Under Locke

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Under Locke Page 48

by Mariana Zapata


  This wasn't a dump but I wasn't going to argue that point with him. I knew what he was trying to do. Talk me out of any residual love I had for Tamarac and Ft. Lauderdale. The sneaky son of a gun.

  I couldn't help but laugh more to myself than at him. I'd let him slide, so instead I focused in on what he said about the Widows. "Dex? Why are you even in the club if you don't really care about it? I mean, I know you do all their accounting crap and other stuff with them but I don't think you really...how can I say this? Enjoy being in it, I guess?"

  He lifted a hand and tapped his fingers over his lips in a thoughtful gesture. "Tradition, babe. I'm a legacy. And by the time I got out of county, Lu had already cleaned shit up. Half the Widows were gone, and..." he paused and dropped his hand. His lips pursed in what I'd later on figure was a disbelieving and possibly embarrassed gesture. "Luther had been the only one to offer to help me out once I got back from Dallas, so I kinda owed it to him, ya know?"

  There it was. That fierce loyalty. He didn't have a clue how that was the most attractive thing about him. It trumped his face, his ink, his body, everything. Dex Locke was true. He was grounded.

  And, I really was in love with him.

  “He signed Pins’ first lease and loaned me the money without even thinkin’ about it. Nobody else even offered besides Blake helpin’ with the shop’s license. I help out the Club mainly because of Lu.”

  “That was really nice of him.”

  “He’s the best man I’ve ever known. Most people don’t see all the good in him because he’s so serious, you know. But Lu’s got his shit together and most of the time, he knows what he’s talkin’ about. Can’t help but listen to him when he says somethin’. Keep your shop separate from the club. Keep your nose clean. Lock that sweet girl down before you regret that shit. So I pay attention. ”

  I couldn’t help but grin to myself when he touched the side of my thigh with his last statement. I reached out to touch the side of his thigh in return. The corner of his mouth tipped up at the contact.

  "As long as he’s in, I’m in. I like mindin' my own business and he gets that. I'm there when I'm there, and they got enough members to do whatever else I don't wanna. Works out all right every way around."

  Even imagining someone trying to get him to do something that he didn't want to, seemed ridiculous. Preposterous. And that thought made me smile. He was who he was and you either accepted it or not.

  And then I dropped the smile as soon as I thought of how much of a dick he'd been when we'd first met, any thought of loving him temporarily slipped away.

  Well, I guess it wasn't always so cute, but we'd gotten past that and I wouldn't bring it up.

  Knowing he'd lose his mind if I unbuckled my seatbelt, I kissed my fingertips and reached over to press them to his cheek, grinning like a moron because Dex would be amused with the gesture. He didn't let me down, a goofy half grin covered his mouth. "You're one of the best people I know."

  He didn't say anything in return, but each time I looked over at him afterward, the pensive look on his face was stained with pure smugness.

  We passed by the hospital my mom used to work at, and I was suddenly slammed with the reminder that I'd hopefully be seeing my dad in a few hours. I wondered what he looked like for some reason. Would he still have the same beard? Would he recognize me immediately? Would he think that I looked like my mom?

  "Babe, what the hell is that sigh for?" Dex asked.

  I groaned low enough that he might have not heard. "I think I'm nervous about seeing my dad for the first time in forever." I sighed. "It feels like the first day of school or something. It might be almost as bad as my first day at Pins."

  He flicked both dark eyebrows up. "Nothin' to be worried about," he assured me.

  Nothing at all.

  Not if he didn't have the money.

  Not if he'd skipped town.

  If, if, if, if, and more friggin' if.

  Had I mentioned before how much I hated relying on another people?

  Especially when that person was the least reliable individual I'd possibly ever met.

  "Charlie..."

  He chuckled, flicking those bright blue eyes in my direction. "Don't worry about it."

  I mashed my lips together and kept my worries to myself. There wasn't a point in stressing until we knew for sure if he really was in town. Sure Luther wouldn't have a reason to lie, and I'd hope his friend wouldn't either, but I wasn't going to put all my eggs into one basket. I'd worry when I knew for sure Curt Taylor was around.

  I spotted a few more places I'd seen a hundred times before. The family owned hardware store, the grocery store, the salons that had been around since mullets had been in style.

  And it was all way too deja-vu like.

  Reminders of some of the best times of my life and the worst.

  The hotel we pulled into was a member of a big chain, something I'd found for cheap on my phone when we'd entered Florida. I'd paid for it before telling Dex anything because he'd try to talk me into grabbing his credit card. I sleepwalked through check-in, filling out paperwork with the worst handwriting ever.

  "Here you go," the hotel employee said as she handed me two key cards, her eyes straying from the tattoo on Dex's neck, and then back over to the nasty bruise on my cheek.

  Oh hell. Whatever.

  I wrapped my arm around Dex's and leaned into him, the side of my face pressed to his bicep like it was the most natural thing in the world. Those blue eyes glanced down at me, lined and circled in purplish blue, and one side of his mouth tipped up. His free hand went up to smooth over the top of my head. "C'mon, lazy bones."

