Bash, Volume III (6 page)

“Somehow, in everything that happened before my family sent me away, I started seeing myself as a monster — the type of person who could bash people’s skulls in without remorse. I told my family I was distraught over it, but deep down, I knew the truth.” I sighed and rubbed her back. It was soothing, having someone to hold. “They’d pushed me to it, thought they had the upper hand, and I’d been
happy
when they realized their mistake had just cost them their lives.”

“If that makes you a monster, then I’m one, too. There wasn’t much time for the men I killed to see what was coming, but the last two knew. They didn’t have time to get to their weapons, but they knew.”

And that was my point, but I didn’t tell her that part, yet.

“When I killed Sloane, I assumed you’d never look at me with affection again. You’d seen the monster in me and we’d never be close again.” I’d turned music on before Angelica and Dawg arrived, and I spoke softly now, just to be on the safe side. The sweeper hadn’t picked anything up, but it was still never wise to admit to murder aloud unless you were certain LEO couldn’t hear.

“You rescued me, you were my savior. Never a monster.”

I wanted to sigh in frustration, but instead took a breath, let it out quietly, and kissed the top of her head. “My entire view of myself changed, thanks to you. I saw myself as a defender, a protector, and not the monster I’d let people convince me I was.”

I stopped talking, unable to bring myself to finish the thought.

“And now,” she finally said, “you’re thinking maybe I’m just as much of a monster as you, so you can’t depend on my opinion of you. If I’m a monster, of course I won’t think you’re one.”

“That’s why I was upset when I found out you’d already killed. That, combined with what Marlin told us about how you shot, showing no emotion before, during, or after…
damn
, Princess. I love you even more for it, and it changes nothing about
us
, but it changes everything about how I see myself.”

“What if it’s about perspective?” she asked. “I mean, some people think if a woman has slept with anyone she isn’t married to, she’s a slut. Others think as long as you only have sex with people in meaningful relationships, you can stay away from slut status. I’m pretty sure most everyone thinks if you’ve been fucked by one guy while giving another a blow-job, you’re a slut, but you don’t think I am, do you?”

I shook my head. “No. And the whole slut thing is ridiculous, anyway. Just the tight-asses of the world jealous of the people out having fun.”

She tilted her head back, her neck bent so she could meet my gaze. “So why are you worried about the tight-asses of the world thinking you’re a monster?”

I shook my head. “Doesn’t matter what they think. It’s what I think. The way I define myself.”

“Yeah, but you’re using their measuring stick, which is bullshit. If I use their measuring stick, I’m a slut, but I know their stick is bullshit.”

She looked at me another couple seconds, must have seen that her words were getting through, and snuggled her head back into my chest. “I love you, Bash. I wouldn’t want you any other way. When push comes to shove, I know you’ll do what needs to be done. They say girls marry guys like their dad. I’m not saying I’ll marry you, but I’m saying if we’re still this much in love with each other a year from now, it’ll be a consideration.”

My body stiffened at the thought of marriage, and she pinched my side,
hard
. “Don’t you dare fuckin’ freak out. You’re the one wanting the relationship bond, and I see that as a bigger deal than marriage, asshole.”

I chuckled, realizing she was right. “You’ll pay for that pinch, Princess. Thanks for the perspective, though.” I kissed the top of her head again, and just held her.

Eventually, she sat up and caressed my cheek. “It’s going to be dark, soon. We should probably head back to the compound.”

“Dawg said you’re scared to be here.”

“Yeah, and he kind of nailed why. I’ll have to deal with it, but
please
not tonight.”

“Okay, no dealing with it tonight, but explain it to me.”

Angelica

Bash let me explain as we stood and turned lights and music off, and he pulled me to him as we were about to leave.

“All of this will blow over soon, Princess, and I’ll make sure you feel safe in your home again.”

For most people, it would’ve been an empty promise. I knew Bash intended to make it happen, though.

