Page 7

Blaze

“Is that her?”

An elbow to my side nearly forces my gaze from the girl standing by the flickering firepit, her laughter dancing in the warm evening air. For a solid hour, I’ve been watching her, captivated by how the flames illuminate her features and the way she lights up when she smiles.

I’ve never seen her smile like that before.

In the days since I met her, I have been neglecting my club duties and following Ingrid around like some lost puppy looking for its owner.

Something has tethered me to her, and I can’t bring myself to break away from her, unless of course I’m doing something to help her.

Once I realized what a lazy asshole her landlord is, I’ve been taking care of Ingrid, making her life easier in any way possible, from something as simple as changing the light in her closet or fixing her hot water, to putting the fear of God in her obnoxiously loud neighbor.

In that time, I have witnessed a lot of emotions on that pretty face.

I’ve seen her sad, surprised, and even read confusion in her expression.

She always looks so fucking gorgeous when she’s concentrating on her work, and I’ve sometimes spied a smile on her face, but nothing like what I’ve witnessed tonight.

She’s smiling now.

Whatever it is Jade is saying must be funny enough to elicit such a reaction from a girl who seems to hide in a shell, oblivious to her own beauty.

She always avoids eye contact and looks down when people are talking to her.

Is this to hide those beautiful and unique mismatched eyes?

She does the same thing with her birthmark—angling her head to the side and letting her hair fall in such a way that whoever is talking to her doesn’t see the pretty crescent moon birthmark on her cheek.

She has nothing to hide, Goddamnit!

I want to hunt down whoever told her that she was anything but a fucking masterpiece and teach them a lesson.

Ingrid is the most stunning woman I have ever seen.

In my life, I have been around beautiful women of all shapes and sizes, but not one of them has ever grabbed and kept my attention the way Ingrid does by simply existing.

She draws me in like the moon pulls at the tide, and I am helpless to do anything about it.

Ingrid has slowly turned me into an obsessed madman. One who can barely function without getting his daily dose of her. All I want is to take care of her.

Protect her. Mark her. Claim her.

I want to make her mine. Touch every inch of that perfect body.

Kiss that perfect mouth and the birthmark she hides from the world.

Have those eyes focus on me and only me as I pleasure every inch of her body until she’s wet and desperate.

Fuck, I want to bury my face between those sexy legs, lap her at her pussy, and make her all slick for me.

My cock aches with the thought of fucking her. In my room downstairs, my bike, or at her place. It doesn’t fucking matter where it happens, I’ll rock her world. Every slam into her wet pussy will claim her as mine. I want to watch her come apart in my arms before I mark her with my seed.

Fuck, the image alone is enough to have my stiff cock aching behind my fly, but I ignore it.

Patience.

I can’t afford to spook her with my fevered need, especially not when she’s this guarded around people.

I can wait. I will wait.

“Are you going to stand here all night watching her?” Axel asks at my side, his voice carrying a teasing tone. He’s leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and grinning widely at me.

“Fuck off, Axel,” I grunt, turning back to look at Ingrid and ignoring the club’s official mechanic.

Axel is one of the people I consider family and the only one who would willingly approach me when I am in this mood.

My scowl and dark mood have kept people away most of the night, but Axel is the kind of guy to poke the hornet’s nest.

“I’ve known you for what, ten years?” he muses. “This is the first time I have seen you mope over someone. You know, one of the prospects was talking about hitting on her—”

My head whips around, mind flashing with fury and murderous thoughts. “Who?”

The fucker laughs, patting my shoulder. “I don’t want to worry about burying a body on a Sunday night. This is the one time of the month I get to relax and not worry about club business.”

“Who?” I ask again, and this time, my eyes shift to scan the men chatting and drinking around the firepit.

I scan their faces, looking for anyone watching Ingrid, and I note a couple of guys looking her way.

The interested look I read in their expressions sends possessive and murderous thoughts racing through my mind.

