Consume Me

by Ryan Michele

  I give him my most evil glare. “Tug. I belong to no one but myself. You need to get this mine stuff out of your head.”

  “It’s too late, sweet lips. As soon as I slid into you, the deal was done.” He kisses me swiftly. “I’ll be back.” He leaves, striding into the bathroom, his ass tight as hell. I bet I could bounce a quarter off it. Shit, Blaze. Get a grip.

  I get dressed, throwing on the sweats I wear around the house. I’m not entering a beauty contest here, and I throw my hair up in a messy bun.

  My mind races. I do like him or I wouldn’t have slept with him. He is definitely persistent. And it’s not like I don’t know him. We’ve known each other since he joined Ravage a year ago, not that we were actually together, but still. And we’ve talked. More than I’ve talked with really anyone. Hell, even Casey and Princess stick up for the guy and I’m sure Princess’s approval doesn’t come lightly. Casey told me he’s a good listener and I’ve learned that for myself.

  My mind is a big ball of confusion. I think I lose either way. And it’s not like he’s promising me sunshine and lollipops. Getting to know each other while fucking each other’s brains out, I could do that. Just give in, Blaze. The problem is there is only one heart in my chest and I don’t want it shattered.

  I have choices. One, I get with him and he dumps me. Then it’s over. I could deal with that. Two, get with him and I have to leave suddenly, my body shivers at that one. Three, block him out totally, which would suck ass considering he was only gone for four days and I missed him like crazy. And I’m not sure he would allow that either.

  The bathroom door opens, startling me from my thoughts. When I turn around, my jaw drops. Tug is completely naked with a power inside of him that quakes my knees. He doesn’t walk to me, no he prowls to me, picks me up in his arms and kisses me hard. I fall into the kiss without hesitation.

  Yeah, I kind of like this guy. Damn it, when the hell did that happen?

  “As much as I want to take you back to that bed and fuck your brains out, I’ve gotta run to the clubhouse.” He sets me down and goes to his clothes and puts them on. I can’t help but watch each movement with utter awe. “I’ll see ya tonight. Yeah?” he asks and I don’t answer fast enough so he answers for me. “Yeah. I’ll be here tonight.”

  He kisses me and he’s off.

  I sit on my bed, drop my head in my hands, and wonder how in the hell all of this happened.

  “The new girl’s here,” Princess calls from the doorway of my dressing room-cum-office space. Princess has on jeans and an old vintage Rolling Stones t-shirt. It’s one thing I truly love about this job. When I’m not on stage, Princess doesn’t give a shit what I wear. Jeans, dresses—she told me to be comfortable, so I am.

  I have on lightly faded jeans with a pale blue top that has a slight V in the front, giving me a tad bit of cleavage, but my boobs are pretty well covered.

  Princess decided that she was going to let Stage, an ol’ lady from some other Ravage charter, dance at X. Princess says that she got her name by dancing and that’s where she met Bobbie, her ol’ man.

  “All right,” I answer, moving to the door and slipping on my flat shoes.

  Princess breathes out, steps in the room and shuts the door. Her movements stop me and I stare at her in confusion. “She’s an ol’ lady to the club, which means that she follows a different set of rules than other women. Here though, even though she’s an ol’ lady for the club, she has to follow my rules. She may give you shit because you’re not an ol’ lady, so it might be best if I handle her.”

  I shrug because I really don’t give a shit. If Princess wants the newbie more power to her, less I have to deal with, and if she gives me shit, I’ll deal with it then. “Fine by me.”

  Princess appears a bit off but I can’t place what it is. “I need to feel this one out. I don’t know her all that well.”

  “That’s fine.” I brush it off. I’ve been dealt with worse stuff in my life.

  “Let’s go.” Throngs of people line X as we make our way up to the front, up the stairs, and into Princess’s office where a striking brunette stands, waiting for us. Her hair is silky and flowing down below her shoulder blades. Her brown eyes are pretty but they lack sparkle. Her face and body are built to perfection, and the way she’s standing with her hip cocked, tells me she knows it.

