“That’s a fancy vest,” Sherry said.
Colt frowned as he looked at her, trying to decide if she was making fun of him or not. “You heard of the Vipers?”
“No. Is that your club?”
“Yeah. My daddy started it. I run it now.”
“I don’t know much about motorcycles,” Sherry said truthfully.
“Then why you hanging out in a biker bar?”
“Cheapest beer,” the she said with a grin, and Colt couldn’t help but return it.
“You want another one?” Colt asked as he stood, and in answer, Sherry slammed her head back and downed her beer.
They had a few more drinks. Time passed and soon it was after midnight. When Sherry and Colt stepped out of the bar, the sky was as black as pitch, except for the millions of stars shining among thick gray clouds.
Colt led the way to his bike, a monstrous thing made of chrome and metal, and offered her a helmet he had sitting on the back of the bike. He didn’t put one on himself. Sherry slid the helmet over her head and then climbed on behind him, having to forgo modesty in her short skirt.
The handsome, muscular man backed the bike out of its spot and then kicked the engine on. The thing roared like an animal, and they were off.
Sherry had never been on a motorcycle before, and she found the whole thing exciting and liberating. Colt was practiced and the ride was smooth, but he twisted the handlebars back far and they flew down the empty streets. She had told him where she lived before they had started riding, and she realized he had asked her then because everything was so damn loud that he never would have heard her while they were riding, even if she yelled in his year.
Her arms were around his waist, and she was worried for a moment that she was holding on too tight, but she didn’t dare lessen her grip. Her long hair, which stuck out from under the helmet, whipped in every direction in the wind, and the ten-minute drive back home became a five-minute one on the back of Colt’s bike. He pulled up in front of the two-story apartment building, one foot on the curb as he cut the engine. Sherry climbed off the bike and handed Colt her helmet. He put it behind him, using a strap or two to keep it in place.
“You going to invite me in?” he asked, grinning. She noticed his teeth were as perfect as any she had seen before, white and straight. Holding on to him had been intoxicating, even more so than the beers she had drunk. He smelled like a man should: He was clean, a hint of soap, but there had been stale sweat, beer, and cigarette smoke mixed into his musk as well. The bike had been roaring and vibrating, and Sherry had enjoyed the sensation between her legs. She very much wanted to invite Colt in, but she knew she shouldn't. She had left Oklahoma to get away from a man; she didn’t need to come to Happy, Texas, and find another one so quickly.
“Invite you in? For coffee?” she asked, a playful smirk spreading across her plump lips.
“Do I look like the kind of guy who drinks coffee?”
“Then what do you want to come in for?”
“I want to fuck you,” Colt said, and she appreciated that he wasn’t the kind of guy who beat around the bush. But still, she wasn’t going to give in to him, and certainly not that easily.
“I don’t think so,” she said. “Thanks for the ride.”
And with that, she turned and headed inside. As she unlocked her apartment door, she heard Colt’s motorcycle roar to life, and then it screamed as he sped away.
Inside, Sherry undressed and climbed into bed. She stared up at the ceiling, thinking about Colt, and before she knew what she was doing, she was imagining him there with her, naked in her bed, a throbbing cock jutting out from his pelvis. She thought of him taking her, and her hand snaked between her thighs.
2
The morning after Sherry had met Colt, she used his money to have her car towed to the local body shop and a new windshield put in. The body shop was only a few dusty blocks from her apartment, so she walked down to pick her car up when they called her to tell her it was ready.
It was Saturday, and Sherry busied herself during the day with running errands. She stocked her fridge and pantry and then bought a few new blouses for work. The whole day she only had one thing on her mind, though. Colt.
She managed to wait until seven at night before she rushed over to Earl’s, hoping the man would be there. She wasn’t disappointed. He was sitting in the corner once again, with the same group of men with the same insignia on their backs. The Vipers.
He noticed her as soon as she walked through the door. Since she hadn’t come from work, Sherry was dressed in shorts and a T-shirt, though she was by far the most beautiful woman in the place. She sat at the bar and drank a beer for ten minutes before Colt made his way to her. She wondered if he was trying to seem uninterested. If she were in his place, and that was the case, she would have waited at least twenty.