Victoria held on for dear life and screamed into a pillow as she came, jolts of fire spreading to her toes and scalp. Tristan slowed, grinning into her silky hair as she kissed at his neck, helpless atop him. Then his breath caught as an irresistible urge grew. He buried his cock deep inside Victoria as an orgasm ripped through his balls and out his cock, pumping his seed far into her. His lean frame arched off the bed, muscles in his legs and back spasming. Then he collapsed, breathing hard, his cock still throbbing inside her, euphoria making him feel delirious. He turned her face to him so she could see his adoration and sincerity.
“I am yours forever,” he whispered, “if you want me.”
In reply, she shuddered and melted into his lips.
Chapter 16 – The Price of Lust
In his room on the second floor, Rick stood watching his mistress, Jane, struggling to bring his cock to life. Despite her difficulty, her skills in this area far exceeded those of his wife, who wasn’t a huge fan of oral delights. Or much else, for that matter. That sex life had once been pretty good, but that wasn’t why he’d married Mindy, which was just as well, because with how often he got laid by her now, it would’ve been grounds for divorce.
As it was, he got his kicks with Jane, a black-haired vixen who’d surprised him with her interest when they’d met. He hadn’t thought a girl in her mid-twenties would go for a guy pushing fifty. He knew those May-December romances happened but didn’t think he’d ever have one.
Besides, he wasn’t the sort to cheat. Or at least, he hadn’t been, but times change, and so do desperate men who are lonely, unappreciated, and a little upset. Though he wouldn’t have traded his kids for anything, their arrival had slowly caused the departure of his sex life. And, eventually, his resolve to be faithful.
The first time he’d cheated with Jane, he’d felt horrible and almost confessed to Mindy, but the sight of his kids, ages eight, six, and four, had stopped him. Why destroy their lives? Mindy would’ve won custody in the likely divorce that would’ve followed, and the idea of not seeing them often, or ever, killed him. Nothing was really working for him anymore, it seemed. Even his booming business sucked due to the meddling of those with leverage on him.
The five-year affair with Jane had started off as just sex, but his love for Mindy had faded while affection for Jane had grown. He’d romanticized Jane in his head a few times, remembering that rush of love he hadn’t felt in so long. He’d also fantasized about divorcing Mindy, but he wasn’t giving up the kids, house, and maybe even CMS, for a monthly tryst with someone who didn’t love him. While Jane put on a good show of enjoying their time together, something told him it would never be more than that, his tepid advances for more rebuffed quite smoothly more than once. He’d given up on that a while ago, lest he ruin even the affair. His fantasies about Jane made him feel less lonely but also reminded him how unhappy he was. Sometimes even the sex depressed him, like now, since he couldn’t help thinking this was supposed to be Mindy, a woman who’d apparently lost all desire for him.
While Jane worked her lips and tongue along his limp penis, Rick eyed a bottle of little blue pills on the nightstand. He hating needing Viagra, but pride had slowly fallen away, like his honor and integrity. Something had cost him his manhood. He’d never had trouble getting a boner before the affair and wondered if guilt was behind it. Only getting caught could make life worse, but maybe he deserved it.
As if his thoughts had summoned one of those people with their hooks in him, he gazed out the window to see a blue Yamaha R1 sport bike pull up. One side of it showed two stickers that looked remarkably like those on Tristan’s bike, but he knew that was still under a tarp back at CMS. The rider wore all black and dismounted before pulling off the helmet, which had been painted to resemble a cobra’s head. With a start, Rick recognized Derek, an enforcer from New Jersey who randomly checked in on his operations.
“Stop,” said Rick, pulling Jane’s lips from his penis. She looked up in disappointment.
“Wanna try something else?”
Rick shook his head. “Something’s come up.”
Looking at his limp cock, she replied, “I assume you mean something else.”
He frowned at her and pulled up his boxers, then jeans. “We’re about to have company. Make yourself presentable.”
Jane glanced at the window as she rose but didn’t look through it. She took a tissue, patting her lipstick before reapplying, but otherwise changed nothing. Rick paced back and forth, wondering what the hell Derek was doing here. Then someone knocked on the door and he opened it to see the new arrival looking a lot more relaxed than Rick felt. Derek didn’t wait for an invite before entering and shutting the door behind him.
