Flamed with Courage: Notorious Devils (Cash Bar Book 3)

by Hayley Faiman

  Turning my head to the side, I open my eyes to find Snake staring back at me. A prospect hands me a beer, and I take it in my grasp, feeling the cool bottle against my fingers. It’s business as usual around here. Two prospects are dealing with three bodies, the pool table where DD was found has been taken out to be burnt and we’re all sitting around like nothing fucking happened.

  “She saw the file you have on me,” I announce. “Locked her in your office, told her to look for a gun and she found my file, complete with pictures. She knows everything. She thinks I don’t want her anymore,” I say, bringing my beer to my lips and take a pull from it.

  “Fuck,” Snake hisses. “Why does she think you’re leavin’ her?”

  I laugh, humorlessly, because at the end of the day it isn’t fucking funny, it’s too goddamn real. “Obviously, my name doesn’t protect her like I’d imagined it would,” I state.

  “Now she knows the truth though, you don’t have to hide Gemma or the past from her anymore. I’d think that was reassuring,” he offers.

  Thinking about his words, I nod. I’m not sure how I’m going to proceed with Whitley. I like her too much to break things off with her. The commitment I made when I branded her, wasn’t just to protect her, it was a combination of things. I really do care for her, more than any other woman I’ve known.

  I’m sure it says something about me, that I care for her more than I did Gemma, yet I’ve known Whitley for only a fraction of the time that I knew Gemma. Whatever it says, I’m sure it means I’m some kind of fucking asshole, but I already knew that. That fact isn’t anything new.

  “Leaving for Idaho on Monday, I’ll figure it all out when I get back. Whitley will be in her new place, I still want a man on her,” I say, standing from the bar.

  Snake nods. “You got it, brother. I’m going home to my wife. Don’t do anything until you’ve really thought about it, and maybe even talked to her about it,” he offers.

  I watch him walk away, wondering when we got to this point in our lives. When did we become men, who thought about our actions, and reactions. When did we become fucking responsible? Deciding to go back to my room, I turn and head in that direction. Something catches the corner of my eye, and I pause.

  Jizzy is being taken by two guys, while she sucks off another. It’s hot, but when my eyes meet hers, she looks vacant. She should be in her room resting, after the day we had, nobody should be thinking about sex. But she’s there, going through the motions, looking fucking dead.

  I give her a sad smile and turn away. I can’t watch anymore, and the men inside of her look about the same. They’re all just trying to feel. Our club was dealt a blow today, and it’s going to take a little while to get back on our feet again, for shit to get back to normal.

  Walking into my room, I close the door behind me and look toward the bed. Whitley is there, all rolled into a protective ball and I frown. I should probably leave her alone, but I can’t, or I won’t. She’s still mine until I say otherwise.

  Divesting myself of my clothes, I strip down completely naked before crawling into bed behind her. I hate that she’s not wearing my shirt, but I don’t wake her up and make her change like I would have a couple days ago.

  Tonight, I hold her. I don’t know what is going to happen when I get back from Idaho, and the rest of my trip, but for tonight I’m going to hold onto my woman tight and be thankful that she wasn’t taken.

  WHITLEY

  I feel Free’s hand slide up my thigh, gripping me tightly as his mouth skims my neck. “I want to be with you, still, Kitten,” he rasps against my skin.

  My entire body breaks out in a shiver from his words. I don’t open my eyes, I keep them closed, but my breaths start coming out in pants.

  “Say my name, Kitten,” he murmurs.

  “Free,” I exhale, lifting my arm and diving my fingers into the short strands of hair at the back of his neck.

  He hums against my neck, sucking some of my skin between his teeth. “My real name, Whitley, call me Mason,” he quietly demands.

  His hand slides around my hip, his fingers teasing the waistband of my panties while his lips kiss and suck on my neck. “Mason Kelly,” I sigh.

  He grunts, his fingers diving between my legs. I moan when they graze my clit, widening my top leg to give him more room. I’m sure it’s shameless, but his touch makes me just that.

  “Fuck,” he hisses against my neck, his finger filling me, causing me to hiss as well.

  “Say it again, Kitten,” he growls.

