Hawke: A Bad Boy Fighter Romance (With bonus book Sons of Flame MC) (14 page)

“With me?” Jack asked.

I nodded. “You think we could?”

He pulled his hips back. The head of his cock pressed against me, and I widened my hips and exhaled long and slow as he slipped inside me by inches. “We could,” he said. Finally, a note of pleasure left his throat. He entered me so gradually, filling me by degrees, that I wasn’t sure he’d ever get there.

“Naomi,” he breathed into my lips, “I’ll follow you anywhere, I promise.”

Finally, I felt his hips pressed against mine, as deep as he could go. I half expected him to start going at me like a beast, all that violence from before focused on fucking me ragged but… he pulled out slowly, sighing as he did, and then thrust in again, a slow piston.

I struggled against the hand that pinned mine in place, but it was useless; he didn’t seem to even notice. He watched my face; his was a mask of concentration and lust. The veins of his neck stood out, and his eyes tightened with the signs of his pleasure from moment to moment, but somehow he controlled himself and fucked me with slow, long, deep thrusts that were angled perfectly to hit the tender spot inside like his fingers had before.

“You’re too fucking beautiful for this world, Naomi,” he said, his voice tight, strained with his own pleasure. “Too beautiful for me. Too perfect.”

I squeezed him inside me, clamping down tight as I jerked my hips forward during his long thrust in, and he groaned, his eyes fluttering closed. “You’re in, Jack,” I muttered. “You win; you don’t have to go on like that.”

He looked down at me. “I’ll tell you you’re beautiful, and perfect, every day from now on if I want to, lady.” He slammed into me to drive the point home. “And you’ll fuckin’ take it.” He pulled out, slammed back in.

“Jack!” I howled as he pulled out, and thrust in again, harder. Sparks set off wildfires throughout my body, and his hand on my wrist was gentle but firm as his lips smashed against mine and he started to speed up, bucking against me at a rising pace.

“You feel so fuckin’ good, baby,” he growled. “Fuck… fuck…”

I fought him for it. Every time he plunged into me I gritted my teeth and hammered my hips up, tense and tight. The heat in his eyes focused, and he snarled as he kissed me harder, until we were growling at one another like animals, each trying to devour the other, to win the bout. His body trembled on top of mine as he struggled to control himself, and I was bound and determined to make him come for me before I did.

He let my wrist go to brace himself on both arms. My legs locked around his waist, I dug my fingers into his shoulders and pulled so that we rocked together violently. The couch shook under us.

Something cracked. The arm of the couch. Cheap piece of shit. We didn’t stop. It groaned behind me each time Jack and I slammed against one another, until finally it cracked entirely. It happened so suddenly, and Jack had pounded into me so hard that our momentum carried us into a precarious slide.

I yelped, and cringed. Jack fell on top of me, his arms tightening around my shoulders, and we were rolling, and then falling, and there was a crash outside my tightly closed eyes, and shattering glass as Jack’s back hit my cheap Ikea coffee table, which shattered and spilled a second-hand pottery barn dish onto the floor.

The breath left him in a huff when I landed on him, and he groaned sharply from the pain that probably thundered through his ribs. My heart was pounding, and I panicked that he’d shattered one of his fractured ribs.

But when I started to scramble off him his hands gripped my hips, and he thrust up into me, roaring through whatever pain the fall had caused.

Unbelieving, my body responded on its own. I dropped my knees, clawed at his chest while I pushed myself up, and Jack picked his pace back up like nothing had happened. He lifted my hips each time he pulled out, his hands slipping off of my hips and down around my ass.

I slid my hands down his abs, and braced myself on them as I rode him, awash with lust that the fall had only stoked higher. This was a man with a mission; nothing would get in the way, and it drove me wild to see him power through it like the only thing that mattered, the only thing he cared about, was this. Us. Now.

He swelled inside me. His neck craned forward, and he rumbled something I didn’t hear the first time.

“Jesus… fuck, Naomi… ride it… shit…” he was muttering through clenched teeth, and I felt him get iron hard and unbending inside me, stretching me just that little bit more and I knew that I was going to win.

I smiled down at him, wicked and spiteful after his little trick before, and settled onto him, squeezing tight, and refusing to move.

Jack’s neck muscles strained to cords. He breathed out harshly, and every muscle from his chest to his stomach tightened and bulged.

He reached down between my legs where we were locked together and pinched my clit once before he started massaging it between his fingers and thrusting to get what little movement he could.

