by K. A. Ware
“Tell me,” I said, hating how breathy I sounded.
Baz growled and nipped at my ear again. “Gonna fuck those gorgeous tits, fill that smart mouth of yours, sink into that tight wet pussy I love, and claim that fuckin’ perfect ass.”
“I, ah, I’ve never, um…I’ve never done that,” I whispered, my heart pounding.
He pulled back to look at me, his molten green eyes alight with fire as his lips spread into a sinister smile. “We’ll take it slow,” he said, bending to capture my mouth.
His teeth dragged against my lip, and I sucked on his tongue, both of us getting lost in the kiss. Too soon, the coppery taste of blood had me pulling away. His lip had started to bleed again, reminding me that he was hurt and I still hadn’t gotten a chance to check his injuries.
“Baz, come on, we need to clean you up,” I said, gently pushing him away.
“Fine, but for the record, my dick is standing in protest.” Guiding me to switch places, he washed his hands, and I busied myself by pulling my underwear and pants back on.
Reaching back, he pulled his shirt over his head before sitting back down on the toilet seat. I ate up every inch of exposed skin with my eyes, searching for injuries. To my surprise, aside from some redness and slight bruising on his left side, his body didn’t look too worse for the wear.
His face was a different story. Baz’s left cheek was scraped to hell, the flesh red and raw. “What the hell happened?” I asked, going to work on his wounds with a bottle of Bactine and a handful of gauze.
He sighed, wincing slightly as I patted at his cheek with the antiseptic. “Front tire got clipped, sent me ass over head on a gravel road.”
“How fast were you going?” I asked, worry gnawing at my stomach.
“Bike’s got street tires. Traction isn’t great on gravel, so we weren’t going too fast. Could’ve been worse.”
“No shit, I’ve seen what can happen when you go down on a bike. Promise me you’ll be careful?”
His eyes sparkled with mirth. “You worried about me, Rabbit?”
“Shut up,” I said, dabbing a glob of Neosporin onto his scrapes. There was nothing to do about his split lip. It’d have to heal on its own.
“You about done?” he asked, his knee bouncing.
“Yeah, I’m done. You got a place to burn that?” I asked, eyeing the bloodstained shirt balled up in his hands. “There’s too much blood for it to be yours, which means it’s someone else’s.”
“I was just going to bleach it.” He eyed me carefully as if he was trying to figure out my angle. I didn’t have one, but I couldn’t exactly blame him for wondering.
“Do you use chlorine bleach or an oxygen producing detergent?” I asked, tossing the used gauze in the trash.
His head jerked back and he gave me a funny look. “How the hell should I know?”
Wait, what? “You don’t do your own laundry?” I asked, incredulous.
He narrowed his eyes at me. “I feel like this is a trap.”
“You are a grown ass man. How do you not do your own laundry?” I shouted, looking to the ceiling. He was like an overgrown child who rode a motorcycle and wielded a gun.
He shrugged. “I’ve done laundry before. It’s just usually one of the girls does it.”
Oh, hell to the fucking no.
“You trust club whores to destroy DNA evidence?”
His brows pulled down as he thought about my question. “Well, shit, when you put it like that.”
“Look, I’m not trying to bust your balls. I mean the fact that you don’t do your own laundry is kind of ridiculous, but that’s not the point. The point is, regular bleach might remove the stain, but DNA can still be pulled from it. Besides, what about your jeans and leathers? You need a detergent that uses oxygen to destroy the stain. It’ll deteriorate the DNA enough to make it impossible to test.”
His head tilted to the side. “Wanna explain how you know all that?”
I shrugged, packing up the rest of the first-aid kit. “I googled it.”
“That honesty thing goes both ways, babe,” he countered.
Fuck.
“I am being honest. I googled it,” I said, ducking out of the bathroom.
“We both know there’s more to it than that.” Baz was hot on my heels, his fingers closing around my arm and spinning me to face him. His eyes searched mine before he heaved a sigh, releasing my arm to run a hand over his scalp. “I’m gonna let it go this time because I want to fuck you and something tells me if I push, you’re gonna get pissed, and I’m gonna end up with blue balls.”
