Leather & Lace

by J. A. Fredericks

  “Let me get that, darlin,’” Colt says, reaching for the door handle. When his arm brushes against me, even though there are two layers of leather separating our skin, I hold back a whimper. He grins down on me with a knowing glint behind his eyes. “Better step back. Wouldn’t want you to get drool on that smokin’ hot body of yours.”

  My feet shuffle forward into the building, but every other part of me wants to turn around and slug him for saying that. I hear Ranger’s dark chuckles as they move in behind me.

  There’s too much chaos for my presence to be outwardly noticed, though my father’s two closest buddies aside from Remmy immediately catch sight of me from a couch and scramble to their feet, charging at me with similar cock-eyed grins.

  “Fuckin’ hell!” Fug roars, wrapping me in his thick arms. “Sweetheart, it’s so damn good to see you again!”

  The familiar combined stench of sweat, booze, and pot takes me back to the days when I’d sit on his lap while we watched little kid movies in Remmy’s office. Fug served with my father in Desert Storm, though he was honorably discharged from their tour a few months early for mental health reasons. I still don’t know that he’s right in the head after all these years.

  He’s just as solid as I remember him, maybe even a little thicker, and his dark brown hair and long beard have both become salt and peppered with age. By the time I return the hug, I feel him shuddering beneath me with small sobs. “I miss him somethin’ awful, Harley.”

  “I know,” is all I say, because I’ve held it in this long and I’m not about to let go in a room filled with strangers. Seeing Fug cry is nothing new, especially after he’s been smoking, so it’s fairly easy to ignore the cloud of sadness hanging over him. “He loved you, Fug.”

  “Don’t be hoggin’ her,” Thunder growls, prying the weeping giant off me to take his turn.

  My first memories of Thunder are of a young prospect who was bright eyed and bushy-tailed, not much to look at. But time has been good to him and he’s bulked considerably with touchable, wavy black hair. When he backs away, I can see his distant Japanese ancestry in the roundness of his pale blue eyes that makes for a stunning combination. “Ya grew up real good, kid.” With a stark laugh, he kisses my cheek.

  “You’re looking pretty darn good yourself,” I say, hooking my arm through his. As great as it feels to be welcomed by the two older members, I suddenly become nervous as the place is packed with an abundance of MC members and club whores that don’t look the slightest bit familiar. It seems a lot of members closer to my age have joined since the days I was around. Kandi and the old ladies I met are nowhere in sight and neither is Remmy.

  “He’s out back,” Thunder says quietly, squeezing my arm. “Just give ‘im time. He’ll come around. You know he loves you, kid. He’s just hurtin’ since you weren’t here for the funeral.”

  “I couldn’t do it,” I say, shaking my head and looking away. “I had my reasons.”

  Thunder pats my hand. “I know.”

  Colt is suddenly at my side, surrounding me in a dizzying cloud of his tantalizing scent. When his hand presses to my lower back, I hiss between my teeth. “You ready for introductions, darlin,’ or you want a drink first?”

  “Drink,” I say, exhaling deeply as I subtly move away from his touch. He heads for the bar and I trail behind, thankful Ranger backed off to flirt with one of the club whores. If both guys were to escort me all night, I’d be too tempted to bail. Having Colt near, however, gives me the kind of comfort I haven’t felt in…well…forever. It’s definitely not anything I felt with the dirt-bag boyfriend who mooched off my inheritance for five months, then dumped me while I was in prison.

  “Harley!” a high-pitch voice calls above the noise of the crowd. There’s no time to brace myself before I’m tackled from behind.

  “What the fuck?” I bark, pulling the arm off me to spin around.

  Cheyenne, Thunder’s new girlfriend who I met at lunch, beams up at me like we’re the oldest of friends and didn’t just meet hours ago. She was the most talkative of the crew and radiates a bundle of unstoppable energy the way she’s constantly in motion, talking with her hands and changing her expression every few seconds.

