Chinese Takeout Ch. 03

Brick walls, a polished wood floor overlain by the sort of heavy duty rubber floor pads you saw in a gym, clean, brightly lit. Rows of heavy duty gym equipment at the far end, half of which was in use. Nearest us, a dozen heavily built guys with gloves, head protectors and padding were sparring. Kicks, punches, thuds, yells and screams. Sweat, testosterone and aggression permeated the air. A muscular guy about Keith's age in black track suit pants and a tight black t-shirt looked towards us, waved, looked away, called out. "Take over for me Airborne."

"You got it Quebec." A big shaggy-haired guy with a beard on the gym equipment jogged towards the group sparring. Airborne? Quebec? The guy in black moved towards us. Moved like a dancer, smooth, coordinated, fluid for all his size. He looked all muscle, not an ounce of fat on him.

"Yo, Round Out."

"Quebec." They hugged each other. Not just a hug. This was arms around each other, back slapping, haven't seen each other in a hundred years hugging. Not the sort of thing you usually saw guys doing. Nobody except me blinked. Nobody except me even looked. Okay, so Quebec was a who, not a place. That must be his, what had Keith called it, his "handle."

"Got a favor to ask, Quebec."

"You don't have to ask Round Out, just name it man, I can do it, it's yours."

"My Old Lady here, she got beat up at High School today, Rice Girl picked on her, smacked her around. Want you to train her, train her fast, train her to win, no rules. You cool with that?"

Quebec looked me up and down. It wasn't that sleazy undress you with his eyes look that so many guys do. It was more of an appraising "what's she got, can she take it" look that made me stiffen. He reached out, finger under my chin, tilted my face up, moved it from side to side. "Got a beautiful black eye there girl. Where else she hit you?"

That was easy. I could feel where that Chua bitch had hit me. Every damn blow. Eye. Cheeks. Top of my head. Breasts. Stomach. She'd tried to scratch me and pull my hair as well.

"She try and knee you, kick you?"

No, she hadn't.

"Show me how she hit you, slow motion."

I did my best to remember. He laughed. Looked at Keith. "Amateurs. I love 'em. Give me a month Round Out, she's gonna have to come in here pretty much every day after school though." He looked at me, his expression serious. "You want to do this girl, it's gonna be tough but you look like you can work up to it. Give me a month and you'll be able to put her down without blinking. Gonna be real hard work though. Whatddyasay? Want to do it?"

I didn't even look at Keith. I really wanted to be able to handle that Chua bitch. Give her back what she'd dished out to me. In spades. "Hey, I'm Chinese." I grinned for the first time since the morning. It hurt but it was worth it. "Since when did Chinese mind a bit of hard work?"

They both laughed. Keith squeezed my hand.

I basked in his approval before my face fell. "I can't get here after school on my own though."

Keith and Quebec looked at each other. "Shoulda thought of that." Keith's voice was as rueful as my expression.

"Which High School?"

"Saint Bernadette's Catholic Girl's High on Truman," I chipped in before Keith could answer

Quebec's face lit up. "Hey, Olaf?"

"Yo Quebec." He was a monster. Six foot six? Maybe a bit taller. Three hundred pounds of muscle if he was an ounce, a bald head and a scarred face that if I'd met when I was on my own I'd have crossed the street to avoid. At a run. Scary did not adequately describe Olaf. Terrifying approached adequate. Even with Keith beside me, I felt a little shiver of fear run up and down my spine. "Round Out." He nodded to Keith as he came closer. His eyes ran over me expressionlessly. How come Quebec was Quebec but Olaf was Olaf? Was that a name or a handle? And nope, I was so NOT going to ask. Ask Keith maybe, later.

"You still do that delivery run down Truman afternoons don't ya?"

"Yeah, do it on my way here matter of fact."

"Got a favor to ask for Round Out." Quebec nodded towards Keith.

"Ask it, you got it Round Out."

"Round Out's Old Lady here, she's gonna be training here every day Monday to Friday after High School gets out, starting tomorrow. Needs a pickup from her High School to get her here. Saint Bernadette's Girl's on Truman."

Olaf looked at me. Looked at Keith. I would've said his expression was amused except amusement and Olaf's face didn't really go together. Not at all. "Your Old Lady, brother?"

Keith nodded. "Yeah. Her name's Jay-Lin, she doesn't have a handle of her own. Yet."

"Pleased to meet you," I smiled. Sort of. Olaf was a hard guy to smile at. Really, I wanted to back up a few steps and hide behind Keith. I managed not to though. I wasn't sure if you shook hands or not, this didn't seem like a shake hands sort of place, so I didn't stick my hand out, I didn't do anything. If he stuck his hand out, I'd shake it. He didn't.

