Chrome and Hot Women: Wayward Angels: Book-1 Read online

  "Really?"

  "Really." Shannon chuckled.

  Cece pulled in the clutch lever, her foot slipping the gear shifter into neutral. She flipped the on switch, pulled in the brake lever on the right handgrip and pushed the starter button. The engine roared to life. She gunned the throttle a couple of times, feeling the Ducati's power course through her. She sat there letting it idle a couple more minutes, then she shut down the power switch, not wanting to asphyxiate the two of them.

  "Wow! What more can I say?" Cece was grinning like a little girl.

  "I take it you approve?"

  "Indeed I do! Now you know I've got to come out and watch you race this monster."

  Cece dismounted the bike and the two of them headed for the house. Unlocking the side door, they stepped inside. Shannon switched on the light in the mudroom, so they could see their way into the kitchen.

  "Want a drink?" Shannon asked, heading toward the refrigerator.

  "Yeah, sounds good."

  "What'll it be? I have water, filtered by Britta, apple juice and beer."

  "Beer sounds good. Thanks."

  Shannon grabbed them each a cold Coors out of the fridge. She opened them both and handed one to Cece.

  "I still can't get over your bike, man. It's beyond awesome."

  "Glad you like it. Come on," Shannon gestured toward the living room. "This is where I spend my downtime."

  The spacious living room sported a comfy-looking navy blue couch and easy chair on a medium-blue carpet. There was a fireplace where a couple of Shannon's racing trophies sat. They were flanked on both sides by framed photos of her holding a trophy with a million dollar smile and one of her in action on the track.

  The pair ascended the stairs, where there were a couple bedrooms and a bathroom. Shannon explained that one of the bedrooms was the designated junk room.

  Then she showed Cece the master bedroom. It had its own bath and shower and a window that opened up on a beautiful view of the Flatiron Mountains. She also couldn't help but notice the luxurious four poster oak queen-size bed in the center of the floor. The white comforter looked so fluffy and inviting. She would love to roll around in it with Shannon sometime. Easy, Cece. You can't let your mind catch up with your body here.

  "Let's go downstairs and relax," Shannon offered.

  Cece followed her down the short set of wooden stairs. "You have a beautiful home."

  "Thank you."

  "Looks like you've won a trophy or two with your racing?" Cece steeped over to the fireplace.

  "Yeah. First place seems to be alluding me though," Shannon sighed.

  "I have no doubt, with your determination, you'll get there."

  "So many younger women with more stamina than me are entering the fray tough. I'm one of those old veterans now."

  "You don't look so old to me."

  "I just turned thirty-five a couple months ago. I'm a Saint Patrick's Day baby. Matches my Irish heritage, don't you think?"

  "So you're only four years older than I am. I will be thirty-two in November," Cece drained her bottle of Coors.

  "Can I get you another one?" Shannon asked.

  "Yeah, I'll take another one. Thanks."

  Cece watched as Shannon walked toward the kitchen. She could feel her excitement rise as she observed her fine backside. Whoa! She would sure love to test Shannon's stamina in the bedroom! There was definitely some chemistry going on here.

  Shannon broke her daydream and handed her the bottle of beer.

  "Thank you, again for your hospitality. I better make this the last one. I still got to drive back to Longmont tonight."

  "You can spend the night here if you want. As you can see, I've got plenty of room. I have the couch, along with extra blankets and a pillow, or you can sleep in my bed. I won't kick you on the floor, I promise."

  "I think I might take you up on that. The couch will work just fine. I've spent many a night on those."

  As much as Cece wanted to share a bed with Shannon Storm, she didn't think she would be able to control herself as far as making a move on her. She didn't want to come off as too forward or pushy. If this relationship was going to go somewhere it would, in its own time. Shannon was different than other women she had been with in the past and she didn't want to blow the possibilities.

  Shannon and Cece watched a compilation of Shannon's racing career on DVD before turning in for the night. Shannon brought Cece out a sheet, blanket and pillow, while Cece retrieved her overnight bag from her truck. She always packed one-just in case.

