Blaze (Deceit and Desire Book 6)

by Cassie Wild

  But I had no intention of doing that. I was going to grab on and hold on tight. If she didn’t want me in her life, she’d have to tell me that, and then, and only then would I let her go.

  Reaching up, I brushed her hair back from her face. “I’ll take you wherever you want to go,” I offered.

  “Wherever?” she asked.

  I nodded. “I can take you to your cousin’s,” I said. “I can take you home with me. Just say the word. Where do you want to go?”

  She leaned against me, sliding her arms around my waist and cuddling in close against me.

  “I want to be with you,” she whispered.

  “Trice,” Suria said, her voice weak.

  “We’ll call tomorrow,” Nicco interjected. “Maybe we can get lunch, let them talk.”

  I nodded, but all of my attention was focused on Trice, the feel of her in my arms.

  She was safe.

  She was here.

  And she wanted to be with me.

  At my apartment, I waited for Trice to climb off the bike before doing the same.

  She rubbed her belly, an almost absent gesture, and I reached out, covered her hand with mine.

  She tipped her head back, staring up at me.

  “I think I’ll need to get a car,” I said abruptly. She lifted her brows. “You know…” I pressed my fingers against her belly a little more firmly. “It will probably be more comfortable for you. And safer.”

  Her eyes widened. “Oh.” A flush settled across her cheeks.

  I dropped a kiss on her nose and took her hand. “Let’s go inside.”

  Once inside my place, I pulled her up against me and pressed my lips to the back of her head. “I was so worried we wouldn’t get there in time,” I whispered. “I’m sorry we didn’t get there sooner.”

  She turned in my arms and curled up against me. I loved how she did that, like she just couldn’t get close enough.

  “Ravenna said it wasn’t a real marriage. Just like you said. There was no license, and they threatened me, so it’s invalid. I’m not married to him. I don’t need to do anything about it.”

  I skimmed my hand down her back. “It’s over now.” She shivered against me. “Are you cold?”

  “No.” She tilted her head back, and I looked down, saw the look in her eyes.

  “Make love to me,” she whispered. I lifted my hands to frame her face. Her mouth trembled as she said softly, “I keep hearing his breathing, his voice. I need to forget it. Make it all go away, Lane.”

  I swept her up into my arms and carried her down the hall to my bedroom.

  “I can do that,” I said.

  Once inside my room, I set her down, then slowly stripped each piece of clothing away.

  She shivered again once I had her naked, and I caught her hands, guiding them to my chest. “Your turn. Undress me, Trice.”

  Her eyes widened, but she complied, pushing my shirt up until I had to take over, pulling it over my head and tossing it aside. She unzipped my jeans, and I grunted as she stroked me through my shorts.

  I wanted to cover her hand with mine, rock into her touch, but this wasn’t about me.

  I sure as hell didn’t argue, though, as she explored me through the material, rubbing the flat of her hand against me, teasing the head with her fingertips.

  Finally, though, she returned to the task of my clothes and pushed my jeans down. Her hair brushed against my thighs as she bent to shove them lower, and I muffled a groan as her breath ghosted over my skin.

  Easing back, I kicked my way free of the jeans and nudged her back up against the bed. She sank down on it, but when she went to scoot back, I stopped her. Kneeling on the floor, I pulled her hips to the edge and nudged her thighs apart.

  “I want to taste you,” I said, pressing my lips to her knee, then moving higher. She was breathing hard by the time I reached the crease of her thigh. She jumped when I blew a puff of air against her, then bucked when I leaned forward and nuzzled her wet folds with my nose.

  She was already wet when I pressed my mouth to her, wet and slick and sweet.

  She cried out and shoved her hands into my hair.

  When she pulled me up against her more completely, possessiveness rolled through me.

  The hot, salty taste of her rolled over my tongue as I slid it through her folds.

  Moving up, I found her clit and flicked it, bit down softly.

