Broken (Soldiers of Darkness MC Book 1) (6 page)

Chapter Six

Izzi

I open my eyes, and for a few seconds I forget where I am. And then it all comes rushing back; I’m in the Soldiers of Darkness clubhouse, waiting for Mack Slayer to return so we can talk about how he’s going to help me avenge the death of Aiden and my father. The first part of my plan is complete. But all of a sudden the rest feels a little uncertain, and I thought after a shower and a sleep my head would feel clearer but if anything it’s even more fuzzy than it was before.

I close my eyes again, hoping to find a few more minutes’ peace, but all I can think about is Mack, and I’m scared because I don’t want to have to rely on him too much. But I might have to. I don’t know how out of my depth I really am right now. I thought I was prepared. I thought I’d done everything I was supposed to do, listened to everything I’d been told. But even with all that preparation, the reality is still a little overwhelming.

I keep my eyes closed, remembering just a few hours ago when Mack Slayer was up in my face, staring me down; telling me how it was going to be. And all I can see are his eyes. He has the most incredible eyes. Dark-gray in color, they give nothing away about the kind of man he really is, and a part of me wants to know that – who he really is. Because all I know is what I’ve read or heard from other people. And that kind of stuff can’t always be considered accurate.

There’s something strange happening in the pit of my stomach now; the oddest sensation. I don’t even know how to describe it. I can’t still be hungry. One of the girls made me the best burger I’ve eaten in a long time, with a side of fries and a huge salad, so I don’t think hunger has anything to do with what’s happening in my gut. But the more I acknowledge the sensation, the more I recognize it. It’s something I haven’t felt for a while now. Something I haven’t really
wanted
to feel since Aiden died. And I don’t want to feel it now, but I know why it’s happening. And it won’t go away, that faint tingling in my thighs that’s causing my skin to break out in a flurry of goose bumps. It won’t go away. But I’m ready for it. I’m prepared. I can handle it.

I feel hot, and I gently wipe the back of my hand across my forehead because I’m sweating, yet it isn’t too warm in this room. The open window is letting in a welcoming breeze, but I’m still hot.

I kick off the sheet I’d pulled over me while I’d taken my nap, and loosen the robe I’d put on after my shower. I’m only wearing tiny white bikini panties, but I’m alone, so a few minutes to let the breeze cool my skin isn’t going to hurt.

Shifting position slightly I close my eyes again, and there he is, whether I want him there or not; the image of him is still filling my head. Mack Slayer. With his close-cropped, dark-brown hair, heavy stubble covering a strong jaw line and those deep gray eyes he’s refusing to leave me alone, even when his presence isn’t physical. And I feel that faint tingle between my legs start to grow in intensity, which excites me, and I hate that it’s doing that, but it is. And it isn’t an unfamiliar feeling, but it’s one I haven’t experienced in a while. And I certainly wasn’t expecting to feel it just yet, not so soon. Not under these circumstances. It almost makes me feel sick.

I keep my eyes closed and bite down on my lip as I touch my breasts, an almost involuntary action I make no attempt to stop. It feels nice. It feels good. It’s helping me relax. And as my nipples harden beneath my palms I let out the tiniest of sighs. Oh,
God
, I need this now, this release. But I try not to acknowledge just what – who – brought it on. Because that scares me. So much.

Leaving one hand to work on my breasts, I slide the other one lower, slowly, until it slips inside my panties and I gasp quietly as I realize I’m wet. Because of Mack Slayer? I don’t care. At this precise moment in time I really don’t care.

I lightly run my fingers over myself, lingering on my swollen clit and I want to cry out loud, it feels so fucking good! I slide two fingers inside myself, bucking my hips as I push deeper, my other hand now stroking my throbbing clit as it cries out for some much-needed attention.

I try to keep the moans low, because I haven’t forgotten where I am; that Mack is due back any time now and for some reason that thought causes a rush so strong to flood over me, an orgasm the like of which I haven’t felt in too long spreading through me like wild-fire. My body jerks, my fingers inside of me thrusting hard and deep, almost physically trying to pull the frustration out of me. And then it’s over. A quiet calm descends and I feel the guilt start to hit. I’ve just finger-fucked myself, and all the time I was doing it I was thinking about Mack Slayer.

Soldiers of Darkness President.

The man who’s going to help me kill the bastards who tore my world apart.

Mack Slayer.

A complication I’m not sure I need.

Mack

‘Is she still here?’ I direct that question at Duke, because he appears to be the only one in the clubhouse right now. Where the fuck is everyone else?

‘Who?’

‘Jesus, Duke, find that brain cell, will you? Izzi.’

‘Oh. The hot English mama.’ His mouth twists up into a leering grin and before I can stop myself I’ve grabbed him by his cut and thrown him back against the wall. ‘Shit, boss… What the fuck…?’

‘You don’t talk about her like that, y’hear me? She’s a guest in this clubhouse, and you treat her with some respect. She ain’t no club whore, you got that?’

Duke raises his hands in surrender, his expression remorseful enough for me to let go of him. He ain’t the only one to be surprised by that burst of anger, though. It’s pretty much thrown me, too.

