Kiss/Bang: Lost Devils MC - Book 1 Page 5

  “I’d rather you stay.”

  I blush.

  “You know, you’re all I’ve been thinking about,” Hush admits quietly.

  My grin widens. “Oh?”

  “You already knew that that though,” he growls.

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “You should have.”

  “Oh you say that to all the girls who come down here to the dungeon to see you, don’t you?” I say teasingly.

  He chuckles and then chuckles again.

  “Fuck,” he grins through the bars.

  “What?”

  “It feels good to laugh.”

  “I know.”

  “It’s been a long time since I have,” he says quietly.

  My brow furrows, worried and I rake my teeth over my lip.

  “How long have you been here? I mean fighting for my father’s fights?”

  “Two years.”

  My heart wrenches.

  “Two years,” I choke out. He just shrugs.

  “Can I ask…” I shake my head. “Sorry, never mind.”

  “What did I do?” That’s what you want to ask, isn’t it?”

  I nod, and his eyes spark in the lamplight.

  “I tried to take from your father. I was stupid, and reckless, and I had a death wish. He caught me, but I’d already lost what I’d stolen.”

  “What’d you steal?”

  “Drugs,” he says without a pause. He arches a brow. “Not my smartest move. Your father caught up with me, but I didn’t have what I’d taken or the money, so he put me down here after I took out half his men when they came for me. Guess he saw promise in me as a fighter.”

  I look down, my heart sinking a little.

  “I’m so sorry,” I whisper.

  “Don’t be. I knew the risks of crossing a man like your father, or I should have before I did.”

  “Are you… I mean, will you ever get out?’

  Hush says nothing, and my smile falters.

  “No-no,” he growls. “Don’t let that go out.”

  “What?”

  “Your smile,” he says quietly. “It’s the only good I’ve seen in two fucking years, princess.”

  “Well, in that case,” I smile through my blush.

  “There it is,” he groans.

  “The other night…” I blush. “I can’t stop thinking about that.”

  “Neither can I,” he growls.

  “No one… I mean,” I bite my lip again. “No one’s ever done that to me.”

  He frowns. “How do you mean?”

  I blush and look down.

  “No one’s ever made me… you know.” I swallow. “Come before.”

  There’s a pause.

  “At all?”

  His voice is low and edged, and I shake my head.

  “How old are you, princess?”

  “Twenty-two,” I sigh. “My, uh, my dad has a way of scaring boys away.”

  “No one’s ever made you come,” he murmurs.

  “Uh-uh,” whisper.

  “Fuck do I want my hands on you right now,” he groans thickly. “I want to hold you. I want to taste your lips.”

  I gasp.

  “If no one’s made you come before, you have some serious catching up to do. And if no one’s made you come,” he grunts. “I’m betting no one’s ever told you how fucking beautiful you are. How sexy you are. How fucking hard you make them.”

  I gasp, the sound of his gruff voice and dirty words sending shivers thorough me.

  “I’ve spent two years in the darkness, princess,” he says softly. “Seeing you was the first ray of light I’ve seen since I came in here. Kissing you was the first warmth I’ve felt in as long. And it’s the first time I wanted a tomorrow since I came here and assumed I’d die here.”

  My chest tightens. “You’re not going to die here,” I whisper.

  Hush says nothing.

  “I want a hammer,” I say with a quiet giggle. “To tear this stupid wall down.”

  I blink suddenly at a thought.

  “Wait, can you break it?”

  He chuckles darkly. “I’m strong, but not that strong. I tried the first time they put me down here.”

  “I just want your hands on me again,” I whisper. “I want to hold you,” I blurt out. “I want to feel you again. Like…” I blush. “Like the other night.”

  “What do you want to feel?” he purrs.

  “You know…” I whisper. “You.”

  “Tell me.”

  I blush, looking into his eyes through the bars.

  “I want you to touch me again,” I whisper. “I want your hands on my waist, your lips on mine. I want to feel your…” I swallow, and heat blooms on my face.

  “Say it,” he growls.

  “I want to feel your… your cock,” I whisper.

  Hush groans. “Fuck, Catalina.”

