Firefight: The Soul Scorchers MC (The Scorched Souls Serial-series Book 2) (3 page)

He finished his drink and slammed down the glass. “You go back to bed and rest. I go to the couch and pretend my hand is your cunt.”

My mouth dropped open. That was so not the answer I was expecting. “I’m not tired. I just woke up. You can’t put me to bed like a little girl. What are you going to do, spank me first?”

His eyes narrowed, and he ran his hand through his long hair. “Don’t tempt me.”

Tempting him was exactly what I intended to do. There was no way he was keeping up this ridiculous charade. I might not trust him or believe everything he said, but one thing was certain, Boone Richards made my pussy purr, and like any cat, I would make sure I got petted.

Bending over, I wiggled my barely covered bottom, and dug through a cabinet, pretending to search for something to eat.

“What are you looking for?” he ground out, his teeth clenched.

“Food.”

Instead of commenting, he moved behind me, pushing against me. “Fuck, Sally, you need to put some clothes on…please. I don’t like this anymore than you do. I’m just tryin’ to do the right thing here.”

I turned to face him, and he crowded me against the counter, caging me in with his big arms. The fire in his eyes took my breath away. Playing with this man was not a good idea. If I pushed him too far, I might get more than a spanking.

That thought both terrified and intrigued me.

His nostrils flared. “I can smell your arousal. You need to go put some fucking pants on. Your clothes are in the bedroom closet.”

I knew I was wet, but damn.

Trying to move, I pushed against him, but his arms remained locked in place.

“If that’s what you want, let me go,” I squeaked, suddenly unsure.

Staring at my mouth, he took a long, shuddering breath and stepped back.

I brushed by him and dashed for the bedroom, feeling like a scared little girl who’d teased a rabid dog. If I wasn’t careful the dog would bite.

Back in the bedroom, I collapsed on the bed, panting.

This wasn’t going to work. I didn’t care how unsafe I was on the outside. I needed to get away from Boone, because the way he made me feel wasn’t safe either. Figuring out how to ditch a man like him wouldn’t be easy, but I had to try. If I stayed, he’d crush my heart.

Boone

Holy Fuck.
I stomped to the front door, flinging it open and half-stumbling onto the porch. The night time symphony halted, offended by my intrusion. I stared into the darkness, and the sounds resumed.

I needed to call Bones back and make him understand. For the first time I could remember, I was close to losing it. There was no way in hell I would be keeping my hands off Olympia’s sweet ass for a week, maybe even longer.

No. Fucking. Way.

It was doubtful I’d even make it through the night.

And I wanted to break another rule and spill everything I’d learned during my phone conversation. Bones had called to share the latest news from town. He’d barely set foot in the clubhouse, before being pulled into his office by Eggs and Spyder. They’d dropped the latest bomb.

The mayor was back.

Olympia’s father had supposedly escaped his kidnappers and was now on a crusade to save Seal’s Cove, which included stopping the arsonists and finding Olympia. He’d told anyone who would listen that a biker gang had abducted him. They didn’t have many details, but Spyder was doing his thing on the computer, hacking and cracking, looking for clues.

It didn’t made a damn bit of sense. As if the mayor could trick a group of hardcore, kidnapping criminals into freeing him, and I somehow doubted he’d fought them with his fists and lived to tell about it. The whole thing was utterly unbelievable. There was no way in hell the Guardians would be so shortsighted and careless, or stupid, for that matter.

I intended to have a friendly chat with the mayor. He’d hired me to work on Olympia’s bathroom, after all. That gave me reason enough to drop in and express my condolences; maybe he’d respond better than Olympia had when I’d paid my first visit following her mother’s death. 

The minute I was back from my ‘trip’ to Seattle, I’d be paying him a visit.

“Boone…”

I felt her behind me, in the doorway, even before she said my name.

“The mosquitoes will eat you alive out here. Why don’t you come back inside? I promise; no more games.”

I wished I could promise the same. This whole situation felt like a game, right down to the reason people were getting murdered.

Someone was playing a serious game with our minds and our lives.

“Boone,” she repeated. “Let’s find something to eat. Hungry woman here!”

I didn’t answer, but left my spot at the porch’s rail behind and followed her back into the cabin, securing the door behind us.

