LOVE IN LOCKDOWN: A Charity Anthology

by Tracy Lorraine

  He thought he’d killed her, dumped her body in a thicket of overgrowth.

  She was found by a kid, playing. Unfortunately, it was too late to save her.

  That poor child will forever have to live with those memories. Seeing such evil changes a person.

  Crawling into bed, I switch the lamp off and watch the small sliver of moonlight creep over the ceiling from the gap in the wood Grim covered my window with. Grabbing my Kindle, I search my library for something fluffy and romantic to read to take my mind off everything. I’m two pages into a shifter romance when a sudden thumping sound makes me dart upright in bed, my Kindle launching almost across the room. What the hell was that? Another sound sends my heart leaping. Creeping out of bed, I tiptoe to my bedroom door to peer out, fear crawling up my throat and lodging there. Shadows dance across the ceiling and walls. Nerves riot inside me. A chill races up my spine, making my stomach dip. Another creak that sounds like footsteps carries through the night. God, what would I do if someone got in here?

  I look around for a weapon, opting for heeled shoes from my closet. I know I’m acting stupid and being paranoid. I’m a doctor for God’s sake, but I’m also a woman living alone.

  Hulk comes running into the bedroom like something startled him, sending a wave of nausea through my body. I need to confront the fear. And possible intruder. A crash loud enough to make me scream thunders through the house. It feels like an earthquake, shaking the foundation.

  I run to the side of the bed and grab my phone from my nightstand. Police will take too long to get here, so I bring up Grim’s number and hit call. He picks up on the third ring, each one an eternity.

  “Who’s this?”

  “It’s Monroe,” I murmur, my hands shaking.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I think someone broke in my house.” Or broke through it, more like. “Hello?” I whisper, tears building in my eyes as I watch the bedroom door, waiting for a murderer to come through it at any moment. I’m going to feel so stupid when there’s no one here. Please no one be here.

  “Hello? Are you still there?” I’m almost sobbing, every hair follicle on my body standing on end. There’s nowhere to run. The windows are boarded up. I’m trapped.

  A sudden boom vibrates through the house, making me almost drop the phone.

  “Monroe?” Grim calls out, and a sudden wave of relief washes through me, making the tears fall. “I’m in here,” I call back.

  My door opens, and Grim stands there in all his magnificent glory, wearing nothing but tight ass boxer briefs that are soaked through, showing off everything he has to offer—and damn, he has a lot to offer. His body is toned and colored with ink and rain pellets. He’s like a wet dream. My body is on full alert, responding to the sight before me. All fear and panic dissipate.

  “Your tree is in your living room,” he tells me, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder.

  “What?” I shake my head to clear my thoughts

  He marches over to me, his meaty palm gripping the back of my head and tugging me against his chest. His body is warm against my cheek, and I feel his package against my flimsy bed shorts.

  “It could have killed you if it came through your bedroom.” He sounds concerned.

  “I’m okay,” I tell him, my arms hanging limp by my sides. I want nothing more than to wrap them around his torso, but I feel awkward.

  Releasing me, he cups my cheeks and leans down to look in my eyes. “You scared the shit outta me.”

  Guilt and embarrassment flames up my cheeks. I feel really stupid. “I’m sorry. I heard something, and then the big crash.”

  “You’re going to have to come to stay with me tonight.”

  “What…why?” I can’t focus with him practically naked in my room. Am I dreaming?

  “Because there’s a tree in your living room. It came through the roof. It’s not safe.”

  “Oh god.” I was told that damn tree would never move. This is a nightmare.

  “It’s okay. We can figure it out tomorrow, but we need to move. It’s chaotic out there,” He strokes down my arms in a calming manner, as if reading my thoughts.

  “Hulk. I need Hulk,” I sputter, looking around the room to see where he ran to hide.

  “Who the fuck is Hulk?”

  “My cat.”

  “You named your cat Hulk?” His lips thin, like he’s holding in a laugh.

  “When he’s pissed, he puffs all his fur and Hulks out.” I shrug.

  Another loud crack sounds above us, drawing our attention.

  “It’s not stable in here. We need to go.” Grim loses all his amusement and tries to pull me out of the room.

