Authors: Casey Elliot
*****
The gang who were high up in Prince Country occasionally came down from the mountains for official gang business, and their reputation preceded them. She remembered the first time she saw them all arriving on the edge of the village in a large convoy. They looked as threatening as they did sexy, and she marveled at the sight of their long hair and tattoos. Ever since then, she'd feel her stomach flutter with butterflies every time she heard the sound of the motorcycles' engines roar down the road. To her, it was like a kind of music; like the bass in a nightclub, a mesmeric sexual drone.
Mama Wilson pulled away from her and hobbled up the stairs. She was an old-fashioned woman and believed that a woman's place was far away from men, especially when there was business to be discussed. It wasn't long until the sound of bikes reached the front of the house and Phaedra stood on the porch slack-jawed, as she watched the gang's leader climb off his bike and walk up to her.
He gave her a quick once-over and the young girl felt as though she could feel his stare all the way through her clothes. She felt the goose bumps rise on the back of her neck, as he stood even closer to her and spoke with the gruffest, most gravelly voice she'd ever heard.
"I'm here for Clayton," he rasped, his voice smelling like liquor and cigarettes.
Beside the young housemaid, the man stood head and shoulders above her, and she felt his piercing gaze, as she looked up into his face. The sunlight bounced off his chestnut hair like a halo, as his enormous figure eclipsed the sun.
"I'll just..." her voice came out croaky, as she suddenly felt as though she had no idea how to speak. "I'll go... him... I mean I'll just go get him," she hurried inside with her bare feet slapping on the wooden floorboards.
Meanwhile, Max was climbing off his bike to join his best buddy.
"She's kinda sweet," he winked at Derren.
"Yeah... I noticed."
"I think she likes you, too. You see how she looked at you?"
"Yeah well... As lovely as she is, I don't care about getting with another woman. It's not long until I'm married, and I'll be the luckiest man on earth by then."
"Hey man, lighten up. You're right, it's not long until you're married, so you may as well have some fun while you still can."
Derren gave him a skeptical look out of the corner of his eye.
"You're a real dog, Max. It's a wonder your wife even stays with you."
"Yeah well... She knows when she's got a good thing going."
Derren stepped away from his friend. His father was always saying the man was a bad influence on him and he wasn't wrong; he was always trying to get him to stray from his responsibilities. But, a promise was a promise, unless you lived in Prince Country, and then it was more like a sacred oath that couldn't be broken unless blood was spilled. No matter how attractive a girl was, Derren was waiting for marriage, and that was that.
"I can see what you're thinking." Max was suddenly by his side once again. "You're thinking that you're real honorable sticking by your lady."
"That's right," Derren nodded, as he began to wonder where the hell this Clayton fella was.
"Well... Your sweet lady ain't an angel, I can tell you that," Max smirked.
"What you talkin' about?" Derren's mind went to stormy places at hearing his best friend's words.
"Oh... nothin',"
The gang leader, suddenly engulfed with anger, gripped his friend by his shirt and snarled in his face.
"What are you talkin' about, Max?"
"Nothin' nothin', I've just heard things is all. It's my duty to tell you, ain't it? We're like brothers, buddy. It’s about time you found out."
"Found out what?"
"That... that..." Max gulped down his anxiety, as his face flushed red. "That she's HAD people… some of the guys in the MC..."
Derren had heard enough and let go of his friend. It was then that he heard footsteps crunching across the porch.
"You must be Derren Prince," a thin man with the body of a weasel and the moustache to match walked out of the house wiping his dirty, oil covered hands down his apron.
"Yeah... That's me. My father, Samson, sent me."
"Ah, good ole' Samson. I miss that son of a bitch. You better come inside."
As the meeting progressed, it would seem that the gang was more welcomed at the Wilson house than their leader first expected. He got on well with Clayton, even if they didn't have much in common, but he thought he was a pleasant and funny guy, especially when he discovered he had taken in the young girl he had met earlier.
"So, she was a runaway?" Derren asked, as he sipped his beer.
"Yeah... sure looks that way. Came from one of the towns out west, but she's a real nice girl."
"We can see that!" Max was elbowing his friend in the ribs again, winking and grinning from ear to ear.
"Enough of that, you horny idiot," Derren jokingly punched him in the gut.
As the night progressed, the gang joined the stray inhabitants of the house and gathered around the back of the house with more beer and some music. Derren, now relaxed and enjoying himself, was sat on his own at the edge of the trees with a bottle in one hand and a cigarette in the other. He breathed out a plume of smoke into the air and watched as it lingered in the balmy, summer night. Fireflies danced nearby, and he watched them through his drunken haze, imagining they were stars. Then, he looked back over the throng of people who were laughing and dancing in front of him. Once again, he felt the swell of pride, knowing he was with his own people.
He would be lying; however, if he could say he'd forgotten what Max had said. Ciara had been with other men... He wanted to be marrying a lady; a respectable one who would be pure and bear him children. Now, he felt as though he couldn't trust her; not if she'd been with members of his gang. Once again, he looked over the crowd in front of him and wondered which ones had kissed her, felt her body, and satisfied her. It made him sick to his stomach.
Throwing his bottle on the ground, he walked into the woods for some momentary peace and solace. It was getting dark and, as he looked up to the tree tops, he saw their dark, green leaves were beginning to merge with the darkness of the sky. A few stars; however, were piercing through the sky, and he looked up to see where the North Star was. He was taught to find it, as well as the constellations, from such a young age that divining direction and fate from the stars came as easily to him as getting drunk.
