She blinked in surprise, as she wondered how he knew her name. Then, she remembered that her uniform had a name tag on it. She took the money and began counting it out as Braden went back to his crew.

After a few words together, they roared away on their motorbikes. Bianca was left to contemplate her predicament and muse about the mysterious Braden. She was still afraid that the Merrick boys would be back; but, there was little she could do about it now that her pseudo-savior had chosen to intervene.

As she continued serving customers through lunchtime, Bianca's thoughts returned again and again to Braden. People in town knew better than to stand up to the Merrick crew. They weren't above torching buildings to teach people a lesson about respect, even though such cases were never proven. It had taken a brash outsider to do that; but now, her business may be burned to the ground, if not the rest of the town with it. What business did that conceited, Harley-riding thug have interfering in a town he'd never been to before? He'd be gone the next day, leaving everyone else to weather the consequences of his reckless behavior, she thought.

Bianca shook her head and continued with her job. The combination of worrying about the future and contemplating the enigma of this morning's visitors was making her head hurt. For now, she still had a business to run.

Around 11pm, the last few customers were finishing their late night suppers and getting ready to head home. There was usually something very satisfying about seeing the flow of customers gradually ebb towards closing time. It meant that she could soon go home and rest. This time, however, the satisfaction was overshadowed by apprehension about the Merrick crew. When would they come round to smash the diner? Why would the nomad bikers actually set the Merrick boys straight? Her diner was doomed for sure, she thought.

The last of the customers paid their bills and headed home, followed by the cook. Bianca was left to sweep the floor and lock up for the night. As much as she hoped that the diner would not be smashed to pieces by the vengeful Merrick crew overnight, she knew it was a slim chance.

Bianca's heart leaped with terror when she heard the distant roar of an engine coming from the main road. She dropped the broom and hid behind the counter, praying that it was the nomad bikers on their way out of town and not the Merrick boys on their way to destroy her livelihood. Her heart sank, as she heard the engine pull up outside the diner and then die out. Peeking up over the counter, Bianca saw a lone figure walk towards the diner entrance. There was no 4x4 in the parking lot outside, only the silhouette of a Harley-Davidson. Although the closed sign was on the door, the lights were still on and the door was still unlocked; so, the biker walked in.

"Bianca?" Braden's voice called out.

Bianca popped up from her hiding place and gasped in shock at the sight of the otherwise handsome biker sporting a fresh bruise on the side of his forehead and bloodstains on his jacket.

"What the h.e.l.l happened to you?" she exclaimed, as she rushed out to a.s.sist him.

"It's nothing, really," he replied rea.s.suringly, gently brushing aside her hands.

"The rest of your crew, what happened?" she asked him frantically.

"They're fine, they're back at the motel where we're staying," he explained calmly. "The important thing is you'll never have to deal with those goons again."

"Sit down and I'll be right back," she told him, as she headed for the kitchen. "I'll just get a first aid kit and you can tell me what happened."

"I told you, it's nothing."

"Don't play hard man with me," she shot back at him. "You need patching up, and given how much trouble you've caused since arriving here, the least you can do is sit down and accept a G.o.dd.a.m.ned bandage."

Braden didn't argue any further. Instead, he took off his jacket as Bianca returned with a first aid kit. She removed a cotton pad and soaked it in antiseptic before applying it to his forehead bruise. He inhaled sharply through gritted teeth, but refused to wince.

"So, tough guy," Bianca prompted her patient, "why don't you tell me all about your adventures battling the Merrick boys."

Braden recounted how he and his crew beat the c.r.a.p out of the senior and junior Merricks and the rest of the gang. Then, they torched the young hooligans' precious 4x4. This done, they warned them that there would be much worse to come if they ever went near the diner again.

"Men are such thugs," Bianca said with a roll of her eyes.

"Even me?" Braden asked with a brash grin.

"Especially you!" Bianca exclaimed. "Why the h.e.l.l did you have to pick a fight with them in the first place? Life wasn't great with them around, but at least I knew how to manage them: put up with the insults and the abuse, hope no one would p.i.s.s them off, and they'd be gone as quickly as they arrived. Then, you show up and punch the ringleader in the face! You should've just minded your own business and gone on your merry way."

