Torched: Afterburn (Iron Serpents Motorcycle Club Book 2) (16 page)

Yeah, he’d been old enough to know better than to put his life in the hands of a man who looked like he’d done time in Rikers. But despite the tatts and a hunting knife hanging from his belt, there was a real kindness in Buddha’s eyes even back then. Torch remembered staring at him for at least a full minute, trying to decide whether to hop on or run for his life, but in the end he went with his gut. Not once had he regretted it.

Buddha didn’t just help, he gave Torch a brand new life
.
Asking nothing in return, he gave a strange kid a place to sleep and took him under his wing. He fed him, clothed him, and brought him to the shop every day so the brothers could teach him how to fix up cars and bikes. Until he turned twenty-one, Torch carried around a fake ID, also courtesy of the club. At first it was so he wouldn’t get taken into foster care if the cops ever asked for identification, but after he turned eighteen and was allowed to prospect, it became more for underage drinking with the boys. Buddha and the club had loved him, protected him, and bled for him. If that wasn’t the definition of family, he didn’t know what was.

And they were fifty miles away.

Shit, how the fuck had he ended up halfway to the Nebraska border?

Spotting a gas station up ahead, he decided to pull over for an energy drink. He’d gotten a second wind after going at it with Buddha, but exhaustion was starting to set in again. There was no better place than the open road, especially at night, but what the hell was he doing out here when he desperately needed sleep and had more than eight hours to spare for the first time in days?

After buying a drink and tossing it back in five seconds flat, Torch felt his phone vibrate. He pulled it out and saw Buddha’s number on the screen.

He picked up and grumbled, “Hey, man.”

“Where you at, son?”

“Sterling. What’s going on?”

“Nothing, I just wanted to… uh…” Buddha stammered. “Listen, I’m gonna give it a couple more weeks.”

“The meds and chemo?”

“Yeah,” Buddha muttered. “You were right, brother, we’re fighters. Giving up now and leaving you boys to clean up my mess like a fucking coward isn’t what I want my legacy to be.”

Wait. What? Torch had to pull the phone away from his ear and double-check the time because this was a first, Buddha had
never
backed down this quick. On anything. “What’s the catch?” he asked suspiciously.

Buddha sighed. “Look, I’ll do it for two more weeks so whoever wants to get tested can do that. I know why you keep refusing to give me your vote for retirement and I get it. So, we’ll do it your way. If there’s no match, at least you’ll know you did everything you could. And hey, maybe I’ll get lucky. Either way, I’m willing to suffer through the side effects a little longer to give you some peace of mind if I end up kicking the bucket.”

“You sure that’s the only reason?” Torch asked. His explanation made sense but there was something Buddha was holding back. The man always slept on big decisions, he didn’t all of a sudden have a change of heart from one hour to the next.

“Son, what the fuck?” Buddha asked incredulously. “I’m doing what you want and you’re still giving me shit?”

“Sorry,” Torch muttered, shaking it off. It didn’t matter why he’d changed his mind, just that he had. “I’m really glad to hear all this, man. I’ll call the other chapters and figure out where they can go to get tested.”

“Only if people
want
to,” Buddha reiterated. “I’m not expecting or begging for it. And Liv offered to handle the logistics, she’s good with all that.”

There it was, the missing link. “You told her?”

“Yeah. She saw you tear out of the clubhouse all pissed off, figured you’d tell her anyway.”

“So my old lady changed your mind—”

“I told you, I realized you were right,” Buddha cut him off.

Yeah, okay, whatever he fucking said. “She didn’t blackmail you, did she?”

Buddha chuckled. “Did she blackmail me? With what?”

“I don’t know, she does that computer magic and finds out all kinds of shit.” Why was he so damn paranoid? Christ, he’d be certifiable before the month was up. “Never mind, I’m just fucking happy you reconsidered.”

“You should get your ass home and catch some sleep, Torch. You’re on edge.”

“Yeah, I know,” he muttered. “Alright, brother, you get some rest too. We’re gonna help you beat this shit.”

“I hope you’re right, son. Good night.”

He hung up and glanced at his reflection in the gas station window. Jesus, the bags under his eyes were starting to take over his face. Yeah, wrapping himself around his woman and sleeping for more than a couple hours sounded real good.

As he mounted his bike and started it up, it dawned on him that Liv had actually done him two favors. Whatever she’d said to Buddha had obviously worked, but her offer to handle looking for a bone marrow match would also keep her busy. He wasn’t sure whether she’d finished up her hacking gig, but the more shit she had to focus on, the less he’d have to worry about her sleuthing instincts inconveniently kicking in.

Three days.

That was how long he had to keep worrying about every little fucking thing that came out of his mouth whenever they were together.

Gauge and Zed had promised him their votes on the matter of asking Liv for a loan, provided it was obvious they’d come up short on Cora’s two hundred grand at the ten-day mark. They would, he already knew they would. They were out of shit to sell—except guns, but that wasn’t an option—and it would take way too many bodies and extra runs to make another hundred grand in a week without closing up their legit businesses. Also not an option.

It wasn’t like he wanted to stick out his hand and beg his old lady for cash either, but the cost to his ego would be a lot less than the cost to the club if they failed to pay up. Hell, making their debt a priority had probably already cost them their chance of finding the assholes who’d robbed them in the first place. Biff hadn’t had any luck tracking down the coins or van, and the assholes had now had a week to totally cover their tracks.

But there wasn’t a point in dwelling or getting himself worked up now, was there? The majority had spoken and he’d had no choice but to go along with it.

He just hoped they hadn’t made an even bigger mess to clean up.

