by Zoey Parker
Chapter 4: Leather and Lace
One Hour Earlier
Blaze
Steezy, Ember, Croak, and I sat around a table, smoking and drinking. I was looking like a fool, all dolled up in a tux with a goddamn bow tie, while the rest of the boys had stuck to the usual boots and jeans. But hey, a wedding was a wedding, right? Gotta look the part. Even if it did mean the end of the brief but illustrious career I’d spent banging every halfway decent piece of ass that dared to strut around within the city limits.
Christ, my dick hurt already just thinking about all the pussy I was giving up.
“One broad for the rest of your life…” Ember kept belaboring the point over and over, cackling like a fuckin’ idiot to himself every time. This was too much.
I pulled out my knife and slammed it into the table top between his splayed fingers, mere centimeters from slicing off a couple inches of flesh and bone.
“Listen here, you son of a bitch,” I told him. “No more jokes about this shit. You shut your mouth and drink your whiskey like a good boy before I cram my goddamn boot down your throat. Are we clear?”
Ember grumbled, but eventually he sat back in his chair and said, “Yeah, yeah, you no-fun bastard. Can’t even take a joke.”
I sheathed my knife and resumed smoking. I wanted to show the boys that nothing was changing, but to be honest, I was having a pretty hard time keeping my hand from shaking. Even with a week to process the news, I couldn’t believe that I was about to be standing across the altar from Olivia Morris.
The shock was unsettling. I kept trying to tell myself, Fuck it, you’re a man, you’ve had plenty of bitches as fine as her. You’re Blaze. Chicks come from miles away just to beg for the chance to fuck you. What’s one more broad?
But I was lying to myself. Olivia wasn’t just another broad. I’d left her right on the verge of fucking her brains out. I’d been so damn close to getting inside that tight pussy, only to get turned away by that scum fuck of a brother of hers. Shit, just thinking about how close I’d been made my dick leap in my pants.
And now I’d have her all to myself, tucked away in a room somewhere down in Mexico for the little honeymoon we had planned for after the wedding—if you could even call it that.
“Listen, are we all good on the plan?” Croak asked me.
“Yeah, of course. It ain’t that fuckin’ complicated,” I snapped back.
Croak raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, well, it’s important, so don’t go fucking it up,” he warned.
“How could I possibly do that?” I said. “I take her down to Mexico, away from her brother. Get into her head a little bit, see what she knows about anything that fucker might be cooking up, then once we got the , if there even is one, I bring her back home, drop her ass off, then I’m free and clear. Easy as that; any dumbass could do it. Literally anyone. Shit, you coulda just had Ember marry the bitch instead.”
Steezy laughed, while Ember shot me a dirty glare. Croak didn’t say anything, just nodded and kept smoking. Stone cold son of a bitch, that one.
“I don’t trust that brother of hers one bit,” Steezy said to all of us.
“You should,” said Croak. “He’s our only chance of keeping those fucking Diablos in their place. Frankly, we don’t have the manpower anymore to pin them below the border on our own. Not since the last big blow-up we had, back before the cartel council was established.”
“Yeah, but he is one slimy fuck,” retorted Steezy.
“Well, then you and our groom-to-be can start a goddamn I Hate Luke Morris club. Get matching t-shirts and everything. I don’t give a fuck what you think about him—this is my charter and I say we go through with this. If you have any questions about that, you can take ’em and shove ’em up your own ass.”
Croak drew on his cigarette, then stood up. His chair scraped against the floor.
“Time to go, boys,” he said, stubbing out the butt on the table. “We’ve got a wedding to attend.”
* * *
And then she was standing across from me, looking fine as all hell. The hysterics had died down. I couldn’t believe her dumbass brother had tried to pull a knife on me. If there was one fucker in this room I could kill, it would for sure be that bastard.
You know, the one who was about to become my brother-in-law. What a fucked up world we lived in.
I thought this would be easy. No bitch had ever gotten under my skin in all the years since I’d last seen Olivia, and I’d told myself over and over again that she wouldn’t be any different. They were all the same, weren’t they? Just a hole to fill when I was drunk and horny.
But this…this was harder than I’d anticipated. Goddamn, where was a shot of whiskey when a man needed one?
I couldn’t let her see any of this shit, of course. I had no respect for a man who looked weak in front of women. I was Blaze; I wasn’t no fucking pussy. I decided right then and there that I was going to take charge of this slut and break her. I would show her that she belonged to me now.
The second Steezy had said his bit, I made my move. I squeezed the hell out of her, grabbed that tight little ass, and shoved my tongue straight down her throat. This wasn’t gonna be anything like a storybook romance. This was an Inked Angels marriage, a Blaze marriage, and she needed to know how things would be from here on out.
It was cute when she whispered in my ear and tried to set the terms of this budding little relationship of ours. Adorable, really.
