Amber to Ashes (The Torn Heart #1)

by Gail McHugh

  Yep. I’m gonna hurl.

  Still, the fluidity in which I conquered the task garners me not only a round of applause from the patrons, but impressed smiles from my sexy opponents.

  Following my lead, they toss back their double shots and slam their glasses onto the bar, Ryder beating Brock by a split second.

  “Not bad,” Madeline appraises, clapping. “But Amber still outdid you guys.”

  “I did. And for this, they owe me for the victory.” I smile, my brain in overdrive as I think of a proper “trophy.”

  Brock rests his hands on my hips, his eyes narrowed. “I know that look, and it’s not good.”

  “Be a good boy,” I say, tapping his nose. “You’ll both be fine.”

  Ryder lifts an incredulous brow. “Which translates into: we’re royally fucked.”

  “Maddie,” I call, jutting my chin toward Ryder. “You get him, and I’ll get Brock. I need to work off some of this alcohol.”

  “Oh, hell no.” Ryder shakes his head. “I don’t—”

  “Dance,” Madeline finishes, yanking him by the collar of his T-shirt. “We know. We know. Stop being a baby, Ashcroft. You lost. You dance.”

  I laugh and thread my fingers through Brock’s, leading us through the horde of sweaty bodies and out onto the dance floor. With the band on break and a DJ taking over, I twine my hands around Brock’s neck and pull his ear down to my lips, licking along the shell as we sink into the rhythm of Usher’s “Scream.”

  “Is this my punishment for losing?” Brock squeezes my ass and jacks me against his chest, his mouth finding the contour of my jaw. “If it is, I have absolutely no problem losing every time we battle it out.”

  “Again,” I say, a purr biting my tone, “such a naughty boy.”

  “You bring out the bad in this good boy.”

  I scoff. “Yeah. Like you weren’t bad before me.”

  “You got me there.” He smirks, tipping his head toward Madeline and Ryder. “Look at those two.”

  I glance over my shoulder, amused at what I’m witnessing. With his collar acting like a leash, Ryder begrudgingly makes his way through the throng, a pout on his face as he and Madeline step onto the dance floor. However, his pout disappears when Madeline bends over, curls her fingers around a pole, and shakes her ass against his crotch. Seemingly more than okay with what she’s doing, a smile pops across Ryder’s face.

  “Now you’re good?” Brock asks.

  “How can I not be?” Ryder grips her shoulders, grinding his hips against her. “I do have a dick, and she just kind of woke him up.”

  “Ryder!” Lee bellows from the bar, “I’m off in ten minutes, and I’m beating your ass if you fuck with my girl.”

  “Bro, I’m innocent,” Ryder throws back, a shit-eating grin curling his mouth as he fists her hair. Grinding harder against her ass, he gives it a whack and chuckles as Madeline squeals in delight. “See? It’s all her. I ain’t doing nothing she doesn’t want.”

  Narrowed eyes locked on Ryder, Lee dashes into the kitchen, a cart of dirty glasses in tow.

  Continuing her tease, Madeline giggles and flips up her head. “You’re asking for it, Ryder.”

  “No, Madeline, you’re asking for it.” Ryder plucks a bottle of beer off a passing waitress’s tray. With a wink, he fishes out a couple of twenties from his jeans, handing the hearty tip to the chick. “Don’t ya think she is, beauty?”

  Saucy smile in place, the redhead nods and slowly shoves a ready-made card between his lips. “If she doesn’t want it, I’ll gladly take it. I get off at two. Call me if things don’t work out.”

  I roll my eyes as Red shimmies through the crowd, flipping Ryder one last seductive glance before she disappears around a corner.

  “The nerve!” Madeline huffs with a pseudo-pout as she faces Ryder. “You’re dancing with me, but you take a number from some random chick?”

  Ryder pulls the card from his mouth and tucks it into his pocket. “Sorry, Mad. A man’s gotta do what he’s gotta do.”

  “I concur,” Brock says, discreetly gliding his hand below the waistband of my skirt. Heart rate spiking, my breath slips as he moves his free hand to the small of my back, tugging me closer. “Ah, no panties. I like.”

  Predatory stare locked on mine, he pushes a finger inside me, hooking my G-spot. An uncontained moan leaves my throat as my pussy spasms, stretching around his fingers.

