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

by Hayley Faiman

  My stomach flips and clenches. I don’t want to think the worst, but that’s all I can think. After our weekend together, I feel like we’re at a new level, an amazing level, but we are still extremely new and I’m very much self-conscious.

  I let out a sigh and decide to bite the bullet and call him myself. The phone rings a few times and then I hear some rustling around, and he curses before he says, hello.

  “Mason?” I ask, deciding to use his real name instead of his other name.

  He clears his throat and I hear movement. “Hey, Kitten. What time is it?”

  “It’s morning, I just didn’t hear from you last night and I… I got a little worried,” I admit.

  “It was a long night, Kitten. I’m safe and sound. Working all afternoon, and probably into the evening. I’m trying to get all this shit done here so I can be on my way home to you.”

  My heart beats a little faster at his admission. I can’t hide my smile; my teeth sink into the corner of my bottom lip as I think about his words.

  Home to me.

  That’s exactly where I want him to be, too.

  I miss him.

  I didn’t know it was possible to miss him as much as I do, but I really do. I miss his body next to mine when I sleep, and the way he feels wrapped around me. He’s only been gone a few days and I feel like I’m having withdrawals—Mason withdrawals.

  “Okay, you’ll let me know when you’re on your way home?” I ask, sounding like the addict that I am.

  He grunts, “Yeah, Kitten, why?”

  “Just miss you,” I sigh.

  He laughs softly. “What’re you wearing right now?”

  My face feels hot, and I know my cheeks are probably bright red from his question. Looking down I snort, shaking my head. “A dress and I’m barefoot,” I whisper.

  “Go to the bed, Kitten, lay down,” he instructs.

  My stomach clenches, but in a different way from earlier, now instead of nervousness, it’s with excitement. I hurry back into the bedroom, closing and locking the door behind me, for whatever strange reason.

  Making my way toward the bed, I quickly crawl on top and sit down, with my back against the headboard. My entire body feels like a big ball of nerves, and I suck in a deep breath before I let it out.

  “I’m on the bed,” I breathe.

  He chuckles, his voice deep, raspy and sexy with sleep. “I want you to slip your fingers inside of your soft panties, and play with that sexy tight pussy for me, Kitten.”

  “Free,” I exhale.

  My fingers, not holding the phone, do as he instructs. I hiss when they slide through my already damp center. My eyes slide closed and I let out a sigh as I circle my clit.

  “Mmm,” Mason hums. “Are you wet for me, Whitley?” he asks.

  My embarrassment flies out of the window with each stroke my fingers make. “I am, so wet, Free. God, I wish you were here,” I moan.

  Lifting my hips, I push two of my fingers inside of me and press my palm against my clit, just like he does. Except, it doesn’t feel nearly as good as when he touches me. My hands aren’t as rough as his, my fingers aren’t as big, and I definitely do not feel as stretched, or full, as when his fingers are inside of me.

  “Goddamn, Kitten. Your sweet noises are about to make me come,” he groans.

  I gasp, lifting my head, because I’m close, so close. I can actually hear my fingers slipping in and out of me, the wet noises they make are almost embarrassing, but I don’t care.

  “Kitten, I want to lick that gorgeous little clit, taste your pussy, and then drink your cum. Fuck, Whitley, I miss you,” he groans. Mason must realize I’m close because his words become filthier. “Tell me, is that pussy clenching around your slender fingers, are you close?”

  I sob, the sound unnatural, but I don’t care. I am close, so damn close. My breathing comes out in pants, and I’m unable to speak. My fingers work my pussy, my hips jerk, and I grind my clit against my palm.

  “Pinch that pretty little clit, Kitten. Come on now, come all over yourself,” he huskily demands.

  Moving my hand, I whimper, but then pinch my clit like he says. I cry out, but I don’t come. I’m almost violently, unstable, on the edge and needing release.

  “Rub your clit, then pinch, then repeat, Whitley. Come on, Kitten, you can do it. Show me just how good you can be, for me,” he urges.

