Corey (Devil's Flame MC Book 5)

by Romi Hart

  That was his undoing, and he grunted, withdrawing his finger and sinking his body deeper between her thighs. He found her opening with the tip of his cock, his shaft pulsing with anticipation as his breathing sped out of control. Pressed against her, he could feel Regan’s heart thrumming, too, and he rolled his hips, thrusting deep inside her with one long, delightful push.

  The sensation of her inner walls clutching around him, urging him deeper, had him wavering on the precipice of a cliff, and he clenched his teeth, locked his jaw, and forced himself to remain steady. He couldn’t leap yet. He may not look like it, but he was a gentleman, and Regan would get her pleasure before he got his rocks off.

  She whimpered and threaded her hands into his hair, pulling him into a deep, sensual kiss as they adjusted to the feel of each other. Corey rather liked that. It kept the heightened sensation while allowing him a moment to find his center and ground so he didn’t copulate like an animal. This should be lustful, playful and enjoyable, not just about the end game.

  But his body wouldn’t stay still long, and he backed out, pushing deeper with the second thrust of his hips. This time, Regan met him, using her legs wrapped around him to lift her hips and take him deeper. She was so tight, almost too tight for him, but the moisture of her arousal make his shaft slide easily in, and the angle was perfect. As he found a rhythm, she shuddered, and he knew he hit all the right spots. It kept him on the edge, gun cocked and ready to fire with an itchy but steady trigger finger.

  Her orgasm hit so suddenly, without warning, and with such intensity Corey lost his cool for a moment, taking in the way she flailed and clawed and screamed as her pussy convulsed deliciously around his cock. But he calmed and retained that rhythm that had brought her to this point, feeling another wave, even stronger, overtaking the first.

  And that’s when his own body told him to fuck off, his passion igniting and singeing his skin as he exploded with his own pleasure, pumping into her relentlessly as his seed spewed over and over again. It lasted eons and seconds, going on for countless measure and over too quickly as he collapsed on the bed beside Regan.

  She still shivered, and Corey didn’t know if her orgasms caused it, or if maybe she was cold without him over her. It didn’t matter, though, as he rolled her to her side and pulled her sweet rump against him, cuddling her close and delighting in the feeling of her warm body spooned in his larger one.

  * * *

  He must have dozed off because he awoke alone and a little disconcerted in a strange bed. But a sizzling sound in the other room, coupled with a succulent scent wafting to his nose drew him out of the bed. He grabbed his jeans on the way out of the bedroom, having no idea if Regan even lived alone. For all he knew, there was a roommate in the kitchen, cooking, and in his experience, the roommate tended to be far less intoxicating and yet far more likely to throw herself at him.

  Fortunately, he found no one but Regan at the stove, dressed in a cami and panties. He had every intention of behaving, but the urge to scoot her to the side and bend her over was incredibly strong. “Hey, Captain, I hope you brought your appetite.”

  Her words stopped him, and he stood staring at her back. She hadn’t even turned around, and she had this way of making him feel like she cared. He shook his head to dislodge the idea and asked, “Why do you keep calling me that?”

  “What, Captain?” She glanced back over her shoulder and shrugged, a playful smile teasing at her lips. “I don’t know. I guess it’s because you’re the HMIC, and I don’t like the word ‘president.’”

  “HMIC?” he asked, still confused.

  “Head Man In Charge.” She laughed, and Corey rolled his eyes. She didn’t exactly seem to have a problem with the fact that he ran with the MC, and she didn’t complain about his position as the club leader. But she must have some issue with it to have to create a nickname. He opened his mouth to protest, but she spoke first. “I think it’s really great that you found your calling. And I love a man who’s Alpha enough to step up and lead a whole pack. I just think you need a better title. That’s all.” She pointed to the pan in front of her. “I also think that, after that performance, you deserve a damn good steak.”

  He’d smelled it, but the word made his mouth water, and his stomach growled loudly. A bit shy all of a sudden, he chuckled softly. “I guess you’re right about that part. Anything I can do to help?”

