Burn: Outlaw Romance (Hotter Than Hell Book 3)

by Holly S. Roberts

  “The brothers won’t like it,” he says.

  “Can they live with it, though?”

  He doesn’t mince words. “Yesterday this was an all-white club. You’ve tied us in with Moon’s organization and no one knows if that’s good or bad. Now you’re bringing a Mexican chick in who pointed a gun at you. You tell me.”

  Fuck-all disaster is what he’s saying. “When we walk through those doors, do you have my back?” I ask him.

  He nods and I glance at each man in turn.

  One by one they look me in the eyes and answer, “Yes.”

  AJ snickers. “She’s a street fighter. You’ll have your work cut out for you. I saw the guns on that chick,” he says as he laughs. “If she slits your throat in the middle of the night, it’s on you. I’ve got your back with the brothers, Prez. But you better keep her in line. She’s stuck with this club for the foreseeable future. It’ll take a lot before the brothers trust her.”

  Relief slowly sinks in. I did it. With a lot of help from Red and now both women have another shot. I have no doubt Red meant what she said about following my lead—Sofia will be an entirely different story. I’ll keep them apart for a few days and let things calm down before the brothers see them together.

  “Now that the problem with the women is settled, we need to move on to other important shit. We have a shipment arriving Friday night. I don’t like it, but it’s too late to stop the buy now without starting a war we don’t need. If we’re lucky, they’ll choose not to deal with us when they learn Fox is out of the picture.”

  We discuss the hazards of the pending buy and discuss how we’ll end our relationship with the suppliers. My mind is only half on the discussion.

  Sofia is mine for now, she just doesn’t know it yet. At least the guys can’t see my dick growing hard as I picture the coming explosion.

  Sofia

  I’M DESPERATE TO PEE. Thirst, hunger, and aching arms don’t make the list right now because my bladder comes first at this point. When they kill me, it will serve them right when I piss all over the floor. Fuck, they’re probably accustomed to it.

  I have no way to keep time. What seems like hours is most likely minutes. I’m really wishing I’d shot Dagger’s ass when I had the chance. I’ve been staring at the same cracks in the walls and connecting them to make pictures. Anything to take my mind off my cramping bladder.

  When the door opens, my anger ratchets up ten notches. I turn my head and see a younger man with the prerequisite bald head that’s prevalent in this hairless, gorilla society. He pokes his head in, takes one look at me, and backs out.

  “Don’t you dare close that door. I need to take a piss, you son of a bitch. If you make me wait another minute, I’ll piss right here.”

  He closes the door anyway. I struggle against the rope holding my hands. Fire shoots into my shoulders along with more cramps in my bladder. I’m ready to start screaming my head off, when the door opens and Dagger walks in. He strides over, removes the knife from his hip, and slices through the rope in a matter of seconds. I know it’s not the brightest move I’ve ever made but I come out of the chair swinging. It’s not a calculated move. This is desperate rage and wanting to feel my fist slam into Dagger’s face. I don’t expect him to move as fast as he does. The palm of his hand strikes my chest, hard. Pain ignites and I wouldn’t be surprised if he stopped my heart. Fuck, it takes me a moment to collect my thoughts.

  “I like you on your back, but I’m not into piss play, so if you really need to go, shut the fuck up, cool your jets, and do what the fuck you’re told,” he bites out.

  I had the chance to kill him and I pulled the fucking gun like an idiot. “Fine,” I spit. That word should put the fear of God into him. I scramble off the bed and precede him from the room. He steers me two doors down, reaches in front of me, and opens a door to a bathroom. It’s a five by five room with nothing but a filthy toilet and cracked walls. Not even a fucking sink. I enter and try to close the door behind me. Dagger’s foot stops me.

  “Door stays open,” he grits out.

  “I’m not pissing with you watching me.”

  His large hand grasps my arm and I’m halfway back to the room where he’s been keeping me before I realize he really doesn’t plan to allow me to pee.

  “Fine. Stand and watch. If that’s how you get your jollies, who am I to stop you?” I hope to God he can’t hear the desperation in my voice.

