Torched Read online

  I wasn’t sure what to make of that comment. “Why would I need to use it?”

  He shrugged. “Wouldn’t know since you won’t tell me shit. Just saying that if you need a safe place, you can come here. It belongs to the club. I’ll leave it at that.”

  I appreciated that he wasn’t prying for once. In return, I wouldn’t pry into his need for a safe house either.

  I shrugged off my jacket and sat down on a worn picnic table close to the bike, while Torch went inside. He came out with two cans of beer and joined me. From a pocket inside his cut, he pulled out a joint and lit it.

  Holding in the hit, he passed it to me and I took a nice, deep drag myself.

  “Pace yourself, babe. That’s called Afghan. It’ll knock you on your ass.”

  I smirked as I blew out the delicious, thick smoke. “You underestimate me, handsome. Don’t worry, it looks like a slow-moving storm. I’ll be sober as an old church lady by the time we hit the road again.”

  My stubborn ass wouldn’t admit it, but the shit really was strong. By the time we finished it, I could barely feel my face. Everything slowed down as I leaned back on my palms and watched the drizzle turn into a downpour. Huge drops of water started pummeling the grass, so hard and fast that it almost looked like hail. Lightening flashed across the sky, a loud crack of thunder following right behind. I could feel the ground rumbling under us.

  “Shit, that’s close,” he muttered, sliding off the table. “Let’s go inside before we get fried out here.”

  But I was too fucking high and mesmerized by the light show to go inside. Instead, I walked toward the edge of the tree’s dry spot.

  I could make out Torch’s voice behind me asking what the hell I was doing, but couldn’t snap out of my trance. Without even thinking about it, I pulled my t-shirt over my head and tossed it aside.

  He touched my back and stepped in front of me. “Come on, sweetheart, get inside. You’re high as fuck.”

  I was high as fuck, but I wasn’t out of my mind. In fact, I was deeper inside my mind than I’d ever been. He may not have realized it, but I was standing on a threshold. Behind me was the dry safety of a cabin where I could go and hide, but in front was the unknown, a chance to break free of my chains at the risk of being electrocuted. It was a chance I had to take, one that was about more than just getting wet.

  He reach under my chin, forcing me to look at the face that had haunted my dreams for years. He didn’t say anything, just lightly rubbed circles on my cheek with his thumb and stared into my eyes.

  No, into my fucking soul, if I still had one.

  I stepped back, unzipped my jeans, and slid them off. My boots and socks went flying next.

  “Fuck,” he groaned. “Baby, I don’t know what the fuck’s going on inside that pretty head of yours, but you need to spill it before I sling you over my shoulder and carry your ass inside.”

  He didn’t get it. I wasn’t trying to seduce the man, I was trying to free myself. It made sense in my warped head anyway. “I just want to feel,” I whispered.

  Ignoring the way his brows furrowed with confusion, I stepped around him and out into the rain.

  It was an instant assault on my senses—cold drops of water sliding down the surface of my warm skin, slick blades of grass sliding between my toes, a slight rumble reaching up from the ground and shooting up through my entire body. I kept walking, maybe another twenty feet or so, my arms reaching out so that I could feel the rain on my palms.

  I closed my eyes and tossed my head back, letting rainwater cascade down my face. It was like drowning in the earth’s tears, blissful and bittersweet. I raised my arms and ran both hands through my drenched hair, relishing in the tingle they left on my scalp.

  I opened my eyes in time to see Torch—still by the picnic table—pulling his shirt off. Now it was my turn to freeze. He was even more chiseled than I remembered and new tattoos covered his torso.

  I bit down on my lip in an attempt to stay in the moment, watching him like a fucking predator as he stepped out of his own jeans and boots, leaving him in nothing but the sexiest pair of black boxer briefs I’d ever seen.

  There was nothing special about them, except the way the fabric tented and stretched over his straining cock. Fucking beautiful.

  He looked up at the sky and hesitated, before lurching out from under the tree’s dry shelter.

