I climb out of the truck and stomp into the quiet clubhouse, making my way to my room. It only takes a second for my eyes to adjust and land on the curled-up ball in the bed. She has to work today, but I don’t give a fuck right now. We’re hashing this shit out.
I slam the door closed and flip the light on. I watch as her body jerks awake, and she sits up with her wild red hair and big green eyes, her chest heaving with her startled breathing. I stomp toward her and ignore her gasp, along with her trembling body.
Wrapping my hand around the back of her neck, I grip her hair in my fingers and wrench her head back, lowering my face to hover above hers, and I press my lips to her soft ones, taking her in a hard, bruising kiss.
Chapter Twelve
CLEO
His lips. Dammit, they own me, every part of me. When I gasp, his tongue slides inside of my mouth and owns me all over again. I should pull away, kick his ass out, but I can’t.
I don’t know that I could ever truly walk away from him. I think my body wouldn’t allow it. I hate myself for it, too. I was ready to run, then one kiss and I’m rendered his all over again.
“Shit stops now, Clee,” he whispers against my lips.
I lift my hands and try to push him away, but he doesn’t budge, except to press his knee into the mattress and climb onto the bed and over the top of me. He leans down, forcing me onto my back as he stares at me, just millimeters from my face. I can feel his breath fanning my skin with each exhale.
“Paxton, or should I call you Torch?” I ask, lifting a brow.
“You’ll call me Pax. I’m your Pax when my dicks inside of you, sweetheart,” he murmurs as his nose slides alongside mine.
“That’s not going to happen,” I say weakly.
“Yeah, baby, in about fifteen seconds,” he whispers before his lips touch mine again. Again, I melt.
My entire body trembles as his warm palm slides beneath my sleep tank and gently wraps around my breast. His fingers find my nipple and lightly tug on the tight bud, which forces a moan to escape from my mouth as I wrench my head back.
“Pax,” I breathe.
My top is roughly hauled off of me, and my shorts pulled off seconds later. I open my eyes to see Paxton on his knees dropping his shirt to the floor and unbuckling his jeans in front of me. My eyes widen when he pulls them down over his hips, along with his boxer briefs, and wraps his big hand around his hard length.
“Spread your legs, sweetheart,” he whispers.
I shake my head. It’s been so long, and I’ve always been so shy in bed, never one to just show off that part of my body. My legs tremble as his free hand slides up the inside of my thigh.
Wrapping his strong fingers around me, he presses my thighs open. My eyes widen as he lowers down in front of me, his mouth at my center Then his eyes flick up to meet mine.
“When I tell you to spread your long legs so that I can see your exquisite pussy, I expect you to, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his warm breath touching my center.
“Paxton,” I say as my face heats. I know I’m blushing.
“Love that you’re thirty fuckin’ years old and you still blush,” he rumbles before his tongue snakes out and he licks my entire entrance.
My hands fly to his hair, feeling the soft strands with my fingers, something he didn’t have all those years ago, when he was in the military and wore his hair in a traditional high and tight. I grip the strands as he nuzzles my clit before sucking it between his lips, his teeth grazing me.
“Holy shit,” I cry out, lifting my head slightly as my mouth falls open.
One of Paxton’s hands slides up my waist and cups my breast, his fingers toying with my nipple while the other moves to where his mouth is. Two fingers fill me as his mouth moves to focus on my clit.
“Oh, god,” I moan as I roll my hips to accept his fingers inside of me, my eyes rolling in the back of my head.
I’m so close, on the verge of my climax as his tongue flicks and he sucks my clit over and over again, his rhythm feeling delicious but not enough to send me over the edge.
My thighs start to shake as I climb closer toward my release, and I let out a cry as he completely releases me, his fingers taken from my center, along with his mouth.
“Ready for me, baby?” he asks as he lines his cock up with my center.
