Lock and Load: A Demented Sons MC Texas Novel

by Kristine Allen

  “Why? You’d rather ride with Slice?” His snark was unexpected, and I was speechless. Slice raised an eyebrow and cocked his head.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa. I only gave her a ride from work. I ain’t poaching, bro.” Hands held up with his palms facing Lock, Slice went wide-eyed as I uncomfortably stood there.

  “Make sure you don’t” was Lock’s quiet reply.

  “Lock. Chill, bro. I sent him to get her.” Smoke gave Lock a look I couldn’t decipher. Without answering Smoke, he shook his head, turned his back to me, and went inside.

  “What the heck was that? Am I missing something?” I asked the remaining guys.

  Styx spoke up first. “He’s been struggling. Doesn’t want you to know. One thing I will tell you is he’s doing really well, all in all. But it’s going to take time for him to be back to one hundred percent.”

  “Styx is right. Lock’s being pissy. You know that. Same old, same old. He’s also frustrated because when he told me he got the bike today, he said he was going to pick you up, but I told him to come here first. Honestly, I was worried he wasn’t ready for a passenger but I didn’t want to point it out and make him feel shitty. He’s already struggling, and I didn’t want to add to it.” Smoke shrugged and ran a hand through his hair.

  “I didn’t even know he was getting a bike today.” After I spoke, I realized I sounded like a pouting child and I was embarrassed as hell. But dammit, I would’ve liked to have gone with him to pick it out.

  “I’m not so sure he did either.” Check laughed.

  “What do you mean?” My brow rose in question. That didn’t make sense.

  “Well, he took me down to drop my bike off for some warranty work. Instead of driving me back here, I drove his truck and he rode that home.” He nodded toward the sleek beast they’d been checking out.

  Taking the time to really look the bike over, I realized it was more than a little different than Slice’s. It had a fancier seat and several details that were changed.

  “It’s beautiful,” I murmured. It really was. While Slice’s bike was black with chrome pipes and stuff, Lock’s new ride was all black. Every piece of it was black. Sexy-as-fuck black.

  “It should be. It’s a Street Glide CVO. Sweet-ass ride. He’s a lucky motherfucker.” Check stared at the bike with longing, though he was talking to me.

  “Um, yeah, you’re speaking Greek to me. All I got out of that was it’s a beautiful machine.”

  They all laughed and nodded as Check grinned and said, “That’s pretty much what I said.”

  “I don’t understand why he’s so pissy if he got this today. He should be in a great mood. Instead he acts like I piss him off by breathing. I think all I’m doing now is putting him out. Maybe it’s time for me to find my own place. He’s doing better and doesn’t really need me here.” The thought of leaving him and Presley made my chest ache. Then there was my new situation.

  “Raiven, why don’t you talk to him before you decide to leave?” Styx had pulled his attention from the bike and was giving me a concerned look.

  The last thing I wanted to do was talk to him in his current mood. I also had no idea if I should tell him about what I’d found out earlier. Telling myself I’d wait until Thursday when I knew more, I sighed. “I’m going in the AC. This heat is ridiculous. I don’t know why I let my uncle convince me to come here. Fuck.”

  They all chuckled as I walked off, and I shot them the middle finger over my shoulder.

  The cool air hit me as I stepped into the dim main room, and I moaned in relief.

  Lock was nowhere I could see, and I wondered if he’d gone back to our room. His room. It had been easy to forget it was really his room, since he was the member. It was only mine because I was there as a guest. Well, and because my uncle was a retired member. First I was there to keep me safe until the club knew what was up with Lock and Stefano. Then it was because I was there to take care of him.

  Which seemed to be coming to an end.

  Shuffling my tired ass into the room, I was surprised to see a couple of boxes packed. Lock was taping one shut as I closed the door. Cautiously, I glanced around, looking for a clue as to what was going on. All of his things were gone from the dresser top. Something told me if I looked, his shit would be gone from the drawers and the closet.

  “What’s going on?” I tentatively questioned.

  “Packing” was his curt answer.