Axel places a hand on my shoulder when I take a step forward, stopping me in my tracks. “Calm down, tiger,” he says, serious this time. “You have not claimed that girl, and as far as anyone else is concerned, she’s here as Jade’s friend. Free for the picking.”

“She’s mine!” I growl.

“And everyone will back off once you make that clear. Hiding in the shadows and watching her proves nothing.”

Fuck, he’s right.

It’s no use picking fights with my brothers when none of them would prey on a taken girl. Ingrid is getting all the attention she is because, to them, she belongs to no one. If only she hadn’t returned my jacket earlier….

My eyes are locked on her when she excuses herself from the group, and I watch her leave, assuming she’s headed inside for the bathroom. I give it a few minutes before following her.

It’s time I stake claim over my girl before these fuckers get any ideas.

Ingrid walks alone downstairs to the hall bathroom, and I stop in the hallway a few feet from the door, leaning against the wall as I wait for her to come out.

Following people undetected has always been my job as the club’s enforcer, but I never once imagined that I would stalk someone because I was attracted to them.

Attracted? I chuckle at the ludicrous word that pops into my thoughts. What I feel for Ingrid is far too strong and all consuming to be described by such a fleeting word.

Obsessed.

Now that’s the right emotion to describe how I feel about her.

My eyes are on her when she finally opens the bathroom door.

Ingrid doesn't immediately move to return to the roof. She shuffles her feet, biting her lip the way she does when she’s contemplating something, and it drives me crazy every time she does it.

She plays with her hands and fiddles with something out of sight on the bathroom counter, and I can tell she’s stalling for time.

It’s clear she’s not ready to head back yet, and I don’t blame her.

I love my club family, but they can be a lot to handle, especially for a newcomer.

Still oblivious to the man watching her in the shadows, Ingrid exits the bathroom and crosses the hall to look out the window on the opposite wall. The moonlight cascades through the glass, illuminating her in a soft, ethereal glow that makes her look like she’s been plucked straight from a dream.

Convinced that she's alone, she takes a moment to just breathe, and my heart races with the way the light dances across her features, highlighting the delicate curve of her jaw and the gentle swell of her lips.

She's not hiding.

Alone, she doesn't hide the way she does when faced with the rest of the world.

I watch with pleasant surprise as she runs her fingers through her hair and pulls it from her face, the dark strands shimmering under the moon's glow.

She tilts her head slightly, looking up at the moon and letting the soft light caress her skin.

The dark crescent moon birthmark is visible in the dim light, offering me a view of her I have not seen in my days of shadowing her.

It's enchanting. She's enchanting.

Suddenly, as if sensing my gaze, she turns around.

Her eyes scan the darkness, and for a brief second, I hold my breath, hoping she doesn’t see me—I’m not ready for the show to end.

But when her gaze finds mine, the world around us fades away.

I see surprise flicker across her face, and I wonder if she can sense the way my heart beats just for her.

“Blaze.” I read my name on her lips. She stands frozen, but only for a moment before she quickly shifts in her demeanor.

It’s like a switch has been flipped—the carefree girl I was just admiring suddenly becomes alert, her body tensing from being caught in a moment she didn’t want to share.

I notice her instinctively reach up to touch her face, her fingers brushing against the birthmark she always tries to hide.

I can’t help but feel a surge of frustration at the reminder that she feels the need to conceal any part of herself from me.

“I've never met anyone like you,” I say, my voice carrying down the hall to her. Everything in me wants to bridge the distance between us and kiss her. The moonlight continues to bathe her in its glow, and I can’t help but be entranced by the way it highlights her features, even the birthmark she's trying to conceal. “No one quite as stunning.”

I watch uncertainty flicker in her eyes, and I want to reach out and pull her into my arms where she belongs.

Patience!

I can't afford to send her running.

“Y-you think I'm stunning?”

“You are,” I rasp, but I can see it in her eyes that she doesn't believe me. “Do you even realize how much attention was on you tonight? How many guys were looking your way—wanting you.”

She shakes her head. “Jade—”

“They were looking at you,” I say firmly, a fresh wave of jealousy flooding in. “I know because I was looking at you .”

