Rafe (Devil's Flame MC Book 1)

by Romi Hart

Kira scoffed. “Fat chance, man whore.” She pressed herself tight against Rafe’s side, and he instinctively puffed with pride. “I think I found my permanent ride.”

  Zeke sighed and shook his head. “What a waste.” Then, he laughed again. “Congratulations, brother. I’m happy if you are.” He grew serious glancing back and forth between them. “Should I assume your attack was successful?”

  “Jake’s dead. And Kira escaped on her own,” Rafe told him, his pride growing even fuller. “She all but saved my life.”

  “Well, then,” Zeke said, eyeing her with appreciation, “she’s much more than a pretty face. Kira Hawthorne. Who would have thought?”

  “I hope that’s not a problem for you,” Kira said, a warning tone to her voice, and Rafe hid a smirk.

  “Not at all,” Zeke said, raising his hands in surrender. With a twinkle in his eyes, he continued, “In fact, I find it pretty amusing. Do you know what Rafe did before we walked into that damn dive bar the night we met?” Rafe gave him a withering look, but he knew it wouldn’t stop Zeke from telling the story. “He told us that no one, not even him, was allowed to touch you. No one was going to sleep with you, and the only damage would be if we had to haul you away kicking and screaming. And then, here’s this guy, suddenly thinking with his little head, taking you back and making the dogs howl with the way you two were knocking against the wall.”

  To her credit, and Rafe’s amusement, Kira didn’t even blush as she replied, “And you know what I vowed when you guys walked in? I vowed I wasn’t sleeping with anyone, especially this guy. I was going to tease and make a show of things for everyone else and then go home alone. And then my second set of lips got a little wet and decided they needed to be kissed by a man with this much testosterone flowing through his veins.”

  With wide eyes, Zeke roared with laughter, and Rafe couldn’t help but join him. It wasn’t often anyone shut him down like that, and Kira had just turned his whole world upside down.

  Just like she’d done to Rafe.

  “Welcome to the club, sister. You’re going to fit right in,” Zeke said, reaching out for her hand and kissing the back of it like a true gentleman.

  With mirth written all over her face and triumph in her eyes, Kira looked at Rafe. “You’re right. He’s got a few manners in him, too.”

  Rafe snorted. “On occasion. I told you, we all know how to be gentlemen. Some of us just choose to adhere to a code of chivalry more often than others.” But he winked at Zeke, a silent thanks for his vote of confidence. Of all the guys in his club, the only opinion he’d truly cared about was Zeke’s, and getting his best friend’s blessing was the icing on the cake. It also helped that Corey seemed to have his back, even after all the shit he’d pulled and the hell he had put the club through for six long years.

  And thinking of that, he remembered what Kira had said about not being certain of her future endeavors. He was in the same position. Sure, he had the MC, and of course, he had the pleasure of keeping Kira for the foreseeable future. But where did his purpose lie? He supposed there was plenty of club business to deal with, opportunities to expand now that he wasn’t fixated on a single goal, and the Kings would still have to be policed for a while.

  But he could figure all of that out later. For now, he wanted to enjoy the victory and the contentment of having his arms around the most beautiful woman he’d ever met. She was enviably gorgeous, but she was also smart and sassy and his equal in every way. In the past, he’d never appreciated that sort of thing, wanting to dominate the women he chose so he could push them aside when he was bored. He only hoped Kira never tired of him.

  “So, when are you going to settle down and stop chasing skirts?” Kira asked Zeke with a teasing glint. “I don’t think the nurses appreciate your advances.”

  Rafe couldn’t believe she’d asked him that, and Zeke looked horrified. “No way, lady. Don’t even start getting ideas about setting me up with someone.” He shook his head adamantly. “I’m a lifelong bachelor. I get too much good in too many places. Why settle for one dish when the buffet is still available?”

  Jabbing a finger at him, Kira replied, “Because one day, you’re going to be too old to chew all the prime rib out there. You might want to secure your ability to fill that appetite while you still have the looks.”

