Burning Ember

by Darby Briar

“Of course I do.”

  “I want to know who he is because I plan to pay back every bit of the pain he’s caused you.”

  My fingers tighten on his wrist. “Mav! It’s done and over. I just want to forget it ever happened.”

  “Which is what you can do after he pays for how he hurt you.”

  “We weren’t even together then.”

  “Doesn’t matter.” He pulls away from me.

  My temper and tongue get the best of me. “What are you going to do? Beat him up? Kill him? You can’t do that. He has cops and powerful people, even judges in his pocket. His father’s a state senator. That’s why I ran instead of going to the cops. And I don’t want you getting locked up because you think you need to avenge my honor.”

  He finds his jeans and yanks them on. “Babe. You’re underestimatin’ me and the powerful people I got in my own pocket. He won’t even see me comin’.”

  I glare up at him with an exasperated look that has him smirking. “Where are you going?”

  He zips up his jeans and buttons them. “I’m gettin’ away from you and your gorgeous body so I can think straight. I want to know what I can about this guy. Where he is. What he does. Where he goes. And who his friends are.”

  He comes back and kisses me, lays me back down, and pulls the covers up to my shoulders. “You stay here and keep my bed warm.”

  As he pulls away, he asks, “You need anything?”

  “Yes.” I grumble, “You to stop being my hero and get back in this bed with me. This is stupid.”

  He laughs. “I plan on gettin’ right back in that bed with you after I make a phone call.”

  I’m starting to see that Mav does have a mercurial personality. His emotions are always passionate and sway depending on where his head’s at. He’s an artist after all, so I probably should have grasped that sooner.

  “You’re not leaving the house are you?”

  “No, Doll. I’ll be right back. Why? Are you gonna miss me?”

  I try but fail to hit him with the pillow as I throw it at him. “No.”

  He chuckles and pulls his phone from his pocket. He hits a few buttons and places it to his ear. He’s almost to the door when he says, “Yeah, I know, but I need you to find someone for me. Warner . . .”

  He turns and looks back at me from the doorway. “Doll, what’s his last name?” We stare at each other and his eyes narrow. If I tell him Warner’s name, he’s going to easily find him and find out about everything else. The fire and how the police are looking for me. I was planning to tell him all of it anyway but he cut me off.

  Just like all the times we’ve stared each other down, he freaking wins. “McTearney.”

  Mav’s jaw clenches and then he relays into the phone, “McTearney. He’s the son of some senator in . . .” Again he pauses and I feel the intensity of his gaze. “Where’s he live, Doll?”

  “California. But there’s something else you need to know.”

  “California.” He holds his hand over the phone. “What else do I need to know?”

  I grip the blanket tighter. What if he doesn’t want me around once he knows the police are looking for me? What if he doesn’t want that kind of attention on the club? I know the HOCs aren’t law-abiding citizens. They move money, or “clean it.” From the little things I’ve heard around the club, they launder it illegally through all their many businesses. I keep the fact that I know this to myself. This is exactly the kind of thing Davis would want to know.

  “The police are looking for me.”

  He gives me a blank expression for a minute. He uncovers the phone and says, “I’ll call you right back.”

  He comes to sit on the edge of the bed. His muscles are tense. “Why are the police lookin’ for you?”

  I look away and bite my lip. He grunts in disapproval and reaches forward to pull my lip from my teeth. He lifts my chin so I’m forced to look at him.

  “Why, Doll? Come on. Don’t make me break out the boxing gloves.” His smirk disarms me and my nervousness fades.

  “You wanted to know how I got the scars.” He nods. “He started to handcuff me when he left the house. He knew I was planning to leave him.”

  Mav’s expression darkens. Once again, he fights a rising tide of anger. I can see in his eyes, Warner is going to be meeting him sometime soon.

  “What does that have to do with the cops lookin’ for you?”

  My gaze drops to the bed. “I burned down his house. I needed time to get out of town. I needed him to think I was still inside while it burned so he didn’t come looking for me right away and drag me back.”