I grabbed at his wrist, tried to stop him, but when it became apparent that I wasn’t strong enough I instead started riding him again with a vengeance, my pussy clenching on its own from the work of his fingers over my clit until a flush of heat spread through me and arched my back, clawing its way up into my brain where another explosion of shattering pleasure broke through me.

Under me, Jack cussed, bucked one last time, and then roared my name as he came with me, his cock pulsing against the locked walls of my tunnel.

I fell forward, spent, exhausted, still on fire; little electric tremors continued to fire off through my limbs and spine, aftershocks of a bodyquake that wasn’t through with me yet. Jack stayed inside me, stayed hard, and occasionally pushed his hips up slowly to fuck me languidly in our mutual afterglow.

“Go away with me,” He said quietly against my ear.

“Where?” I wondered.

“Anywhere,” Jack murmured. “Don’t care. Middle America, how’s that sound?”

“Like we’d both lose our minds,” I said, lazy and satisfied, the words almost slurring.

“Not a corn field then,” he chuckled. “But somewhere. Somewhere far away from this rotten city.”

“You think you could do it?” I asked.

“Could you?”

I wondered about it. Starting over… it sounded good. I’d grown up here, and it had made me hard, cynical. And that was good, but not when it was all of me. I wanted to be soft again, at least some part of me, easy and yielding. I wanted to be happy, and free to feel happy on my own terms. And, I wanted to be happy with Jack.

“Yeah,” I said. “I could. I’d miss Nic. And, maybe even Jason in a way, now that he’s finally seeing Nic clearly for the first time.”

“They’d survive,” Jack said. “Maybe even get out of this city themselves.”

“Nah,” I said. “Nic and Jas… they belong here. They could visit. Short visits.” I smiled, and lifted myself up enough to kiss Jack softly on the lips.

“Okay,” he said. “Let’s do it. See where it takes us. All I got is you, baby; and that’s all I need.”

I smiled. “I guess I win, then. Naomi one, Jack zero.”

Jack laughed, and squeezed me, and kissed me again. “I never lose, baby. We’ll call it a tie.”

I was okay with that. This time.

 

THE END

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Keep on reading for your FREE bonus book,
Sons of Flame MC – Redemption
!

 

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Ashley x

Sons of Flame MC - Redemption

 

By Ashley Rhodes

 

Copyright 2015 Ashley Rhodes

 

All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Tess Bailey will never forget the day that Eli Flint burst into her life. He's a hard man, tempered by a life lived on the edge - but Tess sees something in his intense blue eyes; something that grabs her and just won't let go.

 

Eli's an ex-con; he served three years for selling guns as a member of the notorious Sons of Flame MC. Now he's out, and he wants to put his past behind him and move on.

 

But it's not that easy. It's never that easy.

 

Tess is Eli's probation officer. Young and idealistic, she's determined not to become as jaded as her coworkers. She deals with some of the most difficult and dangerous men - men who have always lived a life of crime, men for whom that life is all they know, and ever will know.

 

But Eli's different.

 

Underneath his tough, spiky exterior, Tess senses a man who wants to improve himself, who wants something better from life.

 

However, when Tex, the cruel and bitter leader of the Sons of Flame, blackmails Eli into working for him once more, Eli is forced back into the life he's trying to leave behind. And Tess, the woman Eli is falling for, is unwittingly drawn into this dangerous world with him...

 

Redemption is a standalone romance novel, with a HEA ending, some scenes of violence and swearing, and some steamy scenes too!

Prologue

 

The Mojave Desert sun beat down relentlessly, searing any exposed skin. It seemed to radiate from the ground too, in waves of enervating heat. The landscape was flat for miles around - sand, cacti, and scrubby grass was all there was as far as the eye could see. The mountains on the horizon shimmered, making them seem almost unreal.

The air was hot and dry, and each breath that Eli took seemed to burn his lungs and suck the moisture from his mouth. He was desperate to take a drink from the flask full of water at his hip, but he couldn’t. Not yet. The situation was tense, as these things always seemed to be.

He risked a glance either side of him, to see how everyone else was holding up. Tex stood to his right, almost shoulder to shoulder. The gang leader’s eyes were hidden behind his shades, as ever, but he stood straight and inscrutable. If he was feeling the heat as much as Eli was, he was doing a damn good job of hiding it.

