Page 6

Locke

I slept for shit last night. Barely any sleep at all. My mind was racing like it usually does. I couldn’t stop the thoughts of her and what happened to us all those years ago. I couldn’t shake them away, no matter how hard I tried.

I know I should have been a better man back then and done things differently, but I didn’t. And now I suffer the consequences of my actions. I deal with the aftermath of what I did five years ago. Time doesn’t heal all wounds, and this is one I don’t think will ever heal.

I couldn’t sleep so I watched some football. I tried to drown out the memories, but nothing worked. Just when I finally dozed off the alarm was blaring. I couldn’t believe it was fucking Kiki standing there in shorts that showed her ass, and what a nice fucking ass that is.

Gunner didn’t tell me she was staying here, but that should have been obvious. She made comments about not staying with him or Hodge at their houses. And there she was. Tiny shorts and all.

It must have slipped Gunner’s mind to tell her there was a little trick to getting the alarm to shut off because she was all kinds of frazzled. That didn’t stop her from mouthing off at me, though. And it didn’t stop me from showing her who the boss is. Or at least that’s what I thought I was doing.

When her little hand wrapped around my cock I thought I was going to die. That fucker hasn’t been that hard in years, and she even managed to get a slight moan from me. I held it back, though, knowing I couldn’t mess with her. That’s Gunner’s daughter, for fuck’s sake. If he didn’t kill me, Hodge would.

I throw my legs over the side of the bed and grab my jeans, pulling them on before shoving my feet into my socks and boots. I have to stop thinking about her in those little ass shorts, or my cock is going to spring to life once more.

I head out of my room and down the hall to the kitchen. No one is out here just yet so I grab the stuff I need to make some eggs and sausage. That’s the only thing I know how to cook. I make a little extra, knowing Kiki is here and will probably be hungry when she gets up. Then I shake my goddamn head.

“Cookin’ for a woman like a whipped puppy,” I mumble to myself. I’ve never in my life cooked for a woman, so why the hell am I doing it now? Shaking my head once more, I plate my food, walk to the corner of the island, and sit down to eat. That’s when the door opens, and Kiki walks in. I groan at the sight of her. She’s wearing a t-shirt that barely covers anything. I can see the bottom of her ass cheeks as she pulls the fridge open and peers inside. Fuck, if was any other man, I would bend her over and fuck her right here and now.

She grabs the juice out of the fridge and turns to grab a glass when her eyes find mine. Her eyes travel over me, taking me in as my cock stirs in my pants. That fucker seems to have a thing for her.

“Don’t you own a shirt?” she asks as she turns to pour two glasses of juice. Kiki slides one across the counter to me and takes a sip from the other.

“Don’t you own a shirt that covers your ass?”

“I happen to like sleeping like this.”

“And I like to walk around without a shirt. We’re even. Made some extra if you’re hungry,” I tell her as I bring the glass to my lips and take a drink.

“Wait. You can cook? I thought you could only fuck and ride,” she teases with a slight laugh. I smirk at her. I bet that’s what she thought. I finish off my food and drink and shove off the stool, placing my things in the sink before stepping into her space. Then I lean in close and whisper, “I can do a whole lot more than that, baby.” I don’t miss the little shiver that runs through her body or the way she turns her head to look at me. I don’t miss the way she licks her lips like she wants to fucking taste me right here and now. Too bad I can’t let her.

With that, I pull away and walk out of the kitchen and head out the side door. I walk into the garage, where I’ve been tinkering with some bikes lately to try and keep my head on straight.

I’m not out here long when I hear the rumble of bikes. I glance over my shoulder and see some of the guys pulling in and parking their bikes before walking toward me.

“How was the run?”

“Shit brother. It was pure shit. We ran into an old friend in Georgia we didn’t expect to see. It was a fuckin’ shit show.”

“No shit? Who was it?”

“Old club member. Spike. He gave us hell, fuckin’ up club business and shit, but we gave it right back. He finally just split and got the hell out of our way,” Jonny says.

“Spike?”

“Yeah. The one and only.”

“Kiki’s ex?”

“Yeah, that’s him. Seems his club is doin’ shit all over the east coast. Never thought he would interfere with what we have goin’, but I can tell you Prez isn’t gonna be happy about this shit.”

