Storm: (Blood Legion MC) (Bad Boys of X-Ops Book 3) (23 page)

Family, Food, Friendship

WE ALL ASKED MAMERE what we could do to help. We all got the receiving end of her wooden spoon. She bustled around while I felt like a dumbstick with nothing to do. Blaize watched in fascination, Angel with a contented smile on his face.

“She lives way out here by herself?” Blaize asked quietly.

“I bought her a place closer to town, but she likes to pretend I neglect her,” I announced loudly.

“What I do in town?” She fussed at the old wood-burning stove. “I got this land, the Lord, and all the love a woman can take.” She laughed raucously. “But I do like to shop.”

Still chuckling, she shooed me away. “Go’n start the big fire, Nash! We g’on feast
to
night.”

For the remainder of the afternoon, Mamere ordered everyone around just like Blaize did when she was in the war room. Those two were probably friggin’ soulmates or something. Blaize and Angel took to her easily, doing all she bid, and Mamere was totally in her element, surrounded by new folk she immediately considered her kin.

By the time evening fell, we sat around the snapping, crackling fire pit I’d built outside. We ate from heaping, steaming platters of andouille sausage, a big bubbling pot of jambalaya, and frog legs more succulent than fried chicken.

Angel and I drank beer and the whisky I’d brought, but Mamere swigged from her jam jar of clear—petroleum-grade—moonshine. Her own special brew.

Blaize took one sip, and I thought smoke was gonna blow out of her ears. Her eyes growing saucer-wide, she exhaled like a fire-breathing dragon.

Mamere whacked her on the back while Angel and I laughed our asses off.

“You could’ve warned me!” Blaize fanned her hand in front of her mouth.

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“And how did you know better, Angel?” she asked.

“Any good L’isiana boy got enough brains not to drink what’s been brewed up in the backwoods.”

Ma
m
e
re hooted merrily, making a big show of taking a large gulp of the moonshine, swallowing it without so much as a blink of her eyes.

“You skinny, honeychile.” Mamere’s silver hair shined by moonlight and firelight. “Like a chicken wid da bones et clean by a polecat, Nash.”

“Mamere, if you call this skinny I’d hate to think what you’d call me when I weighed under two hundred pounds.”

Blaize squeezed a hand appreciatively around my bulging bicep.

“Why then you’d be just like this one here.” She pointed at Angel. “And he scrawny.” She cackled heartily.

Then she placed wizened hand against Angel’s clean-shaven jaw, patting him lightly. “I am fit to explode with the happiness now you’re finally here,
Ange
.”

He brought her hand down to hold between his own. “I am too, Miss Colette.”

“Oh, you can’t be callin’ me that. None of y’all. Ma
m
e
re. And proud of it.” She sat up regally, smiling.

Blaize pecked me on the cheek, squeezing my knee.

I turned to her, the corners of my eyes almost cracking from smiling so much.

“I’m just going to walk off some of that jambalaya,” she said.

“’Kay,
cher
. Don’t go too far?” I patted her rump when she stood up.

Leaning away from the table, I watched her move off into the shadows of trees toward the bayou.

Mamere caught me grinning, and then she got that wicked twinkle in her eyes.

“Fried okra, Nash?” she asked.

“No okra. You know I can’t stand it.” My smile turned into a full-body shudder.

“
Hmmph
. Always did give you the trumpets.”

Oh, great. Potty talk from my gran.

The only respite came in the fact Blaize couldn’t hear Mamere heckling me.

I sat with Angel and Mamere awhile longer—long enough for Mamere to become well lubricated and for them to start talking about Maman. I took care of the plates, cleaned up the scraps from supper, made sure the fire was banked.

“You mind if I bunk in the lean-to tonight?” I came out of the cabin, holding Blaize’s and my packs in my hand.

“I ’spect you’ll be all right. Stars out. Bayou’s quiet-like.” Mamere smoked her cheroot, watching me light a lantern.

“Make sure she gets to bed,
yeah
?” I leaned close to Angel. “My old room’s on the left behind the kitchen. You sleep there.”

Angel stood, placing his beer on the tree stump beside him.

He pulled me to him and thumped my back. “Thanks,
brah
.” He sucked in a noisy breath. “Thank you for giving me family.”

“Back atcha.” I eased away, meeting his eyes with a firm nod he returned.

I swooped over my
grand-
mè
re
, kissing her cheek. “”Night, ’Mere.”

“G’night, Nash. You treat that lady right, y’here?”

“I intend to.”

****

I checked on the old lean-to. Still sturdy enough. Three sides and a solid roof. A lush carpet of moss and pinestraw to bed down on. A shelf for the lantern, too. Opening our packs, I pulled out two sleeping bags and zipped them together. For the first of October, the night was gentle, the air sweet, the moon barely cloaked by a mist of pale gray clouds.

