Pyro's Final Flame : Twisted Iron MC

by Liberty Parker

  The same flame I hold in my heart is always dancing in her eyes. She’s my destiny; which is why it hurts, to the depths of my soul, that she’s keeping secrets from me.

  I’m in the club’s gym, beating the shit out of this punching bag; but it’s not working. Sweat beads on my forehead as I attempt to use it as a source of anger management. I’m bare knuckling it, needing to feel the pain as my blood runs down my arms. I can feel where my knuckles are split wide open from the impact. It doesn’t faze me, if nothing else, I’m angered at the fact that it can’t fight me back.

  “Need a sparring partner?” Mercenary comes up and holds the bag in place after my last blow hits it dead center.

  “You volunteering to have your face smashed in? Outlaw will have my balls if I mess up your pretty boy face,” I muse. That woman is a ballbuster herself, but even she wouldn’t be able to handle the sort of life I lead. Outlaw is ruthless, a master manipulator, can hold her own against any man; but she also has a soft spot for all living beings. I’ve witnessed her own thirst for blood, but I have also seen her go toe to toe with Rogue for Mercenary. So, the thought of fucking up her man, doesn’t give me the warm and fuzzies to spar with him.

  “Pyro, I haven’t had a job in months. I need this just as much as you do.” The sincerity in his voice has me reconsidering fighting him in the ring. “I’m restless, man. I need to keep my body in shape, it’s used to physical contact. Hell, I’ve been in here every single day for nearly six weeks.”

  “Outlaw not keeping you satisfied on that aspect?” I draw in my eyebrows as I await his answer.

  “Fuck off, Pyro,” he warns, pointing a finger in my direction. “My woman’s good to me. It’s not that, she takes care of that matter for me. I miss the fighting, the blood, the anticipation of my opponent’s next move. I have to keep my mind sharp and focused for when my next job comes in. You look like you could use a person to fight, that damn bag is not satisfying your thirst for a good brawl.”

  “As long as you agree to keep Outlaw off my ass, I’m down.” Walking over to my gym bag, I pull out a bottle of water and take a long gulp. Pulling out my tape and sparring gloves, I prepare for facing off with Merc.

  “Harmony doesn’t control every aspect of my life, contrary to everyone’s belief. I just try to appease her so my bed stays nice and warm. You’ve got an old lady now, so you should fully understand.”

  “Man, who are you kidding? She has your balls in a vice grip and we all know it,” I tease him, at the same time attempting to rile him up further.

  “Are you purposely trying to piss me off, Pyro?”

  “Maybe,” I internally chuckle at his fierce need to protect his manhood. “But it’s true, she says jump and you ask how high? Admit it, she’s got full control of your man card.”

  “That’s fucked up. You guys all think she whistles and I come running. I’m not her toy on a string, ya know? Just because I have a strong-willed woman doesn’t mean I’m submissive to her commands.”

  “Ya, I know. Just keeping your bed warm,” I jest, continuing to piss him off in hopes that he gives me what I need between the ropes. I want him mad as fuck, I want him to give me the fight I desperately need. “Should I pick you up a dog collar? A pet can warm the bed just as well as any woman could.” His eyes gloss over, going cold, taking him somewhere distant as he clenches his jaw alongside his fist and veins begin to protrude on each side of his neck. His breathing picks up in pace and by the shade of scarlet his face has turned, I know I’ve hit that particular nerve I was aiming for. My eyes stay fixated on his, but I am also aware of his entire body and anticipating any moves. “Oh, come on, Merc. Don’t tell me Outlaw’s got you on a demerit system, too? What is it? No strike one and no pussy for a week?” The words barely leave my lips before he finally lets loose.

  He swings, but luckily I was prepared and I block and counter just as swiftly, my fist connecting with his jawbone forcing his head to swing sideways with it. He stumbles backward slightly before slowly turning his head back to me, narrowing his eyes to slits as he spits blood to the floor. “You wanna fucking play, Pyro? That was your warm-up shot. You won’t be landing another one, brother.”

