Biker Daddy (The Grimm Tales of Smoky Vale Book 1)

by Gianni Holmes

  I shrugged. “Well, we’re not the first to make trouble, but if trouble finds us, we handle our business.”

  “Sounds sensible if you ask me,” he answered on a cough. “But too many fucking oldsters are still stuck in the ways of the past. Didn’t your men balk at changing?”

  I grinned at him, finding it funny that the most powerful man in our neck of the woods wanted my advice. “Change comes in two ways. Either through evolution or revolution. The less messy is evolution. It took us years to reach where we are, and my brothers may not be crazy dicks looking to off everyone who steps on their toes, but they’ve still got a bit of the old ways in them. We’ve still got our drug trade, which keeps their pockets fat. We’ve got our parties to give ’em a damn good time. We have our legit businesses too. Oh yeah, and not every member is gay. I know the rumor is going on that we’re just having one big fucking orgy. That’s not true. Maybe only forty percent of the time.”

  Crowe laughed, not offended in the least. “If you ask me, Grimm, you’ve been the smartest of us all. Your legit businesses cover up your illegal ones. I think I’m gonna need to stick close to you and learn from you. We can’t be fools for the Feds anymore. They’ve picked up three of our men this month. Two last month. It’s about damn time we’re smarter. So, what do you say? Are you sure you don’t want your cut back or at least an alliance?”

  Despite Crowe showing a different side of himself than his old man, I turned down his attempt to get me back into the colors they had snatched from me. I’d built my own club, and I had too much pride to betray these colors. The men who’d stayed with me when the MC world shunned me were loyal, and I was not handing them over to anyone. Not even the chairperson of the board. I didn’t care how gay-friendly he was.

  It was good to have alliances, though, so I humored Crowe with a possible friendship. He seemed more tolerant than his asshole father.

  The rest of the weekend was full of partying, drinking, and orgies. I’d never planned to indulge, but on a whim, Booker and I passed a chick between us. We got a few glances in our direction since it was an open sex house, but I didn’t give a damn. I had my kinks, and I doubted I could find them here, but for now, this was enough.

  A climax was a climax after all, right?

  When we got back to our compound in Smoky Vale two days later, I crashed hard. I wasn’t afraid to admit I was no longer in my prime, and unlike the other bikers who used a line of meth to keep them partying for the weekend on little sleep, I preferred being sober. Especially with Gunner glaring at me every chance he got. I wasn’t giving him the chance to knife me while I was too fucked up on drugs to be able to defend myself.

  Home had never seemed sweeter. I fell asleep in my road gear, hardly able to keep my eyes open. When Booker shook me, I doubted I’d been asleep for long.

  “Fuck, didn’t I say nobody should wake me?” I thundered. I was still exhausted from our ride. I needed at least twelve hours of sleep in me to prevent me from knifing the first person who irritated me.

  “I thought you’d be interested in the commotion outside the gate,” he announced.

  “Well, don’t stand there all day making me guess,” I growled at him.

  “It’s the kid,” he explained. “He’s making a whole lot of noise about being let in.”

  I didn’t need to ask which kid he was referring to. It could only mean one intolerable boy who was back to give me a damn stroke. I’d hoped Joel would have been able to talk some sense into him, but I should have known better. When that Half-Way had his mind set on something, there were no powers on earth that could get him to abandon his goal. And for some reason, he had set his sights on me.

  I’m coming back for you.

  I couldn’t deny the flicker of interest in my chest. I hadn’t seen him in so damn long. But I knew what was best for him, and it sure as hell was not a life here in Smoky Vale. Not a life with me.

  “Ignore him,” I told Booker. “Eventually, he’ll get the message and fuck off.”

  With that, I pounded my pillow, making it evident I was going back to sleep. But even when he was gone and I was alone again, sleep now eluded me. All I saw was his small upturned face, the deep brown eyes, pink lips, and stubborn chin.

  I’m coming back for you.