I was on alert when we walked through the parking lot, but not scared. Together, Bash and I would handle anything that might come up.

When we got to the clubhouse, Duke told him, “Your delivery came. It’s behind the bar.”

I looked at Bash in question, but he only grinned and went to retrieve it. I was surprised it was in a gift bag, and looked at him a few seconds as he handed it to me, unsure of what he was up to and a little afraid to find out. The ice cream had been good, but I worried he might do more than I was comfortable with.

“Open it, Princess. Wasn’t sure we’d get through our conversation tonight, but we did, and we’re good. I hope you’ll accept this.”

My heart was in my throat as I felt down past the tissue and pulled a leather vest out, and then held it so I could see the back. PROPERTY OF arched across the top, and BASH emblazoned across the bottom, with a smaller version of the RTMC logo in between, and
Rolling Thunder
worked into the logo. Women couldn’t wear the exact middle patch the guys wore, but the entire club had to vote their approval before a brother could offer
this
patch to his ol’lady. I looked up at Bash, my eyes watering, and asked, “Will you put it on me?”

He smiled from ear to ear as he said, “Damned straight I will. Turn your ass around.”

We hung out in the clubhouse a while, joking and cutting up with the other members, and then Bash took me to his bed and made love to me, at first. He ended it rough and raw and possessive, and it was exactly what I needed from him. I’d been worried he was treating me with kid gloves after my abduction, so when I lay panting and sore when he was finished with me, I knew we were good. Especially since he’d wanted to fuck me from behind while I wore the vest — and
only
the vest.

I woke up and ran the next morning, the first time that week, and it felt damned good. Unfortunately, my good mood evaporated when I was called upstairs at work, and finally questioned by the upper brass at TVA. As before, they asked me the same questions over and over, and then brought the lie detector out to ask them all over again.

Brain had led me through a series of visualizations about the made-up parts, to help me smell as if I were telling the truth in case a supernatural was present when I was questioned by the cops after I escaped. I fell back on those visualizations for the lie detector, as he’d said if I could fool a wolf’s nose, I could fool a polygraph.

I must’ve passed it, because they sent me back to my desk when they finished with me. I smelled Agent Graham’s scent in the hallway, and wondered if perhaps he’d watched through the two-way mirror this time. No way to know for sure, but his scent was fresh and it was certainly a possibility. This worried me, because it might mean he thought I wasn’t telling the truth.

Or, perhaps he had no other leads to follow and just wanted to watch.

Bash had brought me to work in his truck that morning, and he picked me up in it when I got off. We went out to eat, stopped by the Rolling Thunder bar and had a few drinks in the VIP section with some of his brothers, and then he took me to my apartment.

I started getting nervous as we pulled into the parking lot, and he caressed the top of my thigh. “It’ll be good, Princess. Dawg was right — I can make you enjoy it while I remind you how much you belong to me.” He hesitated and added, “And my wolf. You know we’ve
both
claimed you.”

I looked at him a few seconds and asked, “Do you feel comfortable enough saying I’ll enjoy it that you’ll give me a safeword?”

I knew I’d fucked up as soon as the last word came out of my mouth, but before I could take it back his hand was off my leg and he crossed his arms over his chest.

“On second thought, it’s been a while since I was in my office, and I should probably work tonight. You want to stay here, or should I drop you at the compound?”

“I’m sorry, Bash… I’m just nervous. I forgot how much you tied the lack of a safeword to trust. I know if you smell me in true distress, you’ll stop. I don’t need a safeword. I trust you.”

He didn’t uncross his arms, but I saw him relax a little. “If you don’t trust me, we have no business trying to make a relationship work, Angelica.”

My name from his lips felt like a slap across my face. When he said it while we were having sex, it turned me on… but like this? It was like I wasn’t his Princess anymore.

