few seconds later, the light
from the outside motion sensor switched off and plunged the barn
into an inky pitch black.
I knew I wasn't supposed to smoke in the
barn, for obvious reasons, but I wanted to sit a while longer, to
come down from my sex rush which was still running through me like
a raging river. I needed the calming effect that a smoke provided.
I fished around in my jacket pockets and plucked out my almost
empty pack of Camels, along with my battered silver Zippo. I put a
cigarette in my mouth and lit up, inhaling deeply.
I cursed the day I got hooked on the goddamn
things.
I referred to it as my California habit.
I'd started out a clean living twenty one,
but hanging with California gang, MCC Iron Beaters, for eighteen
months, had got me into a lot of stuff I shouldn't have. Smoking
cigarettes, dope, heavy drinking, doing drugs, real dirty girls...
there weren't any sins and substances I hadn't tried. The hard
stuff I had no interest in pursuing. I'd got past my curiosity
fast. Once was enough. I'd seen the spaced out look of hopeless
addiction on the older guys faces as they shot up with H – guys
who'd been doing it a while – and needed more and more to get a
high – I didn't wanna join their number. But unfortunately,
nicotine had become ingrained in my brain. I was constantly trying
to give the wretched white sticks up. Me and Kicker both. Not so
easy. Fucking impossible in fact. We both agreed on that. It was
shit awful habit to break. But I kept on trying. God knows why.
I let out a long stream of smoke, and my
head buzzed pleasantly, a soothing raft of nicotine flooding my
veins.
I wondered what she was doing now.
Asleep? I guessed not.
More likely lying awake in the dark thinking
about me and what we'd done together. I hoped some positives
crossed her mind, along with the overriding negative that had my
name on it.
I remembered her positive point very
clearly. The look on her face when she came. I wanted to see that
look again - a whole damn lot of agains - to watch the way
her eyes rolled and her mouth opened with a throaty little gasp -
the deep muscular spasms which followed which sent me sailing off
into mind-blown-man land.
I'd wanted to eat her. At that point she
belonged to me. I'd made her feel real damn good... only for a few
seconds... but I hoped it stuck in her mind a whole lot longer than
that.
I needed all the help I could get, because I
was damn sure I faced a real challenge on Sunday, getting her to
come out with me was going to be a trial.
I wouldn't blame her if she never spoke to
me again.
My eyes accustomed themselves to the dark
and I got off the bike, kicking the stand down and heading for the
bunk house where I slept. It made life easier if I didn't sleep in
the house with my Dad. We didn't always see eye to eye. Actually we
didn't ever see eye to eye. It had been a lot worse since I
left home for that eighteen months of free living when I was twenty
one. I thought I was entitled to do that, but apparently, he
didn't. The family had a ranch to run, and this was where I
belonged, he'd argued with me more than a few times on the
phone.
It had taken a while for me to see that,
actually, he was right. Although I wouldn't have traded in my time
with the Breakers for any amount of gold, I didn't want to become a
bike obsessed, dope addicted, low grade human. A loser. And that's
where I'd been headed. I'd done the wild ride. I'd hung with
California's meanest badass fuckers and lived to tell the tale. And
fuck, could I tell a few tales.
Jeez... those guys were crazzzzeeeee
bastards.
I sniggered to myself, a very amusing
Breakers memory flooding my brain, as I walked across the yard.
The bunk house was in darkness as I slipped
in quietly and locked up behind me. I poured myself a glass of
water and gulped it down before making my way to my room. The bunk
house had ten small rooms, all the same, nicely done out, with
basic and functional furniture.
I turned the corner
from the outside motion sensor switched off and plunged the barn
into an inky pitch black.
I knew I wasn't supposed to smoke in the
barn, for obvious reasons, but I wanted to sit a while longer, to
come down from my sex rush which was still running through me like
a raging river. I needed the calming effect that a smoke provided.
I fished around in my jacket pockets and plucked out my almost
empty pack of Camels, along with my battered silver Zippo. I put a
cigarette in my mouth and lit up, inhaling deeply.
I cursed the day I got hooked on the goddamn
things.
I referred to it as my California habit.
I'd started out a clean living twenty one,
but hanging with California gang, MCC Iron Beaters, for eighteen
months, had got me into a lot of stuff I shouldn't have. Smoking
cigarettes, dope, heavy drinking, doing drugs, real dirty girls...
there weren't any sins and substances I hadn't tried. The hard
stuff I had no interest in pursuing. I'd got past my curiosity
fast. Once was enough. I'd seen the spaced out look of hopeless
addiction on the older guys faces as they shot up with H – guys
who'd been doing it a while – and needed more and more to get a
high – I didn't wanna join their number. But unfortunately,
nicotine had become ingrained in my brain. I was constantly trying
to give the wretched white sticks up. Me and Kicker both. Not so
easy. Fucking impossible in fact. We both agreed on that. It was
shit awful habit to break. But I kept on trying. God knows why.
I let out a long stream of smoke, and my
head buzzed pleasantly, a soothing raft of nicotine flooding my
veins.
I wondered what she was doing now.
Asleep? I guessed not.
More likely lying awake in the dark thinking
about me and what we'd done together. I hoped some positives
crossed her mind, along with the overriding negative that had my
name on it.
I remembered her positive point very
clearly. The look on her face when she came. I wanted to see that
look again - a whole damn lot of agains - to watch the way
her eyes rolled and her mouth opened with a throaty little gasp -
the deep muscular spasms which followed which sent me sailing off
into mind-blown-man land.
I'd wanted to eat her. At that point she
belonged to me. I'd made her feel real damn good... only for a few
seconds... but I hoped it stuck in her mind a whole lot longer than
that.
I needed all the help I could get, because I
was damn sure I faced a real challenge on Sunday, getting her to
come out with me was going to be a trial.
I wouldn't blame her if she never spoke to
me again.
My eyes accustomed themselves to the dark
and I got off the bike, kicking the stand down and heading for the
bunk house where I slept. It made life easier if I didn't sleep in
the house with my Dad. We didn't always see eye to eye. Actually we
didn't ever see eye to eye. It had been a lot worse since I
left home for that eighteen months of free living when I was twenty
one. I thought I was entitled to do that, but apparently, he
didn't. The family had a ranch to run, and this was where I
belonged, he'd argued with me more than a few times on the
phone.
It had taken a while for me to see that,
actually, he was right. Although I wouldn't have traded in my time
with the Breakers for any amount of gold, I didn't want to become a
bike obsessed, dope addicted, low grade human. A loser. And that's
where I'd been headed. I'd done the wild ride. I'd hung with
California's meanest badass fuckers and lived to tell the tale. And
fuck, could I tell a few tales.
Jeez... those guys were crazzzzeeeee
bastards.
I sniggered to myself, a very amusing
Breakers memory flooding my brain, as I walked across the yard.
The bunk house was in darkness as I slipped
in quietly and locked up behind me. I poured myself a glass of
water and gulped it down before making my way to my room. The bunk
house had ten small rooms, all the same, nicely done out, with
basic and functional furniture.
I turned the corner
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