Lock and Key

by Cat Porter

I looked Grace in the eyes and watched her come. She had sparked a curiosity in me and, more importantly, a particular desire that I thought had faded a long, long time ago.

  The desire to feel.

  Her eyes had been wide open with everything I gave her as if it were new, different. The mere fact that she was so eager for me drove me insane, made my heart race, and my dick pound. I didn’t want to stop. She was eager, but not rabid or showing off like some women around the club get when they’re desperate to have you and want to show you how good it can be with them if you keep tapping their ass. No, that wasn’t Grace.

  She was enjoying it, and I had a feeling she hadn’t let go like that in a long time. And I was right. She was relaxed, happy to be in that crap motel room with me, touching me, kissing me, letting me do all sorts of shit to her while she clung to me and moaned out my name over and over again. Somehow that genuineness loosened the slab of cement inside my chest.

  The next morning when I woke up alone I got pissed that she had cut out on me without a word. Not just because it was the first time that had happened to me or I wanted another go, but because I actually liked her.

  Imagine that?

  Disappointment gnawed at me. I didn’t even find out what her last name was, where she was headed, what the hell she was doing in South Dakota, for fuck’s sake. All I had were her black lace panties that had gotten gnarled up in my jeans on the floor.

  Did I have to throw the memory of us in the pile with all my other hookups? I didn’t want to. It stung, and it pissed me off that it stung. Grace didn’t belong there with all those nameless, faceless, forgotten women, and she certainly didn’t fit there. I wasn’t sure where she fit, but I knew for certain not there.

  The feel of her soft skin still burned all over me. I inhaled the musky scent of our sex on the sheets mixed with faint traces of her heady perfume. I lay still taking it all in on that creaky motel bed as the sun showed the first signs of morning. I had checked my watch. Shit, she could have crossed into Wyoming by now for all I know. I got dressed, shoved her panties in my pocket, and left.

  A couple hours later when I dragged my ass back to the clubhouse to check in with Jump, I passed the photo wall in the main room, and as usual my eyes instinctively went to the shot of Dig and his wife.

  I stopped dead in my tracks.

  Those eyes. That smile.

  It was her.

  Grace was Little Sister. She was Dig’s Old Lady from a lifetime ago.

  In the past fifteen years, Sister had literally not been heard from again. Not even from Alicia who had been her close friend. She must be back in town to see her sister. That gave me a spark of hope.

  Now that spark of hope just exploded into fireworks right here in the middle of a full clubhouse.

  “So what’s so great about her? I don’t get it,” Heather muttered, twisting a lock of her brassy red hair between her fingers.

  Goddammit.

  Grace had seen me getting blown by Heather earlier when she passed us in the hallway with Junk. The blood backed up in my veins. I peeled Heather off of me and moved forward. The bitch squealed from somewhere behind me.

  “Lock, what the fuck?”

  I didn’t bother looking back at her, but judging from her shriek, I was sure steam was coming out of her ears.

  Men jostled past me to greet Grace. The brothers she had never met—Bear, Kicker, Peck, Dready shook her hand. The men she obviously knew from the old days like Clip, Willy, and Boner stayed close to her.

  She was here. My dream come true.

  Heather’s long fingernails dug into my arm. “Hey, what the hell’s wrong with you?” Her green eyes flared at me.

  What a fucking disaster.

  Heather hadn’t let up for months. I had dipped in several times, but she had been way too clingy and too loud for my tastes. However, tonight I was jonesing for something I would probably never have again. Something I hadn’t realized was so profound. I took out my frustration and self-loathing on Heather.

  Tonight I had let her hang on me. She had pulled out all the stops as usual to get me to take her to my room and fuck her. I finally shut her up by shoving myself into her mouth in the hallway. But there was no relief in it nor any end to my torture. In fact, it only pissed me off and frustrated me even more.

  Same ol’, same ol’.

  Until I noticed a woman hit up Boner at the bar with a cryptic smile like she always belonged there, and it all began to make sense.

  Little Sister.

  Grace.

  That beautiful name. It was like a small breath, my secret prayer.