  She shook her head. “No, unless you want to pop open a couple of beers.” She gestured vaguely toward the fridge, and he reached in for two long necks, impressed that she had imports rather than the usual tired domestics. He glanced at the countertops, confirming they weren’t expensive marble or granite, and used the edges to hammer off the bottle caps.

  She quirked a brow at him as he handed her one and drained a long pull from the other, reveling in the chill that eased down his chest and into his empty stomach. “Impressive. And thank you.”

  He winked, surprising himself yet again with how flirtatious and easy he felt with Regan. “You’re welcome. I suppose I owe you thanks, too. Looks like you put together a fabulous meal.”

  She shrugged again. “I’m no chef, but I’m blessed with good sense in the kitchen. I usually ask if someone is vegetarian or vegan before I cook, but I made an assumption here. Big, strong man, big medium rare steak.”

  “What can I say? I’m easy.” The double entendre had Regan’s eyes raking him over, and there was a twitch in his pants that told him he needed to cool it if he was going to get some food in his gut.

  She cleared her throat. “Well, here we go.” She turned off the burner and put the steaks on two plates, then reached into the oven and pulled out foil wrapped vegetables, smothered in butter and garlic. It all smelled like a fine dining steakhouse, and as they sat down on the couch in the living room – she didn’t have a kitchen table – Corey dove into the meal eagerly.

  She watched him intently for a moment before starting on her own food, but he didn’t care. The flavors were perfect, the steak was tender, and even the veggies were good.

  But then, he slowed down, realizing that if he finished what was on his plate, she might expect him to hold a conversation, and he had no idea what to say. He’d ditched the MC for the evening and knew he needed to check his phone for messages, but he didn’t want it to seem like an excuse to roll out too soon. And he certainly didn’t want to talk about any expectations going forward.

  So, he took his time with the last few bites, swirling his beer around in the bottle, trying to think of something he could say to fill the silence when they both stopped chewing.

  Thankfully, Regan stood wordlessly and collected the dishes, dropping them carelessly in the sink and reaching into the fridge to produce two more beers. She used an opener this time, handing him one and holding hers up in a toast. “To good times between new friends,” she said with a sly grin.

  He eyed her for a moment as he touched his bottle to hers. “Salud,” he muttered, sipping at it. He couldn’t remember ever being around a woman so comfortable in her own skin. She made no apologies, didn’t try to hide anything, and stood tall and proud before him. It was the sexiest thing he could imagine, her confidence more of a turn on than even her perfectly carved body.

  She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, and Corey braced for the onslaught of neediness that would probably ruin his ideal of this woman. “I’m not looking for complications, Corey. I know you have a lot going on, and you’re a client. So, I don’t have any expectations. But the night’s young, and I find you insanely attractive. And you are a phenomenal lover. You’re welcome to stay for more good times and return to reality tomorrow. The ball is entirely in your court.”

  Well, that wasn’t what he’d expected. Corey gazed at her for a long moment, trying to reconcile her openness and honesty with her desire. It was everything he could ask for in a woman, and he found he liked her more with each passing moment. It felt good to look at a woman who was attractive in so many ways and not worry that he�
�d end up trapped in some dark and foreboding relationship just because they spent some time in bed together. Really, this was the chance of a lifetime, and while he had responsibilities, they could wait a few hours. No one had called; his ringer was on. And if it was an emergency and he didn’t answer a text, someone would have called by now.

  No, tonight was different. Tonight, he was going to fulfill a need too long ignored, and at the same time, he would give Regan what she asked for. Fun times – that was the understatement of the century. Now that he wasn’t worried about premature ejaculation, he could really get down to business and make her come until she was dried up and needed to rehydrate. He could spend hours drinking from her, giving her pleasure, and ultimately satisfying his own sexual needs.

  Yes, tonight, he was going to take the invitation and run with it, no apologies.

