Page 142 of Burning Ember
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.
