The Darkest Flame

by Christina Lee

“No big thing,” he said. Then he picked up an empty box. “I’ll get more longnecks from the back room.”

  When he left, Cherry looked at me regretfully.

  “Just trying to get to know him better,” she mumbled. “He helps out here and is a hard worker. But don’t seem to know anything else about him.”

  I nodded. “Always been quiet. Might take time.”

  “He seems to be okay with you.”

  I stiffened. “What do you mean?”

  “Only that there’s an ease between the two of you,” she said. “Seems like he enjoys working behind that bar.”

  “His family used to own Mitsy’s.” My shoulders unwound. “So he’s used to this kind of environment.”

  “Mitsy’s,” she said, attempting to jog her memory. “Sounds familiar.”

  I inspected the juices on the lower shelf. “There was a fire and his dad died in the blaze.”

  “Shit,” she said, her hands clutching her hips. “I remember that fire.”

  I stood up and grabbed another empty box from beneath the shelf. I headed toward the back room, not really considering the consequences, just wanting to be near Smoke. Fuck, even the thought of not being able to touch him again made my fingers itch.

  I slipped inside, closing the door behind me. He was down on one knee, taking stock of the beer that’d just been delivered yesterday.

  “What’s up?” he asked without looking up. His voice sounded different, almost tentative. Call it my imagination, but maybe our feelings weren’t mutual. Maybe I hadn’t sensed the same hesitation in that bedroom with Melanie. But I sure needed to find out.

  “Hey,” I said, trying to find the words. “What happened last night? You seemed…”

  He stopped shuffling bottles around. “I don’t know. Not my thing.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest and looked back to be sure I had indeed shut the door. “You gonna be honest with me or what?”

  He shrugged. “No fun if I don’t get to touch you in the process.”

  My body went lax and I bit back a groan. “Was thinking the same thing.”

  He looked up at me for the first time, his eyes penetrating, his lips pink and inviting. “Oh yeah?”

  “Fuck yeah,” I said, my frustrating seeping out. “You’re all I can think about anymore.”

  He stood. “You’ve been with two hot girls in one week.”

  I stalked toward him. “You thought I wanted to be with them? Or was I only following your plan?”

  He took a step back as if still uncertain. “But you like women.”

  “So do you.” My voice was tight, challenging. I wanted to pull him into a scorching kiss. Right then and there.

  “What’s your point?” he asked, holding my gaze.

  “You only wanted to watch when you could’ve gotten your rocks off.”

  “Changed my mind.” He huffed out a breath. “She was not the person I was dying to be with.”

  My hand reached for his hip as I stepped into his space. I could feel him tremble. “And who were you dying to be with?”

  He averted his gaze. “You know who.”

  My lips moved toward his ear. “I’d still like to hear you say it.”

  “Fuck,” he grumbled. “You, okay? I think about my tongue in your mouth. My cock in your ass.”

  “I think about those things too, you know,” I said. “Day and night.”

  His throat released a whimper as his fingers grasped my neck. He tugged me forward, his lips sealing our connection. His tongue swept across my lips, and I closed my mouth around it and sucked.

  He groaned and his fingers clenched my ass, pulling me against him. Our stiff cocks ground against each other in a maddeningly good way. We’d both suffer for it later when we had to return to work with raging hard-ons. But I couldn’t even find it in me to care in that moment. That’s how good it felt to finally be touching him. Seemed like an eternity had passed since I last had the chance.

  “What are you doing to me?’ he grunted into my neck.

  I looked over his shoulder, considering the room we were in. Bottles and cans were loaded on a large metal shelf near the wall.

  “Over here,” I said, nudging him behind the display. “Keep quiet.”

  “What the—” He cut off his own words with a groan as I pulled down his zipper and yanked his hard cock out.

  When I got on my knees, his legs nearly buckled. My tongue swiped across the head, where a perfect bead of cum had escaped. “Fuck,” he whispered.