: : : :

Except for the light coming from their muted TV in the living room, the house was completely dark when he got there. Eyeing his gorgeous wife passed out on the couch, he quietly pulled off his boots and hung up his cut. She looked so peaceful, so opposite of how he felt inside, that his eyes couldn’t tear themselves away. He moved in, mesmerized by her soft lips and the flickering, colorful light bouncing off her silky skin.

He knew the divide had been all his doing, but fuck, he missed the shit out of her.

She was propped up on the armrest wearing a slinky, white tank top and gray sweats, unknowingly making his dick twitch with lust for those perfect curves. The woman could rock denim, lace, and leather, but with those outfits came the tough vixen act. It was her downtime style he loved the best. Be it baggy pants with a tight top, or one of his over-sized shirts with a thong, her outside matched the inside whenever it was just the two of them relaxing. She was unpretentious, easygoing, and—bonus—sexy as fuck. He’d said it before and he’d say it again, there wasn’t a luckier motherfucker on the goddamn planet. Livia Larter was a gift from the gods and he’d fight to the death if any of them ever tried to take her back.

He leaned down and slowly pulled an open notebook and tablet out from under her hand. Studying her jottings, he recognized them as a list of their twenty chapter locations. Each had multiple clinic names and contact numbers written next to them.

How did she do this shit? It had only been a couple hours since he’d stormed out of the clubhouse and she’d talked to Buddha.

And why did he suddenly feel the need to prove something? Prove what, he had no idea, just… something.

Liv’s brain was just as big of a turn-on as her body, but in that moment, the weirdest fucking wave of insecurity hit him. Clever broads like his old lady were blessings in disguise, they could breathe life into a broken man but could also be downright deadly to the lovesick idiot who thought he could tie one down. And pity the fool like himself who
knew
he couldn’t, but would die fucking trying anyway.

Truth be told, Torch was still—probably more so now—struggling with how to balance his controlling nature and her independent one. By MC standards he was being a total bitch just admitting it, because men were supposed to be, you know, fucking
men
. But outside of foreplay, that macho shit didn’t work on women like the one he was staring at, it just reminded them of all the headaches they could save themselves by leaving. Their power was in self-awareness, in the confidence of knowing they could survive anything and do it alone. Demanding subservience was like trying to stick reins on a wild horse, you were just asking to get kicked in the damn face. Intimidation, threats, they didn’t cower to any of it, they saw it as a goddamn challenge to be won.

Fuck that. Exhausted or not, he’d always find the energy to battle his woman on any level to remind her of where— and to who—she belonged.

Pulling on Liv’s legs, he slid her down to her back on the couch and knelt over her. He preemptively grabbed her wrists as her eyes flew open and she bolted upright, but she was quick to regain her wits and smiled instead of swinging.

“Hey, babe,” she cooed. “What time is it?”

“Doesn’t matter,” he growled. “No talking, okay?”

“Torch—”

He pressed two fingers to her lips then replaced them with his own, inhaling her sweet breath as their tongues met. Was that chocolate and whiskey he tasted? Jesus, whatever it was, he wanted more. He buried his fingers in her hair and savored her soft and warm mouth.

Fuck, so goddamn soft.

He had no idea how long that went on for, only feeling the need to reposition himself when his dick’s accommodations got to be too cramped. His eyes glued to hers the whole time, he pulled back onto his knees and yanked his shirt off, then stood up and dropped his jeans. As requested, she didn’t say anything, she just bit down on that pillowy fucking bottom lip and stared.

He swung his knee around to the back of the couch and flipped her over below him. Sliding his hands between her stomach and the cushion, he reached for the drawstring to her sweats and untied it. The pants slid down her fantastic ass with a tug. She bent her legs up so he could get them off the rest of the way, while his mouth made a beeline for her round cheeks and bit down. She moaned and dropped her head, her shoulders tensing up.

He wanted to be inside her,
needed
to be inside her. They couldn’t connect through words out of club code, but nothing could stop his body from doing the talking for him.

He climbed over her slowly, leaving a trail of kisses and nibbles from ass to neck. Then, slipping his hand under her chin, he turned her head and leaned down to get another taste of those lips.

His hand slid back down, caressing every inch of skin to her hip before dipping between her thighs. He spread her leg off the couch, before reaching under her stomach again and nudging her hips upward. Looking back over her shoulder, she lifted her ass in the air and arched her back.

Fuck mountains and oceans, this stunning view was all he craved. And he could take it anywhere he went.

A guttural moan escaped his throat as he spread her ass open. His desperate cock positioned at her slit, he ran his hand between her cheeks and down to that decadent fucking pussy.

With a thrust and a groan, her tight core swallowed him whole and sent shivers running up his spine. He draped his body over hers and hooked his forearm under her hips to keep them nice and high.

But he wasn’t there to give her slow and sweet, he was out to prove a point he hadn’t figured out yet. With every thrust, he went deeper and harder and faster, reveling in the sweat beginning to coat their skin. He clung to her lower belly, so tight he swore he could feel the head of his dick pressing up against his palm.

Liv’s moans soon matched his in intensity and volume. She was putting in the work, riding his dick and rolling her hips like a fucking porn star. But nothing in the way her body responded suggested she was faking anything like one. Her back glistened, from her mouth came grunts of pleasure, and the walls of her dripping cunt started closing in even tighter around his throbbing shaft. He could tell she was biting her tongue to keep from screaming out, but his woman seemed to be down for following orders and didn’t say a word.

It felt good, so fucking mind-blowingly good, but he didn’t want her doing any of the work; he wanted her pinned down and immobile, taking whatever he gave.

He uncurled his arm and forced her hips down flat without pulling out, then bunched up the back of her tank top and gripped it as tight as he could to constrict her even more.

Brushing her hair away from her neck and wrapping it around his other hand, he tugged her head back so he could see those jade, green eyes looking back at him. She smiled through pursed lips.