began to tingle with mingled excitement and foreboding. They’d been talking about it for several months now, and the friendship they’d all built was strong. He began to think it might work, after all.
Just once. Just to try it.
He took a deep breath, then nodded. “It’s up to you. Let’s give it a try.”
Crystal’s eyes sparkled with thrilled delight.
When she hurried down to Shane’s trailer, Crystal felt her heartbeat soar. It always did when she saw him, or even thought about him. He was super-cute, and his chiseled body never failed to light her fire. Now that Tim was finally on board, she could barely contain her excitement, and felt herself moisten with keen anticipation.
“Hey,” she shouted playfully to the person leaning under the Camaro’s hood, “what the heck are you doing down there?”
The man straightened, and she jumped in surprise…then blushed crimson-red. It wasn’t Shane. He was just as tall, but leaner, and he had shoulder-length blond hair tied back in a ponytail. He also had beautiful eyes, she realized when he took a curious step in her direction, and colorful tattoos decorating his arms. Though he wasn’t quite as muscular, his arms were nicely shaped. The sleeveless t-shirt he wore clung to his skin, and showed off his lean body.
“Oh, jeez.” She rolled her eyes in embarrassment. “I’m so sorry. I thought you were Shane!”
He wiped his forehead, and flashed her a winning smile. “It’s no problem. No problem at all. Shane’s inside.”
She hesitated only the briefest instant, then held out her hand. “I’m Crystal. My husband and I live up the street.”
When he smiled again, dimples appeared. She immediately decided she liked his smile.
“I’d shake your hand,” he apologized, “but mine’s covered in oil. I’m Rowdy.”
“Nice to meet you,” she grinned, nodding her understanding.
“Same here.” He studied her a moment longer, then angled his head toward the trailer. “Shane’s inside. I think he had to make a call, so just go on in.”
“Okay, thanks.” She felt his eyes follow her up the steps, and wondered at his sudden quirky grin. It took an effort to keep from turning and staring at him again. Two cute bikers! Holy shit, it’s like Christmas!
She knocked once, opened the door, and stepped inside. Shane wasn’t in the living room or kitchen, and she didn’t hear him talking on the phone. She did recognize the unusual sweet, smoky smell that permeated the trailer, though.
“Shane?” Feeling comfortable in his home, she started down the hallway.
“Yeah? Hang on a second, Rowdy.” Shane’s voice echoed from the bathroom.
She was just about to retreat back to the living room when he stepped out. His body was beaded with water, his hair was still wet, and he had a towel wrapped low around his waist. It was obvious he’d just stepped out of the shower.
Another hot blush warmed Crystal’s cheeks. “Shit, I’m so sorry!” she stammered. “Your friend said you were on the phone, and told me to come right in.”
He didn’t seem to hear her flustered explanation. A slow smile curved his lips…and her heart simply exploded with excitement. Water trickled down his beautifully sculpted muscles, and she ached to taste every inch of his muscular frame.
Liquid heat pooled in her belly when she saw him swiftly harden, causing the towel to bulge deliciously. The last trace of her nebulous control snapped, and she quickly pushed him back into the bathroom.
I need him! I have to have him!
“Crystal…”
He never finished. In one swift move, she kicked the door shut, and flowed into his arms. His eyes widened, and then desire erupted between them. His lips crushed hers, and she moaned as his tongue thrust eagerly into her mouth.
She yanked the towel free, and began to stroke him. Now it was his turn to groan as she expertly teased his hard, erect cock with her clever fingers.
Her lips curved into a naughty smile. Then she dropped to her knees, and looked hungrily up at him. An instant later she devoured him, and reveled in the feel of his hot, hard shaft hitting the back of her throat.
He was slightly bigger and thicker than Tim, and she couldn’t wait to feel him inside her. Good thing I’ve never had a gag reflex…he’s definitely big enough to make most women gag. But I’m not most women. And I want to fuck him so badly!
His head fell back, and he moaned loudly. Urgently he cupped her head, and thrust deeper down her throat. She loved it, and began bobbing back and forth. Her hands clenched on his ass, and he hardened even more.
He was close. Eagerly she doubled her efforts, pulling him as deep into her throat as she could. Seconds later he groaned hoarsely, and his fingers tightened around her nape. She felt him spill into her mouth, and clamped her lips around his shaft while she swallowed.
Finally he released a heavy sigh, and his entire body relaxed. She eased back, and licked the last delicious taste from his cock. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that for you,” she grinned.
He managed a breathless laugh, and pulled her to her feet again. “Well, thank you. We should have done it a lot earlier!”
“I agree,” she said sincerely, then narrowed her eyes. “That was terrible of your friend, Rowdy,” she laughed, “but I’m really glad he sent me in here.”
He chuckled, and shook his head. “Sorry. Rowdy has a weird sense of humor. He’s a great guy once you get to know him, and he’s my closest friend. But his twisted sense of humor always gets the best of him.” Then he smiled down at her, and lightly stroked her cheek. “I’m really glad he sent you in here, too.”
“Well, he’s a jerk,” she teased. “A cute jerk, but still a jerk.”