  “What are you doing?” I breathe, my head falling back as he slides in a second, then third finger.

  “Why, I do believe I’m . . . finger-fucking you.” It comes out as a low growl. He catches my mouth in a hard kiss, our bodies moving against the unsuspecting crowd.

  In and out, out and in, he finger-fucks me ripe, the pulsing beat of the music adding to the exoticness of his onslaught. My eyes flutter closed, my instinct to fuck kicking in like a starved animal.

  “Dude, your time’s up.” Lee’s voice cracks through the air, causing me to jump.

  Brock chuckles, and I hold my breath, letting it go as he slowly drags his fingers out, making sure he brushes my clit before completely pulling them from my skirt. Hungry eyes locked on mine and still smiling, he lifts his fingers to his mouth and sucks my moisture from them. Legs quivering and breathing a stuttered mess, I’m ready to take him right here.

  A groan crawls from his chest as he stares at me. “Do you have any idea the damage I’m gonna do to that pussy when we get back to my place?”

  I nod, trying to get my body under control. “I think I have an idea.”

  “Nah, baby girl. I really don’t think you do. I’m gonna wreck it the way you like it, and then some.”

  “You’re gonna wreck what?” Madeline slurs, wiping her sweaty forehead. “Her sanity?”

  “I plan on coming close to doing just that.” Brock nods with a smirk.

  “If you haven’t already wrecked it.” Lee snakes his arms around Madeline’s waist and drags her backward into a dark corner next to the bar, straddling her over his lap as he falls into a chair.

  Brock turns to Ryder, his brow drawn up. “I gotta take a piss. Can I trust that you won’t maul my girl to death while I’m gone?”

  “Are you high?” Ryder smacks his lips together. “She’s done for if you leave her with me, and I’m not responsible when she doesn’t come back to ya.”

  “She’ll come back,” Brock calls from over his shoulder. “Just be nice.”

  “Oh, I’ll be very . . . very nice.” Ryder finishes his beer, bows his head and reaches for my hand, his eyes glimmering with mischief as he sets the empty bottle on a table. “Madam, may I have this dance?”

  My pulse lurches at the thought of physical contact with Ryder. Smiling, I lay my hand in his, aware that he’s about to make the next five minutes . . . interesting. “I thought you didn’t like dancing?”

  “Well, two things have changed since then.” He laces his fingers through mine, pulls me into his chest, and wraps his free arm around my waist. My heart sinks as he dips his mouth to my ear and whispers, “First, I like slow dancing, and in case you didn’t notice, the band’s playing ‘Sail’ by Awolnation.”

  Drummed up from too many shots and mind askew from Brock’s recent attack, I smile like an idiot, just now realizing the band’s back.

  Lips continuing to tantalize the shell of my ear, his voice tangles with the sultry beat. “Second, the girl in my arms is a better match for me. It makes the act more . . . bearable, if you will.”

  “Is she?” The question scratches up my throat, a sheen of desire further dampening my skin.

  He drops his hand from mine and reunites it with his other around my waist. “She is.” Another whisper, this one breathed soft against my cheek. He pulls me closer, his erection stroking my stomach as we sway to the music. “She can throw a man off balance, leaving him with nothing but tiny fr
agments of what used to be a pretty sane mind.” He runs his fingers up the dip of my waist, along the curve of my breasts, and curls them around my elbows, dragging my arms around his neck. A grin tugs at his lips as I knot my fingers in his hair. “And you wanna know something, peach?”

  I nod. My vision blurs, a million sensations tumbling over my skin as he sinks his forehead to mine, keeping it there.

  “I think she knows what she does to a man.” His hands find my hips, slowly clenching and unclenching. “How she completely takes over every goddamn thought he owns. Whether he’s awake or not, she’s there in his head, jacking up his universe. But hell if he wants her to stop. He’s addicted to her eyes, the way her sweet taste lingers on his tongue, and the way she moves when she’s near him.” He takes a deep breath, his barbell peeking out as he licks his lips. “So fucking in tune with her, he hears the silent call from her body when she craves his touch.”

  Blood overheated, I stare at his lips, my own quivering as he moves his along my temple, down the side of my cheek, resting them against my jaw. “Yes. I think she knows exactly what she does to a man.”