  It was Rafe’s turn to laugh, especially at the indignant expression on Zeke’s face. He didn’t even have a retort for that, and the love Rafe felt for Kira doubled in that moment. “Come on, babe. We should get out of here before Zeke hurts himself trying to throw a right hook and falling out of bed. Leave him to the nurses. Maybe they’ll tie him up in a straight jacket to keep his hands off them.” To Zeke, he said, “I’ll see you later, bro. Give me a call when they’re ready to release you, and I’ll haul your ass home.”

  Zeke was mumbling to himself as they left, but Rafe ignored him, throwing an arm around Kira’s shoulders and kissing the top of her head. “I can’t believe how you handled him. No one talks to Zeke like that, and it was priceless when you left him speechless.”

  Kira beamed at him. “I just felt like he needed his ego brought down a notch or two. Besides, he’s a good guy. He’s just…cocky. Arrogant. And it’s fun to banter with him.”

  “You aren’t thinking of leaving me for him, are you?” Rafe asked, only halfway joking. For some reason, Zeke’s prodding about not having the chance to woo Kira first rubbed him the wrong way.

  “Not a chance,” she said, turning into him and leaning into his chest. “It’s you I want, Rafe. I’m not here to get into the Flames. I’m here because you brought me here, and I fell in love with you.”

  Feeling secure again, Rafe stroked her hair. “Change of plans,” he said, abruptly urging her forward and rushing down the hall.

  She tripped and skipped to keep up with his pace. “What do you mean?” She sounded alarmed, and Rafe smiled to himself.

  “I’m taking you home right now. We’re going to get your things and pack them up, while you’re still crazy about me. I want you with me tonight and every night, and I’m terrified you’re going to change your mind when you wake up in the morning. At least if we have all your things, it’ll be a bit of deterrent, having to move all that again.”

  “Rafe, wait!” She dug her heels in and tugged, halting his progress, and he was forced to stop and turn to her. “I’m not going anywhere. I told you, I love you. I don’t care what else I do for the rest of my life, I want to do it with you.”

  Hearing her say it made his chest swell, and his heart pounded with anticipation for what they could be together, as much as with fear of what he stood to lose if she ever changed her mind. “Fine. Then, we’re packing you up, and you’re moving in tonight. And maybe tomorrow, after my meeting, we’ll steal away to Vegas, and I’ll make an honest woman of you.”

  She stared at him in disbelief. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

  Nerves rattled, Rafe swallowed. “I just want to make sure I’ve done everything I can to secure our relationship.”

  Stepping forward, she smiled and caressed his cheek. “I would marry you tomorrow, but I swear to you, I’m not going anywhere. Why don’t we take it slow for a while? I mean, we sort of jumped in headfirst. Let’s enjoy it, and if you’re really ready to get married, let’s plan a wedding the right way, with enough time to do it right.”

  For the first time in his life, the idea didn’t terrify Rafe, and he nodded, bending his neck to kiss her. “I think I could handle that. I’d love to see you in a white dress, walking down an aisle to meet me in front of everyone we know.”

  She threw her head back, laughing. “Even if it’s Flames on one side of the aisle and Kings on the other?”

  Rafe grunted. “Even if.” It was a good thing they’d called a truce, he thought, and he’d do whatever he needed to maintain that, for the sake of Kira’s love.

  Zeke - Special Preview

  1

  The infernal beeping made it hard to hide, to fall into
that quiet place where the searing pain and the flashing memories disappeared, and voices continuously interrupted delectable dreams of women catering to him, insatiable for the favors he delivered. Zeke just wanted to crawl back into the haze of numbness, to drown in the sensation of drugs flowing through his veins and dousing the agony that threatened his sanity.

  He knew where he was, but he wanted to be anywhere else. Hell, with the inability to rest soundly, he might as well be back under the heavy hits of the men who’d put him here. He winced, even in that place between wakefulness and sleep, at the physical memory of a boot connecting with his ribs and the popping sensation that told him at least two of those bones had broken.

  He rolled his head, as if he could deny that pain, and the image faded, replaced by one that nearly made him hurl. The sharp, indescribable sensation of the blade buried deep in his gut, and going down, knowing he was going to die. The enemy outnumbered him, and he had no means of contacting anyone else to send out a distress call, his phone tossed away and probably shattered.

