Twisted Asphalt (Asphalt Outlaw Series Book 1) (12 page)

Stomach muscles jumped involuntarily when she felt the blade
against her, right above her waistline. Her skin was alive, sensitive to
everything around her. He moved in front of her, his arm next to her face, his
hand against the wall next to her head. His breath blew, slow and even against
her cheek. The tip of the blade moved with aching slowness up her rib cage, her
muscles straining not to flinch, every fiber in her wanting to squirm in secret
pleasure.

The back of her head pushed into the wall, forcing her to
arch, pushing out her chest toward Mace. A whimper escaped, she was unable to
stop the sound of delight as control was taken from her bit by bit. The blade
ran gently along the underside of her breast, nicking the leather edge of her
bikini top, stopping at the center of her breastbone. Another sound made it
past her lips, a strangled, cut off moan when his tongue traced along her
shoulder, blowing cool air against her hot skin.

Mace breathed against her collarbone as he jerked his wrist,
the blade slicing through the leather string that held her top closed.

The air was cold against her, her body temperature spiking
with adrenaline racing through her. Her skin grew tight, nipples hardened to
tiny buds as his movement stirred the air around her.

The blindfold ignited her senses. The possibility anyone
could spot them was even hotter, forcing more fire through her. Amy trembled
when Mace’s fingers skimmed her flesh like a feather, brushing the leather
aside, a whisper of fabric as it fell to her feet.

Mace’s mouth seared her flesh everywhere he kissed, leading
a slow trail down her breastbone. His tongue swirled around the peak of her
aching breast and she drew a sharp breath. Musky aftershave, crisp soap and
leather assaulted her, tugging her desire deeper.

His teeth took hold of her hardened nipple and tugged with
fervor, undoing her self-control when his tongue flicked over the bruised bud.
Hands flew up to cradle his head, only to be shoved aside.

“No touching. Not yet.”

She was already on the brink by the way he touched her. His
mouth blazed a trail across her breastbone while his fingers traced down her
ribs. The sound of the blade hitting the floor released a shuddered breath from
her. Squirming under his touch, she stilled when two of his fingers dipped
under the waistband of her shorts.

“What do you want?” Mace’s mouth moved against her as he
asked the inevitable.

Back arched, wanting his mouth to attack her once more. A
nail broke when she curled her fingers against the barn wall, trying not to
grab him and toss him to the floor to have her way with him. His mouth left her
skin, causing her to whimper in protest.

“Answer me. What do you want?” The tip of his tongue lazily
traced her collarbone; her muscles jumped against the soft touch.

“You,” was all her voice could muster, her mind on sensory
overload. His laughter was nothing more than panting against her skin while his
mouth began its slow trek down the middle of her body. Deft fingers unbuttoned
her pants with a single hand while his other crept up the back of her thigh,
sliding under the hem of her shorts to cup the edge of her ass.

The sound of her zipper lowering was an explosion when he
tugged it with painstaking slowness. His mouth followed the direction of the
zipper, over her satin panties, stopping above the delta of her thighs.

Mace released his hold, his calloused hands sliding along
her hips, pushing his hands between her panties and the shorts, lifting her
hips away from the wall. Palms cupped her perfectly, giving her a quick squeeze
before he pushed the fabric to the floor. Amy couldn’t help but giggle
nervously when he guided her out of her shorts. That came to a quick end when
his hands grazed her calves, his nails gently scraping up the back of her legs,
stopping at the crest of her ass cheeks.

Amy writhed against his hands as his palms pressed against
her hips, his thumbs hooking under the string of her panties. The hemline of
the satin underwear grew tight against her abdomen when he pulled the elastic
strings away from her sides. She smelled her desire for him when he let go of
the hem, the snap against her skin stinging, pushing her one step closer to
losing total control of her ability to keep herself upright.

Her legs vibrated from the intensity of his touch and her
need for him to sate her hunger thickened. Her body was slick with sweat, but
none of that mattered when she felt his whiskered cheek brush over the
sensitive sweet spot at the very junction of her core. She whimpered in sheer
agony when his tongue swept over the damp satin; his hands pushed her legs
further apart.

