Page 21 of Blaze

The bed rocks, and I feel his hard glare despite having no idea where his face is. “Oh, I’m sorry. I must have forgotten to tell you that I’m not some romance movie hero where I offer to sleep on the floor. This is my bed, so I’m damn well sleeping in it. If you’ve got a problem with it, sweetheart, the floor is right there.”

I sputter at the harsh words, probably doing a great impression of an annoyed fish. I’m too tired and strung out to deal with this. I throw myself down, rolling to give him my back. “This is ridiculous,” I grumble, taking out my frustrations on the pillow under my head. I put as much distance as possible between us, since Blaze doesn’t seem to have any sense of personal space.

The bed shifts as he settles, and my eyes are squeezed tight. I’m all too aware of my dress having bunched up until my butt is almost uncovered but I feel like it’d be weird and obvious if I try to yank it down now after making a big deal about putting space between us. Not like sitting here clearly not asleep isn’t awkward enough already.

Blaze is quiet in the dark room, his breathing steady. Even though there is at least two feet of distance between us, his warmth reaches me under the blanket and sheets, lulling me back into a drowsy state. When I’d first crawled into the bed, I was too tired to notice anything. Now I’m awake enough to take in the smell of woodsy smoke, oil, and leather that surrounds me.

I’m smelling Blaze. I press my thighs together, scolding myself about getting turned on by the man—demon’s—smell. But…I turn my head a hair deeper into the pillow and take in a deeper breath. He really does smell so good.

It reminds me of my childhood, of the adventures my parents would take me on before they died. Sitting around the campfire, bundled up with hot cocoa in my hands, surrounded by the smell of the woods and the love of my family.

My mom and dad loved each other so much. I’d always wanted a marriage like theirs, and I thought I’d found it with Enzo. Memories, bittersweet, find me in the darkness. My mom laughing as my dad swings her into his arms, turning them in circles as they danced in the living room. My dad showing me how to flip pancakes when I helped him make breakfast on Mother’s Day. My mom showing me how to throw a ball properly and my dad doing his best to distract us until we ended up chasing him through the backyard.

I never, ever doubted my parents’ love for each other or their love for me.

God, I miss them. I miss them so much.

I try to swallow back the sob bubbling in my throat, but Blaze must hear it anyway.

“You’re safe here, Kennedy.” His voice is soft, low, like warm silk in the dark. He must think I’m breaking down from earlier. I don’t bother correcting him. “You probably didn’t see the pictures in Reaper’s office, but when I told you we deal with the worst, I meant it. We’re not just a motorcycle club. We offer specialized security for people who need help against the worst. It’s why I know we can set you up with a new identity. You wouldn’t be the first person we’ve done it for.”

I let his words sink in, processing them slowly. I’d been shocked at his earlier offer in the truck, an offer of setting me up with a new start somewhere else, but now it makes sense. If they run a security company like Blaze is saying, maybe I will actually have a chance to get through this without always feeling like I need to look over my shoulder.

Letting out a long breath, I open my eyes to stare towards the wall in the dark. “Thank you,” I say after gently clearing my throat. “I just want—” I cut myself off.

The bed shifts and Blaze’s hand lands gently on my shoulder, making me jump. But I don’t jerk away from him.

“What do you want?” he asks.

It’s not supposed to be a loaded question, but it feels like one. I want Riccardo and the Santi Pastori to forget I ever existed. I want to go back to being the girl with dreams and hope. I want to be able to slow down, god, do I ever just want to be able to slow down for once. And I really want to feel protected, like someone else is strong enough to take on my burdens. Just for a night at least, just long enough for me to actually have rest.

I lean back, looking over my shoulder and take a leap. “Would you hold me?” Words start tumbling out of me, trying to justify or explain why I’m asking this stranger to let me fall asleep in his arms. “It’s just, you make me feel safe and you’ve been keeping me safe tonight, and I know this is a huge pile of shit you never expected to deal with—” My voice breaks on the last word when Blaze literally pulls me across the bed towards him.

“Anyone ever tell you that you talk too much?” he asks as he tucks me against his side. I’m stiff as a board, especially when all I feel is bare skin. “One thing about me is I’ll never say no to holding a beautiful woman up against me in my bed.”

He’s somehow got me so my head is using his massive bicep as a pillow, his arm curled around me so he can grip my waist. When I don’t relax, he huffs, which makes his broad chest press against my back and the warm air of his breath ruffles my hair.

“Sleep, kitten,” Blaze orders gently again. “I’m not going to throw myself on you in the middle of the night. When we fuck, you’ll know well in advance since you’ll be begging for it.”

He chuckles at my outraged noise, but his efforts to settle me down work. Combined with his warm heat, I relax against him, my mind settling with the security of his embrace. It isn’t long before I’m falling asleep, Blaze’s fingers stroking across my waist.

8

BLAZE

Kennedy isn’t the first woman I’ve woken up with in my bed. She is the first one I don’t immediately wake up and send on her way, though. Usually, whenI wake up with a woman, it’s after a night of hard fucking and the woman isn’t pressed up against me. I sure as fuck am not curled up around them like a damn puppy.

When I’d awoken Kennedy by coming to bed, the sour scent of fear that had rolled off of her as she’d battled with the blankets had filled me with the weirdest urge to let out my claws and shred the damn fabric for scaring her. It took sheer will to tug the blankets free instead and not scare her more. When she asked me to hold her, my mind blanked out. No one has ever asked that of me, let alone told me I made them feel safe.

Working for the club’s security agency, it’s expected of me to keep clients safe and I’m damn good at my job. But I’m not oblivious to the nervous looks most of our clients give us. We’re the monsters hired to keep them safe from even worse monsters. We’ve just gotten used to ignoring the scent of fear. And like Reaper says, the clients can be pissing themselves in front of us—so long as they pay our fee, we’ll do our job and do it well.

The only fear I’d previously smelled from Kennedy was when I leaned down at her car’s window, then when the goons were after us.

My bedroom’s window faces east, the morning sun’s light filtering into the room around the blinds. It gives me enough light that I see Kennedy clearly, still tucked up against me. Her slender hands are curled into fists and nestled under her chin, her head resting on my bicep, her soft breaths warm against my bare chest.

She’s still wearing the too-damn-cute sexy polka dot dress, and sometime during the night, it was pushed up around her hips. Her legs are tangled with mine, her soft core tauntingly close to the steel rod of my dick. My hand had found its way up her silken skin until I’m holding a handful of her glorious ass. I don’t move it, telling myself if I do, I’ll risk waking her up.

My dick pulses, all for waking her up with me between her thighs.

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