Luke slipped his mouth onto her stiff nipples on his way down, giving them oh so glorious bits of attention. His tongue rolled along them several times, each stroke sending another series of pleasure cascades through her core.
Her clit throbbed impatiently, needing so badly the attention that her nipples were getting.
He moved, slowly, back down to her pussy and ate her out with an inspired vigor, every press and suck of his mouth causing Jasmine to near that precarious cliff, inch by resplendent inch.
“Luke!” She cried out, her muscles starting to tighten, Jasmine could hardly believe the sexy sounds that she was making – who was this person and where has she been hiding? Lost in the throes of passion, it felt like she was in heat – and the only cure was straddling her man and plunging herself down on his thick sword.
When he moved to her clit and stuck a finger inside, it was all over. His mouth ate her out like she was a piece of succulent candy.
She screamed his name and arched her back, her toes clenching tightly and the soles of her feet becoming nothing more than pin cushions for needle-like pleasure. The orgasm rolled tightly through her body, like bottled lightning made free – every bone and every muscle, every inch of her person felt like it weighed thrice than it was supposed to.
“Oh my god,” she husked, dark waves of pleasure still crashing against her. She glanced over to her sutures, worrying that they might have come undone in the madness of it all. Thankfully they had not.
Luke pulled his face away, his jaw slick with clear juices – a drop rolling down from his chin to his neck. I’ve never seen a sexier man.
Jasmine panted hard, her nipples still tingling and her pussy untouchable on cloud nine. More, she thought, I need so much more, it’s not fair … “That was amazing.”
Moving over to her, Luke kissed Jasmine’s lips deep and leaned into her ear, “Now be a good girl and lick it clean.”
“Gladly,” Jasmine purred, noisily sucking and licking her own mess.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
Luke
“Are you ready?” Gabriel asked. Luke could hear the concern in his slick, low country-boy voice. They were in the club’s garage, specifically the back room which was originally going to be used for storage. The concrete walls were bare and chipped here and there, painted a dark green. One lonely bulb hung in the middle of the room, with a beaded, silvery string beside it to turn it on and off. It cast a dim illumination over the room, if anything making the room more sinister than it would appear in the dark. Allen, Robert and Alex where taking part in watching, standing a good distance away.
“Yeah,” Luke replied quietly, “as much as I’ll ever be,” the anticipation was killing him. His heart would not be still; he wasn’t one to fear, but the kiss of The Mark was something that all Knights feared. He’d already heard what it sounded like to brand his brother’s killer.
Once for falling off the path, twice summons the devil’s laugh. Nobody had ever gotten a second mark. Getting it once was enough; two would mean expulsion by death.
Luke swallowed hard, his bones wanted to leap from his skin. He pressed his teeth down onto the wooden bit, which was wrapped in a white cloth.
Gabriel brought the glowing, red hot branding iron high into the air and deathly silence befell the room.
Motes of dust drifted throughout the air aimlessly.
Closing his eyes, Luke felt a twisted sense of satisfaction, picturing the dead eyes of his brother’s killer. Someone had offered the man fifty grand, and even though he might never find out whom it was, Luke took a dark pride in knowing that vengeance – if even just a fraction of it – was his.
Luke could feel how nervous Gabriel was. Warmth radiated just behind his neck
He found it strange, so terribly and horribly strange; the sound of the brand being quenched on his skin. What was that sound, exactly? That piercing howl like an animal had been lacerated beneath a fat, bloody moon.
His jaw hurt. Between the agony, a thought skirted across his mind – will I ever be able to open my mouth again? Luke’s nose flared at the foul, sickly sweet aroma of burnt flesh.
Please, he thought. Please just make it stop, take away my pain and make it stop.
Why was Gabriel pressing it for so long? Did he want to make him suffer?
How exactly, did he get on to the floor? Luke didn’t want to move an inch; he wanted only to lie on the hard, cool concrete and let everything slip, as the Knights drew near to help, into a comforting black.
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
Jasmine
Seven Days Later
Jasmine could only see darkness, her feet reaching out blindly with every step – Luke was her only guide. “I still don’t see why I can’t just take this off,” she fussed.
“It’s better this way,” he assured happily, “much more romantic. I can do romantic, you know – just trust me.” She trusted him, but did not believe the words coming from his mouth.
“You?” She squeaked, nearly tripping over herself – was that a branch, or a root? “Romantic? Color me uh, not convinced.”
“Yeah yeah, just keep this to yourself, and don’t forget to drink plenty of water when you eat those words.”
