Grave Diggers MC: Solo

by Lynne, Carol

  “Rowdy’s gay, too?” Eric asked.

  Solo chuckled. “No. Rowdy’s a sick fuck who likes to see a woman get drilled in both ends.”

  Eric sipped his beer and thought about Solo’s explanation. “So, when you were watching Rowdy fuck this girl, you realized you were gay?”

  Solo stared down at Eric. “Why the hell do you need to know this?”

  “Curious, I guess. I knew when I was in high school,” Eric replied. “A guy on the football team popped my cherry. I just find it interesting that you were an adult before you figured it out.”

  “I didn’t say that.” Solo finished his beer. “Growing up, I spent a lot of time in juvie. Teenage boys think of nothing but sex, so we fucked each other. I thought I enjoyed it because that’s all I had. I did a short stint in county lock-up after I turned eighteen, and the same happened there, but it wasn’t until I had both a pussy and a cock in front of me that I figured out which one I preferred.”

  “Wow. Did that freak Rowdy out?” Eric handed Solo his beer. “You can have the rest of that if you want.”

  “Rowdy doesn’t freak out about much. He still has me go back to his room with him and whatever woman he’s fucking at the time, but it’s more for show. I usually end up sitting in the corner acting like I’m getting my rocks off while he fucks her. It’s enough to throw the other brothers off.”

  “But you and Rowdy have never…” Eric didn’t finish the question.

  “No.” Solo grinned and reached down to wrap his hand around Eric’s cock. “Jealous?”

  “No!” Eric shot back. “I told you, I’m curious.”

  “I’m done talking.” Solo drained Eric’s bottle of beer before setting it on the nightstand. He opened the drawer and removed lube and a strip of condoms. “We gonna fuck?”

  One thing was clear. Eric would not get subtlety or romance from Solo. The sexy biker was blunt to the core, but he couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to the man. He moved down to lay his head on the borrowed pillow. Spreading his legs, he realized he didn’t mind Solo’s lack of social graces. Solo’s hard edge made him who he was. Eric doubted there would ever be a dull moment with Solo. He stared up at Solo who hadn’t moved. “Well?” he prompted.

  “Are you always this easy?” Solo asked, moving to stretch out beside Eric.

  “Only when I wanna be.” Eric reached for Solo’s cock. “And with you, I want to be.”

  Solo started to lean in for a kiss but stopped himself before reaching Eric’s lips. “I almost forgot about your cut. We’ll have to stick to fucking tonight.”

  Eric nodded. He’d been with quite a few men who didn’t get into kissing, but Solo seemed to love it, and he was damn good at it. “I’ll suffer until I heal.”

  Solo poured lube onto his fingers before moving to brush them over Eric’s hole.

  Moaning, Eric tucked his legs under his torso, opening himself further to Solo’s touch. He rested his cheek on his hands and closed his eyes as Solo’s finger slowly pushed inside. “Fuck,” he groaned.

  “I thought about knocking on your door for more of this,” Solo admitted. “I fucking love your ass.”

  Pleased with the compliment, Eric smiled to himself. He still didn’t know how things could work between them for anything beyond fucking, but, for now, fucking was enough. “Funny, because I’m rather fond of your fingers.”

  Solo grunted and removed his fingers. He reached for a condom on the bedside table. “I’d rather you felt that way about my dick.”

  “Give it to me, and I’ll consider it,” Eric replied, issuing a challenge he knew he’d pay for. Fortunately, he’d pay in the best way possible.

  “Oh, you’ll do more than consider it,” Solo groused, slapping Eric’s ass.

  Eric jumped at the smack. He wasn’t into being beaten by a lover, but found the slight sting on his butt cheek felt rather pleasing. Fuck. He didn’t know what Solo was doing to him, but he doubted he’d be the same after spending time with the sexy biker. He reached back and rubbed his ass, finding the skin warm. “That wasn’t nice,” he reprimanded.

  Solo dripped lube down the crack of Eric’s ass before rubbing his sheathed cock up and down the crevice. “You’re not here because I’m nice.”