  “Mason,” I cry out a little louder than before. His finger slides out of me and swirls my clit as a reward for following directions.

  “Tug these panties down, or I’ll rip them off,” he warns. Using my hand, I tug them down as far as they’ll go, which isn’t much past my thighs. “Just like that, arch your back, Kitten,” he instructs.

  I arch pressing my ass against his hard length, I feel him adjust behind me and then his cock is pressing against my entrance. Closing my eyes, I let out an exhale when he fills me from behind. His hand slips around my hip and I feel his fingers against my clit.

  “When you come, call me Mason,” he grunts as he pulls out of me and then slams back inside.

  His fingers stroke my clit, while he thrusts in and out of me, my breath escaping my body on a whoosh every single time. My stomach clenches, and I can feel myself climbing higher toward my release with every touch from his finger and every stroke of his dick.

  My fingers tighten in his hair as I rear back against him, fucking him at the same time he fucks me. It feels amazing, and I refuse to open my eyes, I refuse to break the spell. “Mason, oh God, I’m close,” I cry out.

  He growls and when I come I whisper his name, my pussy pulsing and clamping down around him. He growls, pushing me over onto my stomach before he wrenches my hips back. I can’t move or spread my legs wider, my panties around my thighs inhibiting my movement. Free growls, his movements becoming jerky and losing their rhythm and that’s when he thrusts deep inside, planting himself before he comes on a groan.

  As soon as I feel his cum fill me, my body freezes. Jack’s words about babies and Free fill my mind. “Kitten?” Free says, as he slowly disengages from my body.

  “I haven’t been to the doctor yet,” I say, pulling my panties back up. I need to clean up and breathe.

  Free wraps his hand around my waist, tugging me against him, forcing my front to press against his side. “I know, and I’m sorry I came inside of you. But you’re mine, Whitley, and if it happens now then that’s okay,” he says keeping his tone gentle, as he strokes my hair.

  “I’m only nineteen,” I explain.

  He grunts, “Kitten, at thirty-seven, I’d like them sooner rather than later. I would be cool with it, and you’ll be okay. Hayden is nineteen and working on number two,” he winks.

  “I’d like to wait a while,” I say, my eyes meeting his dark ones.

  Free nods, his dark eyes searching my own. “I like it when you call me, Mason. I didn’t think I would but fuck me, I really do like it, Kitten,” he says changing the subject.

  Biting the corner of my bottom lip, I smile. “I’m glad you aren’t angry. I wish I would have heard it all from you, but I’m not sorry I found that file,” I admit.

  Free’s hand slides up my back and tangles in my hair before he tugs it back. “I wouldn’t have ever told you. Not ever, Whitley. I’m glad you know too, though. It feels good that it’s all out, and we can move on.”

  Leaning forward, I press my lips against his in a chaste kiss, then back away. “We’re okay, we’re good then?”

  His eyes continue roaming over my face and he gives me a small tip of his lips. “We’re okay, Whitley. We’ll be okay. When I get back from my run, we’ll get everything ironed out the way it should be, the way it should’ve been in the beginning.”

  His arms tighten around me and they force me to lay back down. I’m surrounded by him, his smell and his warmth. I want to ask hi
m what he means by getting everything ironed out to the way it should have always been, but I don’t. I’m loving this quiet moment too much to break it.

  My eyes slowly slide closed as I listen to him breathe. I don’t know what our future holds, or what will happen even as early as tomorrow. However, I feel like I gathered up all of my courage today, I faced Jack, and I had a plan. I’m thankful that I didn’t have to try and go through with any of it, that I didn’t have to go with him, but I still feel good about everything.

  I’ve never felt strong before, never felt courageous, or anything but a shadowed figure against a wall. Today, Jack saw me and informed me that he’d always seen me, that was scary. I decide I want to be seen from now on. I want Free to see me and desire me, not just because I’m his woman to protect but because he wants me, maybe even craves me.

  I curl a little closer to him. My mind has been made up, while he’s away I’m going to work hard on myself, I’m going to do things for me, and for him. I’m not sure exactly what yet, but I’m doing it. Maybe I’ll look for work too, the possibilities are endless because now I’m free.