  Chapter Three

  Jamie

  On my seventeenth birthday, I’d coaxed Joel to do something daring with me. His father was out of town, and I wanted to know what his hangout spot was like. Grimm’s Gallows had a neon-orange sign outside, but it was the inside that held my interest, and although Joel tried to talk me out of it, he had eventually followed me inside.

  Everyone who thought the outlaw biker’s son had led me astray would have been shocked to find out how wrong they were. I was behind every scheme, and because Joel was concerned, he always ended up in every bit of trouble alongside me.

  We had made it as far as the bar. I knew that even if Joel could pass for twenty-one, there was no way in hell I would pass for the legal age to drink. I looked too young, my frame was too slender, and the lack of facial hair I was never able to grow at all worked to my disadvantage. However, I had hoped to play on my cuteness to get us in, have a drink, then leave.

  We got the drink all right and a whole lot of trouble to go with it. I had barely taken a sip of the god-awful beer that was on tap before Grimm walked in. He took one look at us, grabbed us both by the scruffs of our necks, and marched us out. He’d delivered me to the front door of my father’s house and had grounded Joel from having me over for two weeks.

  I’d never set foot in the bar again. Not even after I’d turned legal and came to town.

  Tonight, that was going to change.

  That neon sign had my heart racing with excitement as I paid the cab driver and pretended I didn’t notice the way he was ogling me. I tugged down the hem of the crop top that showed off my twin belly button piercings before giving up in futility. Tugging on material didn’t cause it to magically grow another inch.

  In med school, they’d called me Future Doctor Slut because of my piercings and the way I dressed outside of classes. I hadn’t given a damn because the men in my life had helped me become the confident person I was.

  Grimm and Joel never minded my femme tendencies, and although he’d protested at first, my father had eventually caved and let me wear makeup. It had taken him a little longer to accept his only son liked revealing outfits and attention-seeking colors, but even he had adjusted to the program. I’d won him over one piercing at a time.

  At the doors leading inside the bar, I paused and sucked in a deep breath. This was it. I’d been in town for a week now, and Grimm had been ignoring me. No one allowed me onto the compound where he lived, and I’d been working long hours at the hospital, so I hadn’t been able to put more effort into accidentally running into him. Tonight I was. It was the weekend, and I was a little thirsty for a biker who had been ignoring me almost all my life.

  I’d hoped to enter silently and scope out the bar for Grimm before he spotted me. I should have known better than to expect this, dressed the way I was. Wolf whistles and catcalls heralded my entry, making me pause. The men who frequented this establishment could behave like animals. Plus, I was walking into a den of hungry lions, always eager to test out fresh meat.

  “Well, hello, sugar!” a coarse man with a beer belly yelled at me above the low music playing in the background. He patted the front of his pants while leering at me. “Come sit on Daddy’s lap. I got something to make you real happy.”

  I started to respond but glimpsed a familiar face in my peripheral vision.

  Grimm.

  Dismissing the obnoxious drunk, I faced the man who’d brought me back to Smoky Vale. He sat at the L-shaped bar, staring right back at me with raised and curved eyebrows. My heart skipped a beat, then pounded in my chest. This was it. This was the moment I’d been waiting for since I left Smoky Vale to study.

  Grimm always looked good. He was just as broa
d-shouldered as I remembered, his dark brown, tousled hair framing a strong face from which knowledgeable eyes met mine. Before he could get his bearings together, I crossed the bar to where he sat, a pint of beer before him. I would bet it was his first glass. Grimm never had more than one. He had more discipline than most men I knew, one of the gazillion reasons I was all goo-goo-gaga over him.

  “Don’t even think about getting up,” I announced loudly enough only for his ears. While my attention was focused on him, I didn’t fail to notice the interest we were getting. “You’ve been avoiding me, and that’s not cool, Daddy Grimm. I’ve been waiting practically my whole life for this, so you’re going to hear it because you can’t use my age as an excuse anymore. I”—I pointed at myself, then at him—“want to fuck you.”