She inhales sharply at my words. It's frustrating that she can't see her appeal. Doesn’t believe that anyone would want her when she’s easily the most beautiful girl in the world. No one that I have met before holds a candle to Ingrid. No one.

But it seems someone broke her confidence to bits, and I want to find and kill them.

“If what you're saying is true, then they weren't looking at me for the reasons you're thinking.”

“Baby—”

“I draw attention everywhere I go,” she cuts in. “I’m not deluded into thinking that people find me stunning.” She smiles without mirth. “When they look at me, it’s because they are curious or…disgusted.”

“That can’t be true—”

“My mismatched eyes freak people out. People see actors with heterochromia in movies and think they look pretty and hot or whatever, but when they meet me, it’s different.

” She looks away, but not before I catch the way her eyes glisten with unshed tears.

“I tried wearing contacts when I was a kid, but they hurt my eyes so I stopped. And the mark on my face... Most people act like it’s some disease I'm going to pass to them, and I always have to tell them that it's a birthmark...”

“Ingrid—”

“So, if your friends were looking at me, it's because they were curious. The most common question most people ask is what eye color I would choose if I could ditch one. I don’t have the answer for that in case you were wondering.” She chuckles but the sound is broken.

“The other common question is if I've ever considered getting a face tattoo to cover my birthmark—”

Fuck this!

I step out of the shadows and cross the distance to her in fast, long strides. I only have a brief moment to see her eyes light up in surprise before my mouth slams down on hers, tasting the tears on her lips. She makes a startled sound, gasping into my mouth, but I don’t stop.

The first crush of lips together is electric, and I immediately feel relief. Finally. I’ve wanted to kiss her from the second I saw her standing outside the clubhouse looking all shy and innocent. My hands are on her nape and tangling in her hair as I open my mouth over hers, hot and searing.

I want her.

It’s not a new discovery. No, I’ve wanted this girl from the moment I saw her, but in this moment, I want her with a desperation so strong, it scares the hell out of me.

“Open for me, angel,” I say thickly. She moans, her lips opening against mine, and that’s all I need to deepen the kiss.

I’m a hungry beast as I lick into her mouth, sipping at her sweetness until my heart threatens to cave in.

She whimpers when our tongues tangle, and I feel her buck against me, her breathing growing labored with every searing kiss.

Ingrid gasps when I break the kiss, twisting my grip in her hair as I tilt her face up toward the sky and kiss her jaw.

I groan as I kiss her chin, fingers clenching hard in her hair as I trail my lips to the beauty mark she’s constantly trying to conceal.

Not tonight. Never again, if I can help it.

She lets out a breathy moan when I brush my lips over the dark spot, telling her without words how gorgeous she is.

“You are so fucking beautiful,” I say thickly, dipping my mouth to her neck and nipping at the sensitive spot over her pulse.

God, she smells amazing; I could spend an eternity buried in her skin and live off her sweet scent.

“Blaze—”

“I want you!” I grind out, pulling back so she can read the truth on my face. Her lips are swollen, and fuck if that doesn’t nip at my control. “Let me show you just how beautiful you are, angel.”

She inhales sharply, her pretty eyes widening as my words sink in. I see the doubt wash over her and realize that I have more work ahead to undo whatever the hell she’s been told in the past.

The silence stretches between us, thick with tension so strong it sparks with heat. There is conflict in her eyes, but I read desire too. She wants to believe me. She wants this but is afraid to explore it. “H-here?” she finally exhales, looking around at the empty hallway.

“All you have to do is say yes.”

She chews on her bottom lip before nodding. “Yes, but what if someone—”

My hands drop from her hair to the back of her thighs.

She makes a startled gasp when I crouch and lift her into my arms; instinctively she wraps her legs around my hips as I carry her back into the bathroom and kick the door shut behind us.

“I’m going to make you mine.” I set her down on the counter.

“Let me show you how gorgeous you are,” I sat before my lips fuse with hers again.