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

by Gianni Holmes

  With those words, he sealed our fates. I believed every word from his lips. For whatever twisted reasons he had, this boy was adamant about sticking by my side. I didn’t attempt to understand it. We had women in the club who had left their jobs, their husbands, and families to surround themselves with the Reapers. I never questioned their sanity before, but I was close to questioning Jamie’s.

  “Do you have to get to the hospital today?” I asked him, shifting the conversation to a different topic.

  “Yeah, but later tonight,” he replied, stretching. “I’m the intern, so I’m on the graveyard shift, but the program director assured me my hours would rotate.”

  “Good. What time do you have to be there?”

  “I have a sixteen-hour shift starting at five.”

  “Damn, sounds like a lot of work.”

  “It’s not too bad now since I’m still in the stage of introducing myself around and getting a feel of the place.”

  I sat up, then got to my feet, and so did he. He was still naked, and I stared hungrily at his slender body. He had done well last night. I almost moved toward him to mow him back down onto the bed, but his stomach growled.

  Ah, breakfast. That’s the reason we’re at this point.

  “Hungry?” I asked, and he nodded.

  “Starving, but you barely have anything in the cupboards.”

  “That’s because there’s very little reason to cook anymore,” I answered, walking to the door. “Stay put. I’ll be back soon.”

  “Where are you going?”

  I ignored him and strode several doors down to Joel’s room. Not trusting Jamie being on his own, I quickly grabbed what I needed from my son’s drawers.

  “What’s that?” he asked. In the short time, I’d left him alone, he had put back on the jeans shorts from last night.

  “I thought I told you to stay put,” I replied with a scowl. “Get that thing off and put these on.”

  He took the sweats and T-shirt from me, staring at them in disdain. “These are Joel’s junk, and they’re sooooo plain. He has no taste whatsoever.”

  “Good. Now get dressed. We’re about to go across to the clubhouse for breakfast, and there’s no way I’m letting you near my men with your ass cheeks hanging out, boy.”

  His sigh was exaggerated, but at least he reached for the snap of his shorts and undid them. “As if they didn’t already see me last night, Daddy Grimm. I’m sure they must have some form of self-control.”

  “Must I remind you what happened just some minutes ago?”

  His face paled, and I swore under my breath as I pulled him to me. “Did he scare you bad?”

  “A little,” he answered honestly. “He was trying to-to, but then Booker stopped him.”

  “And for that, I owe him my life,” I murmured. “If he’d gone further with you, Jamie, I would have killed the son of a bitch. Despite what he did, we don’t condone the use of force against our own. Whatever man or woman we bring here to the clubhouse chose to come with us.”

  He went up on tiptoes and pressed a kiss to my beard. “I believe you. Now let’s go eat. You wore me out last night.”

  Chapter Nine

  Jamie

  I’d always been fascinated by the clubhouse Joel and I had been forbidden from visiting while we were growing up. Grimm had by no means restricted us to the inside of his house, but he had clearly outlined our parameters, and the clubhouse had been a definite no. Not even I had been brave enough to try to sneak in.

  I drew closer to Grimm’s large frame beside me as we crossed the vast expanse of land between the great house and the clubhouse. I was almost running just to keep up with him. His strides were so long in comparison to each of mine, but he must have realized without me saying anything. They got smaller, and I was able to catch up to him.

  “We take our meals in the clubhouse,” he told me. “As a club, we’re quite close, and we like to keep traditions. Mealtime is one of those times we can forget about everything and horse around.”

  “You horse around?” I quipped, almost giving myself a crick in the neck to glance up at him. “I can’t see that happening.”

  He frowned down at me. “You sass me in front of my men, Jamie, and I’ll make today’s spanking seem like a caress.”

  I gulped. Spanking hurt. Not fun at all, as I had envisioned. Some sick, twisted, sadistic part of me enjoyed the pain, but I wasn’t that dumb. I would never insult him or belittle him in front of his men. Hell, I wouldn’t even do it when we were alone. If I ever said anything mean to him, it would be a joke.

  Except for my dad, I respected Grimm more than anyone else in the world.