  When Rafe arrived, Zeke had accepted death as the outcome, and his best friend’s backup made him worry more about the lashing Rafe would get for leaving his post without orders than about his own survival. Rafe had saved his life, and Zeke owed him for it. And that thought finally cleared the last of the haze and brought forward the need for consciousness, despite feeling like a tractor trailer had run him over and then backed up and done it again.

  Groaning, he forced his eyes open and instantly squinted against the glare of the bright white hospital lights around him. As he came to, he also realized any number of his brothers in the Devil’s Flames MC could also be laid up in hospital beds around him, including Rafe, with the considerable size of the setup that had gotten him the five star accommodations.

  Fucking Hawthorne, he thought. And that asshole, Gomez. Zeke clenched his teeth against a raging headache that threatened to take him back under, and a new monitor started beeping loudly, with an insistence he knew would draw attention from the staff. That wasn’t his intention, and he noted that the blood pressure cuff had tightened. He glanced at the machine, saw the numbers, and knew he needed to calm down before he burst a blood vessel in his forehead.

  Besides, he’d never be allowed any visitors and would have to lie here and drive himself mad, wondering the outcome of the whole situation if he didn’t get his temper under control and his vitals stabilized.

  He closed his eyes and tried to focus on his breathing until he heard the curtain being drawn. Peering from beneath one lid, he saw a nurse in standard blue scrubs, except that he’d never seen anyone fill out a set of scrubs like that before. Opening both eyes, he swallowed hard at the vixen who had entered his hospital room.

  The woman was thin and fit, but she still had the perfect curves, the kind Zeke could just imagine gripping with his large hands. Her dark auburn hair was pinned up tightly, but he could tell it was long and thick, and he wanted to unleash it and watch it flow down her back. And she moved with a grace that told him just how much fun it would be to have her slither over him in bed.

  He’d just about reined in his arousal when she turned to face him, and her creamy porcelain skin framing the palest of blue eyes he’d ever seen captivated him and took his breath away. Of course, the hateful glare she shot at him doused his desire to reach out and grab her, more efficiently than the pain he felt.

  “I see you’re finally awake,” she said, a bite in her tone that didn’t fit her angelic beauty. Zeke was actually reminded of the nuns who ran the Catholic school he’d attended as a young boy.

  “If that offends you, I’ll try to go back to sleep,” he told her, his voice barely coming out. Clearing it and choking, he asked, “Damn, how long have I been out?”

  “About thirty-six hours,” she bit out, paying more attention to the monitors than to him. “I’ll need to get something for your blood pressure, a sedative, if you don’t calm down. In other words, it would be in your best interest to go back to sleep.”

  Coughing again, he asked, “Can I get a drink first? And maybe find out about the rest of my brothers?”

  She scoffed, all but shoving a plastic container into his hand. He took a sip and sagged in relief, not realizing how thirsty he’d been. Sure, it was room temperature, but it was wet and felt good going down his throat. “You mean the bikers who won’t get out of my ward?” Zeke frowned, not sure why she sounded so offended, but she didn’t give him a chance to respond. “You’re the only one here, as far as I know. And you’re lucky to be alive, from what I’ve seen in your chart.”

  She glanced at him finally, derision in her eyes, and it dawned on Zeke what was wrong. This woman had already judged him, had already made a snap decision that, just because he wore a cut, he was a criminal and didn’t deserve the services she provided. He was no stranger to that attitude; it was pretty pervasive, even though a lot of the businesses in the community had come to know the Flames fairly well.

  He sighed to himself, wanting to assure her that he didn’t get into illegal dealings, but she wouldn’t believe him. After all, he’d come into the ER and into her ward here with what most would consider injuries from a gang related attack. He hadn’t shaved in days and couldn’t imagine how swollen his face must be. He definitely looked the part of a gang member with no morals.

  “So, what’s the prognosis, Nurse Curvy?” he asked, a smirk on his face. Her eyes cut to him with outrage, and he winked at her. Since she already had preconceived notions about who and what he was, he might as well give her what she expected from him.

