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Random & Rare Page 14

by Cat Porter


  I squashed the riot of faces and voices simmering in my insides and the what ifs and the could’ve-beens. Maybe I wouldn’t have had Grace if…yeah, I would’ve been someone else entirely, somewhere else.

  My eyes were riveted on my bride, letting the radiance beaming from her face steady me, root me to the very ground, to the dry wind blowing at our hair, to the tall grasses sweeping in the distance. To Wreck’s face-splitting grin.

  Boner, my best man, standing at my side, was unusually serious. His lips firmly sealed, his piercing green eyes bright. He and I had come so far together. From two straggly, dirty teenagers running away from a group home, looking to rip off before we were ripped off, scraping change together to eat or just plain stealing to survive. We’d learned about bikes together, made raw confessions to each other from under the cloak of darkness, only the rasp of our voices mingling in the night air on the side of a road. We’d cleaned up each other’s messes, even now, and righted each other’s wrongs over and over again. We were two patched-up souls who’d finally found purpose in brotherhood and a dented sense of peace here in a corner of South Dakota, and we’d accomplished that side by side.

  Wreck planted a gentle kiss on Grace’s cheek and then put her hand in mine. He covered them both with his. He let out a heavy breath as he squeezed all our hands together. He raised his gaze to mine, his sapphire-blue eyes shimmering. “She’s your woman. Shield her heart and soul with your own.” He turned to Grace. “He’s your man, yours to support and keep strong when he’s not able and when he doesn’t know how. You take care of each other, and you do it right. Do it well. Be fair.”

  A shiver raced up my spine at the emotion in his voice, at Grace’s sharp intake of breath. That was ceremony enough for me, but Matt waited behind me to make it all legal and official for the State of South Dakota. Wreck released our hands, his wet eyes holding mine, and stepped back.

  “You all ready for a wedding?” shouted Boner, his voice tight.

  Everyone hollered. I wrapped my hands around Grace’s neck and kissed her right then, official pronouncement be damned.

  “How you feeling, baby?” I raised my voice over the blast of Pearl Jam’s “Even Flow” booming through Pete’s.

  Grace glanced up at me as she rubbed down the bar top, her lips tipping up at the sight of me. “Oh, hey! What? What do you mean?”

  “Being an old married lady.”

  She smirked. “Mr. Quillen, I’m a married old lady, not an old married lady.”

  I threw my head back and laughed, and she threw her spongy white towel at me.

  “With you, Dig, I think I’m going to stay young forever.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  I threw the towel back on the bar, and she grabbed it and folded it.

  “What are you doing here, baby?” Grace asked. “I thought you had to be at Tingle tonight? You need something from me?”

  Alicia and Dee laughed over their shot glasses at the crowded bar. Cruel Fate was setting up on the small stage in a corner of Pete’s. They’d been on tour through the Midwest and down to Texas for months, and they had gained a solid following. This was their first gig in the Rapid City area, and they had chosen to play at Pete’s to promote their first single. There was already a line outside.

  I planted my hands over the bar. “Wrong question. I always need something from you.”

  She made a face at me. “Oh, brother. That, we know.”

  The women snickered over their kamikazes and clinked glasses.

  “Asshole’s jealous!” Alicia laughed.

  I shot her a glare.

  I turned around and leaned back against the bar, surveying the noisy crowd and the hustle of the staff. I didn’t think Pete’s had seen a crowd like this in decades. It had been a real hippie hangout in the ‘60s and ‘70s. Plenty of folk singers and country balladeers had stumbled through it along with a number of garage bands in recent years, but tonight, it was about to turn into a rock ’n’ roll house of worship.

  “I wanted to be here to show my support for my wife on her big score,” I said. I also wanted to show my face and get the lay of the land. Two of our prospects were here running security outside.

  Eric, the lead guitarist, and Teddy, the drummer, caught my eye and nodded at me, stiff half grins on their faces. I raised my chin and flicked two fingers in response.

  Mission accomplished.

  But I couldn’t stay.

  “Hey, Grace. That soda gun is sputtering again!” a bartender shouted.

  “I’ll be right there!”