His eyes glittered with suppressed laughter. “It’s okay, Crystal,” he assured her. “We’re both adults, and we can keep this between us. Besides, you certainly know your way around the male body.”
She blushed again. “Yeah. Well, yours is…awfully nice.” She managed a shaky smile, then finally laughed. “Okay,” she decided, patting his chest. “I’m going now.”
“I’m clean, by the way,” he quickly told her. “Just wanted to throw that out there. I’m safe.”
That was good to know. “I figured you were.” She retreated to his living room, and perched on the edge of the couch. The thought of surprising him in his bedroom was tantalizing, and she was still so aroused! But before she could gather her courage, he reappeared, wearing shorts and a T-shirt.
“So why did you drop by?” he asked, settling onto the worn cushion beside her.
“Oh.” She’d completely forgotten, and nervously smiled. “Tim and I are going dancing in San Antonio tomorrow night, and we wondered if you’d like to join us.”
He considered it for a moment. “My dancing skills are kind of limited. What kind of music?”
“Country. Unless you’d prefer something else.”
He laughed. “No, country’s fine. Actually, it’s the only kind of dancing I know, so that’s great.”
“Excellent!”
He smiled down at her, then snapped his fingers. “Hey, do you mind if Rowdy tags along? He’s here for the weekend.”
“No, not at all.” She tossed him a saucy wink. “Is he safe? I mean, he is one of your biker friends!”
Shane laughed. “He’s completely safe, and even housebroken.”
“Who’s housebroken?” Rowdy’s voice interrupted them, and they both glanced toward the door as he stepped inside, looking so utterly innocent that mischief sparkled all over him.
“You, you dickhead,” Shane snapped.
He chuckled, and flashed Shane a knowing smile. “Hey, are you honestly pissed that I sent a smokin’ hot woman into your trailer while you were in the shower? Seriously?”
Crystal blushed again, even while her pulse thrilled at the compliment.
“Dude, she’s married, and her husband’s a friend of mine,” Shane warned.
Rowdy shrugged. “Okay. And the problem is?”
“Rowdy?”
“Yeah?”
”Just shut up.”
Tim and Crystal led the way in their Honda, while Shane and Rowdy followed behind on their Harleys. Tim didn’t know much about motorcycles, but he’d been fascinated by their glossy black shimmer, all that shiny chrome, and the roaring power when the two bikers had revved their engines. Those bikes are freakin’ awesome! he’d thought excitedly.
Crystal had just smiled and rolled her eyes. “Men,” she laughed, and slid into their compact little car without a backward glance.
The dancehall was busy when they arrived, but they were able to find a table. Rowdy paid for the first round of beers, and they toasted to a fun night with good friends. Then a new song came on, and Crystal eagerly dragged Tim out onto the dance floor. He really struggled to match the fast beat, but she didn’t care. It had been so long since they’d been dancing together.
After a few laps around the dance floor, he felt a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, Tim, mind if I cut in?” Shane smiled apologetically at him. “No offense, dude, but it’s painful to watch you country dance.”
Crystal nodded enthusiastically, so he ruefully stepped back. “Okay, Shane. Show me how it’s done!”
“Yee haa!” Shane shouted, and winked at Crystal. He immediately spun her around a few times before guiding her into a fast two-step. Her eyes widened as she let him lead, and enjoyed the ride.
Holy shit. He can dance, Tim thought regretfully.
Slowly he walked back to their table, feeling like an idiot for letting Shane cut in. Rowdy grinned at him, and lifted one shoulder in an understanding shrug. Sullenly he watched as Shane expertly two-stepped with Crystal; they turned, swayed, twisted and twirled their way around the dance floor. Other couples made room for them, and some even stopped to watch them dance. Crystal’s feet flew as they spun in fast circles, and stepped easily into another two step.
When the music finally ended, he twirled her around a few more times, then stopped and pulled her into a slow dip. They received a boisterous round of applause.
Rowdy saluted them with his beer bottle. “He’s good, isn’t he?”
“Holy shit!” Tim took a deep gulp of his own beer. “Good doesn’t even begin to describe it!”
That made Rowdy laugh. “I hope you weren’t thinking of dancing with Crystal tonight.”
He didn’t bother to answer; he already knew he was hopelessly outclassed.
“Shane is a good dancer,” the blond biker chuckled, pitching his voice over the loud music. “He’s almost as good as me!”
Tim felt even worse when Rowdy strode out onto the dance floor, tapped Shane’s shoulder, and confidently took his place. He wasn’t bragging…he was a damned good dancer, too, and he spun, twirled and two-stepped his way around the floor like he owned it. Crystal hung on for the ride, and beamed with pleasure.
Shane returned to their table, and eagerly quenched his thirst. Then he nudged Tim’s shoulder, and nodded toward the dance floor. “Rowdy and I spent a lot of time in bars together,” he chuckled. “We used to see who could drink the most liquor, and dance with the most women. I usually lost.”
“Damn, Shane, I wouldn’t have invited you if I’d known you were such a good dancer!” Tim lamented, then laughed. He couldn’t truly resent either man when Crystal was clearly having such a great time.