  There's no doubt in my mind I resembled an adoring puppy on the walk to our room.

  "Shower first, honey, I gotta call Son and Lu to check up with 'em," Dex said as we dropped our bags just inside the door.

  I nodded at him before fishing through the duffel bag, eyeing the king sized bed that took up the majority of the room. I poked him in the arm as I passed by, rushing through my shower, and getting dressed in an old threadbare sweatshirt and plain bikini panties before I somehow managed to fall asleep standing.

  Just as I was about to open the door, I heard Dex on the other side.

  "—better than that. Quit bein' a dumb fuck about it," he bit off.

  Well. I don't think he'd be talking to Luther like that, and if it was Sonny he was talking to...then, I'd like to hear that conversation.

  "She told me everything." He paused. "Yeah, that too. Look, Son—"

  Five guesses as to what my traitor-ass brother could be finally spilling.

  "I want this shit over with...Yeah...I wanna go back home, and she's comin' with me. How fuckin' hard is that for you to understand? She's mine, my brother, and I don't give a single fuck if you're mad about it or not. It is what it is and you gotta remember how well you know me....You think I'd be here if I didn't?"

  Crap. At that moment, I would've given my first born to know what Sonny was saying on the other line instead of settling for guesses. Sometimes I hated how curious I was. I should have just gone into the bedroom like a normal person. Oh, who am I kidding? Anybody would be standing on the other side of the door eavesdropping.

  Dex made a noise that sounded like a snarl. "This isn't gonna be a goddamn waste of her time or mine. I’m a grown ass man, Son. You’re not gonna tell me what I can and can’t do. I know exactly what I’m doin’. You wanna try to beat the shit out of me when we get back? 'Kay. I don't give a shit. You're not changin' my mind. Piss your little pants—"

  Sonny must have cut him off because the next thing he did was laugh bitterly. "Not a single fuck. Not half of one. Not a quarter of one. Nothin'. You can kiss my fuckin' ass and so can Trip. I'll call you when I find your pa, ya stubborn fuck."

  Then there was nothing.

  I waited a few minutes on the other side of the door, waiting to see if Dex said anything else but that was a negative. There was only some rustling and creaking as he
moved around the room.

  Well. Okay. Wiping off my what-the-hell expression, I opened the door casually. Dex was sitting on the edge of the bed when I came out, stripped down to his boxers and yawning with his mouth wide open. Totally comfortable. Completely relaxed like he hadn't just gotten into an argument with my brother.

  Once again, Charles Dexter Locke, with his solid, bulging six pack, full ink sleeves, pierced nipples, and the darn cutest tattooed red octopus, was sitting there nearly naked.

  My mouth fluttered wordlessly.

  Would this ever get old? I sure as heck hoped not.

  "You're so hot." The statement was out of my mouth before I could withhold it.

  Now, the smile that crept over his tired, still yawning features, was absolutely not withheld. He leaned back on his hands, watching me with those tired eyes. "Come here," he murmured.

  Like I was going to hesitate when I had the chance to stand so close to him and all that glorious warm skin. I stopped between his widespread legs.

  Dex sat up, gripping the back of my thighs loosely before starting a trail up over the curve of my ass, beneath the thin and stretched out material of my sweater. It was second nature to still wear long-sleeved stuff, regardless of whether he knew about my arm or not. Luckily, he didn't point it out as his hot hands circled most of my waist, his thumbs making these tiny circles just above my belly button ring. My shirt bunched over his arms.

  "Seen a lot of things in my life—"

  Don't vomit, Iris.

  By a lot of things, he didn't necessarily mean people.

  Okay, who am I kidding, he probably did.

  I wasn't going to puke. I wasn't.

  "But you," his nostrils flared, "my sweet, sweet baby, have gotta be my favorite by far. I think you win first through one-hundredth place." His head dipped forward to bite at the loose cotton draped over his forearms. He slowly edged the material up with his teeth and tongue until he finagled his head beneath my sweatshirt, a solid lump above my tummy.

  The tip of his tongue tapped the stud of my belly button ring briefly. His breath warmed the skin above it before he pressed his lips to the same spot, damp and gentle. Dex touched his tongue to the same place, more of a wet kiss than a lick.

  "Smell so good," he murmured as his hands kneaded my hips, making me arch into him.

  Looking down at him, with his face up my shirt, kissing and licking at me, I didn't think there was anything hotter in the world.

  Dex kissed each side of my ribs with slow, chaste pecks. "Wish I wasn't so tired," he said, tongue tracing a line up my stomach.

  Oh boy.

  That wet, raspy tip stopped right between my breasts. I could see his head turn to the right, brushing a small line on the underside of my breast. His lips latched on to that inside swell, sucking it gently. Holy friggin' crap. He switched his mouth over to the other little globe and did the same.

  I made noises that weren't entirely human as heat bloomed at my core.

  And that's when he pulled his head out from under my shirt, planting one last quick kiss on my piercing. "Gotta shower, babe."