  I do what he says, and by the third repetitive pinch, I cry out as my entire body tightens. My pussy pulses, looking for something to cling to, but he’s not here so it’s empty, begging to be filled. I lie back on the bed, breathing heavily as I hold the phone to my ear, just in time to hear him grunt through his own panting breaths.

  “Goddamn, hearing you come is hot as fuck, Kitten,” he murmurs into the phone.

  I sigh, rolling over onto my side. “I wish you were here,” I say, again.

  “I know, but Christ, you give good phone sex,” he chuckles.

  I smile to myself because I had no clue what I was doing. I was just following his lead, but I’m glad that I could make him happy. It’s all I want for us, to find our little slice of happiness. After everything we’ve had thrown at us in life, I think that we deserve it, together.

  “I had no idea what I was doing,” I admit, my face feeling hot all over again.

  He hums, and I hear a knock on his door. “You doing anything today?” he asks. I hear clothes rustling around and I can even hear his footsteps.

  “Not really. When you get back, I definitely need a job or something, I’m bored, Mason,” I announce.

  He laughs. “Okay, Kitten. Hey, I gotta go, see you as soon as I can,” he mutters before ending the call.

  I don’t even get an opportunity to respond.

  Frowning, I rearrange my dress, then stand and walk over to our bedroom window. Our little street is quiet, and I like that it almost feels as if we’re alone out here at the end of the block. I glance to the right and can see, Ice’s pickup in the driveway. I don’t know who watches me at night, I’ve never seen them and I’m kind of glad. I’m still not completely comfortable around men, especially strangers.

  Inhaling a deep breath, I leave the bedroom and head toward the front door. Opening it, I turn my head and see Ice’s profile. “I’m going to the backyard for a while, want to join me?” I ask.

  We’ve become friends, me and Ice. Well as much of friends as we can be. He’s still extremely quiet, but he’ll talk a little about Traci with me, and I like that. “Sure, babe.”

  He follows me into the house, walking quietly behind me. Once we’re out on the back patio, I sit down and stretch my legs out so that the sun can hopefully tan them.

  “Do more good if you were in a bikini or some shit,” Ice mutters.

  Slowly, he sits down next to me, keeping his jean-clad knees bent and his feet flat on the ground. “I know, but I’ve never really been one for swimsuits, I just wanted a little sun,” I shrug.

  “You and Free, opposite as fuck,” he announces. “Never thought he’d brand a woman quite like you.”

  Turning my head, I tilt it to the side and look at him in confusion. “A woman quite like me?” I ask when he doesn’t expand.

  “Every woman I’ve ever seen Free with, has been, for lack of a better word a whore,” he shrugs. “Sometime’s he’d fuck bitches who just happen to be partying at the club. But every single woman I’ve ever seen him with wears her clothes two sizes too small, and tight, showing off pretty much everything. I thought that was just his type. Never seen him with anyone remotely sweet lookin’ like you.”

  “Sweet looking?”

  Ice stares at me as if I’m the idiot in this conversation. “Babe, you don’t show off what I think is probably a bangin’ bod you got under there. Everything is oversized, loose, and designed to hide everything a man would want to look at. You’re a pretty young thing, why hide all that shit? You don’t live on the compound anymore,” he says.

  Pressing my lips together, I look down
at my legs. “Hey, I didn’t mean to upset you,” he mutters, bumping my shoulder with his own.

  Shaking my head, I look back up at him. “I’m not upset. You aren’t wrong. I hide everything, this is the way I dressed for the past three years, and it’s comfortable to me. Free says he likes it, but…” I shrug.

  “I didn’t mean to make you feel self-conscious, it was just an observation. Hell, if anyone knew I was into Traci, they’d have shit to say about that, too.”

  “Like what? Traci is fantastic,” I defensively announce.

  He winks. “I know she is, but she’s quite a bit older than I am,” he shrugs.

  “Is that why you haven’t claimed her?” I ask.

  He leans back, placing his palms on the concrete. “Maybe. I don’t know. I like her, but you know we haven’t defined anything. I like the way shit is, and she does too. She wants more, we’ll talk.”

  I laugh at his obliviousness. “You know, she wants more. Just FYI.” He turns to me blinking, but he doesn’t say anything.

