I am that gash in her soul. Once I loved Grace, really loved her. And she loved me, and it was so fucking beautiful. Once. That pendulum swings to and fro. We’re here, and then we’re — No. How can that rare beautiful be rendered irrelevant, intangible when I still feel so damn much? Does all that energy, that glory, that significance simply dissolve? Turn to smoke? To nothing? It can’t. It just can’t. Are the moments that shape us absolutely random? Is time not fluid? I made promises to them, to her. Especially to her. Promises I still burn to keep.
About the Lock & Key Series:
Lock & Key (Lock & Key #1)
I suppose some of us have to get really dirty before we can become truly clean. I was allegedly South Dakota’s most famous old lady. Sixteen years ago I survived my old man’s murder Never again. Never again will I surrender my heart. Never again will I sacrifice to the Club. But that all changed in one night. I came home and crashed into him, and my past and present blew up in my face. Both of us lonely, running on empty, and unwilling to admit it. Until now. Now I feel things I’d forgotten about, want things I’d cut out of my insides. Love not only stings when you lose it, when it’s ripped away from you. When it first sinks its teeth in you, it can cut just as raw and sting just as deep. I’d forgotten that. Who holds the keys to betrayal? To suspicion? To trust? To brotherhood? To family? To redemption and a bleeding heart? Right now, I just might. Warning: This work of fiction contains graphic language, sex, and material some readers may find objectionable.
RANDOM & RARE by Cat Porter ©2015
“Hey you.” Lissa’s voice piped up behind me stopping me in my tracks.
“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.”
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.
Grace inclined her head. “Who are you?” she slowly uttered the words.
Oh, she wasn’t asking for Lissa’s name. She was asking a deeper metaphysical question.
“And I don’t care,” Grace practically snarled. “This is my old man. He’s not yours. Not yours to touch, 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?”
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.
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.
About the Author:
Cat Porter was born and raised in New York City, but also spent a few years in Europe and Texas along the way. As an introverted, only child, she had very big, but very secret dreams for herself. She graduated from Vassar College, was a struggling actress, an art gallery girl, special events planner, freelance writer, restaurant hostess and had all sorts of other crazy jobs all hours of the day and night to help make her dreams come true. She has two children’s books traditionally published under her maiden name. She now lives in Athens, Greece with her husband and three children, and freaks out regularly and still daydreams way too much. She is addicted to the History Channel, her iPad, her husband’s homemade red wine, really dark chocolate, and her Nespresso coffee machine. Writing keeps her somewhat sane, extremely happy, and a productive member of society.
a Rafflecopter giveaway