Torched: A Dark Bad Boy Romance

by Paula Cox

  Detective Joey stands to his feet as the last EMT leaves. “I should be getting to the hospital and checking him in. You know the routine on how to handle that, so have a guy there to check him in. In the meantime, if you decide you want some help from my guys, you give me a call and we’ll work something out.” He brushes past me, our shoulders touching lightly as he goes outside to his unmarked car. The rest of the medical team follows after him. No lights, nothing to indicate they have any work to do. The metal door slams shortly after they’re out of sight, leaving Anna and myself alone again.

  “Where are they taking him? Should I go, or…?” Anna’s inexperience in this type of thing gives her away, but there’s a sweetness to her caring about someone like Ian. A tough girl like her with her guard constantly up doesn’t let many folks in, but the ones she does care about, she seems devoted to.

  I turn back towards her, walking impossibly slow. My body still aches from the earlier fight. “No, you shouldn’t. That’s the dumbest thing you can do right now. You let that guy go. I get why you did it, but you should have let me deal with him.”

  “Deal with him? You really think you were in any condition laying on the floor like that? I know it’s hard to believe, but I am not a killer like you. I don’t just take some guy’s life unless I have to.” Like you. I hate how she says that with such certainty of my past. She has no idea what it’s been like for me, to grow up like this. I love my position in the club, but it means I have to do some pretty damn terrible things from time to time. I’m not proud of that.

  “Whatever,” I growl at her as I come even closer. “That doesn’t matter right now.” I have more pressing things on my mind than that punk that got away. I put my hand out towards her, touching gently at the outside of her elbow. Her skin is as soft as ever, milky and fresh. She doesn’t quiver or shy away from me. If anything, her feet shuffle slightly towards me.

  “Let’s wash your face,” Anna says after a short beat. She takes my hand as she leads me towards her old tattoo booth, the first one in the building. I sit myself down in one of the tattoo chairs, my arms resting on the leather upholstery and my feet up on the rest. It reminds me of the dentist, but less torturous. Anna turns her back to me as she grabs a black microfiber towel from a dolly and places it under the faucet of warm, steaming water.

  “You wash down all your clients?” I ask as she stands over me. Gently, she places a corner to my forehead. The sting of the warm water sets a shooting pain through my temple, but I try to ignore it. I’ve had worse beatings than this. I know that this is the good part when my face is numb and my bones haven’t started to ache or swell. Tomorrow would be hell, but right now couldn’t get any better.

  “No, not exactly,” Anna replies, “I only do this for the ones that I like or the ones that get the crap beat out of them for me.” She blushes as she continues to wipe the dried blood from around the top of my head and through the curls of my hair. “Maybe you should take off your shirt. I see a little stain where you’re probably bleeding.” She looks me over in a way that is anything but innocent.

  I strip down quickly. My skin feels more raw without the t-shirt clinging to the spots where I took the most kicks. Anna looks just as shocked as I am at the sight of all the bruises and slashes. The damage runs deep and she carefully presses that towel into the cuts from the tip of the man’s boot and a spot where the buckle of my pants jammed itself into my skin.

  “Does it hurt?” Anna asks as her hands knead tenderly into the area right around my belt.

  I don’t lie when I respond, “No.” The air has been sucked out of me with every inch she travels down my waist. The cloth has become cold, but her touch makes up for it. My whole body feels as if it is firing up like an oven ready to bake.

  The cloth moves to my side farthest away from her, and her tiny frame has to bend over my torso to reach. I take one look at that ass, round and firm in her black shorts. With her standing on her toes to reach me, I can see the curve of the muscles in her thick thighs slightly jut out. The girl has no bad angles. My hand rests on her backside. When she doesn’t push me away, I get even more adventurous—my fingers tracing the inside line where I can feel the material of her thing thong connect to the inner panel.

