The Devil's Scars (The Road Devils MC Book 1)

by Marysol James

  “Nuh-uh. You shut that hot little mouth, and I mean now. You talked, said what was on your mind, so it’s my turn.” He paused, nodded when Zoe stayed quiet. “Good girl. You’re learning, at long goddamn last, to listen up and do what you’re told.”

  Her eyes flashed with rage, and she actually growled right back at him, deep in her chest. He waited, knowing that he’d pushed a button pretty damn hard – stomped on it with his motorcycle boots, to be more precise – and he wanted to see if she’d listen to him for the first time, ever. He gave her time to decide if she was going to open those pouty rosebud lips, and say anything.

  She didn’t. She glowered, she glared, she looked like she wanted to knock his head off his shoulders… but Zoe didn’t say a single word. He grinned.

  That’s so much fucking better.

  “Now,” he said in a conversational tone. “As I was saying, I don’t want to be your friend, beautiful, so don’t bother asking again. It’s not happening, and that’s it, end of fucking discussion. What I do want is for you to open your goddamn eyes and see that we’re good together. No… we’re great together. We want each other, and not just to fuck like wild animals, as good as that was and I won’t be turning down a repeat performance if it’s on offer. Besides the hot sex, we also have chemistry, and we like each other, and as far as I’m concerned, that’s all enough to at least try to make a go of it.”

  Scars paused again, cocked his head at her. She was silent, though, just staring up at him, all wide-eyed shock and awe in those gorgeous green eyes. He smiled again, suddenly realizing that as much as he adored fiery, feisty Zoe, he was finding newly-compliant Zoe a serious turn-on.

  “You’re fighting me, you’re fighting us, and you’re fighting yourself.” He raised a hand slowly, watching her reaction. When she didn’t flinch or move away, he rested it against her delicate throat. He didn’t wrap it around, or press hard… he just laid it there, felt her heart rate speed up, pulse, pound against his knuckles. “Now you can fight, if that’s what you need to do right now, but hear me when I say this, beautiful: I won’t be your friend. I won’t fucking sit with you at a table out there in the bar, and chat about sports or the weather or last night’s episode of CSI. I won’t act like you’re a work colleague and nothing more. I sure as hell won’t watch you flirt with other guys and my brothers, and pretend I’m cool with that, ‘cause I’m not. Never will be.”

  His fingers curled now, and he twisted his hand around. He was holding her neck, just a bit, not hard, but he was making a point. And the point was you’re fucking mine. Face it when you’re ready, but don’t pretend it’s not true.

  “Get this part straight in your head, baby.” Scars was speaking in a low rasp now, his thumb slowly stroking the tender, vulnerable flesh, making goosebumps rise with every lazy back-and-forth. “I forgive you for being a stone-cold bitch, that’s no problem. I accept your apology, with an open heart and no reservations. But I don’t accept your lame-ass offer of friendship. I reject it, totally and fully, and I don’t care if that’s harsh. What I will do is wait for you to open your eyes, and admit to yourself that you need me as much as I need you. You’ve ruined me for all other women, baby… utterly ruined me. My God, Zoe… I’m yours for the taking, don’t you know that?” His rough fingers stroked the length of her throat and she arched, just a little bit. “Just reach out and take me, beautiful. Do it.”

  Zoe’s breath caught at his words. The fact that he was throwing her friendship straight back in her face was a shock, like he was jumping all over a peace offering, or slamming the door in the face of a neighbor bringing over a ‘welcome to the neighborhood’ pie. Nobody did that, right? Nobody said, ‘I don’t want to be friends with you! Shove your stupid cake!’. Nobody but goddamn Scars Innis, apparently.

  But the fact that he was inviting her to… what? Take him? Just reach out like he was an apple or a pear, and pluck him off a tree? Like he was sitting there, all ripe and ready and bursting with flavor, all warm and inviting in the sun, just hanging out and waiting for her?

  She didn’t know where to look all of a sudden. She was feeling very exposed, very uncomfortable, very aware of his breath and heat and strength.

  She was also feeling very turned on.