  A few seconds of silence passed as Grimm continued to stare at me like he couldn’t believe I was here making demands. He was too slick to be caught off guard for too long, though, and he straightened his shoulders.

  “What the fuck did you just say, Half-Way?”

  I rolled my eyes at the glowering giant who towered over my petite frame. I never liked his nickname for me. From the way he glared, you’d have thought I’d just asked him to serve me his heart on a platter.

  No, that could come after. What I wanted from him tonight, on the other hand, was very simple. I wanted all six feet two inches of him, and I didn’t intend to walk out of the bar until I got him. All of him.

  “You heard me, Graeme Buckley,” I said, glowering right back at him to let him know I wasn’t scared of that infamous scowl of his. I’d had thirteen years to get accustomed to it, and I had grown immune. Never in a million years would he hurt me. I knew it. He tried to deny it. Hell, anyone who witnessed how close I’d been to his kid for the past thirteen years probably understood it well enough.

  Him holding out on me over some principle he had about me being his son’s best friend screwed with my plans, but I was the right amount of pissed not to back down tonight. For the past week, I’d tried getting into his stronghold to see him, but he’d deliberately kept me out. He didn’t even pretend that he wasn’t there. He’d plain told his “henchmen” to relay the message for me to haul my ass back to Boston.

  Neverrrr.

  Coming to Grimm’s Gallows, the seediest bar in town, was my last desperate resort. I didn’t particularly like the place. Hard-core men hung out here when they wanted to be idle for the night or were looking for trouble. But Grimm had left me with no choice.

  “I doubt I did,” he said, a picture of calm as he grabbed the beer mug and took a gulp from it. “For a minute there, I thought you said you want us to fuck.”

  “Nope, that’s not what I said,” I corrected him, enunciating this time so he got it right. “I said I want to fuck you.”

  The glass crashed onto the bar counter, and for the first time since I’d entered the bar, he gave me his full attention. “Go home, kid.”

  He looked me up and down, and I felt feisty enough to do a twirl for him, showing off my curvy ass in the shorts I was wearing. They were of the extremely short variety, and I was quite positive he was able to see a bit of ass cheek when I completed my three-sixty.

  “Like what you see?” I taunted him. I probably would have tucked my cock between my legs and walked out of the bar already, but the tic in his strong square jaw was more truthful than any word coming from his lips. He wanted me. I just knew he did. He had to want me. I had my eyes set on this man for as long as I could remember.

  After a bajillion rejections, it was going to happen tonight.

  “You’re really on an ego trip tonight, aren’t you, Half-Way?” he asked, smirking at me like he wasn’t affected by my looks in the least. Well, I looked damn fine in my outfit, proved by the horny eyes of the men in the bar on me, wanting me. I could crook a finger at any of them, and they’d crawl to me, but I didn’t just want anyone. When we were thirteen, I’d sworn to the laughing face of my best friend, Joel, that I would marry his father.

  I still wanted to marry him one day, but sex first. I was a twenty-four-year-old virgin thanks to this man, and tonight I had come to collect.

  “Tell me something, kid,” he said in a contemplative tone. “Didn’t you go to a fancy medical school or something? Is this what they taught you there? How to hit on men who have no interest in you? You’re making a fool of yourself. You need to get this through your thick skull. I. Don’t. Want. You. Never have. Never will.”

  I’d thought I was immune to anything he had to throw at me. I’d heard them all before. He’d said those exact words so often. Why did they hurt now more than they did then? Maybe because this was our last chance. At least that was the way I felt. If I didn’t have a relationship with Grimm this time, that would be it for us.

  “I don’t believe you,” I croaked, then cleared my throat to speak with more conviction. “I see the way you watch me when you think I’m not looking. And I especially know you like to be fucked, not the other way around, so why are you pretending with me?”

  His face flushed, even though his eyes hardened, and he was grinding his teeth. Fuck yes, I was possibly the only man alive who ever made his bastard heart soften enough for him to blush. Score one for me. Ninety-nine for him. We were already making progress.

