Melted Iron (Blue Bandits MC Book 3)

by Michelle Woods

  “Good morning,” Roz said quietly, watching him carefully.

  “Morning,” Iron responded, even though he wanted to say so much more to her in that moment, but he couldn’t.

  Iron felt her shift against him and his cock hardened even more than it already was. Roz shifted above him and seemed to realize that he was hard. A blush stole over her face. Iron watched it spread down over her chest wondering how far it went. His need for her hadn’t diminished after taking her last night. He knew that it would likely take years to get her out of his system and even then it might not be enough.

  Iron wanted to tell her that but he couldn’t get it out past the rage that seemed to consume his mind when he thought of her not telling him about Hank. She was his to care for and he had failed because she hadn’t told him she was in trouble. His angry frown must have made Roz nervous because she pulled back from him.

  She moved slightly trying to get off him but he held her in place with his hands on her hips. He leaned forward capturing her mouth and kissing her hard, his tongue aggressive in its possession. She relaxed into him, moaning as she allowed him to ravage her mouth, his hands flexing on her hips pulling her against his hardness.

  Roz pushed up against him. Her legs were spread, making his hardened cock rub over her wet junction. He growled, rolling her beneath him and lining up to thrust inside her, his grip on her hard. She moaned when he released her lips to kiss along her neck and nip the spot he knew turned her on. Her body arched off the bed pressing against his in wild abandonment. Her hand ran over his back and his head exploded with the sensations of her touch, making his next nip harder.

  Iron knew it left a bruise on her delicate skin but he couldn’t seem to stop his aggressive assault on her person as he shoved inside her hot wetness, grunting in satisfaction as he bottomed out inside her. Roz was letting out little gasping sounds as she ran her hands over his back. He felt her nails scratch him again but it only added to his need to possess her in every way possible. He needed to own her.

  He thrust hard, pulling back and doing it again and again, hearing her cries as he took her in a hard, rough glide of his thickened cock inside her. She suddenly wrapped her legs around his hips screaming out in pleasure as her body burst into what must have been an intense orgasm because her eyes rolled back in her head. Iron felt grim satisfaction spreading through him when he felt her body go limp beneath his. He continued to thrust, needing to feel her come around him again.

  Iron felt his orgasm hovering and reached between them to brush his finger over her already sensitive clitoris. He rubbed it gently and it was like touching a live wire. She cried out, her breath leaving her body in a hard bellow while she wiggled, trying to move away.

  “No––n-no, I can–can’t take it,” Roz panted trying to catch her breath but Iron wasn’t about to allow that. He needed this, needed it like he needed to breathe.

  “You can,” he grunted rubbing over her again, feeling the ripples around his cock like fingers caressing him while he was still inside her. Growling his own pleasure, he thrust harder, knowing that the apadravya was rubbing along her passage and bringing her closer to the orgasm he needed so desperately to feel gripping his cock as he came.

  “Iro––n,” Roz screamed, drawing his name out as her body trembled around his, and he knew she was coming again from the increased wetness pouring over him.

  Satisfaction ripped through his chest making him feel smug. He felt his own release burst through him and he almost passed out he came so hard, roaring out her name, unable to hold it back. He slowly came to a stop inside her, looking down into her silvery blue eyes, taking in large huffs of air as he attempted to catch his breath. He felt ravaged, almost broken apart inside, as he slowly pulled his cock free of her. He moved away from her trying to put distance between himself and his mixed emotions.

  “We should get up and start the day. It’s already eleven thirty,” Iron finally said, climbing out of the bed. He headed into the bathroom trying not to look like he was running but he was. The feelings she brought churning up inside him were intense, almost too intense for him to handle.

  Iron glanced back at her, realizing that was a mistake when his cock twitched again. Damn, he had just taken her and he was already hardening again because he was so starved for her. He really needed some space.