  The silence between us is thick with tension until Mav lifts my face and palms my cheeks. “You’re so fuckin’ strong, Doll. The fact that you can survive all you’ve been through and still be this whole.” His eyes search mine and he shakes his head.” Baby, you’re like a diamond. Precious, fuckin’ beautiful, and unbreakable.”

  “I assure you, I can break. I’ve been so close many times.”

  “Well, we’re not gonna test that theory because I’m not gonna break your heart, and you’re not gonna break mine. And that fucker is never gonna lay eyes on you again. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  The room is pitch black and silent. Something wakes me. It’s not until the hand on my thigh moves up higher that I know what it is.

  Mav’s fingers are long and calloused but they feel oh so good as they move up my skin. He’s spooned against my back and his hot breath washes over my neck, as his hand slides up over my chest and cups my breast. He tweaks my nipple and with the hint of pain, my body is suddenly awake and attuned to him. Turning my face, his lips meet mine. Our kiss is heavy with emotion and unhurried. His other hand moves underneath me until he’s able to curl it around to where the tips of his fingers can stroke my clit.

  I whimper at the first touch. In seconds, he’s working over my mouth, and has me yet again on the brink of an orgasm that’s ready to spill over.

  I moan and start rocking. Mav separates my legs and pulls my thigh over the top of his, spreading me open for him. He moves closer and when I feel his erection at my opening, I whisper his name.

  His first thrusts are torturous, slow, and deep. I reach back and hold on to his neck.

  He breaks our kiss and, in the voice with the power to make my body shudder, he says, “You make the darkness fade and breathe life back into my world.”

  Against my will, my fears tumble out of my mouth. “Mav . . . you can’t say these things to me . . .”

  “Why?”

  “Because you make me feel something I don’t want to feel when you do. My heart opens and lets you in, and I don’t know if I’m ready for that. What if this doesn’t work? What if you change your mind about me? What if something from my past makes you look at me differently?” I squeeze my eyes closed. “The more I let you in, the harder it’s going to be to move on from you.”

  “Is this where you want to be?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then this is where you stay, and it’s my fuckin’ job to make you happy. I see who you are, Doll, and I want all of you. Every fuckin’ piece of you, you’ll give me. I’m not gonna change my mind about that.”

  I turn and kiss him. His thrusts get faster, and his breath and my breaths get heavier. Our moans collide as he strums my clit and slides deep and shallow. Mav leans up and pulls his arm from under me so he can push into the bed and work himself deeper into me, hit the bundle of nerves inside me that puts me on the verge of exploding.

  He backs away slowly from our kiss and smirks down at me. His pace changes.

  “No, faster.”

  He laughs.

  “Luce, give me what I need.”

  He growls and starts fucking me hard, fast, and deep, and doing it so relentlessly like only the devil could do.

  “Fuck. You grip me so tight, Doll. Come for me, babe.”

  He rubs my clit rapidly and it’s my undoing. I cry out and my body goes tight. I have neve
r once seen the Northern Lights, but I’d bet my life that’s what flashes behind my eyelids when my orgasm sweeps over me in a rush of blinding pleasure. It hits me in one big crash and then tapers out in waves.

  Mav shouts and buries himself inside of me as his body releases into mine.

  Afterward, he pulls me into his arms and wraps me up nearly to the point I can’t move.

  I keep thinking, I should hate it. I shouldn’t want to be locked down and caged by another man. But I love it. I feel safe in Mav’s arms. I feel safe and guarded from all the wrong in the world. And maybe in his arms, I am like he says . . . unbreakable.

  I’m amazed that in one day Mav’s destroyed the image of the man I thought he was. He’s revealed he’s so much more than I ever could have hoped for, and he’s shown me that sex is unlike anything I’d ever experienced before. Mind-blowing, beyond intense, and soul-searing deep. I never realized sex could be about pleasure and wanting to be so close to someone, that it consumes you.

  I feel like some precious rare thing he can’t get enough of. And I’ve discovered a side of myself I never knew I had. A passionate side that might easily get addicted to all the wonderful ways he makes my body sing for him.

  Before I drift off, Mav whispers in my ear. “Tell me I’m not alone, Doll. Tell me you feel how good this is too.”

