Under Locke

by Zapata, Mariana

  The look on my face was organic what-the-fuck. In a month, I hadn’t had a man approach me at all. You couldn’t really count the men who’d come in that were natural born flirts because those kinds of guys flirted with anyone that could possibly have something shaped like a vagina between their legs. And I didn’t think Trip counted either. With experience, you learn to smile and shrug off the winks and the flirts. This was exactly what I’d done. What I’d been through in front of a wordless Dex many times. And now he was going to intervene?

  Maybe it was a little immature, but I ground my teeth together and attempted not to stomp my way toward his office. I didn’t need to turn around to know that he was following after me. Unfortunately, I’d developed this sixth sense of being too aware of him. I kind of thought it was because of how often we rode on his bike together. Kind of like how some women start menstruating around the same time when they were around each other often. It wouldn’t surprise me if Charles Dexter Locke had been able to throw my hormones out of whack.

  If anyone could, it would be him.

  Dex who I’d quickly learn to gravitate around. The Dex who woke me up every day. The same one that every morning made our coffee and poured my orange juice while I made breakfast. Dex who sat at night with me, watching Firefly while we folded our laundry on the sofa. Dex Locke who wished me goodnight before we went to bed.

  When exactly I’d started looking forward to spending time with him, I had no idea. When I started eating up those little smiles at Pins and those little secrets we shared… I have no idea either. But I had. I'd grown to accept the fact that I had a massive attraction to someone who might not be capable of liking me in return.

  At that moment though, I forgot all about that. The Dick had just cockblocked me.

  He closed his office door and leaned against it, palms flat on the wood behind him. Dex’s eyes were strangely tight above his flex jawed. He looked mad or annoyed, or maybe a little of both as he stared at me in silence.

  “You didn't have to do that.” I told him after a minute, trying to ebb away my own annoyance with him for blocking something I would have done on my own in a classier and less embarrassing way.

  He looked at the ceiling, discarding my question. His fingers started tapping on the door. "Do what?" he asked sharply.

  "You know what." I rolled my eyes. "You told me to stay here and work for you, and then you're going to threaten my job in front of everyone just because some guy asked me out?"

  Dex licked his bottom lip but didn't say anything. His silence was a big, fat yeah that had me stomping right up to him.

  "Are you kidding me?" This guy was out of his friggin' mind.

  "No, Ritz. I'm not fuckin' kiddin' you."

  My head was going to start hurting in like ten seconds. "Dex, I don't see why that's any of your business. You already tell me what to do half the time, and I know you're stuck with me staying at your place until this mess with my dad gets straightened out—but my dating life has nothing to do with you, okay?"

  "Yeah, it does, Ritz," he gritted out.

  "No, it doesn't, Charlie." I poked him right between his pecs twice.

  "Yeah. It. Does."

  It suddenly made complete sense to me that he was the youngest child in his family. He must have never been told "no" in his life. At least not often enough. "I'm pretty sure you're in no place to tell me who I can and can't date." I looked him right in the eye. "Charlie." Pushing him was more than likely a terrible idea but I was too far gone to care.

  He narrowed those brilliant eyes. "Why's that?"

  "Because I'm not a kid." Then, the stupidity just popped right out from my mouth. "And you've probably slept with half a dozen people since I met you, so trust me. You're not in a position to try and give me advice on who I talk to."

  His face changed as he leaned into me. "I know you're not a fuckin' kid. And I can tell you who you can and can't talk to." He took a nice long swallow, and I didn't realize until right then that his hands were fisted at his sides. His entire body was tense. "And you can't fuckin' talk to anybody that wants to put their hands down your goddamn pants."

  "What?" Oh lord. Oh dear, heavenly lord. "Why are you being like this?”

  “‘Cuz. I. Don’t. Fuckin’. Like. It.”

  God, grant me strength. “Dex, I don’t mean to sound like a complete bitch but...I don’t care if you don’t like it. He was asking me out on a date, you stubborn idiot. That doesn't mean he's planning on—"

  Nostrils flared. “Don’t finish that sentence, baby. I’m about this fuckin’ close to losin’ it.” He reached up to rub his fingertips along the sides of his mouth, shaking his head with a gruff groan.

  I curled my lips behind my teeth and lifted both shoulders. “I’m not trying to piss you off. Honestly, I just really don’t understand why you’re being like this with me. I thought you didn’t mind me working for you.”

  Something changed in his expression that I couldn’t pinpoint in the seconds before he dropped his hand from his mouth. Dex’s blink was slow and thorough as his jaw ticked. “I thought I had more time...”

  He didn't finish his rant because he was suddenly in my face, breathing out of his nose hard, his body taut.

  Two big hands cupped my jaw the instant before his mouth with its deep pink, full lips and day old scruff, descended on me in a hard kiss—all ownership and demand.

  Ohmigod.

