Ignite (The Disciples Book 4)

by Cassandra Robbins

“Because you’re mine.”

  His mouth latches on to my clit and sucks. He’s aggressive now. All the earlier gentleness is gone, as if he wants me to fall apart so he can put me back together.

  Reaching for the sheet, I bury my head in it and sob. And in a moment of blinding enlightenment, I spill over.

  “I love you,” I scream as he sucks and lets me come in his mouth. He climbs over me, pulling down his sweatpants. In one fast thrust, he’s deep inside me and I’m not sure I stopped coming because I’m still contracting.

  “That’s it.” His hands take mine and lace them above my head as his lips kiss and lick away my tears. Then he takes my mouth, and as he kisses me slow and lovingly, his cock fucking me hard, I die a thousand deaths.

  My nails claw into his chest, my body convulsing while I come.

  I’m screaming his name, that I love him, hate him as he fucks me like never before. It’s wild and primal and dangerous.

  It’s Axel.

  “Fuck. I can’t get enough. I’m gonna come, gonna fill this cunt up.”

  He freezes and I watch as he comes undone and every filthy thing we both said, all the fighting and spanking has led to Axel’s body jerking into mine.

  I look into his eyes and see into his soul. His very being is connected with mine.

  Everything I need, want, and will forever be addicted to is in him. It’s not the first time this has happened, but it’s definitely the most powerful.

  He lays his forehead on mine, his warm breath, which smells like smoke and coffee, makes me calm and secure. He wants me. I think he wants me way more than he can understand.

  He doesn’t pull out and when he finally does, he rolls over and stares at the ceiling. The expression on his face is not one of anger, but it’s somewhat tortured, a small frown, as if he’s concentrating. I’m sure he’s trying to figure out what to do with my love.

  But for some reason, I don’t care. I do love him. I feel free and happy. If he breaks my heart… I can’t even go there because I’m betting on him.

  “I need a shower.” I stretch.

  “No.” He sits up and kicks off his sweats, which I now realize never made it past his knees.

  “But, I have to. I… smell like sex,” I whisper, and he laughs. Leaning over, he kisses me hard yet tender.

  “I like you smelling like I just fucked you, with my seed inside you.” He stands and pulls on a pair of jeans.

  “Are you upset because I told you I love you?” He ignores me and lights up a cigarette, grabbing a black tee. “Maybe you have feelings for me?”

  His eyes narrow as he inhales his cigarette. “You have five minutes to get dressed and get your ass on my bike.”

  I stand, our eyes locked as I slowly smile.

  “I’ll be ready in two.”

  ANTOINETTE

  Riding on the back of Axel’s bike to Charlie’s diner has become one of my favorite things. It’s exciting and intimate.

  I overheard an old lady complaining about the prospects allowing anyone on the back of their bikes. At first I thought, Who cares? But now I get it. It’s a huge deal being on the back of Axel’s bike. Like I would freak if one day he drove up with another girl on his bike.

  I can’t even go there. It’s bad enough to have “MJ” on his hand. I tighten my arms on him and try not to replay what happened earlier. I think I made a mistake, but I can’t take it back.

  It’s not his fault that my ghosts like to pick certain times to mess with me. And it’s my birthday, so if I can ever get away with it, today’s the day… Oh God, what did I do?

  I’ll ask Charlie what she thinks, not Cindy or Dolly. I know what they’ll say.

  Maybe Eve will stop in and I can ask her. What about Doug?

  Crap, I screwed up. He’s pulling back. I can feel it in his stiff abs. Usually he’s one with the bike and I meld into him. This morning, he’s stiffer, less enthusiastic. But maybe I’m being overly sensitive.

  It needed to be said. And nothing I said was untrue. It might have come out wrong, but no one’s perfect. And he spanked me. I need to focus on the humiliation of that.

  Oh God, why did I tell him I love him?

  I should have asked him who MJ was. He would have told me, and then it could be in the past like my ghosts. I’d move on. Constantly seeing it on his hand is what gets to me. When he touches me or smokes or…

  I have to stop. But I can’t. I love him and that tattoo is making me crazy.