Shank stood on the other side of Tex. The older man’s thinning, wispy hair blew in the hot gusts of desert air, and his raptor eyes were narrowed in suspicion and distrust. Not that this was anything new with Shank. That was how he always looked, and his natural demeanour was probably a big part of what had let him survive so long in this line of work. Letting your guard down, even for a second, was something that Eli had learned never to do.

Eli swallowed, his saliva thick and hot and gritty. This damn sand got everywhere. He’d be washing it out of his hair for days once this was over.

He saw movement out of the corner of his eye, and turned his attention back to the reason they were in this godforsaken hellhole in the first place.

Four guys, standing opposite them in a line. Their faces were red and they were all sweating profusely. They looked as uncomfortable as Eli felt, in sharp contrast to Tex and Shank who looked as if they were just out for a Sunday stroll.

“Can we get this done?” said the guy in the middle, who Eli took to be their leader. “I’m fucking roasting alive out here.” Eli didn’t know any of their names. Safer that way, as Tex always said.

“What’s the matter?” Tex wheezed, looking amused (or at least, as amused as Tex ever got) at the other guy’s discomfort. “‘Ain’t you never been out in a little sun before?”

The guy’s lips thinned, his eyes narrowed.

“Listen, jerkoff. I ain’t here for a fuckin’ picnic, you hear? Let’s make the trade and go our separate ways.”

Tex stared the guy down, before spitting loudly onto the ground. Eli felt a rivulet of sweat roll down between his shoulder blades.

Why did it always have to be like this? Why was it always so tense, as if violence could explode at any moment? It just seemed to make things more difficult than they needed to be. But Tex and Shank always seemed to revel in these sorts of situations. They lived for shit like this. Eli, on the other hand, would probably rather have been anywhere else than out there in the middle of the goddamn desert. There was just one reason he was here.

“You got the money?” Tex drawled.

A nod from the other guy. He gestured to one of his crew, who produced a suitcase.

“Show me.”

Tex’s voice was tight with excitement. This was one of the biggest jobs that the Sons of Flame had ever landed, and Tex stood to make a whole lot of cash if things went smoothly. Hell, they all did, even Eli. Enough that he was considering getting out of this game once it was all done with.

“Show us the goods first.”

Tex glanced sideways at Shank, who, after a moment, nodded once sharply. Tex fixed the other guys with a stare that would have wilted even the cacti that somehow thrived in this place.

“OK, we’ll meet in the middle there. Nice and slow, no sudden movements. Hands where I can see ‘em.”

A nod from their leader.

“Deal. Same for you.”

Tex bent down and hefted the bag that was lying at his feet. It was heavy, and Eli could see the wiry muscles of Tex’s arm bunch with the effort of lifting it.

“Stay close to me, and keep your eyes peeled young’un.”

These words were spoken to Eli from the side of Tex’s mouth.

“If they try anything, you better be ready to act. I don’t want you letting me down, you hear?”

Eli swallowed, his nerves jangling, and then just nodded once. He didn’t know if Tex saw, but it didn’t matter anyway. The leader of the Sons of Flame took a step forward at the same moment the buyers did, and Eli and Shank kept pace with him.

Eli’s heart was pounding and his knees felt shaky and weak. Adrenaline surged through his veins. He just hoped that nobody would notice. Tex and Shank looked calm and inscrutable. They’d done this so many times before, and they’d always come out one way or another, so Eli trusted in their experience.

A few more steps and they were face to face with the other guys. Up close, Eli could see the tension written on their faces too. Both sets of men came to a halt and Eli could sense that Tex was sizing them up.

“OK, gentlemen. This is how this is gonna go down. One of you steps forward with the money, and I step forward with the goods. We open each at the same moment. No funny business, no jerking around. Let’s get this done quick and clean. Got it?”

Their leader gestured to his man, who handed over the suitcase.

Tex nodded, and took a step forward at the same moment the other guy did. They met in the middle.

“Ready?” Tex said.

“Ready.”

Tex set the bag down at his feet and put his hand on the zipper.

“On the count of three.”

The buyer followed Tex’s lead.

“One. Two. Three.”

Time seemed to slow for Eli. This was it. This was the most dangerous, the most tense moment. This was where everything could go wrong in an instant.

Tex unzipped the bag, revealing the contents to everyone present. Even though Eli knew what was in there, he was still in awe of the sheer amount of hardware contained in that bag.

Guns. It was full of guns. Rifles, handguns, even grenades. Some it ex-military, some of it smuggled up from Mexico.