  Once. Twice. His grip on my face was unrelenting even as he pulled his mouth back a square inch then kissed me even harder, pressing and molding possessive lips to me. His tongue shoved its velvet, hot length against mine with a need and intent I couldn't comprehend.

  Never in my life, even if I happened to kiss a hundred other people after this, would anything feel like Dex’s long, strong fingers cradling my jaw, his teeth nipping my bottom lip.

  I shouldn’t have just stood there. I also definitely shouldn’t have opened my mouth for him, or met him halfway with my own tongue but when someone who looks like Dex—tall, strong, not exactly always on the right side of moral issues, and talented with his mouth—kisses you, you don’t say no. I understood at that point why so many women had fallen prey to him but this was so carnal, it didn't feel natural. When someone like Dex makes a noise into your mouth when you slid your tongue against his in a friendly gesture while simultaneously shoving your breasts against his hard chest, you do it again.

  Even if you don't really know what you're doing. You just go with it. You move your tongue in a way that only your body understands. You arch your back because that's what feels right in the moment.

  You don’t question it. You take advantage of that one moment of insanity that you let yourself live for just a taste of something and someone like Dex The Dick Locke.

  He kissed me ruthlessly. His right hand shifted from its spot on my cheek, down my neck before ending up on the opposite shoulder.

  And I let him because his lips were firm, his tongue was good and his mouth tasted faintly like the chocolate milk he’d drank earlier and the smoke he had when we'd opened up the shop hours before. The rock solid chest smashed against mine might have also been a reason why I didn’t even think about shifting away.

  It wasn’t until his other hand, the one left on my face, started its descent down my neck and grazed over my collarbone, over the side of my breast that I realized what the heck was going on.

  Dex The Dick. Dex The Kind Grump was shoving his tongue down my throat. My boss. Dex. Charlie. The guy who signed my paychecks.

  I pulled away from him so abruptly, I’m sure it was the only reason why he let me go. He hadn’t been expecting me to back away from him out of the blue like that. It was also because he wasn’t waiting for me to pull away that I had a chance to take in the flushed look on his face, the heavy set of his eyes. And the massive pipe lining his jeans.

  God.

  I should have just stayed where I was, but then I’d regret it for sure.

  "Holy crap," I gasped out.


  His mouth was just slightly parted, and he almost looked a little... dazed. "Shit." Dex thrust both hands through the mess of black hair that just barely swept over his forehead. "Shit, Ritz."

  And, cue the awful feeling that crept into the pit of my stomach.

  I didn't want to hear him say something about how much of a mistake our kiss had been, because while it was true, I just didn't want to hear it from his mouth. I couldn't handle the rejection.

  So I did the only thing I thought could save both of our minds at that moment. I backed out of the office and closed the door behind me.

  Slim wheeled his chair over to my section the moment I'd planted my butt on my own, curling my lips behind my teeth in hopes that they'd stopped tingling.

  I had a feeling they wouldn't, but a girl could dream.

  "You look—," he ran his eyes over my face slowly, "weird."

  I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. If I looked at him dead on, I'd probably turn red or blurt out what had just happened. That was a terrible idea. So I settled for a soft, "Huh."

  Slim made a humming noise in his throat, still looking at me a little too closely. "Anything you want to tell me?"

  See what I mean? Nosey. Nosey with a capital letter. "Nope."

  "Hmm," he hummed again before sitting back in the chair. "We all knew it was going to happen. I'm just kind of surprised it took so long." Slim spun in a circle. "And I'm surprised you don't want to tell me."

  "Tell you what?" I asked him carefully. These guys were piranhas for information.

  He smiled all slick and casual, spinning in a circle again. "You know what."

  "No, I don't, Slim."

  He cocked an eyebrow. "Yeah, you do, Ris." That slick smile widened. "He's pissing all over you." He shrugged. "It was about time."

  Things went from bad to worse when Blake piped in from behind the divider. "Boy's probably got blue balls by now."

  Cue my choke.

  “I’m going to poison you both,” I started to threaten them.

  Luckily—maybe not so luckily—the door to the shop opened before I could finish the growing list of things I was planning on doing to my friends slash coworkers and a man stepped in. It was Dex's next appointment.

  Shit.

  He must have been looking at the camera in his office because the office door slammed shut not even three seconds after I greeted the man. The music wasn't on yet, so I could hear Dex's heavy footfalls on the tile. Then, I heard him greet his client and point him in the direction of the bathroom so they could start their session afterward.

  I kept my eyes trained on the computer in front of me, trying so friggin' hard not to gulp and bring attention to myself when I was confused beyond belief at what Slim had just said and what happened in the office. I mean, I knew Dex cared about me. But... what the hell was that?

  You're an idiot, Iris. Of course I was. The second after I asked myself that, I remembered his face at the lake. His face and his touches in half a dozen other circumstances that I didn't understand completely.