  I turned around. “I’ll take a look at it.”

  “Oh, would you, babe? That would be great. Thank you.” She leaned in and kissed me, her fingers tracing through the stubble on the side of my face. The driving guitars of “Hold On” flared over the speakers.

  “What’s with all the Pearl Jam tonight?” I asked.

  She grinned. “That’s in your honor.”

  “I don’t get it.”

  “You’re my Eddie Vedder, baby.” She leaned in close to me once again, her hand curling into the trim of my jacket, as she fluttered her tongue against my lips. “I keep you close to me, even when you’re not here.”

  “Oh, man.” I laughed hard, my hand clasping her bicep. “That’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me, Grace Quillen.”

  “Aw, is it? It’s true, honey. You’re my fantasy and my reality all rolled into one fab man package.”

  “Does that mean you’re gonna worship me like a dedicated groupie when you get home tonight? You’d better not fall asleep on me like last night, is all I have to say, or I’m going to have to rethink this whole managing-a-bar-full-time career choice of yours.”

  Her lips pulled in, her cheeks flushed, and her shoulders pushed back. “Oh, really? Let’s see. You manage a strip club. Should I rethink that, babe?”

  The women broke out into hard loud laughs.

  “Have I ever fallen asleep on you, darlin’?”

  “Oh, no. Really?” Dee laughed, her eyes wide. “Grace, that’s not good, hon!”

  “Ah! That only means his techniques need a makeover!” Alicia squawked as she slammed a hand on the bar.

  Grace’s eyes flared. “You can plan on a full worship session tonight. Just get moving on that Sprite gun, would you?”

  The women whooped and cheered.

  I threw my hands in the air. “Fuck this marriage shit, I swear.”

  Dee and Alicia raised yet another round of kamikaze shots toward Grace.

  “Set your old man straight, Sister! That a girl!” Dee laughed.

  Grace grinned from ear to ear and stuck her tongue out, wagging it at me. I winked at my wife as she strode past me and directed two of her waitresses on setting up several extra tables. I let out a breath. I wished I didn’t have to go to work tonight. I wished I could stay here and have a plain ole good time with my wife, but business was business.

  “Dig?”

  Behind the bar the bartender pointed to the soda gun in question.

  “Got it.”

  “Hey you.” Lissa’s voice piped up behind me stopping me in my tracks.

  Ah, fuck.

  “Hey.”

  “Haven’t seen you around in a while.”

  “Busy. Got married. Life.”

  Glasses thunked on the bar top, and stools shuffled behind me.

  Lissa’s thin eyebrows shot up for a second. “Oh. Right.”

  “Yep.”

  She punched out a hip and smirked. “And how’s that going?”

  “Who wants to know?” Grace suddenly stood next to me, her eyes piercing Lissa.

  “Uh…”

  Grace inclined her head. “Who are you?” she slowly uttered the words.

  Oh, she wasn’t asking for Lissa’s name though. She was asking a deeper metaphysical question.

  “I’m Li—”

  “And I don’t care,” Grace practically snarled. “This is my old man. He’s not yours. Not yours to t
ouch, kiss, lick, suck, strip for, dance for, tease, nor does he light your fucking cigarettes or buy you a drink. Ever.”

  Lissa gulped, her eyes wide, her body motionless.

  Grace turned to her BFFs standing on my other side. “Did I miss anything?”

  “No, honey,” Dee replied. “You got it.”

  Grace turned back to Lissa. “Did that register, or should I go over that one more time for you to make sure?”

  Speechless.

  I was transfixed.

  “No, I-I got it,” Lissa mumbled.

  “Let me know if you need a review of these basics because you cross those lines again, any of them, in any fucking way, large or small—ever—there will be serious repercussions for you.” Grace leaned into Lissa. Her stance wide, my old lady looked larger than life. My cock stiffened against my jeans.

  “Did you hear that, bitch?” Alicia said, her face twisting in a nasty sneer.

  “Got it. Yeah, sorry.” Lissa glanced at me.

  Mistake.

  Grace leaned in closer, her hand gripping Lissa’s chin. “Honey, I get that bikers do it for you. But this particular biker is mine. All fucking mine, head to toe, inside and out. So fuck off. Got that?”