  “Hi, Stage.” Princess moves around behind the desk and I sit in the chair next to it as Stage sits in front of us. “This is Blaze. She helps me run the place and is your boss alongside me. Anything she says, I would say.”

  Princess’s words come out as a warning. Stage smiles brightly, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. My gut is telling me this isn’t good.

  “Okay. When do I start?” Stage asks with the utmost confidence.

  “Tonight. I want you up for one set so I can see you. Then after that if I approve, next week,” Princess says.

  “Sounds good. Where do we dress?” Stage is impatient, like this meeting is a waste of her precious time. It rubs me the wrong way.

  “I’ll have one of the girls show you around.” I remain quiet, wondering why she didn’t have me do it, but not gonna waste my thoughts on it because in truth, I don’t want to.

  “Great!” she exclaims, a little too bubbly.

  Everything about her screams fake and I try to fight it back. I shouldn’t cast judgment, but it’s there. Trouble.

  “Tonight you’ll go on at eight o’clock. Blaze isn’t dancing tonight so we rearranged things for you.”

  Stage’s eyes flash to me. “You dance here?”

  “I do, for now.” I cross my legs and clasp my fingers on my knee. Stage’s eyes scrunch in what I think is confusion or disgust, who knows.

  “Blaze is helping me run things, so she still dances but is moving away from it.”

  “And that’s where I fit in?” So, Stage has brains. That could be good or bad, don’t know which yet, but if I were a betting woman I’d vote for the latter.

  Princess doesn’t say anything else about it but the amusement is there. “I’ll get Luna to show you around, be ready in an hour and a half to go on.”

  We rise from our chairs and Princess leads Stage out of the room. Well, this is going to be interesting.

  The night was so busy that I left X in total exhaustion. Every muscle in my body aches and I’m sure it’s more from last night’s sex romp than the pole. Hell, I didn’t even dance tonight. But I did go out on the floor with Princess to watch Stage. She dances well and the crowd liked her so Princess is hiring her. I left before they talked.

  When I pull up to my house, an instant pang of disappointment clutches around my heart. Tug isn’t here. I begrudgingly take a shower and then snuggle up on the couch, wrapping myself tight in a blanket.

  I think about watching a movie or television but neither sound good. Instead, I lie here with my mind running faster than a NASCAR on the track. So fast that I can’t make sense of it. I close my eyes and try to calm all the wayward thoughts and focus. Peace doesn’t come.

  All the happy memories that I have of my mother are watered down with the bad. The bad invades me. My stomach tightens and I fold my knees into my chest, making myself as small as I can.

  I’m late and Santos hates it when I am. I didn’t mean to be, but Jenny’s car stalled on the side of the road and we had to wait for her mom. Santos refuses to get me a car. I asked once and never tried again. When he says something, it is law.

  I open the door to the house quietly, the lights are off. Relief washes over me. Thank God he’s asleep. I quietly move to my room, which is on the opposite side of the house from Santos and Mom. I turn the handle as quiet as I can and open the door. I shut it just as quiet and breathe out a deep sigh of relief. I made it.

  I set my purse down and flip on the light, then scream. Santos is in my room, coming toward me like a bull seeing red. He doesn’t cover my mouth, no, he backhands me hard, my face turning to the side, and tears sting my eyes. My hand comes up as
I cup my face, the pain slicing through me.

  “Shut your fucking mouth,” he growls, clutching my hair and throwing me to the bed. “Thought I fucking told you not to be late. Ever!” he barks out and I’ve learned not to give him excuses. It doesn’t help and only makes it worse. I put my hands in front of me as he throws me on the bed, straddling my pelvis and holding me down.

  I’m lucky he has clothes on. I fight. I kick and block, but it doesn’t help. I know it doesn’t but I can’t just give in to the punches. Eventually he wins, he always does. He lands a fist to my eye and pain explodes. I don’t have time to think about it though because his other hand comes up and he slaps me hard across the face a second time.

  He moves off of me, dragging me with him by the hair. “You want to be a little slut out with your friends all night?” he questions and I don’t answer. His fist connects with my ribs and I double over, falling to the ground. I curl into a ball on the floor as his foot lands on my hip. The pain is too much and tears I don’t want to fall do.