There was no stopping the small smirk that tugged on my lips. “You’re not wrong.”
“Thought so,” he said shaking his head. “Eventually, you’re gonna have to let me in.”
The way his eyes pleaded for me to give him something, anything, was too much. Looking down at my bare feet, I gave him the only truth I could. “It’s not going to happen overnight, but I’ll try.”
Baz hooked a finger under my chin, raising it, so I was looking at him again. “Whatever skeletons you have in your closet, we can bury them together. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m the fucking boogeyman.” He wiggled his eyebrows with the joke, but I could see with the way his eyes tightened, he believed it. If he only knew how far from the truth that was.
“Yeah, okay.” Laughing, I shoved at his bare chest, all too willing to take the opportunity to lighten the moment.
“You think you can take me?” he asked, stalking toward me.
I retreated, matching him step for step. “I don’t think you’re as tough as you pretend to be.”
“There goes that fuckin’ mouth of yours,” he said, tracking me around the foot of the bed.
His playfulness was infectious. “Yup, what are you gonna do about it?”
“Think I’m gonna need to fuck that attitude out of you,” he growled. Lunging forward, he hooked an arm around my waist and tackled me to the bed.
An involuntary squeal escaped me as we flew through the air. We bounced a little before Baz rolled us, so I was pinned between his hard body and the mattress. My knees fell apart on their own accord, and he didn’t waste the opportunity, fitting himself between the cradle of my legs. He raised up on his forearms, muscles flexing and rolling under his taut skin as he hovered above me.
My hands skimmed up his back, careful of his side as I relived every fantasy I’d had over the past month. He flexed his hips, grinding the growing erection in his pants against my core. Suddenly, I wished I hadn’t gotten dressed after our little rendezvous in the bathroom. There were too many clothes between us.
As if he’d read my mind, Baz shifted, sitting up on his knees and bringing me with him. Without a word, he pulled my hoodie and shirt over my head, revealing the sheer white lace bra I’d worn specifically for the reaction I knew it’d get. Not that I would ever admit it aloud.
Baz didn’t disappoint, the way his eyelids got heavy and his breath hitched ever so slightly, sent a thrill of excitement through me.
“Fuckin’ hell, woman,” he murmured, his voice deeper with more gravel in it than normal.
Dipping his head, he closed his lips around one peak. I moaned as the abrasive lace, wet from his tongue, rubbed against my tight nipple. He sucked harder, sending a pulse of desire straight to my clit. Clawing at his back, I pushed up, arching into him, silently begging for more.
He released my nipple, his mouth moving to my shoulder as his hand trailed up my spine, deftly unhooking the clasp of my bra. His lips wandered to my neck as he guided the thin lace material down my arms, discarding the garment somewhere on the floor. His calloused hands came around to palm my breasts, thumbs stroking the stiff peaks, snagging slightly on the barbells there.
Baz raked his teeth against the sensitive flesh just below my ear causing goosebumps to spread along my arms and chest. “Fuckin’ perfect,” he whispered against my skin.
In one fluid movement, Baz hooked his hands under my knees and
climbed from the bed, yanking me with him. My back hit the mattress, and I let out a grunt as he manhandled my jeans from my body. Apparently, he was done playing nice.
Kicking off his boots, he unfastened his belt and made quick work of his jeans and boxers. I devoured every inch of him as he stood at the foot of the bed completely naked. He’d fucked me against a wall when we first reconnected, but we’d both been mostly dressed. His body was even more incredible than I remembered and I wanted to pinch myself to make sure I wasn’t dreaming.
“On your hands and knees,” he said, but it was more of a command than anything. Normally, not one to be ordered around, I’d put up a fight, but the anticipation of what was to come had me obeying. I wanted it however he wanted to give it, but that voice in my head told me I couldn’t give in without at least a little fight.
“I thought you said I could be on top?” I asked, looking over my shoulder to smirk at him.