  “I’d never do that,” I assured him. “Contrary to what you may believe, I’m a very good boy. Didn’t Joel tell you about my awesome grades and awards throughout med school?”

  “He did, which begs the question, why are you here, Half-Way?”

  “You already know,” I answered.

  I was distracted from pushing the matter when we neared the rectangular porch of the clubhouse and I found three men wearing the Reapers colors smoking pot. They watched us openly, silently, and although I was with Grimm, it didn’t stop a shiver from running down my spine. I wouldn’t want to meet these guys alone in the dark. They made no effort to hide their interest when they saw me. I had completely forgotten that a majority of the Reapers was gay and didn’t fit anywhere else.

  “Hey, Grimm, you bringing us fresh meat?” the one with the sides of his head shaven and tattooed asked. He held a lighter in his hand absentmindedly flicking it on and off. I stared at him, almost missing the step going up the short flight to the porch. He was a good-looking guy in his thirties or thereabout, his bare ripped chest covered in tattoos. His cocky smirk grew when he noticed me observing him.

  Grimm caught my arm before I could stumble back down the steps.

  “Sorry, Mort, not this time,” he answered. “This one is off-limits.”

  “Damn. Just when you’ve found a looker too.”

  I preened under the compliment and shot a grin their way. A praise was a praise regardless of who it came from. My little attention-whorish heart wouldn’t let the compliment go unnoticed.

  “Lucky bastard always finds the pretty ones,” the guy he’d called Mort commented while his friends looked on. “By the way, just a heads-up that the Club’s C is inside.”

  Whatever the hell kind of code they were speaking in, Grimm slowed down and scowled hard enough to spark my curiosity.

  “What’s the Club’s C?” I asked, and Mort laughed without answering.

  “Nothing to be worried about,” Grimm answered, his hand at the small of my back urging me through the open doors of the clubhouse.

  “Hmm. Now I feel I should be worried.”

  He stopped right there in the hall, letting the door swing shut as he gripped my jaw. I was surprised he looked so serious.

  “Look, Jamie, whatever’s happened between me and anybody, it has nothing to do with us. You can’t go crazy on everyone like you did with Raúl last night.”

  I scowled up at him, my mood completely shattered at the reminder of that jackass. “I know that, but it doesn’t mean I want to be reminded about it anyway.”

  “Well, you’ve got to grin and bear it, cupcake, because I’m never going to sugarcoat my actions, especially from you. I’ve fucked just about everything on two legs you’ll meet in this club. It’s what we do, and I’m not going to apologize for it.”

  Grin and bear it, he’d said? I could do exactly that, even when there was an ache in my heart that he’d been so free with everyone while I’d waited for him.

  “I have just one question,” I said as laughter drifted to us from the interior of the clubhouse.

  “What is it?”

  “Last night,” I answered, staring directly at him, although I didn’t believe he would ever lie to me. “It meant something to you, right?”

  His response was to pull me to him and kiss me hard. H
is lips gentled on mine, tongue sneaking into my mouth as he deepened the kiss. Forgetting what I was worried about, I sighed and leaned into him, giving in. It didn’t matter if he’d fucked everyone in Smoky Vale. This—what we had between us—was different for both of us.

  When he released my lips, I clung to his shirt, breathing hard, completely disoriented. My dick throbbed, and now I wished we were back inside his bedroom instead of food hunting. I wanted him again. Maybe this time on his knees like he had wanted last night.

  “Let’s just say there’s only one guy under this roof I’ve let fuck me in the ass.”

  How utterly unromantic of a thing to say, but it totally worked. I beamed at him, allowing him to lead me into a large mess hall. The first thing that caught my eye was a cloth draped from one wall with a print of the Grimm Reaper and scythe. On either side of the cloth were framed photos on the wall. Since I spotted one of Grimm’s father, I could only assume they were images of Reapers who had fallen along the way.