  Shannon helped her tuck the bed sheet in around the couch cushions. Cece brushed her teeth then returned to the living room where she took off her boots and stripped down to her undies and t-shirt.

  "Remember, I'm right upstairs if you need anything," Shannon offered.

  "Thanks for everything, Shannon."

  "Well, I suppose I'll say goodnight then."

  "Goodnight. Pleasant dreams."

  "You, too."

  After Shannon went upstairs, Cece pulled the blanket up under her chin. Oh, how she had wanted to follow her upstairs and join her in that bed of hers! Control yourself, Cece. Take your time now, woman. They say good things come to those who wait. She had always wondered who the hell 'they' were. And how the hell did they know so damned much anyway? Sheesh! 'They' weren't horny. With that thought, she drifted off to sleep.

  ***

  Shannon climbed the stairs and headed for her bedroom. Damn, I hope I wasn't being too pushy. No doubt Cece could see right through my ploy to get her up here and into my bed! She slipped off her clothes, laying them on a chair and walked into the master bathroom to brush her teeth. Standing there naked before the mirror, she checked out her reflection. She longed for a woman to touch her, to kiss her. She admired the firm muscles in her arms and the red and blue starburst tattoos that ran down the length of them. She knew she was a desirable woman, but did Cece Myers find her to be? Good question. Why didn't Cece make a move on her? Was she seeing someone?

  A thousand and one questions still kept running through her mind as she climbed into bed. She preferred to sleep naked, as she loved the feel of the soft sheets against her body. She had been that way since she was a teenager. She just felt free with her nudity. She longed to feel her naked body against another woman's. The very thought of snuggling up in bed with Cece Myers made her heart race. Be patient, Shannon. It could happen yet. She secretly hoped that Cece would ascend the stairs and climb under the covers naked with her.

  As the morning rays of sunshine pierced between the curtains, she realized that Cece wasn't in her bed. Darn! She got up and grabbed a towel for her morning shower. After warming the water, she stepped inside. As the soothing water cascaded over her breasts, she thought about how wonderful it would be if Cece opened the door to the shower and stepped inside to join her. What a pleasant morning thought. Have patience, Shannon, last night was your first official date with the woman. Give her time to get to know you.

  She stepped out, toweled off and put a fresh pair of underwear on and slipped on a pair of jeans along with a red Ducati t-shirt. Then she made her way downstairs. To her surprise, Cece was already up and dressed. "Good morning, Cece. I hope you slept well?"

  "Oh, yes. You have a very comfortable sofa, lady."

  "Have you been up long?"

  "Oh, about an hour is all. I guess I'm so used to getting up for work early."

  "I know what you mean. Old habits die hard. Come on in the kitchen and I'll whip us up some breakfast."

  "Under one condition, you let me do the dishes. Deal?"

  "Deal." Shannon chuckled.

  Shannon got a carton of eggs and a couple slices of ham out of the refrigerator. After laying the ham slices in the frying pan, she put on a pot of coffee.

  "How do you like your coffee, Cece? God, I didn't even ask if you like coffee."

  "Oh, hell, yeah. I couldn't start my day without it. And to answer your question, strong and black."

&
nbsp; "Me, too. What are your plans for today?"

  "Well, I need to check my email to see if anybody else has volunteered to help out with the poker run and touch base with them if they have. I still need to get a hold of Staci Walker, at Realm Of Caring, too. Then, if I have any extra time, I'm going to try and hunt down some parts for the Triumph."

  "Sounds like a busy schedule. You can check your email while you're here if you want."

  "Cool. I think I'll take you up on that."

  Shannon started frying the eggs and poured them both a cup of coffee and a glass of apple juice. It didn't take long until the hard cooked eggs were ready.

  "I suppose I should have asked you how you like your eggs instead of assuming you like them the way I do."

  "No. Not at all. I love them that way. Do you have some hot sauce by chance."

  "Yes, I do," Shannon said, grabbing a bottle of Frank's Red Hot out of the fridge. "Will this do?"

  "Perfect," Cece said, "My favorite."

  After enjoying a satisfying breakfast, Shannon brought her laptop into the kitchen so Cece could check her email.

