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Authors: Sabrina Paige

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BOOK: Taming Blaze
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Guillermo stepped toward Benicio.  “You.  You were always in my shadow.  You always followed me, leeching off me like a parasite.  I brought you up, under the General.  I was the reason you had contact
s anywhere.  And this was how you repaid me.”

I watched as Guillermo made a move for his weapon, and I reached for mine, drawing on him.  I saw a flicker of recognition in his eyes, the realization that I was pointing my wea
pon at him and not at Benicio.

“You,” he said.

“I suggest you put it down,” I said, my voice tense.

“Maurice,” he called.  None of his bodyguar
ds moved.  They were all still, silent.  Benicio had not gotten to one of them, as he had promised.  He had gotten to all of them.  “Maurice.”

I smiled as I watched Guillermo realize that even his bodyguards had betrayed him.

Then I saw Dani, walking toward him from behind.

“Dani, get th
e fuck out of here!” I yelled.

“You were willing to trade me for money?” she asked, her voice wavering. 
Then she drew her weapon and pointed it at her father.

“Dani,” I warned.  “Get out of here before you get hu
rt.”

“You
killed her.  You killed my mother.”

A sinister smile spread across Guillermo’s features.  Then I heard the sharp crack of gunfire, and felt searing pain.  I stumbled back, confused. 
Did he just shoot me?

T
here was another shot, and Guillermo collapsed.  And everything went dark.

“He took what was rightfully mine.  Your mother.  You were always his, never mine.  Your mother thought she could just walk away.”  I listened to the man I had always thought was my father, the man who I had always feared I would become
rant about how he was justified in killing her.  He had turned out to be exactly the monster I had always known him to be.

I had been fearful of this moment,
of the confrontation with him.  I had been afraid to hear the truth- that my father didn’t love me and that he was willing to shatter my world for millions of dollars for which he had no need.  I meant that little to him.  I’d expected that hearing the words come out of his mouth would destroy me.

I didn’t expect this, an eerie sense of calm that descended over me like a veil.  Guillermo stood there,
raving mad, his face reddening and sweat beading on his brow as he ranted.  But for me, time slowed down, and I could feel the blood in my ears, my heart pumping.  I saw his lips move, but heard nothing.  Everything was suddenly still and peaceful, the way it was when Blaze and I were on the shore by the lake.  I knew what I had to do.

I watched as Guillermo turned toward Benicio. 
Then I heard his voice, almost like I was watching a scene on television, the volume turned down low.

“You,” Guillermo said.  “You were always in my shadow.  You always followed me, leeching off me like a parasite.”  He reached for his gun
and pulled it, pointing it at Benicio.

“You were willing to trade me for, what, money?” I asked.  My voice faltered for a moment as I pulled my weapon
.  Then I was resolved.  I pointed it at my father.

I heard Blaze scream my name, telling me to get back.  But as soon as
he opened his mouth, I knew what would happen.  I understood my father.  We were cut from the same cloth, Guillermo and I.  Benicio might be my biological father, but I was Guillermo’s daughter.  In that instant, Guillermo would know Blaze loved me.  And he would kill him.  He would take everything from me.

“You killed her.  You killed my mother,” I said, accusing him.

I pronounced his sentence.

I would be his executioner.

I heard the sharp crack of gunfire, and then I shot, watching Guillermo drop to the ground.  He fell in slow motion, silent, like it was all happening in a movie and everything had been muted.

I felt nothing but satisfaction.

Mad Dog yelled, “Blaze!” and passed me, knocking my shoulder.  I shook my head, blinking. 
Blaze.
Guillermo had shot Blaze.  I ran, the gun still in my hands.  Blaze was passed out on the ground, blood everywhere.  I dropped to my knees, touching him.  There was blood on my hands.  Blaze’s blood.

“Blaze!” I screamed
.  “Wake up!”

Blaze blinked, his eyes fluttering open.  “Fuck.  My head.  Christ, did I just get shot?”

Mad Dog was there, bent over him, hands pulling his cut away from him.  “It’s just his shoulder.”  He looked down at Blaze.  “You fucking passed out from getting shot in the shoulder?”

“Don’t be such a fucking pussy, man.”  Axe said, shaking his head.   

“I didn’t fucking pass out,” Blaze said. “ I hit my head when I went down or something.”  He grinned at me.

“Asshole.”  I sai
d.  “I thought you were dead.”

Axe bent over Blaze, doing something with a torn tee-shirt, applying pressure or something.  “I used to be a Marine,” he explained
as he worked.

“Get him in the car, back to my house.  I’ll have my doctor meet us there,” Benicio said.

Picasso, the club’s resident tattoo artist, dabbed at my shoulder.  He sat beside me, focused, as he gave me my first tattoo.  Picasso was a massive guy with a long beard that reached to his chest, both arms covered in tattoos that went all the way to his neck so that barely any skin was visible underneath.  He was exactly what you would expect from a tattoo artist at a motorcycle club.

“What?” he asked, peering closely at my shoulder.  He had caught me staring at him.

“Sorry,” I said.  “I was just looking at your piercings.”  His eyebrow, nose, and lip were pierced, and I wondered what else might be pierced.

Blaze walked through the doorway.  “He’s got a pierced cock, you know.”

I raised my eyebrows.  “Really?”

“He sa
ys it drives the ladies wild.”

“Drove your mother wild, didn’t it?”
Picasso asked, never looking up from his work.

Blaze laughed.  It was a sound I knew I’d never get ti
red of hearing.

“So, how does it look?” I asked
Picasso.  I was dying to look at the tattoo, but I couldn’t see over my shoulder.

“It’s about done, I think,” He squinted closer and
Blaze walked around behind me.