Cold steel against her inner thigh caused her to twitch and
gasp. The tip of the blade quartered the satin where the hip met the inner
corner crease of her thigh. Her chest rose and fell with her quick breaths,
every nerve ending sparked with his tongue sweeping over her wet folds.

She felt the very tip of his tongue tease her, then flatten
out, spreading her open for him when he suckled her clit into his mouth.
“Shit!” Her hips bucked against his mouth as his tongue pushed into her spot,
shattering what tiny control she had left. His hand pushed her leg up, allowing
her to hook it over his shoulder and draw him closer to her.

She felt him grunt against her, the vibration of his lips
making her hiss and grind on his mouth, urging him to keep going. His tongue
thrust back and forth, flicking over the sensitive flesh; he growled like a man
on a mission. Heat spread through Amy, her hips had a mind of their own,
writhing against him; tiny pricks of pain a welcome reprieve from the onslaught
of his mouth.

She was going to cum if he didn’t stop and she did not want
to go over that edge yet. “Please…” Amy gasped, her hands moving through his
hair, fingers tightening around strands.

Mace stopped, “Please what?”

His voice was low and husky, the feral sound of salacity
thick against her apex. “Not this way, please.” She begged and she didn’t care.
She wanted to feel him, every damn inch of him buried deep inside her. She
needed to feel full, to know he was claiming her as his own.

He kept her leg on his shoulder as the sound of his belt
buckle filled her ears, followed by the echo of his zipper coming down and the
wrestling of his pants fully opening. He shifted, dropping her leg to the crook
of his elbow, exposing her more to him.

Amy felt him position himself, his silken tip pushing
against her, begging her to let him inside. Inch by agonizing inch, Mace pushed
deeper inside. Her hands flew to his chest, fingers digging into his skin as
she thrust her hips down on him, her body convulsing. She felt her walls clench
against the thick throbbing shaft, sending her into a maelstrom of ecstasy, her
orgasm immediate.

Teeth sank against her collarbone as Mace’s hips jerked and
thrust against her, his other arm sweeping her leg out from under her,
positioning her so she rubbed perfectly against his pelvic bone. He was going
to make her climax again with the way he pounded his hips against her.

Her hips matched timing opposite of his, and she reached
down between them, fingers spreading her wider, rubbing against the most
sensitive spot, urging her body to peak again.

“Fuck.” Mace gasped before his mouth claimed hers. His
tongue pushed into her like a piston, her taste on him was vinous, making her
want more. She matched his intensity, her tongue battling his as her fingers
rubbed harder against her flesh, her nails grazing his exposed shaft before he
sank back into her.

Amy felt him swelling, veins pulsing against her walls, a
heat wave washing through her as her body grew tight. His mouth tore from hers,
teeth nipping at her nipples, tugging and sucking the tips into his mouth. She
couldn’t stop from crying out, panting uncontrollably and moaning while his
hips bucked against her, their bodies in perfect sync.

His grunts were music to her ears, his body jerking,
stilling, then twitching, until he collapsed against her. Mace’s breathing was
labored as her arms wrapped around him, holding him against her.

“Holy shit. The whole fucking state needs a cigarette after
that.”

Amy tried not to laugh, but couldn’t help it. She gasped, at
how sensitive she was, and she wasn’t the only one; he grunted and chortled,
twitching against her. “Sorry,” she mumbled.

“Don’t be,” he removed the blindfold. Blinking several
times, she smiled, seeing he was still fully dressed. “And I’m the only naked
one why?”

He grinned and slowly released her legs, placing her feet on
the ground. “How about I strip and race you to go take a shower?”

“Oh, I like that idea.” She wanted to pout, feeling empty
now that he had stepped away from her, but her legs nearly gave way, forcing
him to scoop her up and carry her to the house.

CHAPTER 17

Hot damn. His abs were freaking killing him and his thighs
burned. Mace felt like he lifted against Arnold Schwarzenegger and won. He
opened his eyes and froze.

Where the fuck was he?

Lifting up on his shoulders, he glanced around.
Fuck me
running.
He was so screwed if he didn’t get out of Amy’s room pronto.
Swinging legs out of bed, she murmured in protest, but didn’t wake up.

