Текст книги "Burning Ember"
Автор книги: Darby Briar
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Текущая страница: 27 (всего у книги 33 страниц)
“So first order of business is we vote. We figure out who sits at the helm,” Dozer affirms and gets nods from everyone.
“Yeah, we do. But before we do. I got somethin’ to say,” Edge states. But he doesn’t move, and he sits and stares at the table. His fists, which are both on the top of the table are bone white. He’s silent for so long, Dozer nudges him and whispers, “E.”
The chapel’s dead silent and brothers start throwing each other what-the-fuck glances. Then Edge blinks and slowly stands. He grabs the collar of his cut and slowly starts to remove it. Now what-the-fuck-is-he-doing flares through every brothers’ eyes.
Even Dozer voices it. “Edge, what the fuck are you doin’?”
Edge removes his cut and respectfully lays it on the table.
Is he saying he’s out?
Jesus. No. Fuck. No.
“Brother,” I rasp. “Don’t.”
“Not what you’re thinkin’,” he replies in a hoarse whisper. He takes off his shirt next and we all get a good fuckin’ look at what the inside’s done to him. I caught a glimpse of it before but it didn’t register at the time. He’s rail thin. Thinner than he looked when he stepped out of the prison gates. But it’s his ribs poking out, mixed with his dead eyes and gaunt face that tell the whole picture. Fuck, he looks like he’s aged ten years, and is recovering from living in a concentration camp.
Edge raises his head and turns around. The entire table reacts. Curses fly, and gasps, and yeah . . . more what-the-fuck’s ring out.
Edge’s clubpiece, his five-year HOC tat that covers his back, like mine does, is in tatters. It’s been sliced, burned—chunks of it are completely gone.
Me and Griz and D are on our feet. To say my stomach’s rioting is an understatement. My fists are at my sides ready to fly, but I’m fucking speechless. I can’t even form words.
“You all need to know,” Edge’s voice no longer sounds like him. It comes out more as a growl, and half-demonic. “That I’m not in the right frame of mind nor can I physically do the shit I need to do to sit at the head of this table. So I don’t want any of you fuckers votin’ me in.”
Finally, shock subsides and fury pushes the words from my mouth. “Who the fuck? We paid for fuckin’ protection!”
He ignores my question and turns. Addressing each member at the table, excluding me, he says, “You vote, you vote for Griz or D.”
“You gonna tell us who?” Goose demands.
“Yeah, when I’m ready and stronger, and when we’re stronger. I’ll tell you and we’ll handle it together. We’ll spill so much blood that we’ll be drowning in it. But for now, I just need time. I got to deal with some of it on my own and get my head right.”
Every brother simply stares at him. Until Griz nods and says, “Okay, brotha. Anything you need.”
Edge meets each brother’s gaze and gets the same around the table. When his gaze lands on me, I stare back.
Revulsion and fury transform and burst into something I can’t handle and can’t control.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. The emotion that hits me is like a tidal wave. A fucking Amtrak train and it’s barreling through me.
Edge sees it. Recognizes the breakdown that’s coming. “We’ll vote in two days. Now everyone out.” When no one moves and I’m a second from losing my shit, he yells, “I said OUT!”
I did this. Oh, fuck. Jesus H. Christ. My failures. My actions. My girl. Sent him to hell. As the brothers trickle out, I fight the ticking bomb in my chest. My gaze takes it all in again. His body, his eyes, his back, and a dam ruptures. I fall forward, head in hands on the table as I absolutely lose my shit. Great giant sobs rack my chest. We paid, but I don’t need Edge to tell me . . . he had no protection. He had no one at his back. No one making sure he came out alive. I can only imagine what he endured.
Oh fuck.
Moisture coats my hands. My body is racked with the shakes as the guilt tears through me. The more I try to tame it, the more it unleashes in torrents and escapes.
The chair squeaks to my right. A hand lands on my back. It moves up to my neck and squeezes. Edge’s voice is thick. “This isn’t on you. Stop that shit, right the fuck now. This isn’t on you.”
