There’s more important things on my mind as I dash upstairs towards Maddie’s room. Michelle has gotten up from her spot on the floor and is following me, shouting her name over my own voice. I fling open her unlocked door to find her laying on the ground in her purple pajamas with the monkeys on it. Her drawing notebook is still lying on her dresser floor.
When she sees both her teacher and me, she leaps up and runs into my arms. “What was that? Is everyone okay?”
I smooth her hair in place, kissing her forehead. She’s alive. She’s alive. That’s all I care about right now. I whisper to her, “Just a window. We’re okay. Don’t worry about anything else.”
“What about Mick and Ace? Is Melinda okay?” Maddie, despite being the toughest kid I've ever met, still can surprise me with how big of a heart she has.
The truth is I don’t know how they are or what happened in that living room. By my account, the shooter fired at least three shots in the kitchen window and another 5 at the house. Who knows if the first three were enough to give them warning. But I can still hear a woman wailing, and Michelle slowly closes the door behind us, dampening the screams.
“Don’t worry about them. I’ll check on ‘em in a minute. But for right now, I need you and Michelle, er, Miss Springer to stay up here in this room while I call the rest of the club. You got it?” I watch her as she nods and then sits down on her bed.
Michelle, on the other hand is not in agreement. She walks out of the room and into the hallway. I pull her into my bedroom so Maddie can’t hear her argument. Her voice is shaking as she says, “I’m not staying here, Cal. Let me take Maddie someplace safe.”
“Someplace safe? Lady, the safest place is here with me guarding you and her. You can’t go back now. They’ve got your license plate, I’m sure. They’ll be looking for you if you go back home.”
She looks at me in disbelief. I know it’s hard for her to understand, but motorcycle gangs in this town run the show. We don’t just do our own thing – we are the thing. We have our hand in everything from the cops to the local government. Hell, her own job probably got approved by someone at the top of the heap.
When she notices I’m not budging, she falls back into my bed in a slump, her shoulders hunched over as she turns white as my sheets. I slowly sit next to her and whisper, “I’m sorry about this. I shouldn’t have invited you here knowing the gang’s at war with the Coyotes.”
“What am I supposed to do now?” She turns to face me, catching my eyes in the darkness. Her eyes are glistening with tears, her bottom lip trembling.
I pull her into me, letting her lean on my chest. When she looks up at me, I do what I want to do without hesitation. I kiss her. It’s softer than the one before, but the heat is still there. Our hearts are both pumping on high, and I can feel her push back, placing all her worries in our embrace.
I hold onto her for a long, lingering moment. She needs this. I need this. Our adrenaline is keeping us locked, neither of us wanting to stop, neither of us knowing how to say no. I place an arm around her hip and lift her up quickly, placing her onto my lap. She lets out small squeal before finding my lips again, this time more passionately and excited than before.
I hitch up her dress, exposing the top of her bare thigh as my hands grab at her flesh. She’s soft and sweet, not bony in the places most girls are. Yet she’s slim enough to fit perfectly on my lap. Her hips move and rock up against the seam of my pants as she takes over the kissing. Her hands hold my head in place forcing it to follow her. Normally, giving up control like this would drive me crazy, but I want her to need me like this.
One of those hands of hers dips behind my back and finds the tail of my shirt. She nudges it up, scraping her fingernails into my back as the shirt flies off me. I let out a hiss from the small sensation of pain. But she’s there in seconds, moving from off my lap and towards my back where she kisses the red, burning tracks she has left.
When she comes up, her hands begin to massage, following the lines of my tattoos up my spine towards my neck. Her mouth follows along, licking and caressing me softly. My mind struggles to keep up as she appears by the side of my face, taking my ear into her mouth and using her tongue to play with the lobe. Her hands unbuckle my pants, which I slide off to the floor with my boxers.
I watch as she licks the palm of her hand and then places it on top of my cock. It’s cool, yet gentle like a strong, refreshing breeze. Michelle uses a finger first to trace the length, circling the head of my shaft. It’s a tease, something I refuse to let other girls do. But she’s different. She’s in control. It’s not a power thing for her. It’s a desire. She wants to know me just as I want to know her.
She places my entire cock in her hand, feeling its weight. Already, it’s stiff and pulsing with blood and nerves. She slowly moves the skin up towards the head and then drops it down, going all the way to the bed of my pubic hair. She repeats, this time adding a small, gentle twist at top.