  Goddammit.

  Zoe didn’t know if it was his body or his words – or both, most probably it’s both, because it’s always both – but she wanted him to touch her. Pull her close. Kiss her. She wanted him to stretch that huge body the full length of hers, and take her, just take her like he did that night.

  That one amazing, incredible, life-changing night.

  A night that she spent way too much damn time thinking about, and wanted a repeat of way too damn much.

  Her gaze focused on his lips now, those lips that knew her most intimate places and parts. God, the man could kiss, he kissed like the devil himself – and suddenly, Zoe knew that she’d sell her soul right here and right now for a kiss from Scars.

  Just one. What would one hurt?

  No, no, no. Zoe. No.

  “Baby,” he murmured now, his voice lower than usual. “You’re staring at me. What are you thinking?”

  “Kissing you,” she said, before she could stop herself. “But… I won’t.”

  “No?”

  “No.”

  “Then I’ll kiss you.”

  “You –”

  That was all she got out before he was on her, rough and demanding, no preamble or building up in intensity. He took her mouth, took her the way that she’d been longing for – and Zoe went weak in the knees immediately. She sagged a bit, let herself lean into him, hand over to him.

  It felt so… easy. So right.

  Scars tightened his arms around her as he felt her sway, then surrender. He was stunned at the utter lack of token resistance from her, and that was a huge relief. He’d never once forced a woman to accept even so much as a kiss from him, and even though he knew that Zoe wanted this (she’d even come right out and said that she wanted this), he didn’t want to wear her down or manipulate her.

  No, he wanted her to want this too, without shame or worry or second-guessing herself. He wanted her to accept her own wants and desires, and embrace them, and revel in them. He wanted her to ask for his kiss and beg for his touch.

  So her kissing him back like this, without an intake of breath or stiffening in shock, was a big step. At least, he hoped it was.

  His kisses were savage, hard, passionate. He didn’t care about going slow or being gentle or building things up, not this time. He’d gone from zero to sixty in less than half a second – and from her little moans and trembling body and harsh breathing, Zoe was fully on-board with it.

  And thank fuck, because he’d been burning up for her for weeks now.

  Without a word, he shoved her backwards until her lower body was pressing against his desk. She gave a small, shocked cry, and her arms tightened around him.

  “Easy, baby,” he muttered into her open, panting mouth. “Be a good girl and lean back now.”

  “What –”

  With a growl of impatience, he slid his hands under her ass, lifted her, lowered her until her back was on the desk, and her legs were wrapped around his hips. She gasped, clung to his shoulders and neck as the world tilted and went sideways. Her body was tense now, her body starting to come up off the wooden surface beneath her. Papers fell to the floor like snow, scattering under his feet.

  “Lean back, I said,” he rasped, his large, hard body pressing against her frame. “I’m not going to ask again.”

  She stared up at him, and suddenly, a hint of confusion was in those luminous green eyes.

  “Oh, no, baby. Don’t do that.” He kissed her more gently now, little kisses that dusted over her perfect cheekbones, her pert little nose, her rosebud lips. “Relax, Zoe. Please.”

  Unbelievably, she did. Her upper
body lowered to the desk, her legs loosened around him, her arms rested on the desk beside her. And Zoe just lay there, quiet and watchful under Scars’ heated, molten gaze. Watching him watch her.

  When his hands moved to the snap of her jeans, paused, stilled, Zoe shut her eyes as every sensation on earth washed over her, inside and out. He didn’t move, and she knew that he was staring fixedly at her face. He was waiting, and she knew that she wanted what he wanted to give her. Just tonight, just a little bit, just for a little while.

  God, I’m lonely.

  She opened her eyes, and found herself arching under that blue stare. Offering herself to him, opening herself to him.

  “Yes.”

  “Yes, baby?” he breathed, his hands still unmoving. “Really yes?”

  “Yes.”

  That was all that he needed, she saw. He was sure that she was sure… and he was off.

