Blood & Rust (Lock & Key #4)

by Cat Porter

  Butler rose from his seat, his jaw set, and he strode toward me. My fingers flexed at my sides as he snaked his way through the crowd, through the clink of beer bottles and the hooting, shuffling through the peanut shells on the floor, his intense gaze never leaving mine. His agile body prowled toward me, closer and closer. My breathing accelerated. He was the moon, and I was being pulled in his tide. A force of physics.

  Butler stopped in front of me, looming over me. His hand reached out and took mine, and without a word, he yanked me toward the dance floor.

  “Hey—”

  He pulled me into his hard chest.

  Oomph!

  Eric Clapton’s guitar opened “Help Me Up.”

  Shit, a favorite song.

  Our eyes met, and my breath stuttered.

  Cigarette smoke and that fresh forest and crisp citrus scent of his inflamed my senses. His hand splayed across my back and slid down toward my rear, sending a shiver shimmying up my spine.

  “The ex get his reality check?”

  “Uh-huh,” I managed.

  “You seeing Travis?”

  “No.”

  “You like Travis?”

  “He’s very nice. Very good dancer. Certainly not hard on the eyes.”

  Butler’s fingers tightened around my hand, his other hand burning through my waist, as we moved to the driving beat of the music. “Have you fucked him?”

  Shit, that question is very popular tonight!

  He leaned in closer. “Answer me.”

  “No, I haven’t.”

  “You want him in your bed?”

  “Well, I certainly wouldn’t kick him out of my bed if he—”

  A hand clenched my ass, and the breath swooshed from my chest. The icy blue of his eyes sharpened, puncturing mine.

  “Do you want him? Truth.”

  “No,” I exhaled the only answer there was. “I want you.”

  The shining truth.

  Butler’s lips curled into a grin as we danced, his grip easing on me. I nestled closer into him, hoping all this truth was a good sign.

  His chest rumbled against me. Was that a laugh? I glanced up at him, and my heart skipped a beat at the wicked smile on those chiseled lips of his.

  “You want to flirt with other men, Tania?” His deep voice drilled straight into my belly. “You go ahead.”

  “What?”

  He chuckled softly. “You know why?”

  “Do I want to know why?” My back stiffened under his touch as his lips hovered over mine. I fought his wall of heat overwhelming my sense of logic, any sense of outrage, but it was no use. My body was on fire.

  “Because it makes you more turned on for me.”

  I pushed against him. “You’re unbelievable!”

  “Tell me it didn’t.”

  “It pissed me off.”

  “Why?”

  “I should be attracted to a man like Travis.”

  His hold on me tightened, his lips at my ear. “Say his name one more time, and we’re going to have a problem.”

  My nipples hardened at the deep timbre of his voice, the press of his hard body against mine.

  “I should be attracted to a guy like him,” I said. “He’s got the whole package—hot looks, engaging sense of humor, captivating charm. But am I attracted to him?”

  Butler raised an eyebrow, waiting for my reply.

  “No.” I dug my fingers into Butler’s hair, my nails scratching the back of his neck. “Instead, I have to go the hard way. Instead, I want you. I want you smiling at me, you dancing with me, you touching me.”

  He made a noise in the back of his throat and tugged me off the dance floor and down a narrow corridor to the side of the stage.

  “Butler? Where are we going?”

  We came to a sudden stop in front of a heavy metal door. A loud click of a bolt. He shoved at the door and pulled me inside a small dark room. He pushed me against a brick wall, and our breaths grew heavy, ragged. My back ached against the rough texture, but it didn’t matter. His hand seared a path up my chest, my throat, across the line of my jaw, and I turned to jelly. My lips fell open, a whimper escaping. I was pinned to the wall by the hurricane force of our anticipation.

  He cradled my face in his hands, our lips breaths apart. There was nothing I wanted more than to feel their pressure, their heat, to lose myself in—

  “Tania…” he whispered roughly.

  I arched against him, as if our bodies were magnets not to be denied the force between them, and he let out a hiss of air. There was awe, excitement, arousal in that hiss.