  Exasperated, I plopped my purse on the bed. “I can see that. What I mean is, why are you packing?”

  “We’re leaving.”

  Though I could see it, I wasn’t truly prepared to hear it. A raw ache began to fester in my chest.

  “Oh.” Of course, I knew it would end eventually, but I didn’t realize how bad it would hurt. The pain when I tried to breathe deep was nearly debilitating. I sat on the edge of the bed and stared at my hands, willing my inner badass to get her ass out there.

  “Um, do you need help packing Presley’s things?” It was impossible to meet his eyes.

  “Already done.” At the clipped words, I glanced at the small bed. How I hadn’t noticed it was piled with her bags, I didn’t know. My only excuse was I was overwhelmed and tired.

  “Oh.” I was like a broken record.

  “There’s boxes there for you too.” He gestured to the flattened boxes leaning against the toddler bed.

  Confusion and worry wrinkled my brow. “They’re kicking me out since you’re leaving?”

  When I’d seen him packing, I’d hoped that since my uncle was a retired member, they’d let me stay until I found a place with reasonable rent.

  “What the hell are you talking about? You’re going with us. I found a house not far from here to rent for a while.” Stacking the boxes, he didn’t make eye contact.

  “Excuse me? You don’t need me to take care of you anymore.” He was confusing me with his back-and-forth shit. I got the cold shoulder one minute but then he was telling me I was moving in with them.

  Me being off my game didn’t help. I’d been moody, and my clothes were feeling a little snug, which was really a hit to the ol’ self-esteem. My back had been killing me, and I’d attributed it to all the leaning over from tattooing but after my news, I wondered if it wasn’t the baby.

  “I’m better but not all the way there yet. I could still use your help. I assumed, but I should have asked. Would you be willing to help me with Presley until I’m back to one hundred percent? Sometimes I still get tired, and she’s a handful.” Though he tried to act nonchalant, I thought I saw a flicker of something pass over his face as he set the roll of tape on the dresser. Something that almost looked like hope.

  Tamping down my excitement that I’d still be able to be around them, I pulled my lips between my teeth and acted like I was considering the idea. It made me a glutton for punishment to be so close to him when he was being so closed-off and grouchy, but I was a desperate addict.

  Being able to lay my eyes on him first thing in the morning and see him when I got off work had become a routine. One I’d enjoyed too much. Well, except for those few nights, but I didn’t want to think about them.

  Add Presley’s spunky little ass to the mix, and I was a hopeless junkie for them.

  “I mean, I guess I could. If it will help. Maybe I could find a place to rent close by after you’re better.” My finger trailed the stitch line of the comforter. “I need to find a vehicle I can afford though. Since we won’t be here for the guys to give me rides.”

  “I can drop you off on my way to the shop. I’m starting up next week. Until then, you can either take my truck or I’ll take you.” Through his spiel, he stood with his hands stuffed in his pockets and staring at his black boots.

  “Oh. Um, sure.” My mind was in turmoil, because with the way he’d been acting, I’d been getting the idea he didn’t particularly like me anymore. Then he made plans for me to move in with him. It didn’t make sense, and I wanted to tell him to fuck off because he’d been such a jerk, bu
t like a gluttonous idiot, I’d take it.

  Even though I shouldn’t.

  “Waking Up The Devil”—Hinder

  “You can have this room. The furniture should be delivered by about five.” I opened the door to a smaller but nice room next door to the master bedroom. The house was old, but it had character. Hardwood floors gleamed in the sun shining through the windows.

  “Okay, um, thanks. I feel bad that you bought furniture for me when I won’t be here long.” Raiven’s words set my teeth on edge. Fuck, I didn’t even want her in a separate room, let alone leaving at any point in the future.

  Except instead of telling her that, I’d been an asshole. My head was so fucked-up, but I selfishly wanted her, so I’d impulsively told her she was moving in with me.

  Hell, all the brothers knew she was mine. I’d practically pissed on her leg when Slice had given her a ride home on his bike yesterday. Not like they didn’t know before that, but fuck, it had pissed me off to see the woman I considered mine on the back of another’s dude’s bike. Whether he was a brother or not didn’t matter.