This wasn’t getting any better.

Where the fuck were his clothes?

Darting to the bathroom, he had one of two choices, a
cupcake print purple terrycloth bathrobe, or a pink satin robe with red hearts
all over it.
Seriously
? Mace mentally groaned and snagged the purple
cupcake robe off the door and slipped it on. It was too small for him, the
sleeves reaching to his forearms and the hem barely hitting mid-thigh.

Opening the door, he stuck his head out, looking both ways
to check if it was clear. Hearing Romeo and Stone, Mace cringed. This was bad.
Very bad. Tip-toeing downstairs, Mace quietly worked his way into the living
room, to the door hidden from the view of the kitchen. He twisted the knob and
pulled. The door refused to open.

Whiskey. Tango. Foxtrot!

Pulling harder, Mace was about to go into full panic mode.
If Romeo or Stone caught his naked ass in their house, they were going to throw
him the worst beat-down he’d ever experienced. He swore under his breath,
noticing the door was sealed off.

Creeping back upstairs, he tried the window at the end of
the hall. Nailed shut. Good Lord, Romeo and Amy must have been terrors growing
up. Why else would doors be sealed and windows nailed shut? This was a definite
ass puckering moment. Hearing a door open behind him, he spun around, seeing
Amy. Hand flew over her mouth to catch the fit of laughter.

“Shh!” Mace tried not to laugh, this shit was far from
funny. He pointed downstairs, “How the hell am I going to get out of here?”

Amy’s voice wobbled with laughter as she whispered, “I’ll
get you out. Go to the front door.”

They made their way down, splitting off—Amy to the kitchen,
Mace to the living room. Inching slowly to the front door, he saw Amy’s back to
him, drawing Stone and Romeo’s attention away from the news on the TV.

Turning the knob, the door wouldn’t open. The deadbolt was
locked. Turning the bolt was going to alert them that someone was in the living
room. Just when Mace thought his luck was gone, a commercial with loud gunshots
came on TV. Turning the bolt just as the gunshots went off, he cracked open the
door.

“Are those cardinals?” Amy gasped, pointing out the window,
forcing Stone and Romeo to stand beside her and look outside.

He owed her big time. Closing the door quietly behind him,
he let out a breath of relief and ran for the barn, trying not to step on
anything that would hurt his bare feet. Making it to his room, he sighed,
raking his fingers through his hair. That was too close for comfort. Reaching
for a pair of jeans, he slipped them on, followed by his boots. Checking his
brand, he applied the salve, then placed a new bandage over it. He was busy
pulling on a tee when Romeo rounded the corner and leaned against the doorjamb.

“You know, I have to say,” Romeo cleared his throat, the
trace of laughter lingering. “Lavender is your color. How ‘bout it, cupcake?”

Mace looked up, tongue-tied at being caught. His jaw
dropped, unable to rally a quick enough comeback to protest. He set his hands
to his hips and hung his head, a half chuckle offered up as his excuse.

Romeo threw his head back and roared with laughter, pushing
off of the doorjamb and moving deeper into the room. “It’s okay, man. You’re
adults.” The laughter faded as his eyes grew dark with seriousness. “Just don’t
hurt her, brother.”

The threat was there. It wasn’t verbal, but it hung in the
air loud and clear. “It’s not my intention, Romeo.”

His voice was heavy with sarcasm, “The road to Heaven was
paved with good intentions.”

Mace couldn’t keep the edge out of his voice when he turned
to face Romeo, not afraid to square off with the hulkish male. “I’m not sure
where Amy and I are headed. I live life like there is no tomorrow, Romeo. Amy
knows that and accepts it. I don’t plan on hurting her, but shit happens. You
of all people ought to know that.”

Romeo nodded with indifference, his voice sounding tired.
“How right you are. I’m the king of hurting the ladies.”

Mace’s left brow rose a fraction. Romeo never opened up with
personal shit. Caught off guard, he pushed his hands deep into his pockets. “A
man’s got his reasons for the things he does.”

Romeo shrugged dismissively. “Got that shit right. One too
many manipulative and desperate females for my blood.”