  Her boots were unzipped and off in thirty seconds. Her jeans were unsnapped and down and on the floor fifteen seconds after that. Her panties and socks joined them five seconds later. And his fingers were on her hot sex two seconds after her lower body was fully exposed to his eyes, his hands, his mouth.

  Oh, Lord, his mouth.

  He kissed his way up her thighs, his fingers still stroking and teasing her. He reached her pussy, and his tongue replaced his fingers so quickly, so seamlessly, that it took her a few seconds to realize what he was doing.

  “Scars!” she gasped as he licked her hot center, long, slow sweeps up and down her full, aching length. Her eyes slammed shut to more fully experience the pleasure. “Oh, my God…”

  His response was to zero in on her clit now, to give it fast, hard flicks, and when her spine started to vibrate, he backed up, slowed down, returned to his lazy, deep strokes with his tongue. Tasting her fully, lapping her sweetness. Sucking her nectar into his mouth before greedily plundering for more.

  Zoe was rapidly losing control. She was vaguely aware that her hands were buried in his dark hair, that she was digging her heels into the desk so her raised hips met and moved with his kisses, that she was moaning and begging and saying his name over and over.

  Suddenly, he was gone, and she opened her eyes, bewildered.

  “You’re close, aren’t you, beautiful?” he said, his voice breathless. “I can tell you’re gonna come for me any second.”

  She nodded frantically, choking on words, needs, desires.

  “Well… you’re gonna look at me when that happens, Zoe. Don’t you dare to close your eyes. You let me see it wash over you, you let me see that you know what I’m doing to you. I want to see how much you enjoy it, how bad you need that sweet relief. Clear?”

  She nodded again.

  “Say it, baby.”

  “Yes,” she said brokenly. “Clear.”

  Scars leaned over her now, his weight on his left hand that was clenched in her tousled curls spread over the desk, his right hand between her splayed legs. He gripped her hair hard, held her head in place, exactly where he wanted it. She couldn’t move an inch either side, and she loved it, loved the way that he’d just taken control, so simply and completely.

  “Now,” he whispered as he slipped two fingers inside her. “Look at me while I play with my beautiful angel.”

  “Ah!” she breathed, her body straining for more, for everything. “Scars…”

  He didn’t respond; he just nailed that hard, astonishing gaze to her face, and watched her as he started to drive his fingers inside her body, in rhythmic thrusts. He moved deep, reached for the heart of her, impaled her to the desk with his touch. Zoe twisted, writhed, shuddered, and he chuckled as she clutched the edge of the desk.

  “Huh.” He withdrew his fingers. “I think you need just a bit more.”

  “Scars…”

  “Mmmm-hmmm. I know, baby. Shhh. Hang on a minute.”

  He brought his right hand to his mouth, sucked on three fingers. She felt her pussy spasm as she realized that he was both licking them clean of her arousal and preparing them for more. She moaned and closed her eyes.

  “Open!” he commanded as he slid his hand across her stomach. “Now.”

  She looked at him, just as he plunged three fingers into her. She gave a wild, low cry, stunned at just how good this man felt. He knew her body, God help her, and her body knew him, too. It felt like his touch was unthawing her, somehow, or bringing her alive in ways that she’d never been before.

  “Fuck, baby,” he said in wonder. “The way you look at me when you’re this close… I swear, I can see your soul, Zoe. Give it to me, baby. Give me everything that you have.”

  And at his words, she did. Her whole body clenched and released, over and over, and Zoe gave Scars the first orgasm that she’d ever had with just a man’s fingers. She cried out and stared at him, watched his fierce expression as she gave him what he wanted, and the thought that this man could do this to her at a mere touch set her body trembling once more.

  “Scars,” she gasped, disbelieving at still being so hungry, eager, needy. “I think I’m going to –”

  “Yeah, you are,” he said roughly. “C’mon now, baby. I want another one.”

  “I – I –” She threw her head back, breaking eye contact, and even though his hand tightened in her hair again, he didn’t seem to mind this time. Her neck arched, and she dug her head into the desk, her palms pressed flat to brace herself for more. “Oh… oh, God…”

  The three large fingers were pushing harder now, using her slick release to help find that sweet, melting spot so deep inside. Mindlessly, she helped him by lifting her hips a tiny bit, and just like that, with that slight change of angle, he hit it, hit the hidden, secret place that she’d only ever located with her magic vibrator, the one that angled just the right way. She screamed, and Scars rubbed his thumb over her throbbing clit.