  True, but Eric didn’t verbally agree. He glanced back at Solo, watching the concentration on his face as the thick cock pressed inside of him. The stretch was just as he remembered. The one night they’d spent together hadn’t been enough, and he’d kicked himself afterward for not taking note of Solo’s license plate. Although he tried to stick to the law, he wasn’t above looking someone up in their system, but he’d worried their interlude hadn’t been as good for Solo as it had been for him.

  His cock fully buried inside of Eric, Solo leaned over Eric’s back to place a kiss on his neck. “Ribs okay? I know Rowdy packs a punch.”

  “I’m fine,” Eric shot back. He didn’t like being reminded of the fight earlier. His fighting skills had always been something he’d taken pride in, but, damn, Rowdy’s fists had felt like they’d been filled with cement.

  “Good.” Solo gripped Eric’s hips and began to move in and out of him.

  Eric’s mouth opened as he struggled to breathe. Fuck. Solo’s thrusts had gone from zero to sixty in a heartbeat. The big biker may not be much of a conversationalist, but, Christ, could the man fuck. “Yeah,” he encouraged once he’d caught his breath. He rocked back in counter to Solo’s surges, needing everything he could get. When Solo reached under him and wrapped his hand around Eric’s cock, he swore he could feel every hair on his body stand on end.

  “Fuck! I’m coming,” Eric cried out.

  Several loud grunts sounded in Eric’s ear before Solo whispered. “You’re squeezing my dick off, Blue.”

  Blue. Hell, if Eric hadn’t already come, he’d have done it with the whisper of the nickname. It was a lot better than cop.

  Several thrusts later, Solo howled his release before collapsing on top of Eric. Easing them both down to the mattress, Eric couldn’t help but grin. It was a good thing Rowdy hadn’t cracked one of his ribs or it would be broken with Solo’s weight on top of him. He sighed contentedly as his eyes drifted shut, but before he could drop off to sleep, Solo pulled away with a groan.

  “I’ll take you back to your car whenever you’re ready,” Solo said before leaving the room.

  Eric rolled over and stared up at the water-stained ceiling. What the fuck? When Solo walked back into the room, Eric cleared his throat. “Is this the way of it then?”

  “What?” Solo asked, tossing Eric’s clothes and shoes onto the bed.

  “Well, when you lit out of my place the way you did, I tried to tell myself it was because it was just a one-time thing, but I thought we’d agreed to see each other until we catch whoever’s selling the tainted shit to kids,” Eric explained.

  “Yeah,” Solo answered. He pulled his jeans on without bothering with underwear. “You can’t stay the night.”

  “Why?”

  Solo glanced at Eric and sighed. “I’m not sure you understand how dangerous it could be if the club finds out I’m fucking a cop.” He pulled his T-shirt over his head. “There’ll be no going out on dates. It’ll be fucking behind a locked door for a few hours.” Solo sat on the edge of the bed and reached for his boots. “You accept that, and we’re good.”

  “It would be safer if we did it at my place,” Eric offered. “Then maybe you could at least stay in bed long enough for my cum to dry on the sheet.” Truthfully, he didn’t feel comfortable at Solo’s even without the threat of being found out. It wasn’t the trailer itself that bothered him, it was the lie perpetuated within. The naked posters and calendar, the complete lack of anything personal on the tables or walls. He didn’t know a lot about Solo, but there was no way in hell the man was a blank slate. In bed, Solo was incredibly passionate, but there had to be more to him than that.

  “I’d rather be here.” Solo reached for his other boot. “Your house
gives me the creeps.”

  Shocked, Eric sat up. He’d worked damn hard to rehab his home. He’d put years into the place, going to estate sales to help furnish the rooms on a budget. “You’re calling my house creepy?”

  “It’s too perfect, like a damn TV show. No one really lives like that.”

  Eric climbed off the bed. His house wasn’t perfect. It was nice, but far from a TV show. He grabbed his jeans and underwear.

  “I wasn’t trying to piss you off.” Solo was fully dressed and standing with his legs slightly apart and his arms crossed over his chest. “We could do the hotel thing.”

  “No!” Eric snapped. “I have a nice house. I’ve worked damn hard on that house,” he spat.

  “Let me guess, your place looks just like the house you grew up in? Your dad’s probably some kind of IT geek and your mom stays home and bakes pies and shit.”