Gently Shane clasped his shoulder. “Tell you what,” he offered. “You can have the slow songs…and believe me, those are the best ones.”
“Fair deal.” Smiling, he clinked his glass against Shane’s.
True to his word, they let Tim dance every slow song with his wife. She hugged him tightly each time, and thanked him profusely for letting her dance with the two bikers. Privately he was happy he didn’t have to stumble through the fast songs, but still he felt jealous that she was enjoying herself so much.
The two men’s dancing skills made them extremely popular with the other ladies. As soon as they sat down, another woman would invite them to dance. They accommodated as many as possible, while still managing to dance with Crystal about every other song.
Half an hour before closing, Tim checked his watch, then bought another round, and hoped it would be the last one. They were having a great time, but home was an hour away, and the local cops would be extra-vigilant on a Saturday night.
He was relaxing with Crystal, watching Shane and Rowdy cut across the dance floor with their partners, when a deep voice startled them both. “Would you like to dance?”
Crystal and he both glanced up. A tall, broad-shouldered man in a cowboy hat was hovering over their table. He had a bulging gut that extended over his belt, and a mustache that covered his mouth. Though Tim couldn’t put a finger on it, something about the man was just off.
Crystal sensed it, too, and shook her head. “Thanks, but I’m really tired,” she smiled. “I want to rest.”
“Rest?” He bellowed with laughter, and reached for her hand. “C’mon. You can rest when you’re dead…or when you go home with this little boy.” He dragged her upright with a smug grin. “Just one dance with me, and you’ll definitely want more. Besides,” he added, winking, “we got some good stuff over at our table. Just have one drink, honey—I promise you’ll want to stay with us.”
“Stop it!” Angrily she tried to jerk free.
Tim stood up…but before he’d taken more than a step, pain exploded through his head, and he flew backwards. His eyes blurred as the floor reached up to slam into his flailing body. Blearily he tried to figure out what had happened.
“Stay down there, little man,” a far-off voice mocked. “When I’m done with your girl, I’ll bring her back…maybe.”
Desperately he shook his head, trying to make the room stop spinning. He rolled onto his side, sucked in a painful breath, and made it to his knees. Finally the room and the lights slowed enough for him to stand. Quickly he looked around for Crystal.
The cowboy was pulling her across the dance floor, toward a big group of rough-looking men. They were all grinning widely at Crystal. One of them held up a drink, and motioned for her to come closer. Tim started to follow…and found a hand gripping his arm.
“Don’t,” Rowdy cautioned, and motioned to the other side of the room. “Shane’s got it. Just watch.” A small smile curved his lips as he watched the scene unfold.
Shane stepped firmly in front of the cowboy. Everyone else, sensing impending trouble, quickly moved away, leaving Tim and Rowdy an unobstructed view.
He lifted a hand, and motioned for Crystal to join him. The cowboy tightened his grip, and held her even more firmly against his side. She shook her head, and struggled. Shane said something too low for Tim to hear, and his expression was deadly serious.
Finally the cowboy shoved Crystal away. She fell hard on the concrete floor, then scrambled up and moved behind Shane. The two men squared off, and he motioned her away. The cowboy’s shoulders shook with laughter. Shane shredded his ego with an insolent once-over and a sneering retort.
Suddenly the cowboy lunged forward, shoving Shane, and threw a wild punch at him. Shane sidestepped it easily, and let loose a flurry of his own punches. The cowboy never saw them coming. His head snapped back repeatedly as Shane landed every single one. On the fifth repetition, his white Stetson hat flew off.
He stumbled back, dazed, when Shane’s solid right-hook connected with his jaw. His legs wobbled as he valiantly tried to circle his opponent, and spat out more insults. But Shane was through talking.
He tried another desperate swing that didn’t even come close to connecting, and nearly sprawled on his face. But still he wouldn’t give up.
Shane waited, calmly smiling, until the cowboy managed to regain his balance, and came back for more. An instant later, it was all over. He stepped inside the cowboy’s reach, and slammed his fist into the man’s solar plexus. Tim and Rowdy heard his grunt of pain from across the dance floor. Then he unleashed an uppercut that snapped the big bully’s head back. The floor vibrated when he hit the floor, unconscious.
A hush settled over the entire room. It had been a fast, brutal beating, and all the bystanders were in shock.
Several of the cowboy’s friends circled him, and a few more gathered off to the side. Their glares and angry whispers were anything but friendly.
Shane and Rowdy exchanged a quick glance, and he nodded once before turning to Crystal. “C’mon.” Rowdy pulled Tim away from the table, and nudged him toward the exit. “We need to go.”
“What? Wait, what about Crystal?”
“She’s fine.” Rowdy waved a dismissive hand. “Shane will take care of her.”
Tim stared at him in blank confusion. “Why are we leaving? It’s over, right?”
Rowdy stared at him, then laughed. “Not by a long shot,” he scoffed.
They made it to the parking lot, and hurried toward Tim’s car and the bikes. Rowdy moved like a coiled snake, cautiously scanning the area, ready to strike at the first hint of danger. “Get in the car, Tim,” he ordered, “and start your engine. Don’t leave yet…just get ready.”
