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  “Damn straight,” he replied. “Now I’m asking. What brings you back to Iron Creek? I can tell you aren’t part of the club, even if your parents were life-long members.”

  “Maybe it’s because they weren’t my parents,” she answered. “I always thought they were. I always thought they loved me. Then last week, I heard my father’s will.”

  “Yeah,” Maddox replied. “I heard that Jake finally drank himself to death a few months back.”

  “Very honest,” she said. Her voice had gone cool and all expression had left her face. “Unlike my mother and father who very carefully wrote in their will, ‘We acknowledge our love for our adopted daughter, Aimee, and declare her to be a full and complete heir and equal to our true child, James, for the purposes of this will.’”

  “Ouch!” said Maddox. “And that was the first time you knew that you were adopted?”

  “And the first time that I knew that I was equal to their ‘true child’... but only for the purposes of the will.”

  “That sucks,” he said.

  “Being adopted isn’t the problem,” she continued. “A lot of people are adopted and loved very much by their adoptive families. The problem is that I was lied to... and not just about the adoption. Mom lied to me about her cancer. Dad lied to me about his drinking. James lied to me about everything. Everything that anyone has ever told me my whole life was a lie.”

  She took a long, slow sip of her whiskey and coke and then said emphatically, “But no more. From now on, everyone tells me the truth or they’re out of my life.”

  “You’re beautiful,” Maddox said softly. Then he added, “Truth.”

  ***

  They stopped by the motel only long enough to pick up her suitcase. She held it between them as they rode to his apartment on the edge of town. She could come back to the bar for her car later.

  Aimee wasn’t sure why she insisted that they pick up her belongings. Maybe it was part of her requirement for honesty. If she was going to give herself totally to Maddox, then that should be totally, not just for a few hours. Total giving would include living together. Anything less wasn’t honest.

  Maddox’s apartment was a typical single male’s place. It was somewhat clean and things were more or less picked up from here and there. He hadn’t been expecting to bring anyone home. “Would you rather make love in the living room on the couch or in the bedroom on the bed?” he asked as he carried her suitcase inside.

  She looked at him somewhat coldly, and he added, “Just trying to tell the truth.”

  “Then tell the truth,” she snapped back. “We aren’t here to make love. We’re here to fuck. Love has nothing to do with it.”

  “I wouldn’t be totally sure of that,” he replied.

  Her response was to grab him around the chest and pull herself into him. Her lips crashed against his. Their tongues probed each other’s mouths as her hands tugged at his shirt, pulling it free of his jeans so she could reach underneath it and slide her hands up and down his muscular back.

  He reached over her back and began lifting her blouse. “Slow down, cowboy,” she said brusquely. “A girl prefers you work up to stripping her.”

  “I can’t reach up under your blouse like you can my shirt while we’re standing up. I’d have waited with the bra until you were ready.” He kissed her on the cheek and said softly in her ear, “Honest as I can be.”

  She laughed and pulled her blouse over her head. Then she buried her face against his shoulder and returned to rubbing her hands over the muscles of his back. She tilted her head up towards him and their mouths once again found each other. It wasn’t until her hands were working on the buttons on the front of his shirt that she felt his hands fumble with the clip on the back of her bra.

  “Why is it that men are such klutzes when it comes to a woman’s bra?” she asked in a breathy laugh.

  “Because I don’t wear one,” he answered. He pulled back slightly from her and smiled and added, “That is definitely the truth.”

  He ran his hand lightly across her face and added, “And I truthfully think that it’s time for us to move into the bedroom.”

  “If you have to say it, it isn’t true,” she answered. “Just let it be true, don’t say it is.”

  He nodded and picked her up in one easy motion and carried her back into the bedroom. Both Aimee and Maddox would later reflect on the fact that this night was the most honest sexual experience either of them had ever had. Aimee told him to slow down or to speed up or to move his fingers slightly or press harder or softer. And when he asked if she liked something, she didn’t always immediately say, “Yes.” This wasn’t love-making, but it wasn’t just fucking either. It was honest sex.

  In the morning, Aimee woke with her head on Maddox’s chest. She stroked his abdomen and thighs lightly with her hand, and watched as his manhood quickly responded to her touch. Her giggle seemed to be the final nudge that woke him up.

  “What’s so funny?” he asked.

  “I was just thinking about how easy it is to turn a man on. I didn’t touch your nipples or your cock, and yet you’re already standing at attention.”

  “I think women are just as easily turned on,” he replied. “But nipples don’t tent as much, and men can’t tell that your ‘light days pad’ is sopping wet between your legs. Honest answer. Am I wrong?”

  In reply, Aimee kissed his chest and sucked lightly on his small nipples. Then she said softly, “No, you aren’t wrong,” as she swung her leg up over his hips and centered herself over his erection.