  It only took a few long strides for him to reach me. With nearly superhuman strength, he curled his arm around my waist and yanked my body to his, the sheer force causing my mouth to open and gasp for air. I hadn’t even realized I’d been holding my breath, but as he locked me into a flesh-covered vise, all of my remaining senses roared to life. The feeling of his warm skin pressing on mine—cold as it now was—sent my entire system into overdrive. Whatever haze had remained through my romp in the rain dissipated. I was completely in the moment, every nerve in my body humming in utter turmoil of the best kind.

  I looked up at him, reveling in the drops that fell from the tips of his hair onto my face. He reached around my head and brushed all of my soaked hair forward over my shoulder. His gaze fell to my breasts as he gathered it all up in his hand and squeezed the water out over them.

  Forget lightening, the electricity cursing through my veins was the real danger.

  I stifled a whimper as his hand released my hair and he brushed his palm up my neck and over my jaw.

  “Torch—”

  He fisted the hair behind my ear and launched an assault on my mouth. The earth literally fucking shook as another round of thunder ripped overhead. But it felt like it was coming from the growl in his chest and the tandem moan in mine, as he squeezed my waist tighter and forced my lips to part with his tongue.

  I didn’t hesitate to let him in and savored the way he explored my mouth greedily, before pushing my way into his. A grunt escaped his lips as I raised myself on my toes, reached up, and gripped the back of his neck as tight as his other hand was now gripping my ass.

  Savagely, we went at each other, like a pair of pirates trying to suck gold out of each other’s tongues. I could barely breathe, taking only quick and shallow breaths every time he drained all of the air from my lungs and inhaled it into his own.

  My nails had to have been cutting into his back as I clung to the muscles rippling beneath them. I forced myself to release my grip, but couldn’t make them leave his skin. So warm, so delicious, I never wanted to stop touching it. Ever.

  I slid my hand down his lower back and around to the front, pausing for a split-second before dipping my aching fingers under his boxers.

  His body stiffened but his lips kept moving. So, my hand moved too, right to that gloriously thick and hard shaft. I wrapped my fingers around it, eliciting a grunt as I stroked down his memorable length and reached around.

  I scraped my nails along the bottom of his balls, causing Torch’s body to jerk and his mouth to finally pull away.

  “Jesus, baby,” he choked out, lust dancing across his face. I trailed my hand back up his stomach and to his chest, giving him a chance to catch his breath and me the opportunity to keep touching him. Every ridge, mound, dimple, I wanted to touch it all. Lather, rinse, repeat.

  He wrapped his hand around my wrist as my fingers made their way to a skull tattoo on his left pec. I looked up at him questioningly.

  “You remember?” he rasped.

  Yeah, I remembered, clear as day. I glanced back at it, my heart racing. It wasn’t just a skull—that had been there before—it was a skull with red ladybugs crawling on it. Whatever walls were still standing tumbled down in a pile of dust at that very moment.

  I was done, finished, completely drained of any remaining resolve. I wanted him, all of him. I looped my arms around his neck, pulling his decadent lips back to mine and drank him in again. I didn’t want to stop, I never wanted to stop. And it was obvious from the way his body responded that Torch was in the same boat.

  Without breaking the greatest fucking kiss ever
, he wrapped an arm under my ass and pulled me up to his chest, while his other hand came around and gripped my neck. I wondered if he could feel every hair standing, the shiver that went through me was that intense. I wrapped my legs around him in an attempt to stay as close as possible, completely terrified of letting go and finding out that maybe this wasn’t real.

  Before I knew it, I was being lowered to the ground. Even with me clawing at him, Torch Larter was the most controlled man I’d ever met.

  The wet and lush grass under me felt soft. I fisted it in both hands as he pulled his kisses away from my mouth, around my jaw, and down my neck. As long as his mouth stayed on me, I really couldn’t care less where it was.

  I inhaled sharply as he made his way down to my collarbone and latched onto the sensitive skin, his teeth grazing it harshly before his tongue came along and soothed it. He was like an animal in heat, both of his hands now pushing my bra up over my breasts and caressing them. There was a fine line between pain and pleasure, and his passionate attack on my body was confusing the hell out of those particular receptors in my brain. All I knew was that it felt like every muscle in my body was on fire.

