BLOOD: An Evil Dead MC Story (The Evil Dead MC Series Book 7)

by Nicole James

  She could feel the change in him. His whole body shifted over her, and she could feel his rock hard erection straining against the front of his jeans as he caged her in with his arms.

  He devoured her mouth, until apparently that wasn’t enough. He broke off the kiss to growl in her ear, “The taste of you just makes me want more.”

  His weight lifted off her. She opened her eyes, rolling her head to look at him, unsure why he was stopping. But he wasn’t. He moved to the edge of the bed, grabbed each pant leg and jerked her bottoms down and off, tossing them mindlessly to the floor. He undid his own and dropped them to the floor, the whole while, his eyes zeroed in on her pink satin and lace panties—panties, she was sure were soaked through.

  Her eyes trailed down his body from his blazing eyes to his muscular arms and chest to his erection standing hard and tall.

  She expected him to put it to immediate use, but apparently he had other ideas. He dragged her legs to the edge of the bed and, dropping to his knees, brought his face to that pink satin, inhaling deeply.

  Their eyes connected as he curled his fingers in the fabric at her hips and drew them down her legs ever so slowly.

  Cat’s hands fisted in the worn coverlet beneath her.

  His palms glided back up the inside of her thighs just as slowly. Their eyes connected as he spread them wide, causing her to suck in a gasp.

  “So pretty,” he murmured and then his mouth found her and her head rolled back again. He sucked and teased and slid the flat of his tongue over her in long strokes as he groaned his appreciation and approval when she writhed and arched beneath him. He tried to pin her thighs to the bed, anchoring her with his big hands, but she was having none of it, she needed to rub against his mouth and that beard of his that was driving her crazy.

  Two fingers slid deep inside her, and he started up on that trigger again while his mouth tormented her clit over and over and over until she was thrashing on the bed. It was too much.

  She tried to shift free of his hold, but he held her fast and tight. “No, baby girl. Want you right where you are.”

  “Oh,” her mouth fell open, her breath catching and holding as he continued stroking, applying deeper pressure inside her and long strokes with his tongue to her clit until she couldn’t hold back, and she exploded into climax.

  She barely had time to sink back into the mattress like a puddle of melted ice cream before his big muscled body and hot skin were over her, pinning her to the bed. One big palm closed around her inner thigh and hiked her leg up. Then that hand grasped his erection, and he teased her already swollen clit with the head in big wet circles, spreading her arousal all over him. He moved down to circle her entrance as his face hovered over hers.

  “You ready for me, pretty baby?”

  She nodded, beyond words. But that wasn’t good enough for him.

  “I’ve been going gentle with you, holding back, but I want to hear you say it.”

  “Please.”

  That was apparently good enough. A second later he thrust inside her, his muscled arms tensing as he flexed his whole body, settling between her thighs.

  His hand slid up the skin of her thigh, pulling her leg up farther.

  “Damn, baby,” he groaned in ecstasy, his eyes falling closed. Then his jaw clenched as he began to move in a slow rhythm.

  It felt like heaven, and her legs naturally wrapped around him, pulling him close and trying to urge him into a faster tempo. He was having none of it. He was determined to set the pace he wanted, although Cat could read in his face what it cost him. Was he holding back for her? Did he think she couldn’t handle anything rougher?

  “Faster,” she pleaded.

  He shook his head. “Gonna go slow. Gonna make this last. Gonna build you up again and watch you come all over my dick, Cat. That okay with you?”

  She could only nod and squeak out, “Okay.”

  He smiled. “Glad we got that cleared up. Now shut up and kiss me.”

  His mouth descended on hers, his tongue sweeping inside, demanding, coaxing, tempting… He kept her guessing, alternatingly between barely-there feather-light kisses and deep and demanding ones that took all she had to give and came back for more.

  The whole while he rode her with long unrelenting thrusts that built in pace slowly over time until she was literally begging him.

  “Please, Blood.”