“The fuck it isn’t,” I growl.
“I made my bed. I did the deed that got me behind bars. And sooner or later, no matter where I was hiding, the cops were going to find me. Yeah, Davis said your girl gave me up, but we don’t know that’s fuckin’ true, and either way, the cops would’ve found me soon enough.”
“She was my fuckin’ responsibility.”
“You know as well as I do that we can’t fuckin control what the fuck our women do. We can’t watch them twenty-four-seven. And Davis is often full of shit, so you let this go. I don’t hold you responsible, and that’s all the fuck that matters. You hear?”
I get control of myself, and using my elbow and then my shirt, I wipe my face. But I can’t look at him.
“You hear?” he grates out and grips my neck harder. Turns me. “You’ve always had my back. I don’t doubt your loyalty for a second. I know if you could’ve, you would’ve gone in my stead. Even now, knowing what you know, you would still, am I right?”
“Yes.” No question.
“See? We’re solid. And I know that even though you didn’t live through what I did, you experienced shit that tore you up and changed you. Cap told me about Dana and the baby.”
I look up sharply.
“For the first two years, I was angry. With life. With everyone. And yeah, with you. I placed blame on everyone, but myself. Then Cap did what Cap does best and set my head right. Made me see that my own actions landed me in prison. Yeah, I saved a woman from being raped, but I used deadly force to beat that fucker up when I didn’t need to.”
“He told me Dana was no good, and I didn’t listen. He told me she didn’t want a future and yet I planned one for us anyway. I wanted her to get pregnant.” I rub my hand over my head, and let the confession spill from my lips. “I built a fuckin’ house for her. I read baby books. Bought a doll. And I never fuckin’ asked her if she wanted any of it. Who does that?”
“You and you paid for it.”
“Yeah . . .” I let out a humorless chuckle. “I did.”
“But this girl is helpin’ you find your way back?” He sits back in his chair studying me. “I can see it.”
The corner of my mouth curls. “She is.”
“Maybe I need to find me a little slice of heaven like that to help me find my way back too.” His eyebrow quirks up. “She into threesomes?”
I push him hard enough he nearly falls off his chair. “No. Find your own slice of heaven. I don’t share.”
He gets to his feet and pulls me to mine. We hug and pat each other’s back.
Speaking into my ear, he says, “We’re both gonna heal and get right. But then war’s comin’ brother, and I need you by my side.”
“I’m with you.”
Pulling back, his eyes cast down to my jacket. “Fuck, I almost forgot.” He reaches into his cut and pulls something out. He slaps his hand over my chest. “I was told to kick your ass if you gave me any shit about sewin’ this patch on.”
I take the patch from his hand and turn it over. Shaking my head, a big smile spreads across my face. “Nah . . . no need. I’ll wear it proudly.”
“Can’t believe it’s taken almost ten years to finally give you a road name that sticks,” he laughs. “And instead of it bein’ Saint like the pussy-boy angel you were when we found ya”—he throws his arm around my shoulder—“we have to call you Luce like you’re some badass motherfucker now.”
I elbow him in the gut and he grunts. “Who has the big mouth?”
“Taz. We might have to find a muzzle to put on him.”
“Yeah. Good luck with that.” We exit the Chapel and walk down the hall and into the main room. My gaze travels over the room until it finds Doll.
At the exact moment I find her sexed out in a white tank top, black leather skirt, and wicked as fuck black, high-heeled boots, I see her hand snap forward and make contact with Dozer’s face.
“You got a feisty one on your hands,” amusement laces through Edge’s voice.
“You have no idea.”
“I like her already.” When I’m a few feet away pushing through people to get to her, he calls out, “Let me know if you change your mind about sharin’.”
“Not gonna happen.”
On our trip to hitting rock bottom, we’ll try to take people down with us along the way.