  Roz sat up in the bed holding the covers to her chest and she looked adorably satisfied with a hint of shyness. Her hair was wild just the way he liked it, and she wore more than one mark of his possession on her body. He felt fiercely possessive of her and his brain was a savage mix of ownership and fury.

  Iron moved to the sink staring into the mirror for a long moment before he washed his face with cool water. Lifting his toothbrush, he began brushing his teeth but every few seconds his gaze was drawn to the woman on the bed who watched him.

  Pulling his eyes away from Roz, he stared at his hair, absently deciding he needed to shave his head again. That thought in his mind, he wet his head, then lathered it with shaving cream and was picking up the razor he used to shave when her quiet voice stopped him.

  “Don’t,” Roz said, now hovering behind him in the mirror having left the bed.

  “What?” he asked looking at her, his hand still hovering over his head with the razor poised to begin.

  “Don’t shave it, please,” Roz asked.

  Iron watched her for several moments before looking back at his reflection. The reason he had shaved his head was suddenly clearly defined inside him as he watched her in the mirror. He supposed it wasn’t necessary anymore.

  He remembered the feel of her hands running through his hair and the pleasure it brought him when she had done it. He set the razor down on the counter.

  “Okay,” he said, using a towel to wipe the shaving cream off his head. Roz smiled sweetly with a gleam he recognized as satisfaction at the easily given agreement he’d given her and anger burned through him.

  Needing to put some distance between them, he turned around, grabbing hold of the door. “I’m going to shower. Be out in a minute.” His voice was cold, he knew, but at that moment he didn’t give a fuck. He needed to put some space between them so he could deal with the anger. He shut the door, not caring when he saw the hurt look flash across her face because he meant to hurt her. At that moment, it was the only way he knew to protect himself.

  He climbed into the shower, turning on the water. Replaying that flash of hurt he’d seen on Roz’s face, he felt like a dick. He was treating her like he would any other woman and that was wrong because she was Roz.

  Iron couldn’t seem to decide what the fuck to do with all the mixed emotions he was feeling but when he got out of the shower he was going to have to apologize for being a dick to her. That thought made him feel like a pansy-assed idiot because he shouldn’t worry about her feelings. After what she’d done, not trusting him and faking her own death, he really shouldn’t care. He should wash his hands of this whole damned mess, only he couldn’t.

  Washing quickly, he climbed out, grabbing a towel to dry off with while preparing to apologize to Roz for being an ass. He wrapped the towel around his waist when he was done, opening the door and watching as steam billowed out into his bedroom. He looked around, feeling fury explode inside his guts because the room was empty and Roz’s stuff was gone.

  Tossing the towel off, he grabbed his jeans off the floor from the night before, pulling them on quickly because Roz shouldn’t be running through this place without an escort. The men here weren’t the type who always understood protests from a woman they thought was a sweetbutt. They weren’t likely to rape her but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t manhandle her and he wasn’t in the mood to kill anyone today. Messing with a woman was frowned upon but some of them weren’t saints and many of them weren’t safe men to be around.

  Reaper didn’t allow any of the men who were in the club to get away with raping a woman, but as long as they weren’t roughed up or being raped he left the men a
lone. Most women who came here were looking for a good hard fuck or even several and some liked the chase, which meant Roz alone in this clubhouse could get ugly really quick. Grabbing his Glock, he shoved it into his pants. He ripped the door open, anger over her leaving him again burning his throat like acid.

  Iron stormed out the door, a grim look on his face. He stormed down the stairs looking for Roz, hoping like hell he found her before anyone touched her because if they did, they were going to end up dead and fuck the consequences. He was at the foot of the stairs when Rebel called out to him.

  “Looking for your girl?” he asked, a slick grin on his face.

  “Yeah, where is she?” Iron asked, steeling himself for the answer because if she was with another man, he wasn’t sure he would be able to contain his rage whether it was consensual or not.

