Read Online Burn: Outlaw Romance (Hotter Than Hell Book 3) by Holly S. Roberts - Free Book Online
Authors: Holly S. Roberts
Tags: General Fiction
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completely forgotten.
He laughs. It’s not a happy sound and it sends chills down my spine. “To me and my men,” he puts the emphasis on men and his smile disappears, “all pussy is pink where it counts.”
Heat rises in my cheeks. Fucking asshole.
It doesn’t escape me that he’s willing to pass me around his men either. And he’s not finished handing out threats. “Dying is the easy part, it’s what leads up to it that you need to fear.”
Fear is not something I’m accustomed to and I don’t plan to give into it now. Good looks aside, Dagger is just like my father. If I weren’t so dehydrated, I’d spit on him.
He tips my chin up until my neck is all the way back, placing my head at an uncomfortable angle. My hands go to his. They’re like iron. “First question: Was Fox your father?”
I was groggy, but I clearly heard Lorene, who they call Red, spill the beans. This small detail is of no consequence. How much do I want to share before they kill me? Dagger eases his grip and I tell him the truth. “Frank Tison, who you call Fox, was my father.” It’s actually nice to emphasize the past tense even though I didn’t cause his demise.
“How old are you?”
I have no idea why he cares. “Twenty-six.”
“I figured younger.”
Most people do.
He goes back to cleaning my face. The water feels good in the hot room. I wiggle a bit because his knee is pressed between my thighs intimately. Too intimately for my tastes.
“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” He doesn’t let me answer. “Who knows you’re here?”
Do I want them thinking they’re fucked if they kill me? I think so. No good reason for me to answer this question. I remain quiet and Dagger continues cleaning my face. When he’s finished, he opens the first aid kit and pulls out a butterfly bandage and some ointment. He’s being deceptively quiet and it worries me more than if he threatened me again. He’s methodical in his doctoring skills, I’ll give him that. When finished, he rests everything on the cot and calmly buttons my shirt, which I had forgotten about. His fingers skim across my hot skin and I inhale sharply. This doesn’t go unnoticed. He looks at me with a calculated stare. I break eye contact and glance over his shoulder at the closed door.
He finally steps back, removing the pressure from between my legs. I immediately want it back. My pussy throbs to the same beat as my aching head. God, what I would give to hump his leg right now. This man has me caught somewhere between anger and lust. I have a healthy sex drive, always have. I’m usually discerning, though. Skinhead assholes have never been on my radar. Just the opposite. Yesterday the last person on earth I would want to fuck is the man before me.
He’s watching me closely. “You sure you don’t want to answer the question?” His eyes darken from steamy pools of light blue to hard, murky ocean waters when I refuse to speak.
He lifts his hand and for a moment I think he’s going to hit me. I don’t flinch. I’ve taken beatings—I can handle what he dishes out. Pain and I are old friends.
I’m shocked when his fingers run through my hair. Pins and needles feather over my scalp and he’s not even touching me. I want to lean into his fingers like a cat and purr. We’re caught in some kind of hot, fucking sexual daze. My gaze lowers. I can see his cock straining against his jeans, proving we’re both aware of the invisible sexual burn between us. My gaze slides up over his ripped abs and bulging pecs. The pulse at his throat beats fast. I glance higher and our eyes lock. I want to eat him, lick him, devour him. His eyes tell me he wants the same.
The spell breaks when one of his men enters the room. Dagger takes a bottle of water from the guy, uncaps it, and hands it to me. I’m too thirsty not to gulp down as much as possible. I watch Dagger while drinking it. He grabs his beer, twists off the top, and takes a healthy pull before giving it
He laughs. It’s not a happy sound and it sends chills down my spine. “To me and my men,” he puts the emphasis on men and his smile disappears, “all pussy is pink where it counts.”
Heat rises in my cheeks. Fucking asshole.
It doesn’t escape me that he’s willing to pass me around his men either. And he’s not finished handing out threats. “Dying is the easy part, it’s what leads up to it that you need to fear.”
Fear is not something I’m accustomed to and I don’t plan to give into it now. Good looks aside, Dagger is just like my father. If I weren’t so dehydrated, I’d spit on him.
He tips my chin up until my neck is all the way back, placing my head at an uncomfortable angle. My hands go to his. They’re like iron. “First question: Was Fox your father?”
I was groggy, but I clearly heard Lorene, who they call Red, spill the beans. This small detail is of no consequence. How much do I want to share before they kill me? Dagger eases his grip and I tell him the truth. “Frank Tison, who you call Fox, was my father.” It’s actually nice to emphasize the past tense even though I didn’t cause his demise.
“How old are you?”
I have no idea why he cares. “Twenty-six.”
“I figured younger.”
Most people do.
He goes back to cleaning my face. The water feels good in the hot room. I wiggle a bit because his knee is pressed between my thighs intimately. Too intimately for my tastes.
“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” He doesn’t let me answer. “Who knows you’re here?”
Do I want them thinking they’re fucked if they kill me? I think so. No good reason for me to answer this question. I remain quiet and Dagger continues cleaning my face. When he’s finished, he opens the first aid kit and pulls out a butterfly bandage and some ointment. He’s being deceptively quiet and it worries me more than if he threatened me again. He’s methodical in his doctoring skills, I’ll give him that. When finished, he rests everything on the cot and calmly buttons my shirt, which I had forgotten about. His fingers skim across my hot skin and I inhale sharply. This doesn’t go unnoticed. He looks at me with a calculated stare. I break eye contact and glance over his shoulder at the closed door.
He finally steps back, removing the pressure from between my legs. I immediately want it back. My pussy throbs to the same beat as my aching head. God, what I would give to hump his leg right now. This man has me caught somewhere between anger and lust. I have a healthy sex drive, always have. I’m usually discerning, though. Skinhead assholes have never been on my radar. Just the opposite. Yesterday the last person on earth I would want to fuck is the man before me.
He’s watching me closely. “You sure you don’t want to answer the question?” His eyes darken from steamy pools of light blue to hard, murky ocean waters when I refuse to speak.
He lifts his hand and for a moment I think he’s going to hit me. I don’t flinch. I’ve taken beatings—I can handle what he dishes out. Pain and I are old friends.
I’m shocked when his fingers run through my hair. Pins and needles feather over my scalp and he’s not even touching me. I want to lean into his fingers like a cat and purr. We’re caught in some kind of hot, fucking sexual daze. My gaze lowers. I can see his cock straining against his jeans, proving we’re both aware of the invisible sexual burn between us. My gaze slides up over his ripped abs and bulging pecs. The pulse at his throat beats fast. I glance higher and our eyes lock. I want to eat him, lick him, devour him. His eyes tell me he wants the same.
The spell breaks when one of his men enters the room. Dagger takes a bottle of water from the guy, uncaps it, and hands it to me. I’m too thirsty not to gulp down as much as possible. I watch Dagger while drinking it. He grabs his beer, twists off the top, and takes a healthy pull before giving it
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