"I didn't like them pushing you around," Braden replied, utterly calm in the face of Bianca's seemingly angry tirade, "so I did something about it."

"You're reckless and violent and stupid!" Bianca continued, sounding more anguished than angry. "You turned everything upside down, you"

Braden launched forward and kissed Bianca a.s.sertively. She squirmed in surprise at his sudden move, but found it surprisingly comforting. Then, she allowed herself to be pulled into his embrace. His hands drifted from her cheeks and he began to run his fingers gently through her hair. She found herself transfixed, as she basked in the intimacy of the moment.

The mysterious heartthrob tenderly pulled her in closer. Then, without thinking, her own hands began to wander across his chest, worming their way underneath his shirt to touch his skin directly. Her fingers felt the well-defined contours and grooves of his muscular torso and the growing physical intimacy began to stir up baser feelings deep inside her.

Bianca realized suddenly what was happening and pulled away sharply, not sure if she was prepared to go that far. She composed herself and straightened her hair before speaking. "I hope you didn't come all the way over here just so you could nail one of the local waitresses."

"I came here to tell you that you don't have to live in fear of those knuckleheads anymore," Braden explained, as his conceited, brash exterior gave way to sincerity. "You're absolutely right about me. I am a reckless, violent thug. I always have been. I can't keep my opinions to myself and someone usually has a problem with what I have to say. When that happens, a fist or a crowbar is the tool I normally use to settle the argument. I had a serious problem with that p.r.i.c.k treating you like dirt. Maybe I had no right to intervene to protect you, but I sure as h.e.l.l don't regret it."

In spite of herself, Bianca realized that she was genuinely falling for this man. He'd swooped in and dealt with a problem she thought she'd have to endure for the rest of her days. Plus, his handsome looks and bad boy demeanor were helping her overcome her inhibitions and apprehensions about him.

Yet, the remaining sliver of caution in her mind continued to cry out. She knew virtually nothing about the guy. He'd be gone in the morning and would likely never return. She couldn't just surrender herself to him, as if he were a knight in shining armor; but, a growing part of her wanted to. She'd felt the first sparks of attraction the minute she'd laid eyes on him. Those sparks were made all the more potent when he'd stood up for her. Despite her fears about provoking the Merrick boys, his defense of her the poor damsel in distress appealed to her on so many levels. Her heart was literally throbbing now and the last sliver of caution finally vanished, as she threw caution to the wind.

Bianca wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him pa.s.sionately. He returned the embrace and caressed her body tenderly, as they stoked one another's pa.s.sions. He reached down and planted his hands behind her knees, lifting her up into the air. She yelped in surprise and clung on tightly to her lover, as he carried her effortlessly into the back of the diner. In her reverie, she did have the presence of mind to flick the light switch off. No need for late night pa.s.sersby to catch a glimpse of what was about to unfold, she thought.

Braden sat her down on a stool behind the counter and began to undress her. She didn't resist as her lover undid her waitress's uniform and opened up her shirt. He kissed her all over her neck and chest and she rolled her head back in pa.s.sive l.u.s.t. At the same time, she ran her hands across his shoulders and back. She instinctively spread her thighs for him, as his hands felt their way across her belly and hips to her thighs. Then, she closed her legs again, so he could roll up her skirt and ease her panties down her legs, exposing her womanhood.

For Bianca, the pa.s.sion was mixed with a feeling of intense vulnerability. With her p.u.s.s.y exposed, she felt totally naked to him already, even though she still had most of her clothes on. But rather than recoil from him, she embraced the vulnerability and meekly spread her thighs. Her s.e.x was wet for him, eager to accept his masculinity inside its silken folds. He undid his belt and pulled down his pants and underwear, baring his manhood. It was hard to see in the dark, but she could make out the sizeable silhouette of his c.o.c.k, already hardened into a thick, solid staff.

Holding onto his shoulders, Bianca moved to the edge of the stool and presented her p.u.s.s.y to her lover. He took his d.i.c.k in hand and guided it towards its mark. She felt a rush of excitement sweep through her when she felt the fleshy tip kiss her l.a.b.i.a, seeking entrance into her most sacred depths. With his manhood in position, he pushed forward with his hips, driving his c.o.c.k inside her. Then, he released a gasp of pleasure, as the soft, womanly flesh engulfed his c.o.c.k. Bianca gasped, too, as she felt the size of his rod inside her. She was a virgin and never had to accommodate anything so big inside of her before. Her inexperienced p.u.s.s.y worked hard to lubricate the masculine guest pushing its way inside.

