by Bella Jewel
“Pipe down, tiger,” Maverick says, stepping up beside her. “Amalie is an adult, and she made a choice to go for a ride. Not Mason’s fault.”
“She can hardly hear, Maverick!” Scarlett says, glaring at him. “He knows this. Which means he knows if anything happens out there, she is in even more danger than the rest of us.”
“She was upset!” Mason says, throwing his hands up, face tight. “Fuckin’ cryin’ her eyes out. What did you want me to do? Crash tackle her? Like Maverick said, she’s a fuckin’ adult. Wasn’t my place to throw down and stop her from goin’. She was on your land, which I assumed was safe enough.”
She was upset? Crying? About what?
Whoever fucking upset her, I will fuckin’ make them burn.
I will fucking stomp all her demons until they’re bleeding.
I will fix her, and I will bring promise back into her eyes.
“Not about safety,” I growl at him, crossing my arms. “It’s about common sense.”
Mason glares at me, and I hold his stare. Making my position loud and clear. He looks away first, and I turn to Scarlett. “Got any off-road motorbikes around here that have lights?”
She nods. “Yeah, the people renting my house use them all the time. In the barn.”
I nod. “I’m goin’ to take one, see if I can find her. She probably got distracted, but now it’s dark she has to be panickin’. I gotta get to her.”
“We’ll stay here, look around the property close by and see if we can see anything,” Scarlett agrees.
“Anyone tried her phone?” Maverick suggests.
Scarlett pulls her phone out and tries Amalie. She wouldn’t answer, she never does, she can’t hear us speak over the phone, but if she at least picks it up then we’ll know that she’s okay, at the very least. Scarlett calls three times and it goes to voicemail.
“She often doesn’t answer, I’ll send her a text.”
She punches out a text, and I stride into the barn and over to the motorbikes parked against the wall. I pull the closest one off, wheeling it out, and then I look to Scarlett.
“Where would she most likely have ridden her horse? Explain it to me.”
“She would have started in that paddock, am I right, Mason?”
Mason nods at the paddock and I glance at it, it is lined with white wooden fences and disappears into the darkness. It’s a massive paddock, lit up by arena lights, but I imagine they only go so far before darkness hits hard and heavy.
“That’s where most people ride, but she would have gotten to the end and outside of the fences. I told her about trails I had put in through the woods down there. My guess, knowing Amalie, she wouldn’t have gone too much off the track. She would have gone to the first one, you won’t miss it, it starts just outside the gate, try that one, it connects with some of the others.”
“Okay,” I say, throwing my leg over the bike and kicking it to life.
Been a long time since I’ve ridden anything off-road. I give it some gas and yell out over the angry, rumbling sound, “She comes back here, text me.”
Then I speed toward the paddock. I push the gate open when I reach it, taking the bike through, and then I close it behind me.
It’s dark, so I can’t ride as hard as I want to, and believe me, I fucking want to. Thinking of Amalie out here, alone, in the dark, possibly injured has my chest clenching with something unfamiliar. It’s a panic I haven’t experienced when it comes to women. She has me, I don’t know why, but she does, and I need to know she’s safe.
It doesn’t take me long to make it to the end of the paddock, and I see the gate Scarlett was talking about. I also see a horse standing on the outside, snorting and pawing the ground. It’s fully saddled up, but it has no rider. My heart fucking drops out of my chest, and I put the stand on the bike and climb off, opening the gate at the end.
“Whoa there, fella,” I murmur, approaching the horse.
It prances from side to side, but eventually lets me catch it. I rub its nose. I’m not much of a horse person, but it’s an animal all the same, and I’m not a fucking dick. I take whatever is on its head, and pull it toward the gate. When it walks through, I let it go and it bolts. At least it’s confided in here until the morning.
I get back on the bike and ride out, closing the gate behind me.
I see the trail Scarlett was telling me about straight away. It’s fairly open and obvious. I can’t see Amalie, and I pray to fuckin’ God she isn’t injured somewhere, or worse. I ride hard, entering the track and going flat out down it. Slowly, it gets thicker and thicker, and fuck, if she came in this far, she could be anywhere.
