door unlocked fast enough. Once I slammed the door closed behind us we ripped our clothes off, and I finally got my mouth and hands all over her. And it was sensational.
Then I got inside her, and I was… gone.
I looked Grace in the eyes and watched her come. She had sparked a curiosity in me and, more importantly, a particular desire that I thought had faded a long, long time ago.
The desire to feel.
Her eyes had been wide open with everything I gave her as if it were new, different. The mere fact that she was so eager for me drove me insane, made my heart race, and my dick pound. I didn’t want to stop. She was eager, but not rabid or showing off like some women around the club get when they’re desperate to have you and want to show you how good it can be with them if you keep tapping their ass. No, that wasn’t Grace.
She was enjoying it, and I had a feeling she hadn’t let go like that in a long time. And I was right. She was relaxed, happy to be in that crap motel room with me, touching me, kissing me, letting me do all sorts of shit to her while she clung to me and moaned out my name over and over again. Somehow that genuineness loosened the slab of cement inside my chest.
The next morning when I woke up alone I got pissed that she had cut out on me without a word. Not just because it was the first time that had happened to me or I wanted another go, but because I actually liked her.
Imagine that?
Disappointment gnawed at me. I didn’t even find out what her last name was, where she was headed, what the hell she was doing in South Dakota, for fuck’s sake. All I had were her black lace panties that had gotten gnarled up in my jeans on the floor.
Did I have to throw the memory of us in the pile with all my other hookups? I didn’t want to. It stung, and it pissed me off that it stung. Grace didn’t belong there with all those nameless, faceless, forgotten women, and she certainly didn’t fit there. I wasn’t sure where she fit, but I knew for certain not there.
The feel of her soft skin still burned all over me. I inhaled the musky scent of our sex on the sheets mixed with faint traces of her heady perfume. I lay still taking it all in on that creaky motel bed as the sun showed the first signs of morning. I had checked my watch. Shit, she could have crossed into Wyoming by now for all I know. I got dressed, shoved her panties in my pocket, and left.
A couple hours later when I dragged my ass back to the clubhouse to check in with Jump, I passed the photo wall in the main room, and as usual my eyes instinctively went to the shot of Dig and his wife.
I stopped dead in my tracks.
Those eyes. That smile.
It was her.
Grace was Little Sister. She was Dig’s Old Lady from a lifetime ago.
In the past fifteen years, Sister had literally not been heard from again. Not even from Alicia who had been her close friend. She must be back in town to see her sister. That gave me a spark of hope.
Now that spark of hope just exploded into fireworks right here in the middle of a full clubhouse.
“So what’s so great about her? I don’t get it,” Heather muttered, twisting a lock of her brassy red hair between her fingers.
Goddammit.
Grace had seen me getting blown by Heather earlier when she passed us in the hallway with Junk. The blood backed up in my veins. I peeled Heather off of me and moved forward. The bitch squealed from somewhere behind me.
“Lock, what the fuck?”
I didn’t bother looking back at her, but judging from her shriek, I was sure steam was coming out of her ears.
Men jostled past me to greet Grace. The brothers she had never met—Bear, Kicker, Peck, Dready shook her hand. The men she obviously knew from the old days like Clip, Willy, and Boner stayed close to her.
She was here. My dream come true.
Heather’s long fingernails dug into my arm. “Hey, what the hell’s wrong with you?” Her green eyes flared at me.
What a fucking disaster.
Heather hadn’t let up for months.
Then I got inside her, and I was… gone.
I looked Grace in the eyes and watched her come. She had sparked a curiosity in me and, more importantly, a particular desire that I thought had faded a long, long time ago.
The desire to feel.
Her eyes had been wide open with everything I gave her as if it were new, different. The mere fact that she was so eager for me drove me insane, made my heart race, and my dick pound. I didn’t want to stop. She was eager, but not rabid or showing off like some women around the club get when they’re desperate to have you and want to show you how good it can be with them if you keep tapping their ass. No, that wasn’t Grace.
She was enjoying it, and I had a feeling she hadn’t let go like that in a long time. And I was right. She was relaxed, happy to be in that crap motel room with me, touching me, kissing me, letting me do all sorts of shit to her while she clung to me and moaned out my name over and over again. Somehow that genuineness loosened the slab of cement inside my chest.
The next morning when I woke up alone I got pissed that she had cut out on me without a word. Not just because it was the first time that had happened to me or I wanted another go, but because I actually liked her.
Imagine that?
Disappointment gnawed at me. I didn’t even find out what her last name was, where she was headed, what the hell she was doing in South Dakota, for fuck’s sake. All I had were her black lace panties that had gotten gnarled up in my jeans on the floor.
Did I have to throw the memory of us in the pile with all my other hookups? I didn’t want to. It stung, and it pissed me off that it stung. Grace didn’t belong there with all those nameless, faceless, forgotten women, and she certainly didn’t fit there. I wasn’t sure where she fit, but I knew for certain not there.
The feel of her soft skin still burned all over me. I inhaled the musky scent of our sex on the sheets mixed with faint traces of her heady perfume. I lay still taking it all in on that creaky motel bed as the sun showed the first signs of morning. I had checked my watch. Shit, she could have crossed into Wyoming by now for all I know. I got dressed, shoved her panties in my pocket, and left.
A couple hours later when I dragged my ass back to the clubhouse to check in with Jump, I passed the photo wall in the main room, and as usual my eyes instinctively went to the shot of Dig and his wife.
I stopped dead in my tracks.
Those eyes. That smile.
It was her.
Grace was Little Sister. She was Dig’s Old Lady from a lifetime ago.
In the past fifteen years, Sister had literally not been heard from again. Not even from Alicia who had been her close friend. She must be back in town to see her sister. That gave me a spark of hope.
Now that spark of hope just exploded into fireworks right here in the middle of a full clubhouse.
“So what’s so great about her? I don’t get it,” Heather muttered, twisting a lock of her brassy red hair between her fingers.
Goddammit.
Grace had seen me getting blown by Heather earlier when she passed us in the hallway with Junk. The blood backed up in my veins. I peeled Heather off of me and moved forward. The bitch squealed from somewhere behind me.
“Lock, what the fuck?”
I didn’t bother looking back at her, but judging from her shriek, I was sure steam was coming out of her ears.
Men jostled past me to greet Grace. The brothers she had never met—Bear, Kicker, Peck, Dready shook her hand. The men she obviously knew from the old days like Clip, Willy, and Boner stayed close to her.
She was here. My dream come true.
Heather’s long fingernails dug into my arm. “Hey, what the hell’s wrong with you?” Her green eyes flared at me.
What a fucking disaster.
Heather hadn’t let up for months.
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