Burn: Outlaw Romance (Hotter Than Hell Book 3) (12 page)

“She pulled the shot and you fucking know it. I’d be dead if she hadn’t.” Dagger glances my way and I put the spoon in my mouth like I don’t have a care in the world.

Give me another chance with a gun and I won’t miss
, I think while doing my best to convey puppy dog eyes.

Dagger climbs off the man and crosses his arms.

The guy stands and dusts off his jeans. “Look, Dagger, I’m fucking sorry. We all want this club to prosper and I was sick of Fox and his bullshit. I have no love for spics, but I couldn’t care less where you put your dick.” Dagger takes a menacing step toward the guy and the man raises his hands. “No disrespect, I just have no idea what to call her.”

This is actually funny. Spic doesn’t bother me. Hell, I’ve been called much worse. Dagger seems to have a problem with it, which surprises me.

“Her name is Sofia,” Dagger grinds out.

The guy nods without bothering to look at me. I’m quite aware this isn’t over, but I did learn I have a stay of execution. I keep eating the chili and drink from the water bottle that’s beside the bowl.

Dagger pulls out the chair beside me, turns it around, and straddles it. He speaks loudly so all the men hear him. “This is your home for now, princess. You’ll be earning your keep cleaning and serving. If you have a problem with that, say it now. Any one of these men, including me, will happily give you a plot of brown earth to rest in.”

The longer I’m alive, the better chance I have to escape. And I will escape. “I’ll take the first offer,” I inform him.

“You start immediately. There’s a ton of dishes in the kitchen. The whores will be in here entertaining us.”

Whores, really? These Neanderthals need a basic class in… fuck… Basic Humanity 101, maybe. My bitch rises to the surface. “I wouldn’t think you’d need to pay for it, but I guess there are quite a few women turned off by premature baldness.”

His expression conveys exactly how stupid I am. He grabs my hair and pulls me out of the chair, dragging me from the room. I hear the snickers and do my best to hold back my fists. When I explode and plant Dagger’s ass on the ground, it needs to be a surprise and one without witnesses so I can escape.

Dagger shouts behind us, “Rufus, you have guard duty until the damned kitchen is clean. Bring her back in here when she’s finished so I can tuck her into bed for the night.” The chuckles turn to laughter. Dagger throws a door open and pushes me inside. Rufus, the guy who peeked in on me while I was tied to the chair, enters behind me. Dagger leaves without saying another word. I look at Rufus. He’s goofy looking in a young Woody Harrelson kind of way. I’m guessing he’s in his early twenties. It’s hard to tell with his shaved head. Unlike most of the other men, his face is hairless.

I glance around the kitchen. Not only is it ugly, it’s piled high with the filthiest mess I’ve ever seen. I storm over to the sink and almost vomit. The smell is horrendous and the grime peeking through the dishes is growing fungi. It takes three seconds to realize there is no dishwasher. Dammit, this will be a hand job. I smile internally. I’m not exactly a hand job kind of girl.

I open the cabinet beneath the sink and surprise, surprise find dish soap, bleach, and scouring pads. No rubber gloves, though. I look at my nails. They’re not in the best shape to begin with. The polish on them has seen better days. “So much for my velvet soft hands,” I mutter jokingly.

I empty the sink while ignoring the guy behind me. I’ll be damned if I speak to any of these twat heads. A woman’s squeal comes from the front room. God, I hope whoever’s out there is of age. A hard-rock beat that I would usually shake my ass to fills the kitchen. I’m tempted to do it even with Rufus Woody standing behind me, but I resist.

When the sink is empty, I start scrubbing the porcelain. I’ll be damned if I eat off plates that are cleaned in a smelly sink. My arms are burning before I’m satisfied that I won’t die of botulism the next time I eat. The bowl of chili I had earlier is now questionable, but hopefully the spices killed off food poisoning.

I start scraping plates, bowls, pans, and utensils into a garbage can I remove from under the sink. There’s no damn dish pan, so I have no choice. When I begin the actual washing, I have time to think. I haven’t seen Lorene… Red. I don’t see them killing her and leaving me alive. I need to talk to her. She’s coming with me when I leave.

According to the clock on the old stove, it takes me more than two hours to clean the kitchen. The more time that passes, the rowdier it gets in the other room. I’m exhausted when I dry the last dish. I had to disregard the fact that I put everything into dusty cabinets. Unless I get out soon, I’ll have plenty of time to sanitize the entire room.

Rufus is leaning against the door jamb trying to stay awake. I know the feeling. I walk past him and he follows. There’s a very short hallway and it takes only a few steps before I’m back in the large front room.

Fuck.

One of the men has his naked ass on the bar and a woman is sucking his dick like there’s no tomorrow. Another woman’s laugh gains my attention. Her arms are around Dagger. He’s at a table playing cards. The woman is standing slightly to the side behind him. Rufus walks around me and gives Dagger a short whistle. Dagger ignores the hands on his shoulders and stands. The woman steps away and looks unhappy when Dagger walks over to me. She’s not exactly pretty, though maybe at some point in her life she was. Now she’s skin and bones, obviously from a drug habit. I saw it too many times when I was younger. Dagger nods at me and I guess that means follow. He grabs a beer bottle from the top of the bar, ignoring the woman who’s still giving head to one of his men, and walks me back to the cell I was in earlier. I continue past it to the bathroom and open the door. I immediately notice a roll of toilet paper on the floor. I’m surprised when Dagger reaches in and closes the door behind me. Wow. He’s allowing me to do my business in private.

