Ignite Page 3

  I bend my neck, placing my lips against her forehead. “It won’t happen.”

  “It could,” she tells me.

  “It won’t. I won’t be in the club long enough or put myself in a situation like that again. I’ll talk to Tiny and Morris. We’ll speed up my exit. They’ll understand. This wound—” I dip my chin toward the bandage on my shoulder “—will get me what we want earlier than we expected.”

  “They already said you’ll never be free.”

  I pull her closer, resting my cheek against her soft hair as she snuggles into my chest. “No one leaves completely, but I’ll be as free as anyone can be. I won’t have to be a part of them day-to-day. I won’t have to wear my cut, making myself a target. I won’t have to go on spur-of-the-moment rides. Sure, I may be called upon if shit goes sideways or if they need a favor over here, but other than that, I’ll be more out than in.”

  She sighs, running her hand down my back, tracing the line of my spine. “I need you to be here more than you’re there.”

  “Done.”

  “I need you in my bed at night.”

  “I’ll make it happen.”

  “I need to grow old with you.”

  “I’d have it no other way,” I promise her, meaning every fucking word.

  She stares up at me with so much hope. “I want babies with you. Lots of babies.”

  I swallow, trying to push down the fear I’ve always had about being a shit father. “Whatever you want, princess. You know I’d give you the moon and the stars if I could reach high enough.”

  “At least you have time to recuperate before you have to go back to the compound.”

  I stiffen, and her eyes widen.

  “Do not tell me you’re going back already.”

  “I have to go back tomorrow. They need me there, and I don’t have a choice. I’m still a member of the club, injured or not.”

  She sighs, dropping her head to the middle of my chest again. “Fuckers,” she murmurs against my skin, digging her fingernails into my back. “You can’t ride like this.”

  “I’ll have Pike drive me,” I tell her, hating that I have to ask anyone to drive me across the entire state and can’t do it myself.

  “No,” she says quickly, keeping her face pressed into me. “I’ll take you.”

  “I don’t think—”

  “I don’t care. I’ll take you. You need a ride. I’m your ride. This isn’t up for discussion or debate. Understand?”

  A smile spreads across my face because I do like it when she’s bossy…at least, sometimes I do. Other times, not so much. “You can take me, then.”

  She peers up, a smirk finally back on those beautiful lips. “I wasn’t asking for your permission.”

  “We good, then?”

  She nods. “Always.”

  “I’m yours today. What do you want to do?”

  “I want you to finish eating and then go back to bed.”

  I sigh.

  “But I’m going to be in that bed with you, baby. We’ll see if you can handle me before I bring you back to the compound. We’ll call it a test.”

  I smile, liking her way of thinking. “You going to grade me?” I lift an eyebrow.

  She laughs. “Of course.”

  I slide my hand down to her ass. “Will there be extra credit?”

  She moves her hand into the waistband of my jeans. “It’s possible, but it won’t be easy.”

  “I’m up for the challenge, princess.”

  “I’m sure you are,” she says, winking.

  3

  Tamara

  I gasp, sucking in air like I’ve had my head underwater for more seconds than humanly possible. “Jesus fucking Christ,” I mutter, collapsing back against the mattress.

  “Princess, Jesus had nothing to do with that.”

  I close my eyes, my head spinning from lack of oxygen and the orgasmic aftershocks that are still coursing through my body. “I’m pretty damn sure I saw God.”

  “He didn’t have anything to do with it either,” he says, smiling down at me with total and complete adoration. “That was all me, baby.”

  I wave my hand at him before quickly dropping it to the bed, too tired from the two orgasms he so willingly and selflessly gave me.

  “Well, we know your mouth is in working order.”

  “Fingers too,” he adds, wiggling those long, thick bad boys in the air as he stands, dick at attention, waving around, letting himself be known. “But I think my cock needs a check.”

  I laugh, unable to take my eyes off his beautiful fuckstick. “Well, get on up here and show me what you got,” I tell him.

  He shakes his head. “Bum shoulder, remember? Get your ass down here,” he tells me, standing at the end of the bed, waiting. “On all fours, ass in the air. You know how I like it.”

  My belly flutters, and somehow, my pussy twitches. The greedy bitch actually wants more, but the rest of me is waving the white flag, begging for a break. “I don’t know if I can hold myself up after all that.”

  “Sweetheart,” he says softly, smirking, “just place that beautiful face against the mattress, and I’ll do the rest. I won’t let you fall.”

  I move like my ass is on fire, scrambling to the end of the bed. I assume the position, ass up, my face smashed against the rumpled sheets, arms at my sides, and wait, panting like a cat in heat.

  “Perfect,” he whispers, running his hand down the side of my hip. “Just perfect.”

  We hadn’t seen each other in two weeks before he landed in the hospital, a hole blown into his body. Usually when we saw each other again, we did nothing else except fuck, sleep, and eat. I looked forward to these days. The countless orgasms followed by the naps in his arms afterward.

