by Ruby Dixon
“Goddamn it,” Epic breathes. “You’re going to make me come.” He grabs a handful of my hair and drags me against him, his mouth claiming mine. His lips taste musky, and I realize it’s me that I’m tasting.
“That’s the idea,” Locke says. “Finish him off, Becka.” And then his hand leaves mine, and I’m the only one touching Epic’s cock, the only one stroking him.
Locke’s hand? It goes to my ass and caresses it, lightly tracing down the seam of my bottom and sending shivery sensations through me even as Epic’s kisses distract me from my task.
But then a moment later, Epic’s hips push his cock into the circle of my grip, and I realize I’m distracted by Locke’s roaming hands and Epic’s mouth, and I’m supposed to be doing my share. So I stroke my hand slowly up and down Epic’s shaft, holding him tightly like Locke showed me, and using my wrist to give a little jerking motion when I make it to the head of his cock.
Then Epic breaks the kiss. His breath hisses out from between his teeth, and his entire body tenses. Something warm and wet splatters my fingers, and I gasp, because I realize what that is—he’s come, and he’s come all over my hand.
In the next moment, Locke’s fingers glide between my legs and dip into my wet heat. He leans in and kisses my neck. “Keep stroking him, Becka.”
A little moan escapes me, and I drag my hand up and down Epic’s length again, now slick with his spend. Epic’s hands tighten on me, but they don’t hurt, and the way his body gives a little tremor makes me wonder if he’s still coming. I continue working his cock, though my focus is on Locke and the hand that’s exploring between my legs. His fingers feel huge as they press against my core, teasing the wetness there before gliding away. His mouth is on my shoulder, gently kissing my skin, and I lean into him, wanting more of his warmth and strength.
Then Epic starts to kiss me again, and I’ve got two mouths on me. Locke’s hand strokes between my legs again, and I feel his fingers dip into my core again, pushing deep. My whimper is swallowed by Epic’s mouth and the hand he puts on my breast, caressing it. I feel like I’m tangled in a sandwich of limbs and near-overwhelmed by the sensations moving through me. Locke’s finger strokes into me, and he begins to pump it in a way that makes me feel needy and hollow all at once. His other hand goes to my breast, and then I’ve got a hand on each one, and my hips bear down on Locke’s hand between my legs, and Epic’s mouth is claiming mine with deep, wet kisses and—
And I come. I didn’t realize I was so close until it explodes through me and my entire body clenches. Epic plays with my nipple, and he murmurs something to me between kisses, but I can’t make it out because the blood’s rushing through my ears and Locke’s chin is rasping against my throat and his fingers are so deep inside me and there’s no room in my brain for processing words.
Slowly, the intense orgasm ebbs away, and Locke’s hand leaves its place between my thighs. Epic cradles my exhausted body against his, letting me catch my breath. “You good, Becks?”
I nod. I feel wrung out. That was…wow. We both came and it was amazing and ten times more intense than I ever imagined.
But…Locke hasn’t come. He’s rubbing my back, and his shoulder’s touching Epic’s. We’re all sandwiched so close together on the floor that I imagine our bodies as a triangle, all sides touching.
I think Epic comes to the same conclusion I do a moment later—Locke deserves an orgasm, too. We’re not done until we’re all done. Epic takes my hand from his cock, still wet with his release, and places it on Locke’s cock. His hand covers mine, and then our cum-sticky fingers are jerking Locke off, together.
“Kiss him, Becka,” Epic tells me.
I tilt my face up, and Locke’s mouth captures mine—and again, I’m reminded of how different his kisses are from Epic’s—gentler, but more intense. More tongue. I moan, getting turned on all over again as Epic helps me bring him to the brink. We’re still kissing in that languid, delicious fashion when he comes a few moments later, spattering my bare belly with his release.
I nip at his lower lip, fascinated by the tension I see in his hard face as he comes. He’s not full of groans and ‘goddamns’ like Epic is—he’s silent, his nostrils flaring, but the way his lips are parted tells me everything. “Maybe you should kiss him again, Epic—”
The phone rings, interrupting our play.