  Smoke had given me shit about being such a dick to her when he knew I wanted to claim her. The problem was, he didn’t understand the war that I fought in my head. Hell, I knew I wasn’t good for her, but I couldn’t cut her loose. They mistakenly thought that me bringing her to the house was me finally opening my damn mouth and telling her how things were.

  “It’s okay. I’ll need the furniture for this room to be a guest room anyway.” After you move into my room.

  The disappointment that flashed across her face vanished as quickly as it appeared, and she shot me a bright grin. “Well, that’s good then.”

  “Yeah.” Awkwardly we stood there staring at each other before I cleared my throat. “I’m going to go pick Presley up from Smoke’s, if you want to hang up your clothes. There are hangers in the closet.”

  “Do you want me to ride with you?” Was that hope I heard in her tone?

  Fuck, yes. In fact, I want you to ride me.

  My palm slapped my forehead before sliding up into my hair. Truthfully, I didn’t need to pick Presley up until three, but I was trying to separate myself from Raiven because the scent of her perfume was driving me insane. Seeing those fucking nipple piercings through her sweat-soaked neon-green tank top all day wasn’t helping either.

  “Sure.” Anguish tinged the single word answer at the continued torment I’d be experiencing. Fuck my life. I could not win.

  Her smile was brilliant as she slipped past me and grabbed her purse off the kitchen counter. “Ready!”

  Moving of their own accord, my feet carried me in her direction. Everything about her had been getting under my skin. The two times I’d been inside her seemed like an eternity ago. As if maybe they never happened but were part of the escape my mind dreamed up during the dark moments in my pitch-black cage.

  The closer I got, the more my body zinged. The more irresistible her pull became. If her deep, heaving breaths were any indication, she was experiencing something similar. For the last few weeks, I’d done my damnedest to stay away from her.

  I’d worked to recover my body, I’d tried to get my head straight, and I’d tried to talk myself out of the need to claim her as mine. I’d made every excuse I could think of to talk myself into letting her go as I regained my strength day by day. Hell no, I wasn’t back to where I was, that would probably take months, but I certainly wasn’t the same weakened and unstable person I’d been almost a month ago. Not physically and not mentally.

  The only people who knew I’d been seeing a shrink were Smoke and Styx. Was I still fucked-up in the head from the shit I’d seen and experienced both during deployment and during my captivity? Probably, okay, yes, but I had a better handle on it and I was sick to death of waiting.

  There. I’d admitted it.

  I was sick of watching her walk around braless when I couldn’t touch those beautiful jiggling tits. Hell, I could barely look without drooling. It was literally killing me.

  I was sick of walking around with a goddamn erection all day.

  I was sick of keeping my hands to myself.

  I was sick of denying the attraction that had existed between us from the first day.

  Hell, even my daughter loved her.

  Not that I loved her. No way. Lust was a far cry from love.

  “Lock, what are you doing?” Her eyes shone with uncertainty as she took a step back from me. When I simply continued to move in her direction, she took another step away. The closer I got, the further she scampered backward, until the counter was against her ass.

  Knowing I had her captive, I stopped when I was toe to toe with her and rested a hand on each side of her on the edge of the counter. “First of all, tell me why you stopped calling me Matlock and now it’s Lock. I don’t like it.”

  “Huh?” Confusion spread over her face as her soft breath tickled across my mouth.

  Instead of acknowledging her confusion, I decided to cut straight to the chase. Movements slow and calculating, I leaned in to speak in her ear. I was so close, her perfume teased me again, and my lips feathered along her ear as I spoke. “Raiven, I didn’t ask you to stay here because I need you to babysit me. I never did. I want you in my house, in my bed, and around my cock.”

  When she didn’t protest or push me away, my lips curled up at the corners. I’d lived my life for my daughter for over a year. I’d had no interest in a woman or a relationship. I’d tried to stay away from her, too.