  Pressing her lips together and narrowing her eyes, she hesitated, staring him down, and then finally huffed. “My name is Leigh Marks. You can call me Leigh or Miss Marks. You may not make misogynistic remarks.”

  He quirked a brow at her. “I didn’t realize a compliment to the fact that you have a figure even scrubs can’t hide would be misogynistic. My apologies, if you don’t like being told how gorgeous you and your sweet little ass are.”

  She inhaled sharply, her eyes going wide at that comment, but to his amusement, she chose to ignore it. “The prognosis, Mr. Austin,” she said, strongly emphasizing the formal address that made Zeke wince and think of his father, “is that you’re going to need long term rehab. And that’s just for the knee and foot, after another surgery tomorrow.” She added under her breath, just loud enough for her to hear, “There’s no telling what else you’re into that’s going to require rehab.”

  “Hey, don’t even go there, Sweet Cheeks. You can read my chart and know for a fact I’m clean and sober. I have a drink from time to time, but I’m not a user.”

  She scoffed and shook her head as she changed out a bag of fluid hanging from the IV rack. “Whatever. I don’t have the time or the interest to read your chart.” An obvious lie, considering she’d spoken about how grave his chart looked before, not to mention the way she averted her eyes. “Besides, once you have the surgery, you’ll probably be out in a day or two. None of my business.” She stopped moving and stared at him hard. “Just do us both a favor. Let’s be cordial to each other. Let’s not have lewd comments or rude interactions.”

  Debating on whether or not to respond in a serious manner, Zeke went with his instinct. “Well, I suppose I could rein it in, if you want. But please, feel free to come onto me as much as you like. I’m used to beautiful women wanting me. And trust me, I’m a little banged up, but I’ll be back to full functionality in no time.”

  Rolling her eyes and looking perturbed, Leigh shoved away, typing something into the digitized records. As she hustled out of the room, she threw over her shoulder, “Someone will bring you something to eat. Don’t expect to see me again any sooner than I’m obligated by my position.”

  Then, she disappeared, and Zeke leaned his head back, the throbbing taking over and threatening to send him back into the black hole of unconsciousness. But as he pictured the sway of Leigh’s hips and the venom in her tone, he smiled to himself.
She was sassy and would be a great force to conquer. And as he thought about that, his cock twitched. All of his fantasies would carry him a long way, once he was out of this place and on his own.

  Until then, he had to keep it under wraps, which meant taming his dick for at least a few more days. Reminding himself that he’d be obligated to physical therapy, and that he’d likely have a brace up to his knee for a long time, went a long way in bringing him down from his high.

  He sat in the bed for a few minutes, trying to assess the areas that ached and stung and equate them to what he’d gone through, just to take inventory of the worst of his injuries. Of course, his leg had a tight wrap, and he finally realized it had been latched to the bed, probably so nothing shifted until they completed whatever surgical procedure was left. The whole thing from the hip down hurt like a son of a bitch and felt heavier than cast iron, but it didn’t compare to the sting in his side.

  Shifting carefully so he didn’t damage the IVs going into his left arm or set off anymore alarms, he moved the detestable hospital gown to take a look. He winced, not even wanting to count the stitches, but it looked like a clean cut. The whole area was red and tender, and he’d probably have a nice scar.

  Above that were the bandages wrapped around his ribs. There wasn’t much else to be done about that. It would hurt to breathe for a few weeks, and then the pain would subside, except for small reminders when the weather acted up now and then.

  Bits and pieces of the attack were missing, he must have taken a hit to the head, considering that there were areas that were tender to the touch. And his face…well, maybe they hadn’t packed much of a punch since he could see out both eyes, but he knew there was bruising everywhere.

  His only solace was knowing that no one else had been injured enough to end up in the next room. Hopefully, that meant they’d all gotten back to the clubhouse and gotten patched up, not that there were bodies to be buried. He hadn’t noticed any law enforcement outside his room, waiting to question him. And Nurse Ratchet with the killer bod hadn’t sent them in. He figured she hated him enough to point them in his direction the minute he woke up, if they were waiting.