Firetrap: The Soul Scorchers MC (The Scorched Souls Serial-series Book 1) (11 page)

“I like to deep throat. If you gag, or choke, just relax your throat. I doubt you’ll be able to speak.”

Shocked by his words, I went to reach for his shaft. I’d forgotten my hands were tied. This was mouth only.
Oh God.
Maybe I’d accepted more than I could handle. I didn’t have time to worry, though. He slapped his cock on my lips.

“Open up, babe. Use those lips and your tongue to make me come. I don’t mind a little teeth too.”

He pushed against my lips. I opened my mouth and used my tongue to circle the head, licking off the pre-cum, reveling in the taste.

“Oh fuck, Sally …” he groaned, inching in further.

It didn’t take long before he was hitting the back of my throat. I struggled to manage his size, wishing for the use of my hands.

“Gonna fuck your mouth,” he said, slipping his hand under my head and pumping harder.

I gagged and sputtered, but he kept thrusting, his groans becoming more pronounced, his breathing ragged.

“Where do you want my cum?” he growled, slowing enough for me to speak.

Even though my pussy ached from its abuse, the pressure was building again. “Inside me”

"Inside your cunt?”

“Yes, fuck my cunt.” Saying  the "C" word sounded so dirty, but so appropriate. Considering I was choking on Boone’s cock and he'd spanked my butt, my pussy, and fucked me with a vibrating dildo. Now I was tied to the bed my legs spread eagled. I could say cunt.

He stretched out above me and rammed into me without warning. Hot pain knifed through me and I was tempted to use my safe word, but I wanted to feel him flood me with his release.

“You feel so good. I’m gonna put my hand on your throat.”

Not sure what he meant, I was startled when his calloused hand grasped my throat, limiting my air supply. Panic overwhelmed me and I gasped. Boone’s grunts and groans escalated, and he pounded into me so hard I feared my pelvis might shatter. Instead, my thighs began to quiver and my vision tunneled. I didn’t know if it was from the lack of oxygen, or the tingles and pulsating sensations between my hips.

I was going to explode, implode, erupt, I didn’t know. The intensity this time was borderline frightening. My pussy tightened and clenched around Boone’s cock, and my whole body quaked. 

He released my neck and rose up, roaring. His release shot into me as I convulsed around him. Slick with sweat, he continued to grind against me until I’d milked everything from him.

“Holy fuck, Sally,” he whispered before claiming my mouth.

After a kiss that soothed and assured me how much pleasure I’d given him, he removed my bindings, massaging where I’d been restrained. He kissed my wrists, ankles, and neck, before locating the ointment he’d used earlier on my bottom, repeating the process. I was bound to be bruised tomorrow.

Following a thorough massage with the ointment, he disappeared into the bathroom and returned with a warm towel. He cleaned between my legs and added a different ointment. I was so sore I feared sitting would be impossible, but his ministrations after all the rough sex play, were exactly what I needed to come down and feel safe. I knew he had to be exhausted, but he didn’t stretch out next to me until he’d finished the comforting actions.

I had nothing to compare the night’s experiences with, but I was completely satiated. The balance of intense pain coupled with such acute pleasure, had impacted me on more than a physical level. There was a fresh connection and respect between us.

He spooned himself around me and cradled me close. “You’ll be uncomfortable tomorrow, but I’ll make sure to treat all those aches and pains. Part of this type of sex is the care I give you after it’s over. You might feel kind of high and lightheaded tomorrow, maybe even for a few days. Be easy on yourself.” He kissed my hair. “No chore list tomorrow, by the way. You relax. Visit with the other old ladies and the kids.”

I snuggled closer, melting against the massive man behind me.

There were so many things about this biker life I didn’t like, maybe even hated, but after tonight, I realized I was actually beginning to trust Boone. I no longer despised my kids. Things were looking up. If they’d just catch the men who’d tried to kill me, I’d feel a whole lot better.

In the meantime, I intended to fully embrace my role as Boone’s old lady and wife, as well as working on improving my parenting skills. My boys needed me. This was my family, and I intended to make things work with or without my memories.

Boone

Someone banging at my door, tore me from the best sleep I’d had in years. The reason for my peaceful slumber was nestled against me, her ass curved against my swelling cock and her golden hair splayed across the pillow, smelling like wild strawberries. She shifted and let out a little sigh. A second later her light snoring resumed.

I’d worn her out. No doubt. Not even the soon-to-be-dead asshole at our door could wake her.

Olympia. Sally. The woman of my dreams and past nightmares had given me a night I’d never forget.

“Boone! Now! My office,” Bones demanded, sounding angry, real fucking angry.

I glanced at the clock. It wasn’t even 7.00am. There had to be a problem, a big one, for him to wake me up this early. My first paint job wasn’t until noon.

Frustrated, I moved away from the source of my comfort, making every effort not to disturb her.