  I choked. Was he serious?

  My expression must have conveyed the what-the-friggin'-hell look on my face because he smothered a laugh by pressing his lips to my now-clothed hip. "I'm so damn tired. You don't need to stay up if you don't wanna," he said, coming to stand with his hands still beneath my shirt.

  Dex flashed me another tired grin, kissing the top of my head right before he side-stepped me with a smack to my ass.

  "Get some sleep," he said as if that was even an option when it felt like Niagara Falls was between my legs.

  By the time I realized that he wasn't kidding, leaving me there standing like a complete moron, he'd already turned on the shower.

  That dick.

  I climbed into bed trying my best not to think about Dex's pleasured face the night before—all loose and relaxed with happiness mixed in there. Which then got me not thinking of how he'd looked days before that with his mouth...

  Stop it.

  The bed was surprisingly a lot more comfortable than my bed at Sonny's, and definitely way more than Dex's couch. I wasn't surprised when I fell asleep almost immediately after putting my head on the pillow.

  And it felt like I'd barely done that when I was rolled onto my stomach, my cheek against the sheets. Warm lips and cool air tickled my spine. Two sets of fingers swept over my shoulder blades, down the twin sections of my back.

  I was still half asleep as his forearm slipped between my belly and the mattress. His mouth traced over the notches of my spine. Warmth curled from the nape of my neck down to my tail bone, and instinctively, I arched my back like a cat into his touch.

  Blinking sleepily, I noticed it was pitch black in the room. We must have only been asleep for a few hours at the most. The only noise came from the low hum of the air conditioner against the wall and the creaking of the bed under Dex's shifting weight as he inched his way down the mattress, arm still locked around me.

  "Not tired anymore?" I whispered the question in a hoarse voice.

  His low chuckle filled the room, tongue swirling a circle at the lowest point of my back. "All I needed was a little nap," he breathed right before nipping my butt cheek.

  Oh man.

  I may have stretched into a deeper arch, which earned me another nip on the other cheek.

  Dex's free hand cupped my bottom, his long fingers spanning from the crease to nearly my hip. "This ass..." he groaned, kissing each cheek simultaneously. "Do I gotta thank all that time you spend swimmin' for it or your ma, that you got blessed with it?"

  I wiggled my butt a little. "I don't know."

  There was no warning for the hard crush of his arm hiking my hips up high before the tip of his tongue streaked its way down my cleft, slipping into my slit with a wet thrust.

  Holy crap. Holy times a million craps.

  Dex's flat tongue licked over my seam, once, twice—not enough—careful and controlled when he'd make a quick detour to dip his pointed tongue inside.

  Dead, dead, dead. He was going to kill me with his mouth. And his lips.

  Oh lord, especially his lips when he started sucking gently on the each soft fold.

  Mother. Blooming. Heavenonearth.

  I probably should have been embarrassed by the cries and the moans that wormed their way out of my throat as I tried to push my hips back against him. My cheek was still flat on the mattress, fingers curled into the hotel room's bed sheets, and it must have been the lack of vision that heightened every wet touch, every low little groan he made of approval when he'd slip his tongue where I wanted—needed—something bigger.

  Almost as if he'd read my mind, his hand gave my ass a little squeeze before I choked out a cry in time with the deep press of long fingers inching into my channel, replacing that brutal, raspy tongue. Dex's mouth kissed my cheeks, fingers sinking deep in me. Curling. Moving in and out as I whined into the bed.

  "Perfect, baby. So fuckin' perfect..." I barely heard him pant into the skin of my bottom.

  I was so wet I could feel it. Hear it. The sloppy sounds of his fingers going in and out of me, making me desperate for that tingle that had blossomed in my lower stomach the moment he'd rolled me onto my stomach.

  The speed of his movements doubled then tripled. That burn grew and grew as he kissed and nipped at my cheeks, biting harder and harder the more wet I got. Between the frenzy of his fingers, and that blessed heat radiating off of his body, it was paradise.

  Until he suddenly pulled away.

  I turned to look over my shoulder, not caring at all that I could barely see the outline of his frame in the darkness, but the hot presence of his arm around my waist confirmed he was still there.

  Then, he was there. The fat tip of his cock was suddenly between my lower lips as he dropped his weight down to cover me. Thighs on the outside of mine. Groin over my back. Chest on my back. Dex was a human blanket that slowly pushed his broad, beefy sh
aft into me inch by delicious inch.

  Even now, after barely twenty-four hours, it was the tightest fit. Not painful exactly but there was no way in hell I could ever forget, even after just having that bulbous head in me, that he was there. Filling me. Stretching me. Grinding himself into my cleft once he'd worked that long length in me.

  And holy shit. Holy. Shit.

  I pulsed around him before he even had the chance to withdraw for the first time.

  Dex's mouth came down on the curve of my shoulder and neck, biting down hard, we both groaned for completely different reasons. "Fuck, Ritz," he whispered but there was no power behind it. No real need or desire for me to stop.

 

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