  She wailed and brought her knees up, squeezing my head. I reached up and pushed her thighs open wider, exposing her.

  Hard, heavy breaths ripped out of her as I worked her, pushing her closer and closer to the edge of her control.

  I wanted her to go flying, wanted to feel it.

  She moaned, her hips rocking up against my mouth as I ate her up, greedy for everything she’d give me.

  I brought her right to the edge of her orgasm, and when I felt it start, I moved to cover her, driving into her just as she started to erupt.

  “You’re so tight,” I muttered, pressing my mouth to hers.

  She whimpered against my lips, then to my surprise, she caught my lower lip between her teeth and bit me.

  It almost drove me out of my mind.

  Catching her head between my hands, I shoved up onto my elbows and stared down at her.

  She watched me, her expression rapt, eyes glazed.

  “Trice,” I whispered.

  She wiggled and whimpered and twisted, so hot and sexy, I couldn’t stand it.

  “Lane,” she said, her voice raw and throaty, almost unrecognizable.

  An ache settled in my chest, heavy, so full I thought it might crack me open. Pressing one hand against her cheek, I angled her face up to meet mine. Her mouth was soft and damp, her breath coming in ragged pants as I kissed her.

  We settled into a slow, almost lazy rhythm, one that didn’t quite fit the wild hunger that had driven me almost crazy just seconds earlier. She stirred me to tenderness when it shouldn’t have been possible.

  Her arms curling around my shoulders, she tugged me closer.

  I kissed her again, and she opened wider, her tongue sliding out to meet mine.

  Her slick, wet pussy gripped tight, squeezing me in milking sensations that threatened to drive me mad as she arched up.

  Her long hair tangled around us as I rolled onto my back, pulling her along with me so that she straddled me, her weight driving my cock deeper into her.

  She sat up slowly, staring down at me with wide, needy eyes.

  The shadow of a bruise darkened her arm.

  I forced my eyes away from it, not wanting anything to darken the moment.

  I cupped her hips, watching her face as I said, “Ride me, Trice.”

  She did, her hands braced on my shoulders, her head falling back so that her long, silken hair fell in a sexy, chaotic mess down her spine.

  I wanted those moments to last forever.

  But as her pussy went tighter and her moves turned more frantic, I knew I wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer. Sliding a hand up her thigh, I sought out the curls between her legs, the tight bud of her clit.

  She jolted, thrusting herself against my fingers.

  The movement of her hips grew more frantic, and her eyes started to look glazed.

  Just as her orgasm hit, I felt a warning jolt shudder down my spine and spread out until it hit my balls. They drew tight against my body, and I hissed out a breath, my fingers tightening on Trice’s hips. Her movements had slowed. I rocked her back and forth, arching up into the snug, wet heat of her body.

  She whimpered, her nails scoring my chest.

  I loved it, every last, little detail.

  She cried out as I arched up, my climax finally slamming into me, obliterating all conscious thoughts.

  Above me, I felt her shuddering and shaking, and I ground against her, felt the ripples as another mini-orgasm worked through her.

  As she collapsed against my chest, I closed my eyes.

  A profound sense of bliss washe
d over me, and I wrapped her in my arms.

  Trice snuggled in closer.

  I liked that.

  I liked it a lot.

  Sliding a hand up, I curved it over her neck and turned my mouth toward her, seeking out skin. I found her temple and kissed her, hearing a vague murmur escape her just as sleep slid in and claimed me.

  Sixteen

  Trice

  The clock seemed to be moving even slower now than it had been the last time I looked at it.

  “It won’t move any faster if you glare at it,” Suria said, her voice calm.

  I looked over at her, wondering how it was even possible for her to be calm.

  It was her father’s trial.

  It had been over a month since Lane, Ravenna, and the others had found me at Ephraim’s.

  The Christmas rush was going on, but with the trial winding down, I felt almost oblivious to it.