  So small I swear I could fit her in my pocket, Cheyenne is every bit as gorgeous as she is boisterous. Bleached, white-blond hair bounces in spiral curls past boobs too big to be real on her tiny frame and too perky to stay tucked inside her low-cut top. With a petite, sweetheart face and warm brown eyes, she could be mistaken for a teenager even though she was doing shots with us at lunch and she holds a beer in hand now. Something about her reminds me of myself when I was fresh out of high school, though it’s definitely not the outgoing personality.

  If I didn’t know she was somewhat committed to Thunder, I’d be burning with jealousy when she stands on her tip-toes to press a kiss to Colt’s cheek. “Hey, baby,” she greets him with a dazzling smile. “You found yourself a real sexy one. I like her too. Don’t fuck it up or I’ll be first in line to kick your ass.”

  Colt's eyes roll onto me, filled with amusement and interest.

  “He didn’t find me,” I correct her with a roll of my eyes. “I came back because this club is the only family I have left.”

  Laughing in a high squealing noise, Cheyenne slips her arm through mine. “Well consider it a bonus that you landed this one then, because you’re the first to accomplish the feat.” I open my mouth to correct her again, but she cuts me off before I can speak. “Let’s get you something to drink. The girls are lookin’ for you.”

  As she pulls me away from Colt, he’s laughing with a bright spark in his eyes. Angry that everyone just assumes I’m here to become someone’s old lady, I flip him off behind Cheyenne’s back, which only makes him laugh harder.

  The second I have a beer in hand, Cheyenne pulls me away, going on about all the new recruits in the MC and how lucky I am to hook up with the hottest one because all the club whores have been after him and he won’t give them the time of day. I’m past setting her straight at this point and only nod in understanding as she babbles on.

  “There she is!” Kandi cheers once I’m close.

  I’m met with a round of excited greetings once we join her and the other girls I met from lunch, surrounded by even more old ladies that look to be older than the rest of us. Kandi introduces the three women. Two belong to members I haven’t met and the oldest looking of the three, Ingrid, belongs to Remmy.

  I flinch when Ingrid draws me into her arms. She’s stick skinny, though equipped with huge breasts and thick, blond hair that smells like strawberries that makes her seem bigger regardless. I’d bet my bike she was a stripper in her younger days. “Feels like I’ve been waitin’ forever to meet ya, kid. Hang in there. Rem will come to his senses.”

  I back away, flashing a nervous smile.

  “Told ya you’d fit in,” Kandi teases, patting my arm. Even more stunning than when she took me shopping, Kandi wears a black leather skirt that barely covers her crotch and fishnet stockings with a lacy red tank top that shows off her amazing rack. I imagine Buzz has a deep appreciation for her fashion sense along with the rest of the guys in the MC.

  “So have you kissed the golden boy yet?” Lacey, a girl around my age with salon-red hair, asks with wide eyes. “We’re all dying to know what those lips are like!”

  I bring my hands to rest on my ass, forgetting that my new dress didn’t come with pockets. All at once I remember why as a kid I preferred hanging with my father and the guys over the old ladies. They’re always in each other’s business and way too personal for my comfort level.

  “Jesus, Lacey, don’t ask her that,” Kandi scolds. “Give the poor girl a chance to get to know us for more than a day before making her dish all the details.”

  “What’s his story anyway?” I ask, spotting Colt gathered among a group of younger guys not too far away. They’re all somewhat built and attractive wearing the club logo on leather vests, yet Colt somehow manage
s to outshine them all. “You said he’s only been with the club a year. Where’d he come from? And why does everyone keep calling him ‘the golden boy?’”

  “Seriously? Just look at him,” Cheyenne demands, tilting her head his way. “I mean we have all gorgeous, extremely fuckable men, but with Colt it’s like God put all his best efforts into one single man before spitting him out from heaven.”

  “Those eyes,” one of the younger girls drawls.

  “And that body,” Kandi adds.

  “The way he says darlin’,” Lacey says, swooning. “He’s absolutely perfect.”

  “Yet he’s turned down every girl under forty in this room,” Ingrid tells me, her svelte lips curled in amusement. “He’s unattainable.”

  All the girls turn to appreciate him, a few sighing heavily.