I leave the bathroom with trepidation. I’m caught between pissed off and horny. What the hell is it about Dagger? I won’t kid myself and deny my attraction to him—bald head and all. I think most women would be attracted to him. I enjoy sex and as long as the man doesn’t expect lovey-dovey shit afterward; I use it to work off some of my anger issues. It’s everything Dagger stands for that makes me feel caged and apprehensive. If only his bald head was more of a turnoff. Every time I see him he seems a little more… doable. He has rock fucking solid muscle that makes me check beneath my lips in case I’m drooling. He really needs to wear a shirt. In the few steps we have before entering the room, I check out his back tats. I thought biker gangs wore their patches on their backs. Dagger’s work is unfinished and I haven’t the foggiest idea what it is. Another tat question that will go unanswered because I refuse to ask.

We reach the room they held me in earlier. Do I fight and pretend I don’t want this? Who the hell knew there would be a new, gentler skinhead group when I arrived and sex would even be an issue? God, I try not to laugh at that thought. These men are violent, and coming from me that’s saying a lot.

I can’t make up my mind so try to stall. “Could you at least tell me if Red’s okay?” I add a bit of whining to my tone at the end. Guys think of it as a weakness and I need to plan my escape carefully. I can pretend to be weak.

Dagger follows me into the room without answering and shuts the door behind him. He leans back against the wood and tips the bottle of beer to his mouth. His red eyes convey he’s had a little too much to drink. He needs a shower, I can smell him from here, and yet he’s still fucking sexy. Swagger literally drips from his pores in waves of confidence that I’ve rarely seen. My pussy goes wet as I look at every defined angle of his chest and abs. It’s not a sock in his pants either. A fucking white boy has never affected me this way.

My heart skips a beat when he speaks. “Take your clothes off. Everything,” he orders.

My sensitive nipples throb and my inner thighs sizzle with longing to give him the ride of his life. It sucks that my mind rebels. I hate everything he and his club stand for and I shouldn’t be attracted to him.

Fuck it. Easy or hard? I’ll enjoy hard more, so what the hell? “Sure you can get your dick up, bald man?”

His hand goes to his head and slides over his scalp. “You tell me,” he says lazily. “You can’t take your eyes off my fucking body or the bulge in my jeans.” He takes another swig of beer. “Remove the fucking clothes, Sofia.” His hand moves to his waist and the bigger than shit knife he wears. It’s a threat and it pisses me off. This is not the way you play this game.

Without changing the tone of his voice he continues. “Take them off or I’ll cut the damn things off and you won’t be getting new ones anytime soon. You in that bra contraption was a lot of temptation for my men. How long will you last with nothing covering that pussy of yours?”

He just had to go and ruin everything. “Fuck you,” I say because I don’t like him threatening me with something he won’t carry through on. His cock wants this Latina pussy too damn much to give it to his men.

Dax

I’VE HAD MORE THAN
I should to drink but even so, I’m not into raping women. Her hot Latina eyes are impossible to miss when she checks me out. She hates me but wants to fuck me too. We’re in the same boat, though I’ll admit I don’t exactly hate her.

I want her clothes because I’m not sleeping in here or with her at all tonight. Her ass would be too much to resist if we were in the same bed. Her bag and purse are already in my room. I’m hoping the lack of clothes will stop her from running. The burs around the clubhouse will help, so her shoes are coming off too. The side benefit is seeing her naked. And I fucking want to see her naked.

There’s a lot riding on her willingness to stay here without causing trouble. I’ll discuss the options with her in the morning. Her captivity can go easy or hard. She needs to convince the brothers she’s not a threat, and if she can do that, I’ll get her away from the mess she caused.

Her eyes are hard pinpoints as she stares back at me in defiance and her, “Fuck you,” made my dick twitch.

I flip the knife in the air and catch it by the handle. Not bad for as tipsy as I am. I take one step forward and stop when her fingers go to the snap on her jeans. Her eyes breathe fire. I gesture with the point of the knife and she wiggles the tight material down her sexy curves. Flawless light brown skin and long legs make me take a step back and lean against the door again. I won’t touch her, but it’s so fucking hard. Hell, I want to grab my dick and jack off to the show. Her hips flair with her rounded ass and curve to a small waist. Not that she’s exactly small, but fuck is she perfect. She toes off her athletic shoes and the jeans pool on the floor. She kicks them away and stands in front of me in her bra and panties. The underwear is black like her bra. I like it, and so does my dick.

I take another hit of beer and watch the rest of her strip routine. She grabs the band of the bra and raises it up over her breasts, bringing it high on her arms before dropping her hands and allowing the bra to hit the floor. Her breasts jiggle with the movement. The panties go down next, slowly giving me a view of her hairless pussy. Fuck me but I want to bury my face in it. She stands in front of me only wearing short white socks. She doesn’t cross her arms or try to hide herself from my gaze.

My breath catches on a sudden flashback of Savannah. It’s like being hit by an ax. The two women are nothing alike and still, seeing Sofia’s pride, I’m reminded of the only woman I’ve ever loved.

I step forward, unable to speak, and pick up the items from the floor. She can keep the fucking socks. I need to get out of this room and away from her. I lock the door behind me and march across the hall to the room I’ve claimed. I need sleep, dammit. And what do I do? I pull her fucking underwear up to my nose and inhale filling my lungs with the smell of her pussy.

I’m a dirty bastard.

I slam my door, toss the clothes on the bed, and shuck my jeans. My body hits the bed and I grab Sofia’s panties from her pile of clothes. I bring them back to my nose. Fuck, I want to eat her pussy. I lower the silky cloth to my cock and jack off again.