She shifted again and stretched. “Boone? Is everything okay?”

“My dad needs me. Go back to sleep, babe. I'll be back as soon as I can.” I mentally crossed my fingers, hoping she'd listen.

“I'm sore,” she whispered and giggled. “I'll be here when you get back.”

“That’s my girl.” I leaned over and kissed her cheek.

Before her luscious body distracted me further, I swung my feet to the floor, forcing myself upright.
Damn. I so did not want to get up yet.

Slipping on a lose pair of sweatpants and T-shirt, I ran my hand through my hair.
Why did I have such a bad feeling about this meeting?

I’d had a string of “bad feelings” lately, and those feelings, premonitions, whatever you wanted to call them, had proven accurate. The Soul Scorchers MC had become a magnet for trouble.

With a final glance at Olympia, who had once again embraced dreamland, I hurried from the room, ready for the worst.

I entered Boone's office with my coffee in hand. There was no way I was facing a monster without my morning caffeine shield. The look on Bones face confirmed I'd made the right decision.

He was pissed.

He nodded at the chair positioned in front of his junk strewn desk. He didn’t even bother easing into the reason for his rage.

“What the fuck are you doing with the mayor's daughter? Have you lost your grip on reality? Do you understand the danger you've put this club in? You’re the VP, my fucking son.” He dropped his head into his hands.

I waited, not sure what to say. Rarely did Bones lose his cool. With me in particular, he’d always remained calm.

He finally raised his head. “I knew your whole get-even-scheme was a bad idea, but we always do what we can to protect women and children. Olympia needed and continues to need our protection. That hasn't changed. What has changed is you got your kink on. With her. And I wasn't the only who heard the slaps, screams, and ...”

I raised my hand. “I get it. We were loud. It got out of hand, a little. But she loved it. She wanted it, Bones. It wasn't like I raped her.”

“That's the problem. You didn't rape Sally, but will
Olympia Olsen
see it the same way? Olympia couldn't give her consent, because she doesn't remember who the fuck she is. It's almost like you dropped some roofies in her drink and took advantage of her.”

Fuck. He was right.
I'd never even thought of it like that. I'd been so caught up in my need to punish and possess Olympia, I'd failed to really consider the long term ramifications, which could bring a legal firestorm to the club's door if Olympia chose to see what happened between us, the same way Bones suspected she might.

“I'm sorry. I just ... shit. She had like five orgasms. That's gotta count for something, right? She's not going to forget how much she enjoyed our time together.” I didn’t voice my next thoughts, but they were just as true. She loved submitting. She was made for it, made for me.

“Did you mark her? Bruises? Anything that could be used as evidence?”

This time I dropped my head, picturing the finger marks around her throat, my palm prints on her ass, and her swollen pussy.
Yeah, she was marked.

“Don't even answer. Make sure that shit is covered up. I get rough sex, but this whole BDSM thing; fuck, son.”

“Have you forgotten we own and operate a strip joint that caters to BDSM clientele? I'm not the only one with
particular
tastes in this club. Let's not even go there. And Olympia isn't the only one who could scream rape, is she? I can think of a few females who left one of our events after a night of fun they couldn’t quite remember.”

Bones was on his feet. “But she's the only bitch who thinks she's somebody else, and she's the mayor's daughter. And, if you have somehow managed to forget, she is supposed to marry our
favorite
fucking ATF agent. The one you practically took down last night in front of police and your fire fighting buddies. This. Is. A. Problem. No matter how you spin it, Boone. We’ve gotta come up with something.”

He was right. I'd made a mistake that could prove costly, not just to me, but everyone I cared about, including my kids. I was already in so deep I was drowning; I had no clue how to get out.

“What do you want me to do? Tell me. I'll do it.”

Bone's dropped back into his chair, his expression softening. “What are your intensions with her? You care about her, or are you still getting even and playing games?”

That was a damn good question.

There was no doubt she was changing me. I'd done things with Olympia I hadn't done since Rita, and then some. Olympia Olsen was under my skin. She was an itch I couldn't scratch hard enough. If she continued to “be” Sally, I would claim her as my real old lady.
Holy fuck.
This had become way too complicated, far too quickly.

Bones stated what I couldn’t put into words, “You like this one. Everyone can see it. You never sleep with your whores. You slept with her. This is different, son. I'm not sure what to do. I'd like to resolve it between us, here and now. Taking it to vote might turn out bad for her … and you.”

There was only one thing I could think of. Treat her good and explain that sex was off limits until her memory returned.

I explained my idea to Bones, who agreed.

His next warning spiked up my adrenaline to a whole new level. “Be ready to take off for the cabin at a moment's notice. I've got all the non-registered weapons already moved and secured too. I'm not sure our always-accommodating police chief will have enough time to warn us about an ATF raid. And after last night, we can expect one, maybe even today.

