Devil's Vow (Devil's Martyrs MC Book 5) Read online

  But then Melody was leaning forward and he was drawn towards her helplessly. Their lips clashed together, and everyone faded away again, in that odd way that only Melody caused. He could taste the sweetness of her on his tongue and his whole body urged him to pull her close, to feel her lush curves against his hardness, but he forced himself to stand there, as still as he could while her chaste kiss wrecked him.

  When she finally pulled away, Christian felt another surge of desire as he saw her eyes sparkle with the same heat that was burning him up from the inside out. He wanted to take her hand and leave, head straight to the hotel room that Bianca had insisted they rent for their wedding night.

  He knew that was a fantasy. For his plan to work, he had to play the part. They both did. Still, he hated to see Melody shutter her gaze. And, when she looked up at him again, the lust and need that had gleamed in her eyes a moment before was gone.

  “Are you ready, Wife?” Christian asked softly, holding out one hand.

  Melody stared at it a long time before placing her palm against his.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be. Husband.” She said the last word on a laugh, as if it had tasted funny on her tongue. “It sounds so odd, doesn’t. ‘Wife.’ ‘Husband.’”

  He leaned close, so he could whisper against her ear.

  “Remember. It’s just for a little while. And then we’re both free.”

  Christian couldn’t help himself from breathing deep, inhaling the unique sultry scent of her and sweeping his lips across the soft skin of her neck. They were standing so close together that he could feel her shudder, but whether it was from his words or his touch he wasn’t sure.

  All too soon the crowd around them was clapping and cheering as they walked back down the makeshift aisle and were swept up in the revelry and everyone made their way across the street to the V.F.W. Bianca had rented out for the reception.

  Dinner passed in a blur. Christian was pretty sure he hadn’t tasted a bite of food, but glasses of stale champagne and then whiskey kept getting shoved into his hand until the entire room and everyone in it was blurry as well.

  He and Melody had their first dance together as man and wife and it was two minutes of pure torture. Christian held her but was careful not to hold her too close. He could feel it in his arms. She was like a bird, perched in his embrace for the moment, but the smallest thing would startle her into flight. And that was the last thing he wanted to do.

  Christian was staggered to realize that what he truly wanted was for her to trust him. He wanted her to lean against him without that shadowed look in her eye. To smile at him without guarding her light from view. To let him touch her without flinching away as if bracing for the inevitable blow.

  It was hard to keep the anger away. Anger at Enrique. Anger at himself. He had to bite his cheek to keep from saying any of his thoughts out loud as he turned and stalked away when their dance ended. He didn’t want to take it out on her. That was the last thing in the world he’d ever do.

  So instead of turning to Melody, he grabbed another drink from the bar and tossed it back. Christian’s gaze scanned the crowd but was drawn back to her again and again. His wife. He nearly laughed out loud. It did sound odd. Incredibly odd. But deep down there was a rightness to it that made sweat break out on his palms.

  It’s only temporary. A few days, a few weeks at most, and they would both be walking their own paths. Alone.

  He held that thought in his head as the night wore on and, all too soon, they were being shuffled out of the door by a very tipsy Bianca. She waved them both on their way as they got into the cab that would take them to the hotel that the older woman had booked for them.

  Christian had said it wasn’t worth the expense, but she’d said it would make it look more realistic, and it would keep Melody safe for a few days away from the crew so that Hub could make sure in no uncertain terms that she was off limits.

  They also had no idea how Enrique would retaliate. Hub had stated bravely that the man wouldn’t dare make another move against the gang, but Christian wasn’t so sure. Hell, he wasn’t sure of much of anything at the moment.

  The only facts left in his liquor hazed world was the cab lurching forward and Melody’s warm thigh pressed close to his in the back seat as the town of Hightower, Texas, passed by them in streaks of neon light.

  They didn’t speak a word as they rode in the back of the cab, passed the lights, not stopping until they reached the hotel. As they checked in, an awkward tension started to settle between them, starting with the smirk from the man behind the front desk. It grew until it choked Christian, thickening in the air until he could hardly breathe.

  He held the door of their room open with a sigh of relief at being away from the knowing eyes that followed them, but it was short-lived. A single, king-sized bed dominated the room.

  It was obviously the honeymoon suite, damn Bianca. He was going to have a few words to say to her the next time he saw her. At the moment though, he was so tongue tied as he looked around that he couldn’t get out a single word.

  There were flower petals strewn across the bed and a chilled bottle of champagne and glasses waiting for them on nightstand.

  He made a beeline for the bottle, taking his time pouring them two glasses. It gave him more time to stall before having to figure out what to say.

  Suddenly, Melody was in front of him and, when she took the cold champagne flute from his numb fingers, their hands brushed, and he wasn’t numb at all anymore. That damned electric shock flooded his system and he looked up at her.

