Aztec Treasure

Maria Meztli’s POV

Hermantown, Minnesota

“Relax, we’ll be there in a few minutes,” Lance said as I fidgeted behind him on his Harley. His bright red Road King was rumbling under me as I shifted on the seat. It wasn’t all nervousness; being so close to Lance and breathing in his scent had me horny, and a Harley is the word’s most expensive vibrator when you lean forward enough. I’d orgasmed once on the drive down despite the lingering soreness, and I was close to another. The acceleration from this stoplight might do it.

“I know, I’m just excited to be riding again. I really, REALLY missed this.” I hadn’t gone this long without being on a Harley since I was five years old. All that time holed up at the cabin or driving a minivan, was torture. I was thankful the nannies at Arrowhead were happy to watch Maritza so often, and she loved being with the other children in their care.

The light changed, Lance gunned the engine, and I got the release I craved. I would have to change my underwear, maybe even my jeans, by the time we got to the dealership. Luckily, I had both in the backpack I wore. Planning is the key, right? I just hoped Roadkill, Possum, and Monica didn’t notice how I was shifting my hips to get off. THAT would be embarrassing.

We came to a stop at the next red light. “Monica is going to smell it as soon as you get off the bike, but the old people won’t pick up on it unless you’ve soaked through,” Lance said.

“What?”

“How many times have you cum on the ride down? I can smell it over the exhaust.” Oh, God, I was surrounded by wolves with zero boundaries.

“Twice,” I confessed. “Not a word.”

Finally, we arrived at the Harley-Davidson Sports Center. I made an excuse that I needed to use the restroom, putting up with the amused smile from Monica as she volunteered to go along. She started laughing as soon as the Ladies’ Room door was closed. “You’ve got it bad, don’t you, girl,” she said as I went into a stall. “I can’t blame you. Lance is all kinds of yummy.”

My cat didn’t like how she talked about him and let out a subsonic growl. “He’s with ME,” I said as I stripped off my jeans before using the toilet.

“I knew it! There’s a pool going on for when you two realize you are mates,” she teased. “I’ve got sixteen days from now, so you need to cool it a bit to give me a chance.”

“My kind doesn’t have mates. We have arranged marriages,” I said. “Or we did. I guess since I’m the only adult left, I can do what I want.”

“Lance is a good wolf, and I’ve seen how he looks at you.”

“We’re just friends with benefits. He’s got a mate out there, and I can’t be that woman who takes that away from him.” I pulled on my new clothing and stuffed the soaked stuff in my backpack.

“There’s no wolf of age out there for him, or he’d already be mated. I suppose he might be waiting for a female who hasn’t shifted yet, but I think it’s you. He just has to figure it out.”

I came out and washed my hands. “I guess we’ll find out someday, but right now? I want to buy a new ride.”

We came back out to find Roadkill talking with the guy at the desk, while Lance had a salesman ready to pounce. “I understand you’re looking for a new Harley,” he said with a smile. “Are you an experienced rider?”

“Yes,” I said. “I plan to do a lot of cruising, so I need a bike with power that is short enough for my legs and light enough for me to handle. I need storage too.” I knew what I wanted, but I was testing the salesman. Many salespeople would assume Lance was the bike guy and I was his ditzy girlfriend. His reaction to me would tell.

“For a rider your size with experience, we have a few options with low seats that can work. Most of them do not have hard saddlebags, though.”

“I prefer hard bags for security and protection,” I said.

“That narrows it down. I have two in stock that could meet your needs.” He led me to a Street Glide. “This is the biggest cruiser I’d recommend for a woman your size. The seat height is good for you, just over twenty-six inches, but the weight is at the high end at eight hundred and thirty pounds. It’s got plenty of power and storage and is very comfortable on long rides.” I got on, making sure I could comfortably get both feet down flat while sitting. He held the bike upright while I checked the seating position. I didn’t like the short windshield that ended in my line of sight. It was workable, but I was worried about the weight as I got off.

“The other option in stock is this one.” He led us to a gloss-white cruiser with a batwing fairing, full-height windshield, and lots of chrome. “This is a Sport Glide. It’s got one of the lower seat heights at under twenty-six inches, and it’s a hundred and thirty pounds lighter than the Street Glide. Anything smaller and lighter than this wouldn’t be in the cruiser class and wouldn’t have the power or storage.” I straddled this one, noticing the weight difference. I wouldn’t have picked a white bike, but Rori said it was the best base for one of her custom paint jobs. She promised to get to it next winter when she wasn’t in wolf form. I’d seen her work, and it was worth waiting on. “Same 107 engine, and already set up for North Shore riding.”

“Do you have one I can test ride?”

“I have a demo model, but it has a bullet fairing and no windshield.”