  His mouth crushed mine, and a thousand particles of light blew up inside me. I surged to my toes and met his demanding tongue with demands of my own.

  I broke away from his kiss before I completely turned to mush. “Why didn’t you say anything when Kyle showed up?”

  He grunted, his thumb tugging on my lower lip. “Did you want me to?”

  “I don’t know!”

  He kissed me again, his tongue exploring my mouth fully.

  He was relentless. Brutal. Hungry. And so was I.

  I knew it would be like this. I knew it.

  His fingers threaded in my hair, pulling my head back, and my scalp stung. His blue eyes reflected the shard of light coming through the half-open door, softly illuminating one side of his face. He took my breath away. Butler the Nordic deity whose otherworldly glare had cast a spell over me through the arctic mists.

  “I knew you could handle him, and you had to do it yourself. You don’t need me to fight your fights, Tania. I know you’re strong enough to do it yourself. I know this. I’ve seen it before, and I like it. Tonight, watching you be strong, be free, be smart—Fucking. Turned. Me. On.”

  He nipped at my lips, and I let out a cry.

  “Always does, Scarlett.”

  My heart stuttered, and I pressed my hips into his. “Turn me on some more then.”

  His hands went to my ass and squeezed as he ground against me, adjusting me against his erection. My eyelids fluttered at the precise friction, at the promise of his hard length.

  “What did that fuck want anyway?” His lips nuzzled my jaw, my throat.

  “Di-divorce is final next week. He wanted to make sure it was what I really wanted.”

  “A last pitch?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Impressive. And is a divorce still what you want?” His hand found a breast, and he rubbed my already hard nipple through my thin blouse and bra between his thumb and forefinger.

  I let out a tiny gasp, squirming against him. “Unequivocally.”

  He laughed as he bent his head and kissed the other side of my throat, his mouth tickling it with the wet heat of his tongue, his scruff scratching my skin.

  I was being drained and given a transfusion all at once. “Kiss me, damn you. I need you to—”

  His mouth took mine in a searching, toe-curling deep quest. He pulled back and studied my reaction, that arrogant gleam I knew so well in his eyes.

  “God, I like you,” I said. “A lot. I—”

  He shut me up with another savage kiss, his hands cradling my face.

  “Wh-what if…what if I’d gone home with you-know-who tonight?” I asked in between lip sucks and nibbles.

  His one hand closed over my throat. “What?”

  “Would you have stopped me? Or would you have let me go?”

  “That question is null and void,” he whispered.

  “Why?”

  “You wouldn’t have gone home with him or anybody else but me, and you know it. You want me to fuck you so bad; I could smell it all the way across the goddamn saloon tonight.”

  My mouth fell open.

  “Again, I’ve made her speechless.” He let out a soft chuckle. “When you want something, Scarlett, you’re a single-minded vixen.” His husky voice bit down on the consonants and dragged through the word, making everything between my legs pulse.

  “I’m a what?”

  “Vix
en.”

  I wanted to taste that word on his lips, and I kissed him again. His incredible mouth tore away from mine and nuzzled the delicate skin of my throat, the sweet spot behind my ear, sending a dizzying coil springing through me.

  “I love your determination, Tan. I count on it. You want me? I’m waiting. Break that door down, baby. I’m ready.”

  My heart pounded wildly. I never expected to hear this from a man, especially not a man like Butler. Yet, here it was, a declaration of passion, of honesty, of many, many orgasms in my very near future.

  My head buzzed. I was light-headed, floating, soaring at a higher altitude than ever before. I was being pushed out of the airplane. Scared out of my wits, exhilarated, intoxicated. Did I even have a parachute?

  Who cares?

  I relished the warm taste of him, his scent—sunlight and fresh air, his strong body holding me tight, and I held on for the ride of my life.

  Parachute be damned.

  “All I fucking want is you,” his voice rasped.

  He took one of my hands and cupped it over the solid length of his erection, and my breath hitched, my eyes finding his burning ones.