“I. Am. Not. Yours,” she’d hissed. I practically laughed in her face.
With a savage twist, I pulled her up. It was my time to talk.
“Liv,” I told her, “I’m gonna take you out of this church, whether you like it or not, strap your ass down on my bike, and we are gonna go somewhere far away so that no one but me can hear you scream my name.”
I leaned back to watch my words take effect. They hit her like a goddamn train, a waterfall or some shit like that—she didn’t even know where to start. I could see all the shit I needed to in that confused little mouth of hers.
Oh yeah, this girl would be learning several lessons tonight. How to come for her husband like a good little girl. How to suck my cock and swallow my load so she could earn that dick back inside of her hot pussy, right where it belonged—right where I belonged.
Oh, and she’d learn one more thing, too, starting right now. Olivia had started to turn away, but I grabbed her by the arm and spun her into me again. She hit my chest with a flustered “Oh,” and looked up in my eyes. I gave her the wildest grin I could muster and said, loud enough that her brother could hear from his seat in the first pew, “Practice saying my name, darling—you’ll be screaming it later.”
* * *
I felt nauseous as soon as we stepped out of the church. What the fuck was this shit? She was just another girl, so why the fuck did I feel so sick about everything I had said to her at the altar? I’d said exactly what I was supposed to say—told her she was mine. Told her I owned her. Told her that I was her husband and that she belonged to me, utterly and completely.
So what was going on inside me?
I know who you really are, Blaze. That fucking little voice. I wished I could reach inside my own damn brain and strangle that son of a bitch. It had the most annoying habit of speaking up right when things were going according to plan.
I needed to hear some engine. I threw Olivia on the back of the bike. She landed with a soft exclamation, but she knew better than to say anything to me. I didn’t care what kind of tough act she was trying to put on. I had to break her; if for no other reason than just to silence that bitchy little voice in my head.
“Here’s what’s gonna happen,” I growled to her. “You and I, we’re gonna run a little errand. And then we’ve got a trip to take. You’re gonna do as I say, without a single question. I’m your husband now, and your only job is to obey me.”
“Listen here, you mean bastard,” she started to say back to me, but I ignored her and kicked the engine to life.
It roared, then settled into a contented purr, loud enough to drown her out completely.
Perfect. I already had one voice annoying the living hell out of me, I sure as hell didn’t need another.
We ripped down the road, throttle wide open. I settled back, letting loose a loud sigh and working my jaw back and forth to dissipate some of the tension I’d built up during the ceremony.
Shit had come awfully close to blowing up in there. If Croak hadn’t been such a steely bastard, we might’ve ended up with a war on our hands—brothers gunning each other down inside a church. For fuck’s sake, Luke Morris would’ve put that blade in my chest without a second’s hesitation. Thank God for Steezy. And for Croak, too, even though that motherfucker really pissed me off more often than not.
But all that was behind us now. In front of me, there was only empty blacktop. It was exactly the cure I was looking for.
* * *
“You are out of your fucking mind,” Olivia shrieked. She stalked over to where I was sitting in a rickety wooden chair, the world’s biggest shit-eating grin smeared across my face. The salesman standing off to the side looked confused as all hell, but hey, who could blame him—the strappy leather lingerie he was holding in his hands wasn’t exactly the most frequently requested item in his store.
Liv looked like she wanted to slap me. I just kept that smile on full blast. I sure as hell wasn’t about to back down to a woman, wife or not. She was seething, though. I could practically see steam pouring out of her ears.
She was cute when she got angry. The flush rose high in her cheeks, and she jutted her hip out to one side. Goddamn, that ass looked delicious. It was begging for a manhandling.
“Look at me, for Christ’s sake,” she snapped. She threw one threatening finger at the salesman. “There’s no fucking way I’m putting that shit on. Not for anyone, but especially not for you.” She clenched her teeth, crossed her arms, and settled back, confident that she’d stand her ground.
And then I stood up.
I could see fear steal over her face as I rose. I’d always been a big son of a bitch, but standing next to her petite frame, I looked like a giant. I towered over her, and when I looked down into her face, blocking out the ceiling light, it was like a scene out of a fucking nightmare.
I took one hand and placed it on her throat. I wasn’t squeezing or anything, but she needed to know who was calling the shots here. The weight of my hand only reinforced the metallic edge of the words coming out of my mouth.
“No, Liv,” I spoke softly. I didn’t need to raise my voice or shout or curse. She could look in my eyes and see that I meant every word I said. “No, I think you’re going to do exactly what I’m telling you to do. You’re going to be a good, dutiful wife. You’re going to take that shit from our little friend over there…” the salesman gulped, scared just from being near me, “…and you’re gonna go into that changing room. You’re going to take off all your clothes, and after you do that, you’re going to put that thing on, and you’re going to come show me. Before you put it on, though, I want you to stand there naked and remember something: you are mine now. I want you to look over every inch of your body and pretend that my name is stamped all over you. I want you to look at that pretty little smile and think, ‘This is Blaze’s.’ I want you to look at that delicate, delicate little neck of yours and think, ‘This is Blaze’s.’ I want you to let your eyes wander all over those perky tits, that ass, that tight pussy you’ve got between your legs, and while you do, I want you to say the same thing to yourself, over and over. ‘This is Blaze’s.’”