"Yeah." Olaf didn't smile. He looked at Keith. Then he grinned. Jesus, that grin was scary. "Handle? I'll give you her handle dude. Baby Blue." He laughed. He actually looked at me and he laughed. "She's just a baby, and her face, Jesus Round Out, she's black and blue, who smacked her round? Baby Blue suits her just fine right now, but I guess the other Old Ladies'll come up with their own handle for her." He looked at me. "How'd you get yourself whacked around, girl?"

I might as well admit it. It wasn't like my bruises were invisible. It wasn't like everyone wouldn't know. "There was this bitch at school who didn't like me being Round Out's girlfriend, she doesn't like bikers, she hangs out with a bunch of Rice Boys. So she beat me up on the school bus this morning."

Olaf shook his head. "Can't have that now, can we." His eyes were on Keith now, his expression serious. Scarily serious. Intense. "You sure about this dude, I mean, you know she's gonna get a hard time from the other Old Ladies, right? She's not the kind of girl the other Old Ladies'll take to easily. She's class man, real class. A lot of them bitches ain't, if you know what I mean."

Just like that, Olaf had made me feel good. I was class. I liked that. I liked Olaf. He was still scary, but now I wasn't quite so scared of him. Although it was still scary when he looked at me and added, "Scarier than some little Rice Girl bitch on the bus."

"Whatever Keith wants," I said, trying hard to feel brave and not really succeeding.

Keith squeezed my hand. "Yeah, I'm sure brother, she's the one."

Olaf just looked at him for a moment longer, then nodded. "On you, bro, but I got your back best as I can."

Keith looked back. "Appreciate that Olaf. Anything I can do, it's yours, you know that brother." They did that biker-hug thing that Keith had done with Quebec when we arrived.

"I'll meet you here and take you home after your workout Jay-Lin," Keith was smiling down at me.

I smiled back. "If you're okay, that works for me. But I don't want to be any trouble." Keith just grinned at me. That look was all the answer I needed. That look and that grin told me that he wanted to take care of me. That was all the reassurance I needed. I looked to Quebec. "Do I need to bring anything?" I wasn't sure what I should call him. Sir just didn't seem right. "And uh, excuse me, but what should I call you?"

They all laughed. I didn't get the joke but at least they thought I was funny. "You can just call me Quebec, girl, that's my handle. And Olaf here, his handle is Olaf." He grinned at Olaf. Olaf grinned right back. Shit, that grin was scary. Really. "Bring a track suit, tight t-shirt, wear a sports bra, running shoes and a sweat band, something to tie your hair back with. You can change in my office when you get here. No changing room or showers for girl's here so Round Out's gonna have to take you home all sweaty."

They all laughed again. Keith gave my hand another squeeze. "Okay, thanks guys, this is really above and beyond. I owe both of you."

Quebec and Olaf both grinned. Quebec turned away from us.

"Listen up." His voice carried through the gym. Silence fell. Everyone stopped what they were doing, turned to look at him. He reached back, took my arm as Keith let go my hand, pulled me forward to stand next to him.

"This here is Round Out's Old Lady." His voice had a different timbre. No longer friendly, no longer jovial. Now it was commanding. Like Ms. Schwartzkopf's voice, this was a "do what I tell you or you'll die painfully" voice. Except with Quebec, it really was. It wasn't an act. "She's gonna be training here every afternoon starting tomorrow, some Rice Girl beat her up coz she's Round Out's Old Lady and we're not taking that shit. No-one beats up an SBC brother's Old Lady and gets away with it. Nobody this side of Hell anyways. So she's getting the special training. You guys, you see she needs a hand, needs advice, you give it to her, okay. And be fucking nice about it."

His voice relaxed, went humorous, you could almost hear the laughter. "You can call her Baby Blue for now, no need to ask why." I blushed as they all looked at me and laughed. When I blushed, they laughed even harder. "Now get back to fucking training you lazy bastards."

A chorus of laughter and "Yo's" echoed around the gym while I stood there burning a fiery red. Quebec turned back towards Keith.

Olaf nodded to Round Out. "What time she needs picking up?"

"Three fifteen." Keith looked at me. I nodded.

"'Kay. I'll be driving a white delivery van." He looked at me. Laughed. "You'll recognize me won't you?"

I had to giggle. "Yeah, I don't think I'll mistake you for one of my friend's Mom's."

Not that I had any friends. Not now.

They all laughed. Even Olaf. He turned and headed back onto the mats.

