Burning Daylight (A Devil's Cartel MC Series Book 2)

by Skyla Madi

  As if reading my mind, Judge kisses me, and I release his hair and melt into it, into him. In a second, his kiss turns rough and possessive as he crushes me under his weight. Hot flushes bloom over my body and flare with every flick of his tongue. I’m lost in his mouth and the way a strange buzzing vibrates under my skin, travelling across my face and down my neck to warm my chest. Judge presses between my legs and I lose my breath, knowing how good it’ll feel to have him deep inside me.

  Holding me captive in his kiss, Judge reaches between us to grab his length and glides the head of his cock through my creases, covering himself with my heated flesh. I hold my breath as he braces at my entrance and eases inside. I gasp, breaking the kiss, and he slows, not pushing any further than the tip. It’s been a while since I’ve been with a man. After Elias, I had no desire to be intimate with another man again, but Judge…he makes it feel right. Nothing in my life has felt right in a long time.

  Exhaling, Judge’s warm breath skitters across my cheeks and he grazes his lips across mine. “Want me to take it slow?”

  “No.” I smooth my hand down his bicep and he lifts, giving me access to slide my palm against his. “Don’t go slow.”

  Judge threads our fingers together and rests our hands above my head. Blood pulsates in my skull, covering my head like a throbbing helmet, and my heart races, battering my lungs. Keeping his eyes on mine, Judge slides his free hand under my backside and grabs my ass. I hold my breath as he angles my pelvis and pushes all the way inside with a husky groan, using his big thighs to push mine wide open. Slick sweat builds between our naked bodies, and I writhe beneath him as he stretches me, inch by inch, until he can’t anymore. Then he pulls out, only to plunge right back in—harder this time. His grip turns vicious, his gentle lips a hungry demand against mine, and I try to keep up, to return his energy, but god, he’s a force. Where Elias is lean and suave, Judge is thick and reckless, and somehow, he fills the cracks, a soothing glue to the painful holes Elias left in my soul. With every thrust, he makes a tight noise in his throat and it sets fire to my blood. Every push of his body creates friction and electricity. It creates a freaking supercell of energy deep in my pelvis.

  And we don’t speak.

  What’s there to say? I fear if one of us opens our mouths, this will stop. I don’t want to stop. I don’t want a single whisper to bring either of us back to our senses. I wonder if our words can even be heard over the passionate sounds we make. With one hand, Judge keeps his fingers tightly threaded through mine. With the other, he uses it to roam my body, exploring every inch of me, and every fingerprint left in his wake is left with purpose. He may never know it, but his touch is healing. He makes me feel like everything will be okay, like my son is safe even though he’s not in my arms.

  I’m pulled from my thoughts by Judge’s thick arms as he digs them underneath my body. Crushing me to him, he rolls onto his back and pulls me on top. His length probes deeper inside me, reaching its maximum point, and I plant my hands on his wide, muscular chest. I sit back, straightening my spine, and peer down at him as arousal throbs mercilessly between my legs. The cool moonlight from above brightens his features and casts light over the rises and depressions of his body, adding silver highlights to his moody black ink. I rock my hips, moving us together, as Judge smooths his rough hands along my thighs. Heat blooms under my skin in the wake of his touch and I shiver, opening my thighs wider, rocking faster.

  “You’re a sexy bitch,” Judge says, dragging his dark, hungry stare to my face.

  His esteeming gaze almost has me believing he hasn’t had a woman in a while. It almost has me believing he hasn’t had a woman his whole life.

  I arch a brow. “Bitch?”

  He plants his wide palm on the back of my neck and pulls my face to his. Kissing me roughly on the mouth, he turns his head and drags his lips along my cheek to my ear.

  “Yeah. Bitch.” I feel his lips quirk and he moves his face in front of mine. His eyes flash. “What, you don’t like it?”

  I don’t know much about their customs, but I know the term “bitch” isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Still, it burns my ears. “I’m not enthusiastic about it.”

  “Are you my woman?”

