Whiskey's Second Chance

50: Relief

Whiskey POV

Kayla. She is alive. Standing in front of me disheveled and dirty, but alive and standing in front of me. Looking over her body, her shirt was torn across her chest, revealing more than I wanted, and her leggings were ripped, but they left her virtually unharmed.

My eyes trailed back up her body to her green eyes and a sense of safety and relief flooded her eyes, and I could breathe again. Reaching up, I grabbed her waist, lifting her out of the back of the truck and into my arms. I buried my head in her hair, holding her as close as possible.

"We need to go," Killer said, clapping my shoulder.

Pulling away, I led Kayla to my bike and grabbed the helmet to put it on her, but stopped. As much as I want to take her home and make her mine, I have club responsibilities to finish first. "I would love to take you home right now, but I have to help my brothers first," I said.

"It's okay Whiskey, I'm not going anywhere. Do what you need to do," she smiled, brushing some hair away from my face.

"I'm not leaving you," I answered. "You're coming with me," I growled, unwilling to let her leave my sight again, afraid I would lose myself completely.

Kayla smiled and placed a gentle kiss on my cheek, causing me to close my eyes and grip her hips tighter, needing to feel her.

"Well, I'm glad everyone is back where they belong," a familiar voice chuckled behind me. Tiger and Ace smiled at us, and I didn't think they would be home for another week. Guess they cut it short.

"Now, let's get these girls a place they belong," she said, nodding towards the full vans.

Kayla and I agreed, and everyone finished loading up and headed to the safe-house. Normally, I would send Kayla back to the clubhouse, not wanting her to know the real business of the Phoenix Riders, but after what she went through, she deserves to know. I never wanted to bring her into this life, or see the horrors we do on the job, but she has, and she still helps without question.

Ten minutes later, everyone loaded up, and we headed to the safe-house. Putting the helmet on her head, I noticed her shaking. Grabbing her hands, I kissed her knuckles, trying to ease her nerves and adrenaline, but I stopped.

You can't just kiss her, idiot. You see what happens to these women, and they sure as fuck don't want to be touched. Back off, or you'll scare her away.

Dropping Kayla's hand, I tried to smile, but that didn't happen. She looked disappointed, and I didn't know what to do.

"What's wrong?" she asked, clearly hurt by my actions.

I shook my head and put the helmet on her, but she grabbed my arms, stopping me. "No, Whiskey. Something is wrong. Did something happen while I was gone?"

"What?" I asked. "How could you think that?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. You went to kiss my hand, but stopped. Do you not want me anymore?"

"No!" I exclaimed. "That's not it at all. I have seen what women are like after going through what you went through, and I want to move at your pace."

"Whiskey," Kayla said, grabbing my hands again. "Yes, what I saw was awful, and I don't want to relive it by any means. But I also don't want to live in the past," she assured me. "If I didn't want you to touch me, I wouldn't have let you lift me out of the truck, or be near me. All I want is to forget," she trailed off.

I thought through what she said, studying her body language and face. She stood close to me, rubbed her thumbs on the back of my hands, and not once pulled away from me like she said.

Nodding, I brought her hands up to my mouth and kissed each knuckle. Kayla smiled sweetly, and I felt a small sense of peace. I grabbed the helmet and placed it over her head before getting on my bike and helping her on.

I could feel Kayla slightly shaking behind me, holding onto me for dear life. "You will be fine. I won't let anything happen to you. I promise," I assured her. She gave a small nod, but her shaking didn't subside. She wants to forget, then I will give her a reason to forget.

Kayla wants to feel safe, especially after the hell she went through. I let my hands run up her thighs, squeezing them slightly. Her breath quickened and hands tightened around my chest.

Using the coms in our helmets, I said, "Love, there's something I need you to do for me." I heard a small whimper and smiled. "Words Kayla," I reminded her.

"Yes," she breathed.

"For the next twenty minutes, your job is to distract me. I want your hands everywhere and when we get to our next stop, I better be as hard as a rock. Think you can do that, love?" I asked.

Her breathing shook as she slowly nodded her head, gathering her words. "I think so," she answered.

Grabbing her hands, I stuck them under my shirt and revved the engine. The hum of the bike caused Kayla to squirm against me. I know she is wet and making me hard from just the thought.

"Twenty minutes, don't let me down," I teased, and I took off towards the safe-house.

For the first few minutes, Kayla's hands didn't stray from my chest. Her movements were timid, afraid of making a wrong move, but I reminded her I said my entire body, not just my chest. Her hands made their way to my thighs and the top of my jeans, but froze, unsure of what to do.

"Trust your instincts, love. Nothing is off-limits," I assured her, squeezing her thigh. Kayla's thighs squeezed together at my touch and I placed one of her hands on my legs, showing her it was okay.

Returning my hands to the handlebars, her hands explored on their own. Eventually she returned to the top of my jeans, and I held my breath, waiting for her to decide how far she would go. She popped the button of my jeans, undid my zipper, and I found my answer.

I could feel her icy hands on my dick through my boxers, and I wanted more. My eyes stayed on the familiar road, but concentrating on it became nearly impossible. We stopped at a red light and my hands were itching to feel how wet she was, but I stayed put. Soft hands wrapped around my cock and I squeezed the gas, causing the engine to rev and Kayla to jump and squeeze me.

Closing my eyes, I relished in her touch, but as soon as her thumb ran over my tip, spreading my pre-cum, I lost what little control I had. Releasing the brake, I blew through the red light, causing Kayla to squeeze me, sending me faster down the street. The faster we went, the faster she pumped my cock, and I didn't want her to stop. I could feel myself on edge, but she abruptly stopped, pulled her hand out, and fixed my jeans. Groaning, I realized why. We arrived at the safe-house and the street was full of other brothers and women.

I pulled over, turning off the helmet and helped Kayla off. Her cheeks were red and when she looked down, seeing my hard-on, she reddened more. Laughing, I kissed her cheek, and whispered, "There will be punishment for not finishing what you started, and I will enjoy every minute."

Teasing works both ways, love, and you have no idea what you just started.

Two hours later, all the women settled into rooms or beds and we had a plan. Tomorrow, those who had family or friends to turn to, we would help them reconnect. Others would stay until they could figure out their next step.

We drove back to the clubhouse and Kayla still didn't tell anyone what happened, or how she ended up in the back of the truck. But all of that could wait; I want her in my bed with no distractions now.

"Church!" Killer called.

So much for my alone time with Kayla.

Killer, along with everyone else, wanted answers, and unfortunately, the only one with them was Kayla. We all filed into the meeting room, taking our seats; all except Kayla, who looked lost and scared with all eyes on her.

Killer turned to Kayla and asked, "I'm sure you would like to get some rest, but before you do, do you mind telling us what happened? Starting with Greece and the airport,"

Kayla took a deep breath, and the words poured out. And it was far worse than what I imagined.