Authors: Mason Lee
Volume Two - Nomad
By Mason Lee
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
This story is intended for mature adults only. It contains sexual scenarios, dirty language, hot action, and much more! Please store your digital files where they cannot be accessed by minors.
And above all – Enjoy!
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Volume Two - Nomad
It was morning.
Bulldog was up early, and felt surprisingly excited about the day, despite the fact that it was a very ugly morning with rain falling steadily outside and the threat of a thunderstorm in the area. He opened his eyes and felt…happy. He had not been so chipper on waking in a long time. He had even jumped in the shower and put on a clean pair of blue jeans and a fresh t-shirt. He put on his chaps and heavy jacket against the rain. They wouldn't prevent him from being soaked to the skin by the time that he got to where he was going, but it would help. He waited around for a little while for at least a lessoning in the rain and then jumped on his bike and headed out. He was lucky, it wasn't that far of a ride to where he was heading, but as was the standard with Bulldog and his luck about two blocks from his destination the clouds opened up and the threatening thunderstorm came to bear. Bulldog gritted his teeth and dealt with it, even that could not break the good mood that he was in.
He came to a stop at the red light of the intersection that had Joe's on the corner. He looked over at the parking lot and was actually giddy when he saw that the white car with the striped bear paw bumper sticker was in the same spot that it had been the day before. He pulled through the intersection and into the lot. He parked the bike in a spot where he would be able to see it though the large side window of the coffee house despite the fact that there were plenty of better spots much closer to the door. He loved his bike as most bikers did and he didn't like not being able to see it. As he walked into the front door of the place he knew why there were so many prime parking spots available. He had never in all of years of coming to Joe's seen it as empty as it was right then. The place was all but abandoned with the exception of an older man wearing khakis and a cardigan sweater eating a breakfast sandwich and drinking a large latte while reading the morning paper. Bulldog looked around, and then walked toward the counter where a pretty young girl was standing. He had never seen her before and assumed that she was the replacement for the inept idiot that had been fired the day before. The only other person that he saw was the older woman who had worked at the place for years. He could never remember her name but she was polite enough. Honestly it had surprised Bulldog that they had brought in a new manger from outside, he would have thought that if anyone was going to replace Jimmy when he left it would have been her. He imagined that the owner had a good reason for not making that choice though and he had to admit that he was glad that he had. If he had promoted the old woman then he would not have ever met Steve.
The door to the kitchen swung open and Steve came walking out to the front service area with his iPad in his hand. He looked up to see Bulldog walking toward the counter and he suddenly found himself smiling. “Suzie, why don't you go and work on those materials that I gave you. I can handle the “rush…” If you have any question just let me know,” he said as he took over at the cash register.
“Well, I'm not sure you will be able to handle this all by yourself Steve,” Bulldog said as he smiled at the manager with an innocent schoolboy look on his face.
“Yeah, it's the weather. Normally when we have rain it actually drives business in. When it comes to a thunderstorm though, everybody wants to just stay in till the danger has passed which I guess I can more than understand,” Steve said. “Speaking of which; you look like a drowned rat.”
“Well, yeah, but I didn't want to take a chance...” Bulldog said. Suddenly realizing that he had let slip out a little too much information.
“On what?” Steve asked.
“On…well not getting my coffee. I didn't want to take a chance on not getting my coffee,” Bulldog replied. He hoped that he had covered the slip well enough, but he could tell that he hadn't and felt self-conscious.
“Well, since you did battle the elements and made it all the way here, what can I get for you, big man?” Steve asked.
“I'll just take…” Bulldog said as he looked up at the menu board as if he was reading it, “Hell, who am I kidding? I'll just take the same thing I take every morning. Grande double brew French roast, black, with a shot of espresso, and a croissant. Also, this morning I think I will treat myself a little and have one of those blueberry scones that look so good in the case there.” Steve smiled and rung up the order before cancelling it out with his mangers ID.
“I tell you what. Why don't you head over there and have a seat I will bring it over in just a few minutes,” Steve said. Bulldog was shocked that he had not been asked to pay but he wasn't going to complain about the guy's generosity. He walked over to the table that he always sat at, the one in the corner between the fireplace and the big picture window that looked out to where his bike was parked and took a seat. He normally stared out the window and thought about what life outside of the town and outside of the club would be like. This day though he found himself looking at the cute bear behind the counter and thinking more about the fact that he was one of the best looking guys and had the best personality of anyone he had met in a long time.
After several minutes Steve came over with a tray that had two cups of coffee and two small plates on it. One of the plates had the scone and not one but two croissants on it along with butter and honey, the other plate had a pecan pie filled donut, a specialty of the house and another croissant. He sat the tray down on the table, “mid if I join you, I haven't had breakfast yet myself.”
“Not at all, please, I would enjoy the company.” Bulldog said.
“Would you like me to turn the fire on? Might help you to dry out a little faster.” Steve asked.
“Nah, that's okay. No point. I’m just sure to get wet again today. Hell, from the looks of things, more than once today,” Bulldog replied.
“True. I know it's a pain in the ass for guys like you, but I love the rain. I find it to be refreshing, thought provoking, even romantic,” Steve said. Bulldog looked over at him over the edge of his coffee cup. Steve started to blush as he realized the way that must have come out.