“Jane,” said Derek in greeting. She frowned at him, but it was Rick who spoke next.
“You know each other?”
“Sure,” said Derek, flopping down on an upholstered chair, the floral design on it at odds with his black leather. His jacket opened enough to reveal a gun in a shoulder holster. From the way he lounged, Rick suspected this was on purpose as a subtle reminder of the forces working against him. Derek asked, “Who do you think introduced you?”
Jane rolled her eyes and seemed none too pleased to see Derek.
Rick looked at them in confusion. He’d met Jane at this bed-and-breakfast when her dinner date had stood her up. Derek hadn’t even been here. In fact, as far as Rick knew, Derek had never been here before. Suspicion crept over him. Had Derek sent her? It seemed far-fetched, even for those in organized crime.
Unsure what to think, he just asked, “What are you doing here, Derek?”
“You know I like to check up on you, see how our
affairs
are going.” He smirked.
“You’ve never done it here.”
“Yeah, he has,” said Jane, “just not with you.”
Derek snidely blew her a kiss and Rick went cold. Something about their exchanges made him certain they were having sex, too, and that Derek was behind Rick’s relationship with Jane. He looked back and forth between them and a worse truth struck him like a blow.
“You set me up,” Rick said to him.
Derek winked.
“You told her to meet me here the first time,” Rick said. When Derek didn’t disagree, Rick put the rest of the pieces together. “Were you the one who took the pictures of us so you could threaten to show them to my wife? And use that to get me to agree to be part of your stolen bike operation?”
“Nope. I prefer shooting a gun to a camera. I just hired the guy.”
Rick flushed in anger and humiliation at Derek’s smugness. Jane had never cared a thing for him. He shot her a look and she made a face that was both apologetic and indifferent, as if it didn’t really matter to her.
“You can be upset later,” said Derek. “I came to tell you we’re sending a half-dozen bikes next week and you’re to unload them to different places.”
“Yeah, whatever.”
“Don’t get all shitty. You still got a pretty wife, big house, and kids to never see again, so keep yourself in check.”
Rick tried to let that go so that he didn’t do something stupid. “You could’ve waited until I came back to tell me, or did you come down here to check on your whore?”
“Fuck you, Rick,” Jane snapped, scowling.
Well at least she has some pride
, thought Rick.
“I went to CMS on a stolen bike for you to ditch,” Derek began, “and your guys told me about the R1 you needed to get rid of, so I figured I’d kill two birds with one stone by riding that down here for our associates in Charlottesville to sell. And see my two favorite people, of course.”
Rick grew alarmed. “Wait. What? That R1 is the one from CMS?”
Derek shrugged. “Yeah. Why the worry?”
Rick swore and moved to the window. “Jesus. That’s Tristan’s bike!”
“Who’s that?”
“Tristan Kendall, pro racer. More importantly, he’s here at the inn with his girlfriend. He’s on this tour with me. Get that fucking bike out of here.”
Derek glared. “Watch your tone.”
“Fuck my tone, Derek. Get that bike out of here now. Or give me the keys so I can get rid of it. If he sees it, we’re fucked.”
Derek joined him at the window and glanced out, seeing the bike in the growing darkness, the rear light from the back door illuminating it. As they watched, Tristan appeared, heading for the yellow Honda Goldwing he’d ridden. In mid-stride, he turned toward the blue R1. The watchers couldn’t see his face until he went around to the bike’s far side, the one with two stickers on it, and turned around. Even from that distance, Rick saw recognition register.
“Christ,” said Rick, running a hand through his hair. “There’s no way he’s going to think this is a coincidence. He might as well be looking at it at CMS.”
Derek nodded. “So then I need to shut him up. Permanently.” He pulled the gun from its holster and headed toward the door.
“Jesus,” said Rick, coming after him. “You can’t kill him, Derek!”
Without stopping on his way out, Derek said, “Of course I can. Right now I just need to stop him from calling the cops.”
“Well, just bring him inside.” He was going to suggest more, but Derek had left.
Chapter 17 – The Price of Love
Tristan stared at his stolen sport bike in disbelief. The details left no doubt it was his. The stickers were the same, including one that didn’t lie completely flat because he’d stuck it on poorly, resulting in a bump. On the right handlebar was the aftermarket throttle control he’d added. And he’d lost the rear tire’s cap when adding air last week; it was still missing.