  I stop moving, not anticipating that kind of question. “I…”

  I don’t know what to say. Judge grabs my hips, thrusts his, and pins me on my back, driving hard and deep. Seemingly irritated, he hooks his hands underneath my knees and pushes them toward my chest. I gasp flies from my mouth, along with the air from the deepest parts of my lungs.

  “You’re in my head, in my bed, and I haven’t thought twice about not wearing a condom,” he rasps, digging his fingers into my flesh. “I’m feeling every deep inch of you, and I think that makes you my woman.” He leans forward and I moan as wild lust surges through me. “My bitch.”

  “That’s not how it works.”

  Judge releases my legs and I let them slide flat as he drops his torso against me, grinding his pelvis against mine. “That’s how it works around here.”

  Before I can open my mouth to protest, he kisses me, plunging his tongue between my lips. He groans into my mouth and alternates his thrusts between shallow and deep, soft and hard. Every cell in my being hones in on the sensations exploding from between my legs. So what if I’m his? Is that such a bad thing? I break the kiss and wrap my arms around his waist. I arch my back, smooth my palms to the tight muscles of Judge’s shoulders, and crunch my body, moving my face into the nape of his neck. I lick him there, where his shoulder slopes, and feel him shiver against me.

  “You feel good,” he murmurs, tilting his head, giving me more skin to lick and kiss. “So fucking good.”

  Judge picks up his tempo and I dig my nails into his back, holding on for dear life as he pounds into me over and over, bringing my orgasm to the forefront of my mind.

  “Yes,” I sigh on exhale, falling back against the pillows. I grip one in my hand. “Yes.”

  With my other hand, I grip his powerful bicep and relax my tightening thighs. With the newfound space, Judge dives his hand between my legs and drops his head to my chest with a groan. He fists himself, feeling how well we fit together, then circles my tiny bundle of nerves. It doesn’t take me long after that. The heat of my orgasm crashes into me with all the power of a solar flare and scrambles every cell in my body. He talks to me, but his words fall on ringing ears, his hot breath on buzzing skin. It isn’t until he pulls his hand from between my legs to grip the headboard, I realize what he said. Ragged gasps fall from his lips and his rhythmic thrusts become stilted and jerky. Then I feel heat as it spreads through me and into…nothing. The feeling causes tears to spring to my eyes, a bitter reminder nothing will ever grow inside me again, I suppose.

  I turn my head, expecting Judge to leave me on the bed and shower. Instead, he holds his softening length inside me and lowers his head to my cheek. He purses his lips and tries to regulate his breathing through his nose, before planting a soft kiss on my cheekbone. The gentle act tightens my chest.

  “I want you,” Judge says, matter of fact, and it stirs a nostalgic apprehension in my stomach. “You are mine.”

  I don’t turn my head to look him in the eyes. “Last time someone said that to me, they ruined my life.”

  “Me too.”

  I inhale and turn my head. Our noses graze. Although we’re different shapes, maybe we’re cut from the same cloth when it comes to relationships.

  I lick my lower lip. “You have to promise you won’t hurt me.”

  “I promise.” The words leave his lips without hesitation and his gaze remains steadfast and serious. His lips quirk, and although shadow covers his face, I see the shine in his eyes. “Easiest promise I’ve ever made.”

  “Then…” I swallow hard, praying I don’t live to regret the next four words that fall from my lips. “I am yours, Damon.”

  He buries his head into the space beside my neck and exhales. Letting out an anxious breath of my o
wn, I stare up into the lightening sky and chew the inside of my lip. It’s dangerous uttering those words to him, knowing what secrets I’m keeping. If he ever finds out, he’ll have no choice but to break his promise.

  THIRTEEN

  J U D G E

  I felt the late morning sun on my face, bright and warm, but it wasn’t enough to coax me into opening my eyes. I knew if I did, I’d have to slide into my cut and get on with the day. I wasn’t ready. I wanted to stay in bed with Minnie until the sun sank over the horizon. I brushed my thumb along the underside of her breast, and she shifted her naked body against mine. She sat perfectly against my thighs, our bodies aligned, her long goddamn hair in my face. I blew air out my mouth, an attempt to get her light strands off my lips, but it fell back, tickling my lower lip. Exhaling, I shifted, turning away from her, and made the mistake of opening my eyes. The smallest glance was all it took. I paused at the sight of five of my men in my room.

