Torque Read online

  “I still won’t be able to pay you for the repairs though. Would you buy my Sporty?”

  “We can work out some kind of payment plan. I don’t want to take your bike from you. You love that bike.”

  Ronnie smiled and stood from her chair and offered me her hand. “Thanks, Torque. I’ll take the job!”

  I stood and shook her hand. “Good. You can start tomorrow.”

  I didn’t let go—looking down at her hand—so small compared to my mine. We stood still for a brief moment, then her lips parted as she looked up at me with those beautiful brown eyes. I leaned in and brushed my lips over hers. Her breath hitched as I stepped closer, my tongue sliding into her mouth.

  She braced her hands on my chest and pulled away. “No. I can’t. I’m sorry.”

  Ronnie hurried out of my office and took off on the Ninja. Again. I raked a hand through my hair, trying to calm the hard pounding in my chest after that kiss. Her lips tasted so sweet, my dick sprang to full hard-on instantly.

  I rubbed my palm down the front of my jeans before I walked out of my office. I told my brat niece, Kacy about Ronnie’s first day at work as my new employee.

  “No doubt it was Ronnie’s nice legs that helped her land the job, huh Uncle Torque?”

  Smart-ass teenagers…

  Ronnie

  My roommate Heather leaned against the doorway as I primped in front of the bathroom mirror. “He just gave you a job just like that?” She snapped her fingers.

  I combed fingers through my black hair. “Just like that.”

  “Do you trust him? You know he’s going to try making a pass at you.”

  I didn’t tell Heather how his lips brushed across mine the day before. “I know that, Heather. But I do trust him. And I need the job.”

  For my first day at Hardcore Cycles, I squeezed into a pair of leopard print leggings, black lace-up boots, push up bra, and a tight black tank top. I parked the Ninja in front of Hardcore Cycles and climbed off with a smile on my face. Torque stood out front finishing a cigarette.

  “Holy fuck!” His mouth hung open as I strutted toward him.

  “You like my first-day-on-the-job uniform?” I giggled.

  He dropped his cigarette, crushing it with his booted heel. “Like it? No. I love it!”

  Torque introduced me to Skully, his long-time friend and mechanic who was a member of the Chaos Kings MC. He employed two other mechanics, Cooper and Toby. Half of Hardcore Cycles was a big garage where the mechanics worked. The other half was the store, Torque’s office, retail floor to sell bike accessories, T-shirts and apparel, plus a few used bikes sitting on kickstands for sale.

  Torque’s niece, Kacy, showed me around the store counter, the cash register, and inventory in the back room. I remembered being her age and having that teenage attitude. She was a sweet girl, just going through those raging hormones that reign over your mind and body. We got along pretty well, compared to how she interacted with Torque. He was the alpha male and a biker, who doted on his niece, but was also overprotective—just like most uncles are.

  I pull into the lot on my third day at work, and my Sporty was parked out in front of the shop, shiny and beautiful, tilted on her kickstand. I’d swear I heard angels singing. I parked the Ninja and climbed off grinning from ear to ear.

  Torque came walking out of the shop just then. “She’s back to beautiful for you, Ronnie.”

  I couldn’t contain my happiness as I ran and jumped on him, wrapping my arms around him. “Thank you, Torque!”

  He chuckled, wrapping his arms around me. “Don’t thank me! It was all Skully.”

  I stared into those hazel eyes of his and then my smile faded. I planted my feet back on the ground and realized he was still holding me; my tits were pressed against his hard chest, and he smelled like cigarettes and a faint hint of woodsy cologne. I sighed when he leaned down and planted his lips on mine. It was gentle like last time. I couldn’t control myself as my tongue penetrated his parted lips. He tasted so good, and his big hands pressed me closer to him.

  Torque pulled away first. “You’re such a feisty little woman…” He groaned against my lips.

  “O-M-G, Uncle Torque!” Kacy appeared from the garage, her mouth hung open in shock.

  I realized then we were tonguing each other in broad daylight in front of the shop!

  Torque cleared his throat, releasing me. “Go do work, Kacy!” he barked at her.