“Goddamn it,” Epic swears, leaping to his feet. “Motherfucking Hashtag and his motherfucking timing!”
“W-what?” I blink, the spell between us broken.
Locke gives me a polite kiss and helps me to my feet. “Let’s clean up while he takes this call, all right?”
I try not to pay too much attention as Epic talks on the phone in the other room. If they don’t want me to know what’s going on, I shouldn’t care. I should focus on the fact that Locke’s giving me sweet, tender little nips on my mouth as he washes my hands and then between my legs. But I suspect it’s a distraction, and Locke is doing his best to keep me occupied while Epic takes care of things on the phone.
Locke kisses me again, and I’m momentarily distracted by the play of his mouth on mine, because lordy, he is good at that. “How are you feeling?” he asks, stroking a hand down my back.
“About what?” His lower lip is shiny from my kiss, and utterly fascinating.
He chuckles. “About us. What we just did. Not overwhelmed, are you?”
“Oh, no. Of course not.” I’ve been around the two of them constantly for the last month, and the sexual tension simmering between us feels like it’s finally getting somewhere. ‘Overwhelmed’ is the last thing I’m feeling at the moment. In fact, it feels like we’re turning a new page, moving forward. I’m so glad because what we just shared? It’s something I want to explore over and over again. Truth is, I’m lusting after both men. I can’t pull apart my feelings for one because they’re inexplicably entwined with the other. Locke’s bossiness doesn’t bother me because I know it’s protectiveness, too. Just like Epic’s headstrong personality is always cranked up to eleven because he’s trying to get Locke out of his comfort zone. They balance each other, and they balance me.
Is this how it is for my brother and his partners, Kitty and Domino? I’ve only met Domino a few times and he seemed a little smirky and strange, and I’ve only met Kitty once and found her giggly and overly flirty with both men. But maybe they’re the perfect fit for someone like my brother, who gets in his own head and doesn’t laugh much.
I’m starting to grasp why the Butchers are the way they are. Maybe it’s not so weird to have men pairing up, both in and out of bed. Maybe we’re just all filling in the missing pieces for each other. It’s a fascinating thought.
“I’m glad,” Locke tells me. “I know this all has to be new to you.”
New doesn’t mean bad, though. Before I can point this out, the bathroom door opens a crack. Epic looks in at us, his expression sober.
“What is it?” Locke says, tension immediately returning to his shoulders. I can practically see the muscles knotting.
“That was Gem.” Epic’s normally cheery, eager expression is grim. “King City’s all clear.”
“King City?” I ask, unfamiliar with the term.
“Albuquerque. We’re good to take you home.”
Oh.
No one moves for a long moment, and then Locke puts his hands on my waist and helps me down from my seat on the counter. “Pack your bags, Becka.”
“We’re leaving now?” I protest. We didn’t even get to, well, the good stuff. Not that the other stuff was bad, but…I’m still a virgin.
“Yep, while things are quiet. We have Butchers staked out all over town, and the last of the Hard Nine rolled out about a week ago. It’s been silent, so Gem feels it’s safe.” He shrugs. “About as safe as ever, anyhow.” He looks at me. “We’ll get you home back to your family, Becka.”
“What about us?” I hate that I have to ask it aloud, because the moment I do, it feels needy.
Epic
looks at Locke, a question in his eyes.
Locke just shakes his head slowly. “There can’t be an ‘us’.”
It feels like I’ve been struck. “What do you mean?”
He shrugs. “All this playing around is just fun. It doesn’t mean anything.”
It hurts to hear him say that. Not mean anything? The last few weeks we’ve spent together mean nothing to him? After all this, after all we’ve shared…I’m just a job?
I think of his reluctance and feel a little horrified. Has Locke ever wanted any of this? Because we’re not a team after all, it seems. It’s all in my head.
“Besides, you’re going back to college soon, right, Becka? Last thing you need is a pair of shitty, uneducated bikers bringing you down.”