Yet, something was distracting him from the beauty of the nature. It was a gentle singing; one that almost sounded like a siren song.
"What the?" he was confused and turned around to find the source of the music.
There was something so alluring about it; so beautiful, yet innocent. He followed the sound through the ever darkening wood until a glow began to emanate through the foliage. It was the gentle firelight of a makeshift camp. Phaedra, who thought she was alone, was singing to herself as she doodled a sequence of shapes in an old diary.
Derren moved a little closer, trying to get a better look at the mysterious figure. She seemed so ethereal, so out of place, and iridescent as the brightening moonlight washed over her skin. He took a tentative step forward, snapping a branch with his heavy boot.
The noise startled her and she stopped singing. Looking up, she saw him right away and, once again, her stomach was rampant with butterflies. She saw the auburn sheen of his hair, as it reflected the flames. His eyes were glittering and cunning like those of an animal.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you," he crept closer as though she was a wounded animal. "What are you doing all the way out here?"
"I just wanted to make myself scarce," her voice was so quiet it was barely audible. "In case they give me more chores," she looked back to her sketches for a second, and then closed over her book in case he saw them.
"Hey, they're good," he tried to encourage her as he pointed to her artwork.
"They're terrible. I never thought anyone would ever see them."
Derren was awestruck by her beauty, and looked at her serene face with her wide eyes and flowing hair. He thought she was as special and rare as a nymph or a fairy.
"It suits you… being out here," he smiled. "Mind if I join you?"
She nodded and cleared a little space for him.
"I don't have much to offer you," she conceded. "All I have is some chocolate," she reached out and offered him a piece.
"Chocolate is fine by me," he grinned, and took it from her dainty hand. "So...." he chewed on it. “Do you hide out here often?"
"Er... Yeah, most nights. It's too crowded in there to sleep sometimes."
"Yeah... I can see that."
In the distance, the sounds of merriment were sill sounding from the house. Derren imagined it to be a hectic place to live for a young girl.
"You seem too nice to be living here," he said with a softness coming over him. "How long have you been here?"
"I think about two years," she nodded her head as she thought back to her past. "Yeah, that sounds about right, but it's difficult to keep track of time out here."
"Our ancestors used to use nature to guide us through the months, with the seasons dictating how we live."
"Who were your ancestors?" Phaedra asked with a genuine interest. There was something so mysterious about the way the gang leader spoke. It was as if he was describing figures from great myths and legend. However, he went silent at her question and just focused on what he was eating.
"This is real good chocolate," he finished his last piece.
Phaedra quickly handed over her last bit, happy that she could please him.
"Keep it," he shook his head politely and raised a hand. "I know ladies love their candy."
She giggled and took it back. Then, their eyes met across the firelight and Phaedra felt as though her heart had stopped. Despite the fact that she didn't know the man, she felt as though he had a magical hold over her; one that was both magnetic and animalistic. She looked over his body and gazed at his strong arms. She wanted to be held by them and feel the safety they could bring her.
Meanwhile, Derren couldn't take his eyes off her either. He imagined touching her delicate frame; feeling her girlish curves and soft skin. He shook his head to rid himself of the naughty thoughts he was having. He was a full grown man, so he couldn't understand why he was behaving like a teenage boy.
"Something wrong?" she sensed his unease and looked up to him.
"No, everything's just great. That's the problem."
He said no more, but it was as though the teenager beside him could read his feelings. She understood what he meant. The feeling was mutual and the attraction between them was so strong that it was almost tangible; like a rush of electric energy and heat drifting between them.
Derren knew the right thing for him was to get up and leave. Not only was he supposed to be married to Ciara, who he now learned was not who he thought she was, but no one in Prince Country was allowed to have relations with outsiders. It was an unwritten law that had been passed down through the generations, but still... weren't laws meant to be broken?
He took one last look at Phaedra and made up his mind. He had too much alcohol in his system to make a logical decision. As long as no one found out then... what could possibly be the harm in indulging his fancies?
He stood up and sat beside her. It shocked her at first, but then she eased into the closeness of his company. She could smell his manly scent. It was earthen and strong just like he was. She felt almost intoxicated by it; so much so that when he leaned in close to her and placed a muscular hand on her face, she didn't pull away. He held her jaw firmly, but gently and gazed into her eyes. He was blown away by how perfect and doll-like she was, with perfect alabaster skin and big doe eyes. He wasted no more time. Leaning down, he kissed her. He was gentle at first, not wanting to be too rough, but he soon found that she eased to his touch. He felt her body soften inside his arms; felt the way she yielded to his strength.
She gave out a soft moan, as he slid his tongue against hers and soon, they were desperate for each other, pushing and pulling at each other's clothes.
He ripped her delicate dress from her shoulders and nuzzled into her neck, and then her collarbone, before licking his way down to her breasts. He gripped them hard, feeling the stiffness of her pink nipples before placing one in his mouth and sucking hard. She groaned at the sensation, as she felt a wave of pleasure and emotion move through her.
"You like that?" he pulled away for a second and looked up to her.
She nodded coyly; her finger hanging from the corner of her mouth. Derren had never been so hard as he ran his rough hands over her body. Her skin was smooth and her voice like music, as he listened to the sounds of him pleasuring her. But, it wasn't long until he wanted to see more of her. He fell to his knees in front of her; his mouth lingering in front of her hips. Digging his fingers into the sides of her already torn dress, he pulled it off her completely until she was standing in nothing but her panties.