  “What the fuck?” I swore, swiping my hand over my face as I sat up.

  They stood there and stared, all of them dressed in their leather cuts, all of them invading my private space. None looked happy. Their presence cut sharply through the bliss and stuck like a knife in my spine. Something’s happened.

  “She’s a fucking cop, Judge!” Casino boomed, fisting a stack of paper. “It’s no wonder Elias Vergara wants her dead.”

  I frowned and glanced at Creed, who leaned against the doorframe, a mix of anger and sympathy on his face, his arms folded tightly over his chest. Scoffing, Casino threw the papers onto my bed and they scattered, some hitting the floor.

  “Read it,” he demanded. “You fucked up, Prez.”

  Beside me, the mattress dipped, and I looked at Minnie as she sat up, gathering the white sheets at her chest. I didn’t need to read the papers. Her face said it all. She’s a cop.

  And I’ve fucked up.

  A thick tendril of regret burrowed through me, along with a sickness I’d never felt. It was a chill, almost, and I hated the way it made my skin feel. I looked to Creed again, for answers, but all he gave me was a tilt of his head and a drum of his fingers against his bicep. It was my call. I had to deal with it.

  Minnie’s warm, slender hand pulled me from my thoughts as she smoothed it up my back, to my shoulder. Her touch cracked my shock and rage shone through.

  “Damon—”

  I shrugged her off and flicked my head in her direction. “String her up in the fucking barn.”

  “The barn? Damon, please. Please, you have to hear me out—”

  I tuned out Minnie’s protests, her pleading as she begged me to hear her out. Casino stormed around the bed and grabbed her. She thrashed against him, desperately clinging to the sheets that covered her body. Creed and Armi had to help him, and the three of them had no trouble ripping her from my bed, as naked as she was when she fell asleep.

  “Wait, wait! I can explain—Damon!” she shrieked from the hall, her shouts a fading noise.

  Exhaling, I dropped against my pillow. This was just my luck. I knew it was too good to be true because it always was. That was how my life went. Finally fell in like with a woman and she turned out to be the bane of my existence. I should’ve sent her away the first night she came, made Wrench repair the bikes on his own. I should’ve left her to die on the drive the night she blew up a motel…

  …but that was never gonna happen.

  I was intrigued by Yasmine Garcia the moment I met her down by the lake. The more I thought of her, and her betrayal, the tighter my chest got. I cleared my throat and shifted on the bed with a groan. My pulse quickened, my heart palpitating in my chest. I tried to moisten my dry mouth as my skin prickled all over. Was I having a stroke? I drew deep breaths through my nose and out my mouth as the off feeling quickly passed. What the hell?

  “Did you know?” Creed’s voice infiltrated my ears and I stilled, stuffing the shitty apprehension deep down in my gut.

  I only knew what Rah and Casino told me. This was on them as much as it was on me.

  “You think I would’ve let her into the clubhouse if I knew? Or have her in my bed?” I shook my head. “They brought me pictures of her kid, but not her badge? Un-fucking-believable.”

  “Do you love her?” he asked, not letting the silence grow for a second between us.

  “No.” But I wanted to love her, and I could love her, eventually. Just not at the cost of my club. “No. I don’t.”

  “Then what are you worried about?”

  I blew air from my lips. I was worried I was gonna walk into the barn and turn on my brothers…for a woman I clearly knew nothing about, for a goddamn pig. I sat up and turned my body, swinging my legs over the side of the bed to plant my feet on the soft, plush rug.

  “I’m not worried,” I lied.

  “What’re you gonna do?”

  I dropped my head back, tired of the damn questions. “She’s a cop, Creed. I’ll do what I have to, to protect the chapter.”