  “You think that Free and I would match better if I dressed more like the other women,” I point out. I don’t pose it as a question, but I guess that it is, just that.

  Ice sighs. “I shouldn’t have said anything. Your relationship is none of my business. You’re an Old Lady, and that’s all I need to know,” he mumbles.

  I laugh, shaking my head. “Too late, Ice. You already said something,” I smile. “You aren’t wrong though. I mean I’m not a clubgirl, obviously. But I don’t think I look like the other Old Ladies either.”

  We don’t say anything else, but my mind is working overtime. I wonder if I could surprise Free, if I could change my wardrobe up a bit, and if he would like it? He’s said he prefers the way I dress, but I’m not sure if he really means that, or if he’s just saying it because he knows I’m not comfortable in tight-fitting clothes.

  I let out a breath, allowing the sun to warm my legs. I have some serious thinking to do, and maybe some shopping to do. I wouldn’t even know where to start, or what would look good on me. I definitely don’t want to look like one of those girls that are trying too hard, and I really don’t want to look trashy. I want to look like me, but maybe a little sexier.

  Lying back against the concrete, I look at the ceiling of the porch. One of these days I’ll figure myself out. One of these days I’ll be comfortable not only in my own skin but hopefully with Mason as well. I think I’m getting closer to being comfortable with him.

  I feel like we know one another better and learning about Gemma was the wall that needed to be broken down between us. I think the rest of the stuff is just going to take time.

  Every moment, every day, and every second I have a feeling is going to be an experience when it comes to Mason Kelly. I’m excited for the wild ride, but I cannot be scared, and I cannot hide.

  That’s what I do behind my clothes, I hide, in plain sight. It’s part of the old me, and I don’t want to do that anymore. I don’t want to be her anymore. I do not want to be Whitley from the compound.

  I want to be Whitley, Free’s Old Lady.

  Nodding to myself, I make the decision. I’m going to give myself a mini-makeover. Hopefully it’s not an epic failure, but maybe, just maybe it might be a success and by the end of it, I might discover who I really am under this girl who is always trying to fade away into the shadows.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  FREE

  This week has felt like an entire month. I wonder if this is how the other men feel when they’re on runs away from their women, or maybe I’m just a special kind of pussy. I scrub my hand over my face as I make my way toward the shed. The bitch from the strip club still isn’t talking, and I want to know what the fuck her deal was.

  We couldn’t get anything from her last night, so we’re trying again today. If she would have told us last night, odds are whatever her fate is would have been dealt with swiftly. Now, that shit has changed. She’s holding out, and hiding so nothing will be quick, not anymore.

  Grizz is standing outside of the shed as I make my way toward it. He lifts his chin. “Others are inside, they’re waiting for you to get started,” he murmurs.

  I don’t tell him that I’m late because I was getting off to another phone sex session, with Whitley. This time we FaceTimed, and I got to see that hot cunt through my phone screen. She may have come into my life when I never expected or thought I wanted her, but goddamn is she the perfect one for me.

  The shed is quiet when I enter, Grizz following close behind and I ignore everyone in the room but the stripper who is hanging from hooks in the ceiling.

  It doesn’t surprise me since we have the same system, but maybe it should. It is a woman up there. Not some strong as fuck man, but a woman. Then I remember just how we treated that nurse, who was going to fuck with Ginger and Evalyn, and I snort, maybe we are the same breed of men.

  “You ready to talk?” Fury asks, his back against a wall. He has one leg propped up, and his eyes are pointed on her.

  Shifting my gaze back to the girl, I watch and wait. She’s dirty, makeup having streamed down her face when she was first taken and cried, her attempt to get out of being brought here. She already knows her fate, she’ll never make it out alive. It’s up to her on how painful the process is going to be.

  “Why do you want to go to Canada so badly?” I ask, for what feels like the millionth time between last night and this morning.

  Her eyes narrow on me and she clenches her jaw. She really does remind me of the nurse we held a while back. That bitch took more than any man I’ve ever seen, and only after weeks of daily abuse did she finally break, though I don’t think she ever did completely.