  I wrap my hands over his and snuggle back into him. “I feel it. But it scares me. Like it’s too good to be true.”

  “It’s true, Doll. I’ll prove it.”

  Smoke isn’t always the first warning of a fire.

  EMBER

  I wake to the sound of a low hum, a clank of metal against metal, and a string of curses. But where they’re coming from or why is too much for my sleep addled brain to handle.

  What I do know is that the warm body that blanketed mine throughout the night is gone, and the black, silky sheets surrounding me are empty. I’m alone although a familiar musky scent lingers on my pillow. I move and nuzzle closer, drawn by the smell, and as I do, a pinch of pain zips through my core.

  In quick flashes, I relive last night.

  Mav kneeling, kissing my knees. His patience and willingness to wait until I was ready. Every sweet word that left his mouth and how they tore away at the protective wall I’d been trying to hide behind.

  God . . . he definitely fulfilled his promise.

  He took me over and over, until neither of us could move. Evident by the delicious soreness rioting though my muscles, and the wetness still residing between my thighs.

  A smile tugs at the corner of my lips. I touch them and find they’re puffy, swollen from overuse.

  The knowledge that we had unprotected sex threatens to send me into a tailspin of stress, and honestly for a second, it does. I have no idea what I would do if I also had to protect and support a child. I need to get the day after pill from the doctor today and ask Mav to use protection from now on. It was stupid. Irresponsible of us both. I won’t deny it. But hell, it felt good to just do what felt right. To let go and for once simply enjoy myself.

  After rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I sit up, and groan in protest of my aching body. The room looks different in the light of day. But it fits Mav to a T. Architectural art on the walls, a matching coffee table, and a black leather couch. The dressers and end tables are the same sleek style as the bed.

  I hear more banging coming from inside the house, and this time when I breathe in, I smell something mouthwatering. Mmmm . . . bacon.

  Standing from the bed, I see a set of clothes laid out for me. Drawstring pants and a T-shirt. In the bathroom, I find a new toothbrush waiting on the counter, and a hairbrush. But looking at my wild hair, I affirm that yes, a quick shower is a necessity. Otherwise, there is no way I’ll be able to tame this lion mane.

  I’m laughing a while later as I leave the bathroom. The drawstring pants are about eight inches too long and make me look like Dopey. I’m pretty sure if I attempt to walk down the stairs in them, I’ll fall, so I exchange them for my red shorts.

  The heavy weight on my thigh has me instantly pulling the phone Mav gave me from my pocket. Four missed calls. Two texts. One missed call from Bethany, one from Lily, and two from Sundown.

  A relieved breath whooshes out of me. Every time I’ve tried to reach Sundown, my calls have gone unanswered. And her damn mailbox is full . . . again. Something I’m always on her case to fix. I immediately dial her number back, but it only rings and then tells me her mailbox is still full. I try again and get the same result.

  I read the texts.

  Bethany: I’m sorry about the party.

  Bethany: I heard you and Mav worked things out. So happy for you. Lily is covering my shift at the bar so I can spend the day with the kids, and you can spend yours with Mr. Fire and Ice. You can thank us later by giving us details.

  I type back a reply.

  Me: Thank you. You guys didn’t have to do that. Are you sure?

  Her reply comes in seconds.

  Bethany: Yes. Now, go lock that man down if you haven’t already.

  Laughing, I type.

  Me: Okay . . . okay . . . sheesh.

  Then I quickly text Sunny.

  Me: Call this number ASAP. -M

  I pocket the phone and leave the room. I keep thinking she has to guess it could be me, but she does get a lot of calls from guys too, so she’s leery of private numbers.

  The moment I get to the top of the stairs, I nearly jump out of my skin. A high pitch wail pierces the air, quiets, and goes off again and again. It’s not until I’m halfway to the first floor when I see smoke fogging the air in the kitchen.

  I hurry in and see Mav standing by the island with his back to the stove. He’s waving a towel overhead and trying to fan smoke toward the open back door and the opened windows. Behind him smoke rises from a pan of charcoaled bacon that’s also popping with grease.