Heart fucking racing, I keep riding, eyes darting as far as the light will let me see. I round a bend and skid on the brakes when I see a small girl, back against a tree, head in her hands, body trembling. Fuck. I stop the bike and she looks up, eyes startled and wide. She’s not bleeding from what I can see. And I thank whoever looked after her for that, because fuck, if something happened to her …
No.
I stride over, squatting down in front of her. The light from the bike is shining over us, and I can see her face. She’s sobbing, her face is red and puffy, and she looks terrified. I cup her cheeks in my big hands and say, really slowly because she’s too upset for me to speak fast, “Are you okay?”
She begins to nod, and then she shakes her head and starts crying harder.
“Amalie,” I say over and over, even though she isn’t looking at me. “Amalie, angel, fuckin’ look at me.”
She’s still shaking her head, crying so hard her tiny body is shaking.
I gently put pressure on her cheeks and she finally looks at me again.
“Are you hurt?” I ask her.
She nods. “M-m-m-my ankle.”
I pull back and reach down, running a hand down her leg and reaching her ankle. Shit. It’s swollen, big and purplish looking. She twisted it hard, possibly even broke it.
“I’m goin’ to carry you to my bike, and get you home, okay?” I ask her, holding her red, broken eyes.
“Okay, Malakai.”
Her voice is so fucking soft, and so fucking broken, it breaks my damn heart. I reach for her, scooping her up into my arms, and I carry her to the bike. She’s so light I can hardly feel her weight as I move. When I reach the bike, I place her on the front. Off-road bikes are a little different to what I ride, the seat is long and mostly flat, so the passenger can go on the front if need be.
I climb on behind her, curling my hand around her waist and pulling her so she’s nestled firmly between my legs. She softens there, melting into me, her head slightly resting on one of my biceps. I start the bike and take off, going a lot slower now. She doesn’t move much, but I’m sure I hear her wince a few times. She’s in pain, and every bump is probably agony. I get off the trail as fast as I can. It’ll be smoother once we reach the paddock.
When we do, I open the gate and ride in, making sure it’s locked behind me. We take a steady journey home, not wanting to injure her any further. When I see the ranch come into view, I exhale. When we reach the gate, Scarlett has already come running out. Her eyes are wide and she says to me, “Is she okay?”
“Twisted ankle, that’s as much as I can tell for now. She’s upset. Your horse is in this paddock, I locked it in.”
Scarlett nods and we ride through. She locks the gate behind us and meets us back at the barn. As soon as we’re in the light, she runs over to Amalie, cupping her face. “Amalie, are you okay?”
Amalie nods, and softly says, “I’m so sorry Scarlett. I only wanted to go for a ride. Something scared him and he reared up …”
“Oh, honey, it’s not your fault. Not your fault at all. Let’s get you inside.”
I get off the bike and take Amalie into my arms, carrying her inside Scarlett’s cottage. I place her down on the sofa, and she looks up at me, eyes so fucking broken it hurts to look at her. I kneel down in front of her, taking her foot into my hands and ins
pecting it. Don’t think it’s broken, but she did a good job at twisting it.
I look at her again. “Don’t think it’s broken, but you should probably get it looked at tomorrow anyway.”
She nods.
I look to Scarlett to tell her to get some ice, but she’s already by my side, ice in hand. I take it and place it on Amalie’s foot. She winces and looks down. I look to Scarlett, and she gives me a pleading expression. As if begging me to do something.
I don’t know what I’m supposed to fucking do.
I’m not made for these kinds of situations.
“Maybe she should have a shower, she’s covered in dirt. I’ll make her some tea,” Scarlett suggests.
Maverick appears from her bedroom, wet from a shower, and his eyes fall on Amalie. “Fuck, bro, what happened?”
“Horse dropped her,” I mutter.
“She hurt?”
“Body? Not so much. Mind? Yeah somethin’ is very fuckin’ wrong.”