  “She left about twenty minutes ago. She looked a little pissed too.” Rebel leaned back into the couch taking a long swig of the Jim Beam he was drinking. He grinned widely. “Guess you already ticked her off, huh?”

  “Shut the fuck up and where was she headed?”

  “Home, I guess, or maybe to Sarah’s? I don’t know. Just made sure nobody bothered her and let her leave.” Rebel shrugged.

  Iron wanted to hit the man but it wasn’t his fault that Roz had left and Iron needed to get a grip on his irritation before he went after her. He already needed to apologize for being a dick once, he wasn’t going to add another one to it. Only now she owed him one too because her leaving was childish and he would be damned sure she knew it too. He growled and stormed back up the stairs to his room, frustration eating at him. He slammed his door harder than necessary and put the gun away before heading into the bathroom to take a piss.

  He was standing there watching himself in the mirror feeling resentment slicing through him because she’d left him again when his eyes lit on his hair. He smiled grimly at himself. Grabbing the shaving cream, he spread it over his head. He lifted the razor and proceeded to scrap it over his head.

  Chapter 12

  Roz stood in the hallway of the Blue Bird four days after their night together wondering what the hell she was still doing here. She wasn’t really enjoying her time here anymore. She was in fact being tortured by the idea that Iron was with other women while she was hanging about like a little lost puppy who needed a home instead of heading back to the place where she actually had a life.

  Roz felt a twinge in her chest when she remembered the first time she’d seen Iron after leaving his room that morning. His head had been shaved and he’d looked grim when he’d seen her. She had listened to his clipped apology for being rude but she hadn’t really cared because his shaved head had told her more than his words ever could.

  Roz supposed that she shouldn’t put so much significance on the fact that he had shaved his head, but the fact that she’d asked him not to do it and he had anyway said he didn’t care about her thoughts or feelings.

  At least to her it did.

  It had ripped into her like claws the whole time he was standing there talking to her. When he’d finished his politely worded apology, she’d told him in a light tone, trying to sound nonchalant while her heart bled, that it didn’t matter.

  Iron was fuming when she said that to him. His hands were balled into fists and his nostrils had flared with ire. He then turned away, saying only a clipped ‘good to know’ before he disappeared for two days. Yesterday he had shown back up and she had seen him once since then but she was not feeling very happy about this situation and she was seriously considering leaving here soon to head back to her real life. She felt drained when she thought of returning to Grandyville, almost as if she didn’t have the energy it took to care about anything because she couldn’t be with him.

  Roz knew that the only reason she was still here was that somehow her heart thought he might still care for her. She snorted as that thought slipped through her mind.

  Yeah, that would be a special feat.

  He was as likely to care for her as she was to stop caring about him. Lock, who was supposed to be watching her for Sarah, glanced over at her where she leaned on the wall near one of the private rooms waiting on Sarah to finish talking to Reaper in the office. Reaper was working from here today because some men he didn’t want around Sarah were coming in to have a meeting. Sarah showing up here had earned a dark scowl and a command to leave, which Sarah had brushed off with little concern.

  Roz shifted on the wall noticing that Lock’s brow lifted before he turned away to watch the stage. It should have warned her something was wrong, but she didn’t think anything of the gesture.

  That was until she felt hard hands land on her shoulders making her stiffen, only relaxing slightly when the familiar voice said near her ear, “What the hell are you doing here, Roz?”

  “Waiting on Sarah if it’s any of your business,” Roz snapped back, jerking away from Iron’s hold to turn and look at him with a dark glower.

  “It’s my business all right. Everything you do is my business, Roz.” Iron stepped closer, his hands moving to grab her arms, but she stepped back.

  “Look, I am not in the mood for any of this bullshit today. So kindly take yourself somewhere else so that I don’t have to listen to it,” Roz told him, her heart too sore to stand the constant bombardment of emotions his repeated rejections caused her.

  At first he just stared at her with a dark glare. He stepped forward, crowding her with his body before grabbing her arm, jerking her back into one of the private rooms and pressing her into the wall. “You will listen to me.”