“I’ll survive.” I had to leave a credit card, and they made a copy of my license to do the test drive. Lance would ride with me, and the others slipped out to get into the Pack van. Thirty minutes later, I was convinced. “How soon can you have that one ready to go?”

“Our mechanic will have it ready by the time you sign the paperwork,” he said. “We can register it in Minnesota, but you need to get a Minnesota license within 30 days of moving here.”

“We’ll stop by the license bureau,” Lance promised. It was another thing to do now that I’d moved here. We filled out the paperwork using the address of the Pack House, and then I did some shopping for custom Harley leather. I used the discount they offered to buy a pair of boots, a set of chaps, a new helmet, and a reinforced Harley motorcycle jacket. Minnesota didn’t require helmets, but I’d been to too many biker funerals to go without.

Lance was waiting for me as I pulled around from the back, and we quickly synced our Bluetooth systems so we could talk. “I love your bike, but I wish you had to wait a few weeks for it to show up,” he said. “I liked having you back there.”

“Only the lead dog on the sled team gets fresh air and a good view,” I answered. “You have no idea how good this feels to be on my ride again.” He pulled out, and I followed with the van behind us as we headed to the mall to look for clothes. “You’re lucky,” I told Lance ninety minutes later as he carried a half-dozen shopping bags out to the van, with Roadkill carrying the rest. “I’m not one of those shop-till-you-drop girls. I’m more like ‘get in, get out, and nobody gets hurt.’”

“Yeah, well, we’re hungry,” Lance said. “Possum wants to go to Grandma’s in the Harbor. We’ll be following them.”

The drive down the hills and through the city to Canal Park was pretty cool. Duluth was a medium-sized city on the west end of Lake Superior, with steep hills from the top to the water. I didn’t see anything the first time through, stuck in the back of the van as I snuck into Arrowhead. “Canal Park has lots of shops and restaurants, plus the Lake Superior Marine Museum,” Lance said through our helmet link.

“It’s freezing,” I said as we got closer.

“Yeah, if you don’t like the weather in Duluth, wait a few minutes. The Lake is probably thirty-six degrees right now. One wind shift can drop the temperature forty degrees. It’s why I had you dress so warm.” I was glad I had my new leathers on over my flannel and hoodie.

We pulled into the lot at Grandma’s, a famous saloon a block from the canal, which hosted the namesake marathon race each year through Duluth. “Monica will get our name on the list. Come on; you need to see this.” He walked me through the paths to the canal, past the tugboat and the museum, until we joined the crowd on the west pier. “Check that out.” A mile or two out, a big ship was heading our way. “Both oceangoing vessels called ‘Salties’ and Great Lakes-only ships called ‘Lakers’ come through here into Duluth harbor. Ore, cement, grain, it all goes in and out through this canal.”

I looked at the imposing ship, then at the narrow canal. “This thing is what, seventy-five yards wide?”

“Seventy-five meters wide and five hundred and twenty meters long,” Lance replied. “The ship coming in is the James R. Barker, over three hundred meters long and thirty-three meters wide. Not a lot of room for error.”

“No shit.” I looked up at him. “Now, are you some kind of savant, or did you have help?”

“Busted. Monica linked me with the information.” He pulled me into his chest and wrapped his arms around me, keeping the breeze off as we watched the ship enter the harbor. I’d never been so close to a big vessel; Denver wasn’t exactly a port city.

We got back to Grandma’s in time to get our table, and we pigged out. Wings, a large tray of famous onion rings, and a cheesesteak made Grandma’s style. I finished it off with a turtle brownie sundae, finally leaning back and rubbing my food belly. “That was good,” I said.

Possum laughed, having watched me vacuum up twice as much food as she ate. “Are we going to have to load you and the bike in the van so you can sleep it off?”

My eyes got wide. “Nope. I’ll be fine.” I bought two sweatshirts, one for Maritza to grow into, on the way out. “Time for electronics!”

By the time we finished shopping, my debit card had scorch marks on it. It took three trips to get everything up to my room at Vic’s house, but Maritza and I had clothes for a while. I flopped down on the bed with Lance after we finished de-tagging. “I’ve got so much laundry to do,” I said.

“Yep.” He reached out his hand for mine, and our fingers slid together. “I hate shopping, but I had fun today.”

“I did too. When can we ride again?”

“Next weekend is a border run. We usually get a few dozen for those.”

That didn’t sound good. “Taco Bell? Yuck.”

He laughed. “No, to the Canadian Border. It’s about three hours riding each way, and there are waterfalls and cool things to see along the way. With stops and meals, it’s an all-day run. It’s cold, but the summer traffic isn’t here yet.”

I hadn’t ridden in formation since last fall. “I’m in. Help me with laundry?”

“I’d love to.” I stood up, and he peeled off my clothes and tossed them on the pile. We fell back onto the bed and started to kiss. An hour later, the first load was in.

The laundry waited until the morning.