Harrison (Devil's Flame MC Book 4)

by Romi Hart

  “Ladies first,” he mumbled, and she knew he was watching as she strode out in front of him – making a bee line for the front door.

  * * *

  Harrison’s lips twisted slightly as he watched her, his eyes slipping down to admire her assets appreciatively. She reach the door, and pushed it open with Harrison on her heels. The bouncer gave a passing glance to the two of them and nodded as they walked toward the parking lot. Harrison glanced at the few cars remaining and wondered which one belonged to Skye, but instead of asking, he hit the key fob button.

  Beep. Beep. Beep.

  Skye’s car alarm being deactivated echoed, and Harrison spotted a small four door sedan at the center of the lot, its lights flashing in greeting. Skye started toward the car, and Harrison rushed to catch her as her high-heeled shoe buckled across a small pothole. Stumbling forward, she teetered for a breath, and Harrison grabbed her under her armpit, drawing her arm over his shoulder.

  “Damn, girl. you had way too much,” he commented, holding her up as he opened her door. Gently cradling Skye, he slipped her into the car and, with some assistance from him, she lifted her legs to rest in the floorboard. Harrison leaned over and fastened her seatbelt carefully. “There,” he grunted, closing her door and hurrying around to the driver’s seat. Upon opening the door, Harrison’s lips twitched. How he was supposed to fit into her micro-car was beyond him, especially with how close she kept the seat to the steering wheel.

  He found the electronic control, sliding back the as Harrison adjusted it before getting in, and then he lowered himself into the seat, putting on his seatbelt and glancing over at Skye, who was grinning from ear to ear.

  “I never took bad boys for being so extra cautious,” she joked.

  Harrison shook his head at her drunken humor. “Better safe than sorry. So, where are we headed?”

  Skye leaned forward and punched a number on her dash and the car began speaking instantly.

  Destination home. Arrival time approximately fifteen minutes with light traffic.

  Harrison rolled his eyes. Here she was a Texas stripper with a yuppy mobile? To him the combination was downright hilarious. “Tell me something?” Harrison asked.

  “What’s to tell, cowboy?” Skye said.

  “Where do you like it better, here or up north?”

  She laughed, nodding ahead of them, “If you turn here the GPS will recalculate, but it’s a little faster.” She leaned her head back against the seat as she gently closed her eyes and another hiccup expanded her chest. “As for your question, it’s just a location. Home is what you make it.” Harrison chuckled yet again and followed her instructions, leaning forward to turn up the radio as an old familiar Bon Jovi tune filled the car. Smiling in the rearview mirror slightly, He lipped the words automatically, ‘I’m a devil on the run, a six-gun shooter, a candle in the wind.’

  Harrison whipped the car into Skye’s driveway ten minutes later and turned off the ignition, glancing over at Skye and handing her the keys.

  “So,” she began, taking the keys from Harrison’s hands as she leaned closer to him, “Why don’t you come in the house for a few?” Harrison gave a shrug and opened the door.

  Skye grinned and followed suit, slamming her door a bit harder than she intended and fumbling with the key fob to lock it. She rushed toward the door, scrambling to find the house key and slide it into the lock. Harrison approached behind her, and she waved him inside. He stepped into the foyer, and she shut the door, twisting the deadbolt into place, double checking it before turning around.

  “Want something to drink?” she asked casually as she flicked on a light and moved into the kitchen. He followed her and stood awkwardly in the door as he watched her take down two glasses.

  “I think just some water for me,” he told her. She filled one glass. Harrison glanced away from her for a moment, observing the simplicity of her kitchen table and chairs. It was obvious she didn’t spend a lot of her time there. The place was almost bare of décor.

  Skye strode toward him with a sensual sway in her hips that always seemed to get his blood pumping. She gently handed one cup to him and polished off her own glass. He lifted the glass to his lips but didn’t drink as she leaned forward, thrusting her breasts against him, her cleavage glistening at him.