  The compound is gone, and everyone who was part of it is gone. Soon, the other compounds in the states will be destroyed as well. I’m free, and Mason, he’s free. I know about Gemma and he no longer has to try and hide that part of him. I hope that he’ll open up a little more one day about her, but for now, I’m fine with knowing what I know.

  “Happy you’re safe, Kitten,” he mutters against my hair.

  I snuggle a little deeper against him. “I’m happy we’re both safe.”

  He hums, his lips kissing the top of my head then disappearing. His arms stay tight around me, and it only takes me a few seconds of feeling safe, and loved, to fall asleep. I do, feel loved, too. I know that he loves me, even if we don’t say the words aloud, I know that he does, just as much as I love him.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  FREE

  Whitley is sexy as fuck in her jeans and oversized shirt. I like the fact that she’s still very much simply herself. She doesn’t try to be anything but her, and she’s comfortable in oversized dresses, jeans, and baggy shirts.

  Besides, I also like the fact that nobody really knows what’s beneath those oversized fabrics, but me. It’s not the first time I’ve thought this about her, and it won’t be the last I’m sure, but watching her like this and taking her in just reminds me of it all, of how much I like her.

  “What?” she asks, breaking me from my thoughts.

  I smirk, not voicing my words. With long strides, I make my way across the living room, closing the distance between us. Wrapping one hand around her lower back, and the other around her hip, I dip my chin and kiss her.

  My lips press against hers and I tease the seam of her mouth with my tongue. She moans, parting her lips and I take the opportunity that’s offered. Filling her with my tongue, I squeeze my fingers against her hip, then press my palm against her back as I bring her closer against my chest.

  The new house is empty save for a few random boxes, and the few pieces of furniture that were delivered about an hour ago.

  Sliding my hand from her hip, I quickly unfasten her jeans. My fingers dive beneath her panties, and I cup her hot center. She moans, her hips jerking as her pussy grows slick beneath my touch. Slipping two fingers inside of her tight heat, I press my palm against her clit, slowly breaking the kiss.

  “Ride my hand, show me how much you’re going to miss me when I leave,” I groan.

  Whitley’s pussy clenches around my fingers and I immediately regret not having my dick inside of her right now. She lifts her hands, her fingers gripping my shoulders, her nails digging into my leather cut.

  Lifting my face from her neck, I watch as she throws her head back. She grinds her clit against my palm, her hips rolling and jerking, thrusting for more friction—it’s fucking beautiful.

  The grip she has on my cut, tightens, just as her pussy floods my hand and she cries out. I feel her cunt flutter around my fingers before it clamps down around them. I don’t force her to turn around and bend over so I can fuck her from behind, not like I crave to do. Instead, I wait out her orgasm. When she lifts her head, her eyes glaze over and a smile tugs on her pretty lips as she brushes her mouth against mine.

  “Mason,” she rasps.

  The word should send a cold chill up my spine, but it doesn’t. In fact, it does the exact opposite. I feel, good—happy. My cock presses achingly hard against my jeans, begging for more—preferably being inside of her.

  Slowly, I pull my fingers from between her legs, then I press my lips to hers again in a chaste kiss. Bending slightly, I wrap my hands around her thighs. Picking her up, I carry her into the bedroom. Without curtains on the front windows, I don’t want anyone to be able to see her naked, so christening the rest of house will have to wait until I get back from the states.

  Once we’re in the room, I slowly set her down on her feet. “Your vest won’t fit on that doorknob,” she states as she shimmies her jeans and panties down her legs.

  I’m focused on her naked lower half when her words finally register. “Vest?” I ask toeing my own boots off, then shoving my jeans down my legs.

  “Your leather vest, you wear it every day,” she explains.

  I slide, said vest, off with a chuckle. “It’s called a cut, Kitten.” Turning from her, I toss it onto a box of clothes that hasn’t been unpacked yet.

  “A cut?” she asks.

  Turning back to face her, I smile at the sight of her bared tits. Goddamn, Whitley’s tits are pretty. Lifting my arms behind me, I fist my shirt at the middle of my shoulder blades and tug it off over my head, dropping it to the floor with my pants.