“Uh huh.” She could smell the fresh air of Yellow Cypress trees, leaves and sticks crunching softly beneath her shoe. She wondered how much longer that she would have to endure this ordeal. The cool nightly air caressed her person; Jasmine was wearing her sky blue peasant top, which revealed the tantalizing skin along her collarbone. It had 3/4 sleeves and an untied bit of lace at her neckline; all comprised of a fine rayon.
After some time, Luke stopped in front of her – Jasmine came to a still, “Why’d we stop?” She could smell him when he turned and placed his fingers just below her chin, lifting her delicately. The familiar, musky scent, mixed of lavender – filled her with a sense of comfort and ease that she had only ever fleetingly felt before. She felt the heat rise from pinpricks against her feet, ballooning in her chest when the man’s lips pressed against her own.
It was always a little slice of earthly heaven, to feel his kiss.
“You ready?”
The corner of her mouth lifted, “Always.” When the cloth parted from her eyes, she saw a trail of red petals – some scattered by the elements – twenty something feet of them. Jasmine’s heart tapped against her breast: oh my god. The petals led to a great Yellow Cypress in the distance, lights twined around its trunk and a makeshift ladder climbing up to the massive canopy. Inside its heart was a little house painted ivory; it had windows and lights and a small post above the door opening.
Moonlight glimmered against the dew touched grass of the plain; Jasmine’s jaw fell to the floor and she looked to Luke. “Luke,” she murmured, laughing to herself happily, “h-when did you even find the time?”
He gave that special smile to her, “I had some help,” he admitted.
She playfully smacked his shoulder, “You should have kept that to yourself,” she said. “That’s still impressive as hell though, I had no idea.”
Luke twined his hand in Jasmine’s, “Yeah well, that was the point – what you think I can’t keep a secret from you?”
“Not a chance,” she grinned, “and if you did I’d have to take you down for it,” his hand was warm and strong; it sent electricity through her. Something so simple, she thought.
“Don’t threaten me with a good time now,” he warned, “come on,” he insisted, pulling her along through the plain. Their conjoined shadows glided through the clearing.
When Jasmine neared the great tree, she just shook her head, “I can’t believe you,” she whispered so low beneath her breath, that Luke did not seem to hear.
Jasmine smiled, looking at the man, and then climbed the behemoth,
Luke gestured towards the ladder, “Ladies first,” he breathed. One by one, handle by handle. She had to remind herself not to look down, and to ignore the horrible fact that she was way too high in the air, Wh
en she reached the top, she pulled herself up and glimpsed the sign she had saw before. There was a roughly carved heart with J + L in the middle.
She crawled inside of the private treehouse; there were pillows and blankets on the one end, a small red cooler on another, a small stack of books and a string of LED lights along the ceiling.
Luke found his way up top and slid inside, moving next to Jasmine.
She just stared at him, “I can’t believe you did this,” invisible fingers pressed against her heart. I’m in total disbelief.
“I can see that,” he said, “but I never forgot what you told me that day,” he chuckled low to himself, “still think I don’t have what it takes, eh?”
“You’ve got potential,” Jasmine coyly admitted, a quiet energy bridging the small gap between her and Luke. The great tree in which they were housed groaned at the wind’s howl.
“Potential, eh?” He crooned, moving closer, inch by breathtaking inch, “think that’s something I can get behind, baby,” a wolfish grin graced his lips, “at least for starters.”
Drawing a breath, a rush of excitement running her through – Jasmine’s breasts heaved and her body lit up in automatic response when Luke planted a hard kiss on her lips. She moaned against her paramour, wrapping her arms tightly in an embrace.
She didn’t know what she could have done to deserve so much joy. She sank into Luke, the two lavishing one another with each other’s lips and quick flicks of their tongue.
Luke brought a hand to her face, his striking blue and brown eyes searching her own, something deep glinting behind them. “I’m gonna make this work,” he promised, “no matter what. You’re under my wing; and anyone else’s who wants to call me their brother.”
The words left his lips so sweetly, but she was caught between believing and doubting, “You really want to make this work?”
“More than anything,” his eyes flicked to the side for a brief moment.
“Prove it,” she whispered, “promise me something; something that you’ll change about you, for you,” she blinked, holding his hard muscles tightly, “because if you can’t do something for you, how can you do for me. For us.”
Luke took Jasmine’s hand in his own and squeezed, “I’ll quit drinking.” I somehow doubt that.
She weighed his words carefully a moment, gauging the serious, if not tender look on his face, “You’re serious,” she said aloud, more to herself than to Luke.
“For you I am,” he squeezed tighter. “Your turn.”
Jasmine slightly recoiled in surprise, “My turn?”
“Mhm.”
She thought for a moment, her eyes drifting, “I want to open up again,” she admitted, “and I want to get out more, meet more people.”