  Angrier than ever, Eric stalked over to Solo and stared him in the eyes. “Wrong, asshole. I grew up in a series of foster homes. I don’t even know who my dad is, and my mom liked selling her pussy more than her own son.” He shoved his feet into his shoes. “Fuck you for making me question something I’ve worked so hard to get. And, maybe you’re right. Maybe my place is something you’d see only on TV, but it makes me feel like I have a home for the first time in my life.”

  So upset he couldn’t see straight, Eric shoved by Solo and walked toward the front of the trailer. “I’ll find my own way back to the school.” He unlocked the front door and was gone without a single word from Solo.

  Eric made it out of the trailer park before he heard the deep rumble of Solo’s Nova coming up behind him. He didn’t bother turning around. With a few flippant words, Solo had tainted something precious to him. What the hell was he supposed to do when they caught the dealer and Solo walked out of his life for good? Fuck!

  Solo pulled up next to Eric and motioned for him to get in.

  Eric shook his head and kept walking.

  With a roar of the engine, Solo drove up several yards before slamming on the brakes and opening the driver’s side door. “Get in the goddamn car, Blue.”

  The nickname made Eric pause. “Fine,” he growled. He slid in before slamming the passenger door shut.

  Solo climbed back in. “Never start something with me unless you’re gonna stick around long enough to finish it.” He took off toward the school. They drove in silence for several minutes before Solo spoke, “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  “Well, you did.” Eric continued to stare out the passenger window.

  “Funny thing is, our pasts are a lot alike. I didn’t grow up with a dad either. He got into some kind of trouble and the cops started sniffing around. Next thing I knew, he was gone, leaving me with my drunk of a mother. Hell, she didn’t even stop drinking during her pregnancy if that tells you anything. My place is a palace compared to the apartment I grew up in, so I can understand wanting something more.”

  Eric glanced at Solo, wondering if he’d say anything else.

  “Your house reminds me of everything I didn’t get as a kid. Just a sore spot, I guess,” Solo added. “The club tried to take up my dad’s slack, but even they couldn’t get my mom to put down the bottle.”

  “Your dad was a member of the Grave Diggers?” Eric crossed his arms over his chest before he did something stupid like reaching out to Solo.

  “Yeah. Switch, our Prez knows where he is, but he’s not talking. My dad didn’t even care enough to come back for my little sister’s funeral.” Solo reached up and yanked at a handful of his own hair. “I joined the club hoping I’d eventually get answers as to where he is and why he left, but I’ve learned absolutely nothing.”

  “So why stay?” Eric asked.

  “Where else would I go? The club’s the only family I have.”

  Eric wasn’t sure what to say, so didn’t say anything. They rode the rest of the way in silence until Solo pulled up next to Eric’s black Honda Accord. Before getting out of the Nova, he reached over and put a hand on Solo’s arm. He wasn’t ready to forgive and forget, but there were more important things they needed to deal with. “Are we still working together?”

  Solo grabbed the back of Eric’s neck and pulled him close enough to place a soft kiss on Eric’s split lip. “Only if you’ll let me give your house another try. Who knows, maybe I’ll see it differently next time.”

  “I’ll think about it.” Eric pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and held it up. “Can I at least get your number in case I have a lead I need you to check out?”

  “Yeah, but put it in under Sam, that’s my given name,” Solo said before rattling off his number.

  “I like the name Sam.” Eric added Solo to his contacts.

  “Might be a nice name, but it’s not me.” Solo tapped the buttons on his phone. “I’m putting you in as Blue.” He glanced at Eric. “If anyone but me or Rowdy answers, hang up.”

  Eric hated the lie but knew it was necessary. “Okay.” He gave Solo his number. Armed with a way to get in touch with him, Eric ran his thumb over Solo’s lips before climbing out of the car. He’d always been a terrible liar.

  Chapter Three

  With Rowdy at his side, Solo pounded his fist against Stevie Boy’s door. “Open up.” When no one answered, Solo pounded again.

  Rowdy chuckled. “He may still be bedridden after that beating you gave him.”

