wasn’t stupid, not by a long shot. He knew every detail, every shady undertaking, every single bad habit of the Legion brethren. And he kept quiet about it all.
Why?
Because he had nothing else. No one else. Not anymore. His service in the ’Nam war had almost killed him. He’d rarely spoken to me about the fields of landmines. The poisoned, perfectly placed punji stick traps. The rice fields and ambushes. Agent Orange. The dirty tactics that had stolen his life, his wife, his family when he’d come home and turned to the demon drink.
The Blood Legion—specifically Angel’s dad, also a Vietnam War vet—had taken Solomon in. Given him a home.
Every man needed that.
Even me, although I still ran from it like my ass was on fire. Because to love was to put other people in danger.
When I turned from Sol to survey my old room, I had serious second thoughts about his goodness.
“What the fuck did Lennox do to my room?”
The place was a fucking pigsty from the unmade bed and stained mattress to the piles of dirty plates and the pyramids of empty bottles, the dusty surfaces and rank-looking clothes.
Blaize appeared less than impressed. Probably trying not to plug her nose at the noxious smell of stale weed, old alcohol, and musty sweat and sex.
“Just get your old lady to clean it up tomorrow.” Solomon laughed as he shuffled back down the landing.
Blaize slammed the door behind him. She took several deep breaths. Probably trying to swallow her gorge.
When she rounded on me, her pretty blue eyes narrowed. “Now that we’re alone, I think we better get one thing straight, Nash. ”
Chapter Eight
Battle Wounds and the Biker Babe
“ AW . WHY YOU WANNA be like that, cher ? Can’t you see I’m hurtin’ here?” Retreating as Blaize advanced, I wore a loose grin on my lips.
Maybe the bashes I’d taken to my head made me dizzy. But I doubted it. The closer Blaize came in that sinful biker vixen get-up, the more my pulse ramped up. The woman was seriously sexy any given day. Put her in a bitch-takes-no-shit professional suit and I was salivating. Dressed in head-to-toe, fuck-me-on-your-Harley leather and I was a major fan. Despite my battle wounds, I was revved up and ready to fuck.
“The cher thing has to stop.” Blaize stomped in front of me, her voice taking on that lethal low, about-to-lash-out tone.
Hip swing, finger point, strut strut strut.
Seemed Blaize had already forgotten I was in charge. I’d remind her later. For now I merely smirked.
“Yeah? Can call you beb or sexy if you prefer.” I backed up against the wall beside the nearest floor to ceiling window.
“You’re getting into character far too easily.” She slid close enough I could smell her—the woman, the perfume, her shiny dark red hair.
“Part of the job.”
“Was Nikki part of the last job too?”
“Fuck.” I shook my head, hanging my thumbs in the low waist of my leathers. “You really wanna get into that now?”
Blaize aimed her gaze away.
Chucking her under the chin, I brought her face to mine. “Why’d you sign up for this detail? You have to know how I feel about you, Blaize.” Like I was a drowning man whenever I got near her and she was the only chance for a lungful of oxygen.
Her lips. Her warmth. Her body. Beneath mine.
Like my skin was on fire and no amount of water could put out the flames.
She coiled away from me, rolling back her shoulders. “How you feel is none of my concern and has nothing to do with this op, and you know that.”
A frustrated laugh blew from my lips, and I winched my head on my neck. “ Merde . You know there’s no place to escape from me now, yeah? You get that if I can’t have you I’m gonna have someone else.”
“You won’t break cover.”
“Legion dudes are notoriously promiscuous. Ain’t no one gonna hold it against me if I sink my cock into another honey.”
“Another honey ?” Her heated words were like a slap across the face. “This
Why?
Because he had nothing else. No one else. Not anymore. His service in the ’Nam war had almost killed him. He’d rarely spoken to me about the fields of landmines. The poisoned, perfectly placed punji stick traps. The rice fields and ambushes. Agent Orange. The dirty tactics that had stolen his life, his wife, his family when he’d come home and turned to the demon drink.
The Blood Legion—specifically Angel’s dad, also a Vietnam War vet—had taken Solomon in. Given him a home.
Every man needed that.
Even me, although I still ran from it like my ass was on fire. Because to love was to put other people in danger.
When I turned from Sol to survey my old room, I had serious second thoughts about his goodness.
“What the fuck did Lennox do to my room?”
The place was a fucking pigsty from the unmade bed and stained mattress to the piles of dirty plates and the pyramids of empty bottles, the dusty surfaces and rank-looking clothes.
Blaize appeared less than impressed. Probably trying not to plug her nose at the noxious smell of stale weed, old alcohol, and musty sweat and sex.
“Just get your old lady to clean it up tomorrow.” Solomon laughed as he shuffled back down the landing.
Blaize slammed the door behind him. She took several deep breaths. Probably trying to swallow her gorge.
When she rounded on me, her pretty blue eyes narrowed. “Now that we’re alone, I think we better get one thing straight, Nash. ”
Chapter Eight
Battle Wounds and the Biker Babe
“ AW . WHY YOU WANNA be like that, cher ? Can’t you see I’m hurtin’ here?” Retreating as Blaize advanced, I wore a loose grin on my lips.
Maybe the bashes I’d taken to my head made me dizzy. But I doubted it. The closer Blaize came in that sinful biker vixen get-up, the more my pulse ramped up. The woman was seriously sexy any given day. Put her in a bitch-takes-no-shit professional suit and I was salivating. Dressed in head-to-toe, fuck-me-on-your-Harley leather and I was a major fan. Despite my battle wounds, I was revved up and ready to fuck.
“The cher thing has to stop.” Blaize stomped in front of me, her voice taking on that lethal low, about-to-lash-out tone.
Hip swing, finger point, strut strut strut.
Seemed Blaize had already forgotten I was in charge. I’d remind her later. For now I merely smirked.
“Yeah? Can call you beb or sexy if you prefer.” I backed up against the wall beside the nearest floor to ceiling window.
“You’re getting into character far too easily.” She slid close enough I could smell her—the woman, the perfume, her shiny dark red hair.
“Part of the job.”
“Was Nikki part of the last job too?”
“Fuck.” I shook my head, hanging my thumbs in the low waist of my leathers. “You really wanna get into that now?”
Blaize aimed her gaze away.
Chucking her under the chin, I brought her face to mine. “Why’d you sign up for this detail? You have to know how I feel about you, Blaize.” Like I was a drowning man whenever I got near her and she was the only chance for a lungful of oxygen.
Her lips. Her warmth. Her body. Beneath mine.
Like my skin was on fire and no amount of water could put out the flames.
She coiled away from me, rolling back her shoulders. “How you feel is none of my concern and has nothing to do with this op, and you know that.”
A frustrated laugh blew from my lips, and I winched my head on my neck. “ Merde . You know there’s no place to escape from me now, yeah? You get that if I can’t have you I’m gonna have someone else.”
“You won’t break cover.”
“Legion dudes are notoriously promiscuous. Ain’t no one gonna hold it against me if I sink my cock into another honey.”
“Another honey ?” Her heated words were like a slap across the face. “This
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