  “On the bed, Kitten, let me see you. I’ll explain the significance of the cut later.”

  She doesn’t hesitate, Whitley crawls onto the freshly made, brand new, bed and lies down on her back, spreading her thighs wide. She bends her knees, placing her feet flat on the mattress. I bite my bottom lip, wrapping my hand around my cock as I squeeze it to try and relieve the ache.

  Releasing my dick, I crawl up the bed to join her. I don’t know how much more teasing I can handle. I need to be inside of her. “How’s your back?” I ask, wishing she were one hundred percent healed, but knowing she isn’t.

  Whitley gives me the softest eyes, and smile before she speaks. “It’s still a little sore,” she admits.

  Turning from her, I make my way into the bathroom and grab my supplies. When I return to the bed, she’s exactly where I left her. Her eyes widen at the items in my hand. I drop what I can to the bed, save for the small bowl filled with warm water. Climbing up the mattress, I set the bowl next to her hip and drop the wash cloth inside.

  “Mason?” she asks.

  Lifting my gaze to hers, I grin. “Want you bare, Whitley.”

  “I can do it myself,” she breathes.

  I shake my head. “I know you can, Kitten. But I’m your man, and I ain’t about to let you. Now quiet, let me shave this sexy as fuck cunt.”

  Placing the now wet, warm cloth against her curls she moans when the heat touches her sensitive center. Picking up the shaving cream, I shake its contents and spray the foam into my palm. Next, I pick up the brand new razor.

  With careful precision, I shave her pussy. If I thought Whitley’s cunt was sexy before, I’m blown completely away by the time I wipe all of the excess shaving cream from her body. I need her. Goddamn, I need to slide into that cunt, watch it stretch around me, fuck it until neither of us can walk.

  I drop all of the shit to the floor. “Hands and knees then, Kitten,” I instruct.

  She doesn’t turn around, immediately. Instead, she rises to her knees and crawls over to me. Her lips press against mine and I grunt as she gives me a sweet as sugar kiss. Then, she moves to the side and slowly sinks down, on her hands and knees, arching her back just the way I like it.

  Moving behind her, I slide my hand up the center of her back, shift
ing her hair to the side so that I can look at her tattoo. Free, stares back at me, and the guilt I thought I would feel from everything that’s happened the past few days, and Whitley knowing the truth about Gemma, it’s not there.

  I feel nothing but goddamn happiness.

  WHITLEY

  When he started this shaving thing, I was so embarrassed, so taken aback that he wanted to do it. Now? I feel so beautiful, not because the hair is gone, I don’t care about that, but because of the attention he’s given me. The way he took complete and utter care of me.

  He’s being gentle. So gentle, and I relish in the moment. When I feel Free’s dick against my opening, my breath hitches with each inch he sinks deeper inside of me. His warm chest presses against my back when he’s completely inside of my body.

  “Lay down, on your stomach, Kitten,” he gently directs. Shifting forward, I do as he asks, and I lay down, turning my face to the side. “Bring your legs together,” he murmurs.

  His chest lifts from my back as I do what he’s requested. His knees press on either side of my thighs, his hands wrapping around my waist and he fucks me slowly. I whimper, it feels so different than what we’ve done before, but I like it so much. He feels even bigger, sliding in and out, his hands spanning my waist and the hair from his legs tickling my outer thighs.

  “You feel so good,” I sigh, closing my eyes.

  He makes a grunting noise behind me, but nothing else. Not that anything needs to be said, he feels amazing. Smooth and warm, filling me full. His hands slide down to my ass and I gasp when he spreads my cheeks apart.

  “I could watch this view, all day, every day until I take my last breath, Kitten,” his voice roughly says.

  His fingers dig into my flesh, leaving marks I’m sure, but it doesn’t matter because it feels that good. I let my entire body relax with an exhaled breath. His fingers grip my skin harder, as his hips begin pumping faster and he slams against me. I grip the sheets next to me, holding on as he speeds up, his soft grunts filling the quiet room. Then he freezes for a split second before he pulls out of me and I feel his release spill onto my back.