  Their gazes clashed, his bright blue, hers dark and fathomless. But now there was nothing hiding the heat in them.

  “Melody, I…”

  “Kiss me,” she whispered, stalling whatever it was he’d been about to say.

  “What?”

  “I want you to kiss me, Christian.”

  Melody took a step closer and Christian set his glass back down. He didn’t need to be told again.

  He swept her into his arms, just like he’d wanted to so badly during their first dance and he’d reveled in the feel of her pressed against him, hip to hip, thigh to thigh, and everything in between. Their lips met just as suddenly, and it stole the breath from his lungs and the few thoughts that the champagne had left behind. His mind went blank as his body raged. His fingers stumbled over the row of small buttons on the back.

  “Wait, let me turn around,” Melody said, laughter in her voice as she turned in his arms.

  He attacked the buttons again. It took the utmost concentration to finally get them undone and he was startled to find his fingers trembling as he slid the silky fabric down across her shoulders. It skimmed her body to land in a rustle of fabric at their feet.

  The sight of her standing there in front of him, in nothing but a skimpy lace bra and matching thong, drove the rest of his pounding blood straight south.

  With a growl, reveling in the sound of her startled laugher, Christian picked her up and laid her on the bed. She was driving him insane. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t breathe. All he could do was need. And he needed her, damnit. He needed her now.

  But as he climbed on top of her nearly naked form, Christian could feel her body stiffen like a board beneath him. He looked up at her face and the expression he saw was like a bucket of cold water dumped on his ardor.

  Christian pulled back, a question of his own shining in his blue eyes.

  “I’m sorry, I…” Melody stuttered, suddenly pushing him away instead of pulling him frantically closer. “I thought…I want to, but…maybe it’s just too soon for me.”

  Her words flew out all in a rush and it was hard enough for Christian to make sense of anything through the red haze of lust that still held him in its grasp. But, finally, the meaning made its way clear and he dropped to the edge of the bed with the sigh.

  “It’s okay, Mel,” Christian rasped, his voice still gruff and his body still painfully hard.

  But he knew what he’d see
n flash across her face. It was fear. No, more than that. Terror. And pain.

  He let his head drop into his hands, trying to pull his body back from the edge before grabbing the still full flute of champagne and downing it in one gulp. The carbonation burned his throat and he focused on that. Anything but the need and desire still riding his body.

  With a sigh of resignation, he turned and moved to shut off the lights.

  “I really am sorry, Christian,” Melody’s soft voice wafted out of the darkness of the room.

  He just shook his head.

  “You have nothing to be sorry for. Just get some rest, okay? We’ll talk in the morning.”

  “Okay. Goodnight, Christian.”

  “Goodnight, Mel.”

  “Sweet dreams.”

  Christian nearly snorted. There wasn’t much chance of that, not with the state he was in, but he didn’t say that out loud. Instead, he curled his too-long body up on the too-short couch and listened to the sound of Melody’s breathing fill the hotel room.

  Chapter 15

  Melody had to drag herself from the comfort of slumber and her mind fought her the entire way. She was still trying to cast off the last dregs of sleep as she blinked open heavy eyelids.

  Golden sunlight blinded her and, for a long moment, all she could see was a kaleidoscope of colors dancing in front of her gaze before the honeymoon suite came into focus once more. Memory from the night before flickered just out of reach and, for one happy moment, she was blissfully ignorant. And then everything that had happened came back to her with a deafening crash.

  Holy shit! She was married!

  Melody forced herself to draw in a deep breath, trying to fight the flood of panic at the thought. She was married. She was a wife. Melody glanced down at the ring sparkling brightly on her left hand. She was married to Christian. It hadn’t been a dream after all.

  A part of her had been sure that it was all a figment of her imagination. That she would wake up back in Enrique’s bed, in Enrique’s lavish house, full of dread, waiting for him to come back to her.

  A sudden thought occurred to her, bursting like a bubble inside her. She was free. Melody rolled over, staring into the morning sunlight, marveling at the feeling that permeated her entire body, pushing the panic away.

  She was free!

  Enrique couldn’t touch her anymore. No one could.

  Except for Christian.

  The thought had the panic rising again, but she didn’t feel the same fear towards the Devil’s Martyrs member that was now her husband as she did for Enrique.

  But still, the thought of Christian had her looking around the honeymoon suite for him. She was in the bed, alone. Her gaze traced around the room, landing on the couch that still had a blanket laid messily over half of it. He must have slept there the night before, letting her have the bed.

  “Not much of a wedding night,” she snorted softly under her breath.

  She could hear the shower running in the bathroom. A flicker of embarrassment filled her about how she had reacted the previous night. She had wanted him.