  We’d never before talked about that night, when I was fifteen and had been sleeping over. I had tricked my dad about where I would be spending the weekend. I’d never quite forgotten the way I’d seen Grimm that night. On all fours, getting his ass plugged by a slender guy who looked a lot like me. Just older.

  “This is the last warning I’m giving you, kid. Get the fuck out of my face and the hell away from my bar. Take your fancy medical training, tuck your cute little tush back at the hospital where you belong, and get far away from me.”

  Despite his harsh tone, I lit up on the inside like a Christmas tree overly decorated with lights. “You think I have a cute tush?”

  “God, kid, just get the fuck out of here!”

  Grimm rose to his feet and stomped away, startling me. My stomach dropped to the floor, and a flare of panic surged into my gut. I couldn’t stand him walking away from me again. Not this time.

  “If you walk away from me again, Grimm, this is it!” I told him, fed up with the cat-and-mouse game he’d had too much time to perfect. I enjoyed playing the mouse, but it was no fun if I wasn’t caught and devoured.

  “Good.”

  Without another word from him, he continued walking, leaving my heart crushed. I zeroed in on his back, fucking pissed. Too pissed to let him get away with it. I was sick and tired of Grimm always running out on me instead of giving us both what we craved.

  Joel was no longer around. He still had a year of law school to complete while I’d opted to come back for my residency. Who the hell am I trying to kid? I was back for Grimm’s ass, and I felt quite murderous when he snagged one of the Latino serving twinks around the waist and hauled the boy after him.

  Over his shoulder, the twink-a-be (since he was really fucking in his thirties, and no amount of Botox could hide that) gave me a smirk. I’d worn my heart on my fucking sleeve all these years. Raúl, the Latino twink-a-be, knew damn well how I felt about Grimm. He’d been hanging around these bikers for as long as I could remember, but there he went off with the man who was mine.

  That was when I snapped.

  Chapter Four

  Grimm

  That damn boy didn’t know what giving up meant. He should have given up on his quest when I’d turned him down the first time. He definitely should have started dating guys his age after I’d spanked him for invading my bed.

  Although I already knew of his stubbornness, I was still surprised when the door to the back room where I was with Raúl flew open and crashed into the wall. There he stood, just inside the now open door, like an avenging angel, nostrils flaring. Raúl was tucked between my legs, my cock halfway to his mouth.

  He should have looked ridiculous in those w
ay too short shorts and the cropped top that showed off his flat stomach with the hint of abs that made my mouth water. He was still as perfect as he had always been, and his presence tonight had almost sent me into a shock. I’d never expected him to walk into my bar, which had been a damn mistake on my part.

  I should never have underestimated him.

  And the fucking truth about it was that I admired his grit. I was a sucker for a pretty face, and my son’s best friend had always been gifted in the looks department. He must have been kissed by all the archangels on his way from heaven. Yeah, that was the corny shit his pretty face made me want to say to him. At forty-seven years old, I was completely unraveled by the fire burning in those chocolate eyes of his that seemed to pierce through my soul.

  The first time I’d met him when he was a knobby-kneed eleven-year-old, he’d stared up at me with hero worship, one eye sporting a shiner while his hair rippled down his back. “Hey, mister, I want to be you when I grow up,” he’d said in such awe that I’d laughed. There was no way in hell the skinny kid would ever be a biker.

  I hadn’t changed my mind about that.

  At first, I thought his hero worship was cute. I thought nothing else of it. He was a kid. They were usually impressed or afraid of a giant who wore a leather harness and rode a hog. Only his casual “I want to be you when I grow up” had turned into “I will marry you when I grow up.”

  If he and my boy Joel hadn’t been so close, I would have banned him from coming around. Both his pa and I had tried putting a stop to it, but he and Joel were as thick as thieves. To keep them both safe, we’d arrived at somewhat of a truce. When they were both at my home, he knew they were safe.

  “Really, Grimm?” he spat at me, his pretty pink lips pursed in a thin line. “You’re going to choose this slut over me?”