  I didn't get a chance to think about it anymore because I saw that black-shirted blur move toward me the moment his customer was out of view. He didn't kneel down like he had the day before when he gave me the community college catalog but instead bent over at the waist, his bottom lip so close I could feel it on my earlobe.

  "You and me are gonna have a talk later, Ritz,” he warned.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  "I'm really thinking that those douchers won't do anything to me if I stay at your house," I argued with Sonny as I shifted my leg under me on the bumpy couch at Mayhem.

  The television was on in the background, and I could hear the sound of an audience laughing even as he sighed. "Not happening, kid."

  "It'll be fine." I wasn't above begging. Especially when my lips still tingled from Dex's mouth. Hours later. Pathetic. "I'll lock the doors and everything."

  The son of a gun didn't even bother thinking about the suggestion. "No."

  "Sonny." I also wasn't above whining a little. I figured it was fine. I'd never whined much as a kid, I could get away with it as an adult.

  "Ris, we haven't found him. Do you know what that tells me? That he's in deeper shit than we know. If it was just the Reapers he owed money to, he wouldn't be going through so much trouble to hide from everyone," he explained. He sounded so tired, I immediately felt bad for stressing him out with my stupid begging.

  Because he had a point. Why would he be hiding so well? Why had he borrowed so much money to begin with? Plus, there was no reason for me to freak out over the incident at Pins. None.

  Dex probably kissed people on a daily basis.

  The thought should have been reassuring but all it did was make my stomach hurt—a lot.

  I pushed the thought back and tried to focus on Sonny again. "You don't know who?" I asked.

  He sighed. "I don't think I want to know. This shit has turned into such a goddamn headache. I'm worried Trip might kill me before we find him."

  I wanted to tell him to come back home. That I'd give him the money I had in my account to pay off a small chunk of the debt The Disappointment owed, but I couldn't. I couldn't because the first thing I thought of now every time our dad popped into my head, was what he'd done. The kid he'd had. The way he just plain sucked.

  That small part of me that craved blood wanted him to own up to his mess for the first time in his life, so I kept my mouth shut. I only wished that there was something more I could do to find our sperm donor.

  "I'm sorry," I told him because it was the only thing I could say that wouldn't bring him down any more.

  "It's fine, kid. I'd do this and worse for you," he said in a slightly more upbeat voice. He was probably trying not to give me a guilt trip for being a useless bag of bones. "I met the kid."

  Words, language, and the alphabet all melted off my tongue for a split second. "You—did?"

  "Yeah. We went back two days ago," Sonny explained.

  My little sister. Or little brother. God, I still couldn't fathom having someone else in my life that I could care about the way I felt for Will or Sonny. Not that it would be the same, because even though Sonny and I had grown up in different states, I'd always known him. Always known about him.

  And this kid...

  "Is it a girl?"

  His snicker answered my question. "Nope. He's a little guy."

  Another boy. Good gravy.

  "Whoa," I breathed out. "Did it go okay?"

  "Yeah, but he was confused. I'm old enough to be his dad, you know. His dad is old enough to be his grandpa." The longer Sonny talked, the more pissed off he sounded. "This is so fucked up, Ris. Terry—that's the kid's mom—said he hasn't been by in like two years. Two fucking years, Ris. Can you believe that shit?"

  And two years would eventually turn into three. Three into four. Four into five, and before the little boy would know it, it'd be half his life.

  Jesus, I was depressing. And negative.

  "I think I'd be more surprised if he'd stuck around." A thought nagged at me. "Do you ever want to have kids?"

  He let out a sharp laugh. "That's random."

  "Well?"

  He hummed. "I guess I haven't thought about it. No?" he asked me, the baboon.

  "No?"

  "Maybe." Sonny paused. "I don't know. I'd be a shitty dad right now, I know that much."

  What an idiot. "Son, you'd be as far from a shitty dad as possible."

  He made a disapproving noise.

  "Shut up. You'd be great, trust me." I had to laugh at a mental picture of him cleaning a diaper. "I think I want a little niece. How about you make it happen?"

  "Fuck that," he laughed. "No, Ris. I'll get a dog, but a kid? No way."

  "Party pooper."

  Sonny laughed again. "Whatever." I could hear Trip talking over the other end of the line. "Are you at Dex's?"

  "Nope, I'm at the bar waiting for him."

  Ugh. This was even a
fter I expressed to him how much I didn’t want to go to Mayhem after he’d embarrassed me in front of the MC men a few days ago.

  There was more of Trip's voice on the other end of the line. "You know why no one's answering the phone then?"

  That. The reason why Dex had brought us over to Mayhem instead of going back to his place. "They caught the bartender that's been stealing from the Club," I relayed the information Dex had told me before we'd left Pins.

  Sonny huffed on the other end of the receiver, repeating what I said to his friend. "Who did it?"

  "I think I heard them call him Rocco before they took him upstairs."