Burned (Devil's Blaze MC, #2)(37)



She scrunches up her nose and combs her fingers through her hair while yawning again, but not quietly. I’m freaking smiling over that. I was right; I’m going down just like my brothers were. Shit, and within just a couple of days. I might have fallen quicker than they did.

“I need a shower,” she mumbles, looking around the room, probably for an escape route. How the hell did I get here? What happened to the good ol’ days when I wanted rid of a woman and they were crying, wanting to stay?

“Fine, but let’s hurry. I’m killed,” I tell her, yanking off my shirt.

“I meant me, as in singular.”

“Sweetness, after the merry chase you’ve sent me on, you’re not moving two feet away from me. We either shower together or we don’t shower. The choice is yours.”

“But I’m dusty and sore.”

“Then we shower.”

“Hunter, I can still feel his hands on me. Please? Chain me to the shower somehow, I don’t care, but I want a shower and I want it alone.”

Motherf*cking-Hellfire! “He put his hands on you?”

She jumps. I don’t know if it’s from the tone in my voice or the look on my face. Both, probably. I’m going to hunt that bastard down and cut his balls out with a rusty spoon and feed them to the motherf*cker before I do the world a favor and put a bullet between his eyes.

“My boobs and ass,” she answers. “He was definitely an ass man. Can I please wash without you watching? I promise to be on my best behavior. Scouts honor.”

“Sweetness, I doubt you were ever a scout.”

“Please, Hunter?”

I’m starting to see differences in Katie. When she’s sweet and more honest with me, she uses my real name, and I doubt she even realizes the change—but I do. I’m a card player from way back and it’s good to know that I’m learning Katie’s tells.

“Let’s go. You look too tired to do much running anyways,” I tell her.

She slides off the bed with a groan. “You have no idea,” she whispers, but it breaks off in a cry when she tries to put pressure on her leg. She nearly crumbles to the floor before I make it to her side and hold her in my arms.

“Sweetness?” I question, unsure of what happened.

“I’m fine,” she whispers, but we both know it’s not true. I put my finger under her chin so I can see her eyes. At the sight of her tears, I know it’s no longer me just worrying. I’ve fallen under this woman’s spell, hard. I sunk just as hard and just as fast as my brothers. “Motherf*cking-son-of-a-whoremonger!”

“Did you just say, whoremonger?” her quiet voice whispers and she’s trying to smile, but I see the tightness in her face and she still has tears falling.

I hadn’t realized I said it out loud. “I have a habit of adding flair to my cursing. I like to think of myself like the Batman and Robin of cursing. It makes it more fun.”

“Cursing is fun?” she asks as I help her back on the bed. I drop to my knees and start unlacing her boots. She jerks her feet away from me, but I hold onto her foot, not letting her pull away.

“Yeah, like ‘Holy Anagram, Batman!’”

“You’re a strange man.”

“Be still and let me look at your foot.”

“It’s fine. It’s not really your concern.”

“It doesn’t look swollen.”

“Just let it go, Torch,” she says, and there’s her tell. I’m only just starting to discover this woman. I’m not afraid to say that fact excites me.

“Where did you get the scars on your body, Katie?” I ask, letting my fingers massage into the skin of her legs.

“Where do you get those God-awful t-shirts?”

“Always giving me crap. Okay, sweetness, hold tight.”

“Why?”

“I’m going to start a bath. You need to soak this leg. The ankle is puffy.”

“Thank you.”

I don’t bother answering. She’s taking a bath alright, but I’m getting in that f*cker with her.





I take a chance to breathe and calm myself. Feeling Torch’s hands on my body is enough to totally wreck me. Feeling him bring my leg comfort does something else entirely. It makes me want to let my guard down. He seemed concerned. Other than Bethie, there has never been another person to give me that, which is bad. I mean nothing to Torch. He can’t mean anything to me. So what the f*ck am I doing?

He leaves to fix the bathwater and I’m left staring at the door. I should make a run for it, but I’m hurting so bad, I’m not sure I could make it. He threw the keys to the jeep on the dresser. He seems so unconcerned. It’s like he’s trying to trust me. Maybe it’s the pain or the softness I’m feeling towards him, but I can’t bring myself to leave. I ignore the voice inside that says I don’t want to hurt him. That can’t be it… It can’t.

He returns to me. “Stand up, sweetness,” he says softly, and the tone of his voice makes something flutter to life inside of me. Torch helps me stand up, then his hands brush my hair on each side of my face before slowly moving down my neck. Torch’s thumbs pet the front of my throat, igniting flames of awareness in my blood.

“Hunter… I’m not sure we should be doing this,” I whisper, wetting my lips since my throat seems to have gone dry. Desire floods through my system and I can feel my heartbeat echo in my ears. For some reason, he smiles. It should be noted that when Torch smiles, those green eyes of his could melt the panties off of a nun. “Why are you smiling?” I ask, unable to stop looking at him. If you can get away with calling a man beautiful, Torch definitely is.

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