Page 36 of Burning Ember
I lower my gaze to the opening in his jeans. He’s commando. His cock, at least from what I can see of it . . . is as beautiful as the man himself. The veiny ridge is in plain sight, but he’s still partially hidden behind his jeans. I don’t dare move my hands for fear he’ll tie me up if I do.
I lean forward though. My breath’s heavy as both passion and anxiety roll through me. I contemplate the best way to release him from his jeans.
Licking my lips, I can’t deny I’m a little curious to know what he tastes like.
A shudder rolls through his body as my nose grazes his skin.
I move forward and I’m about to lick up his length, when he growls and jumps off the desk, knocking me backward in the process. I fall into the chair behind me and crack my head on the corner of the arm. Fiery pain flares through my skull.
I cradle my head in my hand as I hear, “Fuuucck! Fuck! Fuck!”
He’s pacing, raking his hands back and forth over his head. Then down twice over his face. He groans.
In one smooth swipe, he sends everything on the top shelf of a waist-high bookcase crashing to the floor.
Holy shit.
My heart stops and stutters before it starts beating again. I’m holding my breath. I want nothing more than to disappear. I’m all too familiar with this kind of rage. In mere seconds, he’ll turn on me. And physical pain will follow.
His head snaps in my direction. His eyes are cold and deadly.
I draw back as tremors run down my body. I hate that his furious stare stirs more than fear inside me. How can I be turned on and terrified of him at the same time?This is so wrong.
He’s an enigma. The most beautiful man I’ve ever seen—and yet he’s the biggest, unapologetic asshole I’ve ever met.
Why should I feel anything but contempt for him?
After all, he’s a biker, a criminal, a drain on society. He hates me. I’m nothing and nobody to him. No, that’s not true. To him, I’m a dirty alley cat. Something to be used and thrown away. A snitch.
The ironic thing is, it’s in his hands which of those things I become.
Glaring down at me he yells, “Get the fuck out!”
Yeah, gladly.
I scramble up off the floor and dart toward the door. Just as I’m about to escape, his hand circles by bicep and I’m yanked off my feet. I stumble into a wall, which is actually his chest.
He growls into my ear, “Not a fuckin’ word about this.”
“I won’t.” My voice sounds small.
“To no one. Not even Dozer.”
I quickly nod.
He releases me. Or more like shoves me toward the door.
I flee from the room. I’m better off anywhere else in the clubhouse than in there with Luce who, at the moment, seems to be possessed.
I yelp when I’m grabbed a second time in the hallway. My heart tries to leap out of my chest. It takes me a millisecond to comprehend it’s Lily.
Her eyebrows are creased with worry and her face is slightly red. “Oh, my God, girl. What the hell was that about? Are you okay?”
My heart’s still racing and my hands are shaking. Where my head connected with the chair stings.
I whisper, “I’m okay. I’m okay.” However, I’m not sure if I’m trying to convince Lily or myself.
It’s fine. You’re fine.