  “That’s it, baby.” He pressed on her little pearl, let up, pressed again, the whole time pushing on her g-spot in tiny, controlled thrusts. “Let it go, Zoe. Let it all fucking go.”

  “Scars…” It was a sob, a plea, a prayer. “Please… please…”

  “I know, baby. You’re there… go on, now. Go over the edge. I’ll catch you, I promise.”

  When she came this time, she couldn’t make a single noise: all Zoe could do was let herself get washed away by the waves, let herself turn into an exploding star of sensations.

  She let go of every single earthly, grounded, logical thing – and she let herself fly.

  When she opened her eyes again, she was surprised at the moisture on her cheeks, on her thighs. Scars was stroking her tumbled hair back off her forehead, his large right hand on her belly, gently holding her in place. At her tears, his face softened, softened in the way that she’d seen that night in the back room, and he kissed her lips. She tasted herself on them, and she was taken aback at how sweet she was in his mouth.

  “That was incredible, baby,” he muttered, and she smiled, knowing that he meant it. His fingers moved up her stomach, between her breasts, over her lips. They were soaked with her release, and she blushed. “You are just the most amazing, delicious little thing, you know that?”

  “I –”

  The loud, almost-aggressive knock at the office door scared the life out of Zoe, and she jumped. Scars turned with a curse, and bellowed at the door.

  “What?”

  “Scars? We gotta talk, man. Now.”

  “Wolf,” Zoe whispered, and she squirmed away from Scars, off the desk. “Oh, no. No, no, no.”

  “What?” Scars said, watching her scrambling to collect her clothes and boots, admiring her tattooed curves even in her obvious panic. “What’s the problem?”

  “Shhhh,” she hissed. “Don’t let him know that I’m here.”

  “What?” Scars said for a third time. “Why the fuck not?”

  “Scars!” T
he door handle started to turn, then when Wolf found it was locked, he gave the door a hearty kick. “No fuckin’ joke, Innis. Whoever she is, she can wait.”

  Zoe squeaked and dashed out the second door, the one leading to the emergency exit. Scars watched, utterly stunned and in shocked disbelief, as she actually ran out of his office butt-naked – chances were that nobody was outside that door, to be true, but still. The woman had opted to leave his presence butt-naked, instead of letting her oldest friend see her with Scars.

  Wait. She’s ashamed of me? Ashamed to have Wolf see her with me?

  Jesus. What do I have to do for her?

  “Scars!” Wolf thundered. “Seriously, man…”

  “OK, OK!” Scars shouted back, grabbing all the papers off the floor and piling them on the desk. “Coming…”

  He flung the door open, and Wolf glared at him. “Cummin’, huh?”

  “Not like that,” Scars said, though he truthfully had a hard-on that was damn near killing him. “I was actually sleeping.”

  “Sleepin’?” Wolf looked around the room. “Alone?”

  “Yeah. Alone. So what’s up? Why are you breaking the goddamn door down?”

  “Because Kansas and Cole found somethin’ on the tattoo parlor video.”

  Scars stared at Wolf, his mind clicking coldly, precisely into place. The finger in the box, left just outside the door, too damn close to Zoe’s office for his comfort. Someone sinister and menacing, lurking too damn close to Zoe for his comfort.

  “What’d they find?” Scars demanded. “Did they see someone?”

  “Yeah. A man hangin’ around the door from the parlor storage room to the parkin’ lot about two weeks ago.”

  “OK. Anything else?”

  “Nope. He covered his face and wore a hat, and no car in sight on the video.”

  “Does then video show him dropping off the box with the finger?”

  “No. It shows someone pushin’ the box over to the door, usin’ what looks like a long stick. Can’t see who’s actually holdin’ the stick, though.”

  “So this is all helpful – how, exactly?”