"Okay, better get you home girl." Keith's hand slapped my butt lightly. Instantly, I wanted him. Wanted him the same way I'd wanted him last night. I looked up at him, almost panting. I didn't care that my lips were bruised, my face hurt. I wanted to feel his lips and his hands on my body. I wanted to expose my body to him. I wanted to excite him and tempt him and offer myself to him. Just because he slapped my butt? Jay-Lin! Time for a cold shower.

But I didn't want a cold shower. I wanted Keith. Oh god, I was panting. Really I was. How embarrassing.

Quebec chuckled. "Think you better." They grinned at each other.

"Really appreciate this Quebec," Keith said. "See you tomorrow."

He took my hand, leading me out of the gym, out into that stinking street, back to the pickup. Charlie was still sitting there, watching as I climbed into the passenger's seat. When he saw me looking at him, he nodded. I opened the window. "Hey, Charlie?"

"Yeah?"

"You like coffee?"

"Cream and lotsa sugar."

"Bring you one tomorrow afternoon if you're here."

"I'm always here lady." He grinned. God, half his teeth were missing. "This is my spot."

He was still watching as we drove away.

* * * * * * * *

"Who's Quebec anyhow?" I was curious. "Why's he called Quebec?"

Keith glanced at me, grinned as we bounced through a huge pothole, my hand clutching wildly at the grab handle. "Quebec? That's his handle, his biker name. He used to be in the Army, Special Forces, he was an instructor on the Special Forces qualifying course for the last couple of years before he got out. Got out six months ago and started up his gym here as a matter of fact, a few of us chipped in to help him get started. Anyhow, the course he ran, they call that the "Q Course". So in army speak, Q is Quebec. You know, like Alpha, Bravo, Charlie, Delta, it's Q for Quebec. So his handle's Quebec."

"Oh." Okay, I could understand that. "He's in your club?"

"Prospect."

I looked puzzled. There was that grin again. That grin just made me all shivery. "Prospect? A prospect, that's a guy who wants to join the Club. He's on probation, has to show he's got what it takes to wear a full patch. It can take a while, six months, a year, two years, whatever it takes to show the guy really wants to be a brother. But Quebec, he's on the fast track. He's got it."

"What about that other guy, who was it, Airborne? That's a handle too?"

Keith laughed. "Yeah, everyone gets their handle for a reason. How Airborne got his makes a good drinking story. You can ask him when you talk to him outside the gym, he loves telling anyone new that one. Heard it a hundred times, I'm not going to spoil his fun."

"How come Olaf is just Olaf then. He doesn't have a handle?"

"You saw him. If you looked like that, think you'd need a handle?"

I giggled. Olaf? Olaf was the scariest guy I'd ever seen. He made those bad guys in the movies look like a bunch of kittens. Really, he did. "No."

"There you are then. Olaf's handle is Olaf. Good brother, got a real rep. Him and me, we knew each other back in the Army. Knew Quebec too. Olaf and I got patched into the SBC the same time. He's a real brother that guy, give you the food of his plate if you were hungry and wouldn't even ask why. Got a bit of a rep of course, but then so do half the guys in the club."

Did Keith have a rep? I wasn't sure I wanted to know. I knew I didn't want to know Olaf's rep so it seemed sensible to just not ask. It wasn't like I needed to know and he was doing me a real favor. I was going to buy him coffee at least. The pickup swerved a little, we hit another pothole. I bounced on the seat, my skirt flipping up. I clutched at the grab handle, caught Keith looking at me. Looking at my legs. Oh?

"You hit that pothole on purpose!" My accusation came out as a giggle. He grinned. God, that grin. It just made me feel all warm and fuzzy. Warm and fuzzy and shivery and wanting Keith to hold me tight. Wanting him to see my panties. To see me.

"Oh yeah, god yes, I do! Do you have any idea what it does to me when you flash your panties?" He sounded so enthusiastic that I had to giggle again. I looked. Oh yeah, I could see what it did to him. I had to giggle again.

"So? I can see you like looking at my panties? That gets you excited?" Oh god, I just wanted to melt when I talked about my panties to him. I could feel myself melting inside. He hadn't even touched me and I was wet. I wanted him to touch me. I wanted to touch him.

"Oh yeah. God yes!" He made panting noises. "But only with you in them."

I giggled hysterically. With the hand that wasn't clutching the grab handle, I reached down and flipped my skirt up, flashing my panties at him. "Like that?" I wasn't giggling anymore. I was serious, my cheeks pink. I looked at him, driving. "Is that distracting you while you drive?" Oh god, I was so excited. Just like when he slapped my butt in the gym. More excited if that was possible. There were just the two of us after all. No spectators.

"Oh yes." He laughed. "But I love it. Distract me some more."

