The Faintest Spark: Roadmap to Your Heart, Book #1.5

by Christina Lee

  When I reached for the bottle on the shelf and began acting in kind, he protested.

  “Shhh,” I said, squeezing a drop into my palm. “Let me take care of you for a change.”

  When my fingers raked through his hair to scrub at his scalp, he sighed and shut his eyes, reveling in it. For the first time, I considered how careful and giving Mal might’ve been with Sheila. I’d always heard how in love they were and he certainly spoke respectfully of her, but now my chest tightened with envy—because of what she’d shared with this sexy, caring, strong man. Sadness now crept in that both had lost themselves, albeit in different ways, to the dark world of addiction. Suddenly it became obvious why Mal had seemed so concerned at our first solo meeting regarding the Asylum.

  You only do what you’re comfortable with. Don’t be a martyr. Your sobriety isn’t for sale.

  Those words rang genuine in my ears as I lifted the soapy washcloth. I scrubbed down his hairy chest to the dark patch at his groin above his flushed and seeping cock. When I nudged him to face the tile wall so I could wash his back, he resisted, planting his feet and shaking his head. Vulnerability was difficult for him, so I definitely wouldn’t push it. Instead, I reached behind him to run the cloth over his back and muscular cheeks, hoping I could get a better look someday.

  When I gently soaped his crease using my fingers, his breath stuttered, and his eyes sought mine. He moaned when I circled his hole and dipped my head to suck on his hardened nipple. “Okay?” I murmured against his skin.

  His hand reached up to fork through my hair as he arched his back. “Feels good.”

  After we stepped out of the shower, I made quick work of drying us off with towels and then led him to the large bed in the center of the room. He was still hard as a steel rod and I wanted nothing more than to please him. If this was the only time we could be together like this, I needed to take full advantage.

  Kissing along his jawline, I made my way to his ear. “Tell me I can taste you.”

  “Please.” His fingers slid up to connect with my neck and he pulled me into a scorching kiss, his tongue flicking eagerly against mine. “I’m dying here.”

  “Thank fuck.” I sank to my knees right there on the carpet and studied his thick and dripping cock. I began by savoring the skin around his stomach, licking along his hipbones, down one hairy thigh and up the other as he groaned and fisted my longer strands in his fingers. I avoided his shaft, stiff as a tree trunk, and moved down to his sac, feeling the weight of his balls in my hand.

  “Sawyer,” he ground out as I pulled them into my mouth, one at a time, bathing each with my tongue until he was trembling all over and could barely stand straight. I urged him to sit down on the edge of the bed so he was more comfortable, and I could take my time with him.

  I pressed open his thighs in order to settle between his legs. My hand reached out to fist the base of his cock and stroke it from root to tip. His eyes were blown wide, just hanging on to any semblance of control. He licked his lips and his fingers traced along my jaw. “I don’t know what you’re doing to me.”

  His voice was gruff and tortured, and I almost quipped that I was taking him to the dark side, but I knew this was huge for him. In essence, he was giving me a gift—allowing me to touch him like this when nobody else had.

  “I’m making you feel good,” I replied, angling my head toward his chin, peppering it with kisses. “So tell me what you need.”

  “Fuck,” he replied, his hand tightening in my hair. “I need your mouth on me.”

  I nipped at his bottom lip as our gazes tethered together for one drawn out moment. I bent down to his cock, swiping my tongue along the slit and savoring the burst of flavor on my taste buds. “Mmmmmm…”

  “Ah, damn,” he grunted as I sucked the head and hollowed out my cheeks to take more of him into my mouth. He threaded his fingers through my curls, tugging me closer as I took him deeper. “I’m not going to last.”

  “It’s cool,” I replied after drawing back to suck on the crown. “Only thing that matters is how it feels.”

  “S’good,” he muttered, canting his hips forward. After two long licks from base to crown, I doubled my efforts, taking him as far back into my throat as I could.

  When he arched his back and tightly fisted my hair, I knew he was done for. “That mouth. Fuck. I’m gonna blow.”