  My eyes shifted to the long table centered in the room. Apart from that long table, which could easily seat thirty men, there was a smaller one in the far corner to the left. Two women, one around my age and another possibly in her thirties, sat at the smaller table. Their companion was a guy who didn’t look old enough to be out of high school, but he had to be. Grimm would never have a minor in the club. He had god-awful red hair, and his skin so pale I couldn’t imagine him out in the sun. The shirt he wore was sleeveless and transparent.

  Grimm completely ignored the smaller table, and I tried to do the same, but I could feel the freckled-face guy watching us. Rather, watching Grimm. My stomach turned nauseous, and it was caused by more than hunger.

  Grimm and I hadn’t really talked about what “us” meant, but I couldn’t just blurt it out and ask him if he was still going to fuck other guys now that we were together.

  Relieved to find a familiar face at the long table, I took the seat Grimm indicated beside Booker, who was chatting to a slender guy. His blond curls were messy on top of his head, but what drew my attention was his neck covered in tattoos. At the other end of the table were a few other men who didn’t interest me enough to give them more than a cursory glance. A couple of the faces were familiar.

  “Stay,” Grimm said, pushing the neck of my borrowed shirt back up my slim shoulder. I hadn’t even been aware the material had slipped. “I’ll go rustle us up some grub.” He turned to his right-hand man without waiting for my answer. “Keep an eye on him, will you?”

  “Well, damn, Grimm, you shouldn’t have brought him here,” Booker muttered.

  “The sooner everyone gets used to him, the better,” Grimm replied and walked away. I followed his frame with my eyes, admiring the broad shoulders and the way his ass filled out his jeans.

  Oh man, I had tapped that ass last night.

  “It’s impolite to drool at the table.”

  At the unfamiliar voice, I glanced toward Booker’s companion. He smiled at me in amusement, which was a welcome change from Booker’s scowl.

  “Well, can you blame me?” I asked, grinning at him. “Who can help looking at that?”

  He nodded. “I agree. Grimm’s got a firm ass on him.”

  My grin changed into a glower, and I turned to Booker. “Don’t you mind your boyfriend looking at Grimm’s ass?”

  “Boyfriend!” The guy winked at Booker. “If only he’d get that lucky. I won’t let him anywhere near the merchandise. Look at how grumpy he is. I’m afraid he wouldn’t know how to handle with care.”

  I laughed, delighted at how uncomfortable we both made Booker. I long suspected he was the one who’d trailed Joel and me when we were younger, informing Grimm of all the trouble we’d gotten into.

  “Poor Booker,” I said and stretched my hand out to his friend. “I’m Jamie, and Grimm’s mine.”

  “I’m Zak, and Booker is so not mine.” He shook my hand. “You can take him too if you want.”

  “For fuck’s sake, kid,” Booker stated. “Don’t add fuel to his fire. How are you?”

  I glanced down at the table, uncomfortable with Booker reminding me of this morning’s assault. “I’m fine.”

  “I see you’re sitting, so Grimm must not have spanked you hard enough. I heard you hollering from outside.”

  “I was not,” I protested, my face heating up. My butt did hurt, but I wasn’t going to admit that to him.

  “Wait, that was you?” Zak barked out a laugh. “The last time I heard someone cry that much was Boy Blu when he had his guts spilled and was trying to stuff them back in.”

  My mouth fell open as I stared at him laughing. I joined in, my laugh too high-pitched even for me, but if I didn’t laugh, I would doom myself to never fitting in. I knew all about spilled guts, and it sure wasn’t funny.

  “Shut up, Zak.” Booker must have kicked him under the table because Zak jumped, his knee hitting the underside of the table.

  I was about to ask them if they were together or just engaging in the horsing around Grimm had mentioned when a shadow fell over us. I glanced up at the meanest-looking guy I’d come across yet. Tall and broad, his long beard was nothing like Grimm’s but could use some grooming. He wore only his cut, his bare arms covered in skull sleeves. The jacket was open, showing off his potbelly and the patches of hair that adorned his skin, running down to the waistband of his jeans. I shuddered and quickly averted my eyes.

  “Well, well, what is he doing here?” he barked out.

  “You’ve got a problem, Clem?”