  “I’ve heard quite a bit,” she slipped her tongue out to trail over her lips as if savoring the words, “about your performance. Since you’ve shown everyone else at the club what you’ve got to offer, and you seem to know enough to commend my choreography, maybe you could give me a personal show so I can see what all the fuss is about,” she purred.

  Harrison leaned back, uncertain about her off-base behavior and the unexpected come on, especially with how much she’d had to drink. “I don’t know what you mean by that.”

  “Oh, bullshit,” Skye shook her head. “Every one of the girls you’ve taken to the back has had nothing but you to talk about ever since. All told, they revere you as a god, and I want to know what I’m missing.” She didn’t even blink. Maybe she wasn’t as far gone as he’d thought.

  And the temptation was getting to him, which meant he’d probably drank more than he realized. He closed his eyes and sighed. “I don’t want to take advantage of you when you’ve nearly drank me under the table,” Harrison stated.

  She stared at him for a moment, her eyes clear and her face set. She didn’t waver on her feet, even in the extraordinary heels. “I’m stone cold sober now.” She stepped back as she folded her arms across her chest.

  His eyes slid down her body with a leisurely gaze that reflected his desire, but he didn’t move a muscle. “Skye, I’m not doing this right now,” he hedged, his voice gravelly with the need to do exactly what she asked for.

  Skye tilted her head and grinned with an impish look in her eyes. “Oh, yes you are, cowboy. Unless you don’t think you’ve got the stamina to handle this mare.” She murmured, “Alexa – play Red Light Special by TLC.” Her hands slid down her sides, and she began to move to the motion of the music. “I’ve seen how you watch me. I see it every night, in every face in the crowd. And tonight, I saw it in your eyes. It’s the look of a man who wishes he could touch me and can’t. Don’t deny it.”

  Harrison gulped slightly as he placed his glass on the table, his eyes rolling over her figure as she moved, and he grunted, a huskiness overtaking his tone as he spoke. “How can I not be mesmerized by those curves? And the way you use them, I’m surprised no one in that crowd has had a heart attack from the palpitations."

  Her hands instinctively slid down to the hem of her shirt, and she pulled the fabric free from her skin, twisting to twirl and face him as she tossed the shirt at his feet and draped both of her arms over his shoulders. She pressed her breast into his chest, her eyes lifting to meet his. “Are you really going to deny me what I want after giving it to everybody else? Especially when you seem to like what I have to offer so much more?” she asked in a sultry tone.

  Harrison groaned softly, his arms slipping down to her hips as he pulled her closer into him, so she straddled his lap. He had a nice, hard helping of himself to give her, if that’s what she wanted, and he knew she felt it from the way she bit her lower lip and her brow creased a little. “Honey, you don’t know what you’re signing up for,” he warned, his hands brushing down her hips and around to cup her ass eagerly as he lifted her from the ground. “But,” his lips found hers and passionately parted his mouth, tongue sliding past Skye’s lips to tangle with hers. He fed her the desire that had weighed on him for weeks now, and he relished the eagerness with which she responded, the depth and heat that emanated from both of them.

  He finally broke free and growled, “If you’re intent on getting it, I’ll let you have it.” He stood again and turned with the intention of carrying her to the bedroom, but she didn’t seem to give a shit about making it to the mattress, her nails scoring down his back as she curved her head into his neck and suckled his skin. Harrison groaned lowly, his
cock thickening to the point of discomfort. “Where’s the mattress?” he asked.

  Lifting her head, Skye drew the tip of one fingernail across his neck as she whimpered, “Down the hall to the left, but I don’t think we need it."

  Harrison chuckled and stepped into the bathroom instead, lowering Skye to her feet as he pulled his shirt from his chest. “Well, fuck it.” He stepped forward and shoved his hand into her hair, yanking her face toward his. His lips crushed hers as he slipped his free hand down to the apex of her thighs, drawing his fingers tenderly over her nude skin as they made their way beneath the hemline of her skirt. Her hands found the button of his pants, and slipping it free, she began to tug at the fabric, hoisting at it slightly. His finger curved into the crotch of her panties and with one quick tug, he pulled them free of her skin, exposing her flesh to the cool air as he moved his waist out of her reach.