  My lips latched onto his tip as he cried out and spurted down my throat. My tongue lapped at the final bursts of salty sweet come. His legs went limp and his elbows sank to the sheets, completely spent. Keeping his shaft in my mouth, I coaxed every last drop then finally released his tender cock.

  His shoulders dropping to the mattress, he yanked me toward him, our arms and legs intertwining. His mouth sought mine as his tongue pressed inside and he kissed me thoroughly.

  “You like how you taste?” I murmured against his lips.

  “I like how I taste mixed with you,” he replied kissing the side of my head.

  Hot damn. How did he always know the right thing to say?

  We lay tangled and nuzzling in virtual silence as if afraid of breaking the happy and sated afterglow. I figured it was only a matter of minutes before either shame or fear took center stage, but thus far Mal only held on tight and sighed almost dreamily.

  Regardless, our time was coming to an end, and it filled my chest with a tight knot of gloom. I reminded myself it had to be this way, even if I was wrong about how he would feel after tonight. No way the president of the Disciples would continue seeing me unless it was in secret, and that wasn’t going to be something I could stomach. Not after my experience with the Asylum.

  I cleared my throat attempting not to sound too needy. “I know we’re getting on the road in the morning so I wondered…”

  “What?” he asked in a sleepy tone. “Just say it.”

  “Guess I hoped you’d stay…a little longer. No pressure.”

  “Damn, I only wish…” Things could be different. That the world could be different. He stared at me for a long beat, his eyes softening with some emotion I couldn’t quite place. “I’d love to stay. Want to keep holding you.”

  I exhaled in relief and folded myself into him as his arm stretched for the comforter to throw on top of us. Shifting, I turned just enough to burrow against his chest, his soft breath against my nape. His chin at my shoulder, his softened cock at my thigh, we drifted off to sleep.

  12

  Sawyer

  Same as many other nights, Jake appeared in my dreams, though not as menacing as before. I felt more insulated from him—like I was beneath a warm pool of water and he was aboveboard and unable to reach me. Still, I could feel my body vibrating as terror seized and I shouted something, the words sounding hollow and garbled.

  I recognized another voice in the dream. Mal. He was still here, wrapped around me. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re safe.”

  For a moment I fought his hold on me as I jerked awake and gradually remembered I was in a hotel room bed with him. We’d just gotten each other off and it was memorable…to say the least.

  Mal held steady through my thrashing, his powerful biceps anchoring me against him. As soon as I came to my senses, my body fell slack with exhaustion, safe and cocooned in his arms.

  “You were dreaming about that bastard again, yeah?” he whispered in my ear.

  “Sorry,” I mumbled groggily, my hand reaching up to wipe the fog from my eyes. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

  “No need to apologize. Glad I’m here. Wish…” There was that word again. He let it hang in the air above us and I filled in the words. Wish I could always be here. He nuzzled my neck and it felt so good, I hummed and melted further into his embrace.

  “I’m glad too…” I murmured as I shut my eyes, attempting to drift back to sleep. Except Mal’s cock was stiff against my hip, creating the opposite effect, as a spark moved like a fine tremor along all of my nerve endings.

  Suddenly, all I wanted was Mal’s thick length buried deep
inside me. Swiveling my hips, I ground against him. He moaned into my neck as he angled his hips forward, his cock aligning with the crease of my ass. If we kept this up, I’d come just like this from the solid pressure of his shaft. But I wanted more, so much more. The burn, the fullness, the ache as I edged toward oblivion.

  Mal’s fingers stretched around my hip to my cock and his fist closed firmly around it. “Want me to take care of you? Might help you sleep.”

  I gasped, thrusting into his hand. “Want you to fuck me. Slide your cock inside my ass and let me feel you.”

  “Goddamn.” His forehead sank against my shoulder blades, his breaths heavy against my skin. “I want that too. Fuck, do I want it.”

  In the cloaked stillness of the night, it was somehow easier to say what I needed without worrying about the ramifications. “Sometimes I’d stroke my dick after leaving the Asylum and imagined your cock inside me. It helped…take my mind off things.”

  “Fuck, Sawyer. You saying shit like that makes me want you even more.” His fingers gripped my shaft as we ground against each other, and I could feel his wet and sticky pre-come coating my crease and sliding down to my hole. “Hang on a minute.”

