Page 54 of Inflame Me
I can’t stop my feet from moving toward him, my body trembling the whole time. Not that I believe he would hurt me; it’s just the first reaction. After James and then what just happened, I can’t stop the fear.
His hand cups my chin, turning it so he can look at where the asshole punched me. I have no doubt it’s red.
“It should mix in well with all the other fading bruises.” I wanted my tone to come out teasing, but it’s more flat, and Rhys hears it.
“Fucker won’t touch you again.” He pulls me roughly into his arms, and I wrap mine around his back, barely able to meet my fingers.
The nerves that were spiking uncontrollably begin to settle at his touch as I burrow myself into him, my face in his neck. I soak every bit of comfort I can from him and let his strength settle me.
His hand moves up to my hair, leaving fire on my skin as he threads his fingers through my tresses. I wince at the touch.
“Fucker pulled hard?” he asks, already knowing the answer.
“Yeah. I wouldn’t be surprised if I left some on the floor out there.” My words come out muffled into his neck, but I’m not ready to move yet. I want to stay right here in his warmth.
I ignore all the warning bells going off inside of me, telling me this is a bad idea. I shouldn’t feel this way with this man. Nevertheless, I cast it all aside and soak in the moment with him.
“I’ll kill that son of a bitch.” Those words make me move quickly.
I look into Rhys’s eyes that are filled with so much clouded anger I’m not sure I could help him at this point. “You can’t kill him. You’ll go to jail,” I whisper, moving my hand to his face then stopping myself. He doesn’t like to be touched there, I remember. I place my arm back around his waist.
Princess laughs from the other side of the room, but says nothing.
“You let me worry about those dickheads. I swear to you, they will never get near you again.”
I burrow my head and inhale deeply. Rhys smells like wind, outdoors, and plain out sin. I can’t get enough of it.
He pulls my head out the crook of his neck and kisses me hard. I don’t resist falling into the hungry kiss and enjoying every second of it. When he pulls away, I whine. I want his comfort. I want him.
“Sprite, stay with Princess for a bit. I’ll be back in a few, and you’re on the back of my bike.” He kisses me again, releases me, and like smoke, vanishes quickly.
“Well, fucking hell,” Princess says.
I stare at the door, willing him to just come back and hold me, but he doesn’t. Instead, I grab the ice pack and put it on my face.
I look up into Princess’s dancing eyes. “What?” I fall down into the chair, my legs sprawled out and head resting on the cushion. My head feels so heavy.
“Sister, Rhys doesn’t put women on the back of his bike. Ever.” None of this means anything to me, so I stare at her. She shakes her head, coming closer to me. She stops, her eyes squinting in thought. “Remember I told you about biker hard?”
How the hell could I forget? It scared the shit out of me.
“Yeah.”
“Part of biker code is only allowing women on the back that they choose. Rhys doesn’t allow any woman on the back of his bike. In all the years I’ve known him, I’ve never seen him take one.”
My eyes narrow. “And this is some big deal?”
Princess chuckles. “Tanner, are you ready to be Rhys’s ol’ lady?”
I still, my body not even taking a breath. Princess has lost her mind.
“I’m only here for a bit longer. I’m sure the funeral is in a couple of days, and we’ll have to head back.”
“Whatever you say, but don’t say I didn’t warn ya.”
MOTHERFUCKING PIECE OF rat shit. I grip the pleading man’s hair and pull as hard as I fucking can, wanting him to feel the hurt he put on Tanner.
His screams do nothing to stop the thunderstorm inside of me. I want his flesh. I want him a quivering fucking mess. I want him dead.