  For Christ’s sake, I’d slept on a fucking cot at the clubhouse to remove myself from the temptation that was Raiven. Also, my daughter had been in the same room and I refused to only be able to fuck her in the goddamn bathroom.

  Maybe I didn’t want anything long-term, but I needed to feel her, taste her. I needed to know if she was as sweet and tight as I remembered. Her lack of fight told me I was going to get what I wanted.

  And I didn’t want to wait another second.

  “What about Presley?” she gasped as I blindly took her purse and set it to the side.

  “I don’t need to pick her up until three.” My teeth sank into the silky flesh of her neck, then a swipe of my tongue soothed it before it was pulled into my mouth for a gentle suck. Teasing her, I took my time trailing the tip of my tongue along her skin until I dipped between her luscious, full tits.

  Every inch of her salty skin I could reach was savored.

  At my slow, sensuous movements, a raspy moan escaped her plush lips.

  Before she could change her mind, my fingers deftly unbuttoned those cut-off shorts. The same ones that had been driving me crazy all damn day as we loaded and unloaded the few boxes from my truck and brought them in the house.

  So short that the pockets hung down lower than the frayed edges, I’d wondered all day if she had any panties under them. Long, tanned legs went on for miles underneath them, with her thigh tats begging for my tongue to trace their lines.

  Impatience my middle name, I wanted to rip those damn shorts open and throw them across the room to see what they hid. Instead, I fought tooth and nail for control. The zipper slid slowly down, leaving me almost disappointed to feel lace covering her pussy.

  “Lock.” My name was a breathless whisper as her head tipped back and I slid first one finger, then another under that damn lace. Frustrated with how it hindered my movements over her already soaking wet slit, I shoved down with the hand that was in her pants, forcing the shorts and underwear to drop as one to the kitchen floor.

  “Matlock. Say it,” I demanded as I hooked my hands around the backs of her thighs. The skimpy shorts fell with a soft thud when I lifted her to sit on the countertop. Her hiss as her bare ass hit the cold granite only drove me forward to grind my jean-clad dick against her sensitive flesh. “Say. It.”

  Defiantly, her eyes held mine, heavy-lidded and screaming sex. “If you want me saying your name, give me a reason to say it. Better yet, give me a reason to scream it.”
/>   “Game on.” I grinned wickedly. She had no idea what kind of storm she’d unleashed with those words.

  My fingers, rough from lifting weights, dug into her flesh at the backs of her knees as I raised them and pushed her legs open. The move had her falling back on the counter. Ever the defiant vixen, she didn’t lie flat. No, not her. She made sure she was resting on her elbows so she could watch me.

  In case she couldn’t take what I was about to do to her, I gripped her knees to keep her from moving. My lips pressed to the tender skin inside those knees, sending chills up her thighs that I chased like a beacon leading me home. My beard grazed her skin as my lips moved up toward that glistening pink slice of heaven.

  Paused at the most sensitive spot where her thigh joined with her mound, I nipped at the tendon just under her silken skin, then breathed in her tantalizing scent. If need had a scent, it would be her pussy. If it had a name, it would be Raiven.

  “Yes,” she sighed when my tongue swiped once through her leaking slit, and her fingers splayed on the cool granite. Dark as midnight, her hair spread across the surface as her head fell back. My palms slid up and pushed on her inner thighs when she attempted to tighten them on my head.

  Inhaling deeply, I savored her.

  Blowing on where I knew she wanted me to return, I reveled in her whimpers of desire.

  “Do you know how many times I imagined my tongue slipping into your cunt? Do you know how that image kept me sane in the dark? It was so vivid, I could taste you on my tongue, yet it had nothing on the reality of you.” I licked her again, then swirled around her clit.

  A needy gasp preceded her head lifting until her chin touched the top of her chest. Dazed blue eyes met mine before squeezing closed when I flattened my tongue and ran it bottom to top, then pressed on her clit again.

  A gust of air rushed from her lungs as she fell back to the counter and grabbed my hair with both hands. “Do you know how many times I dreamed of this? Feeling your hair threaded through my fingers? God, this is so much better than my imagination.”