  I clear my throat. It’s ridiculous for me to think there was something between us when we were fucking because he’s apparently God’s gift to all women, and that’s all it was—a good fuck. “What branch of the service was he in?” I didn’t recognize the symbol I’d seen tattooed on his back shoulder and I’m not about to admit I saw him naked.

  “SEALs.” Kandi breathes the word like it’s the hottest thing ever.

  Which it is. Having grown up with a healthy appreciation for those who have served our country, I know it takes a special kind of someone to be a Navy SEAL and I’m dumbfounded that Colt can continue to become hotter since I was so taken by him to begin with.

  “Other than that, we don’t know a whole lot about him,” Kandi continues, frowning. “He lived somewhere up north before he enlisted and doesn’t have any family. Since he became a member of the MC last year, he’s only been with one girl that we know of.”

  “Some skank named Bridget,” Cheyenne interjects. “She can’t seem to get the hint that he’s not interested and keeps hanging on him.”

  I bite down on a laugh. I wouldn’t go so far as to say he’s “not interested.”

  “A real mystery, that one,” Kandi huffs, crossing her arms. “Friendly enough guy, but keeps to himself for the most part. He and Ranger have gotten tight though.”

  As if sensing half a dozen eyes are on him, Colt turns to us. Like magnets drawing us together, his eyes click onto mine and he gives me that youthful smile of his with dimples and all.

  Damn it all to hell, I think I just felt my ovaries combust.

  A bunch of the girls hum in unison.

  “Jesus, he has it bad for you,” Kandi whispers.

  Two girls, I’m assuming club whores by the way they’re hardly dressed with overdone makeup, come bounding into our circle with matching giggles. “Oh my god, you’ll never guess who’s here!” one of them tells Kandi, grabbing onto her arm.

  “Lucky!” the other girl answers, clapping excitedly. “He got outta of the VA early and holy shit, does he look fine!”

  Ingrid blurts, “Oh, shit. Kandi, let’s take Harley outside for a smoke.”

  “Great idea,” Kandi agrees with wide eyes, suddenly pressing her hand to my lower back. “C’mon.”

  Wondering where the sudden weirdness is coming from, I stay rooted in place. “Go ahead, that’s not my thing.” Truth is, I haven’t been able to stand being around cigarette smoke since my father was diagnosed with cancer.

  “Here he comes!” one of the whores sings, jumping up and down. She prances away from us, into the arms of a large biker headed our way. The dark haired man bends to hug the girl before drawing back, wide smile stretched across his lips.

  When his chin tilts upwards, I completely lose my breath.

  I’m staring into the eyes of my long-lost brother.

  7

  Years have passed since I’ve seen a picture of my little brother, but he looks so much like our father it almost hurts. Long, dark hair falls loose around his broad face, highlighting his dark brown eyes and sharp cheek bones. He’s at least a foot taller than the last time I saw him when our mother’s sister brought him to my college for a brief visit, and he’s a mass of solid muscles.

  “Axel?” I whisper, trembling.

  Lips drawn back in a sneer, he shakes his head. “Remmy said you were back, but I didn’t think you’d show your face around here again.”

  The room takes on an uneven slant. He knows Remmy?

  I look down to the club patch sewn onto his vest, shaking my head, refusing to accept the truth. Axel chose to live with our aunt after our mother died because he wanted nothing to do with the MC. Brainwashed his entire life to hate the club after our father walked out on our mother, he made a point not to associate with me after I chose this life.

  So what the actual fuck is he doing here and why does it appear he’s a member?

  Blinding rage courses through my veins. “You’re going to stand there and judge me?” I roar, charging at him with my pointer finger held out. “You’re the one who disrespected this club! You wanted nothing to do with our father because of his ties to the MC! What do you think you’re doing?”

  Axel’s eyes widen when he realizes I’m not backing down. As he stumbles away, a pair of strong arms wrap around my waist, stopping me from beating his ass like I intend. I know without looking that Colt’s the one holding me back.

  “Let me go!” I scream, trying like hell to break free, kicking into the air once I’m lifted off the floor. Axel backs away to avoid my wild feet, almost taking one of the whores with him as he awkwardly falls to the floor.