  “You got me here, baby. You did that,” he whispered against my lips, his words burning right through my flesh.

  He ignited me in another kiss. My legs shook, and I pressed myself back into the brick wall in a supreme effort to remain standing.

  His hands went to my breasts, roughly kneading them together. “So fucking sexy, Tania. Wanna bury my dick in these tits.”

  I let out a cry and tugged on his hair, bringing his mouth crashing down on mine again. My pelvis ground against his. My trembling body flooded with liquid heat. Every nerve ending tingled with hypersensitivity. The desire to give him all of me was intense. The girl inside me jumped up and down, like when I was a kid and I’d gone to a carnival with my family and had finally won the stuffed animal prize I’d had my eyes on all day.

  I got it. Me. I won.

  “Butler, you in there? Bro, got a situation. Need you out front!” Kicker’s voice boomed on the other side of the door we’d left ajar.

  My hands gripped the taut, ropy muscles of Butler’s arms.

  “Shit!” he muttered against my skin.

  He adjusted my blouse, and his brows drew together as he gave me one last heavy look, my stomach knotting under the weight of it. I ran my fingers through his unruly hair, and he reached over and pushed open the door. “What’s up, Kick?”

  Kicker shifted his weight on his pointy black cowboy boots. “Sorry, man. Finger’s here. He’s looking for Tania.”

  I lurched forward, breaking our connection, and Butler’s jaw clenched. I pulled open the door wider, the hallway light engulfing us.

  “What does he want?” I asked.

  Kicker’s dark eyebrows shot up, a smirk on his handsome face. “You.”

  Both men stared at me, dousing me with cold water. I squared my shoulders as I moved through the door.

  Butler grabbed my elbow, pulling me back. “What the fuck?”

  “I won’t know what’s going on until I talk to him, will I?”

  “What the hell is going on between the two of you?” he spit out.

  “I need to talk to him.”

  Butler tilted his head. “God forbid we keep him waiting. He comes calling, you go running.”

  “Guys”—Kicker shifted his weight, a hand running over his dark goatee—“you want me to tell him I can’t find you? That you took off?”

  Butler’s glittering eyes remained on me. He braced for my response. I braced to give it.

  “If he came here to find me, it must be important,” I said.

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really. And I need to find out what it is.”

  Butler grimaced, raising his hands in the air. “Who am I to stop you?”

  “Don’t do this, please.”

  “Oh, I’m not the one doing here,” Butler shot back.

  “It’s not what you think.”

  “I’m thinking a hell of a lot of things, Tania.”

  “Bro!” Kicker’s insistent voice cut between us.

  “I can’t explain it to you now,” I said, glancing at Kicker. “But Finger has never lied to me, cheated me, or steered me wrong. He doesn’t do things without a purpose. I trust him.”

  A sneer lashed Butler’s face, his lips curling. “That sounds like a long, thick history.”

  “Are you coming with me?”

  “What? Me?” he bit out.

  “Can’t you trust me here?”

  “Ah, I should trust you, but you can’t tell me, right? Can’t tell me about whatever you and him have had going on or not going on for years now?” His voice grew sharper and sharper.

  I let out a breath, my eyes darting down the hallway.

  “You can’t get into it now, but will you ever?” Butler asked.

  “I’d like to. I will.”

  “Well, that’s real sweet.”

  “Butler, for him to come here looking for me, something must be wrong. Something he needs me to help him with.”

  He leaned into me. “You’d better not keep the big man waiting then. I’ll bet you never have.” His rough whisper grated on my skin.

  I turned and strode down the hallway, my chest loaded down with bricks. The bricks ripped from the wall he had just had me up against.

  Goddamn it.

  “B!” Kicker hollered. “Hey!”

  Behind me exploded the splintering crash of glass and a thousand black curses.

  FINGER’S LEGS WERE PLANTED WIDE, his nostrils flaring, his storm-filled eyes on Tania, as she charged toward him.