  I shiver, my words strangled. “I think you’re wrong.”

  “I think he’s right,” Brock whispers into my ear, gripping my waist from behind.

  I jump, my heart speeding toward implosion. I go to turn, but Brock holds me in place, his nose buried in the sweaty waves of my hair as he pushes his pelvis against my ass.

  “Without a doubt, he’s correct.”

  “There’s no question I am.” Ryder’s voice comes out a hungry rasp as he steps back. “I’ll meet ya at the bar.”

  “Don’t leave, bro.” Brock moves my hair from my neck, his mouth landing there, teasing, taunting. “Amber won’t mind if we both dance with her, will you?”

  “No,” I breathe, immediately shocked at my answer as I sink into the soft touch of Brock’s fingers kneading my hips. I hesitate a second, embarrassment seizing my thoughts. “Do . . . you mind?”

  “Not at all. That’s why I’m offering, baby.” Brock lightly bites my shoulder, his breathing heavy as he hooks his thumbs in the waistband of my skirt. “The thought of you sandwiched between us turns me the fuck on.”

  Convinced the alcohol’s talking for Brock, a nervous giggle erupts from my throat. I stare at Ryder, waiting for him to make a move. Frozen, Ryder offers a guarded smile, surprise evident in his loss for words.

  “Stop being a pussy, Ashcroft,” Brock says, “and put your hands on my girl.”

  Ryder blinks. “Well, since you put it that way, how can I resist?” He steps toward me, takes my face in his hands, his eyes searching, gauging my reaction. Chest pressed to mine, he whispers into my ear, “Are you sure you’re cool with this?”

  I nod, my heart galloping as our bodies sway in unison to the slow, sultry beat. Ryder grins, his fingers tiptoeing down my cheeks, along my collarbone, their journey ending on my waist, where he grips them.

  “She feels nice, doesn’t she?” Brock lifts my arms, swathing them around his neck as he feathers his mouth against my ear.

  A soft moan escapes me as I hold Ryder’s gaze, his heady cologne swamping my senses. He bites his lip, raw hunger surfacing over his face as he moves his hands to my rib cage, his thumbs drawing small, tantalizing circles just below my breasts. My pulse rocks, the perils of their seduction wrenching the oxygen from my laboring lungs.

  “Like fucking heaven.” With his eyes locked on mine, Ryder’s thumbs continue their gentle persuasion along my ribs, each pass testing new limits, nearly brushing my nipples. They bud, hardening like gemstones. Flames of sin ignite me, chills skidding across my skin as he pushes a knee between my legs. My lips part on a second moan, and Ryder smirks, my heart bouncing out of control as he grinds his hips against mine. “She’s a beautiful gift. One neither of us deserves.”

  My muscles go limp, my need for him—for them—mounting by the second. I dig my nails into Brock’s scalp as he tips my head back and slides his tongue against my neck, licking the sweat from my flesh.

  “She is a gift. But I’m not sure she realizes this,” Brock points out. “I wonder if there’s anything we could, I don’t know, do to make her aware of just how fucking sweet she is.”

  “That might be difficult,” Ryder says, a delicious grin spreading over his mouth as he coils a piece of my hair around his finger. “But I’m sure we could come up with something that would . . . satisfy her.”

  “Oh, you two are good.” I smile, their dual stimulation sucking the last vestiges of morality from my brain. “Did either of you go to school for this?”

  “No. They’re just players.” A hiccupped giggle freezes the air. “They’re about to do you real good, but real dirty.”

  I twist my head, my gaze landing on an inebriated Hailey Jacobs. Blonde hair hanging messily over her shoulders, red lips puckered into a sneer, and an arm wrapped around her friend’s waist, the chick can barely stand.

  “Christ,” Ryder mumbles. He drops his hands to my hips, a scowl anchoring his face as he stares at Hailey.

  “What’s the matter, Ryder? Afraid you and your buddy’s secret’s gonna come out?” She turns her wicked blue eyes on mine. “I thought I was the only one they liked double-teaming. Apparently I was wrong.”

  My breathing screeches to a stop. I jerk back, neither man’s possessive hold able to keep me in place. “What the hell did you just say?”