  His words confuse me as he doesn’t square off into a defensive position. I beckon him with the gesture of my hand to step forward. “Then what are you waiting for? Fine, I’ll come to you.” I warn him of my advance as I step to him, my fists still in a defensive mode. Still, he doesn’t move an inch or a muscle on his body. It’s a fucking standoff as he just stares blankly and a look of disgust lines his features along with the swelling of his jaw. What’s probably only a minute feels like minutes and it’s not looking like he’s ever gonna play this little game I’ve desperately tried to pull him into. “My fucking God. You seriously gonna just let me best you without even trying?” I question as I watch his lids lower slightly so I lower my guard.

  “Fuck no,” is all I hear roared out as he catches me with a right and left hook finishing me off with an upper cut. Three extremely fast and unexpected moves land me smack dab on my ass struggling to stay conscious. Motherfucker, he got me and I never get my own ass handed to me. Leaning down, he reminds of the only thought I currently have running through my mind, “Never let your fucking guard down, brother. You of all people know better. But, you let your anger and my falsified calm demeanor fuel and fool you.” Blood’s dripping from my chin. I think it’s split open and I can taste the metallic in my mouth. So, I, too, turn my head sideways and spit it out. “Now, get up and get your head back on straight, brother,” he tells me, offering a hand to help me up.

  “Thanks, but no,” I seethe with more anger as I turn away from him and get myself up. Not because I’m upset with Merc, but because I’m pissed off at myself for knowing better. But, he’s right and that makes this so much worse. We’re done here. If Pres comes out and finds us brawling like teenagers, I’ll be the one to take the blame and rightfully so. My anger is displaced and it just got me into a situation that on any other day would’ve had Mercenary eating pavement while begging for mercy.

  Shara

  The clubhouse is quickly turning into a nursery with all these babies as I look around watching Outlaw with Melodi, Talia with Kash, and Nova running her hand up and down her rounded belly. “Looks like the women will soon outnumber the men around here,” I tease. “Out of the four babies, three of them are girls.”

  “It takes a man to make a man,” Edge walks up, proudly stating, puffing out his chest, looking down at his newborn son nestled in Talia’s arms.

  “Oh, please, motherfucker,” Fox chimes in, taking a pull from the beer in his hand, “It takes a real man to make two babies at one time.”

  “We’re only getting started around here, brother.” Sandman walks up, placing a hand upon Edge’s shoulder. “You know as well as I do that more babies will be popping out of our women than just these three, right?” He turns to Aria and all of our gazes follow his, landing on her. He nods at her.

  A blushed hue slightly creeps up her neck and face as she twiddles her fingers around. “Well, I wasn’t really expecting to be put on the spot like this, but I guess this time is as good as ever. Around the time Fox and Nova announced they were having twin girls, we decided to start trying. I stopped taking my birth control and honestly didn’t expect it to happen this fast, but, I’m pregnant,” she announces shyly.

  “We’ll be adding another boy to the group,” Sandman declares.

  Looking at Aria, I ask, “My goodness how far along are you? You’ve sure kept this hidden so well to already know the baby’s gender.”

  “Haven’t even been to my first doctor's appointment yet. Just peed on a stick last week. Sandman’s just talking out of his ass per usual,” she scoffs at his words. “Obviously he’s hoping for a son as I am just hoping for a healthy baby.”

  “Uh, make that about a dozen sticks you pissed on, and while a son would be nice, as long as our child is healthy, that’s all I really care abo
ut too,” he replies to her.

  All the women, including Harlow, who’s been extremely quiet until now crowd around Aria and I keep some distance for now. I mean, it’s great and all, and I truly am happy for her and Sandman, but this is just something I cannot relate to at all right now. All this baby, babies, and pregnancy talk, makes me anxious. I scan the room for Pyro and realize he must still be in the gym.

  “Where the hell is Mercenary?” Outlaw asks, standing with Melodi on her hip.

  “Went to join Pyro in the gym earlier,” Rogue interrupts and then immediately brushes off. “I hear congratulations are in order?” he rhetorically asks as he begins to hand out cigars to all the men. “A party to celebrate this weekend, huh? I do love how this club is growing,” he proudly states.

  “Yeah? Well, sometimes I worry considering all the heat this club has been under lately. I mean, how much longer do we have to live with a damn bodyguard round the clock?” She cradles her belly in a protective manner. “This isn’t exactly what I envisioned for our daughters.” She looks at Fox.