  Earlier that day, the closing arguments had been given, and now, we waited for the jury to come back with a decision.

  Gabriel’s was just one of several trials going on, the first to come to a conclusion too.

  Almost all of us were testifying.

  Joelle wasn’t, but the DA had said that between my testimony and Suria’s, there was no reason to put Joelle on the stand. He’d also told us that one of the reasons he wanted to wrap up Gabriel’s trial was so he’d have some bargaining chips.

  I wasn’t sure what he meant until Nicco later explained. “If Gabriel is found guilty – and the DA must think he’s going to be – then he’s got quite a bit to hold over him. So he’s probably hoping to flip Gabriel and have him testify against Ephraim and others in the clan, maybe even Croft and TU.”

  The clan was in shambles. Almost all the elders and important families had somehow been involved in the drug-running that had been going on between a few members of the Devil’s Firstborn and those in my clan. I’d had no idea they were running drugs as well as scams. Drugs, alcohol…who knew what else they were involved in.

  I’d get an idea though.

  Croft’s trial started next week, and Lane planned on being there. I’d be there too. For him. Just like he’d been here for me.

  The steady, heavy tread of boots had me looking up, and I spied Lane just as he rounded the doorway. He held a familiar green can in his hand, and I sighed in relief.

  Morning sickness came and went, but the only thing that seemed to want to stay in my belly as far as liquids went was lemon-lime soda, and I was dying of thirst.

  Of course, in about twenty minutes, I’d have to go pee, but I’d take the trade-off.

  “Your stomach upset?” Suria asked, sympathy in her voice.

  “No, I’m just thirsty all the time,” I told her, making a face. “And I can’t tolerate water. Tea isn’t too bad, but the doctor wants me to limit caffeine.”

  Lane dropped a kiss on my head and moved over to one of the empty chairs. We were in a small alcove in the courthouse, the same one we’d used almost every day when the trial paused for breaks.

  I went to sit down next to him, ignoring the tight look Suria gave him.

  They were slowly starting to get along.

  She no longer looked like she wanted to bite things when she said his name, so that was good.

  Lane told me he wasn’t worried about it, and as long as it took her to forgive him, he’d wait it out. He understood her anger, after all. He loved me too.

  I still wanted her to get over it, but I knew I couldn’t force her to accept him. It would have to happen in her own time.

  She sat down next to Kian, adjusting as he wrapped an arm around her, her eyes holding mine.

  “I understand the next trial starts on Monday.”

  I nodded, rolling my eyes. “At this point, I’ll never get back to work.”

  I was living with him now. I’d initially planned to keep my job working on weekends so I could keep up with the trials, but that was before I’d realized how exhausting it would be to do both, being pregnant and all. There were days when I slept twelve hours a day. The doctor told me it was fine, that some women were more tired than others.

  Lane thought it might be stress. “You dealt with a lot of shit for a long time,” he’d told me after reading his sixth or seventh pregnancy book, “and now you’re seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. Your body is playing catch-up.”

  He’d also told me not to worry about work until after the trials were done, even after the baby came, if that was what I wanted.

  I was uneasy with the idea of not working, but until I could manage to keep my eyes open without fighting the urge to yawn non-stop, I figured I’d hold off on the job part. At least until after I was done sitting in a courthouse four or five days a week.

  “Do you think they’ll decide today?” I asked, swinging my high-heel clad foot back and forth as I looked at the clock. The trial had ended shortly before lunch.

  That had been three hours ago.

  The lawyers had told us that sometimes a verdict could take a few hours or a few days. I didn’t think I could take a few days of this.

  Suria looked uncertain.

  Kian shrugged.

  One by one, all eyes turned to Nicco, since he was the only one who had any real experience with trials.

  “It’s hard to say,” he said, holding up his hands.

  Ravenna sat with him, her hands folded in her lap, her mouth in a tight line. She looked as anxious and uncomfortable as Suria and I both seemed to feel. She hadn’t been able to be on hand for the whole trial – her job hadn’t allowed it.