Tristan clenched his fists, forgetting about the overnight bag he’d come down for. Rick had been lying to his face for days.
That son of a bitch! I knew it!
He didn’t know what Rick was thinking, having it brought here now.
He’d just gotten off the phone with Riley and learned about the pursuit to a few miles from here, but this was a shock all the same. He patted his pants, looking for his smartphone and its camera. He needed a quick photo to send immediately to Ryan and for any local cops. And then Riley, who’d said something about getting dinner before going home. Tristan had tried to talk him into visiting for a few minutes, but Riley demurred, not wanting to be an extra wheel on their romantic evening together. Now Tristan really wished Riley was coming. With a phone call, he’d change his mind.
Shit. Left the phone upstairs.
He started toward the inn just as a guy in black boots, jeans, and leather jacket exited and coldly looked at him. Tristan swallowed a greeting and intended to pass by, but the guy stepped into his path and raised one arm. On seeing the gun pointed at him, Tristan froze.
“Yeah, holding still is a smart move,” the guy said. “Never looks good when you’ve been shot in the back. Makes you seem like a coward.”
Searching for something to defuse the situation, Tristan said, “I don’t have any money on me.”
“Inside, Tristan.” He gestured toward the inn.
That surprised him. “How do you know me?”
“A little bird told me.”
Tristan thought for a moment. “Rick?”
A nod. “I’m not the one who stole your bike, but I am the guy who just rode it here, and you’re never going to tell anyone. Inside. Now.”
Tristan went stone-cold. The steel in his adversary’s eyes held dark promises. Tristan tried to hide his calculating thoughts, but from the way the guy smiled, he knew he’d failed.
“No,” said Tristan. “Do whatever you have to do here.”
Derek’s eyes hardened. “You want a bullet in the head?”
“You won’t shoot me here, not with all those windows behind you. Someone will see you leaving after. I don’t know who you are, so just take my bike and go. You can have it.”
“Name’s Derek, so now you do. And I don’t want your fucking bike. You think I’m stupid? It’s no coincidence that your stolen bike showed up at the same place that Rick is at. You know he’s involved, or you’d figure it out fast enough and tell the cops. And I can’t have that. Gets me in a lot of trouble, almost as much as you’re in now.”
Tristan saw the guy smirk and sensed a sharp mind, hard to outwit. He asked, “Are you so loyal to Rick that you’ll do this for him?”
Derek sneered. “It ain’t Rick I’m loyal to. You think that asshole is running things? You don’t know shit. Even
I’m
not in charge.”
“Then who is? Will they be happy about you getting caught? Are you their known associate?”
“You watch too much TV.”
“Whatever. I know I’m not going in there with you.” He began backing away, hoping to lead Derek away from the inn and, more importantly, Victoria.
“Well, that’s fine, golden boy. You go ahead and run away. I’ll just go in there and point this gun at your girl.”
Tristan stopped. The only way he’d have learned of her was Rick.
That asshole
.
Derek gestured with the gun again. “Come on.”
Tristan reluctantly headed for the inn, noticing Derek back away to keep distance between them. When he reached the door, Rick opened it from inside, his haunted look meeting Tristan’s accusatory glare. Behind Rick stood a fidgeting Larry, whose eyes darted from one person to another and back toward the inn’s main room, where two couples ate dessert. No one else was around. Tristan entered with Derek following.
Tristan held Rick’s concerned gaze. “You can’t let him do this.”
“I’m sorry, Tristan,” Rick said, sounding like he meant it, his expression sober.
Derek said, “You’re gonna be a lot sorrier if you don’t help. Where’s his room? With the girl?”
“I’ll show you.” Rick reluctantly led the way up, Tristan following, Derek behind, and Larry bringing up the rear. “Try to keep it down. Lots of people in here.”
Rick reached the top of the stairs and knocked on the first door. Tristan’s heart pounded as footsteps approached from within. Before he could do anything to prevent Derek and Victoria being together, the gun’s muzzle jabbed into his back. Then the door opened and a smiling Victoria stood there in her sports bra and spandex pants, her expression turning puzzled.