  Tipping my head to the side, I scan over her face and body, looking for any kind of clue that she could be from a compound.

  “How long have you been here?” Fury asks.

  Shifting my gaze over to him, I lift my chin. He must have the same idea as me. It’s all too weird, too convenient. And how did she know about DD going down to Texas? None of this makes any fucking sense. Plus, I want to know who the fuck she was looking at behind her shoulder.

  “A month,” Sniper announces. He has his massive arms crossed over his even bigger chest, the fucker is built like a goddamn tank.

  Walking up to her, I look at her in the eyes, they’re bloodshot, and her naked body is shivering. “What compound are you from?” I ask.

  She shakes her head, her bottom lip trembling. “Texas,” she rasps. My eyes narrow, and I turn to look at Fury. He looks, well, he looks fucking furious. “They heard about the possibility of a raid. I was sent to infiltrate,” she admits.

  “Who were you communicating with?” I demand, my voice harsh and louder than I intend.

  She flinches, but my stomach flips at the thought of anyone infiltrating us. Not just because my brothers would be in harm’s way, but that means my woman would be too. The last thing I want to do is bring more shit down on her, I think she’s had e-fucking-nough in this life.

  She clears her throat and whispers. “My husband.” Her eyes meet mine and she gives me what I can only describe as an evil smile. “He knows who your woman is. She’s next, he’ll be there before you and he’s going to breed her like the bought whore she is,” she sneers.

  I stumble backward, her target struck, and obvious shock mars my features. She smirks at me, then her mouth opens, and no sound comes out before she slumps forward. “Goddamn it Johnny,” Fury shouts.

  Dirty Johnny steps out from behind her, a bloodied knife in his hand. “I got sick of this bitch about five minutes after she started talking last night. We got all we needed,” he shrugs.

  “Except the name of the guy,” Fury deadpans.

  Grizz chuckles. “The husband is long gone. No way did he watch her get hauled off last night and not book it the fuck out of town. He’s probably a bartender or some shit at the bar, we’ll know when he doesn’t show up to work tonight.”

  “Fuck,”
Fury curses. “I’m sick and fucking tired of this shit. I’m gonna call Snake, see what he wants you to do, then I’m calling my Pops,” he mutters to himself.

  I watch as he turns around, digging his phone out of his pocket. I’m frozen in my spot, feeling the urge to call, Whitley, but knowing just a half an hour ago, she was perfectly safe. Lifting my hand, I scrub it over my face.

  “Go back up to Canada, do that drop-off, then head home. You got enough shit on your plate. We’ll work stateside on whatever we need to,” Sniper announces.

  I turn to him in surprise. “Yeah?”

  “Be with your woman. Make sure she’s protected, nobody would expect anything less.”

  Fury stomps back into the shed, and we all watch him. “Get to Regina. Drop that shit off and get home. Snake expects you back in a couple of days. He’s putting two extra men on your woman and contemplating lockdown, again. We’ll handle everything here,” he says. “Texas has been informed that this bitch was out causing problems, they’re moving in on the compound in a couple of days. Montana and Wyoming are next. This entire nightmare will be done before we know it. Thank fuck,” he sighs.

  “No shit,” I grumble.

  Heading toward the door, I stop and turn back to my brothers, avoiding the dead body that hangs in the middle of the room. They’re all worried, every single one of them, and it’s obviously worn on their faces, as I’m sure my worry is worn just the same.

  “’Til next time,” I call out lifting two fingers in the air.

  “Wanna meet your woman next time, bring her down,” Grizz calls out.

  Fury and Dirty Johnny, murmur agreements and I grunt, lifting my chin toward them. Turning around I jog back to the clubhouse as quickly as possible. I need to get my shit and get back to Whitley. Tugging my phone out of my pocket, I call her as I throw my shit in my bag.

  “Hello?” she sounds confused, and I guess she should be it hasn’t been too long since I watched her come for me.

  “I’m headed home, Kitten. I should be there in a couple days. You’re going to have an extra couple of guards, just as a precaution. You probably won’t even notice them, but I wanted to let you know,” I explain.