  He spins me around and shoves me back toward the bathroom. I waste no time pulling down my jeans and squatting on the toilet. As bad as I need to go, the stream takes a minute to start with him watching. This is so damn humiliating. Made worse by the lift of Dagger’s brow when I don’t pee right away. The relief is so great when my body finally cooperates that it’s hard not to groan. I’m sure he’d like that. I look around for toilet paper and find none.

  “Seriously, there’s no paper?”

  Dagger shrugs.

  “What the hell would you do if I took a shit?” I stand and pull my jeans and panties up and do my best to disregard the fact that my panties are now wet. If I get my hands on his knife, I’m cutting off his dick and stuffing it down his throat, I promise myself. I walk back into my prison with a wet crotch and unwashed hands.

  “If you promise to behave, I’ll leave you untied. The last thing you want to do is leave this room and run into the men. I’m in a meeting and need a bit more time. Finish up the bottled water and I’ll be back to feed you as soon as my meeting is over.” He actually sounds civil for a change.

  “Thank you,” I say grudgingly and hope he leaves quickly before I lose my fight to contain my temper.

  The door closes, the lock snaps in place, and I jump up and kick the cot. My foot is the only thing that hurts after the tantrum. It doesn’t help that I couldn’t scream when I did it. I’m sane enough to know I don’t need to draw attention to myself. Fucking moron, skinhead, asshole. I picture him with his cock in his mouth. It helps to keep me from kicking the cot again.

  I drink the water and ignore my growling belly. Do motorcycle gangs feed someone before they kill them? I lie back on the cot and throw my arm over my eyes. I can’t look at another crack or I’ll go crazier than I already am.

  I’m almost asleep when Dagger finally returns. “You hungry?”

  I decide that silence is the best policy or I’ll get myself in trouble. I also don’t want another shot to the chest, so I keep my hands to myself. I roll on the cot, sit up, and place my feet on the floor. He steps back into the hallway and I’m guessing I won’t be eating in this room. He doesn’t seem concerned that I don’t have a shirt covering my sports bra. It’s one of my workout bras and along with a skimpy pair of shorts it’s all I usually wear. He’ll be sadly disappointed if he thinks it’ll bother me. I follow him down the hallway to a large room filled with ugly biker dudes. Maybe some women like the bald, shaggy facial hair type but not me. I like my men with a furless crotch and face along with nice hair I can hang onto when they go down on me.

  The men who watch me don’t appear happy. That fact and that I’m being fed could mean I have time before they pull the plug. I see a few of the guys zero in on my tits. I straighten my back so they get a good look. Dagger notices and shakes his head like he can’t believe I’d use my scantily covered breasts to postpone the amount of time I keep breathing. He doesn’t know me well. He pulls a chair out at one of the tables and there’s a bowl in front of it. It looks like chili. I sit down, pick up the spoon poking from the bowl, and ignore the men. I’m starving.

  The first bite has kick. With my heritage it’s not hard to eat the spicy chili. It surprises me that the lily-ass gringos can handle it.

  “Fucking bullshit is what this is,” one of the men shouts. He comes out of his chair and shoves it back so hard, it tumbles across the floor.

  I halt the spoon midway to my mouth and watch Dagger jump on the man, taking him down. He quickly has the guy by the throat. Smooth move, I’m thinking when Dagger g
rowls, “It was a unanimous decision. You want to walk, you had your chance. If you want a six-foot hole, challenge me.”

  The man gasps for air. “She fucking tried to kill you or have you forgotten?”

  “She pulled the shot and you fucking know it. I’d be dead if she hadn’t.” Dagger glances my way and I put the spoon in my mouth like I don’t have a care in the world.

  Give me another chance with a gun and I won’t miss, I think while doing my best to convey puppy dog eyes.

  Dagger climbs off the man and crosses his arms.

  The guy stands and dusts off his jeans. “Look, Dagger, I’m fucking sorry. We all want this club to prosper and I was sick of Fox and his bullshit. I have no love for spics, but I couldn’t care less where you put your dick.” Dagger takes a menacing step toward the guy and the man raises his hands. “No disrespect, I just have no idea what to call her.”

  This is actually funny. Spic doesn’t bother me. Hell, I’ve been called much worse. Dagger seems to have a problem with it, which surprises me.

  “Her name is Sofia,” Dagger grinds out.