  “This is for having to watch me with other people,” I said, before stuffing him in my mouth all the way down to the root.

  “Ah, hell, that’s—” he mumbled, grabbing onto my hair as my mouth bobbed up and down. His fingers tugged and it hurt like hell but turned me on to no end.

  “I think about bending over for you,” I said, licking his bulk lengthwise. “Even last night, I was so fucking hard because I imagined you getting naked with me.”

  I could taste more pre-come on my tongue. His eyes were closed and his mouth was hanging open in bliss. “Uuuhhh.”

  “Shit, I can’t get you out of my head, and I hate the thought of not being with you again,” I said, taking a long, slow lick around his crown and then up and down each side, around the base, and then back up to the head.

  “I want you so fucking bad,” he growled, his cock twitching like crazy in my hand.

  “Show me how bad,” I said. “Fuck my mouth.”

  Smoke grabbed my head more firmly and thrust his cock inside, the tip hitting the back of my throat. I relaxed my jaw to take him even further as my fingers reached behind him to squeeze his cheeks.

  “The way you talk to me, hell. Even the sound of your voice lights me up like a forest fire every damn time,” he said, his hips driving into my mouth. “I can’t fucking get enough of you.”

  I could feel it. He was going to come. His legs were shaking, and as my fingertip swiped along the crease of his ass, the tang hit my mouth, and I gobbled down every damn drop.

  I kept his cock between my lips, licking and sucking him dry until he begged me to stop. I pulled off, swiped my forearm across my chin, and looked up at him. “Mmmm, now I’ll have the taste of you in my mouth all night.”

  He yanked me to my feet and shoved his tongue down my throat, tasting himself on me. The kiss felt so intimate that I never wanted it to end. It seemed to last forever as we clung to each other, both unwilling to let go.

  When we heard voices in the club’s office next door, Smoke jerked away, pulling his pants up in a flash, as if suddenly remembering the risk we had just taken.

  “Hell, anybody could’ve walked in,” he said, rushing his hands through his hair and returning to the box he was loading. “We can’t keep doing shit like that.”

  “Fuck, I loved it, though,” I said, pulling him back for one more kiss.

  His fingers grazed over my zipper to my painful hard-on. “What about you?”

  “All cool,” I said, backing away. “I only wanted to taste you.”

  Smoke walked out the door with the box of beers he’d previously loaded, while I turned my back, hiding my own erection. I heard chatter from the Disciples’ office and Cherry adjusting the rock music station on the stereo, and it was as if we had been in our own secret world behind that closed door. Still, we couldn’t make a habit of that, not here in the middle of the day.

  We worked until closing while the electricity crackled and coursed between us. And every time Smoke passed by me and stole a discreet glance at the front of my pants, my cock would jerk. “Asshole.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Smoke

  Over at Fish’s clubhouse today, the same dude eyed me from the corner of the room. The difference this time was that he was sitting beside another guy who didn’t even seem to notice. The other member had stared as well when I walked in the room, but his gaze was one of curiosity and maybe apprehension.

  “What’s his deal?” I asked Fish, who was sta
nding beside his second in command.

  “Sawyer?” he asked. “He’s suspicious of you just like you are of him.”

  This was more than skepticism—the dude was totally checking me out. Was he trying to make me feel uncomfortable? Was that his angle? Nah, this was different. Almost like he wanted me to know he was into dudes. Had he guessed something about me? Fuck, all the more reason for me to remain neutral, not show him any of my cards.

  When I looked over at them again, Sawyer had turned away. “What the hell is he suspicious about?”

  “Somebody steering us the wrong way, getting us killed.”

  I nodded in understanding. “But you and Mal go way back, so we all should be cool, right?”

  “No question,” he said, tapping me on the shoulder. “But things have been known to happen. A little suspicion is always good, I say. Keeps everyone honest.”

  I liked that he was being open about this. It made me like him more and trust him a little better. Thing was, I was only a recruit and certainly not privy to his private conversations with Mal.