“Right,” I say flatly. Heaven forbid I come first in anyone’s eyes—not Penny, not Jim, not even the two guys I’m falling for—everyone’s just so ready to get rid of me at a moment’s notice.
To them, how I feel doesn’t matter.
It’s still all about the Butchers. Still about the club, just like for the rest of my family. I never come first, ever.
Someday it’s going to stop hurting when I hear that.
Not today, though.
LOCKE
Becka is normally as bubbly and playful as Epic, but on the ride back to Albuquerque, she’s utterly silent. She didn’t say a thing when we checked out of our ‘honeymoon’ cabin, except to thank the elderly couple running the place when they gave us a plate of cookies for the trip home. She doesn’t say a thing when I decide we should pull over at a rest stop and wait for her to henna her hair. I want to give her a disguise, just in case someone’s still looking for a petite brunette. She returns to the car a short time later, her hair flaming red and her mouth still pressed in that firm, unhappy line.
I’m not happy either, but it’s what has to be done.
I know I’m being an asshole. I know Becka’s feelings are hurt and she’s probably feeling used. Things went too far back in the cabin, though. I shouldn’t have let shit get away from me like that. I shouldn’t have fallen for their goading, and told them both to put their clothes on. Instead, I jumped in and became part of the problem, putting my hands all over both of them.
At least she’s still a virgin. I can look her brother and sister in the eyes when we get back. Came close to fucking it all up, though. Really damn close. Because the moment that phone rang, I wanted to toss it through the window. I wanted to climb back into that bed and explore both Becka and Epic and forget about the world.
But that’s not who I am. I’m patched into the Butchers, and they’re my brothers. They’ve had my back through thick and thin, and most recently when my old ride partner turned traitor. No one doubted me. Because of their loyalty, they’ll have mine forever, too. I’ll be a Butcher until I die. But Becka’s young and has a bright, normal future ahead of her, one that probably doesn’t involve a pair of bikers. Epic knows I’m right. That’s why he’s not complaining, even though he’s unhappy. He watches Becka in the rearview mirror as he drives, a look of grim resolve on his face. It’s good that we’re going back, I tell myself. I miss riding on my bike. I miss training at the Meat Locker. I miss going on rides with my brothers. We need to get back into the action. Pick up our lives again.
Albuquerque seems quiet as we drive through the suburbs, heading into the heart of the city. As flat and dusty and ugly as ever, but still somehow home. Better than the green trees and deer in Arkansas, in my eyes, because I see a bike ahead of us in the fast lane and recognize the colors and the rider.
Handlebar. By himself. Fuck, that hurts. I ignore the ache in my chest at the sight. Crash is dead. Whatever pain I’m feeling, Handlebar has to be feeling it ten times worse. I’ve been there. I know what it’s like to ride and not see anyone beside you. I know how damning and lonely that feels.
Maybe that’s why I’m so protective of Epic now. He’s a good guy, but he’s also freshly patched and doesn’t have the street smarts that a lot of us old-timers do. I need to be the cooler head…
Even if it makes me the bad guy.
We pull into the parking lot of a supercenter. They’re useful at times, because this is a simple exchange of passengers and there’re security cameras everywhere. Even the shadiest of gangs avoid doing business in these types of places for that very reason. It makes it the perfect spot to drop Becka off, since we agreed that it’d be a bad call to take her direct to the Butcher headquarters at the Meat Locker. I see Handlebar drive through the parking lot, circle around, and then head back out. He’s not stopping, just checking the area to ensure that it’s safe. There’s a red hatchback parked underneath a tree, a familiar woman leaning against it. Lucky. I’m willing to bet Solo is somewhere nearby, watching over her.
Epic pulls our rental into a space a short distance away. We get out of the car, our guns hidden but at hand. Just because things look safe doesn’t always mean it’s all clear. Becka holds the bag of her stuff to her chest, and her expression looks bravely defiant…but there are tears in her eyes.
And that breaks me inside.