  I swear I hear her let out a moan, but she doesn’t give herself away that easily. She continues to wash along the line of my body, rubbing and patting at me like a good little nurse. When she's done, her head swivels up towards me and she asks with a voice heavy and tempting, “Should I go lower?” All I can do is nod and swallow hard.

  She drops the towel to the ground and takes the lever under the chair so that it turns towards her. I go from an incline to sitting up in seconds, but I am directly facing her in time to see her lower herself to her knees. Her hands press my thighs open before reaching for the silver hook of my zipper and, line by line, she pulls it down. My belt comes next, just as slowly, and with one quick motion, she pulls my pants, underwear, socks, and shoes off without any warning.

  I brace myself for what’s coming next. I’m no virgin—far from it. Groupies going down on me is part of the perks of my job. We call them spare chicks, the girls you throw away when you’re done with them. Anna is the opposite of that type. She doesn’t look to me with a smile that says “watch me go…” Instead, she closes her eyes, softens her face, and presses her lips to the tip of my cock, as if she is tasting me, savoring me, like a wine connoisseur at work.

  She takes her time covering the length of my growing, pulsating cock with sweet, soft kisses. I can feel her tongue slither out occasionally, darting for small laps of my skins. Each little hit of her mouth sends ripples down my skin and pops up the hair on the back of my neck. If she’s teasing me, she’s doing a hell of a job getting every cylinder in me to fire on high. It’s taking all of my power not to force that mouth open on my cock.

  All I can do is just sit back and enjoy the show. I’ve been reduced to the man in the chair, and I hate to admit how much I actually love giving over some control to her. This is certainly not my usual way. By now, I’d be ordering her to the ground so I could open those thighs of hers. But foreplay with Anna is like fucking for the first time—everything feels that much more amazing.

  I grasp at the tattoo chair armrests, my fingers digging in the leather. The chair leans back slightly as she finally opens those pink lips around the top of my cock. It’s only a few inches, just enough to feel her teeth pass carefully over my skin, but it’s fucking fireworks. When she bobs up to smile at me, I practically let out a gasp that gives me away, but instead, I force the air inside of me to stay. I’m going to need it if this is what is in store.

  Anna goes in for another inch this time. The middle of her tongue puts pressure on the backside of my dick. Another bit pushes in, my hips doing a little bit of the action. And then another until she practically chokes back the entirety of my long, stiff member. It rests in the moist caverns of her mouth until she shoots back up for air, spiraling her tongue around me. Anna’s lips curl at the top—this is exactly what she wanted.

  Part of me thinks she’ll just stop. Most girls are like that, only going as far enough to show me that they can do it. But Anna is certainly unlike the rest of them. She goes back for more, going farther and faster each time until she becomes a machine bouncing up and down my cock with lips that pull in just enough suction to make me feel as if she’s sucking out all the warmth of my body through that insane mouth of hers.

  Her cheeks fill with my cock while her eyes close softly as if this is nothing to her. Her hands press on the side of my legs, giving her leverage to help her move speedily down me and shoot back up for air. All I can manage to say is her name, “Anna… God… Anna…” Over and over again. My fingers have somehow managed to find their way to her hair, pulling tangles as they go. They drift down to her tank top, and as she rests for a second, I manage to lift it up and over her head. Her black, strapless bra comes next, giving me the first glimpse of those perfect round tit
s with the nickel-sized, pinched nipples.

  I’m close, so close that I know if she goes back down on me with those exposed breasts, I am going to lose it without experiencing all of her. I can’t let that happen. I need to feel her from every angle of that body of hers. My hands hook under her armpits to lift her to stand. Reaching forward, I tug her shorts and panties down so they slide towards her knees. She steps out of them, her lifting legs giving me a brief show of her shaved, peach colored pussy.

  I pull her in close, giving her permission to straddle me. She takes her time, positioning herself just so that she avoids the bruises and the cuts, but I couldn’t care less. I lift my hands towards her head, pulling her forehead so that it touches mine. Our lips brush slightly as I ask her, “Are you ready for this?”