I can feel the head pressing against my entrance, and I’m so ready for him, I don’t think I’ve ever been more ready in my entire life. I want it now; I want him now. I shouldn’t, I know I shouldn’t—but right now, I don’t care.
Those stormy blue eyes are looking at me, and I see my Pax in them. The man-boy I had twelve years ago, he’s still there.
He slowly sinks inside of me, hooking his arm beneath my knee as he does, spreading me wider for him with each centimeter that fills me. My teeth bite down on my bottom lip as I try to relax and allow him inside of me.
“Fuck, you feel good, sweetheart,” he whispers when he’s inside of me completely. His free hand slides beneath my head, and his fingers twist in my hair.
“Pax,” I whimper. I need him to move, or do something, anything.
“I don’t fuck as sweet as I used to, baby. You gotta tell me if I hurt you, okay?” he murmurs against my ear.
“Okay,” I whisper.
Paxton’s hand beneath my knee presses that leg against the mattress, and I am surprised that it doesn’t hurt, as I’m not extremely flexible. Then he rears back, pulling almost completely out of me before he slams into my core with a moan.
“Goddamn,” he grunts as his fingers tighten in my hair. “Look at me.”
My eyes open and I look directly into his light blue ones. His dark hair has fallen slightly, and I suck in a breath at the serious look that’s etched across his face.
“I was a fucking fool—for years, a fucking idiot,” he announces before he repeats his move, slamming back inside of me a bit harder with each thrust of his hips.
I lift my arm and wrap my hand around the side of his neck as he continues to drive into me, deep and hard. My entire body moves with each down stroke, but it feels so much better than I’d ever imagined.
My fingers tighten at his neck, and I grip onto him, holding him as my body climbs higher and higher with each drive forward of his hips.
“Gonna come for me, sweetheart?” he asks.
I bite my bottom lip and nod, unable to find the words to speak. He grins as the hand holding onto my leg slides down my thigh before his thumb presses against my clit, circling me. A loud moan escapes me, and I gasp, my whole body locking up with my release.
“Fuck,” he curses, moving his hand from my clit to join his other hand fisting my hair.
Then, with wild abandon, he fucks me hard and fast. There’s no rhythm to his movements, and I don’t care. Each stroke feels like I’m in heaven. He suddenly stills above me and lets out a long deep groan before shoving his face in my neck.
Paxton’s lips softly kiss my neck, licking and gently nibbling my skin as he lazily slides in and out of me, causing me to moan in delight.
I wrap my hand around his shoulders and hold onto him, unsure of what to do, unbelieving that this has even happened—especially after I cried myself to sleep.
“We should talk,” I whisper.
“You on the pill, sweetheart?” he whispers in my neck.
I freeze at his question before I jerk in his hold, but he acts as though he doesn’t even notice, still lazily moving his hips, filling me with his semi-erect cock.
“Yeah, I am,” I say through gritted teeth.
“Good. Nothin’ else to talk about then. This, it proves there’s something between us that needs to be fed,” he announces. He lifts his head and gingerly releases my hair before holding himself up on his elbows so he doesn’t squish me.
“There’s plenty to talk about.”
“You don’t want to be part of this life I got here, Clee? That’s cool. You don’t have to come to shit, except a couple family parties a year.
Some brother’s Old Ladies are like that,” he shrugs as he pulls out of me and rolls to his back.
I watch as he removes the rest of his clothes, his boots and jeans. He then gathers me in his arms and pulls me halfway on top of him, his legs tangling with mine.
“What do you mean by that?” I ask, lifting my head.
“Some of the Old Ladies don’t come here unless it’s a family party. Don’t know why, maybe they don’t like the scene? Maybe they don’t like the whores, the sex, or the booze; or maybe their men don’t want them here. Fuck if I know their personal shit. You wanna be that way? Then it’s cool,” he announces.
“We’re going to revisit this, after we talk about whores, and after you tell me the last time you were tested for STIs and if I need to get a test done myself, since you just took me unprotected,” I say bitchily.