  I didn’t know the Scorpions’ concrete plan, and maybe I wouldn’t know until right before it happened. I hoped that Mal kept the Disciples totally out of this one. But sometimes other clubs needed backup. I would have been more than happy sitting this one out.

  In the same back room as last visit, Fish pulled up a new video of the members of the Asylum.

  My eyesight fuzzed as I took in the scene. It was footage of my old gang, laughing and smoking weed in some nondescript location. On one of the couches a couple of them were completely strung out, heads lolled back, as needles pricked skin.

  I blinked repeatedly as I was hit with several overwhelming sensations at once. A chill stole across my shoulders, which in another second shifted to prickly heat as sweat dripped down the middle of my back. The same thing my Narcotics Anonymous sponsor said might happen to me over the years. That I might physically miss heroin. Like a carnal craving deep in my gut.

  My throat worked to swallow while my stomach gurgled and then attempted to revolt as I gulped the warm bile back down. One scenario flicked repeatedly through my head like old film footage. Jake rubbing some coke—his drug of choice—on my lips, and then pulling me into a sex-hazed love fest behind closed doors.

  I was thankful Jake wasn’t on the screen in front of me; it might’ve officially sent me over the goddamn cliff.

  I heard Fish’s voice in the background, but I had no clue what he was saying. It was like suffering from heat stroke. As if the beating sun had zapped all of my energy and I could scarcely draw a breath, let alone focus on anything in front of me.

  Fish roughly grabbed my arm. “You okay? If this is too much…”

  “I’m good, just need some water,” I said, coughing. “Feeling a little parched.”

  He snapped his fingers. “Bring him something to drink.”

  Water appeared in front of me, and I downed it in one shot. I took slow breaths in and out of my nose until finally everything jerked back into place. My fingers grasped the table in front of me. My feet were on the ground as I leaned forward in the chair.

  “I’m cool,” I said, avoiding the screen. “Repeat your question.”

  Fish stared at me for a long moment, concern apparent in his eyes, along with hesitation. Finally he looked back up at the video. “They get plastered like that a lot?”

  “Once or twice a week.” I chanced a brave glance at the screen again, which was frozen on a different location and slightly blurred. “Or at least, they used to.”

  “Jesus fuck,” he said, probably staring at the spread of drug paraphernalia on the table in front of the Asylum.

  They were packaging the white powder for storage or shipping. Terrence had rented warehouses to do the dirty work in several unassuming locations. “They’re really into their product, if you know what I mean.”

  “Anyone on the lookout while they’re all getting fucked up?”

  I felt a pang in my chest. He wanted to know if that was the best time to do a raid. Except, a couple of years ago that could’ve been me. And I might’ve ended up dead because I’d been too plastered out of my mind even to help myself.

  “I…” I shook my head. “I don’t know.”

  “Hey, look, I’m not asking you to be responsible for what goes down,” he grunted out. Probably had enough of my cowardly ass right about then. I needed to pull it the fuck together. “You’re only here to give us some insight.”

  “I know that,” I snapped. “It’s just…I used to be one of those idiots sitting there getting high. That’s all I cared about, man. I could’ve gotten my head blown off…if somebody hadn’t saved my ass.”

  His voice softened. “Mal?”

  I stared into his eyes, attempting to find some understanding there. I located it quickly. Either that or he was a good liar. But I didn’t think so. Mal was a good judge of character, wasn’t he?

  “Fuck man, sorry,” I said, sitting up and getting my wits about me. I didn’t owe my old club anything. They had nearly ruined my life. “There were a couple of guys who didn’t partake. Not many, though. But Terrence always used at least one lookout.”

  Fish lightly slapped my shoulder. “Thanks. That’s all I needed to hear.”

  “Yeah, cool.” I stood up and showed myself out the back door.

  * * *

  I rode out to the marina, to the place I always met Felix for patrol.

  I saw Jude and Cory coming off the water with their wakeboards and fishing poles and smiled to myself at how content they looked. Nobody would fuck with them now. Still, I always kept an eye out.