  Maybe that was why they called him Torch.

  And maybe he did have a fiery disposition under all that self control, because he suddenly propped himself up, took a bra cup in each hand, and ripped them apart, leaving me exposed. And even more turned on, if that was possible.

  “Fuck, baby. So beautiful,” he groaned, before diving back down and taking a nipple in his mouth.

  “Shit….” I breathed, my hand instinctively reaching around the back of his head. I tried to go south with the other one, desperate to wrap my fingers around that hard, throbbing cock, but he pulled it away and pinned it over my head.

  He stared me down and slid his hand under my panties. “If you don’t keep your fucking hands to yourself, I’m gonna lose my shit in seconds,” he hissed.

  “What’s wrong with that?” I squeaked out.

  His eyes narrowed. “What’s wrong with that is I’ve waited eight miserable years to get inside this sweet pussy again. And I’m going to fucking enjoy it.” His dropped his lips down for another kiss, taking my tongue in his mouth and gently biting down on it as two of his fingers pushed up inside of me and immediately found their way to that ever elusive g-spot. With more precision than a surgeon, he worked his magic on that little nub, stroking it with firm circles.

  That great white light that people supposedly walk into as they die? That probably had nothing on what I saw. It was like a flash bang grenade, intense and bright and fucking mind blowing.

  “Fuck, baby,” I gasped. I was starting to get dangerously close to coming myself

  “Jesus Christ, you’re so fucking wet, baby,” he murmured as I struggled to keep it together.

  Just as I was about to hit the brink, I felt his fingers pull out and and whimpered at the sudden absence. I arched my back in an attempt to get them to come back, but instead, he brought his hand to his mouth and sucked them clean. He closed his eyes, but the guttural moan that escaped his throat said it all.

  He pushed himself off me, hooked his fingers into my panties, and pulled them right off. I didn’t even have a chance to appreciate the fact that he’d left them intact before he lowered himself down to his stomach, slung my legs over his broad shoulders, and dove into my core, tongue first.

  I propped myself up on my elbows and threw my head back in absolute bliss, trying not to come completely unglued as his tongue moved in and out of me while the tip of his nose rubbed up against my clit. Every so often he’d clamp his lips down around it and suck gently, like he was trying to milk the orgasm out slowly.

  Combined with the soft hairs of his beard brushing the insides of my thighs, I knew I wouldn’t be able to hold out. I grabbed the back of his head and held on for dear fucking life. “Oh fuck, baby! Yes!” I screamed out, as years and years of the worst kind of frustration shot out of my body and culminated in the greatest fucking orgasm I’d ever had.

  Torch reached up and rolled both nipples between his fingers, extending the waves of release a few more memorable seconds. I fought to catch my breath.

  He climbed on top of me and wiped away the wisps of wet hair that were plastered to my face.“How’s your pussy so sweet, baby?”

  “How do you know your way around it so well?” I asked breathlessly. I truly had no idea. The man was a freak of sexual nature.

  But I didn’t let him answer, instead pulling his lips down to mine and kissing him again. I could barely feel my legs, but my hips impulsively rose to grind into his rock hard groin.

  My pussy was still throbbing, but it wasn’t from coming so hard that it could’ve been measured on the Richter scale. It was throbbing in need. I needed him inside of me, to feel every ridge on his cock as it slid and slammed into me.

  I ran my hands down his torso, using what little coordination I had left to slide his boxers down. He groaned and bit down on my lip as I rubbed my greedy clit along the underside of his shaft.

  I felt the tip of his cock slip between my folds, but he stiffened and dropped his head on my chest. “Shit,” he groaned.

  My eyes flew open. “What?”

  He sighed. “Condoms, baby. They’re in my wallet. Way the fuck over there.”

  I hadn’t even thought about protection. I didn’t want to think about it. I was already throwing all fucks out the window. “Are you clean?” I asked, trusting him to be honest a little too easily. But the fact of the matter was that I did trust him. Completely.