But,
I’d
fucked up this time — I’d hurt him by not trusting him, and I needed to fix it. “Here’s what I trust you to do. I’m going to get out of the truck and walk across the parking lot to my apartment. I’m going to get a quick shower, and I’m going to trust you to come to my rescue should someone try to take advantage of me while I’m unarmed. I’m also going to trust you to have worked through your shit by the time I get out of the shower, so you’re inside and ready to put this behind us. And then, I’m going to trust you to do whatever your wolf needs in order for us to put the whole Brain thing behind us, in a way that doesn’t make me see you as the enemy.”

I grabbed my purse from the floorboard, got out of the truck, and walked alone through my parking lot for the first time since I was abducted.

I heard my front door open and close while I was in the shower, and forced myself to stay calm. It had to be Bash, and if it wasn’t, he’d come take care of whoever it was.

When I turned the water off, I smelled candles and heard
Riding the Storm Out
by REO Speedwagon. I chuckled as I dried off, and rubbed coconut oil on my legs and arms. By the time I came out of the bathroom, he’d pulled the covers down on my bed, lit the candles on my nightstand, and moved the ones from the dining area in as well. Looked like I was going to get some romance with whatever
lesson
he had in store for me.

“That’s better,” he said, inhaling to catch my scent. “Turns out, I get pissed when you’re afraid of me. Sorry for my little temper tantrum. If you need a safeword, I’m guessing if you tell me I’m scaring you, or just smell like you are, it’ll do the trick.”

He’d taken his shirt and boots off, so he was only in his jeans, and my eyes once again tried to follow the lines of his muscles past the denim waistband. Realizing where my eyes were, I lifted them to his face with a sheepish grin as I said, “I love you, Bash. Don’t need a safeword.” I’d put a short robe on, and I slid one shoulder off as I said, “I’ll take mine off if you take yours off.”

Both of his eyebrows went towards his hairline and he gave me a cocky smile. “You’ll take yours off even if mine stays on.”

I looked at him a few seconds, my body wanting his while my mind short circuited and had no response, and he palmed his hard cock through his jeans as he said, “Naked and on the bed, Princess, while I get the coconut oil from your bathroom. Gonna show you how special you are before I start spanking you.”

He didn’t bring just the coconut oil, he grabbed one of my scarves from the back of my door on the way as well, and wrapped it around my eyes a few times before securing it at the back of my head.

“Listen, smell,
feel
,” he said, drawing each word out. “Just you and me, tonight. I turned both our phones off. The outside world doesn’t exist.”

He gently helped me move to the center of the bed, on my stomach. He hadn’t tied the scarf too tight, I could still see the flickering candlelight around the edges, but I couldn’t see him, or what he was doing.

I could feel the movement of the bed, though, and could smell his arousal, his affection… and then I smelled the coconut oil as I heard the lid unscrew.

I moaned as his strong fingers worked the oil into my back, working it from my shoulders down. He took at least ten minutes to get to my lower back, and I was a bowl of cooked spaghetti by the time he got there.

However, when he scooted back, so I felt the rough texture of his jeans on the backs of my thighs instead of my ass, my libido perked up and looked around.

He massaged the muscles of my ass, finding spots I didn’t know needed to relax, and then insisted they let him in. My tension and stress melted into nothingness, and I moaned in relaxed bliss as I pushed my bottom up, wanting his skillful fingers to explore other, more interesting places.

Instead, he scooted back again, and massaged the coconut oil deep into the backs of my thigh muscles as well.

When he finally stood to take his jeans off, every muscle in my body was relaxed and happy, despite the way my blood boiled in my veins, the way my clit throbbed, and the empty ache inside me that
begged
to be filled.

The bed dipped as he sat beside me, and I moaned as I once again felt the palm of his hand on my ass — though I recognized this as more of a rub-before-the-spanking, instead of the massage he’d just given me.