  “Just lay there,” she said firmly, “and let me do all the work. I want to be in total control.”

  “What if I don’t want you in total control?” he asked.

  Instead of answering, she impaled herself on his cock and began grinding against him. She was in control and rode him to the edge of climax again and again until she finally reached her peak. Then she thrust herself hard against him and slammed herself down onto his chest as she cried out in release. They climaxed together.

  He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her tightly to himself. “I love you,” he said tenderly.

  “I told you,” she answered. “This isn’t love making. It’s fucking.”

  “You also told me to be honest,” he replied.

  Aimee said nothing, but silently snuggled tighter into his grip.

  ***

  A week later, David Arnold was acknowledged as the new president of the Iron Angels Motorcycle Club. The official swearing in was at the club house, but immediately afterwards, everyone moved over to the Iron Angels Bar for the celebration.

  Maddox and Aimee didn’t attend the ceremony at the clubhouse, but when the crowd and commotion arrived, they were in the corner booth in the back where they had been each afternoon and evening since they met. He was nursing a beer. She was sipping on a Jack and Coke. The sex the past week had been fantastic, but something was changing and both of them could sense it.

  As David, with Carol by his side, walked through the front doors, Maddox raised his glass in a mock toast and said softly, “Long live the King... and Queen.”

  Aimee pulled his hand back down to the table and asked quietly. “You thought it would be you, didn’t you? You wanted to be the new president? You wanted to be the one walking in with Carol Malone on your arm?” There was concern, or fear, or both in her voice.

  “I wanted a lot of things,” he replied.

  “Do you still think she might clean up loose ends?”

  “She has to, but I’m not much of a threat to her right now,” he answered, and then he gave a soft snort. “I’ve lost her. I’ve lost the respect of the men.” He smiled at Aimee. “I’ve spent the last week in bed with a woman who isn’t even a member of the club... a lawyer no less.”

  “How could I become a member?” she asked suddenly.

  “You mean you don’t remember?” he responded in surprise. Then in a softer tone he continued, “Oh, that’s right. You left as soon as y
ou finished high school and never came back. I guess you didn’t really see what was going on.”

  “I was a naive little girl then,” she said. She also gave a soft grunt through her nostrils. “I guess I was still naive all the way up until my boss–my former boss–threw me out of the building.” Her voice grew serious and she looked Maddox directly in the eyes. “But I stopped being naive when I came here and met you. How do I become a member of the Iron Angels?”

  “Well,” Maddox began, “female members are usually called ‘Mammas,’ and they aren’t really members. They are an extension of the club... not much more than communal property. To become a Mamma, you give yourself to the whole club. Often it’s done in some public or disgusting place.” He pointed toward the side room of the bar. “On that pool table over there... or maybe in the bathroom at the service station. Sometimes they do it on a picnic table in the park– the tourists like that.” He laughed slightly. “After that you’re a Member-Mamma and can wear the Iron Angels jacket and insignia.”

  His eyes grew cold and his voice matched. “If you wear it before that, it’s likely that you will experience the full routine plus a belt spanking while tied to the pillars on the front porch of this place. Then you would be left naked on the edge of town to make your way back to the city.”

  He laughed again, but it was not a warm laugh. “Actually, the Mammas usually go out and take care of the girl. They clean her up and get her some clothes. If she still really wants to be a Mamma, they bring her back to the clubhouse and tend to her cuts and bruises. If not, they take her into the city with a warning that if she ever tells anyone what happened, it will be repeated times ten and the Mammas will use whips, not belts.”

  He held up his beer as if offering a toast to his memories. “About half have joined. No one has ever gone to the police.”

  “But what if I don’t want to be communal property?”

  “That means the ‘Mamma Ride,’” he said. Again he laughed as he said it, but this time his laugh was a true laugh. “I can’t see you doing that either.”

  “What’s a Mamma Ride?” she asked. She looked like a curious teenager asking about some forbidden subject. Her voice and face had a combination of fear and hopeful expectation.

  “It’s pretty simple and not at all violent.” he answered. “The tourists think it’s staged, and to some extent, it is.”

  He took a long draw on his beer. “If a member has a particular girl that he wants to be his personal Mamma, he tells her to be at the clubhouse naked at noon. Usually she pops out of a car just before he comes into the parking lot. He stops and she jumps onto the bike with him.”

  Aimee looked somewhat confused. Maddox laughed at her expression and continued. “She’s facing him so it looks like she’s sitting on the gas tank. I think it’s pretty obvious what she’s actually sitting on. Her feet are either crossed behind his back or on the riders’ posts behind his. He rides out from the club, through town, all the way out to the clubhouse at Deadman’s Mine.”