Bullfrogs chorused from the banks of the bayou and night birds cawed from the swamp grasses and cypress stumps. I heard the water, moving in soft susurrations, as I strode down the length of the dock.

Ambling up behind Blaize, who sat at the end with her legs dangling over, I prodded her with the toe of my boot.

“Watch out for dem gators, girl.”

I laughed when she reached back to grab my leg. “You watch it, or I’ll throw you into them.”

Sitting behind her, I settled her in the
V
of my thighs. “C’mere,
cher
. You’ll get cold.”

I drew a blanket around my shoulders and crossed it over in front of her.

“Not with you. You’re like a living furnace.” She pressed back until her ass firmly nestled against my groin.

Nuzzling the side of her neck, I murmured, “
Mmm
. That’s just ’cause I make you so hot.”

Shifting her head against my shoulder, she kissed my jaw, working her way to my chin. Licking and softly biting the black stubble just growing back after I’d shaved off the heavier whiskers.

“You do make me hot, Storm,” she whispered.

That’s good to know.

“I can make you hotter,” I growled out, my hand on the move to cup her pussy.

“Not letting you get me naked out here where
dem gators
could attack me.”

My head craned back, and I laughed from deep in my chest.

I contented myself with holding her, enjoying the peace of the night, watching the bayou roll on in front of us.

A night heron winged up from the low-hanging branch of a cypress, its feathers fanning out.

“What happens to Angel?” I nuzzled the crook of Blaize’s soft neck again.

“What do you want to happen?”

“No WITSEC. And I don’t want him on trial, don’t want him testifying.”

“Okay.”

“Really?” I reared up to look at her.

She tilted her face toward me. “Storm, you honestly still take me for such a hardass?”

“Soft ass. Sweetest ass. Wanna fuck this ass.” My voice thundered low, and I squeezed her rump with one hand pressed between us.

She swallowed rapidly. “We were talking about Angel?”

“Not his ass I hope.”
Hoarse growl
.

Laughing, she sputtered, “God, Storm.”

I chuckled, too. Crossing my arms around her, I slid my lips against hers. Taking her moan, her open wet heat, her softly rolling tongue into my mouth.

“Damn, but I love you. Love you so much, Blaize.”

“Angel?” she asked on a broken whisper after I released her lips.

“I said stop callin’ me that!” I grinned like a fool when she collapsed in fits of laughter.

“How am I suppose to have a serious conversation with you?” She tried to look stern.

Too bad her eyes were bright-lit blue and her smile perfect, her lips lush and her body anchored against mine.

Sobering, I skimmed my fingers through her wild mane of hair. “Angel can start again. The Legion is his. Let him run it. New recruits. Legit. With Solomon. They gotta stick together. I don’t trust anyone else to look after him.”

“Except for Mamere?”

“Yeah. Her too. Now they have each other.”

“Was that your plan all along, Storm?”

“Tell you the truth, my only plan at the beginning was getting into your panties.”

Turning, she straddled my lap. “Which you did, with remarkable ease.”

Her fingers floated to the back of my neck, and she gripped my hair, twisting it.

I grunted. “Wouldn’t say you were easy,
cher
. Have you met you?”

Her words whisper-licked against my ear. “I’m not that bad.”

“Didn’t say you were bad. But I
do
wanna do bad things to you.” Grabbing her hips, I pumped up, my hard cock almost welded inside my jeans.

“
Uh uhn
.” Blaize eased off of me. “Not done talking yet.”

“Talking’s overrated.” On all fours, I prowled toward her.

“Storm.”

Hoisted over her, I dropped my hips, grinding against her. “
Un unh
. You can’t use your
Mizz Cahmichael
voice with me out here.”

She whimpered as I teased her with the erect swollen rod of my cock.

“I was going to ask if you’re always so protective of your people?”

“Over you, most of all.” I lashed my lips against her neck, sucking her pulse point until I probably gave her a hickey.

Her hands grasped my ass, pulling me tighter, but I jumped to my feet.

“You up for roughing it tonight?” Didn’t want to be heard fucking her in the small cabin with Mamere on one side of us, Angel on the other.

“With you? Always.” She placed her hand in mine, and I drew her up against me. “That’s how I like it.”

“You sure?” I peered down at her. “Because sometimes I get carried away with you. Don’t wanna scare you after what happened—”

With her hands framing my face, she stood on her tiptoes. Her sweet breath rushed across my mouth.