  “Listen up, hormones,” Fox begins, “then you shouldn’t have gotten yourself involved with a biker. Possible threat or not, having protection around you at all times is something you might as well get over. This is our way of life and Nova knows this. Now, let’s get you back to your office, shall we?” He pauses to look over at Aria who is still giddy and swept up in conversation with the women. “Eh, she’ll be there when she gets there. I’ll go help you for the remainder of the day.”

  “I literally only have one more appointment. It’s vaccinations and anal gland expressions. And don’t think you can keep blaming everything on my damn hormones and get away with it. I know a sugar-coated reply when I hear one.” She tilts her head waiting for his response.

  “Whatever you say, dear.” He places his hand on the small of her back, ushering her toward the clubhouse doors. “Let’s go get these anal things out of the way and get you home to rest. Poor animal,” I hear him mumble as they walk away.

  Oh man is he in for it. He just has no idea. That is one disgusting and smelly job. Standing, I decide to go looking for Pyro. Outlaw walks up to me. “Going to look for our men?”

  “Yup.”

  “Good, I’m coming with you,” she informs me, still holding Melodi on her hip. “Wanna go find your daddy?”

  “Da-da,” Melodi singsongs in her tiny little voice that dares to melt some of the ice around my cold as stone heart.

  The club's gym is just around the corner from the main clubhouse. We only have to walk about three and a half minutes by foot to make it there. The entire way, Melodi entertains us with her toddler babblings. Everything in sight excites her, her squeals of enjoyment cause both Harmony and myself, to giggle alongside of her. Her happiness is contagious, and after the last couple of days I’ve had, I’m grateful for her giddiness.

  As we enter the doors, we walk in on what appears to be a stand-off between our men. “What the fuck?” Harmony’s eyes narrow on the two of them, if she were a cartoon character, you could see steam virtually protruding out of her ears. “I thought the daycare was inside, didn’t you, Shara?” She glances over at me, and I see her anger, but I also see that she’s ready to scold them like a bunch of two-year old’s.

  Deciding to join her in her game, a sly smile forms on my face. “Could’ve sworn we left the babies inside. Except for Melodi here of course. And, well, these two,” I sneer, looking at our men before pointing my thumb over my shoulder indicating the way we just came in.

  “They were all playing nicer than our men, huh?” She continues our game.

  “Fucking hell, woman, what are you two going on about?” Pyro has a look of irritation plastered on his face. Both he and Mercenary are sporting dark bruises on their faces, and I am fixated on the blood dripping from Pyro’s chin.

  “Were you two trying to rearrange each other’s faces?” I inquire, but my eyes stay glued to the blood. Sick, I know, but all I can think about are the things that sticky substance means to the two of us, the way we’ve bonded over spilling it, the way we connect on a level no one else could ever understand or comprehend.

  “Just sparring,” Mercenary spits out, blood intercepted with his saliva.

  “Da-da,” Melodi joyously calls out for her daddy as she removes her index finger from her mouth and points at him.

  He walks over to grab his daughter from her mother, only Harmony steps back and puts her hand up, stopping him in his tracks. “You will clean up before touching our daughter. It’s bad enough I’ll be scrubbing that shirt clean of blood later, I won’t be doing that to our daughter’s clothing as well. Got it?” Her mercurial voice confuses me. Is she pissed off or does she find this hilarious?

  “Ah, honey bunches, you love cleaning up my fluids,” Merc teases her.

  “Nix the honey bunches, I’m not an oat you can eat. And, those are the wrong sort of fluids I don’t mind cleaning up after.” Merc’s eyes flare at her comment, and I swear those two would be doing the horizontal mambo if Melodi wasn’t in the room with us. Why the thought of watching those two get it on, with his blood still coating his face turns me on, I’ll never know. I am not into voyeurism, but there’s something extremely sexy and molten hot about the two of them. I seem to discover new things about me each day that passes. There’s a part of me that has awakened since becoming Pyro’s woman.

  And I find that, once again, I don’t want to run from it. I want to explore it, with him, my man, my Asher.