  His arm swung down grappling for his jeans. Next, I heard the slide of a wallet and the sound of a wrapper as he fumbled for a condom. He twisted away as he ripped it open and rolled it down his cock, his elbow bumping my back. Seconds later he breathed heavily into my neck as his fingers trembled against my hip. “You sure?”

  “Never been more sure.” Before he could question it again, I ground my ass against him. The head of his cock speared into my crease, breaching my hole.

  His body stiffened as he hissed through his teeth. “Ah, fuck. Am I hurting you?”

  “Hell no. I need it so bad,” I gritted out, already welcoming the burn as his thickness stretched my hole. I shifted my knee forward on the bed and held it aloft so he could push inside more easily. His fingers tightened on my hips as he rocked forward in shallow, almost cautious thrusts as the pleasure began to build, and his warm groin rested flush against my skin.

  “Holy Christ,” he grunted through clenched teeth. “So tight. Never felt anything so tight.”

  Wrapping his arm around my chest, he sucked on my neck as he pumped his groin, and buried his cock to the hilt. He canted his hips in short and gentle prods, but I needed more. For fuck’s sake, I needed it fast and hard and dirty.

  “Wait a second.” When I rolled forward, his cock slid from my ass. I rose up onto my knees, and holding my cheeks open, offered myself to him.

  I heard a low growl from deep in his throat. “Goddamn, look at you. So fucking sexy.”

  Our gazes locked as I glanced over my shoulder in the darkened room. His eyes were wide and glassy, his hand resting on his cock as he adjusted to his knees. When his thumb reached out to trace my crease, he swore under his breath.

  “Spit on my hole. Get it wet again.” I thrust my ass out further and heard his sharp inhale. When I felt his saliva hit my pucker, my cock jerked toward the sheets. “Now, fuck me. Hard.”

  “Holy shit, Sawyer. I’ve never…goddamn.” He wasted no time lining up his cock and snapping his hips forward. He drove back inside in one solid thrust that knocked the breath out of me as my elbow sank to the mattress for leverage. That’s more like it.

  “Ah hell. This is too good. I never want this to fucking end.”

  His fingers digging into my hips, he railed me in a brutal rhythm that made my cock leak without any provocation. He’d ruin me for the next man, but I wouldn’t trade one single moment of this night. I’d feel his thick, hot length filling me so completely all the way into next week.

  Grunting and swearing, his thrusts slowed, became choppy and then suddenly he pulled out of me. I whined—half cry, half gasp—instantly missing the fullness. His fingers fumbled as he ripped off the condom and before I could even decipher what the hell he was thinking, I felt the warmth of his jizz as it painted my ass and lower back.

  Mal shuddered and groaned as he gripped my hip and then his warm fingers were tracing a path through the come on my back. I gasped as he thrust two solid digits into my hole. “Only me inside you, nobody else.”

  Groaning, I arched my back, welcoming the fullness again as he continued in a hypnotic pattern in and out of my ass. Dropping my head, I shivered and whimpered, attempting to make sense of his words and actions. I glanced down at my neglected cock still flushed and leaking on the sheets.

  “That bastard isn’t allowed anywhere inside you. Not even in your fucking dreams.” His fingers dug deeply into my hole again, and my teeth clattered from sheer pleasure as a fingertip rubbed inadvertently against my prostate. His arm swung around my waist to hold me up as he continued his spellbinding ramble. “I’m the only one allowed inside you now. Nobody else. You got me?”

  Panting and squirming, he continued rubbing his fingers inside me. Goose bumps rose along my shins and thighs stringing together a line of frisson heading straight to my groin. I felt weak and woozy, my chest overwhelmingly raw and achy.

  “Only you,” I mumbled, unable to concentrate on much else except the perfect slide of Mal’s fingers as he collected more come and pushed it inside me. His gruff and desperate voice triggered a direct path of electric fire to my balls and without warning, I spurted all over my sheets.