“Wanna tell me why?”
Irritation sparked in his eyes, but then he relented. “That guy had friends,” he said shortly. “A lot of them.”
Tim obediently slid into the Honda, and started the engine. His nervousness grew as they waited, and waited…and instead of doing something, Rowdy just leaned against his bike and calmly chewed a stick of gum.
Finally he couldn’t stand it anymore. “Where are they?”
Rowdy stopped scanning the parking lot long enough to glance his way. “Shane is letting Crystal talk to the security folks inside. Most of them are off-duty cops, or have friends that are cops.” Then, seeing that Tim still didn’t understand, he continued, “If this escalates further, we want them on our side. Explaining the situation to them first will help that a lot.”
“Oh.” It seemed obvious now that he’d explained it, and Tim felt a little foolish.
“This way,” Rowdy continued, “we’re just a group of friends trying to leave a bar peacefully. Not a couple of bikers who started a fight with a local cowboy over a girl.” Trust me,” he said dryly. “It makes a big difference.”
Shane and Crystal emerged from the club a few minutes later. Shane quickly scanned the parking lot, made eye contact with Rowdy, and moved his index finger in a quick circle. Rowdy nodded his understanding, then turned to Tim. “You go on ahead. Crystal’s going to ride with Shane, and they’ll be right behind you. I’m going to ride drag.”
He didn’t want to anger the biker, but still Tim was baffled again, and more than a little frustrated by his own inability to protect his wife. “Why doesn’t she ride with me?” he protested.”
Rowdy held his own frustration at bay and answered calmly, “Because, buddy, your car is small, has a tiny engine, and it’s easy to force off the road. Shane’s an experienced rider, his bike can easily go ninety, and…” He dug into his Harley’s leather saddlebag, and pulled out two semi-automatic handguns. Suddenly his impish grin didn’t look so harmless anymore. “Shane’s going to be armed.”
“What?”
“Tim, go the fuck home!” Rowdy barked, finally losing his patience. “Shane will follow you, Crystal will be safe, and we’ll all meet back at the trailer park. Jesus! Now get the fuck out of here!”
Tim’s heart pounded as he quickly obeyed, and watched Crystal get smaller in the rearview mirror. He was clearly out of his depth, and Rowdy’s explanations made sense. But still he felt horrible leaving her behind.
Shane’s a good friend, and he rescued her from that cowboy, he assured himself, trying to think logically. Then a cold chill rippled down his spine. But…how safe? She’s safe from the cowboy, but is she safe from Shane? He’s fucking armed!
Relax. He’s never hit on her, or even hinted at anything inappropriate. And he saved her life tonight. Rowdy helped, too.
The ride home seemed to take forever. No matter how often he looked—and he looked so often that he should have ended up in a ditch—no motorcycle headlight appeared behind him. His nerves hummed like a plucked violin bow, and the radio did nothing to ease his growing tension. Finally, after going through every available station, he shut it off.
Finally their familiar trailer park glided into view, and Tim breathed a sigh of relief. He pulled into his driveway, shut off the engine, and wearily rested his head on the steering wheel. He wasn’t especially religious, but he’d been raised in a Christian home, and still prayed under stressful situations. If this didn’t qualify, he didn’t know what would!
Five minutes passed, then ten, and still there was no sign of Rowdy, Shane, or Crystal. He sat on the Honda’s trunk and fidgeted, stared down the road, fidgeted some more. Briefly he considered calling the police, but what could he tell them? His friends had his wife? Sighing, he took his millionth deep breath, and helplessly wrung his hands.
Fuck me! Where the hell are they?
He heard the muted roar of their engines before he saw their headlights. Moments later they pulled into the trailer park, and rolled down to Shane’s trailer. Crystal smiled at him, eased her tight grip around Shane’s waist, and mouthed I love you! as they passed. Tim’s legs were as shaky as his smile; he hurried after them as fast as he could.
Shane lifted a hand in greeting when he jogged up. “Hey, buddy. It’s all good. Crystal’s safe; she’s inside getting a drink.”
Rowdy dismounted, took off his helmet, and shook out his long hair. “What a disappointment,” he chuckled.
Tim glanced between them in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
The biker rolled his eyes in frustration. “Those rednecks didn’t even chase us,” he complained. “They hit the parking lot right after you left, and just shouted like little girls.”
Shane flashed him a warning glare. “Shut up, Rowdy.” Carefully he laid his helmet on his bike, and climbed the trailer steps. Rowdy shrugged, and followed him.
Tim stood there for a second, feeling totally out of place. But his wife was in that trailer, and he needed to make sure she was okay. Squaring his shoulders, he hurried inside.
Crystal’s eyes lit up when he stepped through the door, and she gave him a vigorous hug. “Don’t worry, I’m fine! Shane and Rowdy were great,” she assured him, “and I was safe with them.”
He wasn’t entirely sure about that, but didn’t want to air his doubts in front of the two bikers. But she didn’t seem any worse for the adventure, so he hugged her, and managed a smile when she kissed his cheek.