  By now everyone in the room is staring at me, wondering why I’m acting like a psycho, but I don’t give a shit. How dare my brother act like this is his family?

  “Stop!” Colt commands in my ear. “This ain’t gonna solve anything!”

  I look down to where Axel struggles to get back up, one pant leg pushed up.

  Only instead of there being a leg beneath his pants, there’s a titanium rod.

  Hands covering my mouth, I crumble inside Colt’s arms. Two of the club members hook their arms beneath Axel’s armpits, helping him to stand upright. But the minute he’s on his feet, he violently shrugs them off. “I’ve fucking got it!”

  As he bends to straighten his pant leg, the club whore is back at his side, cooing and doting on him like she’s consoling a little boy who scuffed his knee. After a brief, deadly glare that rattles something inside my chest, Axel wraps his arm around the whore and they turn away. Though barely noticeable, he walks with a limp.

  The baby brother I once doted on has lost a leg.

  As reality sinks in, Colt’s embrace goes from feeling like a safety net to a wet blanket smothering me. “I need air,” I gasp, digging my fingers into his arms still wrapped around my belly. “Get me the fuck outta here!”

  “Okay, darlin,’” Colt whispers, pressing a chaste kiss to the side of my head before tucking me under his arm. As we walk away I avert my gaze to our boots, unable to face the judgmental looks of everyone we pass.

  The night air stings against my damp eyes once we’re out front. Colt doesn’t stop until we’re standing next to his bike. He sets his helmet on my head and snaps the strap beneath my chin. “Get on,” he orders.

  “I’m not riding bitch!” I bark, still in a shocked daze. “I’m no one’s bitch!”

  “Get. On,” he repeats, swinging his leg over the bike just before it purrs to life. He watches me over his shoulder, eyebrows stitched, blue eyes strained with determination. If I don’t get on, who knows what he’ll do, but it’s obvious he’s not going to take no for an answer.

  Huffing, I mount the bike and hold the strap on the seat.

  “Hold on to me,” he growls.

  “You’re a bossy bastard,” I growl back, doing as he commands regardless. “Anyone ever tell you that?”

  Colt releases a dark laugh as he squeezes down on the throttle. I haven’t ridden on the back of another man’s bike since I bought mine. It feels awkward and degrading and…holy shit, Colt smells ridiculously amazing and feels like the best kind of heaven with my body smashed up against hi
m.

  As we pull out of the lot, I rest my head against his back as my emotions build. Remmy’s rejection, my aunt and Axel’s betrayal, losing everyone and everything I ever had, the unfairness of being punished for a crime I didn’t knowingly commit—they bubble up inside of me like a bottle of cheap champagne, though I don't have it in me to let it out.

  My gut wrenches so tightly it’s as painful as my mental anguish. Colt’s body heat provides a false sense of human connection as I grip him until I’m sure he can’t breathe. Soon a large, rough hand is over one of mine, lacing our fingers together.

  God, it’s so wrong that I’m making a connection with this beautiful man, but I’m powerless against these strong feelings. The force draws us together like a locomotive without breaks.

  With his thumb rubbing back and forth against my hand, he coaxes me until I’ve regained control and feel a rush of calm. Having someone comfort me in that way feels so foreign and familiar at the same time that it fills my stomach with warmth. With my chin resting on his shoulder, some of his soft hair blowing in my face, I become mesmerized as the motorcycle’s headlight cuts through the darkness, making a lone path over the flicker of yellow dots on the pavement.

  The familiar sight is tranquil and puts me at peace. Colt continues to rub my hand for a few more miles until we cut over to an exit I haven’t been down in forever. The salty smell of the ocean greets us before it actually comes into view, reminding me of days as a kid when my father would bring me here to play on the beach.

  The dark monstrosity of water comes into view before long. Colt turns off the county road onto a private drive of gravel. The hum of the bike becomes quiet as we slowly roll along, rocks crunching beneath the tires. I lean into Colt once again, inhaling the smell I haven’t known in ages and feeling at total ease.