The first couple of dozen swats weren’t even a warm-up, and I pushed my ass up, wanting more. He gradually gave me more, and he moved his hand from right cheek to left cheek, and from my bottom to my thighs, in a pattern I could mostly keep up with. It wasn’t steady, but if he gave me five on the right, he gave me five on the left, and as he moved up and down, he did so in a straight path so I had an idea of what came next.

Before long, I’d relaxed into this as well, and stopped thinking and analyzing, and just
enjoyed
. My bottom and thighs grew warm, then hot, and everything between my legs
craved
his touch. I moaned and spread my legs as he ran his hand down my right cheek and thigh, then the left.

“Looks like you’re ready to be turned, Princess. Put that warm ass against the sheets for me, since you want to spread those delicious thighs so much.”

“Want to see you.”

“Mmmm, I know. Let’s keep you blindfolded a little longer, though. Keep you out of your head. Want you to
feel
this, Angelica.”

I smiled as my name slid past his lips, because now it was clear I was
his
Angelica. When I’m his Princess, it’s about our relationship, about how we interact with each other, how well we know each other. But we were never in bed together while we were getting to know each other, and we speak to different parts of each other when we’re in bed. I let him dominate me…
no
, it’s more than letting him. I
want
him to dominate me, and I want to belong to him.

Instead of paying attention to my empty pussy, he rubbed coconut oil on my breasts. I reached for his hand when he tweaked my nipples, and he said, “Arms out to the side for me, Angelica.”

I rested them straight out, and he said, “Just so we’re clear, bend your elbows to about ninety degrees.”

I did as instructed, so with my arms to the side, my hands were pointed towards the headboard. “Okay, you can have your arms in any direction you want, whatever’s comfortable, but if your elbows bend past ninety degrees you’ll feel my belt once. If you grab me to stop me, you’ll feel my belt three times.”

I nodded, straightened my arms most of the way, and then wished I could scratch the side of my nose.
Fuck
.

“What’s wrong?”

“My nose itches.”

He chuckled. “Okay, the exception is that you can touch your own head. As long as your hands are above your shoulders, your elbows can be however you want them.”

I scratched my nose and then folded my arms so my hands were behind my head. The music had been mostly romantic, sappy songs, but now Hozier’s
Take Me to Church
started, and my body relaxed into the music as Bash’s skillful fingers once again massaged my breasts. I knew he’d go back to the nipples again soon, but I was determined to lie still and let him have his way with my body. This was about my belonging to him, about my giving myself to him. It wasn’t a hardship — I
wanted
to give myself to him.

“Gonna spank your breasts, Princess.” His voice was so soft, so sensual, it took a few seconds for the meaning of the words to sink in, but when they did, I nodded agreement.

He struck the outside of my left breast first, then right. It wasn’t too bad, but he’d started soft on my ass and worked up, so I had an inkling of what I was in for.

He hit the outsides, insides, tops, and occasionally held them up by the nipples and struck the undersides. I’m not super-well endowed, but I apparently had enough for him to thoroughly spank them from all angles.

He flicked the nipples occasionally, and it was all I could do to keep my hands away, but I did, and before long my hips were moving in a silent plea for attention because my cunt was once again so damned
empty
, and my clit desperately wanted attention.

The blows to my breasts came harder, but I wanted it,
needed
it, and I heard myself saying his name as if I were begging, and I hoped he knew I was begging for him to claim me, and not begging for him to stop.

* * * *

Bash

I’d wanted her to accept what I did, but this was beyond my wildest fantasies. The scent of her arousal filled the room, her hips moved as if they were
begging
me to fuck her, and her sweet, sweet voice let me know just how fucking much she needed me to claim her.

Her breasts moved out of place and back with each strike, and I was careful to move the blows around, so I kept both breasts hot and red and aching for more. When I knew we were probably reaching the limit of how hard and fast I could go before it was too much, I told her, “Love you so much, Princess, but I need to give you some more — more than you think you can take. Want to give you five strikes on each breast, and then two on each nipple… want to do it with my belt, Angelica. Tell me you want me to.”