“Hey, guys, why don’t we have a drink?” Rowdy suggested from the kitchen. “Night’s not over yet…and since Shane and I didn’t get to kick the shit out of some rednecks, let’s drink instead!”
Suddenly all Tim’s tension evaporated, and he laughed. “Why not?”
Crystal patted his cheek. “Will you go get our bottle of whiskey? It’s still half-full, so we might as well finish it.”
“Good idea.”
After the door closed behind him, she flopped down on Shane’s couch, took a deep breath, and laid her head back.
“Your husband’s pretty high-strung, isn’t he?” Rowdy commented.
She shook her head, but didn’t bother opening her eyes. “Tim’s just a gentle guy. He’s not a fighter or a drinker.” But he had tried to stand up for her, she remembered with a smile.
“Or a dancer, apparently,” he scoffed, and she couldn’t help chuckling. Tim was great to her, but dancing wasn’t his thing.
“What’s up, guys?” Shane rejoined them, dressed in shorts and a t-shirt.
“Oh, we were just talking about Tim,” she murmured.
“Yeah,” Rowdy concurred. “He’s a pussy.”
Shane glared at him. “Knock it off. Tim’s a good guy. He’s just shy. An introvert.”
“Yeah, whatever.” Rowdy dismissed him with a sharp gesture. “How did you hook up with him, anyway?” he asked Crystal. “He doesn’t seem like a natural fit for you.”
Briefly she related their history, then shot him a wry glance. “I dated a lot of guys like you, and I didn’t honestly like the person I was then. He was different. He treated me different. He surprised me…and before I knew it, I fell in love with him. He’s special. He loves me, he’s got a strong work ethic, and he’s cute.” Her eyes hardened just a trifle. “He’s not a pussy, Rowdy, and I’m a better person when I’m with him.”
Quickly the blond biker lifted his hands. “Hey, I like the guy. It’s just that he doesn’t handle himself well in physical situations. Take tonight, for example.” He took a long pull from his beer. “What would have happened if we hadn’t been there?”
She glared at him, and realized that he suddenly seemed a lot less cute. “You and I both know he got sucker-punched. It can happen to anyone. Between us, we would have handled it.” She stood, and faced him squarely. “I’m not afraid to kick a jerk in the nuts.”
Both men cracked up, and covered their crotches until she’d sat down again. Then Shane grinned at his friend. “Not everyone has our history, dude.”
“That’s for sure,” Rowdy smirked, and threw a bottle cap at his head. “You’re turning into a regular civilian, Shane, all gentle and shit.”
Shane’s reply was soft. “Yeah. Maybe. That’s what happens when you start over.” He pulled two beers from the fridge, handed one to Crystal, and then settled into his easy chair. “I’m trying to be a civilian now, and so far, it’s going good.”
Rowdy eyed him in disbelief. “Seriously? I still can’t believe you walked away from the club…and now you’re just a working stiff.”
“It has its benefits.”
“Yeah, like what? Crappy money? Boring job? Nine-to-five schedule? No women? No family?”
Shane responded by chugging his beer, then burped loudly.
“Nice,” Crystal muttered, and rolled her eyes.
Shane ignored her. “The money’s not bad, Rowdy. Sure, it’s not what I’d earn with the club—but I like my job and my schedule.” Then he narrowed his eyes meaningfully. “We’ve discussed the other benefits, and we don’t need to go into them again.”
The younger man cast a quick glance in Crystal’s direction, then walked over and perched on the other end of the couch. “Okay, point taken. I’ll stop. It’s just that we all miss you, man, and I was hoping you’d reconsider. It’s not the same without you, and we were all hoping you’d come back after…” He hesitated briefly, then continued, “After you got tired of playing a civilian. It ain’t you, man.”
“I know, buddy.” Shane nodded his understanding. “Who knows, I might come back someday. But right now, my life is working for me.”
Rowdy was clearly disappointed by his response, but Shane met his intense gaze calmly. Finally Rowdy shrugged, and sat back. “Well, let’s drink, then.”
Tim chose that moment to knock on the door. “Hey, guys. Sorry, I wanted to change into something more comfortable,” he explained. Then he noticed the tense silence, and his eyebrows rose. “What’s up?”
“Nothing,” Crystal quickly assured him. She rose, took the bottle he’d brought back, and gave him a peck on the cheek. “We were just talking about tonight, and what happened with those rednecks.”
“Ahh.” He watched her hurry into the kitchen and start mixing drinks, then turned to Rowdy and Shane. “I really want to say thank you,” he said earnestly, and walked over to shake hands with both of them. “I don’t know what we would have done if you hadn’t been there.”
Rowdy’s smile twisted a little as he leaned back on the couch. “You got sucker-punched. It can happen to anyone. Don’t worry about it.”
“Yeah…besides, it was the least we could do for letting us dance with your girl all night,” Shane chuckled.
Tim soberly nodded, and felt a little better. “Well, thanks again.”
Behind his back, Crystal met Rowdy’s steady gaze. Thank you, she mouthed, and he winked at her. “So where’d you two learn to dance so well?” she asked, to break the uncomfortable silence.