  ***

  I smoothed a hand down my cut before I grabbed the rusted handle of the giant, black barn and pulled the door open. Everyone was inside—everyone who mattered, at least. Creed, Armi, Casino, Stoic, Ayr, Modo, Hawk, Rah, and Amani. The rest of the members were in the clubhouse and out doing God knows what. They were none the wiser to what was going on down the back of the property. I entered the rustic building, hating the smell of dust and dry grass, and let the heavy door fall closed with a slam behind me. I dragged my attention over Modo and Ayr who stood at the back by the broken-down tractor, their heads hung as if I interrupted their whispers. Everyone else stood far apart, flanking each side of the long room. I felt their stares on me as I walked the thin, white line on the floor, courtesy of the swinging lights above. At the end of the line, Minnie sat, naked and roped to an old wooden chair. I clenched the roll of paper in my hand and swallowed hard. She was still on my skin.

  Her love. Her fucking lies.

  “Damon,” she said, her voice broken and tired. “Damon, please.”

  Six feet from her, I turned and handed the papers to Casino. It was all there, printed in black ink. She was Detective Yasmine Garcia of Oakland, California. She was handpicked by the FBI to infiltrate Elias Vergara’s life and deliver him on a silver platter once she gathered enough evidence to back up the allegations against him. I saw a picture of the day she was sworn in and she was as beautiful then as she was now, and the thought made me sick. A lot of thoughts made me sick. Was she still reporting to her superiors? Would fucking me make an appearance in her report? I thought back to the nights she was here at the clubhouse. Were any of us doing anything we’d get nailed for? The FBI just finished up on their never-ending investigation surrounding our chapter and it nearly crippled us. Fuck going through that again. Maybe this time there wouldn’t be much of an investigation. Maybe she gave the evidence they needed to put us all away.

  “Judge, listen to me—”

  “Shut your mouth, pig!” Casino barked over my shoulder and I absorbed my flinch.

  Angry heat spread up my neck, but there wasn’t a damn thing I could do. She was the enemy and I had to treat her like it.

  “Did you get to the end of the report?” she snapped back. “I fucking deserted! I’m not a cop anymore.”

  Casino snorted. “Once a cop, always a cop.”

  We’ve had defected cops in the fold before, difference was we knew about it and they jumped through hoops to join us. Yasmine sniffled and I turned away from Casino before I punched him again. Why was he so riled up? It wasn’t like she strung him along like an idiot.

  “You should hear her out, Prez,” Armi uttered as I approached him. Like he always did whenever we had someone tied up on this chair, he handed me my knife. “No sense in killing her if she no longer bleeds blue.”

  “Got a soft spot for pigs, Armi?” I asked, in fear everyone in this room saw right through me.

  “Got a soft spot for innocent human beings,” he shot back. “You do too.”

/>   I licked my lips and turned toward Minnie. She kept her head down, her long hair covering her face. The warm light that swung on a cord above her head cast bright highlights over her exposed, damp skin and dark shadows everywhere else.

  I carried many burdens on my shoulders, many regrets, and many bad deeds. This was just another stone to add to the pile. I’d learn to carry the weight, like I always had. I wish it were different, but it wasn’t, and I’d demand any of my men to murder their love interest if she betrayed them the way I’d been betrayed. I glanced at the knife in my hand. It was impeccably clean despite its past. How many traitors had I killed with this blade? Too many, so many I couldn’t remember anymore.

  Creed snatched my bicep as I passed by, pulling me out of my head.

  “Sorry,” he murmured, his eyes displaying the sincerity leaking through his tone. “Really.”

  “For what?”

  He tilted his head and the disappointment in his stare was more than I could stand. He was sorry Yasmine wasn’t the woman I thought she was. He was sorry she couldn’t be mine.

  I was sorry too.

  I shrugged him off and rolled my shoulders to adjust my hoodie and cut. I approached Minnie and stood under the flood of light that drenched her naked body.

  “You promised,” she whispered, and I flinched.

  She was stupid to hang her life on a promise after the information she withheld from me. What was I supposed to do? Turn around and tell my men, sorry, I pinky promised some bitch I wouldn’t hurt her? I was fucking president of this chapter and I swore an oath to be as cold as ice and as hard as stone. I was the judge, the jury, and the executioner, and she’d die by my hand. Clenching my jaw, I pressed the blade to her chin, and she hissed, lifting her head as I guided it. When it was straight, I used the sharp tip to push her hair out of her face, and I met her dark eyes. My heart pounded and sweat gathered on my forehead.