  “I’ve touched myself every night since then,” I blurt out. Fuck it, I don’t care. Maybe it’s because it’s dark, or because he’s behind a wall. Maybe it feels a little like some sort of filthy, dirty confessional down here, where I can say anything.

  “Fucking hell, baby,” he grunts.

  “Sometimes during the day too,” I whisper. “I’ve snuck back to my room and just made myself come thinking about how big you felt against me.”

  There’s grunt, and then a crash, and I gasp as dust shakes from the wall.

  “That was stupid,” he grunts.

  I giggle. “Did you just try and break through?”

  “Yes,” he growls.

  “I—fuck, I want you.”

  “Come here,” he growls.

  I step towards the wall.

  “Closer, baby.”

  “I put the lantern down and move closer. Suddenly, I feel something, and I gasp and jump back. But then I realize that it’s him, putting his hand through the small opening under the window at maybe waist height.

  “Sorry,” he growls. “I should have warned you.”

  I swallow, stepping closer again. “It’s okay.”

  His hand cups my hip and grips my waist, and I gasp.

  “I’ve been missing that,” I whisper.

  “Me too,” he growls. “Fuck, Catalina. I’ve come so many times thinking of the other night.”

  I blush. “You have?”

  “Fuck yes,” he growls. “I’ve been hard ever since.”

  I moan quietly, and his hand tightens on me. It moves lower, and his fingers grip my skirt. He begins to tug at it, and heat sizzles through me.

  “Hush—”

  “My name is Bannon,” he growls. “James Bannon.”

  “James,” I whisper.

  “But I do like Hush. It’s what I was called even before I got here. I just wanted you to know my real name.”

  His hand tugs at my skirt, and I gasp, my body aching and pressing to the wall.

  “I want you, Catalina,” he growls.

  “I want you to have me,” I gasp.

  His hand pushes lower, boldly, until he’s cupping my pussy right through my skirt and panties.

  “Oh fuck,” I gasp.

  He pulls the skirt up, and then his hand slips under to cup my soaked panties.

  “Spread your legs,” he growls quietly.

  I moan, doing as he says. His fingers are so fucking big, and I whimper as he strokes one across my lips through the panties. I moan deeply.

  “Oh, God, that feels so good,” I gasp.

  “So fucking wet,” he grunts. “God, I love how wet you are already.”

  “I’ve been like that since the other night,” I whisper heatedly.

  He growls, gripping my panties and tugging them down. I blush, feeling them peel away from my sticky lips, and I rock my hips and let them down until they’re at my knees. Hush’s hand moves back between my legs, but this time, there’s nothing stopping him. This time, for the first time, a man is touching my bare, eager pussy.

  “Fucking hell, Catalina,” he growls, his th
ick fingers stroking my pussy.

  He groans, and his finger slides back and forth, and oh my God does it feel good. He strokes me, and then slides up to my clit. The huge tip of his finger rolls the little nub until I’m gasping. My forehead drops to the stone, and I pant, my eyes half closing as this beast of a man teases my clit. He eases his finger lower, and suddenly, he’s slipping inside.

  I gasp, the sheer size of his finger taking my breath away as he sinks it between my legs. I’m so wet, he glides right in, and when his thumb begins to tease my clit, I start to shake. His thick finger curls in and out slowly, teasing me and stroking my special spot as he rubs my clit. He growls, and when he takes his hand away, I pout.

  “I have to taste you,” he grunts. I look up into the window to see him bring his hand to his mouth. His fingers are slick and glistening with me, and I blush fiercely as I watch him suck them between his lips. He groans deeply, sucking wetly on his fingers before sliding them out. He slowly closes his eyes and growls.

  “Fuck, I need you.”

  His hand is back through, and back between my legs. I moan as he sinks his fingers back into me, pushing them in and out, in and out. His thumb rolls my clit, and my whole world begins to melt. I moan deeply, shameless rocking my hips against his hand as he touches me in all the right spots, where no one but me has touched before.

  I rock faster, the world spins around me, and the heat threatens to engulf me in flame.

