Burned: Devil's Blaze MC Book 2 (15 page)

I take a chance to breathe and calm myself. Feeling Torch’s hands on my body is enough to totally wreck me. Feeling him bring my leg comfort does something else entirely. It makes me want to let my guard down. He seemed concerned. Other than Bethie, there has never been another person to give me that, which is bad. I mean nothing to Torch. He
can’t
mean anything to me. So what the fuck am I doing?

He leaves to fix the bathwater and I’m left staring at the door. I should make a run for it, but I’m hurting so bad, I’m not sure I could make it. He threw the keys to the jeep on the dresser. He seems so unconcerned. It’s like he’s trying to trust me. Maybe it’s the pain or the softness I’m feeling towards him, but I can’t bring myself to leave. I ignore the voice inside that says I don’t want to hurt him. That can’t be it…
It can’t
.

He returns to me. “Stand up, sweetness,” he says softly, and the tone of his voice makes something flutter to life inside of me. Torch helps me stand up, then his hands brush my hair on each side of my face before slowly moving down my neck. Torch’s thumbs pet the front of my throat, igniting flames of awareness in my blood.

“Hunter… I’m not sure we should be doing this,” I whisper, wetting my lips since my throat seems to have gone dry. Desire floods through my system and I can feel my heartbeat echo in my ears. For some reason, he smiles. It should be noted that when Torch smiles, those green eyes of his could melt the panties off of a nun. “Why are you smiling?” I ask, unable to stop looking at him. If you can get away with calling a man beautiful, Torch definitely is.

“I like it when you say my name, Katie,” he says as his hands travel over my arms and come to a rest on my hips. I have to force myself to take a breath as he moves to my waist and unbuttons my pants. My hands go to cover his as I halfheartedly try to stop him.

“Hunter…”

His lips come down and gently grazes mine, drinking from them in the softest kiss I’ve ever had in my life.

“Let me take care of you, Katie.”

“But—”

“Katie, I can’t explain what happened the night Beth had the baby, but I know that whatever happened, Skull wasn’t part of it. I’m asking you to trust me. Let me show you that my brothers are not the
Big Bad
here. That
I’m
not. Trust me, Katie,” he says, pushing my pants down off my hips.

His words hit me hard. I can’t trust him. I don’t think any woman with my history could ever trust a man. Torch makes me want to, though, and that’s more than I’ve ever felt. He doesn’t know that I’ve already called Beth. I arranged to meet her in Tennessee in one week. I used the trucker’s phone, then threw it over a guardrail when I abandoned the truck. Just talking to Beth allowed me to breathe and regroup.

It also gives me a few days to give in to what my body wants.

I’m not sure what’s changed between us, or when it did, but the softness he’s showing me is something I didn’t know I wanted, but it’s something I crave… apparently. I want more of it. I think I need it. I study him for a minute. Then, in answer, I pull my shirt off and wait.

“Jesus, fuck,” he whispers before crouching down to rid me of my pants.

“What?” I ask, nervous and worried I did something wrong.

“Just hoping I can hold it together long enough to let you soak in the tub,” he says.

“Well, that’s… disappointing.”

“Stop it, woman. You need to soak that leg.”

He pulls my body close to him, his hands grip my hips, and he places a kiss on my pussy. His body vibrates as he breathes in deeply.

“What are you doing? Did you just…
smell
me?” I ask, suddenly wishing I had put on panties this morning.

“There’s not a better aroma in the world than the smell of my Katie aroused,” he says.

I don’t respond. I can’t. Does he even realize he called me his? Why do I like that? Why does that make me happy?
Crap
.

“Stop it. You’re weirding me out,” I tell him. By “weirding me out”, I mean he’s totally weakening my defense system. I’ve already softened towards him; I can’t weaken even more.

He stands up. Right back in its place is that easy, cocky grin I’m so used to seeing on him.

“Really?” he asks. “Because I think I’m making you wet.”

He’s not wrong. Before I can respond, he pulls me up in his arms and carries me off to the bathroom. He lets me down, unlatches my bra, then tosses it to the ground. The tub is small, but larger than others I’ve seen in motel rooms, especially for the dive this one is. I sit down. Torch slides in across from me minutes later. This is a new experience for me. I’ve never bathed with a man before, unless you count the shower with Torch that first night. This seems more intimate, though. Apparently not intimate enough for him; he situates my legs so that they overlap his, then pulls my hips so we’re mere inches apart.

“That’s better.”

“Is it?” I ask, confused and distracted by the sight of this man devouring me with his eyes.
Me.

“Now, I can take care of you,” he says with a grin.

“You could have done that in the bedroom,” I tell him, not really kidding.