  My body was heated and flushed all day after that kiss. And it didn’t help any that Kacy gave me the side-eye all day. Torque was distant, too, either working in his office or talking with customers and the mechanics. Later in the afternoon, Kacy clocked out, and Torque made his appearance again.

  He came to the front counter and leaned up against it, folding his hulk size arms over his chest. “I hope my brat niece kept her mouth shut about what happened between us earlier today.”

  I laughed nervously. He was so close, I could smell his cologne again. “She didn’t say anything, even though I’m sure she wanted to.”

  He grinned then. “I’ve never seen someone as happy as you were the moment you saw your bike, Ronnie.”

  I felt my cheeks flush. “I promise I will pay you back as soon as I can.”

  He handed me the pep cot key to my bike. “There’s no rush, Ronnie, really. We’ll figure some kind of monthly payment that you can afford.”

  “Thanks, Torque.” I gathered my things, grabbing my backpack.

  “Wait.” He looked nervous, rubbing the back of his neck. “You want to get some coffee or lunch tomorrow?”

  “I’m your employee now. I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

  “It’s just coffee or a sandwich; that’s all.”

  I couldn’t help but smile, feeling giddy inside. “Sure, okay.”

  I was so nervous the next morning. The only thing that helped me calm my nerves was riding my Sporty again. The vibration and thunder of the pipes, the feel of the bike as I twisted the throttle felt so familiar to me. It was so good to have her back again.

  I spent most of the morning surfing the internet on the computer, deep in thought with promotional ideas, ways to attract customers to Hardcore Cycles. By noon, Torque and I walked to a local sandwich shop only a few blocks away. He was professional as we talked as employer to employee. But I struggled to concentrate on listening to him talk as I looked into his hazel brown eyes, and his male scent made my pulse race.

  We sat and ate lunch together at a small table as I opened the conversation, wanting to know all I could about him. “So how long have you been in business with Hardcore Cycles?”

  “I started from the ground up. I loved tinkering with motorcycles since I was a kid. My old man was a member of a club back in the day called Iron Bastards MC, so I was around it all my life. I took a bike mechanics course down in Florida and then signed a lease on that garage and opened up my business. A few years later, I bought the property, so it’s all mine now. Business has always been good, and I know every club and anyone who rides on two wheels in the surrounding counties.”

  I smiled, swallowing a bite of my ham and cheese sandwich, “Well you didn’t know me, and I ride on two wheels.”

  “Yes, true. You sure did catch me by surprise that day you came pulling into my shop wearing those skimpy-ass shorts!”

  I laughed. “I like to wear revealing clothes when I ride, along with my loud pipes. Gets me noticed by others on the road.”

  “You can say that again!”

  “Thanks again for giving me this job, Torque. And fixing up my bike.”

  “Even though Kacy can be annoying at times, are you liking it?”

  “Yes, I do. I’ve been doing some research, wanting to find ways to help market and brand your shop. Maybe do some events, like a bikini bike wash or a weekend event. Have a local band play, have some vendors set up, sell hot dogs, sodas. Make like a mini biker weekend event. I can look into creating a logo for Hardcore Cycles too. Make it look mean—”
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  Torque’s brows lifted as he swallowed down a bite of his sandwich. “Are you a mind reader?” His shocked look was boyish in a way.

  “Uh. No. Why?”

  “That’s the name of my future business—Mean Machines—I want to start building my own custom bikes!”

  Just when I thought I found the best job, Torque was about to rain on my parade… “Really? But what about Hardcore Cycles?”

  “Hardcore Cycles is my baby. I’m not selling the business, I’m keeping it. I want to open Mean Machines next year. But I need someone I can trust, someone who can help me manage Hardcore Cycles while I work on starting up Mean Machines.”

  Suddenly, I became anxious because I was the type to rush and conclude the worst. Dealing with anxiety that swam in my stomach the past few months was exhausting and wore me down. All because of Wayde. I pushed away all my emotions trying to build a callous tough skin.