  The bike rumbles as we wait for the light to change. Usually he’d touch my hand or rub my leg. Sometimes he’ll grab my hand and slowly bring it to his cock. This morning, nothing. He’s sitting straight, hands resting on his thighs.

  Great.

  I want to rewind time, go back to Sunday. He woke me up at 5:00 a.m. to watch the sun rise on Los Angeles Crest Highway. We laughed, held hands, talked about performing. The rush of being in front of a crowd. I told him about the New York City Ballet, and he talked about his music and how songs come to him. As all the colors burst upon us, it was magical, and all I wanted was to lean into him and tell him I think he’s wonderful, that I want to stay.

  He revs the engine and leans low and I follow his movements, my daydream disappearing. We roar into the busy parking lot. I was hoping to have a minute with Charlie. He lets the bike rumble as he waits for me to get off at the curb.

  Swallowing back the urge to punch his black cut, I take the helmet off and use the Disciples logo as a bull’s-eye. Gracefully, I swing my leg off and hand him his helmet. He takes it and our eyes lock. Before I can stop myself, I blurt, “I need to know who MJ is.”

  He smirks and shakes his head. “That’s what this is all about?” His eyes are hidden behind black sunglasses, but I hold my breath because I know what’s coming.

  “MJ is my one true love.”

  If he wanted to slam home the fact that I’m betting on a lost cause, he did it. I almost scream, Liar, but he has her name on his hand. See, he does have a heart; but he’s given it to someone with the initials MJ.

  “I told you, Cookie, ask me no questions and I’ll tell you no lies.”

  I can’t look at him. I refuse to let him see that his words have made me want to start screaming and never stop. He doesn’t get to do this, at least not today on my birthday.

  “Thank you,” I spit out. “You’ve been abundantly clear this morning.” I nod at him and then spin to go into the diner saying over my shoulder, “Don’t worry about picking me up. I’ll have Cindy bring me ho—back to the clubhouse.” I almost plow straight into a couple coming out.

  “Sorry.” I frantically move around them, heading toward the office.

  “Hola, mi amour.” Victor, my favorite daytime cook waves at me from the kitchen. He’s one of the nicest men. Last week he brought in his three-year-old daughter who recently started ballet. So darn cute. He and his wife had her all decked out in a pink tutu. He loves his wife and family. He was the one who planted the seed about me maybe teaching dance. I was gonna ask Axel what he thought. But I guess now I need to put my focus on getting an apartment. Maybe Charlie can take pity on me and give me an advance?

  “Hi.” Despite the concerned look on his face, I run past him into the office. Looking around, all I want is a small spot to cry. My heart hurts, head throbs, it feels like he’s taken my soul without me even knowing that I gave it to him the first time I looked into his beautiful eyes. Choking back the lump in my throat, I snort. I’ll never be me without him. I want to double over and sob until I can’t cry anymore.

  Walking over to the leather couch, I sink down into it. I’m about ready to let it out so that I can pick myself up when the door bangs open revealing a concerned Charlie and an angry Cindy.

  “What’s happened?” Charlie sits next to me. Her long dark hair falls over one shoulder like a waterfall and I wish I was her.

  Sweet, beautiful, Charlie.

  “Are you hurt? Call Axel and have him come get her,” she informs Cindy who looks lik
e a cop that just caught me stealing.

  “I’m fine.” My voice is loud. Though I try to smile, instead, I wipe under my eyes like that will stop the tears.

  “You’re not fine. What happened?”

  I sigh and look up at the ceiling. “Oh, I did the one thing you all told me not to do. I told Axel I was in love with him.”

  I laugh, but it cracks and sounds like a sob. “Do you have some makeup I can borrow?” It sounds crazy, and Charlie frowns but motions for Cindy.

  “Why would you do that?” Cindy sounds truly baffled, and I almost burst out laughing because her shocked expression is nailing it home. She reaches for her large Prada backpack, which hangs on the coat rack. Unless it’s for fashion, we rarely wear coats in LA, so I guess it’s the purse rack.

  “What did he do?” She shakes her head, her blond hair, styled in perfect beach waves, moving to and fro.

  “He gave me a box filled with presents. It was huge.” I bite my lower lip and motion with my hands. “He bought me new pointe shoes and running shoes” I look at both of them.

