Burning Ember

by Darby Briar

  I throw her a sardonic look saying, ‘yeah, that is so not going to work.’

  I’ve only danced at home with my mom, Sundown, and Will. It’s kind of a family tradition. But we always danced at home, behind closed doors, not anywhere anyone else could see. At least, I haven’t.

  When I was younger, my mom had this mix tape, and often, out of the blue, she’d put it on and crank up the radio. It opened with “Peace Train” by Cat Stevens, followed by similar seventies hits. We’d dance around the house for hours. Sometimes my mom would stop the tape before the last song played and those were the best days. Other times she’d let it play through, and when, “Maggie May” by Rod Stewart came on she’d lose her steam, close her eyes, sing softly, and eventually start to cry. After it ended, she’d leave us to retreat alone into her room.

  I asked Sundown once, why out of all the names she could have picked for her baby, she chose that one. Willow Maggie May Shaw. Especially since it was a bad memory for the both of us, and it hurt too much to listen to that song after she left. Sunny answered, “Because it was her favorite.”

  Ironically, it was Will and the happiness she brought into my life that got me dancing again. Her birth and my love for her healed the wound left behind by my mother leaving.

  Snapping me away from the memories of my past, Lily pulls me a little closer and holds my hands. She begins to dance. Her movements are small and slow. She sashays her hips and raises our hands. Her cobalt eyes never leave mine and encourage me to give in and move like she does.

  I fight it at first. My discomfort at being the center of attention is winning out over my love for music and my natural instinct to appreciate it by moving freely.

  The song playing is “Iris” by The Goo Goo Dolls. It has deep, meaningful lyrics and a heady rhythm. I find it nearly impossible not to get pulled in. All too soon, the song lulls me, calms me, and works its magic.

  I do as Lily says, and think only of Mav. It may be the alcohol, but I swear I can sense his eyes on me and the desire behind them. I cling to that tether we share and block out the crowd around me.

  After a moment, the awkwardness fades and the emotion the song evokes takes hold like a river as it streams through me. My eyes close. The room falls away and my body starts to sway.

  I let go. Relax. And just feel.

  Lily’s fingers disappear from mine, and free I reach up to take the pins from my hair, hold it up high and away from the heated skin of my neck. Sex is in the air and the sensation of it swirls around me like smoke, tempts me to let my hands roam over other areas of my body that I’d never normally touch in front of a room full of people.

  As I let go of my hair, the weight of it settles on my shoulders. My hips circle and my knees bend. My hands slide down my body, over my chest, and back up to my neck.

  MAVERICK

  I don’t have the words to explain what witnessing Ember and Lily dancing together does to me. The erotic fantasy tunneling through my mind is one best locked away to ponder on later.

  By the guilty look on Goose’s face, I’d say he’s thinking the same thing.

  I fist my beer and fight the urge to knock the nasty thoughts that star my girl from his head.

  “Don’t glare at me. You’re the one that sent them out there together.”

  He’s right of course. What the hell I was thinking?

  The sight of Ember and Lily dancing together quickly draws more male attention than either of us are comfortable with. Simultaneously we stand and move just off the dance floor. Near enough to intercede and stop a brother from touching our property if need be.

  Yeah, most of the HOCs here know who the girls belong to, but the same can’t be said for the Greenbacks. And Smoke, although Ember’s been in my arms the entire night, clearly hasn’t gotten the message. He’s been sitting in the darkest corner of the room and showing blatant interest in what’s mine, which is really starting to piss me off.

  As Ember’s nervousness begins to fade, she closes her eyes and lets go.

  I knew from the day I saw her play soccer with the kids, she was a free spirit. But to what extent didn’t hit home until now. She moves in such a way it looks like art, and instantly puts me under her spell.

  Her movements are raw and full of emotion. Completely unfiltered.

  Seeing her in leather, both the boots and the skirt, has had me rock hard all night. But witnessing her lose herself, touch herself, swing and dip her hips is the sweetest kind of sexual torture. All I can think about is throwing her over my shoulder and carrying her off to fuck good and hard until we’re both spent.