“Not used to this attitude from you. Though, would like it a hell of a lot more if you weren’t here thinkin’ I’d even take a slight chance at hurting you like that, Cleo,” he spits. “Get tested every year. Never fuck bitches, whores or otherwise, without protection.”
“Me?” I ask, raising a brow.
“You’re my fuckin’ wife. I’m thirty-two years old, babe, and I ain’t using a fucking condom with my goddamn wife,” he growls.
“Paxton, I’m not comfortable with all of this. I don’t think I can just turn a blind eye, not to the women,” I say.
“What is it you think this will be between us, exactly?” he asks, gripping my hair tightly and tugging my neck back for me to look at him.
“I don’t know. This group of yours, this life, I don’t know anything about it. But I’ve seen those women, and I know that they’re available to you, for you. I can only imagine that you’ve enjoyed that perk of your new life and quite often. And what exactly do you do for money? And how did I not know that your job in the Air Force had to do with explosives and that you’re called Torch? I don’t understand any of it; and what I’m coming to learn, I don’t like very much,” I say as my chest heaves. My breathing becomes erratic as I completely and totally freak out in a panic.
“You need to relax, sweetheart,” he murmurs. His fingers start to sift through my hair in an attempt to calm me.
“I can’t,” I admit, clenching my jaw.
“What I can tell you is that you don’t need to worry about how I make money, just know that I make it and I make more than enough to take care of you. I’ve fucked women in the past. I haven’t been a saint, sweetheart. And I didn’t tell you about my job in the Air Force because I didn’t want you to worry. It was dangerous—really fuckin’ dangerous,” he murmurs calmly.
“I’m thinking your job now is the same, since you’re mixed up with The Cartel.”
“I’m not mixed up with them, babe. Personally, I can’t stand the fuckers, and all the shit they’re threatening or attempting to do is fucked. We don’t mess with women and children; not like they do. It’s why I was worried about you. They’re unpredictable,” he explains. I bite the inside of my cheek, trying to understand him, but knowing that I don’t and probably never will.
“I don’t know you,” I blurt out.
“What?”
“I don’t know you. I don’t know anything about you. I loved you so much, but did I really? Because how could I if I didn’t even know your job, anything about your childhood, or even how you liked your coffee?” I ramble.
For whatever reason, I can’t seem to stop talking to him. Maybe it’s because he’s right here and he’s calm and willing to talk back with me, instead of getting pissed off and walking away. I don’t know; but if he’s going to be open, then I want it all—as much of it as I can get.
“Whatever you want to know, Cleo, we have time now,” he murmurs.
“Do we? How much?” I ask, looking into his light blue eyes. They’re relaxed and sated from earlier.
“Our whole lives, sweetheart,” he mutters as his nose runs alongside mine.
“How long before you go to those women without telling me? Or will you just always go to them,” I ask as tears fill my eyes.
“Fucking hell, woman,” he grunts as he pushes me off of him and then slides out of bed.
“It’s a valid concern,” I point out as I pull the sheet up to cover my naked body.
“Is your self-esteem that fucking low that you think I’m going to run right over to them? Is it so low that you can’t see the way I look at you? So low that you can’t understand why I would want to build a life with you again, pick up where I stupidly left off? Christ, Cleo. You aren’t eighteen anymore. You’re a fucking thirty-year-old woman. If I wanted a self-conscious eighteen-year-old, I could have one. Fuck, I could have ten. Figure out what the fuck you want and do it fast,” he growls as he grabs his jeans and then storms out of the door, slamming it behind him.
I stare at the closed door, cursing myself for not standing up to him and for just spreading my legs for him, as if he has any kind of access to my body. Just because we’re technically married by the state of Texas, doesn’t mean that we have to have sex.
I pinch my eyes closed tightly and shake my head. I need to get away from him. He makes all of my good reasoning completely fade away, and I listen to my stupid body and my heart instead of my head. I end up hurt at every single damn turn.