  Jump flung an arm around my shoulders and pulled me forward. “Lock,” he said. “This is Little Sister. I don’t think you two ever got a chance to meet. Ain’t that crazy, considering?”

  My chest constricted. Couldn’t I just throw her over my shoulder and get us the hell out of here? I took her small hand in mine and squeezed it. Her eyes dug into mine, her lips parted.

  Shocked, huh? You don’t know the half of it.

  I swallowed hard as her cold, soft hand settled in my large one. It was a hand whose touch my body knew too well. A swell of heat tightened my insides. That pull went through the two of us, that electricity in our touch was still there.

  “Nice to meet you,” tumbled out of her mouth.

  “Pleasure,” I said. My voice came out low. Her eyes darted to Jump’s then back to mine.

  “Lock is Wreck’s little brother, can you believe that?” Jump asked. His other hand clapped down on Grace’s shoulder.

  Her eyes went round. “You’re Wreck Tallin’s little brother? The soldier?”

  “Yeah.” A muscle spasmed in my cheek. “I’m Miller. Miller LeBeau.”

  She made a noise in her throat and turned over our joined hands. Her eyes found Wreck’s silver eagle ring on my finger.

  “Miller… of course.” She bit her lip, her face flushed.

  She knew who I was. It must all be coming back to her. The boy she used to pass in the hallway in high school and smile at sometimes. Her good friend’s little brother who he showed off tens of photos of in his Army uniform sitting on a tank in a number of battle zones in Europe.

  “Wreck was so proud of you.” Her hand squeezed mine. “He always used to tell me stories about—”

  “My brother loved to tell a good story,” I said. “He had mentioned you and Dig to me in his letters a lot.”

  Wreck had been twelve years older than me, and he had been a veteran too. He had been a mentor to Dig in his early years at the club. While I had been serving a tour of duty in Kosovo, Wreck had been shot down in cold blood during a fight at a bar while the boys were on a run in Texas. His sudden, unexpected death had shattered the club, just two months before Dig’s murder.

  “That’s his ring isn’t it?” she asked.

  “Yeah, it is,” I said. My fingers tightened their grip on hers, the heat unbearable. Both of us stared at the ring, stared at our hands clasped together.

  I had noticed at Dead Ringer’s how she had done a double-take when she saw my ring at the bar. In bed I had stroked her with it. I don’t know what the hell had come over me, but she was lying there having just come hard, purring with the satisfaction I had given her. Her gorgeous body all lush and relaxed… totally irresistible. I’d wanted to ignite her all over again.

  Jump’s voice sliced through us. “We saved the ring for Lock before we buried Wreck.”

  My hand was on fire, my cock twitched in my jeans. I finally loosened my grip on her hand and let go, but I didn’t want to. Her gaze darted up at me.

  Jump released me and slung his arm around his Old Lady. “We came to see you in the hospital plenty of times, Sister, but you were out of it for a long while. Then when you finally came to, you were either hysterical when you saw us or just plain dead in the eyes. It was horrible.”

  Well, don’t we have plenty in common?

  I remember that feeling well when half my unit had been blown to b
its in a mine field. It had later been cemented in the pit of my chest when I was told Wreck had been killed, and I was thousands of miles away.

  “It was a smart thing to do though, leaving,” said Alicia. “Ruby said it was better for you to start over somewhere new. Clean slate. She was right, wasn’t she?”

  Grace only nodded.

  Clean slate, my ass. No such thing. Oh, Grace.

  “What you went through was brutal, honey. No denying it,” Alicia said. “I always hoped we’d see you again, and here you are. Look at you, you look great, so pretty…”

  Grace blushed and let out a laugh. Her features relaxed for just a moment like a young girl’s. Something pinched in my chest.

  “And you are still a hot mama!” Grace said in a throaty voice that sent a ripple right through me. She took Alicia in her arms, and they clung to each other. A sob escaped Grace’s lips.

  “Suzi, get her a whiskey!” I yelled.

  I grabbed her one arm, and Alicia pushed her down into an armchair. Boner came running with a glass full of whiskey. She gulped the liquor and swiped away the wetness at her beautiful greenish brown eyes. Jump and Alicia sat on the end of the sofa next to her.

