Biker's Betrayal (Biker Erotic Romance) (2 page)

“So what’s your decision?” Brad demanded impatiently. Sandy sat back in her chair, taking her time before answering.

“I want a lawyer,” she said, finally. Brad immediately got up and left the room, leaving Sandy to stew a bit longer.

As soon as the door closed, Sandy buried her head in her hands. She was in an impossible position, facing decades in prison if she refused to betray her fellow bikers to the Feds. Worse still, the man spearheading the hunt for her ‘family’ was someone to whom she’d once been so close. They’d grown up in the same town together, shared secrets and moments together, had the most amazing sex… and now he was with the enemy.

The fact that Brad was working to kill or jail the people who’d accepted her as one of their own was almost impossible to bear; he hadn’t even seemed moved by their reunion. Then again, Brad had always been good at hiding his true feelings under an implacably austere mask; there might still be some residual feelings deep down, a few latent sparks that she could kindle to salvage something from the train wreck of the past few hours. She hated the idea of being a honey trap whore, as the men in the Speeding Seraphim called such girls, but there were no other options available to her.

Ten minutes later, Brad reentered the room, snapping Sandy out of her crisis of conscience and forcing her to start playing the part of the honey trap.

“Is it time for you to strip search me?” Sandy asked with a dirty smile.

“You’re free to go,” Brad said bluntly.

“Come again?”

“You’re free to go for 24 hours,” Brad clarified, “but you can’t leave this town. We still have questions for you.” {Seriously?}

“You questioned me for barely a minute,” Sandy said suspiciously. “What kind of trick are you trying to play?”

“There is no trick,” Brad assured her, “I’m allowing you to enjoy another 24 hours of freedom at the local motel so you can consider my offer.”

“What kind of cop sets a major suspect free?” Sandy interrogated, fishing for the ruse.

“The kind with federal authority and discretion,” replied Brad, losing his patience. “Now go get your things before I go back on my decision and make you sleep in a cell.”

Sandy decided not to question her luck any further, and quietly left the room.

***

Brad and his ATF partner took Sandy to a motel and set her up in one of the rooms before checking into their own. Before they’d left, Brad had pulled out a combat knife and severed the telephone cord, just in case Sandy tried to call the rest of the Seraphim to warn them. Not that it mattered; she’d missed the drop-off time, so they already knew something had happened and would assume that the shipment had been seized. Her problem now was to escape from the ATF’s clutches and get back to the Seraphim before she was forced rat them out or go to prison.

Feeling bored and restless, Sandy stepped into the corridor. At the far end of the hall, Brad was talking with a fellow ATF agent, a woman. It looked more like an argument from her position, albeit a hushed one. Sandy couldn’t draw conclusions from what she was seeing, but she guessed it had something to do with the decision to let her go. She still felt suspicious about being released when there was so much evidence with which to bury her, but they were being dispelled by the tense conversation happening at the end of the corridor. Could Brad have let their shared history get the better of him? Whether or not he had would influence her chances of escape.

Sandy plucked up her courage and walked towards the pair. The woman agent noticed her approach and greeted her with a disapproving glare. She reached into her jacket, deliberately showing off the sidearm at her hip, and pulled out a set of car keys.

“You should hold on to these,” she said, handing them to Brad. “Good night.” With that, she returned to her own room and Brad turned to reenter his.

“Brad, wait!” Sandy followed him into his room.

“What do you want?” snapped Brad impatiently.

“I just want to talk.” Sandy shut the door behind her, not totally sure where to take this.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” replied Brad, taking off his jacket and hanging it up.

“That’s it?” Sandy said angrily, “I don’t see you for a whole decade, and your response to me is ‘there’s nothing to talk about’?”

“We said our goodbyes and went our separate ways.”

“No. YOU went YOUR separate way, and left me in that crappy old town!” Sandy pressed her verbal attack.

“Only for us to be joyously reunited in an interrogation room,” Brad shot back sarcastically, “with you a member of a gang of white trash criminals on bikes.”

That response elicited a slap across the face from Sandy.

“Don’t you fucking moralize to me,” she snapped angrily, “soon after you left, my mother was diagnosed with cancer. We couldn’t afford the medication to treat it, so she took her own life rather than be a burden on me.”

Sandy paused to let her words sink in. Brad’s furious expression melted into shock.

“Sandy, I’m so sorry…” he said softly.

“For what?” demanded Sandy, going back on the offensive, “for my loss, or for leaving me alone in the world? After mom killed herself, that ‘gang of white trash criminals’ took me in and gave me odd jobs to do at their garage. They accepted me, and made me a member. Because of you, they’re the only family I’ve had for the past ten years.”

Sandy paused for breath. She was supposed to be trying to seduce Brad into dropping his guard, but all the memories and baggage that had been building up since Brad had left were boiling up to the surface. She didn’t want to overdo it, or allow herself to succumb to her own emotional blackmail. Brad seemed frozen to the spot, unsure of whether to lunge at Sandy in anger or kiss her. Ultimately, he chose to do both.

He wrapped his hand around Sandy’s throat and pinned her to the door, kissing her full on the lips. Sandy felt a rush of alarm tempered by intense arousal, and she returned Brad’s aggressive kiss, reaching for the zipper of her jacket.

“Stop it,” ordered Brad, abruptly breaking off the kiss and bringing himself back under control again.

Sandy looked him in the eyes and slowly unzipped her jacket. In the fork of her cleavage, there was a tattoo of a heart broken in two.

“I got this after you left,” Sandy explained, “it’s cheesy, I know, but that’s how I felt.”