  His hand moved between them, fingers brushing her clit as he lifted and changed the angle of his strokes until he was nailing her G-Spot with swipe after swipe. She was balanced on the very top of that roller coaster, about to go barreling over at rocket speed.

  She clutched him, crying out his name as the powerful orgasm rolled over her.

  Blood wasn’t far behind. His eyes burned into hers, like a caress, until he got closer to climax. She liked the look of strain on his face and knowing he was as desperate as she was to climax. His thrust began pounding into her and then stilled as every muscle in his body tensed rock solid, his neck tightened, and he gritted his teeth as he shook with a tremor, his release shooting into her.

  “Fuck,” he growled, dropping down on top of her.

  Cat’s body was limp, but she managed to wrap her arms around him, holding him to her as his face dipped to the curve of her neck, his breathing heavy, and she inhaled the scent of the sweat on his skin. Her hands stroked up and down his powerful back.

  He lifted up on his elbows and brushed a soft kiss to her forehead, her eyes, her nose, and mouth. Then he pressed his forehead to hers. “You okay?”

  She smiled. “I’m better than okay.”

  “Good.” He pulled out and dropped to the mattress beside her. She rolled and tucked up against him, immediately missing his body heat. His one arm wrapped around her while his other hand reached down to grab her knee and drag her leg across his thighs, holding it there.

  They lay in the bed listening to the rain falling on the tin roof. Cat cuddled in Blood’s arm, his hot skin pressed to hers. She reveled in the reassuring weight of his arm around her and his hand cupping the back of her knee. She couldn’t help the smile from forming on her lips as she stared at the ceiling.

  Blood traced his fingers over the skin of her back absently. “Got a question.”

  She turned to look at him. “What?”

  “The day we escaped—you putting two holes in that Death Head—what was that about?”

  She got quiet, not sure she should tell him.

  “Babe?”

  “I was pissed.”

  “No shit.”

  “I shouldn’t have done that.”

  “I didn’t say that, Cat. But if there’s shit you’re not telling me, you need to do it now.”

  “Maybe I shouldn’t.”

  “Yeah, you should. We both gotta lay all our cards on the table. Only way this works. As you’ve figured out, I’ve got trust issues.”

  She looked up to catch a small grin on his face. “Will you be angry?”

  He met her eyes. “I don’t know, will I?”

  “Probably.” She tucked back under his arm, and his hand began stroking her hair.

  “Tell me anyway.”

  “When we went to the hospital, the second time…”

  “Yeah. What happened?”

  “When we were leaving, when I’d come back to the parking garage with the supplies…”

  His hand that had been stroking her head, stilled, waiting on her words.

  “He…”

  “He what, Cat?”

  “Tried to rape me.”

  She felt every muscle in his body tense beneath her.

  “Tried or did?”

  “I fought him. He was so strong. He had me pinned against the concrete wall. I didn’t think I’d be able to stop him, but then a group of people came in a van and parked. He put his hand over my mouth and told me to keep quiet. I think he was going to wait for them to leave, hoping they wouldn’t see us, but then more people came, and he gave up. He dragged me back over
to the bike and told me to get on.”

  “He hurt you?”

  She shook her head. “Just scared me.”

  “You telling me everything?”

  She lifted up to look at him. “Yes.”

  He studied her, and his brows rose. “That look he gave you, after you came back… He was gonna try again; he was just biding his time.”

  She nodded.

  “I’m glad you killed the motherfucker. If you hadn’t, I would have.”

  She put her head back down. “Can we not talk about it?”

  “All right. But eventually, sweetheart, you’re gonna need to talk it through. I don’t want you carrying that around, letting it fester and eat at your soul. Understand?”

  She nodded against his chest, and he pressed a kiss to her forehead. They were quiet for a moment, his hand stroking her hair again.

  “Blood?”

  “Hmm?”

  “What did Big John mean when he said you were trying to save Black Jack’s girls? What did you do?”

