Hell's Flower

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Hell's Flower Page 4

by SL Schiefer


  “Fuck, Angel, if I didn’t already think you were the hottest chick I’ve ever met, this would put you over the edge. Please, please, please tell me I get to drive her. I’m willing to get on my knees and beg you for this. And, that, I can honestly say is a fucking first for me.” I hold my hands out in front of me in the universal sign of begging, hoping she takes mercy on me and lets me behind the wheel of her car.

  Chapter Seven – Raven

  DIDN’T I ALREADY tell him no one touches Kate? Does he think he’s an exception to that? Especially after the way he was at the club?

  “You’re jokin’, right?” I try to suppress the laugh building in my chest, but I know it’s evident on my face.

  “No. I’m not.” His voice comes out rough. Sexy. “I’m letting someone drive my bike so I can take you home. You’re seriously not going to let me drive this? Don’t you trust me?”

  At this, I laugh. I laugh so hard until tears are starting to form in my eyes. My stomach muscles begin to ache with the constant contraction from laughing.

  “What the fuck is so damn funny, Angel?”

  “You! One, you aren’t taking me home. Two, I still don’t understand why the hell you’re here, considering I didn’t call you, and with what happened at the club. Thirdly, I don’t trust you. Trust is fuckin’ earned. And you,” I jab him in the chest with my finger, “haven’t earned shit.”

  I make my way to the driver’s side of Kate and slide into the seat. Starting her up, I rev my baby a few times just to ensure she’s okay before I roll the windows down. I look out the front window and see him staring back at me, his mouth agape.

  “Get your ass in the damn car or I’m leaving you here!” I yell at him. I watch as his brain processes this. I consider leaving his ass, but I’m assuming he has something he wants to talk to me about in order for him to have a few buddies follow him here so one of them can ride one of our vehicles back. He must love that damn bike in order to do that instead of just being dropped off. He could’ve called. I should’ve told him to fuck off, but my curiosity—and my hormones—got the best of me. It takes a few beats but finally, he closes his perfect lips and gets in the passenger seat with a scowl.

  “Finally,” I breathe. “Where am I taking you?” I refuse to look at him. Even when he’s nearly pouting in a parking lot, this man is a rival to Adonis. He’s fucking gorgeous. I have no doubt he could make my fantasies a reality. But I also have a feeling he’s dangerous. A man like this could definitely break my heart.

  “You’re house.” His voice is full of confidence. Even his body language screams sex appeal at me. Dark washed jeans covering strong, muscular thighs. A black tee that’s stretched to the limit of the threads before tearing covers the muscles in his shoulders, chest, and arms. I can practically see he has washboard abs underneath. His short, dark hair is in disarray—almost as if he slept all night and didn’t both even running his fingers through it when he awoke. My eyes finally land on his face, and before I can take in the rest of him, I realize he’s staring right at me.

  “What?” Why the hell is he staring at me? I asked him a question and still haven’t gotten a response.

  “You want some of this?” A sly smile takes over his mouth. God. That mouth. I can imagine that mouth doing so many things to my body.

  “All I want is for you to tell me where to drop your cocky ass off so I can get back to work. Some asshole loser, who probably has a tiny dick, destroyed my shop. Now I have to spend days fixing everything they fucked up so I can get back to our current appointments. I don’t have time for shit with you,” I spit. “Please humor me. Where the fuck you going?”

  “Take me to your shop.”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “No.”

  “Why not? Maybe I can help you out?”

  “All you’d do is get in the way and be a distraction. Not happening.” Even through his glasses I can see him staring at me. It’s almost as if I can feel the gaze of his eyes on me. My nipples grow tight, my belly quakes. A few moments later, my pussy clenches, causing me to rub my thighs together slightly in hopes to relieve a growing need. Goose bumps begin to take over my thighs even though it’s a hot, sticky, humid day.