“I love that side of you. Rough and raw.” Her fingertips glanced off my chest, danced down to my abs, played with the low waist of my jeans. “I’m always in charge. Of my career. Of other people. Responsible for their lives.” She wrapped an arm around my neck. “I’m always the strong one. With you I don’t have to be. Don’t want to be.” She kissed me with a lush, sumptuous sucking sound. “Can you handle that?”

What in the Fuck is Glamping?

“OH FUCK YES.”

“Thought so.” Her fingers trailed down my arm, and she grabbed my hand. “I want you to ravish me, Storm.”

Hot animal desire dragged a groan from my throat.

At the end of the dock, I pointed her toward the lean-to.

She halted in her heated
hurry up and fuck me
tracks. “That doesn’t look like glamping.”

“I fuckin’ hope not.” I shuddered.

“We’re sleeping there?”

“Don’t worry,
cher
. The only thing that’s gonna be howlin’ at the moon tonight is you when I make you come on my cock.”

She hissed in a breath then hurried on.

That’s more like it
.

At the lean-to, she took in the dim lantern, the sleeping bags I’d arranged. No flowers, no music, no masks in place.

Just us.

“Rough and raw, like you said, Blaize.” My fingers glided over her face, and I brushed her lips with mine. “Undress for me.”

Blaize shivered, and it wasn’t from the cool night air. I stood, arms folded over my chest, watching her every move. She removed her jacket. Toed off her boots. Peeled off her socks. Advancing closer, she watched my eyes—dilated, possibly almost black with greed—unbuttoning her shirt until it rippled open. Revealing tits in a white cotton bra.

I rubbed my hand across my mouth. “More. All of it.”

Her breath hitched. Tossing back her hair, she unzipped the jeans, shimmied them down, down, all the way off. Moonlight tracked over her skin, washing her in glowing white that shined off her creamy skin, her long legs, her curvy body. That amazing red hair.

Biting her lip, she unhooked the bra, dropped it to the ground. Her tits bounced, nipples like pink candy, high and tight.

I brushed the backs of my hands over the high crests, looking into her eyes. “Panties too.”

Bending forward, Blaize rolled them off, her mouth parallel to my dick strangled inside my jeans.

She stood, a wildly hot vision in the middle of this bayou heaven.

She yanked at my shirt. “Your turn.”

I dropped my leather, kicked my boots away, pushed off my socks. I tackled my shirt, throwing it to the ground.

“Oh fuck
yeeeessss
.” Blaize laid roaming hands on my chest, feeling the hard tough muscles, twisting my nipples, playing with the soft arrowed mat of hair. “Turn around.”

After I pivoted, she plastered her sexy body against my back, the peaks of her breasts, the heat of her cunt, the silken warmth of womanly flesh.

She reached around me, whipped my belt off, lashed it to the ground.

My muscles bunched. I grunted and jerked forward. Her whisperish touch disappeared.

Circling to my front, Blaize traced short fingernails over the padded muscles of my ribs, the lean cuts of my hips.

I watched her through hooded eyes.

Naked.

Sexy.

All bronzed hair.

A lioness.

She crouched down. Opened my jeans. Sucked and licked my cock as it appeared. The cool night coalesced with her hot worship. She nestled her lips against my balls, stroking me in a pulsing grip that almost made me jet off.

“Stop,” I ordered.

With a tempting little lick at my swelling cockhead—swirling my dripping precome—she slinked to her feet.

I stepped back, caressing her entire body with my gaze.

“I want every part of you, Blaize.
Cher
.” I beckoned her to me with a hooked finger. “Come.”

Moving together.

Bare feet.

Bare ground.

Bare bodies.

Night air . . .

“I want your body.” On my knees, I pulled her slippery slit against my mouth.

Eating her, devouring her, running my tongue into her tight hollow and tasting her excited pink clit, I held her thighs,
held her to my mouth.

Kissing the insides of her legs, pushing her down to the sleeping bags, rising on top of her, I placed my mouth over one pebbled nipple. “I want your trust.”

Suckling her deep, I lifted the arch of her still-orgasming body in my hands.

She clawed me back. Beat her heels at my ass. Tossed her wet, wet,
wet
cunt against my heavy cock.

“Want all of you.” Moving fast, I rolled down between her legs, lifted her thighs, and savored the sight of her, pushed high and open for me.

I sealed my lips against her hot pussy, lapping her, slurping at her. Her body arched and shivered, and she shouted when I thrust inside of her with two fingers. Fucking into her, using my hand to open her, I licked down and down to the rosy bud of her ass.

My tongue swiped against her, suckling the dripping juice running between her beautiful cheeks.

“Storm?” She gasped.

Tickling her shiny little hole with my tongue, I murmured against her. “And I want this too. Want to make it good for you.”