When the tip of his c.o.c.k kissed the doorway of Bianca's womb, Braden held himself inside of her for a few seconds and allowed her to acclimatize to his presence. Bianca had never felt so overwhelmed in her life. A gorgeous hunk of a bad boy was joined to her at the crotch. The tip of his spear rubbed softly against her cervix and its thick shaft fit snugly inside her love-ca.n.a.l.

Braden cradled her close in his powerful embrace and she reciprocated the gesture, as she came to terms with crossing this threshold. It was an entirely new experience for her, and yet, it felt so right.

Braden pulled out a few inches and then thrust himself straight back into her, making her yelp. He repeated the movement again, then again, accelerating to keep pace with her body's tolerances.

Her p.u.s.s.y stretched to accommodate him, as he thrust inside her. It was painful for her, but she endured as his tender movements gradually became more forceful. He had needs and she was the one who would to provide for them.

His strokes became quicker and more aggressive, while Bianca's p.u.s.s.y lubricated itself to keep up. Before long, the pain was replaced by the wet sliding of his c.o.c.k inside her and her yelps of pain became moans of pleasure. Each stroke sent a spike of euphoria through her groin and into her belly, making her c.u.n.t wetter as it sucked eagerly at Braden's manhood.

The growing o.r.g.a.s.m inside her triggered rhythmic waves of contractions in the muscular walls of her womanhood. These contractions rippled up and down her love-tunnel, caressing and ma.s.saging the length of his c.o.c.k, as it rammed inside her. Her body was eager to spur him on, yet, she cried out for it to release. But, release would not come so soon.

Finally, Bianca squealed like a girl, as an o.r.g.a.s.m rippled up and down her body, setting her belly on fire. She wrapped her legs tightly around her lover's thrusting hips and embraced him closer still. Her body was desperate to receive the virile offering that was surely coming.

Sure enough, Braden's own capacity to hold out was wearing thin. Bianca's o.r.g.a.s.m caused her p.u.s.s.y to tighten like a vice on his c.o.c.k. It was like a warm, wet vice squeezed and caressed his manhood from top to bottom. He grunted aloud from the tightness of her c.u.n.t on his c.o.c.k, but he thrust into her harder still. He ground his crotch into hers, producing liquid slapping noises. His climax was unstoppable and, before long, he could no longer resist the inevitable.

With a deliciously masculine snarl of pleasure, Braden forced his hips in between Bianca's thighs as far as he could go and held himself there. He gripped her hips with dogged determination, while a new sensation invaded her p.u.s.s.y. A jet of warm, sticky liquid erupted inside her, followed by another and another.

In rapid fire succession, Braden unloaded the content of his sack into her vulnerable s.e.x. She embraced her virile lover and used her legs to squeeze his hips into her crotch. She eagerly accepted his masculine tribute to her womanly temple.

The lovers embraced and kissed for several minutes, as they basked in the afterglow of their mutual ecstasy. Still buried inside the young waitress, Braden whispered to her, "Do you still wish I'd gone on my merry way earlier?"

"I think this makes up for it," she giggled in response, still high on the feeling of s.e.x.

They continued to hold each other for a little bit longer, connected at the crotch and snuggling against one another's bodies.

"Thank you, by the way," Bianca murmured softly, "for dealing with Chad Merrick and his crew. I didn't mean to sound ungrateful earlier. I was just so scared of what they might do. G.o.d knows they've done worse in the past."

"They know better now," he rea.s.sured her. "My crew and I made d.a.m.n sure of it."

"And now that you've nailed the waitress at the local diner, you're going to leave and never return," Bianca concluded sadly.

"We're nomads," Braden explained. "We never stay in one place for more than a few days and we call no place home. The open road is our home. I have to leave. I'm sorry."

"I guess it was too much to hope for," she sighed. Braden leaned forward and kissed her softly on the lips. For such a rough thug, he was awfully romantic.

"We usually pa.s.s through the same town twice in a year," he said to cheer her up. "Maybe I'll come see you again."

"And hopefully by then, the Merrick boys will still have learned their lesson."

