Beauty And The Biker - Sex Stories

Beauty And The Biker

... that white-in-black, 'one percent' patch was smelling fresh meat. I immediately saw where this was going. Holly sensed it too, and she was almost trembling by the time she got old George's attention. She looked as frightened as Bambi in a hunter's gun sights as he came up from behind the counter. "Excuse me, There's something wrong with my car and I can't get reception on my cell. Would you mind if I used your phone to call Triple-A?" Right about then, a scraggly, mean son of bitch called Pan Head came up behind her. "Well, aren't you a pretty little thing. Why don't you let me buy you a beer? I'm sure we can take real good care of you." To her credit, Holly tried to be polite, but I think she'd already caught the smell of too much smoke and alcohol on him and her reply of "No, it's okay. I just need to use the phone," came out with just a hint of disgust. Pan Head's smile instantly turned mean and I just knew what was about to happen. The girl was about to be in a heap of trouble and I stepped up between them and handed Pan Head a cold one. Honestly, I wanted to break him in half, and at six-three and 220 pounds, I could have. He was wearing Jackal colors though, and that alone meant I had to show him respect. "Here, have another beer." I offered. "It sounds like she needs a mechanic more than a friend. I don't think you want to spend the night under her car now, do you?" Pan Head grimaced and glared at me for a second. I could see the gears grinding in his head, but in the ...

... end, he took the beer. "No, I reckon not. I'd rather spend the night with her under me, to be honest, but I guess you got other ideas. You got a real soft spot, Jackson. Be sure it don't get you into trouble some day." He gave Holly one last, long predatory gaze and then moved away to the raucous laughter of his friends. That's great, I thought. I just knew I was going to pay for that one. Holly looked like she was going to be sick. "Oh, my god. Thank you. Is he a friend of yours?" "No, I wouldn't exactly call him a friend. Look, I'm Jackson. I've got a garage right around the corner and more than likely, I'd be the one Triple-A would send to help. How 'bout I go see what we can do about your car? This ain't a place you want to be, anyway." I had a pretty good idea what the problem was as soon as I got a look at her ride. The 2007 Mini has a known timing chain issue that starts with a severe rattling and loss of power. Not wanting to leave her alone with Pan Head and his crew sniffing around, I took the risk and nursed it down the street and into the garage bay. By then, Holly was was visibly shaken and hardly blinked when I told her the problem. "Oh my gosh. That sounds bad," she said in what was more of an understatement than she wanted to know. "Can you fix it?" I smiled and tried my best reassure her. "Sure, it's gonna take some time, but yeah, no problem. Parts are another issue. I'm afraid I can't do anything tonight, but I can have you back on the road tomorrow. It's ...