Free Lock and Key by Cat Porter

beer. Later, Boner gave me a quick hug and kiss on the cheek good night in my doorway. Dig only stared at me, his jaw set.
    “Dig? What is it?” I asked.
    “Hmm? Nothing, baby.” His hand reached out, and his knuckles stroked my cheek. My breath snagged. He had never called me “baby” before. I was always “Peanut” or “Little Sister.”
    “Lock up, okay?” he said softly.
    “Yeah, okay,” I said. He turned and strode down the front walkway. I closed the door, bolted it, and peeked through the curtain to watch them get on their bikes. Boner waved at me. Dig busied himself with his bike. Suddenly their engines exploded, and they zoomed away into the night.
    But now those happy thoughts couldn’t keep me from gagging when Vig’s tongue slicked over my neck. Dig’s eyes blazed.
    I had to do something to flip the balance. I didn’t want to be responsible for some kind of battle or war between two bike clubs already in a tenuous truce. Pete’s voice infiltrated my brain: “Always be respectful and polite with these guys, and they’ll show you the same. Don’t ever sass them, or you’re asking for it.”
    Somehow, I didn’t think respectful and polite was going to save my ass right now or defuse the situation. By now our little standoff had attracted a crowd of onlookers.
    My hands pushed against Vig’s chest. “Hey, excuse me, but I’m Dig’s woman! We got into a major blowout last week, and I took off,” I said. “Of course he’s been banging everything in sight! He does it to get back at me, like all the other times we’ve broken up. He’s a man-whore and I’m a mouthy bitch, but I’m back now, and I’d like to fuck my man tonight, show him what he’s been missing, if that’s alright with you?” I gulped in air and grimaced at Vig.
    Vig looked at me as if I was an alien who had just landed on Earth.
    “Sorry,” I said. “But I don’t think he’d like it if we fucked right now, do you?”
    Laughter and snickers rose around us. Vig cursed under his breath and pulled on me again. My head twisted towards Dig. His eyes glittered over me, his chin high.
    “You heard her, man,” Dig said, his voice cold and hard like iron. “Get your hands off my property, and there won’t be any trouble.”
    Holy crap, he called me his “property” in front of everybody. That was quite a social step up from a mere “bitch” in biker-speak.
    “You wait one more second and there’s gonna be a shit storm, motherfucker,” said Wreck. My eyes shifted in the direction of his voice. Wreck was the One-Eyed Jack’s Road Captain and one of Dig and Boner’s closest friends at the club. He was a real old time 1%’er who had been a club member since his teens.
    “Vig!” a rough voice cut through the crowd. A stocky, burly man who had to be in his early fifties glared fireballs at our little clusterfuck. My eyes went to the patches on his worn-out cut. It was Cowboy, the Demon Seed president.
    Not good.
    Vig cursed under his breath, and shoved me hard into Dig with a grunt. I immediately flung my arms around Dig’s torso and planted juicy kisses on his pecs over his tight grey t-shirt.
    “I’m sorry baby, it’s all my fault,” I stage whispered for effect. Dig’s arm slammed me against his body, his hand slid down my back. I took the opportunity to throw my arms around his neck, hop up and hook my legs around his waist. His hand landed over my ass under my short cotton skirt and rubbed my curvy flesh over the thin fabric of my pink panties that, I was sure, were now plainly visible to our audience.
    After my harsh imprisonment by Vig’s foul body, I sank into Dig and reveled in the sensation of his hands on my flesh and his masculine spicy scent. His touch and smell became my elixir of life in that moment of sheer relief. My fingers raked through Dig’s soft caramel hair, and I nuzzled his neck and face, doing my best impression of a property chick horny for her man. I loudly murmured sweet skanky