The two bikers exchanged a smile before Shane explained, “Rowdy and I used to hit a lot of bars when we were younger. We always competed to see who could dance with the most girls, and drink the most beers. It was stupid,” he admitted, “but we had a lot of fun, danced with a lot of girls, and drank enough alcohol to pickle our livers ten times over.”
“I beat Mr. Lightweight over there every time!” Rowdy piped up.
“Only in your dreams, buddy.” Shane flipped his bottle cap at Rowdy.
“Fuck you!”
“Fuck you!”
Everyone laughed.
Crystal carefully carried glasses to each of them, then lifted her own in a toast. “To Shane and Rowdy. Two great guys who can dance and fight with the best of them!”
“Hear, hear!” Shane responded.
“To Shane and Rowdy,” Tim toasted.
Rowdy ended the toast with a resounding, “Fuckin’ A!”
They each took a hearty gulp. Tim’s eyes immediately watered, because she hadn’t mixed his drink light, and the whiskey burned his throat. She answered his playful glare with a wink, and bumped him with her hip when they settled onto the couch.
Suddenly Rowdy flashed a secretive grin at Shane and, ignoring his guarded look, went outside. When he came back, he hefted a loaded baggie so Tim and Crystal could see the marijuana inside. “Whiskey’s great, but I need something stronger. Anyone up for some really good shit?”
Tim quickly shook his head. He’d had chances to try it, but hadn’t been interested. He also remembered being taught, in high school, how smoking marijuana always led to harder drug usage.
Crystal, however, laughed excitedly and bounced on the couch like a hyperactive toddler. “Oooh, I want some!”
A hot blush stained her cheeks when Tim gaped at her in surprise, and she laid a hand on his arm. “Sorry…I haven’t had any since high school. Please?”
He had no defense against her best puppy-dog eyes, and grudgingly relented. “Oh, all right. We’re celebrating tonight anyway. Go ahead.”
Happily she clapped her hands, and kissed his cheek. “Roll me one, Rowdy, please?”
He grinned. “Shore thang, darlin’,” he drawled in a thick southern accent.
“I’ll stick with whiskey,” Shane decided. “Thanks anyway, bud.”
Rowdy’s eyes bugged. “You’re seriously turning down weed?” He shook the bag again. “You know where I got this, right?”
“Yep.” Shane flipped him off. “I’m fine with whiskey, you asshole. I had enough last night.”
Rowdy shook his head in disgust, then shrugged. “More for Crystal and me. Do you like big ones?” he winked at her. “Or small ones?”
“Oooh. Big ones!”
“Good to know. Now what size do you want your joint?”
She watched with keen enthusiasm as he rolled her a ‘stick a weed,’ as he called it. When he handed it over and lit it for her, she inhaled deeply, held it for a while, and then blissfully exhaled. “God, I’ve missed this!” she exclaimed.
Tim eyed her with barely-veiled concern. “How much did you do in high school?”
She inhaled another hit, and held it for nearly a minute. “A lot,” she finally grinned. “You remember Damon?”
He was already wishing he hadn’t asked, and reluctantly nodded.
“Well, we dated for a while, and he was a part-time dealer, so he had access to a lot of it. Even after we broke up, he still let me have some now and then.” She smiled reminiscently.
Rowdy snorted. “He just let you have some?”
She blushed. “Well, we had an arrangement.”
“I’ll bet,” Shane interjected.
She shot him a defensive look. “Hey, a girl’s gotta get high once in a while.” Then she turned her attention back to the joint in her hand, and drew in another lungful of potent smoke.
Tim and Shane stuck to whiskey, and when he went to the kitchen to make another round, Tim mixed his own to his own lighter preference. When he came back, Rowdy was messing with Shane’s stereo. A popular party song came on, and Crystal began laughing and moving rhythmically in her seat.
“C’mon, Crystal, get up and dance!” Rowdy encouraged.
Eagerly she jumped up to comply, and began moving her hips seductively. Excitement and nerves tangled in Tim’s stomach as he watched her. She was an excellent dancer, and he’d often watched her from afar during high school, wishing he was her partner. Tonight, though, he worried about her getting high and dancing for Rowdy and Shane. He trusted Shane, but Rowdy was a completely different story. ‘Party animal’ didn’t even begin to describe him, and he was exactly Crystal’s favorite type of bad boy: Plenty of drugs, and no limits.
“Yeah, baby!” Rowdy whispered, watching her body sway with rapt fascination. “You can really move, Crystal!”
She flashed him a sultry grin and a wink, and continued to dance until the song ended. Her hips undulated in a circular pattern that showed off her curves. Tim breathed a silent prayer of thanks that she’d decided to wear jeans tonight; a skirt would have shown way too much skin.
She accepted their boisterous applause with a sexy bow, then rejoined Tim on the couch. Immediately she took another long hit from her smoldering joint, held it, and then let it out slowly, savoring the taste and feel of the potent marijuana. Then, with a giddy smile, she leaned over and kissed Tim’s cheek.
“Y’know, Crystal, you really are a great dancer.” Rowdy’s voice echoed through the haze of smoke, and his eyes seemed to glitter in the dim light. “Ever thought of dancing for money?”