  I sneak a peek, staring down the side of my legs, watching him as he admires my ass. There’s always a hunger in his eyes. Always a thirst he never seems to quench, no matter how many tastes or sips he has of me. “You going to stare at it all day, or are you going to fuck me?” I say, feeling sassy.

  Before I can even smile, he lifts his hand, bringing it down fast and not all that hard against my ass. It’s just enough pain to send a jolt through my system and cause me to push my ass up higher.

  He runs his palm over the very spot that still stings, soothing me. “You want to say that again?”

  “Kind of.” I laugh, wiggling my butt around. “But I’d prefer if you’d put your cock inside me instead of playing games.”

  “This cock, princess?” he asks, removing his hand from my ass and wrapping it around his long, thick shaft. “You want this one?”

  I lick my lips, almost salivating at the sight. “Yes,” I murmur, unable to stop staring as he strokes himself.

  “Beg for it,” the fucker tells me, smirk firmly planted on his face, his gray eyes staring right into mine.

  I stop shaking my ass. “Beg?”

  “Tell me how much you want this cock.”

  I lift up on my elbows and give him a smirk right back. “Baby,” I whisper, sweeping my gaze up his body, away from his cock, to his face. “You’ve already given me two amazing orgasms. I’m pretty damn good right now. I think you should be the one begging for the orgasm at this point. But if you don’t want it and would rather stroke that fine cock yourself, I’ll be more than happy to watch.”

  “Fuckin’ impossibly cute,” he mutters, still moving his hand up and down, up and down, in a slow and steady rhythm.

  “Why don’t you beg for my luscious pussy?” I say to him, holding in my laughter because I know I’m going to pay for this, and I sound completely ridiculous. “Beg for the chance to stick that aching cock into my tight, wet pussy.”

  He sucks in a breath, and I know he’s about to lose it.

  I’m getting to him.

  I’m toying with him in much the same way he toys with me.

  There’s power in it, and it’s addictive.

  “Beg, Mammoth. Tell me how badly you want my cunt.”

 
; His eyes flash with hunger. The word “cunt” pushed him over, bringing out the animal part of him. The side of him that’s filled with lust and the need to spill his seed. He takes a step forward, moving toward me with his prick ready for action.

  When the tip of his penis touches my body, I inch forward and get a growl as a response.

  “Beg,” I remind him.

  “I don’t beg.”

  I raise an eyebrow, still propped up, waiting. “You don’t, but you will.”

  He smiles down at me, and I think I’ve won. My inner cheerleader is already doing spirit fingers, celebrating our victory and the pounding I’m about to receive for my good deeds.

  But to my surprise, he doesn’t beg.

  He doesn’t open his mouth.

  Instead, he sits down next to me, shoulder touching my hip, and continues to move his hands up and down his shaft.

  “What are you doing?” I ask, blinking and gawking at him in all his sexy glory.

  “I don’t beg, and you’re right, my hand works too.”

  “Asshole,” I growl under my breath.

  He closes his eyes and continues working his cock in his palm, slowing down near the tip before moving his closed fist lower, repeatedly.

  I don’t wait around too long because I’ve been waiting for this moment since the last time he said goodbye. I crawl backward until my feet touch the floor and stand in front of him.

  “Are you really going to jack off?” I ask him, mesmerized and unable to stop staring. If I weren’t so hungry for his cock, I’d stay like this, watching him pleasure himself. But fuck, I’m not. I’m needy and greedy. Self-restraint has never been my strong suit, especially when it comes to Mammoth.

  “Mmm,” he mumbles, stroking faster, squeezing harder.

  I push his hand away and straddle his legs, hovering above his length. “You’re a fucker, baby,” I whisper, running my finger down the side of his face, staring into his gray eyes. “But let me remind you how much better my pussy is compared to your hand.”

  He reaches out, placing his hand on my hip. “Teach me a lesson,” he teases, his eyes dipping to my tits. “Give me some sweet punishment.”

  I snake my arm around his good shoulder, resting my hand at the back of his neck, careful not to touch anywhere near his bandages. “Hold on, because I’m about to rock your world.”

  He digs his fingertips into my hip and growls, telling me he likes my dirty talk even though it’s lame as hell.

  I bend my head forward, taking his lips with mine as I lower my bottom and grab his cock with my free hand, lining up our bodies.

  He moans his approval as I push myself down, enveloping just the tip.

  “You like this?” I ask, whispering against his lips, feeling his body tense underneath me.

  “Yes,” he whispers back, opening his eyes to stare at me. “I’ve missed this. I’ve missed you. I need that sweet cunt, princess. I need you.”

  Did he beg? Not really.

  But did he say all the magical words? Yes.

  I am done playing games.

  Done trying to one-up each other.

  I need Mammoth too.

  I need his cock.

  I need the connection.

  I’ve already had two orgasms, and I’ll always take more, but I want to feel connected with him in the most biblical way.

  My fingers tighten around the back of his neck as his dig into my hip, both of us tethered to each other before I drop down, impaling myself on his length.

  His mouth opens, tongue sweeping inside mine, as we both moan in pleasure. His chest is rock hard when I smash my tits against him, loving the warmth of his body and the softness of his skin. I raise myself up and slam my lower half down, over and over again until he’s kissing me so hard, I know my lips are going to be sore and swollen.