“I meant wash you, dirty girl,” he says taking the soap and lathering it between his hands. For some reason, my eyes are glued on his every movement. Watching how the soap slides between his hands, the white foam emerging between his fingers, I soon find out that’s nothing compared to the way it feels when his slick hands caresses my body with the soap. He starts with my neck, leaving magic in his wake as his fingers tease and torture every inch of what might be the most erogenous zone on my body.

I hold my breath, waiting for him to move on to my breasts. He doesn’t, though. Instead, he goes down my shoulder, then my arm, and finally arrives at my hands. He uses his thumbs to massage the palms of my hands.

My eyes close in pleasure. “That feels so good,” I whisper.

“I have been told I have magic fingers,” he says. I’m not watching him, but I can hear the smile he’s wearing on his face right now.

“Please, do not tell me about the millions of women who have stroked your ego,” I tell him, half-joking. For the first time I can remember, it bothers me to hear about the women this man has had before me.

“You make me forget them all,” he says softly.

The importance of what he just said makes me open my eyes. He doesn’t look up, though. I’m not sure he’s aware he said that out loud. His hands move down to my leg, the one that’s been hurting so bad I could barely walk. He begins to massage it, and I can’t stop the groan that escapes as he kneads the flesh there.

“How did you get the scars, Katydid?” he asks, his finger brushing against the faint scars and following their line down. They aren’t as bad as they used to be, and definitely not as bad as they
could
have been. Still, they make me uncomfortable. I’m not use to putting myself out there with a man.

“Why does it matter?” I ask, trying to divert him. “If they turn you off…”

He stops me from pulling away. “I didn’t say that, sweetness. There’s not a fucking thing about you that turns me off. I just want to know how you got them. They remind me of some of the scars my brother Beast has.”

I swallow. Bethie has talked incessantly about the club. She thought of them as her family before Skull’s note. I know right away who Beast is and I know what scars he would have. They would be very much like mine, I’d imagine, except Beast got his heroically. He got his willingly. I was just a guinea pig, a way to further my father’s great plan.
Collateral damage.

“There was a fire…” I tell him, which isn’t the truth, but close enough.

“Sweetness,” he groans, the word sounding haunted. My legs are in the water, but because they’re draped over his, the tops are out. He bends down and kisses the scar. I swallow in response.

I’m feeling self-conscious and on-display—neither emotion is good for me. I need to divert him, and fast. “Torch…” He looks at me. I see the disappointment in his eyes, and just like that, the moment’s broken.

“Hold your head back, Katydid,” he says, grabbing a plastic cup off the edge of the tub. It’s white, but has the motel name on it. I hold my head back just as Torch pulls me up on his lap.

“What—?”

“I just needed you closer for this. Now, hold your head back,” he instructs me again, and I do it, but it’s hard to concentrate when I can feel his dick pushing against my ass.

How much torture can one woman take?

He pours water through my hair over and over, making sure it’s all wet. When he stops, I look up to find him pouring shampoo in his hand. He rubs it in my hair and then massages it in my scalp. I’ve never had a man wash my hair before. Even when we showered together, our hands were much too busy doing other things. Now, I suddenly wonder why.
It’s amazing.
I groan at the feel of the way he rubs the shampoo into my hair, taking time to massage and knead my head in the process, which relaxes me.

“That feels good,” I moan, grinding my ass against his hardened cock. He’s been priming my body for him and I’m not even aware of it. Suddenly, I’m dying to have him inside of me. “Hunter,” I growl, my nails biting into his shoulders so hard I know they’re leaving marks. If he doesn’t hurry up and give me what I need, I’m going to draw blood.

“I have something to make you feel better,” he says, starting to rinse my hair now.

“Show me,” I urge him, shifting so I can take his cock in my hand and hold it still. I slide down on him, our eyes locked on one another, and I don’t stop until he’s completely inside of me.

This time, his groan mingles with mine.

I watch as Katie guides me inside of her. I had forgotten just how fucking wonderful she felt. She slides down on my dick, squeezing him inside her tight little body.

Fuck, I want to come right then.

I give up all pretense of rinsing her hair. More important things are on my mind now. I capture her breast in my hand and run my tongue over the nipple, slowly at first, looking up to watch her face the entire time.

Her head is thrown back in pleasure. Her hips make this fucking turn as she grinds down on my cock, causing the muscles in her stomach to flutter and my eyes are drawn there. I’m hypnotized by that one movement. That’s when it hits me.

Fucking-nails-in-my-coffin!
I didn’t suit up. I didn’t even think of suiting up. Jesus. What is going on with me?

I hold her hips. “Katie…”

Nothing. If anything, she picks up her speed.