  Grace released Lissa’s chin, and Lissa stiffly and slowly nodded her head, like a toy robot on its last charge of battery power.

  “Yeah, that’s right.” Dee let out a throaty dark laugh.

  “I know you’ve been trying your damnedest for the longest time. I’ve been watching. But he is not going to be tapping that ass of yours. Not ever. Get the fuck out of my bar, and do not come back.” Grace was still, focused like a stealthy cobra calmly waiting in between strikes.

  “Okay,” Lissa mumbled as she teetered away.

  “Tommy!” Grace shouted to one of her bouncers at the door.

  Tommy’s bodybuilding bulk towered before Lissa. His eyes flicked over her. “What’s up, Mrs. Q?”

  “This girl needs to be escorted out of our bar, and she’s not allowed back in. Got that?”

  “Got it.” He glared at Lissa. “Let’s go.”

  Lissa plodded after Tommy toward the front door.

  “Lissa?” Two girls screeched and bustled at the other end of the bar. “Lissa? What’s going on? Where are you going? Wait up!”

  Grace scowled at me, her hands digging into her waist. “Sprite!” she snapped.

  I nodded as I rounded the bar top. She grabbed my arm as I brushed past her.

  Her big greenish eyes flashed at me. “My office when you’re done, and be prepared to get on your knees.”

  My breath stalled.

  I fixed that soda gun within four minutes, strode into the office, and made sure the door behind me was locked.

  “Dammit, that mouth.” Grace sighed, her fingertips brushing through my hair, her one booted leg sliding up my back.

  I grinned as I gave her pussy a final long lick, my fingers sliding out from inside her. My eyes stayed on hers as her hips rose slightly, and she let out a soft moan. Her tang melted on my tongue, and something twinged in my chest.

  “Grace?” I planted kisses along her damp, inner thigh.

  “Hmm?”

  “Baby, you happy?”

  She sat up straighter on the desk, her brow furrowed. “Of course I’m happy.”

  Here I was, on my knees, eating out my old lady in the musty back room, which called itself an office, of a two-bit bar in a two-bit town. Piles of old photos and town notices, bills and orders, dotted the floor and the old desk under Grace’s fantastic naked ass. She remained determined to make a dent in organizing the mess Pete had left behind. Here she was, in all her sensual bare beauty, splayed out on this battered metal desk just for me. Downright majestic. I fucking loved it.

  “And you just made me even happier.” She giggled. “That was extremely satisfying, Mr. Quillen.”

  “Glad to hear it. We like a satisfied customer in these parts, ma’am.” I laughed, standing up, adjusting the painful erection in my jeans.

  I exhaled as my fingers went back to trailing over her hot skin, teasing her drenched pussy one last time, and then tracing wet circles over her tummy. She sighed and stretched out on the desk once more.

  We’d managed it, hadn’t we? Made a new life, here in our little spot in the world, me and Grace. We had pledged loyalty, commitment, and truth to each other just a few months before. We regularly worshiped each other’s bodies, shared our good times and our sorrows—well, not all of them, not mine. That wasn’t her burden to bear, though, and it didn’t matter right now.

  My hand stretched out over the warm skin of her stomach. Grace’s body was our temple, our bit of holy, where both of us connected and exploded together in some sort of glorious, furious symphony. Her skin was still flush with the pleasure I’d just given her, and my mark stained the skin on her sweet ass. Forever.

  Her fingers traced lines up and down my arm, and a shiver raced over my flesh.

  “What is it, honey? You okay?”

  I stared at her. “I—”

  Her eyes darted up at the large commercial clock on the wall, and her fingers gripped my arms. “Shoot, I need to get back out there and see what’s going on with the band!” Her body jerked up on the desk. “Baby, I promise you big payback tonight when I get home, no matter what.”

  I stroked her side. “I don’t need payback from you.”

  She only grinned and swung her long necklace around from her back where it had fallen during our stolen little sexcapade. The silver One-Eyed Jacks medallion now settled over her middle. I flipped over the shiny pendant, my fingertip smoothing over the engraved words on the back.