I kept slipping my fingers in and out of her soaked slit, softly circling her sweet forbidden flesh with wet flicks and small presses. Tunneling inside the tightest heat, listening to her husky, sultry moans, I pushed my face against Blaize’s gorgeous ass and took her deep with my mouth.

Her belly fluttered and her thighs quivered. She laughed and whimpered when I rolled her legs down to the sleeping bag.

With her arms flung wide, she scissored her legs together. “
Mmm
. That was dirty.”

“It was sexy as fuck.” I clenched my jaw, kneeling in front of her.

I stroked the throbbing meat of my cock, running my fingers up to the swollen head, spreading the clear copious precome.

She gasped, her nipples beading even tighter. “
That
is sexy as fuck.”

“Want it?” Spreading her legs in a
V
, I slapped the girth of my shaft against her shiny pussy. “Want my cock?”

“Yes. Oh, God yes!”

With one mighty thrust, I drilled all the way into her.

My grunt crashed with the sound of her shout, and she gripped me wetly inside.

I pulled back, all the way, just as fast.

She writhed and panted. “Please. Please. Please.”

Pinning her legs higher, I slammed back into her, circled my hips, withdrew.

Leaving her aching and pink and pulsing and panting.

Her hands fisted in the sleeping bag. “Fuck me, Storm. Fuck me!”

Growling low, I leaned on top of her. I grabbed her hands, laced my fingers through hers. That time—my entire body shuddering with restraint—I took my time. Eased into her clutching hot cunt, each hard thick inch at a time.

She came with a wail of my name. When I ripped out of her she screamed even higher.

And I waited. My forearms knotted. My neck corded. Shoulders bunched. My cock pulsing.

Watching her gyrate, her labia engorged and slippery and seeking.

Dipping my cockhead in, I rolled my hips, bringing her hand to the base of my cock.

Dragging out. Dipping in. Watching her drip down her thighs, along my shaft, over my come-filled balls.

Flinging her hand aside, I drove deep inside her and stayed seated to the very mouth of her womb.

Little ripples caressed me cockhead to root, and I gritted my teeth.

Staring down at Blaize as she twisted and moaned, I grabbed her hair. “I want you to beg me.” I licked across her mouth and plunged my tongue inside. “
Own me
.”

“
Fuck me, Storm
!” Her fingers dug into my back, my hips, my ass. “Fuck me! Love me!”

Unleashed from the last of my restraint, I fucked Blaize with a torrent of wild thrusts. Curled around each other, we made love deeply, passionately . . . completely. I arched above her, clasping her hips, burying myself inside her with final flexing strokes. She grabbed my forearms and locked her legs around my ass. Taking me hot, and tight, and through the final aching pleasure.

“Fuck. Blaize!” The words burst from my lips, harsh and raw.

I tangled both hands in her hair, cradled her head, rocked into her a few more times as her voiceless moan melted against my neck.

“Goddamn,
cher
.” Slipping to her side, I held her ass in one hand and squeezed. “I think you fucked the life out of me.”

She rubbed her lips against my jaw. “That’s what you get for making me beg. Next time I might pull a weapon on you.”

“I’m a faster draw.” My eyebrow arched high.

“You wish.”

“No. Really.” Pulling her hand down my body, I filled her palm with my already hardening cock. “See?”

She laughed, nestling closer against me. “Yeah, but what you fire off from this thing isn’t exactly life threatening.”

“
Le petit mort
.” I nipped her neck with my teeth then ran my tongue along her shoulder.

Blaize flipped her hair back with another laugh.

“God, I love that sound.” I drew her legs between mine and slid us inside the joined sleeping bags. “The laughing . . . and the begging.”

“Don’t get used to it.”

“Too late. Already have.”

“Storm—”

“Nope. Don’t even say another word unless it’s how much you love me or you want me to fuck you breathless again.”

“Storm.”

Using my mouth and my tongue, kissing her with all the emotions she pulled to the surface, I quieted her.

When I relinquished her, she watched me with deep and dark hooded eyes. “I do love you, but—”

“This is not where you give me the big brush off.” Bracing up on an elbow, I traced her puffy lips with the tip of my finger. “I’m not having it.”

“Can I just—”

“Yeah. You can
just
promise me things won’t change once we get back to DC. I mean, you can kick my ass all over the war room whenever you need to—which I’m sure’ll be often enough—but I wanna know afterward I’m going home with you, to you. My lover.”

She bit my fingertip, a sly smile spreading her lips. “We’ll see.”

“Bullshit
we’ll see
.” I lay down with an arm beneath my neck, the other one holding Blaize close. “I know. Now go to sleep so I can wake you up and have you again in a couple hours.”

“Yes,
sir
.”