  I have to shout to be heard. “Ummm . . .” I point at the stove. “Are you trying to start a grease fire?”

  Mav’s head snaps toward me. Discomfort flashes over his amber eyes and he lets out a pent up breath. He drops the towel to his side, says something, but I can’t make it out. Maybe he couldn’t hear me either.

  I start laughing as he strides past me with flushed cheeks and frustration evident in his posture. He pulls a chair from the dining room and gets on top of it. After cracking open the fire alarm, he takes out the batteries. Only the scream of the alarm keeps on going. He says something. I’m guessing another curse as he heads into the front room.

  A few minutes later when all of the alarms are finally quiet, he comes back into the kitchen.

  He strides toward me wearing a white V-neck shirt and worn jeans, and he’s barefoot. I find that sexy as hell, because damn . . . he has nice feet.

  “What exactly are you trying to do? Burn your new house down?” I can barely contain the amusement I’m holding back. “You know, that’s not really my thing . . .”

  His mouth twitches and his frustration falls away. “I was tryin’ to make you breakfast in bed. Heard it was one of the top ten things you do when you fuck up with your girlfriend.”

  My smile escapes and is now irrepressible. “Who told you that?”

  “Google, he deadpans.

  “Hmmm . . .” I quirk an eyebrow. “Girlfriend?”

  His mouth twitches as he slides his hands on my hips. “Old lady then.”

  Old lady?

  My chest constricts, and I’m not sure if it’s excitement or nervousness that has me freaking out. I bite my lip and twist out of his hold. For a distraction, I survey the disaster that is his new kitchen. The burnt food and messy dishes. The eggs aren’t even yellow anymore—more like a blackened brown—and don’t even get me started on the hash browns.

  “Wow . . . so . . . you don’t really cook much do you?”

  He laughs and pulls me back into him. “I was tryin’. But no, usually I eat somethin’ premade or get take out.”

  “You should stick to
that.”

  He growls playfully and tickles my sides.

  I’m gasp and try to wiggle away from him. “Stop. Stop,” I say between laughs. “I was just kidding.”

  He pushes my hair away from my neck and starts kissing me there. Nibbling on my ear, he whispers, “I wanted to do somethin’ nice for you.”

  I melt a little and moan. “Hmmm . . . this is nice.”

  “You look fuckin’ hot in my shirt, Doll.”

  “I like it. It smells like you.”

  He nuzzles my neck. “You like the way I smell?” When I nod, he says, “I like the way you smell too. Drives me crazy.” To emphasize his words he presses his long, hard body into mine. His cock is thick and ready. As ready as it was when he took me last night.

  Then he says, “Teach me.”

  I look over at him as he rests his chin on my shoulder. “Teach you what?”

  He nods toward the stove. “Teach me how to cook you breakfast. I did my teachin’ last night,” he winks, “now it’s your turn.”

  My eyes narrow on him and fall to his delicious mouth I want to kiss, then back up to his heated eyes. “Really? You want to learn how to cook?”

  He grins. “Yeah. Why not.”

  Scanning the kitchen one more time, I say, “Do you have more eggs? Hash browns? Bacon?”

  He smiles and heads to the fridge, where he begins to pull out more food. “I got a boat load of shit this mornin’. Went out while you were sleepin’. And I was starvin’ so I grabbed enough to feed an army.”

  “Wow, you don’t say.” I eye the smorgasbord of food he places on the counter. “What time did you get up?”

  “Six.” He leans on his elbows over the counter and his grin turns mischievous. “Now ask me what time I got out of bed.”

  I roll my lips once between my teeth and let my eyes roam over his face. He shaved this morning and he has yet another bruise. It’s on his right cheek where Dozer clocked him. He’s still sexy as hell though.

  “What time did you get out of bed?”

  “Seven thirty.”

  “Do I want to know what you did for that hour and a half?”

  He laughs and studies my face. “Probably not.” He rubs his index finger over his mouth. “You’re a pretty deep sleeper though, huh? I mean even at the clubhouse, it took me a while to get you up, but I thought if I . . .” His smile is wicked.