  “I tried to talk them into leaving, going back home. Sometimes I gave them some money. Not much, just enough to eat or get a bus ticket home.”

  “Did some leave?”

  “I saved a couple.” He stroked her hair. “Most don’t want to listen.”

  “But you tried.”

  “Don’t go makin’ me out to be a hero. I’m not one.”

  She tightened her arms around him, thinking he was hers.

  Blood kissed the top of her head. “Tell me about you and your sister.”

  Her fingers traced one of the tattoos on his chest. “Every girl I grew up with in that east Texas trailer park ended up married or pregnant right out of high school. My mother was an alcoholic, and my father died when I was little. If not for the old couple who owned the diner I worked at, I’d be just another knocked-up teenager going nowhere. Luckily, I had a little encouragement from the right people that there was more in life, that I deserved better, and that all I had to do was believe it. They told me a better life was there for the taking if I wanted it badly enough, and I wanted it more than anything. So, I decided I was going to get us out of that shithole trailer park. I remember telling Holly we’d move somewhere with flowers, somewhere with color, because there was no color where we lived. Everything was a dingy, depressing mud color. So, I picked New Orleans. I’d seen a picture of all the colorful buildings in the French Quarter. I thought it was beautiful, and I thought it was far enough away; I thought we’d be safe here, safe from everything we’d run from.”

  “Hey.” Blood caught her chin and tilted it up so he could meet her eyes. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out that way. But you’re safe now, you hear me? And we’re gonna figure a way to get your sister back, too. I’m not gonna let that son of a bitch think he’s beaten me again.”

  She nodded.

  “Don’t give up. Don’t ever give up, Cat. If we’ve got to stake out the private airfield for flights coming in from Japan Friday, we’ll do it. Understand?”

  She smiled, her lips quivering as her eyes filled with tears. “Thank you for not letting me do this alone.”

  He nodded, put his hand to the back of her head, and pulled it down to his chest. “Get some sleep, babe.”

  “Okay, Boo.”

  His chest rumbled under her head. “You want to poke the bear, keep callin’ me that, sugar.”

  She grinned, but kept quiet. She listened to the sound of his heart beating in her ear, closed her eyes, and let go of the worry for a few hours.

  ***

  She woke hours later. Blood was turned on his side, sleeping. She cuddled against his back, her head in her hand, stroking his arm with her other palm and staring off into space. Then her eyes moved to him, and the realization crystalized in her brain that she was falling in love with this man, flaws and all.

  Chapter Twenty

  Cat awoke to the sun streaming in the window. She rolled her head to the side. Blood lay on his back, his body bare to her gaze. Dear Lord, he was beautiful. Her eyes stopped on his cock. Even in it’s flaccid state, it still reached halfway to his belly button.

  A grin formed on her face as an idea took hold.

  She slid down the bed, taking care not to wake him. Tucking her hair over one shoulder, she lowered her mouth to him, stroking from root to tip along his shaft, and then again, repeating the long lick. Her eyes lifted to find his heated gaze.

  With their eyes locked, she did it again, and felt his dick lengthen and harden under her mouth. She continued teasing and tormenting him until he slid a hand to her hair, guiding her to take him. Grabbing his erection with her hand and stroking, she brought it to her mouth, wrapping her lips around it as a groan escaped his throat. She took him deep in her throat and felt his whole body stiffen.

  Up and down she caressed him—long deep strokes she could tell were really getting to him, and she loved that. She loved the hooded, dark, fathomless eyes glittering back at her when she dared to peek up at him. She loved the way his fist tightened in her hair. She loved the way the muscle worked in his jaw.

  Evidently, she’d awoken the bear, and he’d had enough of the torment. He grabbed her by the arms and dragged her up his body to straddle his hips. His hands went to her waist, and he jerked her down, impaling her on his dick in one thrilling thrust that had her gasping.

  “Good morning, pretty girl.”

  She grinned back at him and winked. “It is now.”

  He huffed out at laugh as his hips thrust up. “You want a ride?”