  She came to a stop in front of him. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  A muscle along his jaw flexed. “Where’ve you been? I’ve been calling, but you don’t answer.”

  “I’ve been here most of the night. I wasn’t paying too much attention to my phone. Sorry.”

  His harsh gaze landed on me, the lines of his face tightening even more.

  “Finger! Are you going to tell me what’s going on, or are we going to stand here all night?” Tania asked, glancing over at me.

  He hooked her upper arm and tugged her past our table to the bar. Grace and Alicia stared at them, none too happy.

  “Hey! What the hell are you doing?” I tracked after them. “Let go of her!”

  Finger pinned me with a ferocious glare. “Get the fuck out of my face!”

  “Butler, it’s okay. Really—” Tania said.

  “The hell it is. I said, let go of her!”

  “You stay out of my business!” Finger growled.

  “She still your business? She’s—”

  “Please, Butler! Please!”

  “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” I said.

  “Tania, what’s going on?” Grace appeared at my side.

  “I need to hear Finger out. That’s all,” Tania said.

  “That’s all,” I said, my tone bitter, mocking. “I’ve been down this road before, and I ain’t doing it again.”

  Grace stiffened, Tania glancing at her.

  “Have at it.” I raised my chin. “I’m out.”

  Tania’s eyes widened and she looked away. Was it shock or hurt? The black slime of self-loathing spewed through my veins.

  “Let’s go,” Finger said, his voice curt, harsh.

  The pounding against my skull intensified at the tone of his demand. Boner came up on the other side of me, the press of his shoulder against mine keeping me from launching myself at Finger, from getting his hand off her arm.

  Biff, the owner of the Roadhouse, got in my face. “Take it off my property. Now. You men know the fucking rules. Years now.”

  “We’re leaving.” Finger dragged Tania away.

  Away from me.

  The woman I had lost myself in moments ago—the feel of her, the taste of her, the promise of her—just the two of us in a stifling dark room off a hall in an old b
ar, yet it had felt like total fucking paradise. I could still feel her short breaths hot on my chest, her eager hands pressing into my body, urging me, wanting from me.

  Wanting me.

  One minute, Finger and I have a solid business relationship, seeing eye to eye, and now, here he was, getting in my face over the woman I wanted.

  He had killed Jump, and I had helped him kill Reich, so he could gain more power in his club. We had a hold on each other.

  And he had some sort of hold on Tania. The one woman who meant more to me than anything. The woman who had claimed my heart, claimed me, body and soul.

  “Are you okay?” Grace touched my arm.

  My head fell forward, and I let out a laugh. The bitter irony of Grace being the one to ask me that question right at this moment was not lost on me.

  My shoulders dropped. “I am done with this shit. So fucking done.”

  “I don’t know what’s going on between them,” she said. “And I’ve been wishing I did for a while now.”

  I tore my eyes away from Finger and Tania exiting the Roadhouse. The two of them were probably charging toward his bike.

  Toward fuck knows what.

  I ran a hand down my face. “Obviously, it’s something, Grace. She’s never told you?”

  My hands rifled through my pockets. Where are those fucking smokes when I need them? I shouldn’t be smoking at all, but fuck it. I needed something, and I needed it right the fuck now.

  “When we saw you in Nebraska at the Flames’ clubhouse, they seemed to know each other already,” Grace said.

  Damn it. Fucking empty. I crumpled plastic and paper in my fist.

  “I’d picked up on that, too.”

  “She seemed uncomfortable though. I asked her about it on the drive home, but she managed to avoid answering although she admitted they’d had something in the past, a long time ago, but I never knew about it. Then, when he was here at the club the last time, she again refused to discuss it.”

  “I don’t know, Grace. Maybe he’s got something on her and he’s holding it over her head? Then again, she acts like she owes him, like he’s a priority for her.”

  “She doesn’t seem afraid of him or threatened though, right?”

  “True. One of the few.”

  “Whatever it is, they seem pretty comfortable—if that’s the right word.”

  I winced. “I don’t know if that makes me feel any better.”