  I wiped my hands with my napkin and stood up from the table. “Maybe you should have told me this before you hired me on the spot!” There were only a few customers in the shop, but all heads turned in my direction, and my cheeks felt warm. I turned, aiming to stomp out the door.

  Torque stood suddenly and took hold of my wrist. “Wait! You think I’m firing you?”

  I looked into his hazel brown eyes, my throat dry. “You just said you’re looking for someone you can trust to manage Hardcore Cycles!”

  “That someone is you, Ronnie!” He let go of my wrist. “Now sit back down with me and finish your lunch.”

  I huffed, still feeling the warmth creeping up my chest to my cheeks and sat down. “I sometimes rush to assume the worst.”

  Torque reached over, placing his big hand over mine like he had at the Cantina. “I don’t want to rush anything. I just like to see what’s ahead of me. I see Mean Machines. And I see you.”

  Torque

  I usually went with my gut when it came to important decisions in life, and hiring Ronnie was one of the best decisions I’d made. She worked with a marketing company creating a new hot logo for Hardcore Cycles. She promoted my business with a new sign that hung above the front entrance outside and stocked the shop with printed T-shirts, and other things to attract customers to come in and take a look around.

  It was the perfect day for throwing an open house event at Hardcore Cycles. Ronnie met me early, and she was drop-dead gorgeous, wearing tight-ass jeans and a very low-cut, purple tank top. Some days it was rough to be around Ronnie. Sometimes she stood a bit too close to me, and I could smell her hair or the faint perfume she wore. Then I’d sport a hard-on, having to walk away and find something to busy my mind with at the shop.

  Ronnie organized a bikini bike wash with six of her women friends, including her roommate Heather and coworker Patti clad in skimpy bikinis. The women sprayed each other with water hoses and were covered in soapy suds and laughed, which was very entertaining for gawking bikers waiting to get their bikes washed. It looked like something out of a sexy music video in front of Hardcore Cycles.

  The smell of smoked barbecue and hamburgers wafted through the air as local vendors set up tents in the parking lot, selling everything that attracted bikers—from helmets and small bike parts, to clothing and jewelry. A local band that used to play at the Frisco Cantina offered to play live as long as we paid them. Skully rode in with a few of his brothers in the Chaos Kings MC, along with a few other local clubs, and by noon, the lot was full.

  Ronnie looked a bit nervous and tense that afternoon as if she were waiting for someone. Then I saw him and knew it was her ex-boyfriend, Wayde. He rolled in on an old shovelhead and parked not too far from the group of Chaos Kings’ bikes. He was tall and lanky, wearing his long hair in a braid. Once he climbed off, he headed straight into the shop. I followed close behind.

  The asshole walked up to a couple who were talking to Ronnie as she stood behind the counter. He shoved the man, leaned over the counter, and fisted Ronnie’s tank top with both hands jerking her toward him.

  An automatic reflex and my Smith & Wesson 357 was pulled, the end of the barrel pressed against the back of the man’s right earlobe. A woman screamed. Ronnie’s eyes went wide with both fear and shock.

  “Take your fucking hands off her.”

  The man let her go, raised his hands and chuckled.

  “Turn around,” I growled, my jaw clenched so tight it hurt.

  He turned, and I pushed the end of the barrel to his forehead. His eyes moved rapidly, his pupils dilated. His pale complexion and the shadows under his eyes told me he was high as fuck on meth.

  I kept my eyes on him, my gun steady. “You okay, Ronnie?”

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  He shrugged his shoulders. “The gash is more trouble than she’s worth, asshole.”

  I lowered my gun and fisted the front of his cut. “You comin’ in here was a stupid move motherfucker. You ever touch her again, you’re dead. Now get your filthy ass off my property!” I snarled, shoving him.

  He stumbled backward as I leveled my gun back to his face. He turned and left, and I followed him outside. I lowered my gun, and as people watched, he climbed back on his bike and rode away.

  Ronnie stood close behind me as I watched him ride away. “Wayde?”

  She placed her hand on my shoulder. “Yes. He’s out of control and will not stop…until he hurts me…”

  I turned to her. She was white, her eyes wide. I tilted her chin up. “That’s not going to happen. I’ll handle it.” And brushed my lips over hers.