  “Hulk, come here, boy.” I jerk from his hold and rush to my bed, seeing the illuminating eyes staring out at me. Grabbing him from beneath it, I take Grim’s offered hand, allowing him to guide me through the house. He wasn’t joking. The tree from my yard crashed through the roof, taking out the boarded-up window, and is now covering my entire living space. It’s huge and will cost a fortune to get fixed. The storm rages both outside and in, wreaking havoc.

  “We’re going to have to run,” Grim warns me, leading me around the debris to my front door, which is hanging by its hinges. Did he kick it in?

  “Ready?” he asks. Before I can answer, we’re running. The wind roars, almost taking us off our feet. The rain lashes glass pellets off our skin. The sky booms, lighting up like Thor summoning his power. I’m dragged up the porch steps and deposited inside Grim’s house. Hulk leaps out of my hands to find somewhere to hide.

  “Thank you for coming over.” I shiver, swiping at the water coating my face. Stomping out of the room, he returns with a towel for each of us. I look around at the place, pleasantly surprised to see it look so…cozy and well put together. “Is Ruby here?” I ask. I feel awkward, out of my comfort zone.

  Drying his body and then his hair, he wraps his towel around his waist, covering the view from me. “No. She lives with her mother during the week,” he states, matter of fact. Mother? My jaw almost hits the floor.

  “She’s…she’s your daughter?”

  A line creases his brow “Fuck no. She’s my sister. Father’s side. Different mother.”

  “Oh…wow. Okay,” I chuckle, but it’s from nerves, not amusement. He puts me on edge.

  “How old do you think I am?” he asks, those whiskey eyes traveling over my wet clothes. I pause in drying my hair, my breath quickening from his appraisal. I’m well aware my top is practically see-through and my shorts barely cover my ass cheeks.

  “Some people have kids young,” I defend, using the towel to cover myself.

  “I don’t have any kids,” he states, like it’s important I know that fact.

  “Okay. Did she help you with the décor or…” It’s so hard being under his gaze. It’s like looking at the sun, his stare is so intense you have to look away.

  “No. My brother’s ol’ lady helped me get it set up.”

  “Ol’ lady? Like, girlfriend?” I shift on my bare feet that have mud all over them. Cringing at the mess I’m making on his floor, I lean down to scrub the mud away, making note to take this towel and wash it for him.

  “Property. Wife,” he says, tracking my action. Embarrassment colors my neck.

  Property? Like a possession?

  “Property? That’s horrible, Grim.”

  He closes in around me, forcing me backwards until my back hits the wall. My breath catches, all air fleeing my lungs. “You know my fucking name, woman, and to be a brother’s property is everything to his ol’ lady. It means she belongs to her man, and all brothers will respect her and defend her to the ends of the earth. She’s his, and he’s hers. Damn right she’s a possession—an adored one.”

  Well…crap. That’s kind of hot.

  “Do…” I stutter over my words.

  “Spit it out, Monroe,” he breathes. He’s so close, his breath kisses over my face. I can almost taste him.

  “Do you have
an ol’ lady?” I whisper, feeling lightheaded. The smile that curls up his lips sends a wave of pleasure through my body.

  “No. Not yet. But I’m working on it.”

  Gulping, I ask, “The girl who visits during the week?” Please say no.

  Again, a look of confusion tugs at his brow. “Lily? She’s sixteen.” He moves away from me, running a hand through his hair. “You think I’d be into teenagers? I’m no fucking pervert. Lily is also my sister. She lives here during the week for school.”

  Cold air saturates me as he moves away. I liked having him close, crowding me in.

  They’re both his sisters. “School?”

  “Yeah. School.” He pulls on a pair of jeans from a pile on a chair. “Her mother was a club slut. She split after Lily was born. Lily stays here during the week for school, then goes with her grandparents on the weekends.”

  “Club slut?”

  He’s looking at me again, shirtless, his ink staining flawlessly toned abs. Fuck, how is he that perfect?

  “A groupie—a bitch who just likes to fuck bikers.” He moves closer, leaning down to growl in my ear. “Because we’re good at fucking.”

  My knees almost buckle. My nipples tighten and tent the fabric of my camisole.