  He took another sip of beer. “That’s a rather twisting and bumpy road, so it gets kind of interesting for her... and for him. When they get to the mine clubhouse, there will be two small flags hanging where she can reach them without getting off the bike. She grabs them and holds them up in her hands. The U.S. flag is in the right hand. The Iron Eagles flag is in the left. Then her Eagle makes the run back into town as fast as he can.”

  He looked her right in the eyes. “The tourists normally have gotten wind of what’s occurring by then so when they come back through town, flags flying, everything gets recorded on camera or video.” He laughed softly again. “When they get back to the clubhouse, she’s a Member-Momma, which is as close as a woman can get to being an actual member of the club.”

  “Don’t the police get involved?” she asked.

  He laughed loudly. “In Iron Creek? For something that attracts tourists?” After another sip of beer, he continued in a more natural voice, “Actually, there’s a quirk in Colorado laws about indecent exposure. Breasts don’t count. The genitals have to be showing. And as a couple of court cases have ruled, a woman sitting like that isn’t showing her genitals. The most they can do is cite the Eagle for distracted driving. It isn’t worth their effort unless you’re on major roads, and believe me, Deadman’s Road is not a major road.”

  “Let’s do it!” she said excitedly.

  “What?!” he replied. “You serious?”

  “Damn straight!” she answered forcefully. “It would make me a member and it might take some of the pressure off you.”

  “You sure you want to do this?”

  “Honesty, remember?” she replied. “I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.”

  “If you’re sure,” he answered. Then he yelled out loudly. “David! Mr. President! Mamma Ride, tomorrow at noon!”

  The entire bar erupted into cheering and yelling at the announcement. Maddox leaned in closer to Aimee so she could hear him over the chaos and said, “Let’s go back to the apartment and make love.”

  “I told you, love has nothing to do with it. It’s just sex. We fuck. We don’t make love.”

  He paused as if carefully weighing his words, then said quietly, “Whatever you say, but let’s go before David or Carol think of something.”

  ***

  When they got to his apartment, their actions were more subdued than that first night. Each undressed and completed their evening routines before coming to bed. Aimee was a two-minute tooth brusher and timed herself to make sure that she had properly cleaned her teeth. Then she used a flavored mouth wash before joining Maddox in the bed.

  Their lips met and she said, “You still taste like beer.”

  To which he replied, “And you taste like mint.” Then he kissed her deeply.

  There was at least one advantage to “honest sex.” Both of them knew what the other liked and disliked, and what the other wanted or would not allow. Aimee hated anal sex, but liked to have her ass played with and even a finger slid into her rosebud during foreplay. Maddox wanted to control the pace. She could coax him to speed up or slow down, but if she attempted to drive him higher by playing directly with his prick, it upset him.

  Maddox spent a great deal of time running his hands over Aimee’s back while she lay face down on the bed. Once she was breathing deeply and starting to undulate her body, he began slipping his hands between her ass cheeks, sliding his fingers over her nether opening and enticing moans of pleasure from her.

  Several times he wanted to say, “I love you,” but held back his words. This wasn’t love-making, this was sex.

  But the truth was, this was more than sex. He loved Aimee and had since she first turned her dark brown eyes on him back at the bar. He kissed her deeply and she readily let him roll her over onto her back. As he stroked her breasts, he began to say, “I love you,” but he caught himself.

  If he said it, did he not mean it? If he said it, would he lose her? If he didn’t say it, was he lying? If he lied, he would definitely lose her.

  She looked up at him, waiting for him to complete what he had started to say. “I think you have beautiful breasts,” he said sweetly.

  Aimee inhaled slowly and softly said, “Thank you.”

  As she did, she felt her heart sink slightly. Why did she feel disappointed? Did she want him to say, “I love you”? This isn’t about love. It’s about sex... only about sex. Isn’t it?

  That thought faded into the background as her body continued to respond to Maddox’s touch, but then an odd thought passed through her mind. She had experienced other partners. Maddox wasn’t the best. His touch was often too soft or too harsh, and yet her body responded as if each stroke were exactly perfect. Why was that? Why was her body... why was she attracted to Maddox as she had never been attracted to any other man?

  “I...” she began, but her climax caught up with her and instead she screamed out, “I... Aieeeee!”

  ***

  At three mi
nutes before noon, Aimee Wells stood next to her car in the Iron Eagles Clubhouse parking lot. She was wearing a short A-line dress... and nothing else. Before getting out of the car, she had slipped off her sandals and texted Maddox a single word: “Ready.” Now she was straining to hear the sound of his Harley coming through town.

  Finally she heard it and whipped the dress up over her head. As she walked to the center of the parking lot, she could see a carload of Japanese tourists, who had been trying to take pictures of the clubhouse, suddenly swing their cameras and cellphones over to her.

  “This is going to make it interesting to try to get another job,” she thought to herself. And then Maddox came roaring into the parking lot. As he swung around to pick her up, she could see that he had an erection sticking up from his jeans.