  Prying my gaze from her, I see a few men struggling with the same thought.

  Fuck, they better not be thinking what I’m thinking.

  That those hips were made for my hands to hold. That those parted pink lips were made to be kissed by my lips; and as soon as I get this woman in a bed, she’s going to move like this as she rides my cock, and when I lose myself deep inside her, it’ll be the sweetest kind of heaven for a sinner like me.

  Stepping forward, I take hold of her. Put an end to their musings. I’ve already claimed this beautiful creature for my own, and I’ll be the only man losing himself inside her tonight and every night after this one.

  EMBER

  The last chorus hits at the same time that strong hands grip my hips. I don’t need to open my eyes to know it’s him. The heat and friction my body shares with Mav’s are immediately recognizable.

  He whispers the lyrics of the chorus into my ear, and his hot breath sends tingles breaking out across my skin.

  The words echo through me.

  I want Mav to know who I am. I need him to really see me and accept me. Want me. Love me despite my scars, my past, and my fears.

  Opening my eyes, I let my hands travel up his chest then link my fingers behind his neck.

  The passion circling in Mav’s topaz gaze is intoxicating. As he wraps his arms around me, he pulls my body so close that no air exists between us. With my heels, I’m merely a few inches shorter, and it’s nice. Better than nice. It’s perfect. We’re chest to chest. Our lips are a breath away, and he’s taunting mine with their proximity.

  Together we move. Dance as if we’ve done this a million times before, except the yearning igniting between us tells a different story.

  That this is the first of many dances. That the hunger we feel for each other is new and all-consuming and neither of us feels like we’ll ever get enough.

  Because it will never be enough.

  I could never get enough of this. Of him.

  Moving forward, I let my breath tease his skin. His neck, his ear lobe, and finally his inner ear. “I need you,” I whisper. A shudder jolts through him, and his erection hardens further against my stomach.

  “God, Doll, I need you too.”

  One of his hands moves to my ass, and his fingers grab onto my thigh where my skirt ends. The other sinks into my nape. He cups the back of my head, and seals his mouth in a punishing kiss over mine.

  He’s taking control. Showing me, I am his Doll. And he’ll move me and take me any way he wants me.

  I submit and kiss him as ardently as he kisses me.

  When the song ends, he simply lifts me and I lock my ankles at his lower back. Ready and desperate for more of what only he can give me.

  We’re only haunted by things we don’t fully understand.

  EMBER

  The room is a mere ten feet away. But it might as well be a mile as far as we we’re concerned. Neither one of us can stand to go any further. Evident by the way Mav slams my back against the hallway wall and attacks my mouth with untamed ferocity.

  There’s only teeth, tongue, and sheer power as he works his lips over mine.

  I return his brutal kiss, and duel his tongue with my own. Truly lost to this wild and intoxicating need spiraling through me. My hands are everywhere, kneading into his back one minute, his ass the next, physically begging him to grant me no mercy.


  Breaking away, we gasp for breath. Unable to hold out any longer, I plead, “Mav, please.”

  “Jesus, Doll. Don’t beg. I’ll fucking come right here.”

  I push his shirt out of the way and claw impatiently at his belt. His strong fingers, which up until this moment have been digging into my thighs, suddenly hike my skirt up to my waist.

  Yes!

  The flames of lust circle higher.

  “Hold on to me.” I lock my hands behind his neck. He braces one hand against the wall and helps me free him from his jeans. Then I feel him, the tip of his erection brushing the outside of my underwear, his fingers pulling my panties to the side as he lines himself up.

  “Mav!” A male voice has us both freezing.

  “Fuck,” Mav growls. His body closes in around mine and shields me. He turns his head toward whoever’s talking as I bury my face in his neck. “Whiz, what the fuck man? Can’t you see I’m busy?”

  “We got a problem.”

  “Then get someone else to handle it.”

  “No. It needs to be you.”