“I love the rain. Where I'm originally from in Montana it either rains or snows a little almost every afternoon depending on the season. Love the rain, but hate being on the bike in it. Thinking one of these days I may break down and buy a truck for bad weather, but then there would be a lot of flak from the guys over that,” Bulldog stated.
“Yeah, that whole biker thing does tend to lend itself to being on the bike I suppose,” Steve said as he spread some butter on his croissant.
“So have you always been a biker? I mean, is it a family thing like it is with some guys, born into it?” Steve asked.
“No not at all, I was actually born the son of a university professor. He worked at the college in the Montana town that I grew up in.” Bulldog said.
“That explains that.” Steve said.
“In what way?”
“Your mannerisms, your method of speaking, the words that you use. They indicate that you are very educated and come from the cultured background. Not necessarily what you would expect from a typical biker, at least not from what I know of your lifestyle, which I do admit is limited,” Steve said.
“Yeah, he was a professor of archeology. Very refined man. He pushed me from an early age to do well in school and expand my mind. The problem was that I expanded it a little too much. Led to some serious disagreements between us, formed a wedge as I got older. That wedge is what eventually led to my walking out from him and leaving town. I have not been back since.”
“Ain't family great? And your mother if I may ask?” Steve inquired.
“She left us at an early age. Couldn't handle the life of being the wife of an archeologist. When my dad wasn't teaching, which was an all-consuming passion for him, he was traipsing around the world to dig sites or on exploration expeditions. She left when I was 9 she stayed in touch for a couple of years but then she just dropped out of our lives. We would get cards or an occasional letter but never anything significant. She got caught up into her own career I suppose.”
“And what did she do?” Steve asked.
“She was an anthropological Linguist. She studied dead languages and how they impacted modern development,” Bulldog replied. “Enough about me, how the hell did you end up in this arm pit of a town?”
“Well, I was in a relationship for 12 years, thought everything was great and then one day I came home to find him in bed with another man.”
“Ouch…that sucks. Was it someone that you knew?” Bulldog asked.
“You could say that. It was my best friend,” Steve said casually. Bulldog almost choked on his coffee when he heard the statement.
“That's…different.” Steve started to chuckle at the response.
“To say the least. Needless to say, that was the end of the marriage, and the end of my contact with my best friend. Well sort of. I went to his office and confronted him the day that I moved out of the house. I told him I had no idea that he was gay and asked him why he never said anything to me. He said that he didn't know until the very moment that he was cumming in Jerry's mouth the first time. From then on there was no doubt in his mind. Apparently this had been going on for a while. I’m not sure how it got started, didn't ask, didn't really even want to know. I left town that afternoon and as you said, never looked back.”
“Well, at least it wasn't awkward,” Bulldog said with a chuckle. Outside the storm was passing and people were beginning to filter into the coffee house.
“I guess you have to get to work now huh?” Bulldog said.
“Yeah, I guess I do. This was nice though. I hope that we can do it again soon,” He said as he stood up and began to clear the debris from the table.
“How about tomorrow morning? Same time?” Bulldog asked with a smile on his face. He stood and began to get himself together as well.
“I would like that Bulldog…”
“BD. Just call me BD everyone does.” The biker said.
“Well that is more convenient. Does open the door for a lot of other possible interpretations, though,” Steve said playfully.
“Yes it does, and many of those may be well earned,” Bulldog replied.
“Really? That sounds like a conversation for another day. Be careful out there, BD, things are going to be very slick for a few hours,” Steve said as he turned and started to walk away. “See you tomorrow.”
“Yes, you will,” Bulldog said as he walked toward the door.
Bulldog walked into the clubhouse of the Beasts M.C. and walked over to one of the tables.
He sat down and looked over at the TV where the baseball game was being on. “Hell of a game. Want a beer?” Charlie said as he stepped over and pulled the other chair at the table back. He swung his leg over the back of the chair high and wide, as if he was mounting his Harley. It was a habit that all of them had. It was just a natural development of straddling a motorcycle every single day.
“Nah, maybe just a soda.” Bulldog replied.
“You there. Bring the man a soda,” Charlie said to one of the clubs female attendants. She quickly brought Bulldog a can of soda and a small glass with a couple of ice cubes.
“Thanks,” he said as he took the bottle from her and opened it. Charlie looked at him quizzically as if he had done some horrible injustice to the world by saying thank you to a person who was for all effects and purposes a slave. “Glad I got to see you today. Wanted to talk to you, Bull.”
“Well, here I am boss, talk away,” Bulldog replied.
“I'm worried about you brother. We all are.”
“Worried about what?” Bulldog asked as he took a long drink of the soda and focused his attention on the ballgame on TV.
“You are getting more and more distant. Every day it seems you are drifting further away from the club and its core, the brotherhood. Take last night for example, first you didn't take part in the feast…”
“I never do and you know it, you also know why. We have had this discussion to the point of it making me nauseous. You guys do whatever you want. I don't have to kill innocent people and eat their bodies to be a part of this pack, to be your brother. I do everything else that is asked of me and I am there for everything that this club gets into. Hell, most of the time I am on the front line ready to do whatever it takes for this club, for this pack. I will not take innocent blood though. I'm sorry. I just can't be a part of that,” Bulldog said as he leaned back and put his big boots up onto the table crossing one foot over the other and once again looking at the TV.