  "Looks like a couple more women have signed up for the poker run."

  "Great!" Shannon said.

  "No kidding. You usually have one or two that have a change of plans, so it's always good to get extra help."

  "Oh, by the way, has Kim signed up?"

  "No. Actually I haven't heard from her since we had our little talk on Sunday."

  Chapter-5

  What's Up With Kim?

  Kim Hall opened the door to her apartment in Denver, that Sunday evening. She was seething. How dare Cece Myers take her to task and embarrass her in front of the other club members! The bitch sure did have a lot of nerve! So she didn't want that frumpy-ass Karen Bates teaching the other women how to change their stupid oil! It wasn't all that hard!

  She tossed her helmet over on the couch, where it promptly bounced off. She walked over, snatching it by the strap and slammed it down onto the cushion. She plopped her butt down next to it, crossing her arms across her abdomen.

  She felt she should have been the next president and club leader of the Wayward Angels, not Cece Myers. Cece thought she was so damned special. What a fucking cunt!

  The former club president, Stephanie Wells would have let her slide on the whole oil change thing. She would have never made such a federal case out of it. And Stephanie wasn't a goddamned dyke like most of the women in that club. Ugh! Sure, she might have looked like a tall, skinny butch. She stood six feet tall and had a buzz cut, but it was because she found it more comfortable riding with her hair short. She sure as hell didn't need any woman trying to put the moves on her! The very thought disgusted her. She hated watching the women at The Lavender Light dancing and putting their hands all over each other. Yuck! She didn't see why they had to have their meetings there in the first place. Her objections so far had gone unheeded. It was as if they were trying to overtly recruit her into their chosen lifestyle. She didn't think for a second that a person was born gay. There was no way God made people that way.

  When she was in nursing school, studying to get her LPN, one of the other women in her dorm made sexual advances toward her. Despite a few strange and different, almost exciting feelings that came over her, she pushed her away and set her straight immediately. She told her to keep her fucking hands off in so many words.

  Kim had recently attended a couple club meetings of a fundamentalist Christian motorcycle club called the Son Risers MC. This group was all about spreading the gospel throughout Colorado and surrounding areas. This club went by Biblical principles and she found this more to her liking. To hell with all those dykes in Wayward Angels! Who needed them anyway? How any straight women could be members of that club was beyond her. It didn't seem to bother her best friend in the club, Marilyn Miller, however. She would have to try and get Marilyn to attend a meeting of the Son Risers, with her. She owed it to her friend to get her away from that nest of lesbians before she became one of them.

  And why hadn't Marilyn stuck up for her at today's meeting? She picked up her phone, damned well determined to find out. She touched the screen.

  "Hello?" the voice on the other end answered.

  "Hi, Marilyn. Kim."

  "Oh, Kim. What's up?"

  "Well, since you didn't stick around to find out what Cece said to me after the meeting, I thought I might clue you in, That is, if you're interested."

  She was still pissed that Marilyn didn't stick around to lend her some moral support. What were friends for, after all?

  "Uh, yeah. Shoot."

  "Well, Cece more or less gave me a warning."

  "Oh?"

  "She said if I didn't straighten myself up and stop trying to sabotage the club, I would be out. That's the way I read it anyway. Who the hell does she think she is?"

  "The club president. Kim, do you really think it was wise to nix the oil change class that Karen wanted to teach? She was only trying to help."

  "So you're on her side now?" Kim was getting irritated.

  "I didn't say that silly. What was your motivation anyway?"

  "Motivation? Oh, fuck, I don't know. Karen Bates thinks she's a know-it-all."

  "Well she is a motorcycle mechanic with the credentials to prove it. It's always great having somebody along on a group ride that has your back in case of a breakdown on the road."

  "I suppose, but..."

  "What I don't get is why you don't like Karen. She seems like a nice woman to me the few times I've talked to her. You even got along with her yourself when you first joined Wayward Angels last winter."