  “Uh, uh, princess. I’m in charge here,” he pronounced.

  “If you say so,” she rasped. His hand climbed further under her skirt until his fingers just barely grazed against the soft flesh of her clit. Knowing what he was touching, he circled his finger over the swollen nub as Skye’s mouth widened in a deep gasp.

  “Oh, god,” she whimpered, and he grinned wickedly.

  “In order for me to show you what all the fuss is about, I need you to completely trust every touch. Do you understand?” he asked. Skye’s eyes darted to the waistband of his pants, noting the tip of his cock had peeked out from the restrictive fabric.

  “Yes,” Skye breathed, though whether because of his touch or in answer to his question, he couldn’t tell. It didn’t matter, though. Harrison drew his hand away with a devilish grin, and as he met her gaze, he drew his fingers into his mouth and sucked them.

  “Mm,” he murmured, “Sweet, just as I expected.” He chuckled darkly, “Go lie down on the bed, and spread your legs,” he ordered.

  She stepped back and slid her skirt off, her arms rising in unison to reach around her back and unclasp her bra, and standing in nothing but the stilettos she looked back at him and crooned, “What about the shoes?"

  “Keep them on,” he muttered, his cock twitching and his throat closing as he watched her walk away.

  In the bedroom, she followed his instructions. He stood there, staring at the most perfect pussy he’d ever seen, smooth shaved, tight, and slick with need. He fought to get his bearings and slid his pants from his body, dropping to his knees as he crawled toward the mattress edge. Skye’s pupils dilated, watching as he drew closer, and, sucking in a deep breath she closed her eyes as his hands parted her lips and he lowered his mouth to savor her sweetness between his lips.

  “Oh, God!” she cried as he began to work his tongue in circles over her clit. She arched her back and ran her fingers through his hair and fisting them tightly, an indicator of the joy he was bringing her. He lifted her legs and rested them over his shoulders as he buried his face deeper within her folds.

  Skye groaned deeply. “Yes, yes, right there!” she encouraged, her nails digging into his scalp as she held him in place. As her muscles began to convulse and constrict, her pelvis rocked, allowing him to remain still and let her work herself into a frenzy as list tongue slid over her and dipped into her core. Her breath became jagged and labored as she anchored herself in place, and his sense of pride swelled right along with his cock as she hit the pinnacle, pouring into his mouth. He was just getting started, and he could tell he already had her hooked.

  He stood and wrapped his hand around his cock as he brought it closer to her, pumping it twice and stopping as he realized just how primed he already was. If he kept it up, he’d spill all over her. He wasn’t opposed to that idea, but he had something to prove. “I heard you praying, so I assume you understand the comparison to a god. But are you ready to see what I’ve really got?" he asked with a sly grin.

  He relished this far too much, more than with the other women. Skye wasn’t the begging type, regardless of her profession. She was different, and he loved that he could make her feel good.

  Skye groaned, glancing down her body at his massive erection, which felt like it might not last much longer if she didn’t give him a green light. It was a storm brewing. “Ready as I’ll ever be, cowboy,” she growled, her eyes clouded with desire as he settled between her thighs. The tip of his shaft just brushed against her body, and she closed her eyes as he thrust forward, his tongue slipping into her mouth as his cock slid deep inside her.

  Together, they rocked and fed off the energy, the desire, the tension, and when she broke the kiss, throwing her head back and screaming with her inner walls pulsating around him, Harrison lost control. He slammed into her while she clawed at him and poured out with such force his body stuttered and then fell on top of her, completely spent and barely conscious.

  As he lay there with her, he had to admit one thing. Skye was a girl who got exactly what she wanted.

  5

  In life, people made decisions without thinking about the consequences all the time, and Harrison wasn’t any different than most. He, just like everybody, sometimes made a dumbass choice, and today, as he rode through Chapel Hill, a favored meditation spot of Eli’s, Harrison knew that he had made a big mistake by vacating Skye’s house at such an early hour, without talking to her about last night.

