Page 57 of Indie
“No one is going to come in, little sparrow.” I trailed my lips down her stomach, sucking the skin into my mouth just as I stopped above her belly button.
Then, reaching for the waistband of her jeans, I flicked my thumb over the top, pulling both her jeans and her knickers down in one go. My cock throbbed against my own layer of denim, the heavy material rubbing torturously with each movement I made, or each thought I had about her. I pulled my t-shirt off over my head, watching her eyes cascade down my body, following my hands to the waistband of my jeans.
Popping the button, I pulled them down just to the top of my thighs, my hard-on bouncing free, smearing the pearly bead of pre-cum over the material. Emmie’s eyes never left my crotch, and I noticed again how she fixed on my cock, her teeth pulling at her bottom lip, her face colouring in beautiful embarrassment.
“It’s just a cock. And looks like cocks should.”
“It just doesn’t really look like what I’ve seen before… well, I’ve only ever seen Ga…”
She stopped, and now the embarrassment on her face had turned to fear.
Shit.
“I… I…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to mention…”
As my hand moved to her face, she winced, instinctively closing her eyes.
Shit.
“Emmie, baby. There’s no need to apologise. I would never hurt you. No matter what you say or do, Spuggy. Please understand that. I will. Never. Hurt. You.”
The knock on the door behind us broke the moment, and Emmie jumped again.
“Indie? You in there?” Magnet’s voice came from the other side of the door.
“Yeah. Just a moment.”
Emmie gasped, crossing an arm across her chest as she scrambled around for her clothes. I tucked my erection back into my jeans, pulling my t-shirt up from the floor and pulling it on over my head. Once Emmie was fully clothed again, I moved to the door, opening it fully.
“We have a problem, mate. Need you downstairs.”
Chapter Twenty Seven
Indie’s hand wrapped round mine, guiding me out of the room as we followed the man with the long hair and the long beard. He strode out, big, long steps, an urgent pace, the floorboards creaking loudly under our collective weight. The man in front of us muttered something to Indie, but even at my half-stride behind him I didn’t catch the words. But whatever they were, his hand squeezed round mine, releasing almost immediately as he realised his reaction and glanced sideways. I caught the corner of his eye before he looked away again,shielding his face and his expression from me. And now I was fearful, my heart gathering a rhythm deep in my chest.
We pushed back through the doors, taking us from Indie’s home and out into the pub again. Ahead of us, a row of men stood. A row of patches on leather, multiple crowned skulls ghoulishly laughing at us. Suzy sat upright at the table, Lily cuddling into her side, her eyes wild. On her other side sat Luke. I couldn’t see his face, but the Ciara’s arm wrapped around him, crossing over his chest, guarding him from something in front of them.
My heart bounded faster because whatever it was, the men seemed to have created a shield wall and the women were protecting the kids. Daisy stood on the other side of the table, her attention on what everyone else was looking at. The fur at the base of her neck stood on end, and as we drew closer, I could hear a deep guttural growl coming from her throat. I closed my hand around Indie’s, squeezing him tighter, the same tightness clinging to my neck, the steely fingers of fear closing around my windpipe.
Indie released me suddenly, his concentration on whatever was out there, and reluctantly I let him move from my side.
The movement of the two men must have caused a draught, enough to make the air circulate a little more, and now I smelt it. It was a burning smell, not that of wood, or of rubber, or anything particularly toxic, but it was familiar. Unpleasant. A memory formed, growing, the smell of burning when I was sat in front of a mirror, the memory of an ache in my arm, of holding something in my hand. And now I remembered that smell. The smell of burning hair when I’d left the tongs on it for too long, or when a strand of hair had wrapped itself around mystraighteners and was slowly burning away to nothing. Burning hair.
I shuffled towards the table, to where my kids sat, Lily looking for me and Luke’s face ashen with fear.
“What’s happening?” I asked Suzy.
“Someone threw in a burning cut.”
“Burning cut?” It made no sense.
“Yeah. They’ve set alight to a back patch and thrown it in. I saw movement, out of the corner of my eye, didn’t really pay much attention, but then that smell.”
“Burning hair?”
“Yeah, smells like it. But it’s the leather burning you can smell, babe. Stinks.”
“Who would even do that?”