The Harley © Copyright, Ldyjessika®, 2001 - 2011

 (I did not upgrade this story from 2001)

The distinct sound of the engine went through Caitlyn’s senses. Her mind registered, Harley - her body registered Dakota.  It reverberated through her body, until the engine quieted to a purr - then stopped.   She could recognize the sound of his Harley’s engine, without even looking up to find him.   It had such a distinct sound to her of freedom and power – it sounded like him.  Finally, she slowly looked up from her cup of coffee. Dakota was there!  Sitting, wearing his black Levi jeans - watching her - behind his usual shades that hid his eyes.  His black helmet with darkened visor now strapped to the back of the bike – he sat like he owned all that surrounded him.  Legs outstretched to either side of his bike…balancing…as his worn jeans stretched outlining his muscular thighs. 

 She watched him take off his black leather gloves and run his hands through his hair.  She had always loved his shoulder length black hair with the gray streaks at his temples and running through it.

 Reaching into his pocket he took out a strip of rawhide, pulling his hair to the nape of his neck and tying it.   The bike still reverberating but at her low purr, waiting for him to give the signal so she could run the highways.    He unconsciously ran his hand over her gas tank, almost a caress, as if to tell her, calm down…soon. 

 He was looking directly at Caitlyn and she felt his eyes burning into hers even at that distance…even through his shades. 

 Motionless she sat.  Like a deer in oncoming headlights – frozen from movement. 

 She watched him reach for the throttle and in a fluid movement his legs were off the ground  - the Harley took her rider away.   Her eyes followed him, as he turned the bike the opposite direction and rode out of site around the building.  She thought of how he had always called his bike his bitch, referring to it as a her and tinkering for hours over it.  At times all night he would be tuning, or fixing or polishing his Harley bitch.  She shook her head out of past thoughts and back to the present.

 The sound of the engine faded and she stared into her coffee; the empty feeling starting that she thought was finally gone.  Then, like a hurricane of sound the Harley came roaring around the other side of the building.  The black and high polished chrome bitch pulling up to the curb in front of where Caitlyn sat.  The Harley, her engine sounding angered at the inconvenience of stopping… stayed still, slowly purring. 

 She knew that although he was sitting relaxed and looking straight in front of him, that his entire body was on alert…waiting.  He reached in back of him grabbing his helmet and slid it over his head - he continued to sit.   Again, he reached in back of him and pulled another helmet from the straps – hers.  He held it balancing on his thighs, never turning his head to see her reaction.

 Her mind was yelling no more and her body was yelling go to him.  She stood and started to walk the opposite direction…the Harley engine revved calling to her.  She stopped and it quieted to its gravely purr.  She straightened her shoulders and again walked away…it roared her name in command to come to her rider.  She turned…angered… prepared to go up to him and tell him and his Harley bitch to get lost.  She moved toward him as his outstretched arm held out her helmet.  Moving to smack it out of his hand her fingers closed over it and she stood holding it.  The Harley purred with satisfaction, her low uneven sound.

 He slid forward on the seat.  Turning his head toward her, he took off his helmet - his hazel-gray eyes blazed into hers, “Get on!” 

 The word NO blazed through her mind at the same time her hands moved the helmet onto her head.  She walked to the back of the bike but didn't move to get on in back of him.  He reached out his hand palm up – she sighed, shaking her head no, but slid her hand into his.  She slid in her place, tight to his back, as the bike purred her approval.

 He didn't let go of her hand but tucked it on his hip and the bike was turned loose.  The bitch blazed out of the parking lot onto the 580-West highway ramp taking her riders with the wind…the freedom…the power of her sound.

 The contact to his back was solid as she held onto his hips.  She could smell the cologne she had always given him, Drakar, and was surprised he still wore it.  Her arms slowly slid around his waist, locking her fingers in front of him.

 Talking to each other wasn’t possible but Caitlyn felt him slide back against her.  Talking could wait, explanations could wait - it all seemed so unnecessary but that could wait as well.  All that was needed now was this contact with his Harley bitch holding them as a unit of power, grace and freedom.  The Harley carried her riders onto the coast highway taking them away from the city and heading north up the coast.  Her engine running smooth the Harley leaned into the curves as the road climbed and the air became cooler.  Caitlyn almost felt as if the bike was enjoying the ride into the cooler air and hills.  Cailtyn rested against him, her body feeling the song of the Harley beneath her body, as if rocking her into relaxation.  Her body leaned as his body and his Harley leaned, then straightened with them.  She felt like they were dancing on the wind and sound.  A sensual dance in feeling, leaning, and as ever, his Harley purring the same song through their bodies, as one unit. 