  Yeah.

  This two-bit bar, this worn-out town, just a speck in the middle of a lonely grassy prairie with the stony hills beyond, the small fix-it-yourself house I’d bought for us—that was all ours, our world, our high life. It wasn’t name-brand, shiny, or white picket fences, but none of that mattered. As long as we were together, it was good, it was clean, it was ours.

  She lifted up.

  “Wait,” I said, my two hands pressing down over her middle.

  She blinked up at me, propping herself back on her elbows once again. “Dig, I need to get dressed and get back to work.”

  My lips tipped up as I reached down on the floor and grabbed her panties. She held out a hand for them, but I raised an eyebrow and shook my head. I guided the strip of blue satin carefully over each boot and then slid it up her legs. She raised her hips and let out a sigh, as I kissed her pussy one last time. I brought the panty up, smoothing the waistband over her hips.

  My hands stroked her middle. “I want to make that baby you were talking about a while back.”

  “What?” Her abs tensed under my touch.

  “Let’s do it.”

  Her eyes searched mine. “Really?”

  I nodded. “Yeah.”

  Her face tightened, her lips pursed.

  “What is it? I thought you’d be jumping up and down.”

  “I am.” She sat up on the desk. “It’s just that…well, now that I’m working full-time, I think I’d rather wait on the baby thing a little while longer, so I can throw myself into this for a bit more. Is that okay?”

  I grinned. “Can’t do both, huh?”

  Her face fell. “Not the way I’d like to. With the hours we both work and how we work? I don’t think so, Dig. Could we give it another year or two? Is that okay?”

  A piece of my heart shrank. “Sure. You’re still a fresh young thing.” My hands stroked her thighs.

  “No, really. Is that okay?” Her fingers curled in my belt.

  “Yeah, baby. That’s fine. You just let Mr. Peckerwood here know when he’s needed, is all.”

  We both laughed as her hand rubbed over the stiff bulge between my legs.

  “Aw, don’t listen to him, Mr. Peckerwood. You’re always needed.”

  She kissed the bulk tenting in my jeans as I cupped a breast, letting out a deep sigh.
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  “I love you,” she whispered against my middle, her arms tightening around me.

  My hands sifted through her wavy long hair, and I planted a quick kiss on the top of her head. “Love you, too.”

  Grace released me and hopped down from the desk. She peeled two receipts and a bill from the back of her thigh, making a funny face as she smacked them back on the desk. “Geez.”

  She smoothed her skirt down over her gorgeous legs. I would never get tired of that sight. No, that anxious teenager I’d first seen over a bonfire at a high school keg party a century ago was now a confident, sexy woman. My woman.

  I grinned at my old lady. “I’ve got to get to work myself. Dready will be here at four on the dot to get you home. He’s not here by then, you call him, and then you call me.”

  “Okay.” She smooched my cheek and then rubbed her face against the damp scruff on my chin. “Hmm…I like my perfume on you, especially when you’re going to Tingle for the night.” She let out a little dry laugh.

  “I like it, too.” I kissed her one last time.

  Smiling, Grace pushed back from me and unlocked the office door. Her short skirt twitching over her ass, she strode out into the wild Meager night, live music blaring.

  “SISTER, IT’S GOING TO LOOK SEXY! COME ON, MY TREAT.”

  “Caitlyn, what the hell are you up to with my old lady?”

  Butler’s old lady only smiled that shit-eating grin of hers. It had been just over three years since Butler had left Meager, and Grace and I had gotten married. Years of relative quiet and good times. Butler and I had finally made peace, and we had been able to meet, make plans, do business. Since Butler had hooked up with Caitlyn a couple of years back, things had been even smoother between us. In fact, Grace and I would go up to the club’s North Dakota chapter in Hound once in a while and spend time with them since our women actually enjoyed each other’s company. That was what we were doing this weekend.

  “It’s a surprise for you, Dig. One of the first of many, I’m hoping.” Caitlyn’s blue eyes cut back to Grace. “Right? You wouldn’t want to disappoint your old man now, would you?” She made a face.

  Grace burst out laughing. “Stop! I told you I’d think about it.”

 

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