But where Tex had opened his bag, the buyer’s suitcase remained closed. Tex’s eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Don’t play games with me. Open the fucking bag. The hardware is all here.”

The buyer swallowed, looking unsure and nervous for the first time since they’d turned up. He looked around at the guys either side of him, as if he didn’t know what to do.

Eli’s throat constricted. Something didn’t seem right. The way these guys were acting all of a sudden...it was giving him a bad feeling.

“Are you deaf?” Tex snarled. “Show me the goddamn money. Now.”

The buyer held up his hand.

“Okay, okay.”

He set the suitcase down on the ground and knelt in front of it, before hesitating once more. By now Eli knew something was up.

The buyer, painfully slowly, popped open the clasp on the suitcase. Tex leaned forward eagerly, his greed overshadowing his usual natural caution. As he did so, Eli caught a movement in his peripheral vision.

One of the buyer’s hands was moving to his waist, slowly, trying not to attract any attention.

Despite the heat, Eli’s blood turned to ice in his veins. He could see the gun, tucked into the guy’s waistband.

“Tex!” he screamed. “It’s a setup! He’s got a gun!”

From that moment on, it was as if everything moved in slow motion - but Eli, even years later, could recall every last little detail.

How Tex’s head had snapped up, his eyes narrowing. How he’d lifted the suitcase and flung it with all his strength at the guy going for his gun. How that guy had been struck in the face, blood spraying from his mouth as he crumpled to the floor.

Tex and Shank had turned and run immediately, preferring to escape with their hides intact than worry about the guns or the money. Eli had reacted a split second later than the two more experienced men, and ended up eating their dust as the three of them raced back toward their bikes, parked in the shade of a nearby Joshua tree.

Then the fateful words that confirmed everything, ringing out from behind them.

“Stop! This is the police! Do not try to evade capture. Raise your hands above your head or we WILL fire on you!”

Tex and Shank hadn’t even spared a glance backwards, but Eli couldn’t resist. The men who were still standing all had handguns raised, aimed at the three of them. Somehow Eli wanted to stop, to turn around and explain how it was all just a mix-up, a misunderstanding.

But he couldn’t do that.

So he kept on running, legs pumping, heart pounding, breath ragged in the searing heat. The three bikes were getting closer and closer - if he could just reach his, he could get away. He could hide, lay low for a while, wait for this all to blow over and then get out of this game, find something less risky to do with his life.

Eli could have sworn that he
felt
the first bullet whizz past his head; he certainly heard the crack of the shot as the undercover police opened fire. A moment afterwards three more shots rang out - *crack* *crack* *crack*.

Puffs of sand were thrown up where the bullets just narrowly missed and hit the ground either side of him. All Eli could focus on were the bikes, so close now, so close.

Tex and Shank reached theirs first, throwing themselves onto the big machines. Eli was just a few yards away now - he was going to make it, he was going to get away!

And then it happened.

Eli was running so fast, and so focused on the bikes and his salvation, that he didn’t see the rock that tripped him. Searing pain exploded from his ankle and shot up his leg. It was pure agony.

At the same moment, Tex shouted in shock as a bullet hit his bike, tearing a ragged rent in the gleaming metallic body. Fuel began to leak from the hole, pouring down the bike and dripping into the sand. Tex saw what had happened, and looked up to meet Eli’s eyes.

The shouts from the police were getting closer and closer as they gave chase. They were gaining fast, and there were only moments to spare now.

Tex jumped off his bike and clambered onto Eli’s.

Eli was doing his best to struggle to his feet, but he was too slow. The pain was immense.

“Tex!” Eli screamed. “Help me up! There’s still time!”

His leader’s eyes narrowed as he judged the distance of the men behind them. He shrugged nonchalantly.

“Sorry kid. C’ya around.”

He turned the key and Eli’s bike roared to life with a throaty growl. Tex didn’t even spare another glance at his young protégé as he tore off into the desert after Shank, the powerful bike speeding away easily and quickly.

Eli was speechless. How could Tex just leave him here like that? He’d always known that the Sons of Flame leader was ruthless and cold, but he always talked about brotherhood and solidarity. About how you never leave a brother behind.

That was Eli’s last thought as he slipped into unconsciousness, the pain of his shattered ankle finally overcoming the adrenaline coursing through his veins.

Tex and the Sons of Flame had betrayed him, abandoned him.

 

*****

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