‘Get outta my sight. Go make yourself fucking useful over at the tattoo studio.’

Duke knows better than to argue when I’m in a crappy mood. But then I realize he hasn’t answered my question.

‘Duke?’

He turns around, his expression still slightly wary, and I can’t blame him. I can be a bit of a loose cannon sometimes. ‘Yeah?’

‘Is she still here?’ She better be. I told her to stay put.

Duke jerks his head towards the back of the clubhouse. ‘She’s in your room.’

He’s referring to the room I always use if I want or need to stay over. Which is pretty much all the time. I’ve got a place on the edge of town but I like it here. I prefer it here. ‘OK. Thanks.’

He can sense my mood softening and he throws me a weak smile before he leaves. Yeah. He’s a good kid. A bit cocky sometimes but that’s necessary. He just has to learn when to keep his mouth shut.

I head down the corridor to the room at the end. My room. The door’s closed and I tap on it lightly but there’s no reply. I figure she must still be asleep so I carefully push it open, just a touch, and when I look inside I can see she’s quite obviously not asleep. She’s wide awake, and the sight of her is making my cock react the way it was never gonna do with the jailbait down at Viper’s bar.

She’s naked, bar a pair of tiny white panties, and I can’t tear my eyes away from her tits because she’s got her back arched, which has pushed them right out, and her hand is rubbing them, her nipples begging me to go suck on them…
Jesus Christ!
Talk about a welcome home!

Maybe a gentleman would’ve closed the door and given her some time alone to finish what she’s doing, but I ain’t no gentleman. I’m a horny biker bastard who wants to fuck this stranger until she can take no more. And then I want to fuck her again, which is the scary part. I don’t give seconds. I don’t do that, I never have. But I don’t think once is gonna cut it here. And I ain’t even touched her yet.

My eyes move to her stomach, following her other hand as she slides it underneath her panties and I silently beg her to take them off; to give me the view I’m fucking aching to see. But she doesn’t, and I have to make do with the torture of watching her bring herself off without really seeing anything, and as she lets out the tiniest of moans I know she’s just shoved her own fingers up herself, and my cock is consumed with jealousy.

I feel beads of sweat break out on my forehead as I continue to watch her solo fucking. Her hand’s moved down from her tits now, and she’s rubbing herself, and I move just slightly in the doorway, trying my hardest to see if I can get just the tiniest glimpse of her stroking her pussy because I am dying here! I want to pull her hands away and take over; I want to finish the job. This is fucking crazy! I can’t remember the last time I wanted a woman as bad as this. Usually it’s the women who want
me
, and I just give them their fantasy. But this is so fucking different it’s frightening!

I watch as her beautiful hips jerk upwards with each thrust of her fingers and it’s painful. Beyond anything else I have ever felt, it’s fucking painful. And I can’t stay here, lurking in the shadows, any longer. This shit is over. I need to talk to her, I really do. I need to talk to her. But I need to fuck her first.

Tomorrow we’ll talk.

Tonight I’m gonna take her, again and again, until she can’t fucking walk.

She’s come into my life for a reason.

And I think I know what that reason is. Now.

Izzi

I feel a panic surge over me as I realize he’s in the room, and I sit up and quickly pull the sheet over my almost-naked body.

‘Don’t bother, darlin’. There ain’t much I ain’t already seen.’

He was
watching
? What kind of low-down creepy bastard
does
that? ‘You saw?’

He smiles, and I try not to react but my stomach ignores the memo. ‘I didn’t see anywhere near enough, sweetheart.’ He sits down on the edge of the bed, and I’m shocked at how calm I am here. I know enough about this man to know that he treats women like crap, and he may have been the reason behind my need to finger-fuck myself to an incredible orgasm, the remnants of which are still lingering, but I’m over that now. That was a lapse, probably brought on by the sheer enormity of what I’m doing here. And I’m not about to become a notch on his President’s bed-post. I’m no biker whore. That isn’t how I want him to think of me. That isn’t how I’m playing this. I need to be the one in control, not him. He needs to know I’m not like all those other women he fucks and forgets. He isn’t going to forget
me
.

 
‘I should get dressed.’

I get up, keeping the sheet wrapped around me as I head over to my clothes, which are folded up neatly on the chair by the door.

‘Izzi?’

I don’t want to turn around, but it seems my brain is ignoring me too as I slowly turn to face him.

‘Why did you come to
me
?’

I’m not sure how much I can tell him. Because it wasn’t my choice to come to him, I was sent here. I just don’t know why – why it was him they said I needed to see, not really. I was told as much as I needed to know, but I’ve often wondered if there was more to it than I’ve been led to believe. I was just in no position to question.

He doesn’t wait for my answer, and maybe that’s because he senses I don’t really have one. And as he starts to come closer I step back, but the sheet catches my ankle and I stumble slightly, almost falling backwards, but he steadies me, reaching out to grab my arm. I’m grateful. It keeps me upright. The last thing I want to do is end up in an unceremonious heap on his floor.

‘Thank you.’

He doesn’t seem in any hurry to let me go, and I look down at his hand gripping my wrist. It’s OK, though. His grip isn’t tight.

‘Don’t mention it.’