EMBER
Smoothing my hands down my top and the skirt Lily brought me, I ask, “Are you sure it doesn’t look like I’m trying too hard?” I twist my foot out and tilt my head. “If I fall in these boots—”
“Then Mav will catch you. I guarantee from the second he gets a peak at you, he’ll be glued to your side.” She stands behind me and rubs her hand up my arm. “And don’t waste your time worrying about what anyone else thinks. All that matters is how you feel about yourself, and how he treats you.
“What we might have to worry about is you givin’ some poor old bastard a heart attack.” She leans back and looks down. “Not even my ass looks that good in leather.” Her warm smile flushes away my doubts.
Turning, I hug her. “Thank you. Maybe you should show me how to do this so I don’t have to steal you away from Goose every time there’ a party.”
“Hey, you’re already gorgeous. I only added a little sparkle. And don’t let Goose give you any shit. Our sex is ten times hotter when we’ve spent some time apart. So you actually did us both a favor. He’ll come out of that meeting horny, hard, and ready—just how I like him.”
Heat rushes up my face and I shake my head. “Ugh . . . Lily. You really need to work on your oversharing.”
She laughs and then weaving her arm through mine, she pulls me toward the door. “Come on. The guys will be out of church soon.”
Over the course of the last twenty minutes, I’ve concluded my newfound friendship with Lily is not conducive to maintaining a healthy liver. In her eagerness to get me out on the dance floor, she’s forcing me to drink a lot of hard alcohol in a frenzy.
It’ll calm my nerves and make me loose, she says. Help me forget about everyone else and enjoy myself. Which I’m all for, except what if all the alcohol hits me like a Mack truck once I’m on the dance floor?
Me drunk + four inch heels = an accident waiting to happen.
Nevertheless, I bite my tongue and watch Lita behind the bar do her thing.
Beside me, excitement radiates off Lily. So much so, she can’t sit still. She’s standing, tapping her foot to the beat of “Ain’t No Rest for the Wicked” by Cage the Elephant. Her hair is in a sleek ponytail and it sways, along with her silver earrings, as she moves.
Lily catches me looking at her and smiles. “How are you feeling? You ready to dance yet?”
My skin’s a bit warm and tingly. I’m definitely buzzed, but maybe not intoxicated enough to make a fool of myself just yet. “Nope. Not yet.”
On the next shot, I raise my glass to meet Lily’s, and then toss it back. The kick isn’t as bad and the cherry flavor goes down smoother than the last shot.
Both Lily and I give Lita a thumbs up.
As Lita moves away to make a new round, my gaze lands on the hot biker chick in the mirror with red hair, smoky eyes, and rose pink lips. The white HD tank I’m wearing shows off my freckled cleavage. My hair’s in waves and the sides are loosely pinned away from my face. Another style I’ve never tried before. It’s somehow both flirty, and sultry, which is a far cry from my usual braid or a messy bun.
It feels nice to fit in though, and I can’t help but wonder what Mav will think when he sees me.
A sense of anticipation is in the air as we all wait for church to end and for the guys to fill the main room. The clubhouse feels almost bare without them, and yet nearly twenty people occupy it.
“I hope that’s not what you expect me to do,” I say and gesture toward the hang-arounds grinding on the dance floor. I love to dance. But that isn’t exactly what I’d call dancing.
Before she can respond, HOCs begin to flood into the main room from the hallway, their demeanor somber. Each one wears a haunted expression.
Contradictory to the mood and tension settling into the room, Bodie yells, “Turn the radio up, Rigor, and get these boys all the beer they can drink and pussy they can eat.”
Coming close, he spots Lily. “Bird, will you call your girlfriends at the club and see if a couple of ’em will come pay us a visit?”
“What’s going on?” Lily asks. She waves toward the solemn HOCs still entering the room.
“Just club business shit. All I can say is we’re gonna need some good entertainment to liven up this place tonight.” Wiggling his eyebrows at me he adds, “Lots and lots of tits and ass. And preferably girls that look as young and as sexy as my friend ginger here.”
Bodie catches me rolling my eyes. He takes the seat to my left. “What? You don’t like me no more ‘cause you’re a taken woman now? What happened to shamefully flirting with me?”