Baz returned my grin, his eyes eating up the sight of my bare skin. “I lied.”
The palm of his hand ran up my spine, guiding my top half down against the mattress as he positioned himself behind me. My breath grew shaky in anticipation as I waited a beat, then two for him to do something, but he didn’t. Right as I was about to snap at him to fuck me, he surged forward, impaling me with his hard length. All the breath left my lungs, a high pitched keening noise falling from my lips as the power behind his thrust sent my body lurching forward.
I scrambled for leverage, placing my palms flat against the flimsy wood headboard to brace myself as he continued his brutal assault on my pussy. Just as I was finding my rhythm, rocking back against his thrusts, he lifted one of my legs, hooking it around his hip. The new angle opened me up so that each stroke brought him impossibly deeper.
My walls clenched and I gasped each time he bottomed out, I was so fucking close to the edge my body felt like it was on fire. “Yes, please, oh God!” I pleaded, reaching for the intense pleasure I knew was yet to come.
“Fuck, you’re so damn wet,” he growled.
I moaned, my orgasm so close I could practically taste it, the way his cock moved inside me driving me to the brink. Without warning, Baz released my leg and pulled out, flipping me onto my back. I opened my mouth to protest, but he spoke first.
“I need to watch you come,” he said, climbing over me.
I wasn’t going to object if it meant he was going to keep fucking me like it was his damn job, so I hooked my legs around his waist, pulling him to me.
Baz gripped one of my thighs, pushing it toward my body as he entered me in one fluid movement. If I’d thought he could get deep before, it was nothing compared to the way the head of his cock hit the exact perfect spot with every stroke.
His arms curled under my shoulders, using my body as leverage. There was nothing I could do but take what he was giving, losing myself in the feel of him all around me. The building pressure returned with a vengeance, and soon I was panting, begging for release.
He ground his pelvis against my clit with each down stroke, egging my orgasm on. “Come for me, babe. Let go. I need to feel you, see you.”
It only took a few more brutal thrusts to send me flying over the edge. My body locked up and I felt my pussy pulse around him as I let go, screaming his name. Baz slowed his movements, letting me ride out the moment before pulling away. I watched in confusion as he climbed off me, moving to stand at the foot of the bed. I didn’t think he’d finished, so why the hell was he getting up?
“Come give me that mouth,” he said, slowly stroking himself.
My heart skipped, and I felt a rush of wetness between my legs as I realized what he wanted. I’d just came my brains out, and I already wanted more, but I wanted to see him come apart just as much. Sitting up on my knees, I crawled the short distance to where he stood at the foot of the bed. Eyes locked on his face, I opened my mouth, letting his slick cock slide between my lips.
I could taste myself on him as I hollowed out my cheeks and sucked him deep. Moaning, I bobbed up and down, my tongue flicking the underside of the head with each retreat. He grunted, his hands sifting into my loose hair, pulling away the strands that had fallen into my face.
Baz sucked in a breath through his teeth when I relaxed my throat and took as much of him as I could without gagging. Reaching up, I cupped his balls with one hand, letting my knuckle press against the sensitive skin just behind his sac. He grunted at the action, his hips thrusting forward of their own accord.
Baz bit out a string of curses, taking control and holding my head in place as he fucked my mouth. Releasing his balls, I snaked my hand between my legs and began stroking circles around my sensitive clit. As much as I wanted Baz to get his, I needed some relief of my own. My ministrations got faster as Baz’s thrusts became erratic and I reached my precipice just as his cock began to pulse. I swallowed his release greedily, riding out my own wave of pleasure.
“Goddamn perfect,” Baz mumbled, more to himself than anything when I pulled away and moved to lay back on the bed.
He collapsed next to me, pulling me to him in a tangle of limbs and exhaustion. Curling up next to his side, I hooked a leg over his and rested my head on his chest. It was a perfect fit, we were a perfect fit, and as scary as it was, I was beginning to let myself believe that we might last.
You’re falling for this guy, and you still don’t know his name.