  "I was really looking for your support at the meeting, Marilyn. Anyway, forget it. I went to a couple of the Son Risers Motorcycle Club meetings. They're a fundamentalist Christian club. I think I'll find it more to my liking. Would you like to go to one of their meetings with me? The next one is this coming Saturday. They're supposed to have a guest speaker that's written a book about how his sister's being gay has torn their family apart."

  "What have you got against gay people, Kim? There are a lot of wonderful gay people out there."

  "It's wrong, that's all. Anyway, will you come?"

  "I'll think about it, Kim. That's all I can commit to."

  "I hope you do. It could change your thinking about the whole issue."

  "Well, I've got to get my laundry done before I go back to work in the morning. Talk to you soon. Bye."

  "Bye." Kim disconnected the call.

  Oh, how she hoped Marilyn would go. She really needed an ally.

  ***

  Saturday arrived and Marilyn Miller had agreed to attend the meeting of Son Risers MC, where Ryan Savage was going to be doing a presentation on his new book, My Gay Sister's Keeper, an autobiography mostly about his own life, the sin of being gay and his own disappointment with his lesbian sister, renowned Denver architect and designer, Kelsey Savage.

  Kim was ecstatic that her best friend, Marilyn had decided to attend the club meeting and book signing with her. She rode her Honda Shadow up to Marilyn's log house on the outskirts of Denver. Marilyn, a small framed woman in her late forties, was VP of a huge cosmetics firm and could afford such luxuries.

  Kim rode her bike up the winding gravel driveway to her home. An inexperienced rider would have more than likely dumped their bike on it. Arriving at the top, Marilyn greeted her in her garage. She was getting her BMW motorcycle ready by giving it a pre-ride inspection.

  "I'm so glad you decided to come with me," Kim said, lifting the visor on her full-face Nolan helmet.

  "Well, I am kind of curious about this new club you're interested in. Do you need a pit stop in the little girl's room before we take off?"

  "No, I'm good. Thanks anyway."

  "All right then. Let's get this show on the road," Marilyn said, buckling the strap on her own half-helmet. She swung her leg over the saddle and pressed the starter button. The engine on the K-1600 roared to life. She pulled in the clut
ch, making sure the machine was in first gear, then let the clutch out slowly, pulling it outside her garage doors before shutting them with her remote.

  Kim often wondered how Marilyn managed that huge bike, but at just over five feet tall, the woman was a dynamo. Marilyn motioned for Kim to go ahead so she could show her where to go. The two women carefully navigated their motorcycles down the gravel drive, then pulled out onto the asphalt stretch leading to the main highway. Kim had opened up the venting zippers on her leather jacket and the wind felt good. Marilyn followed in staggered formation several feet behind her.

  The club meeting place was close to downtown Denver in an industrial area. They pulled up to a garage that had a huge painted mural featuring a cross with sunbeams. Below that it read:

  Son Risers Motorcycle Club

  Denver, Colorado

  "We Live For The Son"

  They pulled up to an angled parking space and backed their bikes into it, making sure they were both in gear, so they wouldn't roll backwards and fall over. Locking them up, the pair walked toward the door of the club. There was a poster on the door featuring a photo of Ryan Savage holding his new book. They stepped inside.

  Up against the far wall stood a podium with a speaker and microphone. Next to it was an eight foot table full of brochures and stacks of books for sale, along with a folding chair behind it. No doubt set up for Ryan Savage to sell and sign his books.

  Kim introduced Marilyn to the Son Risers president, Devon James. Devon appeared to be a man in his late thirties. He wore a full beard and mustache and wore a pair of faded jeans along with a sleeveless dark blue t-shit with the Son Risers logo on it. He had a rugged looking Jesus tattooed on one arm and a cross on the other. He was quite a muscular man who obviously took good care of himself.

  "Devon, I would like you to meet a good friend of mine, Marilyn Miller," Kim said.

  "Pleased to meet you, Marilyn," Devon smiled with a gapped front teeth. He had a golden cross earring in his left ear. Give the man an eye patch and he would have looked like a pirate. "Please help yourself to some of the goodies and coffee along the wall over there," he pointed. "We have about twenty-five more minutes until the program starts."