“Rowdy…” Shane’s voice carried a low warning note.
“What? I’m just asking!”
“No,” Crystal said slowly. “Are you talking about stripping?”
He nodded, and his wicked grin sent shivers down Tim’s spine. “Holy shit, you’d make a lot of money!”
Her eyes widened in surprise. “Really? Like how much?”
Casually he stretched out both legs, and crossed his arms behind his head. “Well, it varies, of course. But most dancers make at least $500 a night, and more on the weekends. In some cases, a whole lot more.”
“Just for dancing?” She frowned skeptically. “I’m not interested in giving anyone a ‘happy ending.’”
Both men laughed. “Just for dancing,” Shane assured her.
“Wow.” She tried to pretend disinterest, but her eyes gleamed with excitement. “I’ve thought about it before…but I’m married now, and it wouldn’t be right.” She smiled at Tim, and patted his knees. “I’ve got a great guy, and we’re doing okay for money.”
Rowdy’s bark of laughter was mocking. “Most of the strippers are married—and believe me, their husbands don’t mind an extra three or four thousand dollars, in tax-free cash, every month.”
Crystal sat up a little straighter, and Tim’s nerves tightened. “That much?” she gasped, stunned.
“Hell, yeah. And most of them only work a few days a week. I’m telling you…” He took a deep hit on his joint. “…it’s the easiest money you’ll ever make.”
Tim kept expecting her to shut the conversation down, and her rising excitement chilled him. “Crystal,” he interjected, “it’s not a good idea, and I don’t like the idea of you dancing for money.”
Rowdy smirked at him. “What? You’d prefer her to do it for free?”
“No. That’s not what I meant,” he quickly protested. “I just don’t want Crystal to be a stripper. We don’t need the money.”
She shocked him by whirling around in fierce outrage. “What about what I want?” she snarled. “Don’t I get a say in what I do, or don’t do?”
“Well, yeah, of course,” he quickly backpedaled. “I just didn’t think you’d be interested…and it’s something we should talk about together.”
“Is that right? Because it sounds to me like you’ve already made up your mind!”
Tim wasn’t sure how much of her anger was caused by the alcohol and marijuana, but he didn’t want to fight in front of Rowdy and Shane. He sensed that the younger biker would be quite happy to take advantage of their fighting.
“I’m sorry,” he said soothingly, and held up his hands in surrender. “You’re right. It’s your choice. I’d just like to discuss it some more before you make any final decisions.”
She glared at him for another moment, as if she wanted to fight some more. But then she relaxed, nodded, and squeezed his thigh. Relieved, he gently held her hand.
Rowdy and Shane both watched the young couple intently, but for vastly different reasons.
Shane saw them as a study in opposites. Tim was the classic nerd who, by luck or chance, had won the heart of the wild but beautiful cheerleader. He figured Tim would spend the next few decades trying to tame and civilize her. Who knew if his personality was strong enough to be successful, but after what had happened yesterday in his trailer, he doubted Tim would ever be able to handle her.
Maybe I can help him hold onto her, he thought, then glanced over at Crystal. But then again, maybe not. I’m not sure she’s cut out for married life.
Rowdy saw the young couple much differently. Crystal was a gorgeous and sexy woman who, he thought, had married the wrong guy, and just needed to be shown her mistake. She was way too much woman for Tim, and clearly had desires that he didn’t satisfy. She’d make the perfect biker chick, and Rowdy was sure she’d choose the lifestyle. All she needs is a chance, and someone to show her the way.
He smiled to himself, convinced that stripping was the perfect vehicle for her. Tim was obviously uncomfortable with it, and he figured stripping would drive a wedge between them. He was sure she’d end up leaving the pussy she’d married for a real man…and he wanted to be that man.
Well, at least for a while, anyway, he thought to himself. Crystal can start out as my chick, but it damned sure won’t be a permanent arrangement.
Eventually he’d tire of her, or find someone who was even hotter. When that happened…and it always did…he’d give her to the club as a whore. Crystal would have to fend for herself; he wouldn’t care if she found another biker, or was passed around the club until she was used up and discarded.
Tim wasn’t even a consideration. It wasn’t that Tim was a bad guy; he was just weak, a civilian, a nobody. And if he couldn’t keep Crystal, that was his own fault. He didn’t exist in Rowdy’s world, at least not in a way that required respect. Rowdy was a wolf, and he didn’t apologize for it. Tim was a dog, and a weak breed of dog, at that.
Wolves don’t concern themselves with dogs, he thought to himself.
The air in Shane’s single-wide trailer had turned stale, and their argument had made Tim feel uncomfortable. When she finished her joint, he offered her a pleading smile. “Are you ready to go home now, baby?”
She eyed him coolly. “Maybe.” Then she glanced back at Rowdy. “Can I have another big one, handsome?”
“Hell, yes,” he laughed, then smirked. “And I’ll make you another joint, too.”
The sexual tension in the room instantly redlined. Shane saw what was happening, and decided to cut things short. “Another time, guys,” he said, cutting through their mingled laughter.
“Awwww…” Crystal pouted at him. “Party pooper.”