The random thought popped into my head, and I couldn’t help but laugh.
“I don’t think I’ve ever had a woman laugh after sex.”
“I’m sorry,” I wheezed, trying to stop the giggles that were taking over my body. “It—it’s just, I’ve spent the past month just trying to get to know you because I didn’t want the sex to interfere with my decision, and I still don’t fucking know your real name.”
“What decision?” he asked, his hand skating over my bare back.
That sobered me up. “Whether to give you a chance or not.”
“And what’s the verdict?”
A small smile pulled at my lips. “I’m here aren’t I?”
“Need the words, babe.”
Rolling to my back, I stared at the popcorn ceiling. What would it mean if I admitted to giving us a real shot out loud? Would it change things? Would he change? As scary as it was, I decided to take a chance and place my battered trust in his hands. I just hoped I didn’t regret it.
Turning my head on the pillow, I looked up at his damaged face. Even with road rash covering his left cheek, he was still beautiful. “Yeah, I’m giving you a shot. Don’t fuck it up.”
Reaching over, he pulled me to him, positioning our bodies so my top half was sprawled across his chest and our legs were tangled together in the sheets.
“Micah,” he said suddenly.
“What?” I asked, lifting my head to look up at him.
“My name, Micah James Bassett.”
“Micah,” I repeated, laying my head back down.
My fingers absently drew circles on his bare skin as I mulled the name over. It fit him, but I couldn’t help but wonder if Baz and Micah were two different sides of the same man. What if the man I’d been getting to know was really Micah, and Baz was someone else entirely? He’d said he was the boogeyman, but I knew that wasn’t true. No, the real boogeyman had silver-gray eyes and an affinity for knives and teenage girls.
Baz may not be all good, but I found myself making peace with it because as dangerous as he might be to the rest of the world, he was quickly becoming my safe place. If he’d proved anything to me over the past month, it was that he’d protect me, or at the very least, try. Still, the guilt that he didn’t know what he was protecting me from kept sleep at bay.
As I laid there, wrapped in his arms, I realized if my choices were not having Micah James Bassett in my life or suffering eternal damnation for turning a blind eye to his sins, I’d happily bask in the hellfire.
Eighteen
BAZ
My cell buzzed from somewhere in t
he room, pulling me from a particularly enjoyable dream starring a certain redhead. Cracking an eye, I groaned at the early morning light that spilled from the window above my bed. Looking down, I breathed a sigh of relief seeing Rabbit curled up next to me.
She didn’t run.
Until that moment, I hadn’t realized how worried I was that she’d try to pull a Houdini on me again. Relaxing back into my pillow, I took a minute to look at her.
She was tucked up against my right side. Wild red hair splayed over my arm and the pillow behind her. She looked peaceful, her face free of worry as her cheek rested on my chest. How in the hell we managed to stay in that position all night, I’d never know, but it had been the best sleep of my life.
Usually, my mind was a mess with all the shit I needed to handle, making sleep hard to find, but last night was different. The only thing I could think to explain it was that I had Rabbit by my side.
My phone buzzed again, reminding me what had woken me up in the first place. Slowly, I slid from the bed, my ribs groaning in protest with every move. I was going to be sore as fuck for the next couple of days, but I’d do it all over if it meant I ended the night inside Rabbit again. Careful not to wake Rabbit, I found my jeans in a heap on the floor, fishing through the pockets until I found my cell.
Jester: You awake?
Jester: Need to talk before church
I punched out a reply and headed for the bathroom to grab a quick shower before church. I had a feeling it was going to be a long ass day. If the conversation we’d had last night was any indication, the club had some big decisions to make—decisions that could change everything.
Rabbit was waking up when I walked out of the bathroom in search of clothes.
“You’re up early,” she said, lifting her arms above her head and stretching. The sheet shifted, dropping a few inches to expose her perfect tits. I wanted to say fuck it and climb back into bed with her, but I had responsibilities, ones that were only going to get more demanding when Chains stepped down. Might as well get used to having permanent blue balls now.