  She stumbles into my chest, and beer from her bottle splashes onto my sweater. “I’ll make it quick, bitch. Don’t feel special that they’re all over you at the same time. You’re nothing but—”

  “Shut the fuck up, Hailey,” Brock growls. He grips the back of her neck, tugging her away from me. “You’re drunk, and you’re about to catch a fucking beating if you say another word.”

  She drags a finger down Brock’s cheek, a purr seducing her tone. “Since I know you’d never rough up a woman, I find your threat entertaining but sexy. If anyone knows that I like it rough, it’d be you and Ryder, wouldn’t it?”

  Blood.

  Hers.

  I want it.

  But the poison in Brock’s eyes stills my rapid heart. What the skank said is true—Brock would never lay a hand on a woman. But she can only taunt a hungry lion for so long, and I know that look. I’ve lived in homes where it was the last warning before a man lost it.

  “No, Brock!” I yank his hand off Hailey’s neck, my pulse hammering as I glance between him and Ryder.

  Remaining silent, Ryder shakes his head.

  Rage coils through my muscles as I bring my confused gaze back to Brock’s. “What are you hiding from me?”

  “I’m not hiding anything, Ber. Let’s go.” He levels Hailey with a glare and wraps his fingers around my waist, attempting to herd me out of the bar.

  “Are you kidding me?” I spit, my tone clotted with venom. Forget not taunting the lion. I shove against his chest, hardly moving him. “Are you fucking that skank behind my back with Ryder? Is that what’s going on?”

  “No!” Brock argues, his voice barely controlled as he reaches for my hand. I wrench it back, my lips parted in silent shock. “Calm down.”

  “Calm down?” I feel heat explode, blotching across my face. “You didn’t answer the question. What the hell is she talking about?”

  “What a mess I’ve caused,” Hailey interrupts through a slur. She tilts her head, the movement unsteadying her. She falls against my shoulder, her listless weight knocking me back a few inches.

  Ryder catches her by the elbow, hauling her away from me. “What the fuck are you doing, Hailey? Huh? You getting off on this shit?”

  “I’m totally getting off on it.” She pulls her arm from Ryder’s hold. “And I’m telling the truth. I’m done with you and Brock warning me to stay away from her and not open my mouth about what happened.”

 
“What the heck’s going on?” Madeline asks, confusion pinching her forehead as she and Lee approach. “I go to the restroom, and all hell . . .” Her words die in her throat, her eyes narrowing on Hailey. “What’s she doing here?”

  “The last time I checked, I was allowed in any bar in Maryland.” Hailey turns to me, one side of her mouth curled up. “But she’s not. Maybe I should let the owner know her ID’s fake?”

  “Goddamnit! Just shut the fuck up already!” Ryder booms, a muscle ticking in his jaw. He looks at Hailey’s friend. “You sober?”

  The petite brunette nods, something akin to fear breaking out across her face.

  “Good. Get her the fuck outta here before she makes me do something I can’t take back.”

  The girl swiftly obeys and snags Hailey’s hand, but as though unaffected by Ryder’s threat, Hailey yanks it away and resumes tripping up my brain. “Let me guess, your lover boys here had the ID made for you? No surprise. They conjured up one for me too, while they were fucking me, together, at the exact . . . same . . . time. Again, you’re nothing special, bitch.”

  Confusion dips its poisonous rods into my alcohol-soaked brain as voices fade into nothing but sinister notes of chaos. I take a deep breath, my hearing sparking back to life when Hailey speaks again.

  “The only thing that actually has me surprised is that they’re willing to share a bitch whose father wasted a bullet on her mother instead of her.”

  The hairs on my neck jump, prickling at her words. Every wicked thing the skank’s ever done to me has nothing on this very moment. All coherent, rational thoughts peel from my head, tearing the sanity right out of my skull.

  I lunge, my hand gripping her neck faster than any of us can comprehend. Before I can process what’s happening, I have her on the ground, my legs straddling her Coke-bottle waist, as my fist connects with her dainty nose. Twice. With blood streaming down her rosy cheeks, she no longer looks like a porcelain doll. I barely have time to relish the destruction I’ve caused to her overpriced nose job before I’m hauled off her by Brock, his hands under my armpits as he drags me into the amped-up crowd.