“Yeah, man…” Rowdy started to protest.
Shane cut him off. “It’s late, dude. I’m tired, and I want some sleep.” Then he narrowed his eyes, and softly insisted, “We’re calling it a night.”
Rowdy opened his mouth again to protest, thought better of it, and nodded. “You’re right. It’s fucking late.”
Crystal glanced between them for a moment, then stood and headed for the door. “Night, guys. Thanks for saving me…and thanks for the weed, Rowdy.”
Tim mumbled his thanks, too, and followed her out the door.
The walk back to their trailer was silent. Tim knew Crystal was angry, but he wasn’t sure why. He’d already apologized. What the fuck did I do wrong? I don’t want my wife stripping for strange men. Why is that a bad thing?
She refused to look at him when they headed for bed, and coolly turned her back on him once they’d slid beneath the covers.
He hated being at odds with her. “Honey, what’s wrong?” he asked gently.
She gritted her teeth. “I don’t want to talk about it right now, Tim.” Her retort was razor-sharp and icy-cold.
Sighing, he pulled his hand away, and wearily shook his head. “Okay.”
Crystal lay in bed, staring at the wall, as anger and frustration coursed through her. Gradually Tim’s breathing deepened, and he started to snore.
When she was sure he wasn’t going to wake up, she slid out of bed and walked the familiar path into their small living room. Wearily she perched on the couch, wearing only her long night shirt and panties, and replayed the night in her head.
It was so much fun dancing with Shane and Rowdy tonight. God, it was a complete blast! The other women in the club were so jealous of me.
She’d never danced so much in one night. The two bikers were good-looking, awesome dancers, and it had felt nice to be in their arms. The first dance with Shane had made her wet, and she’d been excited all night.
Eagerly she slid her hand into her panties, and moaned as she massaged her wet, slippery lips. Marijuana had always made her unbelievably horny, and she’d wanted Shane or Rowdy desperately.
Fuck, they both could have taken me tonight, she thought to herself. If only Tim hadn’t been there, I’m sure I’d still be getting fucked.
The thought of them sharing her was intensely erotic, and she gasped as hot pleasure exploded through her. Frantically she grabbed a pillow from the couch, smashed it against her face, and moaned into it as her body shook with pleasure. The sweet explosion left her breathless, and covered in a light sheen of sweat.
She felt guilty as soon as her body relaxed, and she could think clearly again. Tim was a great husband, and a good man. She loved him dearly. She was just disappointed that he was such a straight arrow.
God, why can’t he just loosen up? Party a little! Damn!
She’d forgotten just how much she missed dancing and partying. The extra whiskey she’d slipped into his drink hadn’t helped him relax…and she’d been really disappointed that he wouldn’t even try Rowdy’s top-notch weed with her.
That irritated her more than anything else. They were finally making ends meet, but he absolutely refused to let loose and have some fun. His straight-laced ‘play-it-safe’ attitude was infuriating!
I want to have some fucking fun!
She didn’t have any illusions about her history. She’d been a slut in high school, partying and sleeping with lots of boys. Sure, she had a bad reputation…but damn, it had been fun! Some of the things she’d done still made her blush, and she hoped Tim would never learn of them.
He won’t! No one will tell him, and there damned sure isn’t any proof!
She’d never given him any specifics, and was grateful that he’d never asked. They’d run in completely different social circles…and she’d never allowed anyone to photograph or video her. It was her only firm rule. No matter how drunk or high she’d gotten, she’d always made sure there were no phones or cameras nearby.
Sure, there were rumors…but without any kind of evidence, it was her word against the guy’s.
She’d enjoyed high school…cheerleading, the activities, the games, and all the attention she’d received from the boys…
Not just the boys, Crystal, she reminded herself guiltily. You fucked a few men, too…remember the assistant football coach, and your history teacher? Easiest ‘A’ you ever got. Fuck! I miss having fun. I miss partying, getting high, and just letting things happen.
It had been one party after another in high school. Tonight had been a vivid reminder of how much fun she’d had then…and how dull her life was now. It wasn’t likely to change, either, she sighed. He was talking about taking night classes…and that would leave her alone every night.
So much for fun!
Rowdy’s sly suggestion that she consider dancing had intrigued and excited her. She remembered attending that college party where she’d met a stripper, and asked her about the job. She’d made it sound fun, exotic…and she’d mentioned the good money, too.
She’d thought a lot about stripping before she’d started dating Tim, and had even planned to try it once she graduated. Once they’d gotten married, though, she’d had to focus entirely on just making ends meet.
She still wanted to try it, but she knew he’d never approve. God, he’s such a stiff, always acting afraid of everything! I could do it at night when he’s at school. I could make some money, and have some fun. It would be perfect!
Scowling, she got up to retrieve a blanket, then lay back down on the couch. She didn’t want to sleep in the same bed with him when she was so irritated.
I’m not giving up on this. Stripping isn’t the same as whoring. I just want to try it once, to see what it’s like. Besides, she told herself, we could really use the money.
Dreamily she imagined dancing for Shane and Rowdy. They’d lust after her enough to tuck money in her G-string…