I let my hand fall by my side. The salesman looked out of his mind with fear. He’d never seen a scene like this before, that was for certain. Olivia swallowed.
Almost like it was moving of its own accord, one of her hands flitted up and stroked my abs. Then she caught herself and jerked it back down. Inside my head, I smiled. This would be fun.
She turned on her heel, walked slowly to the salesman, and gently plucked the leather garment from his grasp. Then she went into the changing room and shut the door behind her. I looked at the sales guy.
“We just got married,” I said with sarcastic enthusiasm, that thousand-watt grin beaming from my face. He looked like he’d just shit himself.
“Con-congratulations,” he stuttered. “If-if you’ll excuse me.” He scampered into the backroom, desperate to get away from me.
I tapped my foot and waited. I ignored the voice chirping in the back of my head. I almost regretted the display I had just put on, and then I caught myself. What was happening to me? Was I getting soft already? I resolved to squash these stupid fucking doubts I kept having. Of course I was going to fuck her. She was my old lady. That was my right.
And as if all the cat and mouse games with Olivia weren’t enough to do a complete fucking spin-job on my head, there was the mission at hand, too. I had to keep focus. If Luke was conspiring to fuck over the Houston charter, then I had to find out about it and do whatever it took to stop an entire fucking war from erupting. I didn’t think he was stupid enough to actually ally with any of the cartels, but there was always the chance that he was trying to plot some overly ambitious backdoor deal that would expose us to the threat of more bloodshed.
Croak was right. He’d seen enough good men die during our last war with the cartels. The last thing we needed was another repeat of that ordeal. That was the most important thing—protect my brothers. But in the meantime, there was this sassy bitch begging to be taken.
The door to the changing room creaked open. There was a pause, then Olivia slunk out.
Goddamn.
I’d seen plenty of girls in my lifetime. The patch drew them in—girls who wanted so badly to be looked at, to be admired. But I’d never seen one yet like this.
Her pale skin shined brightly between the black leather straps that crisscrossed her body. The leather swirled up her legs, around her hips, and ducked between her legs, just barely hiding her slit from view. Her flesh was bare almost everywhere, save for where the lingerie lay over her nipples and fastened behind her neck. The black material against the white of her skin was an intoxicating contrast. She wore the whole thing with a defiant glare that only made it sexier. She glared at me, but even behind the anger in her eyes she knew that this was how she belonged—bare and in front of me, ready to be screaming with pleasure.
“That’s exactly how you should be,” I said to her. “Walk this way.”
Her black heels clinked against the ground as she strutted over to me. She let her hips sway while she walked, sending her ample curves swinging side to side and putting her in danger of slipping out of the garment entirely. I wouldn’t have minded that sooner or later, but there was a time and a place, and right now, this moment was about drinking in the woman standing in front of me.
She crossed the distance and stood up straight, mere inches away. I could feel her breath against my chest as she looked up at me.
“Do you like it?” she whispered seductively. I wondered if she was trying to play some game with me.
“Spin,” I commanded. She looked like she wanted to argue back, but I stared her down until she started to rotate. I watched her ass come into full view. It bulged against the leather that could barely contain it. That swooping downy skin. I took one broad hand and struck it lightly across one cheek.
She let out a squeal and whirled back around to face me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw one of her hands swinging towards me, trying to hit me, but I shot out and seized her wrist. “You asshole!” she yelled as she tried the same thing with the other hand, but I wrapped that up, too.
Slinging a foot around her legs, I knocked them out from under her and dropped her to the ground.
“What the fuck are you doing?” she yelled as we fell to the floor. I braced myself above her so that she was surrounded by me as she lay on her back on the carpet. I put my chin against her throat and whispered in her ear.
“You beautiful girl, this i
s where you belong. Under me, exposed. You’re my wife now, goddamn it, and it’s time you stopped trying to fight that.” I pulled back a little so that I could stare her in the eyes—one green, one blue. Her pupils were dilated, whether in anger or arousal, I wasn’t sure. A little of both, I hoped—that made for better sex.
“Tell me you understand,” I ordered her. She sucked in a breath, but said nothing. I repeated myself, firmer. “Tell me you understand.”
Her eyes searched my face. “I understand,” she finally whispered. There was a flutter on the edge of her voice that I couldn’t wait to explore further.
I’d forgotten everything I’d said about letting her be, about not touching her, not trying to fuck her. There was no way in hell I was letting the opportunity to fuck Olivia slip through my fingers for a second time.