Maverick looks at Amalie, and his jaw tightens. Like me, he doesn’t like seeing anyone in pain. And the kind of pain Amalie is in makes you feel it right to your core.
I reach for Amalie’s face, making her look at me.
“Goin’ to walk you into the shower, you good with that, darlin’?”
She nods.
“Won’t look. Just want to make sure you don’t trip.”
She nods again.
I help her up and take her weight as we move toward the shower. Scarlett calls out to me on the way past. “She can stay here tonight. I’ll make the spare room up, okay?”
I nod and take Amalie into the bathroom, carefully closing the door behind us and leaning her against the sink so I can step back. “You goin’ to be able to get in there?” I ask her.
She stares at me for so long I wonder if she’s heard me at all. I’m about to repeat myself when she slowly, hesitantly, raises her arms. It takes me a moment to realize what she’s asking, but when I do, fuck, my dick hardens in response and my heart makes me feel fucking strange.
It’s an unfamiliar combination.
“Want me to get your clothes off, angel?” I murmur, holding her eyes, before dropping to her lips.
“Yes,” she whispers.
I step forward, putting my hands at the base of her shirt, and then slowly I pull it up and over her head. I toss it to the side and then stare, for a moment, I’m a little fucking blindsided. Because across her abdomen, is, without a doubt, a scar from a serious burn. Her skin is raised and damaged, purplish almost.
I look back up at her, and she looks terrified. Her eyes are on mine, and I know what she’s thinking. She’s thinking I’ll be disgusted. She’d be fucking wrong. The most beautiful things in this world are created from the ugliest pieces that are molded together until they become something that will take your breath away.
Amalie is one of those beautiful things.
“Nothin’ could make me think you weren’t the most beautiful fuckin’ woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. Nothin’.”
Her bottom lip trembles, and I catch one lone tear that slides down her cheek with my thumb.
“If someone fuckin’ hurt you, Amalie, rest assured, I will make them wish they were never born.”
She shakes her head. “No,” she whispers. “No one hurt me.”
I study her, and she bites her bottom lip, and fuck if my cock doesn’t lurch in my pants. She’s the most beautiful, mysterious fucking woman I’ve ever laid eyes on, and I want to know every inch of her. Inside and out. I reach for her jeans and unbutton them, sliding the zipper down slowly, glancing up at her once to see her watching me with a nervous but lusty expression.
Lust looks fucking breathtaking on her.
I peel her jeans down her legs, going down with them. As I go past her soft, white panties, my cock strains so hard I’m afraid it’ll break out of my jeans. She lifts her leg and I slide one foot out, then carefully, the other. It takes a bit of shuffling, and wincing from her, because of the swelling, but I get them off. I toss them aside too and reach for her panties. I hear her take in a quick burst of air, and I hesitate, thumbs hooked into the side.
I look up at her.
“Tell me you don’t want me to do this, baby, and I’ll walk out of here. But know this, I fuckin’ want it, more than I’ve wanted anything’ in my life.”
She leans forward, and I swear, I fucking swear, my heart stops beating. “Keep going.”
Her voice is barely a whisper, but I hear her words clearly. I lower her panties. I take her in once I’ve tossed them to the side, and my breath freezes in my lungs. Fucking. Perfection. She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve seen. Not because of her body, I’ve seen nicer bodies, but because of the heart that matches her body. I stare at it with appreciation, with awe, with lust, with need.
I want her, and I’m going to do whatever it takes to have her.
Whatever it takes.
-8-
AMALIE – NOW
My heart is slamming against my rib cage as I stare down at him. He’s looking at me with an intensity I’ve not felt in my life. He’s staring at me like I’ve stopped his entire world, and the only thing penetrating his vacant thoughts are me. Just me. Slowly, his head tips back and he looks at me, eyes blazing.
“You’re fuckin’ incredible,” he tells me, the words slow, dragged out.
For the first time, I wish I could hear his voice. I wish I could hear the way it sounds. Is it husky? Raspy? Thick? Deep? Instead, I feel it. I reach down, and touch his chest, whispering, “Say more.”