  “Where you been, hon’?” Jump asked, a hand on her shoulder. “You come back to stay?”

  “I’ve been moving around,” Grace said. “I could never sit still in one place long enough. I never felt I could settle down.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut. All that evasiveness and wariness she had offered up to me at the bar suddenly made sense, as did her crazy nomad existence over the past years.

  “I came back a couple of weeks ago because Ruby’s sick. She needs me, and I need your help.”

  “I heard she’s been in the hospital,” said Jump. “You need help with the medical bills?”

  “No, nothing like that. She’s got good insurance,” she said. “It’s cancer. She needs a bone marrow transplant. I thought maybe you all could come get tested, put out the word, as well. We don’t have a match yet. I don’t even match. Found out today. Do you believe that?” She brought the glass to her lips once more and drank. “I was supposed to match. I’m her sister.”

  Oh, shit.

  “Honey, I’m so sorry,” Alicia murmured, her hand went to Grace’s knee.

  Grace cleared her throat. “Jump, I was also hoping you could help me find my dad. If he’s still alive, he’s the only relative left. It’s worth a shot.”

  “Lock here is good at investigative shit,” Jump said. “You just give me whatever you got on him, and we’ll get on it, right brother?”

  “Absolutely,” I said.

  She took another gulp of her drink “Thanks,” she whispered.

  My pulse skidded with the sound of that breathy whisper. The same whisper that had taken my breath away sixteen nights ago with “Oh, God, yes. Don’t stop. Miller, you feel so good. What are you doing to me…” I shifted my weight, my hand slid down my chest.

  “Ruby’s son is such a cutie,” said Alicia. “She gave him Dig’s real name, didn’t she?”

  Grace nodded and gave Alicia a half smile.

  “That’s sweet,” Alicia said.

  “Sure is,” Boner said. He eased down on the arm of Grace’s chair and ran a hand over her hair.

  Grace took another drink and rested her arm on Boner’s leg. Her eyes darted up at Alicia. “She did it for me, you know,” Grace said. Alicia’s eyes widened at her. She nodded and squeezed her hand.

  Holy shit, that’s right. Grace and Alicia had been pregnant at the same time fifteen years ago, but Grace had lost her baby in the attack.

  Boner rubbed her shoulders. “Dig saved Ruby’s hide more than once, helped her get on her feet after all was said and done. And he sure made her little sister real happy.” His voice was unusually gentle, his eyes soft. He planted a kiss on her forehead. Shit, here was infamous club history I had always heard about playing out before me. Witnessing volatile, crazy-ass Boner’s sudden transformation into a soft-spoken, caring big brother with Grace was nothing short of amazing.

  Grace parked her empty glass on the table. “There’s something else I need to know.”

  “Shoot,” said Jump.

  She straightened her back, and her eyes cut to his.

  “Where did you bury my husband?”

  The weekend party with the Demon Seeds ran through Tuesday morning when the last of them roared out of the gates. Dig and I had begun our little charade that wasn’t much of a charade on Friday night. The entire weekend we had been inseparable, but we didn’t do “the deed.” We had done everything but in his bed every night and every morning, and by the time Sunday rolled around I was desperate for him. He was desperate for it too, but was keeping himself in check. His self-control amazed me. Dig was a hundred times the man that someone like Trey Owens was or could ever hope to be.

  I figured it was because he didn’t want me to get attached to him or clingy if he deflowered me. Bikers didn’t do attachments, did they? They were all about freedom, their bike, the open road, and a good time on their own terms. Several of the older members of the club had old ladies and kids, but a twenty-seven year old sexy man like Dig? He certainly wasn’t boyfriend or relationship material. He could have anyone he wanted whenever he wanted, and I was sure they lined up for him regularly. I had no delusions about that.

  Yep, I knew that once my lunatic weekend in One-Eyed Jacks Land was over, I would get right back on the bus to Reality.

  The Demon Seeds left, and Dig brought me to my house on his bike. This was the big goodbye. I held my breath as he popped the kickstand. I leaned on his shoulders and swung off his Harley.