  In one swift motion, he placed his beer on the coffee table and grabbed Regan, yanking her into his lap. He threaded his fingers in her hair and pulled her face to within an inch of his own, letting his breath caress her lips and cheek as her pupils dilated with an arousal that matched his own. “I hope you know what you’ve gotten yourself into tonight,” he growled, his lips brushing against hers as he spoke.

  She panted at him, the aroma of beer and seasoned steak delicious on her. “I’m all yours, Captain. Give me everything you’ve got.”

  6

  “Wasn’t it just a casual, one time thing?”

  Regan gave Rory a baleful look. The woman was probably seventeen months pregnant and could still downward dog better than anyone in the class. Of course, that was a yoga teacher for you. “Yes, but he’s also a client. He’s been AWOL for two weeks. We agreed we wouldn’t be awkward and that he could come to me or anyone else, as long as he kept up the massage therapy. He’s in bad shape.”

  Rory rolled her eyes. “Men are idiots. He probably ran scared, thinking you were going to get all clingy. That’s what they do. Do you know anyone else who might know this guy? Just to make sure he didn’t get in an accident or something?”

  Regan bit her lip. She hadn’t spoken to anyone else about Corey, and she hadn’t exactly told Rory who he was. But now she was worried.

  This wasn’t about the desire to sleep with him again, though god help her, she wanted him desperately. They’d hardly slept, and then he’d left early, before breakfast, grumbling something about a text message that had him looking both irritated and nervous. She’d assumed it was club business, but she didn’t know what sort of business went on with the Devil’s Flames, so for all she knew, he could have gotten himself killed.

  She’d been on edge when she’d come to class today, and Rory was nothing if not intuitive. And detail oriented. So, the pregnant woman who led the class had pulled her aside afterward to talk, and Regan had hinted at the issues she had with Corey’s being MIA.

  Now, she realized that had been a lousy idea. With the instructor always peeling back layers, she was bound to find the heart of the matter from the start. And when she did, Regan knew she’d discover a lot more than just concern for a patient, and definitely more than Regan wanted divulge about her new connection to the Devil’s Flames. Rory had married one of them, was about to pop out his twins, and she would probably dish out any dirt she heard about the club or anyone involved. Imagine if she got the 4-1-1 on the club president.

  Of course, that wasn’t fair. It was judgmental, and Rory had never given her reason to believe she would spill secrets. Regan chastised herself for her train of thought and scowled. She should have herself twisted up in knots over Corey. They hadn’t specifically said it, but they had nonverbally agreed to a one time intimate session to scratch their itches. There was nothing more going on. And for all she knew, he’d continued his therapy at another facility, avoiding her altogether.

  “There’s something you’re not telling me,” Rory said, one hand on her lower back to support the weight of her belly and the other jabbing at Regan with one finger. “And you want to tell me. I can see it. What’s holding your tongue?”

  Regan sighed and shifted anxiously from one foot to the other. And suddenly, the levee broke. “You could tell me if he’s okay, right? Like, that wouldn’t interfere with club business.”

  Rory’s gasp said it all. She was shocked. “It’s one of the Devil’s Flames! Oh my god, who? Is it Rocky? He’s a doll.”

  Shaking her head, Regan averted her gaze. “It’s Corey,” she mumbled.

  There was silence and stillness, and eventually, she glanced back at Rory, just to assure she hadn’t caused the poor woman a heart attack. Rory blinked at her, looking like she’d been completely blindsided. Slowly, she nodded. “That makes sense. He was supposed to be getting some sort of medical treatment. You’re a massage therapist. I should have put that together.”

  It wasn’t the reaction Regan expected, and she grew antsy and uncertain. “So, is he alright?”

  Rory nodded. “He’s alive and as well as can be. I don’t know much else. He’s been on a couple of runs with the boys, and Eli hasn’t been happy about leaving with them.” She waved at her stomach. “He forgets I’m the size of a house because there are two children sharing this space, not because I’m due tomorrow.” She laughed, then grew really serious. “Corey’s not the type of guy to just sleep with someone and walk away. In fact, he doesn’t usually sleep with anyone. He’s a loner, in every sense of the word. You must have gotten under his skin, and he needed distance.”