  “Because I was making fun of him the other day, calling him an old man. So, we are… or were planning to run together in the mornings.” I blink back the tears. Cindy looks at me like I’ve grown horns and Charlie is smiling. She seriously thinks Axel is good, but he broke my heart and they need to be on my side, not his.

  “He spanked me,” I blurt out. As soon as it’s out of my mouth, I want to take it back.

  “What?” they say together.

  “It’s a long story. It’s nothing. I can’t believe I said that.” I put my hands on my hot, wet cheeks, which sting with tears and humiliation.

  “Did he abuse you? Like hurt you?” Cindy’s eyes zero in like she’s Axel and can read my mind.

  “No.” I sigh, so miserable I didn’t think it could get worse. “Please stop looking at me like that. Axel doesn’t beat me.”

  Charlie takes my hand. “Antoinette. I love Axel, but if he’s hurting you, I have to tell David. In fact, I should call him and let you talk to him. Trust me, if there’s one of them you can trust, it’s David.” She stands and grabs the office phone and I almost throw up.

  “Oh my God. Please stop,” I scream. “I’m the horrible person. It was a private thing between Axel and me.” My voice sounds hysterical, because Jesus Christ. David? Really?

  For once, Cindy looks like she understands while Charlie looks aggravated.

  “Antoinette,” she snaps. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m so stupid.” I close my eyes then look at them. “Axel is in love with MJ. All of you keep saying that he doesn’t fall in love, but he does… did.”

  Both of them frown.

  “I love him. He’s everything I want and can’t have because he’s in love with her.”

  “What are you talking about?” Cindy hands me her makeup bag.

  “MJ. That’s the woman Axel is in love with.” How can they not know this? At the very least, Charlie should.

  “Wait.” Charlie finally lets go of the phone and brings her hands up. “So, the spanking was just foreplay?” She rolls her eyes.

  I sigh and wipe away the residual tears. “Forget the spanking. I came hard.” My eyes get huge. “I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I said that.”

  “Wow.” Cindy smiles and slaps her legs as she recrosses them. “See, even Antoinette likes to get spanked.” She waggles her eyebrows at Charlie, then laughs.

  “Come on, lighten up. It’s fucking hot, right? I had no idea Axel was into that kind of play. I mean, I know he loves threesomes, and sharing…”

  “Jesus Christ, Cindy. Seriously?” Charlie shakes her head.

  “What?” She rolls her eyes at her.

  “Like David is a saint and you’re so virginal? I swear to God, Charlize, sometimes you have the most biased views concerning your husband. And you act like a prude. At least Antoinette is coming right along.”

  She jumps up and grabs her phone. “I’m texting Eve and Dolly.”

  “Stop texting. Poor Joy. She’s the only one working. We have to get back on the floor,” Charlie grumbles, and I feel awful that I completely forgot about work.

  “Antoinette, are you okay now?”

  I give her a small smile. “I’ll survive.” I nod.

  “You’re fantastic,” Cindy says. “I mean, I’m horrified for you about telling Axel you love him, but he didn’t break up with you, so hey.” Cindy stands and straightens her shirt.

  “I’m sorry, but did you two not hear that he admitted that MJ is his one true love? For God’s sake.” I throw my hands up. “He loves her so much he has her initials tattooed on his hand.”

  “Oh, fuck.” She looks at Charlie and back at me. “Are you serious?”

  Charlie steps in front of her and sighs like this is seriously bad. “Okay. First, Axel should have told you the truth. MJ stands for Mary Jane.” She nods at me and again it sounds even worse having her full name.

  “Where is she?” My eyes fill with tears.

  “Oh, Antoinette.” Charlie grabs my hands. “Oh God, I thought you knew.” She shakes her head. “Mary Jane is Marijuana. Axel is saying he loves pot, not a woman.”

  “What?” I shout and pull my hands away.

  “Yeah, trust me. Axel has never been with one woman for more than a week besides you.” She rubs my arm. “So, let’s all get back to work. I’m sure Joy hates us.”

  “Wait, it’s pot?”

  “Yep.” Cindy nods while she texts.

  “He let me think it was a woman.” I look at them.

