Burned: Devil's Blaze MC Book 2 (7 page)

I open my eyes slowly. My body has been used hard and I feel it. I’m sore everywhere. Hell, after round—whatever, I lost count—even my
stomach
was sore. I know I have bruises all over my body and my poor ass may never be the same again. It was perfect, I think.

I hate that I have to leave. I look over at Torch, who’s still asleep. Even while he’s dreaming he looks cocky as hell. Then again, after last night, I can see why he can be so cocky. I didn’t think they made actual men like that. I have the strangest urge to dive down under the covers and give the sleeping beauty the best hummer he’s had in his life. I don’t, though. I need to get out of here before he wakes up. I don’t really do the whole morning-after thing. Shit, I usually leave right after, that’s more my speed. Besides, Bethie is probably worried to death. I need to get back to our apartment and get my stuff and get the hell out. Our plans have me meeting Bethie in Oklahoma. If I hurry, I can pack up, grab some breakfast, and be at our meeting spot before noon.

With that thought, I get up and go about finding my shit.  My skirt is by the bed, so I slide it on first. I’m definitely going to have to shower when I get home, too. That thought comes as my legs slide together and I feel the dried remnants of my last orgasm. It should be illegal for a man to have a dick
and
a tongue that work the way Torch’s does. I sit in the sad little side chair and do my boots up. My leg is sorer than fuck. Even the extra insole cushion and tight support of my boots isn’t going to help with the pain today. I find my bra over by the door, but I can’t bring myself to put it on; it’s too fucking early to be harnessing the ladies. I can’t find my shirt and I’m starting to panic. Then, I see the rolled up, black fabric peeking out from under the bed. I bend down to get it, sparing a quick glance at Torch. Yep, still asleep.
Thank God
.

I unroll the shirt and notice the dried crusty fluid on it. That son of a bitch used my shirt to dry his cum with when he shot all over my ass. The man definitely has a thing for asses and, shit, after last night, I may too. Still, I am
not
wearing that out. When I questioned why he had condoms in the nightstand drawer, he mentioned they had been there for a few days and he likes to be prepared. Kind of sucks knowing some other chick will probably be in my place tonight, but then again, Torch is a player, and I was just using his dick. What can I complain about?
Not a damn thing.
Still, I’m hoping the fact that they’ve been staying here works in my favor and he has some other clothes in the worn out dresser in front of the bed.

I wince as the fake wood squeaks when I pull out one of the drawers. I look self-consciously over my shoulder. Damn, he sleeps like the dead. Good for me, I guess.
Eureka!
I find a couple t-shirts. I hold one up. It’s black and faded-soft. In large writing it says:
A Shaved Beaver is A Happy Beaver
. I want to laugh out loud, but I don’t. It’s not easy. I slide it on over my head. It falls almost level with my skirt. It even smells like him. I’ll use it to sleep in. I shrug, trying not to contemplate on why I would want to wear anything that smelled like Torch. I’m about to leave, but then on a whim, I reach into the pocket of my skirt and pull out a twenty. I grab the motel paper and pen on the table, then leave him a note with a smirk.

One last look at him, then I head out. 

It fucking sucks waking up alone after the best night of sex you’ve had in your life.

Everything about that little brunette spitfire pleased me, except for the fucking fact that she left while I was sleeping. I should have tied her fucking ass up. I realize it was a one night stand, but hell, after you fuck a woman unconscious, you expect her to stay until you can get a goodbye round.

Actually, I’m talking out of my ass. I’ve never wanted a woman to stay in my bed for the night. I’ve never had a woman in my bed the whole night. I rake my hand through my hair. Shit, I guess I still haven’t. There’s no telling what time she left. I had planned to get her number, but that was stupid. She’s in motherfucking Texas, and that’s way too far from Kentucky to get my dick off. Still…

I shake my head and get up. I need a shower and caffeine before I can face today. I’ve almost made it to the bathroom when the door to my room shakes from the force of the fist hitting it on the other side.

“Guess Sabre and Latch are up,” I mutter after looking through the peephole. I stand back, opening the door for them and turn away to go start my shower. I smell like Holly and, though that’s a fucking awesome thing, I don’t need Sabre and Latch smelling her pussy. It’s an irrational thought, but it’s there all the same.

“Hey man. We got a locale on the girls. Get dressed and let’s get the fuck out of here,” says Sabre.

I’m busy stretching my dick and planning on jacking off in the shower because the son of a bitch is hard as a rock.
Fucking Holly.
I stop short and turn around to look at him.

“I need a damn shower.”

“No time. You’ll have to go smelling like pussy. If the info that Diesel’s crew intercepted from the Donahues is good, we need to get there before those fuckers do.”

“Fuck.” I go to the drawer to grab a pair of jeans and my favorite blue t-shirt. It’s a cat with a fucking huge dong that says Pussy Patrol on it.

“Jesus, you and your shirts,” Sabre grumbles when I turn back around zipping up my jeans.

“Don’t be intimidated by the size of my cat’s dick.”

“Fuck you.”

“Haters gonna hate,” I tell him, going to my pants over by the bed to fish out my billfold.

“It’s a mystery to me how you get laid wearing the shit you do,” Latch grumbles while I’m putting on my cut.

“It’s all about the size of the ship and motion of the ocean, brother,” I brag, running my fingers through my hair. “Let’s get the fuck out of here,” I tell them while heading for the door. “Oh wait, let me grab my keys.”

I walk over to the small table by the window and grab my keys, and that’s when I notice the paper and a twenty dollar bill. I grab it and bring it to my eyes.

Torch,

Thanks for last night. You weren’t bad. Have some breakfast on me.