Mace couldn’t help but listen in bewilderment. Some chick
had put a serious kink in Romeo’s armor. Scratching at the whiskers on his
cheek, he sank on the edge of his bed, looking up at his friend. “What
happened?”

Romeo’s voice grew cold and exact as he leaned back against
the wall, arms folding over his chest. “A few years back, a girl I was dating
got pregnant. Swore up and down the kid was mine, but everyone kept telling me
that she was hookin’ with some fucker behind my back. I stood by her, though I
never told my old man. I guess something inside me told me the kid wasn’t mine.
Sure enough, baby came, I got a DNA test and it wasn’t mine. Not too long after
that, one of the club girls tried the same shit, wanting status.”

“And then you had Tasha pulling the pregnancy stunt.” Mace
gave a forced smile and a nod in concern. “Dude, you guys need to get rid of
her. Get a new batch of women in here before some of the Ol’Ladies put a
hurtin’ on them. It’s coming and quick. It’s sad some women are like that.”

“Let them beat the shit out of each other for all I care. It
happens when too many vaginas are together at once. It’s not some, it’s all
women.”

“So, you’re saying your sister is the same way?” Mace
questioned with a significant lifting of his brows.

“My sister is basically a dude.” Romeo laughed and waved
away anything Mace was about to protest. “She doesn’t put up with that shit and
she isn’t going to fake a fucking pregnancy to get you to marry her. And what
the fuck is this
you guys
shit? You forget you wear the patches now
too?”

Mace rolled his eyes, offering a throaty chuckle. “I haven’t
forgotten. Habits die hard, brother. It may take a few to get used to not being
prospect anymore.”

“Speaking of which, Saber wants to sponsor Dalton. We’re
going to have a church meeting here soon and talk on it.”

“He seems like a good kid.” Mace stood, hearing steps coming
their way.

Stone walked into view, looking back and forth between the
two of them. “You two look guilty as hell. What did you do?”

Romeo snorted, pushing away from the wall and dusting off
his pants. “Haven’t done shit yet.”

“Good. We got shit to do. Bob called and the bike parts for
Axe are ready. We got to go get them.” Stone patted the doorjamb as he turned
to leave.

“I told Amy yesterday I’d pick up a few things for her at
the store. If that’s cool with you guys.”

Romeo threw his head back and laughed. “How cute, he’s
already domesticated.”

Mace lifted his hand and gave Romeo the one fingered salute,
following Stone out the door. “Whatever dude.”

“What’s that I smell?” Romeo followed Mace out, acting like
he was sniffing the air. “A pussy whipped male?”

“Get over yourself, fucker.” Mace chuckled as they wandered
over to Stone’s truck. Since he left his bike at the shop, he’d need a ride to
pick it up.

The front door flew open, Amy darting out toward them.
“Don’t forget the list!”

Stone opened up the truck door to climb inside. “Yo, cut the
bromance you two and get your asses in gear. Amy, slow do—”

Stone never got out the rest.

Amy had made it halfway to the truck when the house exploded
into a ball of flames.

“Amy!” Mace screamed as sheer black horror ran through him
when Amy disappeared in the ball of flames that rolled out and over the lawn.
Falling debris slammed down around Mace and Romeo while they both surged forward.
The very thought of losing her tore at Mace’s insides.

Mace raced across the lawn; just thinking she might be dead
shattered him to the core. Seeing Amy laying face first on the singed grass,
Mace dropped to his knees, sliding the rest of the way to her. He scooped up
her limp body and cradled her close to him. She was covered in soot, her skin
and clothes burned in several areas.

“Amy, baby ... answer me!” He slapped her face lightly; icy
fear twisted his heart when she didn’t respond. Fingers fumbled for a pulse at
her throat as Romeo slammed down next to them.

“Amy! Fuck! Is she?” Romeo yelled over the roar of the fire,
his face a tortured mask of worry and fear.

Mace felt her pulse, strong and regular, allowing him to
breathe a sigh of relief. “Take her and get her to the truck.” He gently handed
Amy over to Romeo, then dug in his pocket to pull out his phone. He dialed
9-1-1. After he gave them the information, he hit a single button on his phone
and waited for an answer. “This is Mason Younger, Special Agent Jones. I was
involved in a domicile explosion. I have a favor to ask.” Mace looked at Romeo.