  “You’re right.” Stepping back, Solo used his heavy boot to kick in the dealer’s door. Thankfully, Stevie lived in a shithole, otherwise the door wouldn’t have opened so easily. He stepped inside. “Stevie!”

  “What?” a croak came from an adjoining room.

  Solo moved to the bedroom and leaned his shoulder against the doorframe. Damn. Poor Stevie didn’t look good. “You dying?”

  “Fuck you,” Stevie said, despite the cuts and bruises marring his face.

  “Who’s dealing at Turner now?” Solo asked.

  “How the hell should I know? I’ve been in this bed since last week,” Stevie shot back.

  From the smells of body odor, cum and cigarettes filling his nostrils, Solo didn’t doubt what the dealer said, but that didn’t help him. “Give me a guess,” he ordered.

  Stevie shook his head, wincing as he did so. “What’re they selling?”

  “Weed dusted with meth.” Solo glanced around the room. Not only was the apartment a dump but filthy as well. Evidently, dealing wasn’t as lucrative for Stevie as Solo had first thought. Either that, or Stevie was using his own shit. He inhaled again. Yeah, definitely using. He didn’t say anything about the boy in the hospital. If Stevie knew the cops were involved, he’d clam up tighter than a virgin in church.

  Stevie blew out a loud breath. “Could be a couple guys I know. What’s the information worth?”

  Solo stepped into the room and moved to tower over Stevie. “Your life.”

  Stevie broke eye contact and glanced toward the door where Rowdy was no doubt standing. “They’ll kill me if they know I talked.”

  “Well then, you have a choice. Die now or take your chances later,” Rowdy said.

  “Fuck, guys.” Stevie scowled.

  “Names,” Solo prompted.

  “Could be Marco from the Devils, Easy Ed or one of your own,” Stevie eventually replied.

  “What the fuck’re you saying? Grave Diggers don’t sell,” Solo argued, hands curling into fists.

  Stevie held his hands in front of his face. “Roach. He’s been dealing for extra cash. He’s not a big player or anything, but I know he likes the money from dusting, same with the others.”

  Solo leaned over and put his finger in Stevie’s face. “You tell anyone we were here and you’ll be dead within the hour.” He turned and headed toward the door.

  “Hey, what about my door?” Stevie Boy screamed after them.

  “Call a contractor,” Rowdy yelled back as they left the apartment.

  Settling on his bike, Solo glanced at his best friend. “What do you thi
nk about Roach? You think Stevie’s telling the truth?”

  Rowdy fired up his Harley. “Only one way to find out.”

  “Yeah,” Solo agreed. Although it wasn’t uncommon for fights to break out in the club, it was frowned upon if not for a good reason. Solo couldn’t think of a better reason than keeping drugs out of the hands of kids.

  * * * *

  “What’d you find out?” Captain Wallace asked when Eric arrived at the station. “And what the fuck happened to you?”

  “How’s the kid?” Eric yawned as he stashed his lunch in his bottom desk drawer. It had been a long night of lying awake with thoughts of Solo plaguing him. The way they’d left things between them, he wasn’t at all sure he’d even see Solo again.

  “Better. They’re planning to move Andy to a private room sometime today.”

  “That’s good, right? He’ll be able to tell us who sold him the drugs.” Although Eric was happy they’d get the dealer off the streets, it didn’t bode well for a continued relationship with Solo.

  The captain motioned Eric into his office. “I need to speak to you.”

  Shit. Wallace only wanted to see one of them in his private office when he was preparing to chew someone’s ass. Eric closed his drawer and stared longingly at the Starbucks coffee on his desk. It wasn’t often he indulged in the expensive brew, but he’d needed a few shots of espresso after the night he’d had. Unfortunately, Wallace would kill him if he took it in with him. With a sigh of resignation, he left the caffeine behind and entered the captain’s office. “What’s up?”

  Wallace shut the door before taking his chair behind the messy desk. “Andy Sparks isn’t talking. No matter what we threaten him with, he’s not giving up the name of the dealer, so our orders are to stand down on that front.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense. The kid could’ve died. Surely he wants someone to pay for that.” Eric would never understand the unwillingness of some victims to name their attackers. It was the same with some domestic abuse victims. He simply didn’t get it.