  “So, you’re a big brother taking care of his sisters?” I find myself saying on a dreamy exhale. Guilt for thinking he was just a two-timing asshole eats away at my stomach. He sits on the edge of the couch, resting his elbows on his knees, hands in his hair. I’m perched on the arm of the chair across from him.

  “Ruby’s mother brings men home on weekends, and I don’t like Ruby being there, so she stays here. I didn’t know about the parties. I’m usually doing club business on weekends.” He looks over at me. “She’s eighteen, so I didn’t think I’d need to be here monitoring her every second, you know? With Lily, it’s different. She’s younger. I bought this house to give them both a place to feel safe and protected. A home they can call theirs.”

  Wow, I feel like a real bitch for thinking the worst of him.

  “You’re shivering. Let me get you something to change into,” he says before leaving the room again.

  I twine my hands together, looking around the room. There are photos of the three of them together on the mantle, smiling and having fun. An array of colorful throw pillows cover the couches, making me smile. It’s nothing like what I expected. Hell, I don’t know what I expected, but he’s surprised me at every turn.

  “Here.” He hands me a large tee with a skull printed on the front. “It’s mine.” He nods.

  “Erm…thanks. Would it be ok to use the shower?” I don’t ask why he didn’t get me something of Ruby’s. We’re about the same size.

  He gestures down the hall. “Bathroom’s that way.” Before I reach the door, tornado sirens begin to wail outside.

  “Fuck. Sorry, Monroe, that shower will have to wait.” He grasps my hand in his and leads me through the kitchen to the basement door. Flicking a switch, he brings me down the steps, and I’m astonished. Unlike my basement, his has wood floors, a couch, table, fridge, and TV. “We’ll be safe down here for the night. The couch pulls out to a bed.”

  “It’s impressive. My basement is like something from a Kruger movie.” I laugh awkwardly, slipping his tee over my head. It drowns me in size, offering comfort. I shimmy out of the camisole and fold it, stashing it near the steps so I don’t forget it when I leave. It’s crazy being down here with him. I’m completely at his mercy, but I’m not scared. There’s something about him that makes me feel safe, protected. The way he looks at me isn’t as a stranger or even a neighbor. There’s something so much more in his gaze, the intensity powerful and consuming, like our souls know each other and are re-connecting after being apart.

  “Drink?”

  “Sure.” I smile, taking the bottle of beer he offers and following him to the couch where he sits with a bottle of whiskey. “Are you worried about your sisters with the storm?”

  “Nah. Lily’s grandparents have a shelter, and Ruby’s out of town on vacation. She left this afternoon.” He takes a hearty gulp of the bottle. “What about you? Parents? Siblings?”

  I bring my knees up and hug them, watching him over the lip of my bottle. “Parents had me later in life. I was a surprise baby, so things were always strained at home. Not bad, just never really felt wanted, you know?” I shrug. “I have a brother who’s much older. We don’t have much in common. He lives in Vancouver with his wife.”

  “Friends?” he asks, and I feel like a leper. Who gets to my age and has no life?

  “I have work friends, but it’s hard to find time for socializing with my job. I practically live at the hospital.” It’s not a lie.

  “So, you’re alone?” he asks, sadness in his tone.

  Emotion grips my throat. “Yeah, I guess I am.” I force a smile on my face to mask the hole expanding in my chest.

  “Was,” he corrects. “You have me now.” He offers me the whiskey bottle.

  I want to laugh. It’s ludicrous, right? We hardly know each other. And yet, his words send warmth racing through my veins, giving me a high more potent than the beer in my hand.

  “Do I?” I take his offering and swig from the bottle, sipping down the alcohol, my thoughts muddled and heady. There’s something about being locked down with someone. Everything’s heightened. Maybe it’s like Vegas—what happens in lockdown stays in lockdown.

  I hand back the drink, the atmosphere thickens, charging from the undeniable connection building between us.

  “You’ve had me since the day I came to the hospital, woman. I’ve thought of nothing but making you mine.”

  What the hell is he talking about? My pussy clenches at the thought of him making me his. “What? How…you haven’t even spoken to me.” I shake my head in disbelief. It’s been six months since I treated him. My eyes drop to his scar.