I did. He looked. I held my skirt up and wriggled on the seat. "My parents aren't back until later."

"Yeah." He sounded bored. Huh? Then he grinned. Okay, I got it. He was teasing me. I liked that. I liked him teasing me. I liked how that made me feel. Hot!

"When we get back to my place, would you like to come inside?" I was so wet and hot. I wanted to squeeze my legs together and pant and moan. I wanted to spread my legs wide and feel his hand inside my panties. I wanted him to touch me like he had yesterday. To kiss me like he had yesterday. And not on my lips. Not the ones that were sore, anyway. I had to wriggle. I just had too. The anticipation was just too intense, too much.

"Yeah."

"What are we going to do?" Now I was teasing him. I giggled at his expression. Oh yeah, Keith wanted me. Knowing that, I wanted to just lie back and let him do whatever he wanted to me. Oh god yes.

"I think I'm going to spank you for being naughty Jay-Lin."

"If you want to..." I almost moaned out loud at the thought. Yes. Yes. Spank me please. He glanced at me, grinned, one of his hands leaving the wheel to rest on my thigh. I placed my hand on his, moving his hand higher on me, under my skirt, all the way up so that his fingers brushed my panties.

"Ohhhhhh." I couldn't help it. When his fingers brushed me there, I shivered and I moaned, my hips jerking on the seat. I let go of the grab handle and clutched at his hand with both of mine, pushing it against me and moaning softly at the same time. So good. His hand felt so good and I was so wet and I wanted his hand. Not just touching me the way he was. I wanted his hand inside my panties. "Ohhhh Keith... Keith."

I remembered what we'd done yesterday. How he'd licked me there so eagerly, so greedily. How he'd licked my finger. How his finger had been inside me. I smiled at him. He caught that smile, his returning look was wicked. "You're a bad bad girl," he growled.

"I'm as bad as you want me to be," I gasped. "Do you want me to be bad for you?" I held his hand against me, feeling his fingers pressing against me where I was wet and giving. Oh yes, I'd be bad for Keith. I'd be as bad as he wanted me to be.

"Yeah babe, I want you to be so bad for me." The look in his eyes. Oh god, the promise there. The anticipation I felt. What did he want me to do? I wanted to moan and scream and hold him and bite him and have him do everything he wanted to do to me. But all I could do was sit there holding his hand tight against me while I looked at him with helpless longing.

"Keith?" I could barely gasp. Talking? I'd forgotten how to.

"Yeah."

"I've never made out in a truck with anyone in my life." Okay, I lied, I could talk when I needed to. And okay, I'd never made out with anyone, anywhere. There was a first time for everything.

"I think you better come here." We looked at each other as he pulled over to the side of the street and stopped the truck. For a moment, I couldn't move. I was jelly. He could do that to me with a look. He didn't even have to touch me. Although he was.

"Okay." My voice quavered but I came. Unbuckling my seatbelt, I slid towards him as he slid sideways into the middle. I twisted, turned to face him, knelt astride him, sitting on him, my head almost brushing the roof, my hands on his shoulders, looking into his eyes as his hands slid under my skirt to cup and hold my butt. His hands were so large and strong, his splayed fingers held me easily, his thumbs on my hips, his fingers cupping each butt cheek. I wished I wasn't wearing panties. I should have taken them off.

"Take your bra off." That was all he said. His voice was a little hoarse. Was he as excited as I was? I had no idea, but my hands were already tugging my shirt out from my skirt, sliding up the back, unhooking my bra. Reaching inside one sleeve, pull the straps down and off, then do the same on the other side, releasing my bra completely and then pulling it out from underneath and dropping it on the seat.

I waited. My nipples were so hard. So hard and swollen and aching. Pushing my shirt out. I wanted him to touch them. To kiss them. To do everything to them. To me. He looked into my eyes. We looked into each others eyes and I knew. I knew just from the way he looked at me, the way his hands held me.

"Keith," I said, and I was no longer nervous or scared. I was happy. So happy.

"Yes." He was smiling.

"I love you." That smile. That look.

"I love you Jay-Lin." He sounded shy. "More than anything in the world."

"In the universe." I was being silly, but I did. He was everything. Everything that I wanted.

"In the universe." He smiled. He was humoring me. But also, on a deeper level, it was like I could read his soul, his mind. I could almost feel him reading mine. In that moment. I'd never felt closer to anyone in my life and I knew, I just knew, knew that we were meant for each other. Forever. Sometimes, even if you're only eighteen and you have absolutely no experience of life, you just know something is meant to be. I knew. I knew Keith was meant for me just as I knew I was meant for him. Nothing would change that. Nothing!