  Mav groans. “Does it need to be dealt with right this fuckin’ second?”

  There’s a weighty pause. “Yeah. It does.”

  I can’t help it. I giggle. Mav bites my ear, grabs my ass, and pushes the tip of his cock inside me. My breath stutters in my lungs and the strangest thing happens. The massive heat we shared a moment ago instantly returns. I whimper and cling to him.

  “You think this is funny,” he whispers into my ear. “I want to fuck your goddamn brains out and they’re cock blockin’ me.”

  Then another voice, Taz’s says, “Brother, you’re gonna want to see this.”

  As Mav slowly slides deeper, he asks, “Is it life or death? Because if you stop me from fuckin’ my old lady right now, and it’s not life or death, it will be.”

  “Trust me, brother. You’ll thank me later for stoppin’ you.”

  Mav sinks to the hilt and bites my neck and I nearly come apart. “Christ, Doll. You feel like home.”

  Then he’s retreating and pulling out of me, while mumbling obscenities under his breath. I quickly push down my skirt. Mav smirks at me as he tucks himself back into his jeans and buckles his belt.

  Pulling out his keys, he lays them in my hand. “Wait for me. Don’t you dare touch yourself until I get back.” He takes a couple of steps backward toward his brothers, and adds, “We’re gonna finish this just as soon as I deal with whatever’s goin’ on.”

  My body is keyed up though, and the temptation to torture him further is too appealing. “Depends on how long you’re going to be. What if it takes hours? I don’t think I can wait that long.”

  He stops and comes back to me, threads his fingers through the back of my hair and using his torso, pins me to the wall again.

  He kisses me once, only a peck, but it’s a brand on my mouth that’s going to leave my lips definitely swollen, maybe even bruised.

  “Doll.” He brushes my bangs out of my eyes. “Let me put it this way. If you come without me buried inside you, I’m gonna know, and I swear to God above, I’m gonna spank your ass.”

  Mav’s room is bare, as bare as the last time I was here. A few knickknacks are lying around, but mostly he has only the necessities—a bed, dresser, side table, and lamp. All lackluster and drab compared to the décor and furniture in his new home.

  And just think, he’s lived like this for nine years.

  The thought is actually kind of depressing.

  Maybe at twenty-four it was everything he wanted. A place to sleep, a group of friends to party with and look out for one another, all the booze he could drink, and women ready for it at the crook of his finger. But over time, I can see how it would all become too impersonal.

  Especially for a man who designs homes for a living.

  He has a good heart. Of course, he’d eventually want more than this.

  With nothing to do except wait for Mav, I sit on the bed, pull out my phone, and try Sunny a few more times, muttering, “Come on . . . come on . . . pick up.” But each time it goes to voicemail. I send another text with the same message as the last one, and wait.

  Bored, my mind wanders. Tonight’s events replay themselves in my head, and when that only ends up getting me all hot and bothered all over again, I distract myself by snooping through his dresser.

  I find only the basics. So I collect a T-shirt, and some boxers from the drawer. Might as well shower and wash the smell of smoke from my hair and skin while I wait. If Mav comes back soon, hopefully, he’ll take the steam billowing out of the bathroom as an invitation to join me.

  But no such luck.

  I dress and comb my hair, then walk back into his room. But right away, something feels off. It takes me a second to realize what it is. The light that I left on is off. The room is bathed in moonlight and the bathroom light coming from behind me.

  Goosebumps break out across my arms and neck, and my eyes do a quick search of the dim room. But it looks as it did before. Empty.

  Possibly the light bulb burned out.

  Before I can take one step toward the switch to test my theory, a rough voice laced with many years of use startles me. “You look just like her, you know?”

  My heart lurches as I whirl around.

  Oxygen flees my lungs.

  A huge man is leaning against the wall by the bathroom doorway, like he was waiting for me. A shiver rakes over me when I think that I just showered with the door wide open.

  Was he in there with me?

  Oh, God.

