EPILOGUE
Splice
NINE MONTHS LATER
Wiping sweat from his forehead, Splice sat his ass down on the small wall surrounding his carport and cracked open a cold can of soda after passing an identical can to Mouse, who was parked right next to him.
The summer heat was crippling, and it probably wasn’t the best time for him to build a whole-ass studio, but it was almost completed now.
“Thanks for helping, brother.”
“No problem. You and Lisa had my two hellions the other night so I could go on a date. I appreciate it, especially because I can’t leave those two with sitters anymore for how they behave.” Mouse said, talking about his five-year-old twins.
“They behaved for Lisa.”
Mouse flashed a white-toothed grin. “They loved her, couldn’t stop talking about her.”
Everyone loved Splice’s woman.
Being a territorial, possessive bastard, he didn’t altogether like everyone gravitating toward his woman, especially when he took her to the clubhouse, but more than once she’d sensed his possessiveness and calmed down his twitchy hands by letting him know she loved him best of all.
She loved him best of all.
Was there ever a better sentence he’d heard? He was lucky, that was for sure.
Loved by her was a feeling like no other, and he was determined to hold on to it this time around.
For the last month, Splice had been working on Lisa’s new home studio, so she no longer had to rent out space or commute.
The building now stood only a few feet away from the main house.
It meant she could easily work remotely and wouldn’t have to travel as much now that it was equipped with everything she’d need.
Just a few days back, he’d put the finishing touches to the soundproofing before Primo came in and fitted all the tech stuff.
“This must have cost a pretty penny,” Mouse remarked.
Nearly fifty grand, but Splice would have paid five times that; it was worth it.
Did he mention that he was openly possessive?
He was also clingy as fuck and didn’t mind admitting that he enjoyed being by Lisa’s side and hated the days she traveled for work.
When she’d said she was ready to pull back on traveling out of state—sometimes the country—and would like to have a home studio, he’d jumped into action before his woman could change her mind.
“Worth it.” That was all he remarked, looking at the red brick building. Lisa had been putting the finishing touches to it while he’d lugged around boxes and furniture, after roping in Mouse to help.
He could hear her singing, and he smiled.
“Hey, don’t mind me asking, Splice, but is your old lady doing a witch’s chant?”
Splice nearly choked on the soda. He turned with a chuckle.
“She’s singing in Japanese.”
Mouse’s eyebrows hit his hairline. “Japanese? Okay, follow-up question. Why the fuck is Lisa singing in Japanese?”
“You know she’s a linguist?”
“Yeah. Heard her loads of times talking all that oh-la-la French with Primo.”
“She has about forty-eight different languages in her head, and she has to keep them all fresh. So she uses songs to do that. Keep listening; she’ll switch languages with the next song.”
Yep, when the music in her studio switched to a cheerful tune, he tilted his head and tried to figure out which language it was in. Splice was getting good at figuring them out.
“That’s Korean, I think.”
Mouse chuckled. “How the fuck do you know that?”
With no macho ego where Lisa was concerned, he wouldn’t mind telling his brothers that he sometimes liked to paint her toenails, even drying her hair after a shower.
He’d stroll around one of those candle stores if that were what tickled Lisa’s fancy.
He danced in the snow with her and took long walks, just holding hands and talking.
He especially loved cooking nice food for his woman.
A full year together and being obsessed with Lisa hadn’t waned. He couldn’t see a day when it would.
He’d figured it out pretty early on. Being in love meant making her happy, and that made him happy.
And his Lisa was so ridiculously easy to make happy.
If he came home with her favorite wine or a box of berries, she would attack him with smiles and kisses.
So he shared how he knew.
“Lisa enjoys watching Asian and Turkish dramas, and I end up watching with her. Now I can recognize the different languages. I don’t understand a word, though,” he smirked.
She came out of her woman-cave, as Lisa was calling it, and waved to him. Splice’s stomach muscles clenched seeing that smile on her stunning face. He jutted his chin back, his eyes glued to her tight ass in the jean shorts as she carried on singing.
“It sounds like she’s cursing someone.”
“Could be.” He said proudly.
“I like it,” Mouse said. “She’s great.”
Arching an eyebrow, Splice wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Don’t get too comfortable complimenting my old lady.”
“You jealous fucker.” Laughed Mouse, whacking his shoulder. “I don’t have romantic inclinations toward your woman, Splice. You remember who I’m dating, yeah? He also would be pissed if I looked at your girl. Lisa, sweet as a button, has very little dick for my interests.”
Approaching them, Lisa must have heard, because without missing a step, she said, “Hey, don’t discuss my small dick. It satisfies Ryan just fine.”
Splice nearly choked with laughter as he opened an arm for Lisa to walk into him. Immediately, he got her situated against his ribs, and being her favorite pervert, Splice palmed her ass for a little feel.
“You always give it to me good, sweetheart.”
“I do, don’t I? Don’t diss micro-willies, Mouse; that’s prejudiced.”
“You two are crazy,” smirked Mouse.
Lisa grinned and got up on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on Splice’s chin, then she was off again into the home office.
“You should get her singing with Bash at the next club cookout.”
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 out who it 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.”
Fucking Samuel, 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.
They eventually ate warmed-up food out on the back deck, Lisa sitting on his lap, eating from his fork.
* * *
THREE YEARS LATER
Some friends questioned why Splice and Lisa weren’t married or even living together.