“I never flirted with you.”
Chucking, he replies, “Oh, I call bullshit. Not too long ago, you wanted to rub your cum all over my face, remember?” He elbows me as I scrunch up my nose and lips in disgust.
“I seem to remember Griz sayin’ it was your cum,” I quip.
Lita places my shot in front of me. But Bodie snatches it and throws it back in one swallow before I can reach for it.
“Hey!”
“Holy shit that’s good. What the fuck was that?”
Glaring at him, I say, “My drink.”
Lita answers, “Cherry Bomb. Want another?”
“Yeah, make that three of ’em,” Bodie replies. “Wait. Four. I owe ginger snack here one.” He throws around his panty-dropping smile and his eyes roam over my face. “Aww, you’re cute when you’re pissed.”
“And you’re annoying.” He throws his head back and laughs. Then playfully nudges my ribs.
“Hey, baby.” Goose wraps his arms around Lily and makes that half-groan half-growl sound he does as he starts kissing her neck. “Mmmm, miss me?”
She’s fighting to hold back a smile, as she answers, “No.”
“Liar,” Goose replies.
I look toward the hallway, but it’s empty. When my gaze circles the room, it locks with Dozer’s who’s standing behind the pool table. His eyes are hard, but more cold than furious. Star is pressed up against him, and Dozer has his massive hands on her hips. Before I can look away, he bends down and kisses her.
“What we drinkin’?” Griz plops down on the other side of Bodie.
“Cherry Bombs,” Bodie admits.
The old ginger’s eyebrows shoot up, and then he rolls his hand in the air. “Whatever. Just keep ’em comin’.” Leaning forward and peering at me, he says, “Mav’s gonna be a little bit, Doll. Nothin’ you need to worry about. He’s just hangin’ back to talk to Edge.”
I nod and join in the banter that seems to always occur whenever Bodie’s around. For a few moments, we are caught up in the conversation and forget about the party starting up around us.
Until Star lets out one of those horrid cries. Like the ones I heard behind Mav’s door yesterday when she was with Edge.
Morbid curiosity wins out and I peer into the mirror. Dozer still has hold of Star’s hips, but now he’s pushed her face forward over the pool table as he works his hand under her skirt. The skirt that’s currently up and around her waist. It’s all too easy to figure out what he’s doing by the strain of his forearm muscles and the way her body jerks forward.
The sight makes me damn near lose all the alcohol I’ve spent the last half hour slamming.
One of his hands unbuttons his jeans and moves down. I know what’s coming next, so I focus my eyes elsewhere. I absolutely do not need to see this. I tell myself not to look again, or raise my eyes to the mirror.
I can hear it though. And worse, the men nearby egg him on.
Yes, I know on some level that it’s wrong that it affects me. Why should I care? I’m with Mav. But as I study my feelings, I realize I’m not jealous. I’m revolted. He’s better than this.
The guilt hurts my heart when I think that maybe he’s doing this because I’ve hurt him, rejected him just like Bethany did. And it saddens me to see a great guy like him lower himself to touch a tramp like Star. Especially when the woman he should be with, the woman he should fight for, is less than ten miles away. Hell, she’s probably having a glass of wine and fantasizing about him right now.
“How about you, Pumpkin? You want another?”
I look up at Lita. “Sure.”
She slides the small shot glass toward me. As I take the shot, I feel a presence at my back. The people around me stop laughing and chatting. With the glass still to my lips I turn.
“Just wanted to show you, that in case you thought I wasn’t a big enough dick for you”—Dozer rubs his hand over his crotch—“that I got plenty of this to go around. Because that’s your thing, right?”
Speechless, I stare into his hard, gray eyes and lower the glass. Someone, I think Lily takes it from my lifeless hand.
I nearly spit out the words, just because you’re not man enough to fight for your happiness doesn’t mean you get to screw with mine. But I get the feeling that would only make this situation worse. He’s angry and running my mouth is probably not the best thing to do.