"I guarantee you; they won't be a problem ever again."

Six months later, the diner was bustling with activity. Once word had gotten around that the Merrick boys would no longer be frequenting the town's diner, people came flocking back to enjoy the food. Bianca was busier than ever, serving customers at all hours of the day. She hired two new staff to help with the extra demand. It felt good to be free from the relentless abuse and the constant, looming threat to her diner. The townsfolk were all too happy to be free from town terrors and their highly placed patron, as well. The ma.s.sive increase in business made it so much better, too.

The police investigated the Merrick crew and the town commissioner's beatings. They also looked into who set fire to Chad Merrick's 4x4. A group of itinerant bikers committed the beatings and the arson, but they had no other clues. No one knew who they were or where they were headed.

Bianca took away a tray full of empty plates and carried them back to the kitchen to be washed. Just as she'd put the tray away, a strange sensation made her gasp in shock. She sat down to rest for a while.

Taking off her ap.r.o.n, she reached a hand up under her shirt and felt her stomach. It felt like she had b.u.t.terflies in her stomach and, at the same time, like something poked her from the inside. She kept her palm resting on her belly and waited a little longer. Sure enough, the poking sensation reappeared, making her stomach flutter gently. Bianca smiled, as she shed joyful tears. Her baby was kicking.

Below are some of Tamara Knowles' other works to enjoy! Tap the covers for a sample

Rough Rider.

Tamara Knowles.

Hannah Kent cleaned the counter top for the hundredth time and watched the second hand of the big, old-fashioned clock move slowly toward the twelve. Finally, a loud click announced its arrival and she said aloud, "Practice time!"

It was now officially 8:30 pm and she could begin practicing her foam animals and designs. The Morning Star Coffee Shop closed at 9:00 pm, but it was rare to have a customer after 7:00 pm. This part of town was almost totally office buildings and was fairly deserted once the office workers went home for the day. Some of the cubicle rats worked late into the night, but when they finally left, they weren't interested in stopping for a cup of high-priced coffee on their way home.

The machines at Morning Star were all computer-controlled, so a barista only needed to know how to select the right b.u.t.ton for the espresso order. Even the latte art was computer-generated, so that the cup vibrated and shook in an exact pattern, as the thick, steaming milk mixture was added to the top of the latte. A trained monkey could probably do this job as well as a struggling college coed and the wages reflected that fact.

Just around the corner was another coffee shop that did not use the computer-controlled espresso machines. For some reason, people were willing to pay several dollars more per cup for espresso created by a skilled barista rather than the pulsing of a transistor.

Hannah had a choice of twelve b.u.t.tons that ranged in color from light brown to black. There was also a choice of eight different patterns that could be applied in the latte foam. All of it was automatic, requiring absolutely no skill. Plus, it fed directly into the cash register, so that the only decision the trained monkey made was to correctly select which cup went with which order from a list on the screen.

But at 8:30, a half-hour before closing, the computer put the cash register into cleaning mode. Anything that cycled through the machines after 8:30 was a.s.sumed to be part of the cleaning process and was ignored. In the rare event that an order was placed after that time, it would be prepared by hand, and then entered manually into the cash register.

Since it only took about ten minutes to clean all of the machines, Hannah had twenty minutes to practice manually making espresso and manually forming her foam figures on the top. A skilled barista could make two or three times her current salary just around the corner or at any of the dozen or so up-scale coffee shops in town. She hoped to be hired at one of them once she refined her timing and foam skills.

Actually, Hannah's true hope was that she would become one of the cubicle rats on the other side of the counter. In fact, getting her business degree in accounting from the local college was why she was now in debt.

Graduation came and went with no job offers; but, her student loans were due. She realized that she needed a job, even if it wasn't in her desired field of study. She had tried bartending for a short time while still in school, but she didn't keep that on her resume. She tried not to keep it in her memory either. It was something she would rather forget. The uniform was relatively skimpy and the customers were mostly drunken college students who were more interested in getting her into bed than tipping her for her bartending services.

The final straw was when the owner told her that she was too beautiful to be behind the bar. He said, "It's making the other waitresses jealous that you are getting more tips. Besides, you could earn a lot more money on the pole."