“You cooking?” I grinned, deciding to embrace her lighter mood. I’d had enough heaviness to last a lifetime.

“I’m thinking about it.” She raised a brow, daring me to comment on her nonexistent culinary skills.

“Keep right on thinking,” I teased.

I hadn’t commented this morning, but from what I’d tasted of Olympia’s cooking, meal preparation wasn’t on her list of talents. She’d certainly earned an ‘A’ for effort, but it was obvious she’d always had
the help
cook her meals in the past.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Her eyes sparkled with mischief.

I cleared my throat. “Nothing, babe. The eggs were just a little on the soggy side. And I do like salt, but…”

She laughed. “Blame the woman next to me. I was just following her lead.”

“Come here,” I curled my curled my trigger finger, motioning her over.

Her smile faltered.

“Babe, I just want to give you a hug. We’re a team. You have a right to be curious and ask questions, considering you lost your fucking mind.”

She smirked first, and then smiled, shaking her head. “I’m not sure I like it when you put it that way. And are you sure we should be hugging? You know what they say?”

“What
who
says?” I shot back, enjoying our banter.

“They, whoever they are.
They
say hugs and hand-holding can lead to
other
things.”

I knew I needed to stop while I was ahead, but I couldn’t seem to give a fuck about my father’s warning. Bones had told me making Olympia happy and playing nice would help win her over, and that was exactly what I was doing – working to win her approval.

If sex made her happy, who was I to withhold that happiness?

Grinning back at her, I took the bait. “What kinds of
other
things?”

“I could show you.” She bit her lower lip before running her tongue over it.

That was all the invitation I needed. “You’ve been kinda bad, babe. I may have to punish you. Can you live with that?”

My mind was already picturing what items, here in the cabin, would serve my purpose. I didn’t have any of my personal toys or tools here, but I was a resourceful motherfucker when it came to getting my kink on, and I intended to make use of my ingenuity.

She continued to worry at her lip, seemingly unaware of just how sexy her nibbling was. Her eyes widened when she caught me staring, and her checks flushed. “Yes, sir. I have been bad. Again.”

My cock strained, and anticipation lanced through me as I watched her shift nervously, still wearing her panties and a t-shirt that strained across her perfect breasts.

“Sally,” I said with meaning; calling her Olympia again would be like pouring water on the flame burning between us, and this was one fire I wanted to feed. “I like how you just referred to me as Sir. Tonight you will call me, Sir, as if it is my name. Nothing else. Understood?”

She nodded. Lowering her gaze, she peeked at me through long, thick lashes. “Yes, Sir.”

“You have been very bad. I asked you to put on some clothes, but here you are teasing me with your hot body, wearing those sexy red panties that barely cover your sweet pussy.”

Her whole body shuddered. “You’re right, Sir. I disobeyed you.”

Holy Hell.
For someone who had been innocent, a virgin even, last night, Olympia was playing the perfect submissive whore tonight. She was a natural. More confirmation she was made for me.

Searching the kitchen, I mentally checked off the supplies I needed:

Duck tape.

A plastic spatula.

Pancake syrup and any other sweet treats I could find.

Ice.

My bottle of Jack

That would have to do for tonight. Tomorrow was a whole new story.

Olympia

When Boone’s dominant tendencies took over, I was a goner.

I didn’t care if he was my husband, a de-flocked priest, or a prison escapee. I’d call him Sir and do whatever he told me just to experience his brand of punishing pleasure one more time.

Before finding him on the porch, I’d taken a few short minutes to determine that fighting with Boone would not serve my purposes, nor would it make our time together productive. If I wanted answers, I needed to earn his trust. We were here, somewhere out in the middle of nowhere, alone; no kids; no club members; just us. It was the perfect opportunity to build a bridge rather than erecting a wall between us that we couldn’t tear down.

If I could lull him into thinking I was fully submitted, both sexually and otherwise, I might find a way to convince him to reveal more, and perhaps even talk to the ATF or other law enforcement about our situation.

Great sex in the process was an added bonus I could more than live with.