  Next thing I know, he’s leaning over and I can feel his breath against my neck. My body freezes. Part of me is nervous and wonders why he thinks he can be this close to me after kicking me out of the club. The other part doesn’t want this to end. I’m so turned on right now, I can’t help but wonder what would happen if I let it.

  “Are you turned on right now, Raven?” he whispers in my ear.

  “Whenever I drive Kate I’m turned on,” I shoot back. “Now,” I press my fingertips to his hard chest and push him away from me. “Where. Are. You. Going?”

  “Take a right out of the parking lot,” he instructs. No address, just starts giving directions.

  “You know, I’ve lived here all my life. You can give me an address.”

  “Nah. I’m good,” he shrugs. “I’ll let you know when to turn.”

  Is there a reason why he refuses to tell me where to go? Or is he purposely attempting to be a huge pain in the ass? I’m going with he’s on a mission.

  As we drive in silence, the only sound is the traffic around us. My mind wanders to this morning. The sight of my father, nearly unconscious, lying on his desk will be forever ingrained in my mind. Thankfully, after taking him to the emergency room, I now know it wasn’t as bad as it looked. He was banged up, but not nearly as bad as I thought it would be. A few bruised ribs, a broken nose, concussion, and some bumps and bruises. I know the face and head bleed more which will make an injury appear worse than it is. But seeing one of my last loved ones like that—all logic left me. After a few hours there, I took him home and babied him until he basically kicked me out. Between my hovering and trying to convince him to press charges against whoever did this to him, he apparently had enough. Flat out kicked me out, so I decided to go to the police station on his behalf.

  As I pull into the pharmacy parking lot, Mace groans next to me.

  “What?” I’m growing more and more irritated with him. Why is he even in my car? Why didn’t he just drive himself home again? What does he want?

  “What are you doing? You need tampons or something?”

  “Uh… are you trying to say something? Didn’t think I was being that bitchy toward you,” I quip, rolling my eyes.

  “What? No. I…I—“

  “You can either stay in here or you can come inside. Either way, windows will be up and the doors will be locked,” I tell him as I pull into a vacant parking stall furthest from the door.

  As I get out of the car, I shut my door and wait for him to follow. Once he reluctantly gets out of Kate, I lock the doors and start walking toward the store.

  “No, really. Are you getting tampons?”

  “Even if I were, are you afraid everyone will think they’re for you?” I shoot over my shoulder at him without turning around. I can hear his footsteps behind me as he mutters under his breath. This could be fun after all.

  ***

  As I walk through the aisles at the pharmacy, I tend to keep adding more than necessary to my basket.

  “Really? Pore strips? Why do you need pore strips? Your pores look fine,” Mace tells me. His brows are pinched together with confusion and his voice is an octave higher than normal. He’s sticking to my side like glue. Part of me is loving the closeness of our bodies. I can smell the cologne coming off of his skin—a hint of leather, mint, and grass. It’s a weird combination but it works for him. And apparently it works for me, too, because I can’t stop sniffing.

  “Jazz said they worked, so I figured while I’m here, I might as well pick some up to try.” I shrug and continue down the beauty aisle, browsing the selections. I skip over the makeup because that’s not really my style. I wear it, occasionally, but not very often. I’m more of a tinted moisturizer, tinted Chap Stick and mascara kinda girl. Every once in a
while I’ll add some bronzer. When I do go out with Jazz, she usually forces me to add more gunk to my face. Like I said before—Jazz and I are complete opposites.

  “So why do you need five different hair products? Shampoo and conditioner. I thought that’s all that’s needed to clean hair for chicks.”

  Laughing, I clue him in. “Yes, that’s to clean our hair, but we also have to manage and style it. When you have thick, frizzy hair naturally, it takes a whole helluva lot more than shampoo and conditioner.”

  “Well, now that I have all the beauty lessons I can take for the day, can we please get the fuck outta here?” He sounds desperate. When I turn and look over my shoulder at him, he’s giving me puppy eyes with his bottom lip jutted out just slightly as if he’s begging. His hands are in position like he’s praying.