  The guy nods without bothering to look at me. I’m quite aware this isn’t over, but I did learn I have a stay of execution. I keep eating the chili and drink from the water bottle that’s beside the bowl.

  Dagger pulls out the chair beside me, turns it around, and straddles it. He speaks loudly so all the men hear him. “This is your home for now, princess. You’ll be earning your keep cleaning and serving. If you have a problem with that, say it now. Any one of these men, including me, will happily give you a plot of brown earth to rest in.”

  The longer I’m alive, the better chance I have to escape. And I will escape. “I’ll take the first offer,” I inform him.

  “You start immediately. There’s a ton of dishes in the kitchen. The whores will be in here entertaining us.”

  Whores, really? These Neanderthals need a basic class in… fuck… Basic Humanity 101, maybe. My bitch rises to the surface. “I wouldn’t think you’d need to pay for it, but I guess there are quite a few women turned off by premature baldness.”

  His expression conveys exactly how stupid I am. He grabs my hair and pulls me out of the chair, dragging me from the room. I hear the snickers and do my best to hold back my fists. When I explode and plant Dagger’s ass on the ground, it needs to be a surprise and one without witnesses so I can escape.

  Dagger shouts behind us, “Rufus, you have guard duty until the damned kitchen is clean. Bring her back in here when she’s finished so I can tuck her into bed for the night.” The chuckles turn to laughter. Dagger throws a door open and pushes me inside. Rufus, the guy who peeked in on me while I was tied to the chair, enters behind me. Dagger leaves without saying another word. I look at Rufus. He’s goofy looking in a young Woody Harrelson kind of way. I’m guessing he’s in his early twenties. It’s hard to tell with his shaved head. Unlike most of the other men, his face is hairless.

  I glance around the kitchen. Not only is it ugly, it’s piled high with the filthiest mess I’ve ever seen. I storm over to the sink and almost vomit. The smell is horrendous and the grime peeking through the dishes is growing fungi. It takes three seconds to realize there is no dishwasher. Dammit, this will be a hand job. I smile internally. I’m not exactly a hand job kind of girl.

  I open the cabinet beneath the sink and surprise, surprise find dish soap, bleach, and scouring pads. No rubber gloves, though. I look at my nails. They’re not in the best shape to begin with. The polish on them has seen better days. “So much for my velvet soft hands,” I mutter jokingly.

  I empty the sink while ignoring the guy behind me. I’ll be damned if I speak to any of these twat heads. A woman’s squeal comes from the front room. God, I hope whoever’s out there is of age. A hard-rock beat that I would usually shake my ass to fills the kitchen. I’m tempted to do it even with Rufus Woody standing behind me, but I resist.

  When the sink is empty, I start scrubbing the porcelain. I’ll be damned if I eat off plates that are cleaned in a smelly sink. My arms are burning before I’m satisfied that I won’t die of botulism the next time I eat. The bowl of chili I had earlier is now questionable, but hopefully the spices killed off food poisoning.

  I start scraping plates, bowls, pans, and utensils into a garbage can I remove from under the sink. There’s no damn dish pan, so I have no choice. When I begin the actual washing, I have time to think. I haven’t seen Lorene… Red. I don’t see them killing her and leaving me alive. I need to talk to her. She’s coming with me when I leave.

  According to the clock on the old stove, it takes me more than two hours to clean the kitchen. The more time that passes, the rowdier it gets in the other room. I’m exhausted when I dry the last dish. I had to disregard the fact that I put everything into dusty cabinets. Unless I get out soon, I’ll have plenty of time to sanitize the entire room.

  Rufus is leaning against the door jamb trying to stay awake. I know the feeling. I walk past him and he follows. There’s a very short hallway and it takes only a few steps before I’m back in the large front room.

  Fuck.