  He slides his hand to my ass, grabbing me roughly as I ride him, moving quicker with each passing stroke. My greedy pussy convulses as the third orgasm of the day crashes over me, milking his cock, wanting to give him the same pleasure. I haven’t even made it over the first wave of pleasure when he tightens his grip on my ass, following me off the cliff.

  We sit there for a moment, me in his lap, his hand still on my ass, both of us gasping for air.

  “I love you,” he whispers.

  I rest my forehead against his, gazing into his hauntingly beautiful eyes. “I love you too,” I say back, pushing away the feelings of fear I had a few days ago when I thought I could lose him forever.

  Mammoth collapses backward, taking me with him, and I roll to his good side, nuzzling into him. His fingers glide up my back, burrowing in my hair. “What’s the one thing you want that you don’t have now?” he asks, staring up at the ceiling.

  I close my eyes, exhaustion after three orgasms slowly taking over. “I have what I want,” I tell him, referring to us. “I’m content.”

  “I don’t want you to be content. You deserve more than contentment. You deserve everything you want and more.”

  “I’m good. Really good.” I snuggle into him harder, resting my cheek against his chest. “Life is about to get better too. I’ll be done with school soon, and you’ll be here with me full time and out of the club. What more is there?”

  “There’s so much more, princess.”

  I tip my head back, looking up at him. “What do you want?”

  “I want a house where we can have privacy. I want my own business so I can be my own boss. I want babies, lots of babies, running around with their wild hair blowing in the wind and their infectious smiles making every day brighter.”

  “Slow your roll, tootsie pop.”

  He laughs, brushing his lips against my forehead. “Five kids. Think about how great that would be.”

  My vagina literally aches thinking about squeezing five babies out of my body. He’s clearly still high on the pain meds because there’s no way I’m having five kids.

  I blink, furrowing my brows. “Two.”

  “Four.”

  “Three.”

  “Perfect,” he says and smirks.

  Damn.

  I walked right into that one.

  “I hated being an only child,” he confides in me. “I don’t want that shit for my kid.”

  “Funny because I always wished I was an only child.”

  “We don’t have to have them right away,” he tells me.

  Well, thank God for that.

  “What are you going to do after college? Have you started thinking about where you’re going to work? We need to make a plan.”

  I chew the inside of my lip, realizing I haven’t spent much time thinking about the future. At least not beyond graduation and Mammoth. “I don’t know. I’ve never been much of a planner.”

  “We got to get our shit together. Time’s passing, and we’re standing still. We could work together. Be a team.”

  I raise up on one arm, staring down at him as he lies against my purple comforter. “You want to work together?”

  He smiles. “Why not?”

  “We’d be at each other’s throats.”

  “Make-up sex and hate-fucking are the best,” he tells me, keeping a straight face while saying those words.

  I think about it.

  There’s some truth to what he’s saying.

  Sure, hate-fucking has its bonuses.

  The intensity is always high and the emotions more intense, but that doesn’t mean I want to be around him twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.

  I love him more than anyone in the world, but I also like a little alone time.

  “Come on. Why work for someone else when we can build something together? I’m buying Tank’s garage from him. We already worked out all the details. Don’t you want to work with me?” He pouts, laying it on so damn thick.

  “What the hell would you have me do? I can’t fix things. My math skills are absolute shit unless you’re asking me the discounted price for an item on a sale rack. What use could I possibly be
to you?”

  “I don’t want a small-town garage. I’m not looking to spend my days replacing tires and brakes. I want this thing to be big. I want to be known as the best of the best for custom restorations of vintage cars. Your degree is in marketing, yeah?”

  “It will be.”

  “I need a marketer. I need someone to blow up my social media and get the garage noticed. Why would I hire someone else when my woman can do the best job? We could build the life we want without having to worry about anyone else or answering to someone who doesn’t give a shit about us.”

  “I don’t know.” I run my finger across his chest, pausing near his nipple piercing. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea. I love you, but I don’t know if the around-the-clock thing is the greatest idea you’ve ever had.”

  “Listen, we’ll set up an office for you, but you can work at home if you’d prefer. You don’t need to be in the shop with me and the other guys. Just promise me you’ll think about it, princess. It’s going to be fuckin’ fantastic.”

  “Have you seen the garage?” I wrinkle my nose. “It’s old and a complete mess.”

  “It’s cheap and has everything we need. It’ll take a little work, but I can have that baby humming and looking like new in no time, especially by the time you graduate.”

  He’s right.

  The building is solid but needs some repairs. Tank hasn’t done much in the last few years to make the place look pretty. He always says it’s meant to look dirty because it’s a garage and not a bland, generic corporate location. He’s all about the work and not the aesthetics of the joint. Which is more than clear to anyone driving by the dingy place.

  “You really want to do this together?” I ask, letting those words sink in.

  “This is all about us and our three little boys.”

  “Three little girls,” I correct him, poking him in the chest.