  It had surprised her, the depth of her desire, seeing him standing there in his tux, the tie undone, his hair tousled and an edge to him that she hadn’t noticed before. It was sexy as hell. Her body’s reaction to him had shocked her, but she’d had enough alcohol in her system to lower her inhibitions enough to ask for what she wanted.

  Then he’d kissed her. Melody touched a fingertip to her lips and swore she could still feel the tingling sensation that had rolled through her as his mouth met hers. That kiss had stolen her breath, and her wits.

  But when Christian had rolled on top of her, his weight pressing her to the bed, memories had assaulted her. All she’d been able to see was Enrique the night he forced the tattoo of his name into her skin, when he had hit her and held her down and…

  Melody cut off the thought viciously, letting out a shuddering breath as bile churned inside her. Christian isn’t Enrique, she reminded herself. They weren’t even in the same world. Hell, not even the same universe.

  The more she learned about Christian, the surer she was that he wasn’t the type of man to take pleasure in hurting others. That he really was different. Better. Kinder.

  “Well, I thought Enrique was different once, too,” Melody whispered, picking at the comforter as her thoughts whirled.

  That same old distrust rose inside her, and she wondered if she should flee while Christian was still in the shower.

  But before the thought was even fully formed, Christian stepped out of the bathroom and all thoughts of leaving flew from her mind.

  He had a towel draped low across his hips, but it was too small to cover all of him. Melody could see most of his thigh through the gap of the towel. Heat filled her as she let her gaze travel over the rest of his body.

  Beads of water still ran from his blond hair, darkened by the shower. The droplets rolled down across his broad shoulders and muscular chest, lower still down his rippling abs. Suddenly, Melody was short of breath and she was thinking about that kiss all over again.

  A part of her sorely regretted that she hadn’t taken advantage of him the night before. And, damn, there was a lot to take advantage of. A whole lot.

  She couldn’t tear her eyes away from him as he moved quietly around the room, searching for his clothes. He fumbled for a pair of jeans and dropped the towel.

  Melody made a noise in the back of her throat. She couldn’t help it. Christian must have heard because a second later he spun around, his blue gaze widening on hers as a flush spread across his face. He scrambled for the towel but not before she got an eyeful.

  “Sorry, I thought you were still sleeping,” Christian stuttered.

  Melody just stared. She couldn’t have dragged her gaze away if a gun had been pointed to her head.

  “Not anymore,” she finally answered, far more breathlessly than she would have liked.

  There was a sudden tension in the room, which made it even harder to breathe, as their eyes locked in a stare.

  Melody blinked, and the spell was broken.

  “Um, I guess I should take a shower too. If you’re done in there.”

  Melody forced the words from lips that still tingled from the remembered kissed.

  “What?”

  “The bathroom? Are you done in the bathroom?”

  “Oh, yeah. Go ahead,” Christian said, shaking his head as if waking from a dream.

  Melody nodded and slid from beneath the covers. An odd sound came from behind her and she looked over her shoulder to see Christian’s blue eyes shining with heat and desire.

  With a gasp she realized she was still wearing nothing but the scrap of lace she’d worn under the wedding dress and hurried into the bathroom.

  As she got in, she was still trembling, but from desire or embarrassment she didn’t know. She just prayed that, by the time she was done with her shower, she would have gotten her haywire body back under control.

  She knew they had to figure out what their next move would be if they really were going to get free. That was the important thing. That was her priority. But then why was Christian’s kiss the only thing filling her mind?

  Chapter 16

  Christian forced himself to take a deep breath. And then another. And another. The sound of the shower hit him, along with the mental image of Melody, wet and slick, as the water trailed down her lush curves and sweet body.

  “Damn it.” He cursed, low and hard. Never in his life had he been jealous of a fucking shower. This would be a first, he guessed. Well, he’d had a lot of firsts lately. First time getting married. First time having a wife.

  Christian spun away, running his fingers through his hair, as he tried desperately to banish the images that were torturing him. All last night, he had laid on that damned couch, tossing and turning, listening to Melody as her breath slowly evened into the rhythm of sleep.

  Sometime in the middle of the night, she’d had a bad dream and she’d
cried out in her sleep. But when he’d gone went to check on her she had been laying peacefully again, the nightmare over.

  He wondered how many nightmares she’d had to deal with on her own. Or if she had turned to Enrique in the middle of the night, looking for comfort.

  And that train of thought wasn’t any better. Thinking of her and Enrique together made his blood boil. He had a feeling that the man wasn’t the comforting type. Not judging by her reaction the night before.

  He wanted to ask her about it, he wanted to know the truth. But a part of him never wanted to hear the words. Like it would make it more real somehow.

  It’s real for her, asshole, Christian snorted to himself as he stalked across the room, anger and desire warring and tangling inside him into a volatile combination. The thought of anyone hurting Mel had his blood boiling. And, after the painful sleepless night, he was already on edge.