“Lita, pass me a bottle of Jim,” Dozer speaks over my head. He reaches forward, and I move to avoid him touching me. Throwing me a deadly glare, he laughs darkly, “What you think I still want Mav’s sloppy seconds? Sorry, babe, that ship has s—”
It happens so fast, that it only registers after the fact. My hand burns. I hold it, shocked as it throbs. Dozer’s irises spark with shock, and all conversation in the room suddenly lulls. Whether due to the new bikers flooding into the doorway, or from the slap that caused a handprint to bloom on Dozer’s cheek, I’m not sure.
“I might have been what you wanted for a time, but I wasn’t what you needed. I was a distraction. Star’s a distraction.” My voice is barely audible. He blinks down at me. “I’m sorry you can’t see that.” Going up on my tippy toes, I kiss his red cheek. “Stop wasting your time on the wrong women and go change her mind. You’re better than this.”
A strong hand grabs mine and pulls me away. Sparks fire from the touch and my gaze shifts to Mav.
His eyes dart from me to Dozer. “What’d he say to you? Did he touch you?”
“Nothing. No,” I answer. Mav looks to Dozer for the truth.
Dozer clears his throat, and I hear him say behind me, “She was just letting me know where I stand and giving me what I deserve.”
A good song affects us whether we want it to or not. A great song becomes a part of our story.
EMBER
Bodie’s on the dance floor with a black-haired minx behind him, and two Barbie-blondes rubbing against each of his thighs. He’s singing loudly and off key to the music. Every so often, he stops to make-out with one of the women grinding on him, only to break away a moment later and resume his performance.
“Why doesn’t someone tell him he’s tone deaf?” I ask.
“We have”—Mav chuckles and takes a sip from his beer—“about a hundred times.”
“Doesn’t stop him from actin’ like a jackass.” Taz whips his phone out and snaps a picture of the scene. Turning it so I can see, he shows me the damning photo. “He won’t remember shit tomorrow and he’ll pay me fifty bucks to delete this. Dumb ass doesn’t realize I’ve been saving these to my computer.” Sitting back, he smirks around his toothpick. “I’ve got enough of these to blackmail his ass for life.”
Taz, Goose, and Griz are sitting at the table with us. Lily on Goose’s lap. A voluptuous brunette is on Griz’s, playing with his beard. She looks maybe eighteen and doesn’t appear to be bothered by the fact that he’s three times her age.
The song changes and a few seconds later, Bodie grabs a chair and plops down next to me.
“Nice moves,” I kid.
He throws me a roguish smile. “Thanks. You and Lily gonna come out there with me and show those bitches how to work it?”
“Um, no,” I say and then drink what little is left of my Tequila Sunrise. I lean back into Mav and enjoy the sensation of his hand on my stomach.
“No?” Bodie’s eyebrows shoot up. “Why the hell not?”
“You have plenty of partners already. Don’t sound so disappointed,” Taz grumbles.
“The more the merrier,” Bodie quips. “You could come out there too and have some fun, you know, once you take that gigantic stick out of your ass.” Addressing me, he asks, “Do you know how to dance?”
I eye the girls popping, locking, and rubbing up against one another. “I do, but not like that.”
Mav shifts me on his lap. He licks his bottom lip after taking a sip from his beer then places it on the table. After sweeping my hair away from my shoulder, he searches my face. “How do you dance then?”
Shrugging, I say, “I don’t know. Just differently.”
“Like ballet?” I shake my head. “You gonna show me?”
Lily claps excitedly and stands. “Please. You promised to dance when you were drunk enough.”
“I may never be drunk enough, Lily,” I whine. “I don’t want to make a fool of myself.”
“Why not?” Taz looks straight at Bodie. “It’s what all the kids are doin’ tonight.”
“C’mon, ginger snack, no one’s gonna laugh at you,” Bodie pleads.
“Yeah, they’ll be too busy laughin’ at numbnuts here.” Taz points his toothpick at Bodie.
Mav nudges me. “Babe, show me. I wanna see.”
