Page 24 of Torching Vixen
I pull out and fall back, pulling her across my chest, still trying to catch my breath and ignoring the pain of my injuries. I slowly start running my hand up and down her side and over her belly. I’m so lost in my thoughts about everything that it brings me back to the here and now when Vixen pulls away.
“Where you going?” I ask her.
“To clean up and take care of business. Do you need anything?” she replies.
“No, baby, I’m good. Just hurry back!” I tell her, pulling the sheets over my naked body.
I awake to an empty bed. Now, that’s not right. I groan as I sit up in bed. Fuck, getting your ass kicked for days on end takes a fucking toil. Looking for the pants I dropped when I walked in the door, I almost fall off the bed at the sight around me.
I’m not a slob by any means but running a club beside your dad keeps a man busy. My room looks like you could eat off the floor. There isn’t a scrap piece of paper or speck of dust anywhere. I know the girls around the club didn’t do this, and Mom told me when I was ten, and she walked in on me doing something no mom wants to see, “You can clean your own fucking room from now on, you little shit. Steel, your fucking son just—NO!” Then she slammed the door, leaving me shocked to the point I never fucking forgot to lock my door again.
I stand, heading into the bathroom to take care of business and try and find some clothes to go and find my missing woman. We have a lot to talk about. If I had it my way, it’d be before Dad calls church to talk about everything. I find the empty basket my clothes are normally in.
“Where are my fucking clothes?” I murmur as I pull open my closet to find it all hanging neatly.
After quickly dressing, I pull the door open and go to step out when Lo’s door flies open, and Razor comes storming out, leaving a sobbing Lo on the bed. Vixen is going to be fucking pissed. In the short amount of time, I’ve known her, I’ve figured out that there is a fierce momma bear in her, and she’ll gut anyone who hurts someone she considers hers.
He slams Lo’s door before glaring at me like this is all my fault. “Razor, man, you good?” I ask him as he storms past.
“Does it fucking look like I’m good?” he retorts before heading out the back door.
I walk down the hall and into the kitchen, finding Vixen at the island, eating a plate of bacon, eggs, and what looks like French toast. I walk over, wrapping my arms around her waist between her tits and belly, and kiss the side of her neck. She leans into me just a little as she takes a bite of bacon.
“You know I didn’t get my breakfast. It’s just not fair,” I whisper into her ear.
“There’s plenty. You can fix yourself a plate,” Vixen replies after taking a drink of her orange juice.
“Aww, but I can’t put you on a plate,” I tease in a low voice, taking a nip of her ear before pulling away and walking over to fix myself a plate.
My back is to her when I’m pegged with a piece of French toast. I look at Vixen over my shoulder. “That was not your best choice there, sweetheart.”
Vixen just shrugs and goes back to eating like she didn’t just waste a piece of heaven. Sitting next to her, I start shoveling food into my mouth when I see Lo comes through the door. I’m a little shocked since she looks well put together. Vixen is watching Lo like a hawk, and I’m fixing to ask Vixen if she knows what’s going on but decide that getting some alone time would be a better topic of conversation.
“You want to see some of the property when we get done here?” I ask Vixen.
“Seriously?” she sounds stunned.
“Why do you sound so shocked?”
“I just didn’t….” she trails off when Dad comes through the kitchen door, calling us all into church.
I grab the bacon off my plate, kiss Vix on the side of her head, trying to figure out why she would be so shocked that I’d want to spend time with her. But right this second, I need to focus on church and come up with a plan to bring that pissant and his shit to ground.
“I hope you boys were able to get some rest,” Dad states, bringing a start to church.
“Oh, we heard how little rest Torch got,” Smith says, grinning. I flip him the bird and lean back in my chair.
“If you boys are done, I’d like to continue,” Dad retorts, leaning forward on the table and clasping his hands together.
“I got a call from some friends in Nashville, and they identified the slimy shit helping Fire. They took care of him and said that they want no part of Fire and his little club,” Dad advises with a slight smile.
“Want to enlighten us on who this friend might be and if we can fucking trust him? Also, do we have any new information on Duck and when the fuck we can bring him home?” Wesson asks, shifting in his chair.
Dad tosses some photos on the table. “Is this the man that was working with Fire?”
Sure enough, it’s him. I sneer at the smug look on his face. The same one he was wearing when he and Fire turned up in that fucking basement. When I get my hands on that little fuck, I’m going to teach him why they call me Torch if it’s the last thing I do.
“Shit, who the fuck took him out already?” Smith inquires, looking so fucking disappointed I almost feel bad for him.