The pole he was referring to was located in the club, the other half of his establishment. State liquor laws prohibited nudity in a place where alcoholic beverages were served, but there was nothing preventing it in the room next door, especially since there were separate entrances.

Patrons entered the building through a single door from the outside, and then either went into the bar or the club through separate doors which locked separately at night. Since patrons didn't have to go outside the building to carry a drink from one establishment to the other, they didn't violate the "taking beverages outside" portion of the liquor laws when they carried a drink from the bar to the club.

Hannah was beautiful, and she moved like a dancer, but she wasn't desperate enough...yet...to start stripping in public to pay off her student loans. She was desperate enough, however, to spend twenty minutes each evening practicing her barista skills.

She had just finished her second foam giraffe when she heard a commotion outside. She had a panic b.u.t.ton under the counter that would lock the front door. Just behind it was a second b.u.t.ton that could summon the police. They were the owner's concession to the fact that the area got a little rougher after dark.

A figure appeared at the door. He was obviously a biker, but he didn't look threatening. In fact, he looked scared. Hannah's fingers hovered over the panic b.u.t.ton as she watched him, but she didn't press it. He struggled to pull the door open and staggered into the shop.

The young man moved unsteadily across the open s.p.a.ce to the counter, and then walked around the bar to where Hannah stood. Her fingers hovered over the police call b.u.t.ton, but he stopped and said in almost a whisper, "Lock the door. For your own safety, lock the door." Then, he slid to the floor behind the bar.

Hannah immediately pushed the panic b.u.t.ton. A loud buzz and click announced that the doors had indeed locked. Seconds later, five more leather-clad bikers appeared on the doorstep. One of them pulled at the door and rattled it loudly.

"We're closed," Hannah called out. "I'm cleaning the machines. You'll have to come back in the morning."

Two of the bikers held their hands above their eyes and pressed their faces against the window to look closely into the interior. Hannah was afraid that they would break the gla.s.s and enter, but apparently satisfied that she was alone in the locked shop, they walked on down the street.

"They're gone," she said to the p.r.o.ne young man lying almost directly beneath her. As she glanced down at him she suddenly thought, He can see right up my skirt. Then, she realized that his eyes were closed. She also noticed that his face was drawn tight in pain and his hand was holding back blood that was seeping onto his shirt just above his belt.

He opened his eyes briefly and then closed them again, either in consideration of Hannah's modesty or, more likely, as an attempt to deal with the obvious pain. "Please, don't call the cops," he said softly. His voice was more like a hoa.r.s.e whisper, and it was made ragged by the pain.

"You need a doctor," said Hannah, as she knelt beside him.

"No EMTs either," he gasped. "They'd have to report it. Things would get very...complicated." He took several ragged breaths and continued, "Besides, then they'd know that you helped me, and they'd come after you."

"Who are they?" she asked.

"The Devil's Angels," he replied, his voice seeming to grow stronger. "If I wasn't lying on my back, you could see that I'm a member of the Wheels from h.e.l.l. We're rival motorcycle clubs."

"Why are they trying to kill you?" she asked, a combination of fear and concern evident in her voice as she spoke.

"Collateral damage," he replied, as he pushed himself up to a sitting position and leaned his back against the counter with his legs out in front of him. "They really want to kill Micky, but they'll settle for anything with a wheel on the jacket."

He took several slow and measured breaths before continuing, "Both clubs more or less claim the same territory, but we had a truce. That is, we had a truce until Micky O'Brien got caught s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g an Angel Momma in that little city park over on Fourth Street.

"She belonged to the Head Demon that's what they call their president. She started screaming rape as soon as she realized that they were being watched, but the Angels didn't believe her. They beat the h.e.l.l out of her and left her tied naked to a lamp pole with a sign that read, Betraying Wh.o.r.e. Mickey got away, but the truce is over and we're outnumbered about twenty or thirty to one especially after the new defections."

He looked up at her. Suddenly, he looked like an embarra.s.sed little boy and said, "Sorry about looking up your skirt. I'm truly trying to keep my eyes on your face, but you have a very nice body."

There was something about his honesty that caused Hannah to smile back at him. She also took a step or two back and said, "This will make it easier for you. Lie there while I finish cleaning up. Then, if the coast is clear you can leave before I lock up for the night."

"I need you to take me to a doctor," he replied. His face still showed pain and he winced as he moved only slightly.