  What should I say? ‘Thanks for the good time?’ God no. Um…

  Dig dismounted and followed me to the front door.

  Oh. Very polite.

  I shoved the key in the lock and turned the knob. “Get your bikini,” he said. “We’re going to the Hippie Hole for a swim.”

  My eyes popped open. He invited me!

  It was a pretty warm day for early September in South Dakota. When we had left the clubhouse earlier, all the men were setting off for their favorite swimming hole in Big Falls with plenty of beer, weed, and food to unwind after the long weekend. Dig hadn’t said a word about it ,and I hadn’t asked.

  “Oh, okay,” I said. On the inside, I jumped up and down for joy.

  We entered my house and passed the kitchen to get to my room.

  “Peanut, what the fuck?” He stood in the center of the glass strewn on the floor of the kitchen, his eyebrows knit together.

  “Oh.” I shrugged and let out a sigh. “I had a spaz before I came looking for you at the club Friday night.”

  His lips twitched as he stared at me. He shifted his weight; his heavy boots crunched shards of glass and plastic underfoot. Emotion flickered across his features, and he took in a breath.

  The sudden silence in the room pressed in on me. “What?” I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “What is it?”

  “Come here,” he said, his voice gruff.

  I didn’t hesitate. Under his burning gaze I scooted over to him, my boots crunching over the debris. He lifted me up in his embrace, hooked my legs around his waist. I wrapped my arms around his neck, and his mouth took mine in a gentle kiss. His hands pressed into my ass under my skirt.

  “This shit’s over for you, baby. You’re with me now. You got that?”

  My heart pounded in my chest. I only nodded at him and rubbed the back of his neck with my fingers.

  “Ruby will be fine in jail, we’ve got her protected,” he said. “I don’t want you worrying about her. She’ll be out in no time, you’ll see. I’ll take you to visit her whenever you want.” He studied my reaction. “Either you stay with me, or if you want we can stay here. What do you say?”

  Together with Dig. We were together.

  You’re with me now.

  My legs tightened around him, and I bit my lower lip. Dig’s head tilted at me. “What is it
?” he asked.

  “I’m with you, now?”

  “Yeah, baby.” His lips brushed my mouth.

  “Does that make me a club bitch?”

  He laughed. “Hell, no. It makes you mine. This sweet ass is only mine, baby.” His fingers dug into my bare skin and my insides seized.

  “Oh.” I averted my gaze. My fingers played with the worn collar of his faded club t-shirt.

  He pinched my rear, and my eyes shot up to his. He scowled at me. “Come on, spill it,” he said.

  “I was just wondering. Does that mean you’ll still be, um, partying like before?” I asked. I just couldn’t come out and say it in plain English. What if he laughed at me and said something like: “Of course, Peanut, I’m a tough biker dude. Deal with it.” I knew I’d be crushed. All this was already too good to be true. My heart stopped as I waited for his reply.

  “What did you call me at the party… a man-whore?” he asked.

  I tugged on his hair. “You are.”

  His eyes softened over my face, and he grinned. “If I got it good under my own roof, I won’t look for it elsewhere.”

  I smirked at him. “Well now, that’s quite a deal then,” I said. He chuckled. My fingers traced the side of his handsome face.

  “You won’t get bored?”

  “You don’t bore me,” he said, his voice just above a whisper.

  “Hmmm.”

  “Hmmm?” He grinned at me. “As long as you’re not too much of a bitch, we’ll be cool.”

  “Women are not always bitches, you know” I said.

  “Peanut, I don’t think there’s any bitch in you at all,” he murmured against my lips. “You’re nothing but sweet.” His tongue drove into my mouth. His eyes remained on me as he lifted my body higher in his hold.

  “There’s more to me than sweet,” I said.

  “Believe me, I’ve noticed. I’m looking forward to figuring it all out.”

  I soared to the top of the world right there and then in that haunted house. He put me down on my feet and my boots chomped on the glass. It was the most beautiful sound I had ever heard.

  “I want to see your room,” he said.

  “You do?”

  “I want a bikini fashion show, then you’re gonna strip for me.” His hand went under my skirt and rubbed the bare flesh of my rear. He shoved me into his erection.