  Snuck out. That was what it was called, and he’d done it like a fucking coward.

  But he knew he needed space, so he’d ducked out and called Eli for a ride to his bike. To his credit, Eli said nothing about being drawn away from Rory or about where he’d had to pick Harrison up. Most of the time, Eli was pretty good about keeping quiet and minding his own business.

  It worked out because Harrison wouldn’t have known what to say. He felt torn and confused, and it irritated him. Skye wasn’t supposed to join the list of women he’d chalked up to a notch in the bedpost. He’d never been infatuated with them as he was with her. And talking to her all night before they hooked up had shown him a side of her he hadn’t expected, one he respected and was drawn to even more. But he didn’t do relationships, and he’d planned to steer clear.

  Until she’d practically begged him to take out his knife and carve that next notch.

  He revved the bike a little higher than necessary as he rounded the next curve. He should have talked to her, at least half woken her and said goodbye. Now, he was that douchebag who had run out on her.

  He slowed and coasted into the MC club parking lot, parking the bike. Shaking his head, he pulled his bandana loose and stuffed it in his back pocket, striding toward the entrance. These days, it seemed like he only ever got over the to the clubhouse during the day, his nights spent babysitting the strip joint. And making his way through the virtual brothel of girls there.

  He shivered, suddenly finding his own behavior distasteful. None of those women held a candle to Skye, in looks, talent, or sexual prowess.

  He flung the door open and walked past the bar, sitting at the far end. “Whiskey,” he all but growled at the prospect behind the bar. “I got a lot on my mind.”

  “You look beat. Got a problem, I’ve got an ear,” the prospect offered with the glass.

  “You ever do something you swore you wouldn’t and then fucked up after by not owning up to it?” Harrison asked.

  “This is about a girl.” It was a statement, not a question.

  “Well, if it ain’t Captain Obvious,” Harrison replied sarcastically.

  “That’s Admiral to you,” the prospect winked with a cheeky smile. “I’m just guessing based on the general fuck ups around here lately. It’s always a woman.”

  “I have been surrounded by strippers all week,” Harrison snorted.

  “So what’s the damage?”

  “I ghosted on a girl I really kind of…” Harrison didn’t know how to put it. ‘Like’ seemed awfully childish. And also oddly intimate. “Respect.”

  “So, why don’t you go do what every other joker does and go apologize? Make
it right?”

  This kid was so young. “I’m not sure if I didn’t already fuck myself over. She saw me as a player, and now, she’s going to have it confirmed.”

  “You are a player.”

  Harrison shot the kid a warning look. “Watch it.” But he was right.

  The kid sighed. “Look, tell her you’re sorry. You had club business, but you came back to let her know, you know, she’s not just some conquest.” He shrugged. “That’s the easiest way.”

  But Harrison wasn’t so sure. Skye would be angry, hurt. He’d told her he respected her and proven it was lip service, ditching her the minute he woke up. Pulling a twenty from his pocket, he headed back toward the pool tables, aiming to lose a round to Guy. Anything to get his mind off the disaster he’d created and getting his ass beat at pool seemed a lot more appealing than facing down Skye’s judgment.

  * * *

  Harrison grinned, slipping forty dollars into his pocket as he left the clubhouse. Rare was it for someone to stomp Guy’s ass, but he had done it, and it was satisfying after the guilt over his treatment of Skye. It was just about time for him to head over to the strip joint, and he knew that the best thing to do was find Skye and explain himself as soon as he got there. He slid his leg over his bike, firing up the ignition and lurching the bike forward. It was a short drive, and he leaned into the bike as he wound about the first chicane corner.

  Looking ahead he noticed a patrol car positioned just at the second corner, and he slowed instinctively as he passed by the cop. They weren’t catching his ass again that soon, he thought, picking up speed just as soon as the cop was no longer in sight. These were the moments he cherished most and felt freest, with the stinging sensation of the air as it blew across his face and the open landscape scrolling past.