“Can’t take my eyes off of you.”
I feel the rumble of his deep voice through my hand, and my heart starts pounding harder. Yes. Utter perfection.
“More,” I breathe.
“Goin’ to take your bra off so I can see your pretty tits, then we’re gettin’ in that shower until you moan my name.”
My skin prickles. Feeling the vibrations of his words through my fingers is like learning to breathe for the first time. A little unnatural at first, but once you ease up and let it in, it’s as if you’re suddenly free. He rises to his feet, reaching around me and unclipping my bra.
I shouldn’t be doing this.
I know that.
My mind isn’t in the right place, I know it isn’t, but I can’t stop myself. I don’t want to stop myself. I need to feel him. I need something to make this emptiness inside me disappear, just for a moment. Malakai is something else, he makes me feel things that terrify me.
I swore I wouldn’t, but tonight I’m going to let him have me.
Just tonight.
He steps back, and with eyes full of lust and a heart full of desire, I watch him shrug off his jacket, letting it drop to the floor. Then he reaches down, pulling his shirt up and over his head, revealing the most incredible, most powerful body I’ve ever laid my eyes on. Bronze skin pulled tight over firm, bulging muscles.
That’s the first thing I see.
The second is the tattoos winding over his chest and down his stomach. Heaven. Dangerous. Deadly. I bite my bottom lip, suddenly nervous. The power he holds is utterly terrifying, and yet I can’t look away. He takes the top of his jeans and unbuttons them, letting them slide down his legs. I don’t see them hit the floor.
Because I can’t move.
My eyes are trained in on him, and I have forgotten how to breathe.
The top half of him was something, but him as an entire package is something else. I’ve never seen a man that looks so strong, so powerful, and so ridiculously gorgeous. He could snap you with one flick of his hand, and yet at the same time you want those hands on you, cupping your cheek, running over your body, fixing everything that is broken.
My eyes slide down to the equally powerful, strong and thick part of him standing upright between his legs, and my cheeks burn. He has a ring, right through the top, and for a moment, I just stare at it, mouth slightly agape. I’ve never seen anything like it, not once in my entire life. Granted
, I’ve not been with many men, but I don’t know that I’d call Malakai a man.
No.
He’s a force. A strength. An undeniable pull.
Perfection.
“Never seen a cock ring, sweetheart?”
I look away, flushing, and cross my arms over my chest. He steps forward, reaching over and pulling my hands down, holding my eyes, the intensity in his rather terrifying. “Do not pull away from me, Amalie. Do not hide. Do not cover up. Every flaw, every perfection, everythin’ about you is mine. Don’t ever take that away.”
I swallow.
I’m in too deep, I know I am, but I can’t seem to stop myself.
“You don’t know me,” I whisper. “Not really. We’ve not talked about ourselves, or our lives. How can you possibly be so sure I’m yours?”
“Because, like you don’t need sound to feel. I don’t need words to feel. I can read it, I can see it, I live it.”
Dammit.
What am I doing?
Malakai pulls me gently into the warm shower. Carefully, helping me so I don’t put weight on my throbbing ankle. When the water hits me, I moan, needing its warmth to ease my broken body. He leans down, filling his palm with soap. He runs it over my body, starting at my shoulders and slowly moving down, over my breasts, kneading them as he does.
All the while his eyes hold mine.
“I’m not going to fuck you in here tonight. I will have you, though, Amalie. For the rest of my fuckin’ life. But now isn’t the time to start that.”
I think I just fell in love with him.
God dammit.
He keeps rubbing the soap over my breasts, making my nipples perk to life. I whimper, I can’t help it, it feels so incredible to have hands on me again. Hands that want me. Hands that need me. I close my eyes for a moment and just relish in how good it feels.
His hands move down, the soap mostly gone off them, and he circles around and gently grabs my bottom, squeezing it in his hands. I moan and open my eyes, glancing down at him. He looks up, water trailing over his massive body, green eyes sparkling, hair falling wet over his forehead. “You have a beautiful ass, sweetheart.”