  “Fucking hell.” I collapsed to the mattress, babbling nonsensically as my muscles stiffened and then loosened dramatically, all the tension from the night seeping out of me. Mal gingerly removed his fingers as a cloying silence descended upon us in the room.

  “Shit,” he mumbled as if shocked by his actions. He sank down on top of me, his mouth mapping kisses along my hairline. The idea of him shoving his come inside me as sort of a way for him to—I didn’t exactly know—protect me or connect to me, was unbelievably sexy. It profoundly touched me in a way I’d never quite experienced before.

  “S’okay,” I murmured, blindly reaching for his hand, entwining our fingers as I brought it to rest against my abdomen. “So good.”

  I felt warm and safe and so completely sated that sleep began to drag me away again.

  The last thing I remembered was Mal’s heavy weight lifting from my body. I heard the clink of his belt buckle as he pulled up his pants. The bed dipped as he hovered over me and I felt his soft lips at my temple before he shifted the covers over my shoulder.

  The door opened and closed, and the bed felt instantly empty without him.

  13

  Malachi

  Jonas and I were in front of the Disciples crew, our engines idling at a stoplight along the bay. Today was important—a show of camaraderie as we drove together to the Scorpions’ clubhouse some thirty minutes away.

  We rarely rode together this way so as not to draw attention to ourselves, though all the locals knew us by now, and some even threw friendly waves in our direction. No reason for anyone to fear us, not anymore. We kept the peace in the community, added to the economy, and even raised money for the less fortunate.

  After arriving home from Woodale last week, I’d gathered my club together so Felix and I could fill them in on what went down at the meeting. I made sure we were still on the same page with our businesses and firmed up plans for the junkyard, which would tie us even further to the Scorpions.

  The men seemed relieved as well as excited about our future ventures. And despite feeling heartened by a few of them grumbling about how Sawyer had been treated in Woodale, I certainly didn’t want to throw a wrench into their vision.

  So tonight we rode as a united front to a gathering of sorts. We were coming together, reconnecting with the Scorpion crew, and this would hopefully help me smooth things over with Fish if he was still questioning my intentions. In fact, this would be the perfect night to discuss which of our men would best deal in scrap and metal.

  And despite all of that looming over us, it still felt like something huge and important was missing from my life.

  J
onas leaned across his bike to thump me on the shoulder and motioned toward the lake. Glancing in that direction, I spotted Cory and Jude in the distance with their dogs, hands loosely threaded together, and suddenly I couldn’t look away even if I tried. They had made a simple life for themselves and from the looks of it, were blissfully happy.

  I, on the other hand, had thrown myself into cleaning up the mess my father had left with this club, to the detriment of everything else, not wanting to admit I was practically a shell of my former self. Sheila had taken some of me with her to her grave.

  And since then, outside of enjoying how far we’d come as an organization, I’d done little else that made me happy unless you counted basic creature comforts. Sawyer certainly made me feel all kinds of things but apart from a simple text, I hadn’t had contact with him since last weekend. In my quietest moments, I could think of little else.

  Me: You back safe?

  Sawyer: Yeah, all good.

  Me: You feel restless or can’t sleep, I’m just a phone call away.

  Sawyer: Thanks. Guess I’ll see you around.

  The light changed to green, and we revved our engines in unison as we sped toward the freeway entrance. Enjoying the feel of the wind at my back, I remembered how in the moment I’d been that weekend in Woodale. Carried away on the high of my longing for Sawyer and how amazing everything we’d done together felt. The emotions that’d been building up over the course of the last few months had finally culminated into an explosion of intense attraction and pleasure. When I was with him, I’d practically cast aside the ramifications of what all of it meant, knowing I’d end up right here and now, back to a harsh reality.

  I couldn’t even make sense of what had come over me that final night as I had lain cocooned in the warmth of him. When he awoke from that nightmare, panic had set in along with a protective instinct to shield him, take care of him. My only comparison would be how vulnerable I’d felt with Sheila those final weeks—useless to stop the death train she was on no matter how many times I had tried. It was as if I couldn’t express my overwhelming feelings any other way. And how he’d responded to me—the guttural groan, his body quaking as he spent all over the sheets—I wouldn’t soon forget it.