Blaze nodded.  “It looks good.  Do you want to see it?”

“It’s my first tattoo.  Of course I do.”

Picasso
held up the mirror, and I saw the reflection, the letters reversed.

Property of Blaze

Inferno MC

“Holy shit,” I said.  “I was worried it would look like a prison tattoo or some
thing.  No offense.”

Picasso
laughed.  “None taken.  I told you I’d do it nice for you.”

“I love it,” I said.  “It’s still fe
minine.”  The tattoo was a piece of art, the lettering detailed, little hibiscus flowers and vines running through it.  The flowers were a tribute to my mother, to her fantasy of running away with me someday to an island paradise.  I turned to Blaze, a stupid smile plastered on my face.  “What do you think?”

“I think my name looks good on you,” he said.

I jumped up, flung my arms around his neck, and planted a kiss on his lips.  “I think your name looks good on me too.”

Blaze groaned.  “You know what
else would look good on you?”

I giggled.  “I have an idea about what would be good
in
me.”

“Come on, you two,”
Picasso said, pulling off his gloves.  “I need to put some anti-bacterial shit on that and cover it up with a bandage.  Then you can start groping her again, Blaze.”

“Oh, do I have to keep the bandage on for a while?” I asked.  “I kind of wanted it off f
or the barbeque tonight.”

“Yeah,”
Picasso said.  “Keep it on a couple hours.  You’ll be fine for tonight.”

As he bandaged me, I looked up at Blaze.  “You guys didn’t have to do a barbeque, and go to all that trouble, you know.  It’s not like I’m leaving the country or something.  I’m just going back to Stanford.”

“Shut up,” Blaze said.  “You’re an Old Lady now.  I have to treat you right.”

“Is that a promise?”

I felt Picasso pat my shoulder.  “There you go,” he said, and I stood, wrapping my arm around Blaze.

“Absolutely,” Blaze said.  “
That’s what the tattoo means.”

“Get out of here, you two.”
Picasso pointed toward the door.  “I don’t need so see all this sappy shit.”

“Thanks,
Picasso!” I waved.  “See you tonight!”

Blaze pulled me tighter against him as we left.  “Now what are we going to do to with a couple hours before the barbeque tonight?”

“I have a few things up my sleeve,” I said.

I squealed as I raced into the bedroom
.  Blaze’s boots fell heavy on the floor as he followed me, stripping off clothes as we ran down the hallway.  He pulled me against him, his flesh warm against my skin, and I shivered as he traced his finger down the length of me, from the top of my back to the curve of my ass and then in between my legs.  I moaned in response to the touch of his hand, and then he turned me to face the bed.

“Let me see,” he said, standing behind me, fingers pulli
ng at the edge of the bandage.

“No, Blaze!  He said to wait, remember?  Y
ou can see it in a few hours.”

“Fine,” he said.  “But can you really blame me if I want to take a look at my name on you?”  He kissed the nape of my neck and I felt goose bumps dot my arms.

“You’ll just have to distract yourself for the time being.”  I pushed my ass back against him, feeling his hardness pressed against me.  “Now, do you think you can find some way of entertaining yourself?”

Blaze
groaned.  “Maybe,” he said.  “It depends if there’s something here to entertain me.”  His palm was against my skin, tracing the curves of my ass, his fingers between my legs, slipping inside.  I arched, pushing my ass against him, encouraging him.

“Blaze,” I whispered.

He dropped to his knees, his hands on me, thumbs spreading my folds.  “Do you think this will entertain me?” he asked.

“I think your tongue does need a little distraction,” I said.  Blaze’s mouth was on me, his tongue warm against me as he ate me.  “Yeah, th
at’s definitely entertaining.”

“It’s the most entertaining thin
g I’ve seen all day,” he said.

A
rousal coursed through my body as he worked me.  I’d come to feel totally at peace when I was with him, even though it had only been a few months.  Being with him was easy.  He stroked me, bringing me close to the edge, then pulled away.

“Do you want me?” Blaze asked, his voice thick.

“Yes,” I said.  “Please.”  I looked over my shoulder at him, naked behind me.  “Blaze?”

“Yeah, sweetheart.”  He was hard
, pressed up against me, and I was more than ready.  I needed to say it again, before I started to lose all control.

“Blaze?” I asked.  He paused, looking up at me with those blue eyes, the ones I fell in love with a little more every day.  “I lo
ve you.”

He smiled, a broad smile that lit u
p his face.  “I love you too.”

I could feel myself throbbin
g around him.  “Now, fuck me.”

“At your service,” he said, and thrust inside me, quickly gathering momentum as I urged him on with little moans.  He knew me now, knew my body more than I thought anyone ever would.  It was complete bliss with hi
m.  He fit me, inside and out.

I closed my eyes as his hands moved all
over me.  He pushed deeper inside me, cupping my breasts, teasing my nipples with his fingers until I didn’t think I could take it anymore.

“I want all of yo
u,” Blaze said, and I felt desperate with need as he thrust inside me, bringing me to the edge.

“You have me,” I moaned.  He thrust into me one last time, groaning
loudly as he climaxed, and I finally let go, the wave of pleasure crashing over me like a tsunami.  When I blinked open my eyes, I could feel his lips pressed against the nape of my neck, his arms wrapped around my chest as he held me.  His breath mimicked mine, and I could feel his heart pounding, the sensation a comforting one.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“Ditto,” I said.  “You know, you’re still going to have to entertain me until the barbeque.  We’ve got more time.”

“Is that so?”

“You better believe it,”  I said.  “I insist.”

“And what the Old Lady wants, t
he Old Lady gets,” Blaze said.

BOOK: Taming Blaze
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