  “I know, dick move, but that’s—”

  I hold up my hand. “Please don’t say that’s Axel.”

  She laughs but looks at me like it’s true and goes back to her phone. “Okay. I’m telling Eve to get us a table at Casa Vega for later on. We’re celebrating your birthday and the fact that you found out who Axel’s true love is.” She giggles and puts her phone in her bag.

  “You can stay at my place.” With that, she walks out.

  I look at Charlie who walks past me saying, “Maybe you should rest today.”

  “Absolutely not. I’ll be right there after I put a little makeup on.” I hold up Cindy’s giant bag. I’m sure I look and sound crazy because I feel crazy.

  “Okay, I’m going to get back out there.”

  Nodding, I smile at her, but my mind is racing.

  I’m stunned.

  Floored.

  I’m an idiot.

  I pretty much acted like a jealous weirdo over pot? Mary Jane?

  MJ.

  I feel like texting him, but he hates phones even though he’s on one twenty-four seven.

  “Okay.” I breathe out and open up Cindy’s makeup bag and start to dig. She’s got more makeup than any woman I’ve seen. And that includes my makeup artist for performances.

  I used to feel bad for Cindy. She tries so hard to be perfect. I snort at myself. That’s a joke. I need to be feeling sorry for myself.

  I’m basically falling to pieces. At least Cindy has an apartment. I don’t even know how to begin with all this stuff, so I use some concealer under my eyes. Light mascara in case I start crying again and some plum-colored lipstick.

  Holding the mirror away from my pale face, I acknowledge I need some blush. Quickly I brush on a pale plum color and call it a day. I need to get out there, I’m already so late.

  Walking out, I give Victor a big smile that seems to make him happy. The oil sizzles as he places a bunch of freshly cut potatoes into the fryer. I grab a pen, wrap my hair up with a rubber band, and stick my pen in. Making my way out to the floor, I instantly groan.

  Not this guy again.

  This is the fifth day in a row that he’s come in and he always sits in my section. I know this because I switched yesterday. He creeps me out and Joy said she’d take him. But he got up, left, and came back an hour later to sit in my section.

  I’m not in the mood today at all. Squaring my shou
lders, I debate whether I’m gonna bring him a menu. He always has the same thing. Three eggs runny with burned white toast and a side of a burger patty. He eats about half of it and repeats it the next day.

  “Hey you, happy birthday. Your boyfriend’s back.” Joy winks at me and slaps my ass with a bar towel as I roll my eyes and pass her. He’s sitting at the Dr. Strangelove table. A sign? A sign that my day has gone from good too bad to worse?

  I plaster on a fake smile. At least he’s a great tipper. “Hi, how are you today?” He looks up and I almost take a step back. Today he seems agitated. His thumb is tapping the table as if he’s been waiting and is upset. I turn to look over my shoulder as if I’m checking on something, so I can move back and not look like he’s freaking me out.

  His thumb stops and he stares straight ahead, then leans back and smiles. He reminds me of someone. It’s been bugging me for days. It’s his eyes. They’re blue and remind me of someone else I know, but it’s definitely not Axel—his are inky blue. I guess you could consider this guy attractive if he gained fifty pounds and didn’t radiate serial killer.

  “Um, so your regular?”

  “I’ve been waiting, you’re late. Happy Birthday, Toni.” I freeze and break into a cold sweat.

  “Excuse me?”

  “It’s your birthday. Here.” He puts a red package on the table. “For you.” He smiles.

  Who the hell is this guy? No one around here calls me Toni. Ever since meeting Axel, I’m Antoinette only. My past calls me Toni.

  “I’m sorry, do I know you?” My bitch voice is out.

  “I’m James. We haven’t officially met, but I saw you perform in New York and just knew.”

  My pen drops and rolls away as I try to breathe. Can this be true? “I doubt that. I’m sorry, but you might need another waitress.” I turn, but his voice stops me.

  “I did. I saw you.”

  Goose bumps trail down my arms.

  Ghosts.

  I look around, but everyone is busy. He continues, as if my fear is something he enjoys, and for a moment I regret making Axel angry. What if he doesn’t pick me up tonight?

  “You were like a dream. Of course you were only in the corps de ballet, but you did get a small solo.”