“That’s good,” Luke assuaged her woes of feeling somehow inadequate.
“Do you think I can forgive myself, my steel cowboy?” She asked, her eyes suddenly becoming hot and stinging. It was too much weight to carry by herself, and it had been so long now; redemption seemed but only a glimmer in the great, yawning crevasse that was her life.
Luke pulled Jasmine closer to his person, eyes warm and searching, “For what?” He asked, cupping the side of her face, “we all make mistakes my desert rose.”
Her wet nose sniffed the cool nightly air and she had to fight back a sob, her inner self roiling in anger and sadness, “I …” Her throat felt as though it could not go on, “I had a brother, Luke. “
He said not a word, his breath becoming still and his eyes unflinching.
“And, and uhm,” Jasmine shook her head, wiping a finger below her eye, snagging something wet, “you’ll never meet him. My kids, they’ll never know the way that he would smile – just to make you happy, who does that? I-I’ve never known someone to do that, Luke. He would just smile and listen and be there, and he was so carefree; it made me … envious. I was always finding obstacles where there weren’t any, and he was just floating through life natural as could be.” Her breath felt like she was inhaling needles; it was as though an invisible weight had draped itself around her person. “I couldn’t save Marcus, Jacob Prestly died – that sweet old man – because I was too slow, and I watched your brother slip right—“
“Stop,” He pulled Jasmine tightly against himself, pressing her head into his chest, “your suffering is just as valid as anyone else’s.”
His chest felt good, his arms made her feel like maybe she would be okay; Jasmine cried long and hard until she felt too tired to go on.
“You did your best,” his voice was soft and serene; it made her think of the lake where she had grown up as just a girl, where the water was still and the sylvan thickets danced in the wind. “You’ll forgive yourself one day, and I’ll be there when you do.”
Long moments passed, the sound of her sniffling and the rustling of the trees and the chorus of bugs made strangely beautiful music of the night. “Promise?” She gave something between a laugh and a sob, gaining back her composure slowly.
Luke smiled, “Promise made, promise kept.”
THE END
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CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
Epilogue
The scent of sweet cinnamon and bold roasted coffee tickled Gabriel’s nose, his eyes falling onto the maple covered long johns waiting just behind the glass shelves – he could feel his mouth salivating for just one delicious bite. The small line of customers shifted and Gabriel glanced ever so briefly one of the barista’s. She was giving him a wry smile, her red hair was done in a bun – and her bangs perfectly framed the heart of her pale face. The beauty spot just next to her lip gave her a, decidedly, unique beauty.
His heart stirred and he turned away as the line moved once more. The smell of cinnamon thrilled him once more and his mind shot back to a time long, long ago.
It was like he was thirteen all over again. She looks like her, he tried to convince himself. But it can’t be, she would have recognized me.
Wouldn’t she?
His heart tapped against his breastbone, faster and faster still – a nervous, glorious warmth wrapping itself tightly around Gabriel’s body. He looked over for the barista once more, but she was not there. Unease became him, and a shadow danced across the counter – the world becoming still and strangely serene.
Something from his left punched the air, a shrill, feminine cry. Gabriel turned his head and caught a glimpse of them – a pit forming in his chest. They had mac-10’s and wore red and white bandannas. There was a violent series, an uncountable amount, of deathly loud bangs. It sounded like the devil itself cracked the sky in two.
Gabriel jerked back a step, the lines of his face screwing up. W-why, did I do that?
He felt warm. Sickly. The room darkened a bit and things became all fuzzy as chaos consumed the shop. It was excruciating to try and move, everything felt stiff and hard and slow; when he finally managed to look downward and fell to his knees, he saw only one thing.
Red.
Authors Note
I just wanted to thank you the reader for taking the time to read Revved Up Soul. It means a lot to me that you gave both me, this book, and Jasmine and Luke’s story a chance. I’ve left some things open, as you’re aware, for the sequel – though I feel the story could be considered as ‘complete’ where we are, with Jasmine and Luke promising to forge a life together and being HFN.
Of course … there’s the matter of Kayla, Gabriel’s demise (?) and Jasmine’s review by the board of directors; and Luke’s need to break away from what his people, and his club, are becoming.
Again, thank you so much and I truly hope you enjoyed the ride as much as I did writing it. If you have questions, comments or anything else, please email me at [email protected]
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Oh and make sure you sign up for my mailing list; I’ll be giving away chapters that I didn’t use, bonus material and givin
g you any other important announcements I might have. Promise I won’t spam you!
-Sincerely, Elizabeth Kathryn Lorde.
Revved Up Soul: A MC Romance Page 23