  “Hush—” I gasp. “Oh my God, I… I—”

  “You’re going to come,” he growls. “And I want you to. You’re going to come for my fingers so I can lick them clean and taste that pretty pussy, Catalina,” he groans. “So fucking come for me, baby. Come for me.”

  I explode, gasping and clawing at the wall as the first orgasm at someone else’s hand shatters through me. I cry out, gasping and moaning and shaking as the climax thunders through me. Hush keeps his fingers there, stroking me and teasing my clit, until I’m a panting, whimpering mess.

  His fingers slowly slip from between my legs, and I watch as he brings them to his lips again. He groans, grunting as he licks them clean, and when he grunts again, I gasp.

  “Oh God, are you—”

  “Yes,” he groans.

  I moan, and when his hand slips back through the hole in the wall, I grab his wrist. I sink his fingers into me, gaping and trembling as he instantly brings me right back to the brink.

  “Oh fuck, Catalina,” he groans. “Come with me, baby girl. I’m stroking my big cock so hard for you, Catalina. This pretty pussy and the sweet taste of it is going to make me come so fucking hard.”

  I moan, and my eyes squeeze shut. He grunts and roars, and his finger drives deep into me, and suddenly, I’m coming again. I gasp, crying out and rocking on his hand as the second orgasm hits me hard, shaking me to my core as he snarls his own release on the other side of the wall.

  Slowly, I come back to earth. My ears are ringing, my face is hot, and my thighs are sticky and wet. And I’m on fucking fire. I’m floating, and I know one thing: nothing is ever going to be the same again.

  Chapter Eight

  Hush

  Two days later, they let me out of the hole. I give one of Manuel’s guys a new dent in his head for their troubles when he gets too close, which feels pretty fucking good, even if I get the shit tased out of me after. The day after that, I’m set to fight again.

  I’m not gonna lie, there is a thrill to hearing the crowd when they announce my name. I never really felt it before, but maybe now it’s because I’ve felt sun on my face again. I’ve felt something in my heart I buried long ago. When you’re dead, you don’t feel the feelings Catalina has set aflame inside of me. Which means I’m not dead after all.

  It means I am very much alive.

  I growl, rolling my neck as the doors open, and I step out into the ring. Fuck, the crowd is huge tonight. From the lights on in all the big-ticket box seats, I know Jorge has a bunch of VIPs here, too. Probably local government guys, police captains, who knows who else from the criminal underworld.

  My eyes scan the crowd, ignoring the crew of ragtag looking fiends across the ring from me. Finally, my eyes land on the box I’m looking for, and there, standing in the window with one palm on the glass, is her.

  My sunshine. My desert rose.

  My Catalina.

  Instantly, my blood warms. My skin feels tighter. My cock, in spite of the shit that’s about to go down, thickens and hardens. I can still imagine the taste of her on my lips, from days ago, and I remember the feel of her impossibly tight little cunt rippling and tightening on my thick finger when she came for me. I remember the way she flooded my hand with her honey, and I remember licking it clean.

  I remember coming so fucking hard for her, even with a goddamn wall between us.

  I look at her, and the rest of the place disappears. The crowds vanish, and the guys trying to kill me with chains and knives across the arena are ghosts. I look up there, and it’s just me and her.

  But then the alarm goes off, and with a roar from the crowd, we’re off. I blink, turning back to focus on the seven murderous thugs running at me. I sigh and crack my neck before I move into the fighting stance. These assholes don’t stand a chance—not a one. I used to feel at least a bit of remorse when I first got here. I mean I’m fine with hitting people, but I had no beef with the guys fighting me. Then I found out who they were—scumbags from local jails, utter fiends and villains—and I felt a whole lot less bad. Some of this crew tonight has the symbols of a well-known murderous gang that likes enslaving women tattooed on their faces.

  …I’m going to enjoy this.

  The bravest, or stupidest, of the group gets to me first—all fury and crazy in his eyes. But that rage turns to blind fear when my hand shoots out to wrap around his neck, hard. He’s got that look I’ve seen a hundred times now, that “what have I done with my life” look, before it’s gone, just like the light in his eyes. Two others get to me next, and I use the body of the first guy to fend them off. My foot shoots out, shattering one of their knees before I pick the other one up and pile drive him head-first into the ground.