“Fuck, Hunter, you feel even more amazing than I remember. So fucking big inside of me. It feels like you’re going to split me apart. Stretches me so good,” she moans, and Christ Jesus, what the hell am I supposed to do here? I don’t want to stop her.

“Katie, sweetness, we have to stop… We can’t do this.”

“I think we should do it harder,” she moans, then lifts off my cock and slams back down onto it, grinding on me and squeezing my cock so fucking tight, I wouldn’t be surprised if the fucker doesn’t break in half. 

“Katie… We’re not protected, sweetness. I didn’t put on a glove,” I tell her, giving one last Hail Mary before I say fuck it and get lost in the Promised Land.

She freezes mid-grind. I want to kick my own ass.

“What?” she asks, her eyes clouded with lust, her voice a mere whisper compared to the noises she was making earlier.

“We forgot the condom, sweetness. We need to stop.”

“Oh my God!” she cries, then practically pulls my dick out of her. She stands up, nearly falling because of her bad leg. I grab hold of her to keep her from slamming back against the tiled wall.

“Will you slow down before you hurt yourself?” I growl. Her reaction isn’t making me happy. I mean, I know we didn’t need to risk it, but damn it all to hell, she’s treating my dick like it has crabs or something. It’s enough to wound a man’s ego.

“What have you done?” she cries, pulling away from my hold and getting out of the tub. She wraps a towel around her, as if to shield her body from me.

I think that’s about enough of that. I stand up too, and when I get in front of her, I’m rather proud of the way my dick is standing out, demanding attention.
Demanding her attention.

“I think you’re the one who put my cock inside of you, damn it,” I remind her.

“You told me to!”

“I did not!”

“It was implied! Jesus! If I get knocked up, I will fucking kill you!” she huffs, turning away to march back to the main room.

I march right after her. I’ve been treating Katie with kid gloves. Time to show her how much I like being in charge.

I stop her at the bed when she’s looking around for her clothes. I grab her shoulder and turn her around. It annoys me that I do it carefully because of her leg. She’s treating my dick like public enemy number one; I shouldn’t worry about her hurting, but I do.

“That’s about enough of that,” I grumble.

Katie looks at my dick, then back at me. “Will you put that thing away?”

“You know what I’ve noticed, Katydid?”

“I don’t care! I need to go to a pharmacy. Do they still make a morning after pill?”

“You have got to be kidding me.”

“Torch! I’m being serious! Get dressed! We need to go!” she cries, trying to pull away from me.

“No, we don’t. First of all, I was barely inside of you, and I sure as hell didn’t come. Second of all, if I
do
knock you up—as you so sweetly put it—you will
not
be getting rid of my baby.”

“Oh my God! Are you listening to yourself? We can’t have a kid! Even by accident! I don’t want kids!”

“You… what?” I ask her, totally floored.

“I don’t want kids! Ever! I’m never having kids!”

“Wait. Are you on birth control?”

“Of course I am!”

“Then why the fuck are you freaking out?”

“Because you can get pregnant even on birth control! It’s not a hundred percent!”

“You can get pregnant with a rubber too!” I growl. The fucking woman is making no sense.

“It would be harder! And as cocky as you are, your little swimmers wouldn’t rest ‘til they tried to swim to the right place and then
bam!
No-fucking-thank-you!” I put my hands on her shoulders and walk her backwards to the bed. She stops when her legs are pressed against it. “What are you doing?”

“That’s easy, sweetness,” I tell her before pushing her back on the bed. She falls ungracefully, bouncing on the mattress. “I’m about to show you just how much
harder
I can get,” I tell her, then lie down on top of her and pin her to the bed with my body.

“What? No! We have to—”

“Fuck, Katie. We have to
fuck
. Then, after I’ve fucked you hard and stretched that tight little pussy until my cock is satisfied, I’ll let you suck it because, sweetness, I have to tell you, your mouth is
pissing me off
. Maybe if you’re choking on my dick, I’ll forget that I’m pissed off, I’ll be nice, and just spank you for pleasure instead of blistering your damned ass.”

“Torch…”

“Don’t even say it.”

“But you don’t know—”

“I know that whatever is about to come out of your mouth is only going to piss me off more. So do us both a favor and spread those fucking dynamite legs of yours before I roll you over and fuck your ass instead, and you’re busy screaming instead of pissing me off.”

“My ass?” she asks, her voice raspy. As pissed off as I am, even I don’t miss the interest that’s mixed in with her outrage and fear.

Fucking hell. I could be with her for years and not grow bored. She makes me want to scream, but she’s the first woman in history that makes me so fucking hard that I don’t know which way to fuck her first, and I’m already dying for more before I’m even finished.

What is she doing to me?