“Not even a little.” I watch the guys as they walk away and head inside. I continue to work on the bike and lose track of time. By the time I look up again I notice it’s time for lunch.

At least I passed the time without thinking about shit. I shove away from the bike I was working on and wash my hands before wiping the sweat from my forehead. Then I head back inside, grabbing one of my shirts on the way, and that’s when it hits me, and I grin like a goddamn fool.

“Hey, Duke? You smell that?”

“Goddamn right, I do. Tracey’s here,” he says with a smile. Tracey is Jonny’s old lady and one hell of a cook. She comes by every once in a while to feed us bastards and to catch up.

“That means we’re eatin’ good today, brother.”

“Goddamn right we are.” He makes a beeline for the kitchen, and I’m not far behind him. We don’t often have home-cooked meals around here when ordering out is easier.

I walk into the kitchen and stop dead in my tracks when I see it isn’t Tracey. It’s Kiki. She’s standing at the stove, and fuck, her ass looks delicious in those little shorts she has on.

I turn my head to see Tracey sitting on the counter, swinging her legs and smiling.

“Hey, you. Been too long, darlin’.” I walk over and press a kiss to her cheek as she beams up at me.

“Locke. I know it has. How have you been? I know I’m slacking around here lately.”

“I’m good, darlin’. Not much goin’ on around here lately. You know how it is.”

“So you do own a shirt?” Kiki looks at me over her shoulder and smiles.

“Imagine that. I see you actually own shorts, too.”

“Imagine that,” she mimics with a smile on her face.

“Uhh, you two okay?” Tracey asks as she looks between us. Kiki has gone back to cooking, so her eyes are glued to me. I nod my head when she laughs and jumps off the counter. “Okay then,” she laughs as she walks out of the kitchen.

“So you can cook?”

“I can do a lot of things,” she mimics what I said the other night. I chuckle when she turns around and holds a piece of chicken out to me.

“Try it,” she says, but I shake my head. She looks confused for a second, but then I open my mouth and wait. She walks over, a little slower than usual, and places it in my mouth. I close my mouth around her fingers and suck until her breath catches in her throat. Her cheeks turn pink before she pulls her fingers away from my lips and steps back to the stove.

I check out her ass in those little shorts once more before turning, leaving her to get back to work. When I step into the main room, it’s filled with the guys.

“I smell home cookin’. Tracey here?” Gunner asks as he smiles. I shake my head as Kiki walks out of the kitchen with two plates of chicken.

“She’s here, but she didn’t cook. Kiki did,” I tell him. His eyes shoot to his daughter, and she smiles at him.

“Didn’t know you could cook.”

“Well, I can, and I hope you like it,” she says as I pile my plate full. The other guys follow suit as Kiki grabs a piece of chicken herself and brings it to her lips. I eat in silence but never take my eyes off her.

She knows I’m staring. She has to know.

“What?” she asks.

“Nothin’. Thanks for lunch,” I tell her, needing to get the hell away from her. I can’t be this close to her. I can’t fucking look at her lips and not picture them around my cock. Fuck, that motherfucker stirs in my jeans again, and I know it’s time to go. I shove away from the table and walk away until I hear Gunner call for me.

“Hey, Locke. Come here a minute.” I turn and see him climbing the stairs to his office and follow behind him.

“What’s up?”

“Take a look at this.” He passes me the photo he has in his hand. I take it and look at it, not recognizing the man.

“Who’s this?”

“Spike. The one Kiki ran off with to New York. Used to be one of us,” he replies.

“What’s this about, Prez?”

“The guys crossed him in Georgia runnin’ coke. He gave them a little hell. He’s close. Too close, and I don’t like it. She came back here, left him for a reason, Locke.”

“You’re worried he’s comin’ back for her?” He sighs and runs his hand through his hair.

“I don’t know, brother. What I do know is he isn’t gettin’ near her again. I will see him dead before that happens.”

“You’re really worried about this?”

“Yeah, I am. She didn’t just get bored with him, Locke. Somethin’ happened.”

“Don’t worry, Gunner. That motherfucker won’t get near your girl.” Something flares in my chest. Anger? Is that what this is? Anger that some motherfucker may try to come near her? I won’t let that shit happen.

“Agreed.”