  “Ha, no, I won’t,” she said defiantly.

  “Please,” Iron said, looking at her pleadingly.

  The look tugged at her heartstrings and she couldn’t resist him. Roz stared at him for a long moment before she glanced at his head.

  “Why did you do it?” she asked, her hand slowly running over the smoothness of his bald head. He grimaced and leaned his forehead into hers.

  “I don’t know. I was angry when you left me that morning––I guess that’s why I did it the other day, but originally––well, that was because of you too, I guess,” Iron told her, looking perplexed.

  “What do you mean it was because of me?” Roz asked, wondering how him shaving his head could have had anything to do with her when she hadn’t been around when he had done it.

  “After––” He closed his eyes tightly, trying to tell her what was inside him. To tell her about the part of him that had never given up on them, but failing miserably. “Fuck, after you were gone,” he spat the word gone out because it still hurt him to think about those years when he had thought she was lost to him forever. “I couldn’t stand when other women ran their hands through my hair. It would feel like a betrayal every fucking time a woman touched my hair. It was like they were taking you from me a small piece at a time, and I wasn’t able to stand it. I couldn’t lose what I had left of you, Rozzy. I just couldn’t,” Iron whispered passionately, his green eyes haunted as he tried to express what he was feeling.

  Roz’s breath caught because she couldn’t believe that she had that kind of power over him even after he thought she had died. He hadn’t wanted to lose her and had held on to every little memory with a grip so tight he had shaved his head so that he could remember her. It made tears spring up in her eyes and she felt one slip down her cheek. It didn’t erase the hurt him shaving it a few days ago had caused, but it helped.

  “Don’t do that, babe, you know it tears me apart.” Iron kissed her nose and it didn’t feel like a mockery anymore, it felt like it had always felt before, like a lover’s tender caress. Roz knew in that moment that no matter who he had become, she was still in love with him. He was just Toby with a new name because she loved him just as fiercely as she had when she was eighteen.

  “Iron, I don’t know what to say,” Roz finally said, her voice cracking on the words as a little hiccupping sob left her.

  “Rozzy, you don’t have to say anything. I
just need you to know that I may be screwing us up royally since you came back to me, but I never got over you.” Iron cupped her face, holding her steady as his mouth gently brushed over hers. He pulled back, still watching her with a slightly pained look on his face.

  “Iron,” she whispered, her hands reaching up to hold his cheeks as he was holding hers. “I never let you go either. I looked for you for four years and I have never been with another man because I couldn’t imagine any man holding me except you.”

  Iron eyes lit with a fierce possessiveness and he grinned. “I’m the only man who’s touched you?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she told him, her heart throbbing with the knowledge of what that revealed about her need for him, but she needed Iron to know that he wasn’t alone in this insane need to reconnect with her.

  Iron kissed her then, hard and demanding, his hands burying in her hair as he tilted her head slightly to get a better angle. His touch was heated and his tongue thrust inside her mouth with aggressive need. Roz moaned and was leaning into him when he suddenly pulled back, jerking on her arm.

  “Let’s go back to the clubhouse. I need you, now,” Iron growled.

  “Okay,” Roz said, not caring anymore about the problems that kept them apart. She just needed to be with him and to feel happy again even if it was only for a little while.

  Iron pulled Roz inside the clubhouse a half hour after trapping her in one of the private rooms at the Blue Bird. Even though he knew things weren’t settled between them they were definitely better. He ached, his cock throbbing and heavy in his pants. Only four days had passed since he’d thrust into her honeyed depths, but it felt like it had been years. He was seriously addicted to her sweetness and that was surely asking for trouble.

  Telling her about how he felt after she left him had helped him let go of some of the fury that had scalded him over the past few days. Joy had almost taken him to his knees when Roz told him he was the only man who’d ever touched her. It released something that had been coiled so tight inside him that he could barely stand it.