  His hits stop, the sound of a zipper and clothes hitting the floor echo throughout the room. No, no..no… “You want to act like a little slut, I’ll treat you like one,” he growls, grabs my hair and lifts me up off the ground, throwing me on the bed. “Time I teach you a real lesson.”

  The doorbell rings and my nightmarish thoughts vanish. I blink a few times, clearing out the cobwebs of my past, and try to focus on the here and now. The clock on the wall reads three thirty-six in the morning. It must be Tug.

  I toss off the blanket, go to the door and glance through the peephole. It’s him. My heart that a minute ago was filled with such pain is squeezing for a whole other reason.

  I open the door and am greeted with the deepest brown eyes, shining with happiness. My belly flutters. “Hey,” I say, stupidly.

  “Hi, sweet lips.” His arms come around my waist, pulling me into his body. Then he kisses me, washing all the bad memories aside. The door slams, the lock engaging as he continues to devour me with his lips. He pulls away and I gasp for breath, not realizing I haven’t taken any in.

  When I open my eyes, he is staring at me, a smirk playing on his lips. “Love that fucking look on you, babe.” A blush creeps up my cheeks. His thumb comes to my bottom lip and swipes across it, sending shockwaves through me from that simple touch. His eyes burn and his rock hard cock presses against my stomach, sending pulses to my clit.

  He smirks and I melt. No thoughts other than the handsome gorgeous man in front of me. “I’m gonna fuck you till you can’t move,” he says softly and my blood pressure skyrockets into another atmosphere. His lips come crashing down on mine and I’m lost. Lost in him, lost in us, whatever us is… I’m lost.

  We lie in bed, me against Tug, my head resting on his chest and our legs entangled. Our breathing is slowly coming down from our frantic interlude that started in the entryway and ended in the bed. I thought I was sore, but as soon as he touched me, I was on fire and ready for him.

  I cover us and snuggle into his warmth.

  “What’s wrong?” he asks, kissing my hair.

  I search for something to say, but come up short. I am not blurting out, we are together. That would sound totally stupid and like I’m a teenager with her first crush. Not happening. So I lie. “Nothing,” I say, softly enough for him to hear.

  “Your mind thinking again?” He strokes my arm and I revel in the touch.

  “Yes.”

  “Talk to me.”

  “Don’t you think this is kinda fast?” Even though we’ve been tiptoeing around it for months, it’s really only been a few weeks and there is no way in hell my heart should be squeezing this hard in that short of an amount of time.

  “Life’s short, gotta grab the good stuff when you can.” His words shock me. Not the words actually, but the weight of them. I take a second to really think. He’s right. So very, very right. Because if something happened tomorrow, if I died or if God forbid have to run, I’ll have these memories to get me through all of it. I squeeze him tight and allow the happiness to surround us.

  Shit. Fuck. Damn. Buzz set up all the equipment we got from Joey’s house as soon as we got back in the basement of the clubhouse. He’s been trying all day, and part of the night, to crack Joey’s codes. We had Doc examine Joey as soon as we got to the clubhouse. Doc ran a shit load of tests and told us the guy was brain dead. The chemical he gave himself was supposed to kill him instantly, but for some reason he hung on.

  Ravage ended up putting him out of his misery. After that, Buzz started and hasn’t stopped. He gets so close and then something happens to the drive that sends him on what he calls a ‘cyberspace chase,’ leaving him pissed as shit.

  So, technically, we are exactly where we started before going to get Joey except we have a computer that we can’t crack.

  I’ve been helping out where I can, mostly keeping Buzz going by feeding his ass because he won’t get away from the computers except to pee every once and a while. That motherfucker is determined to break it and I have every bit of confidence that he will.

  I sit at the clubhouse bar nursing a beer. The brothers are in having church. Breaker and I just got done cleaning a couple of the brothers’ bikes, another one of our many prospecting tasks. I swallow the beer and enjoy the coolness as it slides down my throat.