  He’s a biker, and a familiar one at that. His inky hair is now peppered with a few grays. He still wears it in a braid, the end of which hits the middle of his chest. His dark skin is no longer a flawless mocha, but weathered, wrinkled with age, and tattooed.

  Even though it’s been over ten years, and I only saw him through a small opening in the closet, he’s unmistakable. His has the same wide forehead, broad shoulders, and intimidating presence, and not simply because of his height.

  The air around him reeks with menace.

  Taking a pack of smokes from his vest, he lights one. His old hands are adorned with large rings and covered with ink. And his eyes, black as coal, never once leave mine.

  Memories of my past rush forward. Years of watching Sunny go through misery and pain have my hands curling into fists. The hatred I’ve harbored for him all these years floods forward.

  “I don’t know what you think you’re doing in here. But if you don’t get out,”—I force myself to speak with as much conviction as possible—“I’ll scream.” When he doesn’t move a muscle, I slowly back toward the door. “Mav is going to be back any minute.”

  Blowing out smoke through the corner of his mouth, he warns, “Try to leave this room and this conversation is gonna get a lot more complicated than it needs to be.”

  I pause with my hand on the doorknob. We face off against one another and an eternity passes as a million scenarios of how to get away from him rush through my head.

  “I’m not here to hurt you. Just need some answers. I expect by the way you’re starin’ at me that you need some too. Now, are you or are you not Tessa’s daughter?”

  “Why it wasn’t enough that you ruined my sister, now you want to do the same to me?” I snarl. Then without thinking of the repercussions, I hiss, “You make me sick. How can you live with yourself?”

  “I ruined who?”

  Who?

  He honestly looks confused and it only makes my rage simmer hotter. “Who? Who do you think?” My stomach drops and a knot forms there when I realize he really doesn’t have a clue. “Oh, God, she wasn’t the only one?”

  “Girl, back up a second and answer my question. Is Telly—Tessa Owens, your mama?”

  A bolt of pain rockets through my chest at hearing the nickname so many of her boyfriends and friends called her.

  When I simply glower at him, he goes on. “At first—thought maybe it was a coincidence—so many people
in the world, fuck there just might be two of ’em that could look so much alike. Either that or my old eyes weren’t playin’ tricks on me. Then you danced. Exactly like she used to do, and it took me back twenty years. I knew then, you were too much like her not to be her daughter.”

  Undeterred by my silence, he asks, “She around? Is your sister?”

  Outrage coils up my body and I fire off, “If you ever come near Sunny or our home again, I’ll make sure you rot in prison for the rest of your life.”

  “So I was right.” He reaches out and dumps the ashes from his smoke. “Done my fair share of years locked up. Not lookin’ to go back.”

  “Then stay away from my family.”

  His forehead wrinkles as his brows pull together. He stubs out his smoke on his boot and then looks back up at me. “How is it you know who I am, but I’ve never seen you before last night?”

  “This conversation is over.” I turn the door handle.

  He lunges. But before I can scream, he slams his hand over my mouth covering it and grabs my other arm. His coal eyes lock with mine. “Girl, I told you I wasn’t gonna hurt you and I don’t plan to, but you’re startin’ to piss me off. I got more questions that need answerin’. You tell me what I need to know then this will go smooth—you don’t and keep shootin’ off that mouth of yours, we’re gonna have fuckin’ problems, you get me?”

  When I merely glower, he shakes me. “Now, when you can manage to calm the fuck down, tell me how it is you know who I am, but I’ve never seen you before last night?”

  His soulless eyes stay on mine and a long moment passes. He doesn’t remove his hand from my mouth until I take a deep breath from my nose and my body starts to let go of some of the tension rioting through me a moment ago. I nod that I’ll behave and he slowly lets go.

  “I was there. I saw you take Sunny into her room. And you’d come out and leave money on the table like she was some whore and not a child. Men like you should be castrated, spend the rest of their life in prison.”

  His forehead wrinkles as his brows pull together. Then an amused expression morphs on his weatherworn face. He raises a black eyebrow. “What exactly is it that you think I did to your sister?”