I glare at the table around me, but no one relents. The pressure builds as they keep trying to coax me out there. Finally, like the girl I am who always wanted to fit in with the cool kids, I succumb to peer pressure. Groaning, I reluctantly stand, linking my hands with Mav’s as I do. I attempt to tug him to his feet, but he doesn’t budge.
“Aren’t you coming out there with me?”
The sides of his mouth lift and he slowly shakes his head. “In a minute, but first I wanna watch. He slides his free hand up my inner thigh and pulls me close. I melt and fall a little against him. I have to place my hand on his shoulder to keep my balance. His fingers draw lazy circles on my thigh, increasing the dampness between my legs.
Still confused, I ask, “You want to watch me dance with Bodie?”
“Fuck, no. He touches you and I’ll cut his hands off.” He shoots said biker a warning glare.
Lily grabs my hand. “I’ll dance with you. He won’t cut my hands off for touching you, will you, Mav?” Mav’s smile grows into a mischievous grin. He looks over at Goose and they both pick up their beers and try to hide their pleased expressions.
“Oh, jeez. Men,” Lily mutters and starts pulling me away.
Against my better judgment, I end up on the dance floor, and once there, my gaze anxiously sweeps the room. Bikers, some I know, some I don’t, watch us. A few even turn fully for a better view.
Chills flare up my arms and unease fills me.
It’s one thing to dance for Mav, but quite another to perform for a room full of horny, drunk bikers.
I try to retreat, but Lily’s grip tightens like she’s ready for me to bolt. She shakes me a little to get my attention. “Relax and focus on me. I’m right here and Mav’s the only one watching you.”
“Uhmmm . . . no, he’s not.” I look left and right.
“That’s what you tell yourself. It works. Trust me.”
I throw her a sardonic look saying, ‘yeah, that is so not going to work.’
I’ve only danced at home with my mom, Sundown, and Will. It’s kind of a family tradition. But we always danced at home, behind closed doors, not anywhere anyone else could see. At least, I haven’t.
When I was younger, my mom had this mix tape, and often, out of the blue, she’d put it on and crank up the radio. It opened with “Peace Train” by Cat Stevens, followed by similar seventies hits. We’d dance around the house for hours. Sometimes my mom would stop the tape before the last song played and those were the best days. Other times she’d let it play through, and when, “Maggie May” by Rod Stewart came on she’d lose her steam, close her eyes, sing softly, and eventually start to cry. After it ended, she’d leave us to retreat alone into her room.
I asked Sundown once, why out of all the names she could have picked for her baby, she chose that one. Willow Maggie May Shaw. Especially since it was a bad memory for the both of us, and it hurt too much to listen to that song after she left. Sunny answered, “Because it was her favorite.”
Ironically, it was Will and the happiness she brought into my life that got me dancing again. Her birth and my love for her healed the wound left behind by my mother leaving.
Snapping me away from the memories of my past, Lily pulls me a little closer and holds my hands. She begins to dance. Her movements are small and slow. She sashays her hips and raises our hands. Her cobalt eyes never leave mine and encourage me to give in and move like she does.
I fight it at first. My discomfort at being the center of attention is winning out over my love for music and my natural instinct to appreciate it by moving freely.
The song playing is “Iris” by The Goo Goo Dolls. It has deep, meaningful lyrics and a heady rhythm. I find it nearly impossible not to get pulled in. All too soon, the song lulls me, calms me, and works its magic.
I do as Lily says, and think only of Mav. It may be the alcohol, but I swear I can sense his eyes on me and the desire behind them. I cling to that tether we share and block out the crowd around me.
After a moment, the awkwardness fades and the emotion the song evokes takes hold like a river as it streams through me. My eyes close. The room falls away and my body starts to sway.
I let go. Relax. And just feel.
Lily’s fingers disappear from mine, and free I reach up to take the pins from my hair, hold it up high and away from the heated skin of my neck. Sex is in the air and the sensation of it swirls around me like smoke, tempts me to let my hands roam over other areas of my body that I’d never normally touch in front of a room full of people.