With his back to me, I studied his wide shoulders and defined back, tapering down into a firm ass, he was flawless. Painted across his bronzed back, like an intricate design on an artist’s easel, were more colorful tattoos. They told a story I’d yet to decipher. Hopefully I’d get an opportunity to examine them later.

When I looked at Boone, and remembered the things he’d done to my body, just last night, my pussy actually quivered. There was an undeniable ache between my legs that only he could satisfy. That thought scared me and sent shivers spiraling everywhere at once, causing me to tremble.

Seeming to sense my scrutiny, he turned around, hands full of strange objects, ranging from Duck Tape to a bag of ice. It wasn’t hard to imagine what the tape might be for, but the ice?
Oh, yeah. I had some ideas there too.

“Sally, you appear to be interested in what I’m carrying. Don’t worry about what I’m up to over here. I want you to go into the bedroom and remove what little clothing you have on. Once you’ve done that, kneel by the bed, ass resting on your heels, with your head bowed and your hands in your lap. Do not touch yourself. Stay still, and wait for my next command. Remember your safe word?”

I nodded, suddenly afraid. A trail of goosebumps, the hair-raising kind, ran from the nape of my neck all the way down the back of both legs.

His gaze met mine. “Don’t be afraid, babe. I’ve got you. You can always opt out. I won’t do anything to you that you don’t want. Okay?”

Nodding again, I pushed my apprehension aside and moved to obey his command.

Alone in the room, I quickly removed my top and panties, kneeling by the bed, as he’d instructed. The vulnerability of the position was not lost on me. It amazed me how quick I was to trust him in the bedroom but refused to believe him in other matters. I’d need to take a long look at that discrepancy at some point. Right now, I didn’t want anything to intrude on our evening.

I didn’t have to wait long for Boone’s return. His heavy footsteps preceded his presence. I fought the urge to look at him and the collection of items I knew he’d gathered. The suspense and my curiosity added to my jumbled emotions.

With my head bowed, I caught a glimpse of his legs. He stopped and arranged his findings on the bedside table; a second later, he towered in front of me.

“You may look up, Sally.”

I raised my head and met his heated gaze. His jaw tightened and twitched and his mouth formed a firm line. After what felt like forever, he finally broke the tension-filled silence. “Good girl. When you listen and obey, I will reward you.”

Shivering, I nodded, eager for his rewards.

“Stand up and face away from me,” he instructed, his voice thick with need.

Glad to get off my knees, I quickly complied. Taking a deep breath, I struggled to control my increasing anxiety. With him so close, it was impossible to relax.

He moved against me, his hard chest pressed against my upper back, the nipple piercings grazing my skin. I could feel his hot breath on my neck; the light scent of whiskey tickling my nostrils. Still in his jeans, his cock strained against the denim and punched hard against my ass. I waited impatiently for his hands to explore me.

“You deserve a reward. Would you like me to touch you?”

I nodded again.

“Tell me,” he demanded.

Oh, God. I wanted to feel his hands everywhere.
“Touch me all over, Boone.”

He pulled back. “Did you forget my name, sweet cheeks?”

Damn it.
It appeared I’d already lost my reward. “
Sir
, I want you to touch me.”

He sighed and walked around me, lifting my chin with his finger. “I don’t think you deserve that reward now, do you?”

I shook my head. “No Sir. I need to be punished.” Saying the words fired a bolt of heat between my legs. I clamped my thighs together.

“Lie on the bed, on your back, and stretch your arms over your head.”

He didn’t have to ask twice. I assumed the position and waited while he prowled around the bed, his gaze devouring me with its intensity.

Grabbing the Duck Tape, he peeled away a long section and cut it with a knife he pulled from his pocket. With efficient ease, he secured my wrists with the tape. Admiring his work, he snipped another, shorter piece, and covered my mouth.

Shaking my head, panic threatened to overtake me.

“It’s okay babe. Trust me?” He stroked my cheek with his knuckles. Surprisingly, I relaxed and leaned into his touch.

“Good girl. Now breathe through your nose. I’ll take care of you.”

Being unable to speak was even more unsettling than not seeing when he’d blindfolded me.
How was I supposed to use my safe word?

As if aware of my thoughts, he explained. “I promise you won’t want me to stop what I’m going to do first. Before I inflict pain, in any form, I will remove the tape from your mouth.”