Splice nearly broke his neck, whipping his head around to scowl at a grinning Mouse. He was going to bury the little shit in a shallow grave for suggesting that.
“Not letting my Lisa sing with that pretty boy.”
Mouse found him hilarious. “Why not? You’re as bad as Ruin. They’d sound good together. And Bash has his nurse; he ain’t gonna look at your chanting witch.”
“Not gonna happen, and don’t you dare suggest it either, or we won’t babysit again.”
Mouse lifted his hands in surrender.
Right after Mouse was awarded his club patch as a full brother over a year ago, he waited until a church meeting to let them know he was seeing a guy—no one had ever suspected him to be bisexual since he’d been married early on and had two kids—he declared that if that were going to be a problem for the MC, he would leave. Little idiot, no one cared who the fuck he was sleeping with.
Now, when they found outwhoit was, that was a different story.
A biker and a straight-laced, plays-by-the-book suit shouldn’t work at all.
But more than a year later, they were still going strong.
People might say he and Lisa shouldn’t work, but in Splice’s eyes, those people could go fuck a cactus. No one else on Earth was a better match for Lisa than Splice.
He only had to look at her for his veins to burn with pure love.
If he had to nail down his only vocation, it wouldn’t even be making money anymore. It was making his woman content, happy, fulfilled with orgasms, and always supplied with chocolate. (her one weakness)
Sure, there were days he pissed her off. He was still a man. That came with his DNA, apparently, but he’d move universes like chess pieces to make it right between them.
* * *
The night Lisa had taken an emergency job, and Splice had driven her there on the back of his bike, the police chief’s face was a picture when he saw Splice pull up in the private port to his mansion and help Lisa down. The police chief was a well-known hater of the Diablos, and Splice watched the confusion cross his eyes, then his lip curled at the edge.
“You know him?” he questioned Lisa, her hand still held in Splice’s as he hooked up her half-helmet with his free hand.
Sensing the animosity from the cop, he couldn’t have loved Lisa more as she arched her chin and asked, “He’s my boyfriend. Is there a problem? I came to do you a favor, Samuel. We were in the middle of eating dinner when you called.”
FuckingSamuel, his woman didn’t even use his official title. He loved every inch of her. Splice smirked and ran his hand down her spine possessively, loving being claimed by her.
“No, no problem,” the cop grimaced, conceding.
“I’ll wait right here for you, sweetheart.” He said, perching his ass on the bike seat, crossing his legs at the ankles.
“Okay, I won’t be long,” and she kissed him before following the cop into his mansion.
It was less than an hour before she emerged and jogged down the steps toward him.
“All finished?”
“Yep,” she answered, “Let’s get home; I have a fancy for dessert.” She said, and the hoarse way her voice turned, Splice knew she wasn’t talking about the cake in the fridge. Splice’s dick recognized all Lisa’s distinct tones. “How fast can you drive the bike, Ryan?” She smiled up at him when he helped, clipping her helmet on. Little tease.
“Look at you, trying to get me to break the law while I’m standing on the sheriff’s land.”
She laughed. “I have a bad boy. I expect him to do bad things.”
The heated growl came right from Splice’s aching torso. “You’ll see how bad I behave when we get home, woman.”
She showed him who was in charge when Lisa had her hand pressed over his crotch for the entire journey, nearly blinding Splice with her building desire.
They barely made it to the couch.
But it was so worth skipping dinner because the hunger Splice had was only satisfied with his mouth between Lisa’s sweet thighs and by following her sweeter orders.