  Grimm’s voice made me jump. When did he get here? For a big guy, he sure moved with stealth. He placed a tray before me, but I couldn’t even check out what he had brought me to eat. The tension in the room had grown thick, and I hated I had no idea why.

  “You could say that,” Clem answered, pointing at me. “You taking in strays now and kicking out one of your own? I didn’t know we had a change of rule. Last time I checked, only members ate at this table. Ho’s and club sluts sit in the corner.”

  Oh, that’s why those three are in the corner? The mess hall had fallen quiet. Tension vibrated in Grimm’s body. Only one morning after we’d had sex and already I was causing him problems. No wonder he had tried his damnedest to avoid me.

  Feeling guilty, I rose to my feet. “That’s fine,” I said, all chirpy, and grabbed my tray. “Booker and Zak were being sweet enough to make me gag anyway. Just let me know when you’re ready to leave, Daddy Grimm.”

  “Jamie—”

  Booker’s hand on Grimm’s wrist halted whatever he was about to say. They exchanged a look that made me curious as to what they were communicating with their eyes. Whatever secretive message they shared, Grimm turned to where I had paused uncertainly at him saying my name. I was in a limbo of what to do. Move on or sit.

  Grimm nodded. “Eat fast. I want to take you home so you can get some shut-eye before work.”

  Chapter Ten

  Grimm

  Hands doubled into fists, I wanted to launch across the table and bloody Clem’s smirking face. It didn’t matter that Booker was right. With just a look, he’d reminded me that we had rules in place for a reason, and even though I didn’t like it, Clem had a point. Only members who pledged as Reapers sat at our table to dine. It wasn’t a right but a privilege of wearing our colors.

  “Anything else you want to say to me, Clem?” I asked, dropping my tray to the table.

  “Nope, we’re all good,” the fucker answered, quite pleased with himself. “Was just checking we hadn’t changed the rules or something.” He turned to go but stopped and added over his shoulder, “By the way, if you ask me, it was quite the mistake you made letting Slim go. He’s more of an asset than any ass you haul to bed.”

  “It’s a damn good thing you’re not the president here, isn’t it, Clem?” I asked. “And since I didn’t ask you for your opinion, you might want to tread lightly.”

  His shoulders straightened, and his nostrils flared. “Are you threate
ning me?”

  I shrugged and took the seat Jamie had abandoned. “Take it whichever way you want to. If you’re of a mind to do more than run your mouth, give me a holler.”

  The other man stalked off, realizing I was finished speaking with him. The tension didn’t leave my shoulders at all, though. These days whenever I ran into the man, we butted heads, and I sensed a déjà vu of my conflict with Gunner.

  Except Gunner’s betrayal had hit deep. Clem’s was a long time in the making.

  “You need to watch your back around that one, Grimm,” Zak stated in a low tone as he got to his feet.

  “I’ve got it,” I told him, returning my gaze to Jamie. He had apparently introduced himself and was chatting to the other three people around the table. Even Cass, who was usually quiet unless he was being fucked, was smiling at Jamie.

  “Do you really, Grimm?” Booker asked me in the same low tone Zak had. “Clem’s looking to stir up trouble. You’ve known that for a while now. He’s always been sweet on Slim, and since you kicked him out of town, there’s bound to be even more bad blood between you and Clem.”

  “Whenever he’s ready, Booker, I’m ready. I’m not sitting where I am today because I’m afraid to get my hands dirty.”

  “I know that, but I don’t trust Clem,” he insisted. “That piece of shit would stab you in the back when you’re not looking and run. He’s been getting bolder, trying to assert himself. He’s been making the rounds, Grimm, talking to the men.”

  I shoveled grits into my mouth and glared at Booker. “Our men are loyal, so I’m not worried about that. Any man who listens to Clem didn’t really belong in the club in the first place. You shouldn’t have intervened. Jamie doesn’t belong in that corner.”

  “That’s the problem, Grimm. Clem’s nothing but trouble. Still, he knows exactly where to pick the trouble. He wasn’t wrong, and you know it. By the laws of our club, Jamie belongs exactly where he’s sitting. He’s not a member.”