Romeo’s broad face twisted with anger and hostility. His
voice was inflamed and belligerent as he choked out, “You son of a bitch.”
Romeo walked away, his spine rigid, letting Mace know that this was far from
over.

* * * *

All Amy remembered was running outside with the list,
telling them not to forget it, then unbearable heat at her back. It enveloped
her, stealing breath from her lungs, and then there was nothing. She woke up on
a gurney, wired to a heart monitor and sucking down oxygen like it was a drug.
She was in a haze, unsure of where she was, until she saw the flames from the
open cargo bay of the ambulance.

“No!” Amy cried out in despair, hot tears slipping down her
burned cheeks. Deft, slender fingers tore at the stickers glued to her, the
sound of Velcro tearing apart as loud as thunder in her ears when she ripped
the blood pressure cuff off her arm. Clawing the nasal cannula off her face,
she nearly fell off the mobile bed, stumbling out the back of the ambulance.

Blind to anything but the fire that consumed her family
home, a hard body stopped her from running into the flames. “No!” Amy screamed
in raw and primitive grief, unable to contain the tears threatening to consume
her. Everything and anything left of her mother was in that house. Every memory
destroyed by smoke and flames.

Amy wasn’t able to fight the arms that held her, crumbling
against the muscular frame. “Shhh, Amy. You’re safe.” The words were crooned
for her comfort, but she only felt hollow and numb. Lips pressed against her
temple, hair brushed tenderly from her face, forcing her to look up to see who
held her.

Mace stared down at her, a suffocating sensation tightened
her throat at the look of raw hurt in his eyes. “Am I?” Amy brought up a shaky
hand to her forehead, her voice wobbled as she spoke. “It’s all gone, Mace.”

A stab of guilt lay buried in her chest watching her father
meet them, his eyes hollow and laden with unshed tears. He looked worn and
haggard, his age catching up with him. How could she feel sorry for herself at
the loss of her mother’s things, when her father was at as much of a loss, if
not more?

Stepping away from Mace, she took slow steps toward him,
slipping her arms around his waist, laying her head on his chest. His heartbeat
soothed her as they watched the firefighters put out the last of the flames.

A black SUV arrived on scene; two men in suits exited and
moved toward the fire chief.

Amy looked up to her dad confused, "Who are they?”

Stone gave a shrug of uncertainty. “Probably arson
investigators.”

Mace coughed into his fist, stepping up to the two of them.
“I called in a favor. They’re experts in this sort of thing.”

Unconsciously, her brows furrowed. “What sort of thing?”

“Bombs.”

Amy’s heart skipped a beat in fear. To put into words what
she knew, but didn’t want to acknowledge, was horrifying. “Who would do this?”

“That’s what I’m hoping to find out.” Mace turned to Stone.
“I have a pretty big spread in Foxen Canyon. A six bedroom home that isn’t
being used. Come stay with me. We can trailer the horses over in the morning,
take the bikes tonight.”

Stone seemed startled by the suggestion, shaking his head in
response. “We can’t put you out like that, Mace.”

Amy’s jaw dropped at the offer, realization hitting her that
they didn’t know that much about Mace. This would be a way to get closer to him
and see what made him tick. “Why can’t we? We’d save money by not being in a
hotel. Any other of the club family would offer it, and if he has the space,
Daddy?”

“She’s got a point, Stone.”

Stone’s soot covered face grimaced when she pulled the
‘daddy’ card. “Fine. If you’re sure it won’t put you out.”

“It won’t. I promise. I only have 96 acres though.”

Amy was confused when Stone pointed at Mace with a chuckle
and a shake of his head. It had to be some private joke between the two of
them.

One of the suits stopped in front of them as Romeo strolled
up. “I’m Special Agent Jones.” He stuck out his hand to shake Stone’s, Romeo’s
and Mace’s hand. He looked directly at Mace and spoke. “We found the device
that was remotely triggered. The kitchen and living room seem to be the most
damaged, the device was located in the living room. There is water damage, of course,
in the other rooms, smoke damage as well. It won’t be that difficult to rebuild
the home, but I pray after this, you can rebuild your lives.”