As I let go of my hair, the weight of it settles on my shoulders. My hips circle and my knees bend. My hands slide down my body, over my chest, and back up to my neck.
MAVERICK
I don’t have the words to explain what witnessing Ember and Lily dancing together does to me. The erotic fantasy tunneling through my mind is one best locked away to ponder on later.
By the guilty look on Goose’s face, I’d say he’s thinking the same thing.
I fist my beer and fight the urge to knock the nasty thoughts that star my girl from his head.
“Don’t glare at me. You’re the one that sent them out there together.”
He’s right of course. What the hell I was thinking?
The sight of Ember and Lily dancing together quickly draws more male attention than either of us are comfortable with. Simultaneously we stand and move just off the dance floor. Near enough to intercede and stop a brother from touching our property if need be.
Yeah, most of the HOCs here know who the girls belong to, but the same can’t be said for the Greenbacks. And Smoke, although Ember’s been in my arms the entire night, clearly hasn’t gotten the message. He’s been sitting in the darkest corner of the room and showing blatant interest in what’s mine, which is really starting to piss me off.
As Ember’s nervousness begins to fade, she closes her eyes and lets go.
I knew from the day I saw her play soccer with the kids, she was a free spirit. But to what extent didn’t hit home until now. She moves in such a way it looks like art, and instantly puts me under her spell.
Her movements are raw and full of emotion. Completely unfiltered.
Seeing her in leather, both the boots and the skirt, has had me rock hard all night. But witnessing her lose herself, touch herself, swing and dip her hips is the sweetest kind of sexual torture. All I can think about is throwing her over my shoulder and carrying her off to fuck good and hard until we’re both spent.
Prying my gaze from her, I see a few men struggling with the same thought.
Fuck, they better not be thinking what I’m thinking.
That those hips were made for my hands to hold. That those parted pink lips were made to be kissed by my lips; and as soon as I get this woman in a bed, she’s going to move like this as she rides my cock, and when I lose myself deep inside her, it’ll be the sweetest kind of heaven for a sinner like me.
Stepping forward, I take hold of her. Put an end to their musings. I’ve already claimed this beautiful creature for my own, and I’ll be the only man losing himself inside her tonight and every night after this one.
EMBER
The last chorus hits at the same time that strong hands grip my hips. I don’t need to open my eyes to know it’s him. The heat and friction my body shares with Mav’s are immediately recognizable.
He whispers the lyrics of the chorus into my ear, and his hot breath sends tingles breaking out across my skin.
The words echo through me.
I want Mav to know who I am. I need him to really see me and accept me. Want me. Love me despite my scars, my past, and my fears.
Opening my eyes, I let my hands travel up his chest then link my fingers behind his neck.
The passion circling in Mav’s topaz gaze is intoxicating. As he wraps his arms around me, he pulls my body so close that no air exists between us. With my heels, I’m merely a few inches shorter, and it’s nice. Better than nice. It’s perfect. We’re chest to chest. Our lips are a breath away, and he’s taunting mine with their proximity.
Together we move. Dance as if we’ve done this a million times before, except the yearning igniting between us tells a different story.
That this is the first of many dances. That the hunger we feel for each other is new and all-consuming and neither of us feels like we’ll ever get enough.
Because it will never be enough.
I could never get enough of this. Of him.
Moving forward, I let my breath tease his skin. His neck, his ear lobe, and finally his inner ear. “I need you,” I whisper. A shudder jolts through him, and his erection hardens further against my stomach.
“God, Doll, I need you too.”
One of his hands moves to my ass, and his fingers grab onto my thigh where my skirt ends. The other sinks into my nape. He cups the back of my head, and seals his mouth in a punishing kiss over mine.
He’s taking control. Showing me, I am his Doll. And he’ll move me and take me any way he wants me.
I submit and kiss him as ardently as he kisses me.
When the song ends, he simply lifts me and I lock my ankles at his lower back. Ready and desperate for more of what only he can give me.