I'm gonna reach out to Rowdy; see where the Guardians are with all this. Give ‘em a chance to make things right. I'm with you. I don't believe they would do something so stupid. It's out of character. Maybe they've got some rogue members, or wannabes trying to stir things up.”

“Good idea. And thanks for having my back with this situation,
and
Olympia.”

I'd never been more relieved that my president was my father. I tried not to think that way, or use our family bond to my advantage, but I'd be lying if I said it didn't matter at times like this.

“I'm not willing to break a four year truce, without being a hundred percent certain the Hells Guardians are responsible. Shit. It could be another club. There are just too many variables that don’t add up.”

I nodded. Bones was smart. He'd have his hands full with some of the younger guys who wanted blood, though. They’d see the delay and diplomacy as weakness, something they had difficulty tolerating.

"So, church again later?"

“I'm scheduling it for six. Right now I’m gonna eat and then make that call. You better take care of your situation. And I meant when I said cover up any evidence of your ...”

“Understood. I'm on it.”

“Good, now get the hell out. If you need to spank someone, go to The Dungeon. I'm reopening tonight for VIP members. Just leave Olympia alone.”

I was already through the door, his ‘leave Olympia alone’ warning echoed in my mind.

How the hell was I supposed to do that?

I was a selfish son of a bitch, and I'd never wanted anyone the way I wanted her. This whole thing sucked. Add on the glaring fact that I didn't handle blue balls well at all, especially under stress. Sex was my primary release. Olympia was the female I wanted to fuck. Settling for less than the best held no appeal. Not anymore.

When I reached my room, I paused outside and swallowed down the last of my coffee, before unlocking the door as quietly as possible.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped inside, dreading the difficult conversation ahead.

It appeared the conversation would have to wait.

Olympia was gone.

Olympia

“JV? Joey? How do you want your eggs?” I scurried around the underground compound’s kitchen where the majority of activity was centered, as people prepared food.

Unable to stay asleep with Boone gone, I’d had a sudden urge to fix him and the kids breakfast. I discovered right away that I wasn’t a very good cook. In fact, it was almost like I’d never cooked a meal in my life.

To my relief, both boys decided on scrambled eggs with cheese on top. That seemed easy enough. I kept my eyes on the other women also preparing food. The one next to me was making eggs too. When she added salt, I added salt. When she sprinkled pepper, so did I.

I heard a mechanical pop behind me and turned to find the toast ready, a little browner than I’d hoped for, but it would have to do. I quickly buttered the crisp bread and spun back to finish the eggs, tossing on grated cheese. With the cheese melted, I loaded up plates for the boys and put one aside for Boone. If he felt at all like I did, he had to be starving. We’d expended some serious energy last night.

My face heated when I considered how he’d played my body like an expert musician played his instrument.

Reaching for a catsup bottle, I barely avoided bumping into the one person I didn’t want to see now, or ever. I was in too good a mood for her crap.

Twila leaned against the counter, spooning yogurt from its container. Her hair was a mess and her makeup smeared. She had on an oversized shirt that clearly belonged to one of the men. Ignoring her stare, I handed the catsup to JV and watched as he made his way to a group of younger kids. Joey had already escaped to a table with three attractive girls.

“So, I see you had fun last night,” Twila goaded, her gaze traveling to my throat. “Where did you sleep?”

Confused by the question, I stood taller, hoping I appeared more confident than I felt. “With my husband, in our bed. Where else would I sleep?”

I realized then, the foundation I’d applied to my throat must have sweated off when I’d had my face over the stove, leaving my bruises visible.

Without thinking, I reached up, brushing my fingers over the tender flesh.

Twila sneered. “Your husband? Are you sure about that?”

Noticing my distress, JV approached. “Don’t listen to her mom. She’s just jealous. She likes dad and he hates her.”

Unfortunately, her words had already found a place in my mind, reigniting the doubts I’d battled with yesterday. Even so, I tried to cling to Harmony’s reassurances and my youngest son’s response.

Why was I letting some jealous whore ruin my morning?

“Ask him for pictures. You know, evidence of your
love
.”

“Shut up, Twila!” another woman snapped. “You’re always trying to stir up trouble. Just because your dad was a friend of the club, doesn’t mean you can’t be put in the ground.”

Whoa …that was a serious threat.
I glanced at my defender. She was a pretty brunette that I’d pegged as another old lady last night.

Before I could ponder further, Boone pounded down the stairs, his gaze searching. When he spotted me, a look of relief washed over his face.

I tingled all over, momentarily forgetting Twila’s accusations. All I wanted was more of Boone; in me, on me, touching me … spanking me.

“Babe, I was worried. Thought you were going to wait for me.” He tilted his head. “Everything okay?” His gaze traveled to Twila, whose gloating expression had been replaced by uncertainty.