  That was rich. “No, trust me, it was all super casual, and there were no expectations or promises or even wistful glances when he left. This is just me, hoping he’s alright. And if he’s not coming to me and my office, I hope he’s going somewhere for therapy. Because he’s one giant knot.”

  “Imagine dealing with a bunch of grown men who like to rough and tumble and trying to run them like a business venture,” Rory chuckled. “And they’ve had their fair share of issues with other clubs lately. There’s one that’s still terrorizing the entire region that needs to be put out of commission.” Tilting her head as she obviously assessed Regan’s state of mind, she continued, “Look, I’m not going to say anything to anyone. And if you haven’t seen him by our next class, I’ll discreetly find a way to address whether or not Corey’s still seeing a massage therapist.”

  “Thanks, Rory. I appreciate it,” Regan told her genuinely. At least she’d gotten this off her chest, shared it with someone who wouldn’t judge her or make a big stink about it, and she’d discovered that Corey was just fine, performing business as usual. And she had a contact in case she needed to get a message to Corey.

  That she could live with.

  * * *

  “Well, look who the cat dragged in,” Lena purred, catching Regan’s attention as she watered the plant in the lobby that Lena always ignored. Regan looked up, curious who had walked through the door that would make Lena sit up straighter and pay attention, and her own breath failed her.

  Corey.

  He looked worse than ever, his shoulders sagging and his back bowed. He seemed to carry extra weight, reminding Regan of an old man without his cane. What had he been through the last couple of weeks that had him appearing like he’d fought a steamroller?

  Even his stride suffered, as if he drug his legs and could barely lift them. It was reminiscent of someone sludging through a swamp. Lena stood, leaning forward as he approached the front desk. “Sweetheart, you’re a lucky man. You cancel two weeks of appointments, and I get ready to clear you off the schedule. But I had faith you’d be back.”

  He gave her a nod, but his eyes met Regan’s making her gulp and try to contain her excitement, which should not have had her ready to leap at him. Thank god she had more professional courtesy than that. “It’s been rough, but I do appreciate you not throwing me to the wolves. I’m assuming you still have me with Regan.”

  Did he sound eager? Regan couldn’t tell, her personal investment a bit too strong at the moment. There was nothing between them, and she ca
refully reminded herself of that, even as she felt an electrical spark as if lightning struck their chests, the pulse connecting them. But she was probably manifesting that sense of anxiousness from him.

  Jealousy seeped from Lena’s gaze as she shot a sidelong glance over and then smiled sweetly at Corey. “I don’t play around with the schedule when it seems like the program is working. Come with me, and I’ll get you set up.” She sighed and winked at Regan as she passed, and Corey’s eyes didn’t leave Regan’s until he was beyond her, led down the hall to the massage room.

  Curiosity plagued her, but Regan knew she couldn’t let it rule her actions. She had to remain professional, more so than usual, considering the circumstances. While her head and her heart knew better and had no such desire, her loins bagged for another chance to experience an intimate night with Corey in all his absolute glory.

  And she couldn’t even think about that if she started asking questions like a nagging wife.

  Bracing herself with a little deep breathing and grounding, she headed to the kitchenette to wash up, listening for the bell to ring and let her know Corey was ready for her. Maybe she was just antsy, but it seemed to be taking longer than usual, and she wondered if that was a conscious effort on his part to delay the encounter or if he was moving slower because he was in pain. She would bet on the latter were there not plenty of reasons to consider the former.

  But eventually, once she stood outside the door, the signal sounded, and she breathed a sigh of relief, despite being nervous. At least he wasn’t going to change his mind. He needed some work done. That was obvious to anyone who even glanced at him.

  And in the room, sans clothes, he still looked gorgeous, if worn down. She swallowed hard as she coated her hands with the cursory sanitizer, partly because she worried about his health and how the motorcycle club, especially his position in it, affected his well being. But admittedly, she felt an instant stirring low in her belly as clear images floated through her head, memories of the night they’d spent together fresh and nearly overwhelming.