  Three down, four to go.

  The next guy has a knife, but I break his wrist and drive it through his chest. Now I’m armed. I’ve done this dance a thousand times in two years, and I’m a fucking grand master at it now.

  The next two get cut before they know what hits them. One keeps coming, but he’s done soon enough. The final guy stops and pales, and he throws his knife down and backs away with his hands up. Fuck, I almost feel bad for him. But then I spot the tats on his neck—the ones from that same gang, and I know what those stars mean—it’s his female victims, and those fucking stars go all the way down to his collarbone.

  Oh, I’m defiantly going to enjoy this.

  I move on him like a fucking rhino. The little fucker screams, but I’ve got nothing but contempt in my eyes as I chase him down in four steps and grab him. The knife swings up from behind, getting him between the legs. Even if wasn’t about to end him, he won’t be using that on women who don’t want it anymore. The guy screams, and there’s blood fucking everywhere, but with one more slice of the knife to his neck, I end it fast.

  I’m not a psychopath. Hell, I’m not even a hand of justice or anything. I just hate shitheads like him.

  And then, it’s over. I look up, and my eyes meet hers. There’s something scared there, after what she just witnessed, and I feel bad, but then, I know she needed to see that. She needs to know that I’m, well, me. I’m not a monster, but I am the beast they say I am. I hold her gaze, and slowly, she smiles.

  Fuck that feels good.

  I grin, and my heart beats fast. I guess I’d wonder if she’d be horrified after watching me like this. And maybe she is, but she’s still smiling, and that’s all I need.

  “This way, puta,” Carlos chuckles.

  A bunch of them haul me back to my cell, guns and stun guns at the ready. I growl at
a few and get a taser to the small of my back now and then. Fucking cowards. I step through the door into my cage, when suddenly, something hard slams into the back of my neck.

  Mother fucker.

  Lightening explodes through my brain and realize it’s a taser hit right to the spine. I convulse, falling to the ground, and I hear laugher. I blink, barely able to breath, and I turn to see all of them chuckling as they turn and leave. All of them but Carlos. His look is hard, and he suddenly lunges forward, zapping me in the fucking neck again. And goddamn that hurts. I can’t move, or talk, and I can barely breath.

  “Nice fight today,” he hisses. “You cabrón puta madre,” he snarls. “The last one…” his eyes narrow at me. “He was my cousin, cabrón.”

  I frown. Shit.

  “I grew up with him, like a brother.”

  “Well, your brother was a piece of shit that liked to hurt women,” I snarl.

  Carlos scowls and winds back to kick me in the ribs with the toe of his combat boot, making me hiss. His face distorts in rage, and he moves closer. His fucking taser jabs out again, stabbing me with the prongs in the neck again, and I hiss in pain.

  Blackness clouds my vision, and Carlos moves closer.

  …But he’s too close.

  His rage is blinding him to the very real danger of being alone with me, in a cell. My hand clenches, my muscles coil, and my reflexes prepare.

  Carlos kicks out again, catching me in the side with his boot.

  “I’m going to make this hurt, Hush Hush,” he growls. “I can tell them whatever I want. You tried to escape maybe, no?” His hand shoots out again, and I grunt as the taser stabs into me again, sending lightning burning through my body. He swears and steps even closer, standing right next to me, standing right over me.

  …It’s the last mistake he’ll ever make.

  “Carlos,” I grunt.

  “Si, puta?” he hisses. “You want to beg? You want to beg me to make it fast, so you don’t—”

  “Just shut the fuck up.”

  My hand shoots out, I grab his ankle, and I twist, hard. The leg snaps as he falls, and before the shock wears off enough for him to scream, I’m on him. The taser I jam into his mouth, choking him before I push the button. He gurgles as his whole body convulses with the shocks. I mean hell, his fucking eyes light up as the current explodes though him. I pull the taser out and grab his neck. I’m not looking to torture the piece of shit, even if he is a piece of shit. But there’s no scenario where he walks away from this today.