  I don’t let her answer. My hands press her hips down so that she falls directly onto my erect cock, waiting for her landing. The gates open up and a flood of warmth gushes over me. She doesn’t go in all the way on the first try. I’m a big guy working with a petite little body here, but she goes in again, knowing it will only get better the more we work at it. Her flesh opens up itself around me, making space for more. Finally, I feel her pussy take me all in from tip to base, and it’s time for me to take over.

  I close my eyes as I whisper up to her, “I’m going to fuck you now. Hard.”

  My hips fly upwards, bucking her up like a bull to its rider. Anna throws her arms around me, struggling to hold on. Our bodies press as closely as they can with her head resting on my shoulders. My cock digs deeper into that cunt, pushing for something unknown. I hear her cry out something unintelligible. It’s rough, raw, and raging, but she loves it. Eventually, she finds my rhythm with her own hips and ass. With each of my pushes, she dances in a circle around me. As I come out, she moves the opposite way, making her way in a circle around my cock.

  I don’t stop to enjoy it. I want her to follow me, to let me lead her, and she willingly obeys. She keeps up while I pick up the pace to breaking speeds that are timed with my racing heart. I focus on one thing, and one thing only—her cumming. I want to show her what it’s like to give herself to me. I push her forward so that I can see her. Anna’s head dips backwards towards her shoulders, her mouth opens wide, and her hands come together around my neck. Fingers dig into my skin as she cries out frantically, “Mack! I’m... I’m… there…”

  She doesn’t need to finish her thoughts. I can tell by the way her body stops and then sways slightly that she’s experiencing it. Her face is completely flushed from the orgasm, making her look as beautiful as always. She runs her hands through her hair before opening her eyes. Her hips rock forward and then backwards again. This crazy chick wants more, and luckily, it’s my turn now.

  I grab at the back of her thighs, positioning her so that I can drive the rest of the way. Locking her in, my own hips lift off of the chair and directly into her dripping, stretched pussy. She screams out again, her head dipping into my chest. From how she’s reacting, it’s as if she’s never been fucked so hard and as deep as I am taking her. Eventually, her legs wrap around my hips, giving me a better angle to plow right in.

  It’s sinful how good it feels to peel back her layers, to explode right into her like a man unleashed. Every part of me aches with the sensation of knowing she’s mine and that I have full control of every inch of her body from the inside to the out. My spine curls as I struggle to hold on to that feeling. Everything disappears around me like a daze I can’t shake. I know that I am moments away from cumming, so I do the only thing that feels right. I kiss her. My lips push hard against her so that our teeth mesh together. She holds on even tighter than I am.

  My cock releases itself inside of her. Warm and sticky fluids flow out me like lava. They trickle down the side of my cock and past her inner thighs. When I’m finally to let go of our kiss, she looks down at the mess happening between her legs. Smiling, she tries to catch her breath though that wicked, sensual grin that only drives me more crazy. How could she look this good after all that?

  I brush away a strand of fallen blond hair, pressing it behind her ear as gently as I can. I don’t want to wreck this moment in any way. I just want it to be the two of us, sitting alone in our satisfied silence. Out there, hell is breaking loose again, and every moment like this was one to take in slowly. I can only guess what tomorrow is going to bring.

  CHAPTER 12

  Sleeping beside a man like Mack isn’t usually this hard. On a usual night, we would just lay there, our backs facing each other. Some nights, I would be kept up by his loud, drone of a snore. Other nights, I’d crash from the warmth of his body incubating me inside the thin blankets.

  But tonight is anything but normal. All the action in the tattoo shop with Ian and Mack getting beaten to a bloody pulp was enough to set my head reeling, but then there was Mack and me… together. I can’t think of a better word for it than that. It certainly wasn’t making love, though there was something coursing between us that was more than just lust. And I don’t want to call it fucking either. With a guy like Mack, I’d know if I was getting screwed.