  Skully walked over to me. “That douche have a beef with you, Torque?”

  I wrapped my arm around Ronnie. “No man. He touched Ronnie and almost got a bullet in his head.”

  The open house was a huge success, thanks to Ronnie. But the fear in Ronnie’s eyes was like a punch in the gut. I finally admitted to myself that I was in love with her. It was hard at times to be so close to her every day and staying as professional as I could. And after what happened to her that afternoon, I already had plans to take care of this Wayde situation.

  The biker community was tight-knit, whether you were a diamond club or not. Meth heads were very predictable, and I knew Wayde would try and find a way to get to Ronnie again. I wanted to make Wayde disappear, like dead-disappear.

  That night after the open house, I told Ronnie to pack some clothes, that she and Heather were to stay at my house for a few days until I solved this Wayde problem.

  She argued with me, walking around the shop straightening things out. “You’ve already done way too much for me, Torque. I’m already so poor I can’t pay attention!”

  “You will do as I tell you!”

  “Don’t boss me!”

  She wouldn’t stand still—making me dizzy—so I pulled her to me. “I will boss you! Goddamnit, I care about you, Ronnie!

  She pressed her small hands to my chest, but I held her still and captured her lips, forcing my tongue into her sweet mouth. She struggled a bit, which only got my dick hard again. I held her firm, and she relaxed, molding close to me and moaned.

  She tasted so sweet as I pressed her soft body closer to me, nipping at her pouty bottom lip and growled, “Are you going to do as I tell you?”

  “Uh-huh,” she breathed, her eyes glossed over with desire.

  Ronnie

  When I heard those words from Torque—that he cared about me—my heart began to race, and a bolt of hot desire race through my body. My body and heart won the battle over my rational thinking, and I couldn’t deny the feelings I had for him.

  Torque’s house was very spacious, and there was a bedroom for each of us. A person’s house told me a little more about that person, and Torque was simple, basic, and not at all flashy or extravagant. There wasn’t much décor, but it looked comfortable and lived in and clean. He gave us a tour, and even though it was only for a few days, he wanted us to feel comfortable.

  It was past midnight two nights later as Heather sat with me in Torque’s living room.
Heather bit her lower lip and fidgeted with her gold necklace. My stomach churned as we both waited for Torque to come through his front door. When we closed the shop that night, he told me he was going to have a meet with some people to take care of the Wayde situation.

  I leaped off the couch as Torque appeared in the front doorway and flung my arms over his shoulders. “Thank God!” I pulled away, my eyes roving down his body. Then I noticed his knuckles. Both of his hands were bloody. “What happened?”

  “It’s nothing.”

  “What happened?”

  “Put my knuckles to work on Wayde’s face.”

  “You didn’t kill him, did you?”

  “No. He’s still breathing, even though I wanted to kill him.”

  I heard Heather’s sob and rushed to her as she began to cry on the couch. “It’s okay, Heather. Whatever Torque did tonight was to help keep both of us safe. And I trust him.”

  Heather clung to me and cried. She excused herself and went to her bedroom to sleep.

  Torque pulled out a rolled-up wad of cash from his jeans pocket. “All the repairs on your bike is paid up now, Ronnie.”

  I looked down at the wad of cash in his paw-like hand. “Wayde was stealing from the Vagabonds MC, and they weren’t too happy about it. Not sure if he’s still alive after I left.”

  I lived every day with anxiety and dread wondering when Wayde would lash out again. I feared for Heather’s safety and my own. It finally took a toll on me, both emotionally and psychologically. I broke down and sobbed.

  Torque was there, wrapping me up in his big, strong arms. “Let it out, Ronnie. After tonight, you don’t have to always be on high alert. You can let it go now because I’m here. And I will watch over you. Take care of you.”

  I clung to him crying. “I’ve always had to watch my back, take care of myself and others I love. I know I’ve made stupid choices and decisions when it came to relationships with men. And sometimes I was put in situations that were dangerous.”