  One of the men has his naked ass on the bar and a woman is sucking his dick like there’s no tomorrow. Another woman’s laugh gains my attention. Her arms are around Dagger. He’s at a table playing cards. The woman is standing slightly to the side behind him. Rufus walks around me and gives Dagger a short whistle. Dagger ignores the hands on his shoulders and stands. The woman steps away and looks unhappy when Dagger walks over to me. She’s not exactly pretty, though maybe at some point in her life she was. Now she’s skin and bones, obviously from a drug habit. I saw it too many times when I was younger. Dagger nods at me and I guess that means follow. He grabs a beer bottle from the top of the bar, ignoring the woman who’s still giving head to one of his men, and walks me back to the cell I was in earlier. I continue past it to the bathroom and open the door. I immediately notice a roll of toilet paper on the floor. I’m surprised when Dagger reaches in and closes the door behind me. Wow. He’s allowing me to do my business in private.

  I leave the bathroom with trepidation. I’m caught between pissed off and horny. What the hell is it about Dagger? I won’t kid myself and deny my attraction to him—bald head and all. I think most women would be attracted to him. I enjoy sex and as long as the man doesn’t expect lovey-dovey shit afterward; I use it to work off some of my anger issues. It’s everything Dagger stands for that makes me feel caged and apprehensive. If only his bald head was more of a turnoff. Every time I see him he seems a little more… doable. He has rock fucking solid muscle that makes me check beneath my lips in case I’m drooling. He really needs to wear a shirt. In the few steps we have before entering the room, I check out his back tats. I thought biker gangs wore their patches on their backs. Dagger’s work is unfinished and I haven’t the foggiest idea what it is. Another tat question that will go unanswered because I refuse to ask.

  We reach the room they held me in earlier. Do I fight and pretend I don’t want this? Who the hell knew there would be a new, gentler skinhead group when I arrived and sex would even be an issue? God, I try not to laugh at that thought. These men are violent, and coming from me that’s saying a lot.

  I can’t make up my mind so try to stall. “Could you at least tell me if Red’s okay?” I add a bit of whining to my tone at the end. Guys think of it as a weakness and I need to plan my escape carefully. I can pretend to be weak.

  Dagger follows me into the room without answering and shuts the door behind him. He leans back against the wood and tips the bottle of beer to his mouth. His red eyes convey he’s had a little too much to drink. He needs a shower, I can smell him from here, and yet he’s still fucking sexy. Swagger literally drips from his pores in waves of confidence that I’ve rarely seen. My pussy goes wet as I look at every defined angle of his chest and abs. It’s not a sock in his pants either. A fucking white boy has never affected me this way.

  My heart skips a beat when he
speaks. “Take your clothes off. Everything,” he orders.

  My sensitive nipples throb and my inner thighs sizzle with longing to give him the ride of his life. It sucks that my mind rebels. I hate everything he and his club stand for and I shouldn’t be attracted to him.

  Fuck it. Easy or hard? I’ll enjoy hard more, so what the hell? “Sure you can get your dick up, bald man?”

  His hand goes to his head and slides over his scalp. “You tell me,” he says lazily. “You can’t take your eyes off my fucking body or the bulge in my jeans.” He takes another swig of beer. “Remove the fucking clothes, Sofia.” His hand moves to his waist and the bigger than shit knife he wears. It’s a threat and it pisses me off. This is not the way you play this game.

  Without changing the tone of his voice he continues. “Take them off or I’ll cut the damn things off and you won’t be getting new ones anytime soon. You in that bra contraption was a lot of temptation for my men. How long will you last with nothing covering that pussy of yours?”

  He just had to go and ruin everything. “Fuck you,” I say because I don’t like him threatening me with something he won’t carry through on. His cock wants this Latina pussy too damn much to give it to his men.

  Dax

  I’VE HAD MORE THAN I should to drink but even so, I’m not into raping women. Her hot Latina eyes are impossible to miss when she checks me out. She hates me but wants to fuck me too. We’re in the same boat, though I’ll admit I don’t exactly hate her.

  I want her clothes because I’m not sleeping in here or with her at all tonight. Her ass would be too much to resist if we were in the same bed. Her bag and purse are already in my room. I’m hoping the lack of clothes will stop her from running. The burs around the clubhouse will help, so her shoes are coming off too. The side benefit is seeing her naked. And I fucking want to see her naked.

  There’s a lot riding on her willingness to stay here without causing trouble. I’ll discuss the options with her in the morning. Her captivity can go easy or hard. She needs to convince the brothers she’s not a threat, and if she can do that, I’ll get her away from the mess she caused.