 She grimaced thinking of one of her last screaming sentences at him, while she threw a wrench at the bike, “You and that Harley bitch of yours, that’s all you give a damn about!”  Why she was jealous of a Harley she had no idea, nor at this moment cared to try and think about it.  The Harley revved, as if saying that’s okay forget about it.

 Over an hour later the Harley pulled up in front of a deserted wooden cabin in Willis, California.  It stopped facing the door of the cabin.  Caitlyn automatically slid off and on cramped legs walked to open the door.  The Harley, as always, went right up the ramp through the front door into the cabin.  Caitlyn laughed thinking well who the hell cares now if the Harley bitch leaks oil on the floor and walked into the cabin.   

 Catilyn watched as he rolled the bitch onto newspapers in the corner of the large studio room and took off his helmet and shades.  She handed him her helmet and he put them both on the seat of the bike but kept his eyes on her.  Nervously she walked around the cabin, noticing some changes since she was last there.  Her favorite warm quilt was not on the bed, replaced by a new one.  Her books that she would read while he tinkered with his bike were not on the shelf – replaced by a row of wrenches, screwdrivers and other tools.  The nightstand was empty of their picture sitting on the Harley at Sturgis.  She thought he probably should have just cut her out and left him and that idiot bike he was in love with on the nightstand.  Walking around the room she looked for things that belonged to her, but all traces were gone.

 Sighing, she turned to him, “Dakota, this was a mistake, I don’t know why I got on the bike in the first place.”

 She watched him walk over to the bed and sit down.  He untied the strip of rawhide shaking out his long hair and rubbing his hands through it.  He pulled off his leather boots letting them fall with the usual thud, instead of placing them on the floor.  He pulled his denim jacket off and his T-shirt…then patted the bed next to him without answering her statement.

 Caitlyn walked to the bed and sat down intending to finally explain, “Dakota, this is all mixed up and we have to talk it out!”

 His hands were running through her hair as he brought her lips to his, while she was still speaking, “Dakota, I think if we…”

 She felt his lips and her hands automatically wrapped around his neck drawing him closer.  She thought the end of her sentence would not have been, Dakota I think if we make love; but right now that's what she wanted – just once more.

 His arms around her felt so right…so secure.  Her hands ran over the black-gray hair on his chest.  Running her fingers through it as her tongue dueled with his.  She slowly sank back onto the bed.  It was so familiar she knew his every move, as if they were dancing to music only their bodies could hear.   She felt his lips…hot…moving over her lips…down her neck.  Her mind reminded her she was to old to go to work with a hickey on her neck, as she arched her neck giving him access.  His mouth made his mark and his hands had already opened her blouse and bra. 

 They stopped for a moment looking deep into each other’s eyes.  He ruefully smiled and stood up unzipping his jeans.  He slid them along with his black briefs down his long tanned legs.  Reaching out a hand to her, he pulled her to her feet and unzipped her jeans, helping her slide them down her legs.

 She was nervous standing there naked and thought how ridiculous to be nervous with Dakota. She quickly moved back on the bed, only because she didn't feel comfortable standing - he took his place next to her.  She stammered, “Dakota, it’s been awhile but there hasn’t been anyone else.” 

 His hazel eyes seemed to blaze brighter as he leaned down capturing her sensitive nipple in his lips.  Her back arched out of need and the pure pleasure of having his mouth on her…her Dakota.  He pulled on her nipples…taunting…bringing back flames of passion she thought dead.  His hands roamed over her soft flesh, squeezing her breasts…caressing them before again sucking the tips, hard into his mouth.  His lips tasted her flesh and his senses reeled from her scent. 

She felt his hands slowly moving lower and she ached impatiently, needing his long fingers touching her heat.  They moved caressingly over her curly soft mound and played there, pulling on the soft hair.  Pushing her thighs wider he slid his fingers over her, cupping her heat before sliding between her sensitive flesh.  She was moist…needing. 

 Her hips arched and his name came out as a moan of need and pain, “oh Dakota, damn you!” 