  She put her hands on his chest and began to rock against him. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  Half an hour later, they were dressed and ready to go. As they were leaving, Cat gathered up the poetry book and bible to take with them.

  “Go wait by the boat,” Blood said. “I’ve got something to do before we leave.”

  She frowned, wondering what he could possibly need to do, but she did as he instructed. She walked down the pier and carefully stepped into the boat, taking up her seat again, the books tucked tight in her lap.

  From her vantage point, she watched as Blood walked inside. The sound of breaking glass carried to her, and she realized he must have been smashing something. The only things she remembered being made of glass in the house had been all those kerosene lamps. He came down the stairs and moved around behind the house, returning with a large rusted gas can. He began splashing gas all along the exterior of the house, finishing with the porch and making a trail of gasoline out into the grass. Tossing the empty can into the littered yard, he stood back and lit the trail.

  Igniting, it flared to life and raced toward the building. Seconds later, the structure was burning, the flames licking up the sides. A trail shot up the stairs and soon the inside was glowing with fire as Cat realized Blood must have soaked the inside with all the kerosene.

  The pier shook under his booted feet as he calmly walked toward her. Untying the boat, he shoved them off and jumped aboard. As they floated backward and he fired up the outboard, Cat watched the blaze grow higher. She could now feel the heat radiating toward them. She understood his need to do this, to destroy the place that held nothing but bad memories for him. She supposed it must be very cathartic.

  Blood idled the motor a moment, watching as the structure was fully engulfed, then he turned them around and headed off, the outboard shooting a plume of spray in the air as they sped away.

  ***

  Fifteen minutes later, Blood took them out of the dense swamp and across the open water. They pulled up to another house—this one built high up on the bank with green lawns and big oak trees around it. A crushed shell drive led up to a road behind it. The dock was well kept, and a retaining wall met the water. The house was lovely—bright white with green shutters and a gallery porch across the entire front, facing the water.

  He tied them up and helped her from the boat.

  “This is my Tante Marie’s.”

  “Tante?”

&n
bsp; “Aunt. Promised I’d stop by. Pierre probably already told her I was coming, so I can’t let her down.”

  “When was the last time you visited?”

  “It’s been years. Better cover your ears. She’s probably gonna cuss me up one side and down the other. Though it’s probably gonna be in French, so you might not understand anyway. She’s a sweet lady, my favorite aunt. She was my mother’s sister.”

  “I see.”

  They walked across the yard and up the stairs onto the porch. Cat glanced over to see white wicker furniture to the side. Blood knocked on the door. A moment later, an older woman with a short gray perm came to the door. She yanked the door open and screamed, her hands going to her cheeks. “Holy Sac-au-lait! Who dat standin’ on my porch? Etienne!”

  Cat noticed she couldn’t have been more than five feet tall and came no higher than Blood’s chest. She was dressed in a pair of leggings painted to look like jeans that hung on her bony legs and knobby knees. A white t-shirt that said Hot to Trot on the front in neon pink and red high-top Nikes completed the outfit.

  Blood stooped down and grabbed her up in his arms, her feet dangling off the floor.

  “Set me down, Son.” When he did, she slugged him in the arm. “Poo-ey! Whass that smell? You stink like gas-leen and wood smoke. What bad bizness you been up to?”

  “Good to see you, too, Tante Marie.” Blood grinned.

  Her hands landed on her hips. “Where you bin all dis time? Why you haven’t visited yer favorite Tante Marie?”

  “Don’t lie, Cher. You knew I was coming.”

  “Course I did. Pierre told his wife, who told Tee-John who told everybody in the damn parish, prob’ly. I heard it from Sylvie at bingo last night. You oughta know, ain’t no keepin’ a secret in the bayou, boy.” Her eyes moved past Blood to Cat. “Heard you had a pretty thing wit you, too. Ow-ee! Look at dat blonde hair. Talk about!”

  “Tante Marie, this is Catherine Randall.”