  But I envied their freedom as they held hands and walked toward Jude’s place, where Cory had moved in shortly after their ordeal.

  “Everything cool over at the Scorpions compound?” Felix asked after he motored closer to me. I tore my eyes away from the happy couple and nodded.

  “I’ll take the east end and meet you back here in an hour.”

  “Sounds good.”

  I sped away from the marina toward the freeway entrance and then back around, enjoying the feel of the wind on my back. I heard another motorcycle in the distance and wondered who it might be.

  I didn’t recognize the black insignia on his cut until he was practically on top of me from behind.

  “What the hell you doing on our turf?” I asked a little too roughly as he pulled beside me. God, what the hell had I seen in him all those years ago? He looked tired and worn, like a guy who partied way too hard.

  Jake smirked, the lines around his mouth drawing tight. “Not against the law.”

  I gripped my handlebars. “I know it was you who messed with our bartender. Mal is pissed. So am I. Vaughn’s a good man.”

  He shrugged, but I saw the slight tremor in his eyes. Mal might’ve wanted to turn the club around, but he was still intimidating as hell. And he’d always protect his own, no matter what. “You’ve got no proof.”

  I ignored his denial and asked the bigger question instead. “Why him?”

  “You fucking him?” he asked, his jaw ticking.

  “What?” I scoffed in order to buy some time.

  “You fucking the bartender?” He stared right into my eyes to search for the truth. I couldn’t look away now or he’d spot my deceit.

  “Course not,” I said, gritting my teeth. “Only helping him out with the bar. He’s short on staff and I know the business, remember?”

  Something shifted in his gaze as he seemed to recollect how broken up I’d been about my dad dying in that fire. How vulnerable I’d seemed the first time he approached me about joining his club.

  “Besides,” I said, swiping my mouth against my arm. “He’s not my type.”

  His eyes came alive at that lie. I was trying to throw him off the trail even though it was killing me even to talk to him. I wanted to jump off my bike and pound his skull into the asphalt for messing with the only person who’d made me feel things in a long-ass
time.

  “Maybe he’s your type,” I said. “Why else you got eyes on him?”

  He shook his head. “Not him. You.”

  So he was admitting to it. “What the fuck? It’s been years. I—”

  “I miss having you around. You and your tight ass,” he said, his fingers making a fist on his lap. “Been nobody else like you.”

  I couldn’t help the burst of anger that erupted like a popped blood vessel. “You mean you miss topping me, bossing me around, having somebody to poke with a needle?”

  Somebody who’d become dependent on him. I nearly shuddered at the thought of the man I’d been reduced to because of that small white crystal heated on a spoon and pumped into my veins. I couldn’t go down that road ever again.

  I’d rather die first.

  “Aw, man, you still got hard feelings about that?” His hand reached out, but I backed away from his touch.

  “You helped jump-start my addiction, you bastard.”

  “You would’ve started it with or without me.”

  “Maybe so,” I admitted. “But that’s nothing to build a relationship on.”

  “Relationships are shit anyway,” he said. Maybe he’d forgotten how he’d begged me never to leave his sorry ass. “No way for us to be out in the open, anyway.”

  I shook my head and tried to rid myself of the slimy feeling sneaking down my back just being in the same vicinity as him.

  “I gotta go.” I placed my feet on the pegs, my hands firm on the handlebars.

  “Wait,” he said, and I looked up at him. “So you’re not into the bartender?”

  “Fuck no,” I said. “He likes pussy, anyway.”

  He shook his head as if confirming my suspicions that he’d been watching Vaughn.

  “You like your share of pussy, too,” he said. “But there’s nothing like a good hard cock in your ass.”

  I inhaled a breath. “What the hell do you want from me?”

  He lifted his shoulder in a shrug, like it was that simple. “Just a good fuck for old times’ sake?”

  I shivered at the idea of ever being naked with him again. Over my dead body.