  “Yeah. I really only did come in here to get aspirin for Dad, anyway,” I laugh.

  When we get to the registers, I see only one is open and there’s a person in front of us. Suddenly, I feel Mace’s body press into me and I hear a growl from behind me. A growl! What the fuck?

  Turning around, I see Mace with his back to me staring at a sexy guy in jeans, black motorcycle boots, a black leather riding vest, and a white tee standing behind us in line. Sunglasses are perched on top of his head, pushing his shoulder length dark hair behind his ears. He’s sexy as sin. Tanned skin, bright blue eyes, and muscles as far as the eye can see. When I finally look down at his hands, I see he has a case of beer and some chips.

  “Is that all you have?” I ask him. My voice comes out a bit jumpy, but really it’s just because he’s so fine. I go forever without ever seeing a drop dead sexy man, and then I have two right next to me.

  “Yep,” he says shortly, his eyes on Mace before his lips lift in a smile and his eyes lock on mine.

  I gulp audibly on the extra spit my nerves are making in my mouth. “Y-you can go ahead of me. Mine might take a while” I offer a smile.

  “Are you sure?” His perfectly thick, dark brow lifts toward his hair line over his right eye.

  Nodding my head, I tell him, “Of course”.

  “Thanks.” As he passes me, I sniff lightly. The aroma of leather, oil, and cinnamon invades my nostrils and I have to fight back a groan. Why do bikers always smell so damn good?

  “My buddies and I are going out tonight. Would you be interested in joining us? You can bring some friends,” he quickly adds. “The more the merrier.”

  “She can’t,” Mace answers for me, his fingers digging deeper into the skin at my hip. He pulls me back slightly until my back is pressed firmly to his front. “She’s busy,” he grinds out.

  “I-wha—“

  “I think the beautiful woman can answer for herself,” he says firmly. His lips press into a firm line as he cocks his head to one side and looks back to me.

  I feel a deep growl rumble against my back from Mace’s chest.

  “Umm, tonight I can’t. Maybe some other time?” I hand him my phone and have him dial his number in. “I’ll call you and we can figure it out. Cool?”

  “Yeah, cool,” he nods. His smile is warm and inviting, but the way he’s looking at Mace is a bit unsettling. Is this a ‘whose dick is bigger’ contest they’re having right now?

  There has to be a reason Mace is being like this. Do they know each other? Or is he just a prime example of a jealous alpha trying to mark his territory? Which, by the way, I am not! I will never be controlled by a man, or anyone, for that matter. I think I need to do something to make that perfectly clear to Mace. Once and for all.

  Chapter Eight – Mace

  THIS MOTHERFUCKER. We may be in neutral territory right now, but I know for a fact he only tried to ask her out because I was standing there. She’d better never go out with him. I’ll fucking chain her to my bed if I have to.

  As soon as we finish checking out and get outside, Raven stops walking and grabs my arm. “Dude. What the fuck was that?”

  “That was someone I hope to never see you around. You don’t want to know what I would do if I ever hear of you with them.”

  “Who exactly is ‘them’ and what makes you think you can order me around?” She has such an attitude. I never thought a girl who would challenge everything I say would be this fucking hot. She thinks she’s going to get away from me. Even knowing who her father is, I’m not backing off. Not again.

  “Well, Angel, they are a bad group of people. You don’t trust me? You don’t much care for me? Hang out with them for a night and see what the fuck will happen to you.” Before she can even utter one syllable, I turn around and continue to make my way over to Kate.

  I wonder why she named her car a girl name. I always refer to my bike as a she but never named her. I would think she would name her car a guy’s name. Whatever floats her boat, I guess.

  And that thought leads me to a whole long list of things she might be into. The thought of having a threesome with her and another girl is number one on that list.

  God, it’s fucking hot outside. Thinking about slamming into Raven while she makes out with another girl is not helping in this heat.

  “Are you just going to stand there, or are you getting in?” my Angel yells. God, but she is feisty.

  “I’m coming.” I was too lost in my thoughts to realize she had already gotten in the car and was about to start it up before she yelled at me.

