Burning Ember (57 page)

Mav shifts me on his lap. He licks his bottom lip after taking a sip from his beer then places it on the table. After sweeping my hair away from my shoulder, he searches my face. “How do you dance then?”

Shrugging, I say, “I don’t know. Just differently.”

“Like ballet?” I shake my head. “You gonna show me?”

Lily claps excitedly and stands. “Please. You promised to dance when you were drunk enough.”

“I may never be drunk enough, Lily,” I whine. “I don’t want to make a fool of myself.”

“Why not?” Taz looks straight at Bodie. “It’s what all the kids are doin’ tonight.”

“C’mon, ginger snack, no one’s gonna laugh at you,” Bodie pleads.

“Yeah, they’ll be too busy laughin’ at numbnuts here.” Taz points his toothpick at Bodie.

Mav nudges me. “Babe, show me. I wanna see.”

I glare at the table around me, but no one relents. The pressure builds as they keep trying to coax me out there. Finally, like the girl I am who always wanted to fit in with the cool kids, I succumb to peer pressure. Groaning, I reluctantly stand, linking my hands with Mav’s as I do. I attempt to tug him to his feet, but he doesn’t budge.

“Aren’t you coming out there with me?”

The sides of his mouth lift and he slowly shakes his head. “In a minute, but first I wanna watch. He slides his free hand up my inner thigh and pulls me close. I melt and fall a little against him. I have to place my hand on his shoulder to keep my balance. His fingers draw lazy circles on my thigh, increasing the dampness between my legs.

Still confused, I ask, “You want to watch me dance with Bodie?”

“Fuck, no. He touches you and I’ll cut his hands off.” He shoots said biker a warning glare.

Lily grabs my hand. “I’ll dance with you. He won’t cut my hands off for touching you, will you, Mav?” Mav’s smile grows into a mischievous grin. He looks over at Goose and they both pick up their beers and try to hide their pleased expressions.

“Oh, jeez. Men,” Lily mutters and starts pulling me away.

Against my better judgment, I end up on the dance floor, and once there, my gaze anxiously sweeps the room. Bikers, some I know, some I don’t, watch us. A few even turn fully for a better view.

Chills flare up my arms and unease fills me.

It’s one thing to dance for Mav, but quite another to perform for a room full of horny, drunk bikers.

I try to retreat, but Lily’s grip tightens like she’s ready for me to bolt. She shakes me a little to get my attention. “Relax and focus on me. I’m right here and Mav’s the only one watching you.”

“Uhmmm . . . no, he’s not.” I look left and right.

“That’s what you tell yourself. It works. Trust me.”

I throw her a sardonic look saying, ‘
yeah, that is so not going to work.’

I’ve only danced at home with my mom, Sundown, and Will. It’s kind of a family tradition. But we always danced at home, behind closed doors, not anywhere anyone else could see. At least, I haven’t.

When I was younger, my mom had this mix tape, and often, out of the blue, she’d put it on and crank up the radio. It opened with “Peace Train” by Cat Stevens, followed by similar seventies hits. We’d dance around the house for hours. Sometimes my mom would stop the tape before the last song played and those were the best days. Other times she’d let it play through, and when, “Maggie May” by Rod Stewart came on she’d lose her steam, close her eyes, sing softly, and eventually start to cry. After it ended, she’d leave us to retreat alone into her room.

I asked Sundown once, why out of all the names she could have picked for her baby, she chose that one. Willow Maggie May Shaw. Especially since it was a bad memory for the both of us, and it hurt too much to listen to that song after she left. Sunny answered, “Because it was her favorite.”

Ironically, it was Will and the happiness she brought into my life that got me dancing again. Her birth and my love for her healed the wound left behind by my mother leaving.

Snapping me away from the memories of my past, Lily pulls me a little closer and holds my hands. She begins to dance. Her movements are small and slow. She sashays her hips and raises our hands. Her cobalt eyes never leave mine and encourage me to give in and move like she does.

I fight it at first. My discomfort at being the center of attention is winning out over my love for music and my natural instinct to appreciate it by moving freely.

The song playing is “Iris” by The Goo Goo Dolls. It has deep, meaningful lyrics and a heady rhythm. I find it nearly impossible not to get pulled in. All too soon, the song lulls me, calms me, and works its magic.

I do as Lily says, and think only of Mav. It may be the alcohol, but I swear I can sense his eyes on me and the desire behind them. I cling to that tether we share and block out the crowd around me.

After a moment, the awkwardness fades and the emotion the song evokes takes hold like a river as it streams through me. My eyes close. The room falls away and my body starts to sway.

I let go. Relax. And just feel.

Lily’s fingers disappear from mine, and free I reach up to take the pins from my hair, hold it up high and away from the heated skin of my neck. Sex is in the air and the sensation of it swirls around me like smoke, tempts me to let my hands roam over other areas of my body that I’d never normally touch in front of a room full of people.

As I let go of my hair, the weight of it settles on my shoulders. My hips circle and my knees bend. My hands slide down my body, over my chest, and back up to my neck.