 She opened her thighs wider giving over to him, as his fingers found their way to the deeper heat within her.  Why she needed him she had no idea, but his fingers pushing in her body made her thrust down on them, driving them deeper.  She could feel his hard shaft on her thigh…pushing…rubbing up and down as her body moved.   His hard erection was pulsing its need in and age-old message. 

 She looked at him and as always in the past, whispered, “I know, you only want me on my knees.” 

 She went to move but he moved his body over hers, pinning her on her back.  He looked deep in her eyes and pulled her legs around his waist, sinking his male heat deep within her.  His fingers intertwined with hers pulling her arms high above her head, as he slowly began to pump into her being. 

Locking her legs at the ankles around his waist, his mouth came down on hers in a searing kiss of passion and need.  His body was hard against hers…his throbbing flesh thrusting in her depths.   Their bodies began to move in unison of giving and taking.  She met his every thrust and needed more of his fullness in her.

 She heard the low growl of his need deep in his chest, as his body pumped in rhythm, thrusting his thick hardness deep inside of her in possession.  He raised himself on his hands, his arms outstretched as he looked down at her under his body.   His eyes blazed into hers; his slamming thrusts told her she was his…would always be his.   Faster…hotter…the fire within them was out of control and she cried his name, “Dakota, I need you so much!” 

 It was what he was waiting for as his body stiffened for a moment before violent waves of release shook him, taking her with him over the edge.   With a harsh groan of satisfaction and possession he felt his seed pumping deep within her.   Her release was at the same time and she arched her back as her climax sent waves of passion filled sensations spiraling through her body. 

 Finally, he lowered himself to his elbows, resting on his arms.  His head bent, resting his forehead on her shoulder, as their breathing and senses slowly returned. 

 Unhooking her ankles she continued to run her hands soothingly up and down his back.  He didn't move but stayed between her thighs, holding her in place, but with his weight on his arms.  She didn't want this moment to end.  She didn't want to break the feelings between them.  Such a thin thread that could break so easily, but the sun was getting low in the sky.

 She whispered to him, “Dakota, what now – where do we go from here?”

 He didn’t answer but swung his legs off the bed reaching for his jeans.  Silently they dressed.  She wanted to slap him to get him to say something, but he was always the silent one where she always talked things to death.  Well she thought, for once I'm just taking what he had to give.

 In silence he handed her the helmet and outside while he started his Harley she shut the door to the cabin; grateful for the sound of the engine cutting into the silent air. 

 The ride back seemed forever but at least for now they were together.  Her thoughts strayed back to the cabin and how he had pulled her under him.  She noticed that on the ride back he would run his hand up and down on her thigh, once or twice just patting it, as if to say don’t worry.

 Now back in the East Bay, at the coffee stand, the Harley pulled up next to her car - she didn’t know what to say.  She had been the one to end it with those dumb words after he had worked on the Harley until 3 in the morning.  She was just tired of all the towels being full of grease and yelled at him - take that fucking bike, all the dirty towels and get the hell out.  She didn't really think he would go further than the garage but the sound of the bike leaving still haunted her.  She thought, over towels?  What did towels have to do with anything important in life!  But how could she tell him she was jealous of a Harley.

 He sat looking straight ahead, as she got off the bike.  Pulling her helmet off she handed it to him, “Dakota, please I need to say something to you!”  

 He handed her back her helmet and before she could finish saying she made a terrible mistake, the Harley roared away as if yelling at her, you told us to go away.

 The drive to the house was the longest drive she had every taken.  Sighing she started to walk to the door of the house, her mind still back in the cabin with the purr of the Harley still in her ears.  The low purr!  For a moment she thought she had imagined it but as she turned and walked toward the garage she definitely heard that damn Harley sound in the garage.  She opened the garage door and smiled in spite of herself as Dakota sat cross-legged on the floor at the side of his Harley.  Tools in hand tinkering.

 He looked into her eyes and held up a towel, “I bought new towels – will you hand me that wrench?  I’ll teach you if you want to learn how to tune our Harley.”

 Sitting on the floor next to him she handed him the wrench, “No, Dakota, the Harley bitch will always be yours and you'll always be mine, so it’s okay.  Just keep her in the garage and don’t bring her into our bedroom!”

 Dakota threw the wrench over his shoulder and pulled Caitlyn into his arms.