  But for the closing arguments, she’d been here.

  Now she turned her head and looked over at Nicco, reaching out to take his hand. “What do you think?” she asked.

  “I think…” He blew out a hard breath of air. “I think they’ll find him guilty. The evidence was all compelling, and it’s not like he presented himself as very likable or sympathetic.”

  The public defender had tried to make my uncle seem sympathetic, but it would take more skills than she had at her disposal to make that happen.

  Nicco opened his mouth to say something else, but at that moment, one of the suited lawyers appeared at the doorway. Behind the shield of his glasses, Ruben Stanton’s eyes were unreadable. “The jury is back with a verdict.”

  One by one, we all stood.

  Lane took my hand.

  I squeezed his back, all the nerves I felt fluttering to life inside me.

  Suria moved to stand by my side, and out of impulse, I took her hand in my free one. “You ready for this, cousin?” I asked.

  She nodded. “Ready for it all to be over,” she said, her voice weak.

  “Me too.” I didn’t mention the rest of the trials left to come. I knew for her, this one was the hardest.

  We walked together to the doors, disengaging hands just before we had to go inside. I sat with Lane, Suria, and Kian on the other side, while Nicco and Ravenna sat by them.

  The next few moments passed in a blur.

  We rose as the judge re-entered the courtroom.

  My blood roared in my ears as the bailiff started to talk.

  I could hardly make out anything the judge said at first, and I cleared my throat, the sound overly loud in the silence of the courtroom.

  I caught the final few words, just barely.

  “…find the defendant…”

  “We find him guilty, Your Honor.”

  “And on the count of…”

  I couldn’t breathe.

  The judge was still talking.

  Then the head juryman was speaking.

  “We find him guilty, Your Honor.”

  And on it went. Down the list of charges, four in all.

  Each one, he was found guilty.

  Off to my left, I saw Gabriel Marks standing behind the defendant’s table and his shoulders, always so proud and arrogant, slumped in defeat.

  I closed my eyes and buried my face against Lane’s arm.

&
nbsp; “We won,” I said, my voice weak.

  “You did.”

  Blindly, I reached out and caught Suria’s hand.

  She was already reaching for mine.

  “We won,” I said to her.

  “We sure as hell did.”

  Seventeen

  Lane

  “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  Trice gave me a wan smile as she sat down at the breakfast bar. Her face was paler than normal, her eyes seeming darker. “I’m fine. Just…stunned,” she said frankly. “We won. That part of it is over. I’m in shock.”

  Bracing my hands on the island, I studied her face for a hard moment, then nodded. “Suria called again, wanted to make sure you didn’t want to join them all for dinner.”

  “No.” She made a face, pressing her hand to her belly. “I never know when a smell is going to set me off. My luck, somebody at the next table would end up ordering fish, and I’d spent the entire table on my knees in front of the porcelain throne.”

  “I’m sorry, baby.”

  She waved a hand at me. “So am I. If life was fair, men would get to share the burden of morning sickness.” She heaved out a sigh, then her face brightened. “What is that I smell?”

  I’d started cooking more the past six weeks, determined to make sure she ate well.

  While I hadn’t been bad in the kitchen, my skills previously had been more suited to frying up a burger or grilling a steak, nuking some potatoes. That wasn’t enough for my pregnant girlfriend, so I’d expanded.

  “Chicken, mashed potatoes and green beans.”

  She closed her eyes and huffed out a dreamy sigh. “Sounds perfect. Anything I can do to help?”

  “You can start the beans if you want.”

  One thing I’d learned was to avoid anything too fancy or too heavy. Her belly didn’t seem to like it. and more than anything, I wanted her feeling well. I wanted the baby getting what she or he needed.

  We worked together in easy silence, and once she finished the beans, she got a lemon-lime soda from the fridge and returned to her spot at the breakfast bar.