TORCH
Slamming the bedroom door behind me, I pull on my jeans, then make my way to the bar. I don’t give a fuck that it’s only six in the morning, I’m drinking, and I’m doing it all goddamn day.
Walking behind the bar, I search for my favorite bottle of tequila and frown when I see that it’s the last one left. Snatching it up, I walk over to the order sheet that’s hanging on the side of the bar and see that it’s not even on the list.
Figuring there must be some more cases in the back, I decide to go over to one of the sofas against the wall and open the bottle.
I don’t bother with a shot glass, choosing to drink straight from the neck, since my plan is to drink the whole fucking thing.
I don’t know how much time passes, but eventually, the bar starts filling up—brothers going in and out to start their day, get to work, check up on shit and whatnot. Then I see whores stumbling around in half-hazy sleep and the same clothes, or lack thereof, from the night before, including makeup and ratty assed hair.
“You need some company, today?” Honey asks as she slides up next to me, planting her bony ass right beside mine.
I glance down at her and notice that she looks fresh. She’s showered and changed, and her young face is free of makeup. She’s prettier without all that shit on her face, but she doesn’t hold a candle to Cleo. I open my mouth to tell her to scoot when something catches my eye.
It’s Cleo, frozen in the middle of the room, her eyes focused in on me and Honey. I’m still shirtless, my pants only zipped up, not buttoned, and she’s nestled in close to my side.
It looks damning as hell, but I’m so fucking drunk, I can’t seem to find it in me to explain. Besides, she already wants me to be this big asshole who fucks everything that breathes, who doesn’t give a shit about her, so I might as well just let her think whatever the hell she wants to.
“I need to get to work today,” she says after she closes the distance between us, her eyes zeroed in on mine and never wavering.
“Good luck with that,” I shrug, taking another swig from my bottle.
“Paxton, I have no car. Are you going to give me your keys?” she asks, raising a brow.
“Fuck no. You can ask someone for a ride,” I say, sounding like a fucking dick.
“You need a ride to Redding?” Soar asks, walking up behind her.
“I do,” she murmurs as she looks back at him.
“Sure, babe, I’ll give you one,” he grins. I don’t like what he’s insinuating, but I’ll be damned if I make a big scene. She’s completely pissed me off.
Cleo looks at me one last time, her eyes pleading for something I can’t quite read, and then she shak
es her head once as she turns and starts to walk away from me.
I watch her sweet ass sway in her tight skirt, and then red fills my vision when Soar’s hand presses against her lower back, right above that sweet ass of hers. He turns his head slightly to look at me and grins before he continues on outside of the clubhouse.
“Oh, good, the wet blanket is gone for the day. I do not know how a man like you ended up tied down to a bitch like that,” Honey says with a sigh.
“Go,” I boom.
“What?”
“Get the fuck away from me before I remove you myself—and trust me, you wouldn’t like the way I would do that,” I growl.
Honey stands and scurries away from me in mild panic, but all I can think about is the fact that Soar is touching my woman, taking her an hour away from me to work, and I’m way too fucked up to attempt to go after them.
Goddammit.
Chapter Thirteen
CLEO
“What kind of car is this?” I ask the man who introduced himself as Soar just a few moments ago.
“1967 Shelby GT500e Super Snake,” he grins as he presses his foot on the gas and sends us flying in his gorgeous white muscle car.
“Holy shit,” I breathe as he soars down the road.
I wonder if this is how he got his name, because this car practically floats.
“Got it at an auction, day I turned twenty-one,” he shrugs.
“Why then?” I ask, arching a brow.
“That’s when I got the rights to my inheritance,” he smirks with a wink.
I don’t ask him anymore. Though he’s smiling, it doesn’t seem like he wants to talk about it. The ride is silent for a bit, but then Soar starts to talk.
“Pushing him and trying to force him into someone he isn’t, that won’t get you very far.”
The Notorious Devils MC: Complete Collection BoxSet Page 123