“Going to college was the chance of a lifetime, Sandy,” Brad murmured, averting his gaze, “I’m sorry you feel I abandoned you, but I couldn’t turn that opportunity down.”

“I’ve almost forgiven you,” Sandy lied, “but there is a way for you to make it up to me.”

Brad didn’t need to ask what it was. He held Sandy’s head in both hands and kissed her aggressively. Sandy reciprocated the kiss, unzipping her jacket all the way and tugging it off, discarding it on the ground. Brad undid the clasp of his holster and discarded his weapon on the ground as Sandy gripped his shoulders and jumped into his arms, wrapping her legs around his body and hugging him close as they kissed. Brad carried her to the bed and dropped her onto her back before tugging off his shirt.

Sandy inhaled sharply at the sight of Brad’s muscular chest; though the skin was partly disfigured by some scar tissue above his nipple, he was still as hot as he’d been ten years ago. She eagerly pulled her own shirt off as Brad pulled down his pants before tugging aggressively at hers, eager to gain entrance again.

Sandy unbuttoned her jeans and let Brad yank them off. Advancing on his knees, Brad’s cock stood to attention, stiff as a flagpole at around seven inches. Sandy hyperventilated in anticipation and eagerly spread her thighs for her ex-boyfriend as he lowered himself down on top of her and pressed the mushroom-shaped head of his manhood against her pussy lips. A shiver of pleasure ran up Sandy’s spine as his sex made contact with hers. She was already moist from anticipation, but the sight and sensation of her virile ex-flame poised to fuck her made her pussy start to drip with sexual excitement.

Brad didn’t waste time with extra foreplay, and moved his hips forward. Sandy bit her lip to suppress an audible gasp of pleasure as Brad drove his manhood home. He was at least an inch thick, and his cock forced her womanhood to stretch to contain him. Sandy embraced Brad, hugging his body close to hers as she savored feeling of his manhood inside her. More or less straightaway, Brad began to thrust.

Sandy moaned aloud through gritted teeth as Brad fucked her, driving the tip of his penis all the way up to the back of her pussy with each slippery stroke. Sandy sat up on her elbows as Brad bent over her, driving his hips back and forth. His six-pack was even more pronounced when hunched over, and the sight of his gorgeous body drove her excitement to new heights.

Although there was no friction from his thrusts, the size of Brad’s hard-on inside Sandy caused a slightly uncomfortable stretching sensation as her pussy muscles constantly stretched and relaxed in response to Brad’s relentless thrusts and withdrawals. Strangely, the discomfort melded seamlessly with the growing pool of pleasure in her groin, which was seeping up into her belly as Brad quickened the pace of his strokes.

Sandy reached up and wrapped her arms around Brad’s neck, pulling him down to the bed again as his thrusting became more intense, more like a rutting animal than a civilized human being. In addition, he skillfully angled his thrusts so that his pubic bone rubbed ever so slightly against Sandy’s clitoris. The resulting stimulation sent spikes of ecstasy shooting up from her cunt into her belly, simultaneously causing and heralding the impending arrival of a powerful orgasm.

In a kinky twist, Brad freed one of his hands and wrapped his fingers around Sandy’s throat, giving it a gentle squeeze as he did so. The sheer power Brad had over her in this situation was intoxicating; the animalistic vigor of their mating and the gentle pressure Brad applied to her neck added the final boost that pushed Sandy’s body over the edge of the orgasmic precipice. She squealed aloud as her climax flushed through her body, barely managing to restrict the noise by clenching her teeth together as the ecstasy short-circuited her senses. She could care less if anyone else on the floor could hear her and Brad’s coupling. Still, a tiny part of her felt that was no excuse for waking the dead.

In the midst of being ploughed with alpha male vigor, it did occur to Sandy that Brad’s female partner was in the room next door. Were the two sleeping together? The thought of stealing—or rather, stealing back—another woman’s boy-toy brought a dirty smile to Sandy’s lips as Brad’s already vigorous mating entered its home stretch.

“Just imagine what those biker thugs you’re so loyal to would think if they knew you were spreading your legs for a federal agent,” Brad said in Sandy’s ear, his whisper twisted into a growl by his lust.

More than a few of the Speeding Seraphim had served time in prison, and some had been shot and killed in shootouts with state and federal law enforcement. The actual consequences of Sandy’s fellow Seraphim finding out about the betrayal she was perpetrating would be very severe, even if she was doing it for the good of the club, but the dirty thought of sleeping with ‘the enemy’ sparked a second firestorm of pleasure that overwhelmed her senses. Sandy moaned aloud as her second orgasm momentarily shut down her critical faculties, no longer caring if she was overheard by the rest of the floor.

This time, Brad joined her. His relentless rhythm of incoming and outgoing strokes had grown to an intensity of bestial proportions, which he couldn’t sustain for much longer. Finally, he succumbed to his own inexorable climax and thrust his cock as far inside Sandy as possible, releasing an audible snarl of masculine ecstasy as he did so. Sandy felt a delicious chill slither up and down her spine as she felt Brad’s manhood pulse rhythmically and eject the first stream of warm, virile seed inside her, followed by a second and a third and a fourth.

In the heat of the moment, Sandy pressed her lips against his neck and sucked as hard as her lungs would allow. Brad hissed in pain as Sandy left her mark on him, still busy pumping one dollop after another of his sticky pleasure into her. Once Sandy had finished planting a hickey on Brad’s neck, the two embraced, soaring high on the shared cloud of post-coital bliss.