  These last few days have been pretty much the same: garage, Ravage, Blaze, sleep and repeat. I wouldn’t change a fucking thing about it. The garage is going well, cars coming in and out. Things with Ravage are calm except for the computer shit. Blaze. Shit, that woman. Every fucking night, I come to her late and she doesn’t complain at all. I fuck her until she’s bowlegged the next day, and then fall asleep with her in my arms.

  Right now, I’d say my life is pretty kick ass.

  Buzz ran the info on the asshole that bum rushed Blaze at X. He’s thirty-six and has a job at an advertising company. His record is squeaky clean, but when Buzz hacked into the advertising agency’s computer, he found the asshole got a promotion that day. So, my guess is the dumbass was celebrating. Congrat-u-fucking-lations.

  The guys come piling out of church and I head to the bar, handing out drinks to whoever wants them.

  Pops steps out and whistles loud, catching everyone’s attention. “Let’s ride,” Pops announces. Those two words mean it’s just a ride, being part of the family, part of the pack. It’s not a run or situation we have to take care of. It’s a ride and I fucking love that shit.

  The ride is freeing. It allows me to stop thinking about everything and just focus on the things around me. The only thing that would make this shit better is to have Blaze on the back of my bike. Fuck yeah. That would be perfect.

  We cut our engines and my phone rings. The display says Mom calling. What the fuck? She hasn’t called me in years, something must be wrong. “Yeah.”

  “Andrew?” my mom says, using my legal name. Technically, I’m Andrew Tugger, but in the service, everyone called me Tug. It stuck.

  “Yeah, Mom. What’s going on?” I walk with the guys into the courtyard. Some go into the clubhouse, some sit out on the tables. I choose the picnic table and sit on top of it, my boots planted on the seat.

  Silence on the other end. “Mom?” I pull my phone away to see the call has not been lost. “Mom,” I say, but this time with a bit more authority.

  “I’m here.” Her voice sounds broken, like she’s been crying. Shit. “I wanted to call you and tell you that your sister was in a car accident.” She sniffles and my heart seizes in my chest. She may have kept me away all these years, but I’d do anything to protect her from pain.

  “How is she?” I question when she doesn’t continue.

  She lets out a breath that sounds like static on my end of the line. “She hit her head and has a broken leg. The doctors are waiting for the tests to come back. They’re afraid of brain damage.” All the air in my lungs leaves my body. Fucking shit.

  I yank my hair hard as I get up from the t
able and pace the courtyard, needing to move. “Where are you?”

  “Sumner Medical.”

  “I’ll be there in a few.” I hang up the phone and search for Pops who I find at the bar.

  “Hey, Pops. My sister was in an accident and it’s not good. I gotta roll.” If Pops is surprised about me talking about my mother and sister, he doesn’t show it. When I started prospecting, we let everything hang out, even our screw-ups. The guys know what I did to my dad. It is not something that I’ve hid. They also know how my mother and sister feel about it. So, this, could be a shock.

  “Hope she’s all right, son.” He nods, not giving me an ounce of shit. That is why I love that man and want him to be my President.

  This place is too damn bright. I kept my sunglasses on, trying to block it. People gawk and I don’t give a shit. I head to a round woman, her blonde hair tied in a bun. Who knows how old she is, but the bright blue makeup on her eyes is fucking nuts. “Ma’am.” Her eyes widen. Fear flitters in them and she gulps. Whatever. “What room is Alexis Tugger in?”

  She continues to stare at me like I didn’t even ask her a question. I snap in front of her face and she comes to with a jolt. “Sorry.” She looks down to her keyboard. “What was the name?”

  Fuck me. “Alexis Tugger.” Then I spell out the last name so she gets it right.

  “Ah, yes. Here she is. ICU 3820.” I take off, using the signs to guide me through this maze of whiteness.

  I enter the ICU area and notice my mom sitting in the large waiting room. Her eyes are down so she doesn’t spot me approach. My mom is pretty with short dark hair and the same brown eyes as me. Her shoulders shake. She’s crying. I remove my glasses and put them in my rag. “Mom?” Her head whips up as the tears fall from her eyes.

  “Andrew,” she whispers softly, gets up from her chair and wraps her arms around me tight. I do the same as her shakes become harder. I absorb all of her pain and suck every bit of it in.