I want to tell her that I changed my mind—that Epic and I, we’re claiming her as our property. That no man will ever look at her again because she’ll be wearing our patch and we’ll both love her and take care of her and cherish her every fucking day for the rest of our lives. I know Epic would be on board—the wounded look in his eyes says everything right now.
But Becka’s got a full ride to college and a promising career ahead of her. Epic and I can’t promise her more than lots of sex, a lot of bike rides, and a life flirting at the fringes of crime. I can’t see her cooking meth or getting in deep. That’s just not Becka. She’s pure and good and sweet, even if she tries her hardest to be a little naughty. She’s too good for us.
The three of us look over at Lucky, waiting impatiently about a hundred feet away. No one moves toward her, not yet. I suspect we’re all waiting for each other to start the goodbyes. I turn to Becka, and the words die in my throat at the hurt look in her eyes.
“So what now?” she asks.
“Now you go to your sister,” I say, voice gruff around the knot choking me. “Show her you’re in one piece.”
“And that’s it?” She blinks rapidly. “Will I ever see you guys again?”
“Dunno about that.” Her hair’s so red in the sunlight. Looks like blood. Kinda appropriate—I feel like my heart’s being ripped out of my chest. “We mostly roll with the club.”
“And I imagine classes start pretty soon,” Epic says lamely. “You gotta study and shit. Do good and keep up that scholarship. Show everyone how smart you are.”
She’s still blinking a mile a minute, and her lip trembles. “You guys are assholes. I can’t believe that’s all you have to say to me.” Her voice breaks. “I would have given you two everything.”
“That’s why we can’t take it, Becka,” I tell her gently. “Save it for someone who is worthy of you.”
The tears that have been threatening spill over her cheeks, and I pull her in for a hug. I hold her close, stroking her hair, and then reluctantly pry myself away so Epic can squeeze her tight in a bear hug of his own. And then she’s letting go and walking toward her sister, her shoulders straight and head high. She doesn’t look back at us. Doesn’t hesitate to jump into Lucky’s arms and hold on to her.
Meanwhile, feels like the light’s going out in my world. Epic claps a hand on my shoulder and squeezes it, and I know he feels the same.
10
BECKA
Penny can’t stop hugging me.
I’ve been back at her place for hours already, and she still won’t let go of me. It’s kind of nice to be so fussed over by my independent sister. Jim showed up for a while and hugged on me, too, but he had to run off again for more club business. It seems that the Bedlam Butchers are working double time to make sure their territory is protected with all the new goings-on, but it’s all right. I don’t think I co
uld deal with both of my siblings smothering me with attention.
Right now, I’m huddled on the couch with Penny, her arms around me as we watch mindless stuff on Netflix. She strokes my hair every now and then, and it makes me sad, thinking of the parents that are no more than distant memories. Penny and Jim didn’t know what to do with me after Mom and Dad died, and so they sent me away to boarding school while they ‘worked things out’ here in Albuquerque. Jim never brought me home to stay because he’s running a crime syndicate, and Penny’s one of his partners, the club’s treasurer. A few years ago, it really bothered me.
Now? Well, I guess now I see it through different eyes. The sister I had such disdain for for so many years is hugging me close like a mother that lost her child, and I greedily soak up the attention. I need this, I realize. I need to feel loved, especially after the sting of Epic and Locke’s rejection.
To think they could just turn their backs on everything we’d been exploring up to that point? It hurts. I didn’t realize how much until I got out of the car and realized it was goodbye.
Penny just thinks I’m a weepy mess because I’m home now. That I’ve been scarred over my kidnapping and that’s why I’m so emotional. Truth is, that memory feels like a bad tooth—sometimes it flares up, but most times it’s just a dull ache unless I prod at it. It’s something I’ll get over in time, but right now, I’m freshly gutted by the loss of Epic and Locke.
Because I could see a future with them. A wild, unconventional future, but one where I’m adored and loved and I have two men to love and adore in return. I never realized that I wanted two men at the same time. It didn’t occur to me that it could be a thing for me. I thought I was just picky and could never find enough qualities in a guy to appreciate to date him.
