Page 2 of A Brother At My Back

I looked up from the bottle of beer in my hand and glowered at my buddy, Unkind. “The fuck you talking about?” I demanded. He pointed with his own bottle of Bud before swilling some down. I turned and raised an eyebrow. Fuck. Me.

It was the girl from the bank a few days back, the one with the old woman’s name. Mildred… no, Matilda! That’s right. She stopped next to me and trailed fingertips over the seat to my new ride.

“So this is what you were after, then?” she asked, lightly.

“Yeah, you like it?” I asked, and the two brothers I was with started laughing at me.

We were at a house party, the yard strung up with lights between the trees, some of that modern hip-hop rap shit blaring out of the house. I was a classic rock man myself, and whatever this black bastard was hopped up on, he was fucking annoying as shit. Kept going on about baby got back. Of course, I couldn’t complain too much, I did enjoy some of the shit I grew up listening to sometimes, which included Mariachi. I was proud of my wet-back beaner heritage.

“It’s nice,” she said, and she was standing real close-like, looking up at me. I sort of remembered her being taller at the bank.

She was a pint-sized thing in a white peasant blouse and cut-offs that didn’t leave a fuck of a lot to the imagination. She had shapely legs despite being such a short shit, and I wouldn’t mind too terribly much gettin’ between ‘em. Shit, the girl had it going on.

“Matilda, right?” I asked, taking a drink of my beer, playing it cool in front of my Bros who were each watching me, grossly fascinated. She made a face like she’d tasted something bad and looked down at the bike.

“I hate that name. My mom and dad are German, they thought it was great. My friends call me Tilly.”

She looked up at me again and damn, those big brown eyes slayed me. I was getting hard in my jeans and it was getting a mite uncomfortable. Didn’t help that the little minx wasn’t wearing a bra under the thin rag she had on, her nipples pert and pressing against the thin fabric. Fuck me swingin’! I loved me a nice pair of titties and Tilly had a gorgeous pair.

“That what we are, Sweetheart? Friends?” I said with a reckless grin.

“Depends, Dragon,” she said slowly with a smartass little smile, she opened her mouth to say more but was cut off by a shrill voice from across the yard.

“Matilda! Oh my god, Matilda! What are you doing!?”

Tilly looked up at me with the fire of mischief in her dark eyes and said, “Oh, we are definitely friends, if you get me away from her,” she said.

I handed my beer across my bike to Unkind, “Say no more, Sweetheart. Climb on.” I got on my bike and she got up after me, her lithe form snug against my back. The woman who had been striding across the yard in our direction shrieked in protest, which I cut off real damned quick by starting up the bike. She was coming across the yard at a full tilt as I pulled us out and onto the road. The high, wild laughter that poured out of Tilly over my shoulder was a fucking turn-on for sure. I was so getting into that pussy if I could help it. God damn!

Three

I drove us out of town and up to the overlook. It was a clear, warm summer night and I figured being up a little higher and out by the river, it might be a little cooler. It damned sure would be a little more private. I pulled into the gravel lot and kicked the stand down on the bike, leaning her onto it.

I got up, stretching a bit, and took a bit to admire the stars. It was beautiful up here, but I was more interested in the beauty on the back of my bike. I turned to catch her sitting cross-legged, her wedge sandals dangling near but carefully away from the hot pipes while the engine and exhaust ticked and cooled.

“So, who was that?” I asked. She made a face and then laughed again. I could easily get addicted to that sound.

“My sister, Margaret. She’s a little over a year older than me and thinks it automatically makes her the boss.”

“You always get on the back of a bike with strange men?”

“Nope. The first time, actually. I kind of live for adventure like that.” She winked at me. Actually winked at me.

“Not afraid I’m going to rape you?” I asked. For some reason, I wanted her safe, and if I had to scare her a little to get her to think twice about pulling this shit with someone else, someone who wasn’t me, I could live with that.

“Can’t rape the willing,” she stated flatly, and gave me a curious look. “You honestly didn’t think I would get on the back of the bike with a dude I thought was ugly, did you?”

I laughed outright. Jesus Christ, she was direct! I liked that about a woman. Thought it was sexy as hell when they knew what they wanted and weren’t afraid to take it or ask for it.

“You want me to fuck you?” I asked incredulously.

“Well, I was sort of hoping you would talk with me first, then maybe you would kiss me a little before we got to that part.” She met my eyes and her own sparkled with laughter. I stepped up to her and she jumped down off my bike and met me halfway.

“You’re really serious, aren’t you?” I asked her. She raised herself on her tiptoes, her hands against the leathers on my chest.

“Yep. You game?” she asked, her breath warm and gentle against my lips.

Fucking hell yes, I was game! I pulled her tight up against me and holy fuck, it was like she was meant to be there. I crushed her mouth with mine, forcing my way past her lips, and she was sweeter than pure sugar on my tongue. The scent of woman and roses surrounded me and I was drunk on it. Drunk on her. I hauled her up my body and her legs wound around my hips. I marched us to the picnic table nearby and set her on her feet, never giving up on kissing her the whole way.

---