  Once we had finished whatever we were doing, we both quickly cleaned up and called in Zeke and the rest of the boys for a briefing. Both of us went over every detail we could come up with regarding the Knight. I struggled to remember just where I shot him. Was it his left or his right? Did I manage to nick his shoulder and potentially strike an artery or was it just his arm dangling like a ragdoll to the side? I wasn’t clear about that.

  All the while they asked me questions, I looked back and forth over to Mack for help, but he was as clueless as I was. While he managed to pick up more details about the guy’s appearance, he couldn’t exactly answer why he was at the shop alone or why he had gone after Ian when he could have just come to our shop instead. Those were questions for when Ian was brought out of the coma the doctors decided to put him in. All the reports I was getting back from his wife and from the few of our guys stationed outside his rooms as guardians were that rest was the only solution. He’d need more time before he could give us answers.

  Finally, when we were done with the interrogation and the replays, Mack decided it was time for us to all go. He doubled up security at the safe house and put a few extra men on the perimeter of the warehouse, restaurant, and shop. It was clear that Mack had thought the attack was his fault. As we walked out of the shop, he whispered to Zeke, “I’m not going to let this happen again. Tell the guys that the tattoo convention is off tomorrow. She’s not showing up with Riley taking this shit up a notch.”

  I can’t help but interject. “What the hell are you talking about, Mack? There’s no way in hell that I am not going to be there tomorrow! We have to do those tattoos.” Nothing can stop me from going through with our plan—especially with Ian’s motionless figure stuck in my brain on some kind of crappy repeat. I have to do this for him and everyone else I love that Riley could be gunning for next.

  Mack saw it differently. His face drops before he walks back towards me, his boots sliding on the gravel. In a low, guttural growl, he whispers, “What I say goes, and I’m telling you that we are not putting your life and the rest of my men’s at risk so you can go do this fucking tattoo convention. It’s not happening.” I can feel the red hot warmth of his anger on my face. His breath brushes against my hair and skin, sending shivers down my spine.

  I bite down hard on the corner of my lip as I steady myself to reply. “This is our best chance to get Riley. If we don’t get closer to him tomorrow, then he’s just going to come after us even harder, especially if I managed to maim or kill his guy after all. You might not be willing to risk everything for that, but I am.” I stare up at him, this giant who rules his land with an iron fist. Who knows what he thinks of me right now—the girl he just had sex with, the girl he can’t save, the girl who’s questioning his judgement.

  “She’s right, Mack.” Zeke intervenes, probably sensing the strange distance between the two of us. “Anna
has a point. This was just a warning shot. Ian was low hanging fruit, and this was probably a distraction for whatever else he’s setting up to do to get her and us back.” He looks back at the closed up tattoo shop with the same look as me: doom.

  Mack paces slightly, walking back and forth from the loaded up truck with that tattoo equipment inside to his bike. Finally, he stops before me and says firmly, “You get yourself killed tomorrow, Anna, and that’s on you. I’m not responsible for being your savior.”

  My mouth goes completely dry as I hoarsely answer, “I never asked you to be.”

  We ride back to my temporary home in silence. At home, it’s more of the same. There’s a million things to be said, but neither of us can let down our guard or pride to open our mouths and talk. Instead, I call my mom and check in on her. It’s been a few days, but the word about Ian’s hospitalization has somehow managed to get back to her. She sounds suspicious as she mentions my new living arrangements and the guys in the rented house down the street from her that seem to drive by frequently. It’s as if she’s connecting dots.

  My phone call to Roxy is much of the same. I want to tell her about my night with Mack. She’d be thrilled. She’s been calling for me to bone him since I first mentioned him. But it seems strange to talk about it as if it was just a normal little event with a guy I was dating. I avoided all sex talk and stuck to facts about her new job and eventually invited her over to check out the shop and grab dinner—girl talk.