  When I start walking toward the car again, her melodious laugh carries through the open windows. Any other time I would tell you this laugh is the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard, but right now I think it’s directed at me. So, nope, not hot at all today.

  When I’m in the car, I shut the door behind me and turn in the seat to give her a puzzled look.

  “That’s what she said!” She can barely get those words out of her pretty little mouth because she’s still laughing hysterically.

  I shake my head and say, “C’mon, comedian, start the car and let’s go.” She complies, and then looks at me, waiting for directions, smile still in place. She is going to be the death of me, I just know it.

  “You’re beautiful when you’re scowling at me, but you’re even more breathtaking when you smile. Follow this road, then when you get to the dead end, take a right.” I turn to stare out my side window, but not before I noticed the flush spreading across her neck and face.

  Without another word, she follows my directions. The windows are down, and she kind of drives like a maniac. Almost like she’s attempting to channel Vin Diesel in The Fast and the Furious. I don’t blame her, though; I would be the same way if she let me drive her.

  When we finally make it to the road leading to my house, I tell her to follow this road and take a left at the first stop sign. I should probably tell her where I’m taking her, but I don’t want to freak her out. No good will ever come of a woman losing her shit.

  “Turn into the first drive you come to. Follow the drive and then we’ll have arrived,” I announce.

  “Have arrived? What are you trying to play at? Sophisticated doesn’t look good on you,” she snaps at me.

  “Angel, just drive. When you make it to the house, pull up in front of the garage door.”

  My house comes into view. From the first look, you wouldn’t think a president of an MC would live here. It’s a custom built log house; everything you could ever imagine having is in that house. My garage can rival the best mechanic shop. The kitchen would be the envy of Gordon Ramsey.

  She pulls up to the garage door I point to and parks. We get out of the car, and I stride over to open the panel which allows me to enter the number to open the door. I turn to watch her. I want to see her face when she sees all my shit.

  I press the button to close the garage door behind us. I can see her eyes scanning around the large space, checking everything out.

  “Why did you bring me here?” Her voice suddenly sounds small.

  “We have some shit we need to talk about.” I watch her face for any kind of reaction. She hides her em
otions well.

  “What could we possibly need to talk about?”

  “Let’s go inside. I’ll get you something to drink, and we can sit down and relax.”

  Sighing loudly, she starts to follow me. The door from the garage leads into a huge mudroom with a sink directly to the right. Walking through there, you end up in my kitchen.

  “What—” I don’t get to finish my question.

  “This if your fucking kitchen? Are you hiding a wife somewhere I don’t know about? What the fuck do you need this big of a god damned kitchen for?” She’s almost hysterical in her yelling.

  I smile. “No, no wife. And I built this for the family I hope to have some day.”

  “That sounds suspiciously like a line you would use to get laid.” She narrows her eyes as she says this, dropping the hysterical and going for skeptical.

  I bark out a harsh laugh, “I’ve never had to use lines. But is it working?” I waggle my eyebrows at her suggestively.

  She smiles, although I can see she’s trying to hide it. “Alright, now what do you want to drink?”

  “A water if you have it.” She turns away from me and starts to walk in the direction of the living room. I grab a couple waters from the fridge and follow her.

  I sit down on the couch and pat the spot next to me enthusiastically. She only rolls her eyes at me and sits in a recliner across from me. I toss her the water.

  “So you got me in your house. What is so important to talk to me about that you’re keeping me from cleaning my shop?” She untwists the cap off the bottle, places the opening at her mouth, and tips it up. I watch her neck as she swallows the water. When she takes the bottle away from her mouth, she uses the back of her hand to wipe away the beads of moisture left behind.

  “Earth to Mace.” She snaps her fingers at me.

  “I need you to leave the cops out of what happened to your shop. I’ll help you clean it up, but I just need you to leave it be.”

  “And why would I do that? Wouldn’t you seek justice if someone were to do something to you or one of your members?”

 

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