  5

  Pyro

  I watch my woman as she watches our friends. I know what’s running through her mind, I know what it means when those embers dance behind her hazel beauties, and she rubs her thighs together the way she is. She’s turned on, I’m not sure if it’s all the blood floating through the room, or the hormones beaming from Outlaw and Merc. She’s enthralled with thoughts of watching those two fuck each other’s brains out. She almost looks confused by the thought; these are our friends, but they are magnets that pull you in when they’re in the same room as each other.

  Their sexual chemistry has always intrigued me, until I found Shara. Now, I understand that pull that couples meant when describing their undeniable connection. As pissed off at my woman as I am, I can’t help the invisible string that pulls me to her. Reaching out, I grab her hand in mine and drag her into the locker room. My dick is hard with unadulterated desire. I’m gonna fuck my woman, and not care that anyone can hear her moans of pleasure. I pull her into the stall with me. Turning on the shower, I turn around and order her, “Undress me.” Her tongue snakes out and runs along her bottom lip. Her hands shakily reach forward, she grabs the elastic waistband of my gym shorts and begins lowering them down my legs. My chest is heaving in anticipation, my legs are shaky as her hands skim the skin of my thighs. My need for her is desperate, the desire for a raw fuck hits me square in the chest. I’m gonna fucking own her; body, heart and soul.

  My anger is still present, but she is always willing and available when I need to let the monster unleash himself. As the water soaks us both, her tits are clearly visible through her white shirt. The lace of her bra stands out like a beacon to a sailor trying to find his way home. Reaching up my hands, I tweak and pinch each bud. She throws her head back and purrs from the slight twinge of pain. “That hurts so good, Asher.”

  Her words spur me further into action. Without thinking, I take the collar of her shirt in my hands and rip it straight down the middle. Earlier I felt like smashing everything, now my strength is focused on her and getting her naked as quickly as possible. “Take your clothes off, Shara, or I’ll remove them myself.” She knows that her lace panties and bra won’t be safe from being shredded in half if I have to do this personally. I’ve ruined a few pair in our time together, which didn’t please her any. She’s a hard bitch, but she loves her lacy undergarments. This woman is my kryptonite, I can’t control myself when it comes to sinking into her tight, wet, hot pussy. She hastily dis
robes; once the last article leaves her body, I grab her by her hair and turn her around. I plaster the front of her to the cold tiles surrounding us. Her breasts are flattened like pancakes from the pressure I’ve placed on her. Her head is turned to the side, she’s watching me from her peripheral vision, as her chin rests upon her shoulder, anticipating and awaiting my next move. “Spread your legs, my little savage.” She hesitates, which causes me to roar out, “Now, Shara!” My need for domination is forefront in my mind's eye, she needs to comply with my demands; otherwise, I’ll lose all control and take her with a power she’s never experienced from me before. The authority from my tone has her body swarming in goosebumps. She loves the caveman in me, but she doesn't realize how close I am to snapping. “Today’s not the day to defy me.” She opens her legs slightly, obeying, yet not. She knows I want them spread as wide as she can make them, but she’s only opened them a couple of insignificant inches. Growing tired of her insubordination, I take my feet and kick hers out to where I want them. “Why do you feel the need to test me?”

  “I want to know how far you’ll go.” She always gives me honest answers which thrills me. On the other hand, times like this, she needs to just do as she’s told and not rock the boat. The waves will come crashing down on us both if I don’t have a reign on my actions.

  Lining my stiff cock up with her now slick entrance, I push hard, burying myself deep within her tight warmth; letting my action be the answer she was seeking. She cries out her agony as I stretch her walls before the sound turns to that of a pleasurable moan. Pistoning my hips, I pull out to just the tip before slamming back inside of her. I watch as she clamors, desperately trying to find a grip on the tiled wall in front of her. With each thrust, I push the air of the last breath taken from the confinement of her lungs; releasing grunts, moans, screams, and cries. Reaching up from her waist, I pin her arms above her head against those tiles as I entwine my own fingers with hers; holding them firmly in place. The water streams down our faces and bodies, leaving us both shifting around for our next breath. “Never forget who you belong to,” I remind her, breathing my words into her ear, watching as the water cascades down the bridge of her nose landing on her cupid's bow before she opens her mouth and drinks it in.