That’s it. She didn’t even bother to sign the motherfucker. I just stare at it, unbelieving.
Not bad?
What the fuck is that shit? She was literally asleep during the last orgasm I gave her. Which, by the way, was like the fucking twelfth of the night for her. What the ever loving fuck?
Not bad?? Jesus!
If I had time, I’d find the bitch and blister her ass so hard she won’t sit for a fucking year.
Not bad!

“Oh, dude! You got served!” Latch is standing beside me. Before I can react, he grabs the twenty.

“Motherfucker, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“I’ll just keep this for my silence.”

“Silence for what?” Sabre asks as I wad up the note and throw it on the floor, following the two of them out to our bikes.

“On the fact that poor Torch’s ship sailed into waters it couldn’t handle.”

“Shut the fuck up, Latch,” I growl, jumping on my bike and starting it up.

Shit. This is not a good start to my day. My mind should be all about finding Beth and her sister. Instead, I’m following Sabre and Latch since they have the address, and all I can do is think about Holly. That, and there’s one thing that’s bothering the fuck out of me: how did she know I’m called Torch?

“Ahh,” I moan. “There’s nothing in this world that can’t be made better by a shower,” I tell myself after finishing blow-drying my hair. I have all my things packed and I’ve called Bethie to let her know I’m okay. Now, I just need to get dressed.  I find my most comfortable pair of yoga pants and slip those babies on. I look longingly at Torch’s absurd t-shirt. What the fuck do I care if people stare at me? I want to smell him around me today. I’m not going to look at that too closely. I mean, the man rocked my world last night. What woman wouldn’t want to remember that the next day? I’m apparently real adept at lying to myself; it’s a skill I’ve honed over the years.

I finish packing my makeup and toiletries and zip my satchel with a sigh. I’ve enjoyed Texas. Since escaping from the Snake and leaving France in our rearview mirror, Bethie and I have called quite a few states home. At first it was just Georgia and Kentucky because Bethie was intent on finding Skull again. After the bastard broke her heart, we broadened our horizons, figuring the safest thing to do was to get as far away from Georgia as possible. So far, Texas has been the best. We’re going to meet up in Oklahoma, but we have California in our sights. We figure we won’t stand out quite so much in a big city. We’ve gone over it and over it, but it doesn’t make it any easier. Then again, nothing in our lives has been easy. I used to think I was the one who had it worse, but not anymore.

Bethie loves Skull. She loves him so much I hear her late at night crying in her room over him. What would it be like to find the love of your life, only to be torn away from him? And then finding him again, only to find him with someone else?

Bethie says I’m strong, that she wishes she could be just like me. What she doesn’t realize is, she’s stronger than I’ll ever be.

I shove all of these thoughts behind me. I’m putting off leaving. I know I am. Driving is hard on me with my leg, but I do need to get going. I check my things one last time, then grab my satchel, my laptop carrier and jacket, then head for the door.

When I open it, I freeze. The last thing I expected to see when I opened the door was Torch.

“What are you doing here?”

“Holly?” Torch says, staring at me, just as shocked. I freeze.
Fuck.
I can see the exact minute understanding hits him. “That’s how you knew my name was Torch. You knew who we were and what I was doing here.”

Bluff your way through, Katie.
Bluff your fucking ass off,
I repeat over and over in my mind.    

“What are you talking about?” I ask, ignoring the other two who stand behind him. “You told me your name. Listen, it’s cute, you showing up here and all, but I’m running late.” One problem at a time, that’s all I can handle. I lock the door, turning my back to him and acting like I don’t have a care in the world.

“Is that a fact?” asks Torch, and the tone of his voice makes me nervous.

“Afraid so, but hey, maybe we could meet up later at the bar for lunch.”

“Where are you headed…
Holly?
”    

The way he stressed my fake name doesn’t escape me, but I soldier through. I just have to commit to my lie; I have to get to my car and get the fuck away. I know these back roads better than anyone. I can lose them; I just need to get to my jeep.

“Headed?” I call back. “Oh, my grandmother’s. She lives in Odessa and she’s feeling pretty bad. She caught a stomach virus and can’t seem to shake it. I’m going to go be with her for a little while, you know? Help go take care of her.”

“That’s awful sweet of you.”

“Well, I care for her. That’s what you do for family, you know?” I figure I’m about ten steps away from my jeep. Ten steps and I can find freedom.
Ten steps
.

“Yeah, I get it. But hey, I have a question.” I ignore the way my heart speeds up in panic.
Five more steps, just five more.

“What’s that?” I ask, still walking.
Four steps…

“How were you going to have lunch with me if you’re going to Odessa?”

Fuck! Three steps… Deep breath, Katie… Deep breath…

“Okay, well, I guess I wasn’t really planning on meeting you.”

“I bet,” he says snidely, but I’m jumping up and down inside because I’ve made it to the jeep.

“Well, you have to admit, you finding my address and just showing up here, that kind of stuff screams stalker, Hunter,” I tell him, unlocking my jeep. I open the door and remove the strap to my laptop off my shoulder so I can throw it in. Torch grabs it, and that’s when I realize he’s beside me and not in front of me. “I could have got that,” I grumble. He doesn’t say anything, but he does slide my overnight satchel off of my shoulder. “Whatever, just put them in the back, will ya? I need to get going. My aunt needs me.”

“Your aunt? I thought you said it was your grandmother?”

Fuck!

“That’s what I meant,” I insist. “You have me all flustered. Can you just put my stuff in the back so I can get going?”

I don’t know what I expect, but it isn’t the feel of cold metal latching around my wrist. I look down to find Torch putting a handcuff on one of my arms, then deftly latching the other to his own wrist. “What—What are you doing?” I ask stupidly, because it’s pretty clear what he’s doing.

“The jig’s up, Katie.”

My heart turns over at his words.

Fuck. I should have run.