  “I’ve been giving you time to get used to the idea before I claimed you.”

  I get to my feet to pace the floor. He’s crazy. Claimed me? What the…?

  My thoughts consume me. Images of his “claiming” run rampant, sending a swirl of need to my core.

  “What if I never got used to it?” My voice is heavy, giving away my longing.

  “Wasn’t an option.”

  “What if I started dating someone else, completely oblivious to what you had planned?” I ask, astonished. He’s given no clues to being interested in me apart from the way he looks at me, which burns my insides with need.

  He stands, those eyes narrowing on me, making my pulse leap. “Not a fucking option.”

  Wow, it shouldn’t be a turn on, but fuck, he’s so hot. Shit, I want him to fuck me. My body heats, craving his touch. I want to breathe him in and feel him inside me. Desire spreads through every molecule, igniting a need so compelling, I don’t feel like myself. I’m just a surge of energy ready to combust. I’m fucking starving, and I need him to feed me.

  “So…?” I don’t know what to say. I don’t want to over think why I shouldn’t let myself have this moment. I just want to feel good for a change. I could have died tonight.

  “So?” he growls, closing in. The bottle drops from my hand, clanking on the floor at my feet. His broad palms clasp my face. I bring my hands to grasp his wrists, holding on for dear life. “I’m going to kiss you now.”

  “Okay,” I whimper. And then he’s kissing me, soft lips crashing hard against mine, once, twice, taking his fill. From this point on, I know I’ll never be the same. He deepens the kiss, parting my lips, his hot tongue gliding into my mouth with fervent urgency. Fuck. All the air in my lungs leaves. Butterflies don’t flutter in my stomach, they dance.

  “Say my name, Monroe,” he teases, pulling away, peppering kisses down my jawline to my neck.

  “No,” I toy with him. His lips skate across my skin, making my pulse thud. I’m drowning in his touch, coming undone under his attention. It becomes apparent every kiss before this one was amateur. They we
ren’t meant for me—not like this one. Jameson’s kisses light me from within. They’re designed just for me, and I can’t get enough.

  Chapter Five

  Jameson…

  Swiping my tongue over the pulse in her neck earns a moan from her perfect fucking lips. I’ve waited for this moment, daydreamed about having her in my arms, her skin beneath my palm, pussy around my cock. She’s so needy and ready, I could make her come with the barest of touches. Her body responds to mine like it was made for my touch and my touch alone.

  “I’ve wanted you on my tongue for so long,” I growl against her throat, biting down on her collarbone, leaving my teeth marks there. My hands roam her body. She’s so soft, like she’s coated in silk. My fingers tangle in her hair, tightening and jerking to draw her head back, giving me better access. I chase her gulp with my tongue, kissing, sucking down her chest.

  Gripping my tee she’s wearing, I rip it down the middle. Her bare tits become exposed to my greedy eyes, her rosy nipples hard and ready for attention. I close my mouth over the peak, swirling my tongue and sucking, my palm squeezing. She writhes against me, desperate for more. I can’t believe this is finally fucking happening. Her hands explore my bare chest urgently. I grip the hem of her shorts and tug them down her thighs. Lifting her, she wraps her legs around me as our lips devour each other, her hot naked body against mine.

  The skin on the skin evokes desperation to be inside her.

  Walking us to the couch, I drop back into a sitting position with her still clutched to me, a tremor of euphoria skating over every fucking nerve in my body.

  “I want inside you so fucking bad, Monroe,” I groan against her flesh. She’s going to become an addiction. I already crave my next hit and I haven’t even had her yet.

  “Then take me,” she purrs, grinding her body down on me. Her hands fumble with my jeans, unbuttoning them. I help her nudge them down, freeing my cock. She takes me in her petite hand, stroking, toying with the pre-cum glistening the tip, and it’s pure bliss.

  There are no nerves, no hesitation, just burning need. She moves her hips, lining herself up, and I almost lose my damn mind when she lowers herself onto me. Gentle movements take me all in, her pussy stretching around my girth. She’s so fucking wet and hot, I’m not sure I’m going to last at this rate.