  “Haven’t not wrapped my shit since before we met and get tested twice a year. I’m clean.”

  I raked my nails over his back. Fuck it. “Me too. And I have an IUD.”

  His head shot back up and he eyed me skeptically. “What are you saying?”

  “Fuck me, baby,” I whispered.

  His eyes glinted with lust. “You sure?”

  “Are you seriously gonna make me beg?”

  A huge grin spread across his face. “Is that an option?”

  I let out an exasperated sigh. “Torch, if you don’t shut the fuck—”

  He must have thought twice about pushing his damn luck because my protests were cut off by a low growl and his mouth making a beeline for my neck. I loved that he was a biter, it drove me completely wild.

  As my back arched in pleasure, he threw my leg over his shoulder and invaded my pleading pussy with a single, desperate thrust. He pulled back and dove in again. And again. Every time with such intensity that my vision blurred. And every time he pulled back to do it again, the ridge of his tip grazed that most sensitive of spots. I could feel my walls closing in tighter and tighter just to keep him inside. I didn’t have to beg, my body was doing all the talking for me.

  “Fuck… baby… so good,” he moaned between heavenly blows. One after the other, each pass was more intense than the last.

  I was having a hard time getting oxygen myself. “God, please don’t stop. Don’t ever stop,” I pleaded. The rain had moved on, but drops of sweat were now forming on his brow and dripping down to my stomach. I felt my famished pussy clamp down on him and ripples of ecstasy curse to the surface.

  “That’s it, baby. Come for me agian,” he urged, wrapping my hair around his hand. “Jesus, you’re so fucking tight. I can’t…”

  I pulled my head against his grip, hoping he’d get the hint.

  He yanked my hair back, sending thousands of watts—one for every strand that tugged at my scalp—of sexual electricity through every limb, every nook and cranny.

  “Yes!” I wailed. “Fuck!”

  As soon as the first spasm hit, he jerked and let out a guttural gasp. His face scrunched and eyes rolled into the back of his head, as he erupted at exactly the same time.

  Time froze until we both caught our breath and he rolled to his back. Neither one of us said anything for the longest time, the sound of mutually labored breathing and his hand reaching out to hold mine was the
only communication between us. I didn’t mind, I wanted to relish every last moment in case it never happened again.

  I hoped to hell it would.

  He finally spoke up. “Baby?”

  I turned my head and looked at him.

  “This was hot and all, but my nuts aren’t feeling the draft. It’s cold as shit out here.”

  : :

  : 18 :

  Porter Pub, on Denver’s east side, was an eclectic dive lacking a solid identity. Here, legit business owners in suits mingled with incognito dealers looking to treat themselves to something fancier than two dollar tacos after a long day of hustling.

  As expected, Masters had made himself scarce after the Serb incident, but the club knew his sorry ass would pop up at some point today. He was a businessman and businessmen worked on Mondays. Now that they’d killed a potential source of income, he’d be chasing new clients.

  This morning, he was trying to schmooze a legit one, which was unfortunate because they were about to fuck the deal right before his eyes. Men like Masters only spoke one language—money—and the threat of losing it would be enough to keep him in check. If not, they could always resort to more personal threats.

  They’d discussed just offing the idiot, but as pissed off as they were, killing him wouldn’t really solve the problem. They might need him down the road. There was a time and place for bloodshed, and they’d already spilled plenty a few days earlier.

  Torch spotted him as soon as they walked in, sitting in a dark corner like the dirty bitch he was. Three other men sat around the table. The conversation seemed to be going well if their smiles and handshakes were anything to go by.

  That was about to change.

  All eyes were on the angry bikers as they strode across the restaurant. Masters about fell off his chair when Torch, Buddha, Zed, Grimm, and Mace surrounded it. All of them pulled out chairs from nearby tables and sat down.

  “Morning, Mr. Masters,” Buddha greeted. “Hope we’re not interrupting an important meeting, but this really couldn’t wait.”

  “I’m in the middle of something,” he sneered, shaken but trying to pretend like he had some balls.