Page 22 of Blaze

Kennedy is more than a quick fuck type, though. Tracing the gentle slopes of her cheeks, the elegant ridges of her eyebrows, and her kissable lips, I know she’s not the type for me. She deserves a happily ever after and I’ve fucked so many women, I’ve lost count, none more memorable than the rest.

I’d remember her, a wicked voice croons. I shut it down.

Kennedy has been running for her life, a bounty on her head from a mafia family, and she’s made it clear she wants to leave Devil’s Haven as soon as she can. She’d leave today, if we let her, convinced staying on the move is the only option she has.

Before I knew her situation, I’d had plans to get a taste of what’s between her legs before we both went our own ways. Now, though, everything is different. Today, she’s a client, paying or not, which means keeping my dick under control and in my pants is an absolute.

Pounding on my door sends Kennedy bolting upright, her night-black hair tumbled and wild like she’s been debauched.

I roll out of bed, pretending the noise woke me up, too.

“What?” I bellow towards the door while swiping up the jeans I’d shucked before climbing in bed with my own personal sleeping beauty. I feel her eyes on me as I stand, pulling the pants up over my ass.

“Reaper wants us at HQ,” comes Brute’s rough answer. “Bones has new intel on that girl of yours.”

“That girl is in here,” Kennedy grumbles as she slides out of the other side of the bed.

I can’t resist looking over as I pull a clean shirt from my closet. My mouth waters at the expanse of her legs and soft curve of her ass before she yanks her dress’s hem down.

“Whatever,” Brute’s voice sounds off through the door. “Be there in thirty or it’s your own ass.” Kennedy pauses, staring at the door with wide eyes.

I huff a laugh, drawing her gaze. I tap my ears. “Demons, kitten. We hear better than most.”

She scrunches up her face, looking so much like a disgruntled kitten that I battle the urge to wrap her up in my arms again. Instead, I yank the shirt on over my head and march to the connected bathroom. “I gotta piss, then we’ll head out,” I toss back before slamming the door closed.

Kennedy starts to mutter something about males and then cuts herself off. I grin, not having to hide it now, amused with the woman. Dammit. I shake myself, unsettled with how easy this human woman gets under my skin.

Less than ten minutes later, Kennedy is following me into the kitchen of the clubhouse after using the bathroom after me. Even in a rumpled dress and her hair tossed up in a messy bun, she makes my cock hard.

Lacy is in the kitchen pulling out a tray of lemon blueberry muffins from the oven with Cinder hovering anxiously nearby. She maneuvers around the vice president of the Knights of Hades motorcycle club, rolling her eyes at him. When she sees Kennedy and me walk in, she gives us a bright smile. I’m happy for her—it wasn’t even a year ago her asshole ex kidnapped her, planning to force her to marry him. Cinder claimed her as his, and all of us in the club chased Eddie down. In the process of killing Eddie, Cinder had shifted into his full-demon form. Rather than be afraid of him, Lacy had embraced him without hesitation.

Now she’s just started the third trimester of her pregnancy, and Cinder is driving her insane.

“Kennedy!” Lacy greets before giving Cinder some side-eye. “Can you please tell this man that pregnancy doesn’t turn women into delicate glass? I swear, he’s more nervous than a mouse in a cat house.” The blonde woman flips the muffin tin so they all slide out onto the counter before setting the tin aside.

I don’t hesitate to head to the kitchen island and snag two for myself, getting a grin from Lacy. The pastry’s still too hot for humans to eat without scalding, but I take a big bite. Around the bite, I defend Cinder. “Give him a break, Lacy,” I say before swallowing. “Not like there’s a lot of half-demon, half-human spawn running around. For all we know, that babe might claw his way out of your belly like the kasit fiends.” I give a dramatic shudder, eyeing the usually stoic Cinder for his reaction.

Lacy shrieks and throws a wooden spoon at my head, which I dodge with a laugh. “Not helping, asshole!” She spins to Cinder, cupping his scarred face without hesitation. “Don’t even think about that. This baby is doing just fine, and I’ll have a normal human labor and delivery. Dr. Lane is certain.”

Cinder wraps his arms around his much shorter lover, scowling at me over her head. “Yeah, I know,” he grumbles. “Just don’t like how you’re hurting more every day, sunshine. If I knew how uncomfortable you’d be, I’d never have fucked you.”

Lacy presses a kiss to his chin, patting his chest affectionately, right over his name and rank patch on his leather cut. “Which would have been a damn shame. Now take the muffins I packed for you and the guys at Tartarus, and this time you’d better share with the prospect. I like him, he’s sweet.”

Cinder growls at Lacy calling another male—the lynx—sweet. Maybe once Lacy bonds with Cinder, giving her soul to him, he won’t be jealous over any small comment. Knowing the surly bastard, it’ll probably be even worse.

“I’m serious.” Lacy’s firm with Cinder before stepping away from him and closer to the fresh muffins again. She puts a couple in a baggie, leaving it open before sliding it across towards Kennedy. “Here we go, honey. Make sure you don’t leave them around Blaze or they’ll disappear. Fresh coffee in the pot, if you want some.”

“Thank you,” Kennedy says graciously, tucking a piece of hair that escaped her bun behind her ear. “They smell great. Where are the mugs?”

“I got it.” I quickly swallow the last of the first muffin and move around to the restaurant-sized coffee carafe. With how many of us actually live at the clubhouse, a standard home coffee maker would never be able to keep up. Even with something that can make half a gallon of coffee at a time, we go through at least two an hour. Reaper drinks one all on his own. “Room for milk or sugar?” I grunt over my shoulder as I grab two well-used travel mugs.

“Yes, please.”

When I hand her the mug, fierce satisfaction digs into my chest at her grateful smile. I scowl, and her eyes widen before she looks away, holding the mug with both hands. Fuck, now she thinks I’m mad at her.

Cinder catches my eye and raises a knowing brow. I want to flip him off.I’ve told him before that I’m not like him, not made to settle down with an old lady and start a family here in this new realm we call home. I followed Reaper and Cinder out of Hell because I craved freedom. Freedom from expectations. Freedom from people wanting more than I can give. Freedom to be my own demon.

Freedom from my father, though father is a generous term.

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