MAVERICK

I don’t have the words to explain what witnessing Ember and Lily dancing together does to me. The erotic fantasy tunneling through my mind is one best locked away to ponder on later.

By the guilty look on Goose’s face, I’d say he’s thinking the same thing.

I fist my beer and fight the urge to knock the nasty thoughts that star my girl from his head.

“Don’t glare at me. You’re the one that sent them out there together.”

He’s right of course.
What the hell I was thinking?

The sight of Ember and Lily dancing together quickly draws more male attention than either of us are comfortable with. Simultaneously we stand and move just off the dance floor. Near enough to intercede and stop a brother from touching our property if need be.

Yeah, most of the HOCs here know who the girls belong to, but the same can’t be said for the Greenbacks. And Smoke, although Ember’s been in my arms the entire night, clearly hasn’t gotten the message. He’s been sitting in the darkest corner of the room and showing blatant interest in what’s mine, which is really starting to piss me off.

As Ember’s nervousness begins to fade, she closes her eyes and lets go.

I knew from the day I saw her play soccer with the kids, she was a free spirit. But to what extent didn’t hit home until now. She moves in such a way it looks like art, and instantly puts me under her spell.

Her movements are raw and full of emotion. Completely unfiltered.

Seeing her in leather, both the boots and the skirt, has had me rock hard all night. But witnessing her lose herself, touch herself, swing and dip her hips is the sweetest kind of sexual torture. All I can think about is throwing her over my shoulder and carrying her off to fuck good and hard until we’re both spent.

Prying my gaze from her, I see a few men struggling with the same thought.

Fuck, they better not be thinking what I’m thinking.

That those hips were made for my hands to hold. That those parted pink lips were made to be kissed by my lips; and as soon as I get this woman in a bed, she’s going to move like this as she rides my cock, and when I lose myself deep inside her, it’ll be the sweetest kind of heaven for a sinner like me.

Stepping forward, I take hold of her. Put an end to their musings. I’ve already claimed this beautiful creature for my own, and I’ll be the only man losing himself inside her tonight and every night after this one.

EMBER

The last chorus hits at the same time that strong hands grip my hips. I don’t need to open my eyes to know it’s him. The heat and friction my body shares with Mav’s are immediately recognizable.

He whispers the lyrics of the chorus into my ear, and his hot breath sends tingles breaking out across my skin.

The words echo through me.

I want Mav to know who I am. I need him to
really
see me and accept me. Want me. Love me despite my scars, my past, and my fears.

Opening my eyes, I let my hands travel up his chest then link my fingers behind his neck.

The passion circling in Mav’s topaz gaze is intoxicating. As he wraps his arms around me, he pulls my body so close that no air exists between us. With my heels, I’m merely a few inches shorter, and it’s nice. Better than nice. It’s perfect. We’re chest to chest. Our lips are a breath away, and he’s taunting mine with their proximity.

Together we move. Dance as if we’ve done this a million times before, except the yearning igniting between us tells a different story.

That this is the first of many dances. That the hunger we feel for each other is new and all-consuming and neither of us feels like we’ll ever get enough.

Because it will never be enough.

I could never get enough of this. Of him.

Moving forward, I let my breath tease his skin. His neck, his ear lobe, and finally his inner ear. “I need you,” I whisper. A shudder jolts through him, and his erection hardens further against my stomach.

“God, Doll, I need you too.”

One of his hands moves to my ass, and his fingers grab onto my thigh where my skirt ends. The other sinks into my nape. He cups the back of my head, and seals his mouth in a punishing kiss over mine.

He’s taking control. Showing me, I am his Doll. And he’ll move me and take me any way he wants me.

I submit and kiss him as ardently as he kisses me.

When the song ends, he simply lifts me and I lock my ankles at his lower back. Ready and desperate for more of what only he can give me.

We’re only haunted by things we don’t fully understand.

EMBER

The room is a mere ten feet away. But it might as well be a mile as far as we we’re concerned. Neither one of us can stand to go any further. Evident by the way Mav slams my back against the hallway wall and attacks my mouth with untamed ferocity.

There’s only teeth, tongue, and sheer power as he works his lips over mine.

I return his brutal kiss, and duel his tongue with my own. Truly lost to this wild and intoxicating need spiraling through me. My hands are everywhere, kneading into his back one minute, his ass the next, physically begging him to grant me no mercy.

Breaking away, we gasp for breath. Unable to hold out any longer, I plead, “Mav, please.”

“Jesus, Doll. Don’t beg. I’ll fucking come right here.”

I push his shirt out of the way and claw impatiently at his belt. His strong fingers, which up until this moment have been digging into my thighs, suddenly hike my skirt up to my waist.

Yes!

The flames of lust circle higher.

“Hold on to me.” I lock my hands behind his neck. He braces one hand against the wall and helps me free him from his jeans. Then I feel him, the tip of his erection brushing the outside of my underwear, his fingers pulling my panties to the side as he lines himself up.