Page 26 of The Heir

I’d never seen Uncle Easy color like that. His whole face was turning pink, while his knuckles were growing white around the wheel.

Trista sniffed, and awkwardly adjusted her hair.

“My love–” Trista calmly began.

“Fuck off, I know he’s your brother,” Easy grumbled.

I glanced toward Marchella; certain I’d been labeled a coward ten times over in her mind. My breath caught when I saw the way she was staring at me. She was smiling, and her eyes were filled with something that looked a whole lot like admiration.

“Brother or not, he deserves a few smacks.” Trista shrugged.

“Agreed,” Marchella chimed, snaring my hand with hers again. “He had no business bullying May with lies.”

Easy’s grip on the wheel lessened when Marchella openly announced her disbelief.

“My love, there is no such thing as a bail bond in Illinois. Missouri used to have them, but we don’t,” Aunt Trista finally managed to get out.

“Are you fucking serious? I got to drive all the way to St. Louis?”

Trista shoved playfully at his arm, “We aren’t going to St. Louis. I just scolded our son over bond money being spent, what the fuck does it look like if we suddenly find more loose cash to frivolously bail someone else out. Besides, they probably won’t give my brother a bond. Not with his criminal history and charges like that.”

“He’ll get bail, and I’ll be there to sign for it,” Easy calmly repeated.

“You’re gonna bail him out…for what? So, we then have to bail you out, too?” Trista asked, her tone condescending with her efforts to make him see how ridiculous he sounded.

“Yep.” Easy flippantly answered, flicking his blinker on, and finally turning to head back toward the house. “Tomorrow.”

Chapter Ten

Marchella

Easy and my Aunt Trista were an adorable couple. They loved each other fiercely, almost like they were fated to have been together, but oh when they encountered passing friction. It was a sight to behold, regardless of what walk of life you came from. There wasn’t any of that slap happy stuff his Aunt Daisy was always after Montana with, and he never trotted after her the way Oak did Crystal. It was more like a battle of will and wit. The kind of dance that lasted ten rounds, and only those two epic smart asses knew the steps and boundaries that defined it. A sound could have all the meaning in the world, and sometimes be the greatest come back. A snort. A chuff. Sometimes even the side glances they cut each other were victories all of their own.

Despite their banter and fuckery, it never dove beyond the pale. Easy never called her names, and Trista never brought his club into it. Those that knew them were usually more amused by their antics than concerned by any of it.

Easy pulled up to the curb in front of his and Trista’s house and saluted the porch with his chin.

“You guys wait here. I’m gonna get May and have Demon swing through with something to haul your ride down to Monty’s ol’ shop.”

“Appreciate it,” Blaze said, as if his uncle were somehow doing him a kindness rather than me.

I smiled, kept my mouth shut and slid out behind him. Blaze captured my wrist like he thought I might run. It was cute, even if his possessive grip was a little snug. I didn’t realize I was smiling about it, until I looked up in time to see Trista raise her gaze from our conjoined limbs to my face.

“I need a drink,” she announced, and hurried toward the front door.

She got it open and hurried inside. I shifted to follow her, and Blaze let go of my wrist, only to run his hand up the back of my neck, bury his fingers in my hair and tip my head back. His mouth stole the gasp right off my lips and he kissed me hard, and deep. His other hand slid along my jaw and his body shifted in front of me, pinning me between him and the rail.

My entire world narrowed until all that existed was his scent, and the warmth of his palms, guiding my face while he feasted on me and taunted my tongue with his. When he gave a final, firm nip to my lower lip, I realized I was clutching the front of his shirt in my hands. We remained so close together that my lips tingled from the threat of further contact with his, and our breath mingled between us.

His hands shifted and tension lit up either side of my head as he fisted two handfuls of hair.

“The only reason your father is still breathing is because I lost myself to the memory of your ass in these hands. You’ve no idea how many times I thought about you last night.” His gravelly tone heightened my awareness, and I closed my eyes and melted into his lips again, lured by the sound, and maybe if I was being honest… by what he was saying, too.

He returned the kiss fiercely, his hands drifting down my jaw and chest until the pads of his fingers were skimming my hips. Iknew he was going to do it, but I still drew in a breath when his hands found my ass and he lifted and clutched.

I wrapped my legs around him, hugging him with my thighs to draw him in close until I could feel him getting hard against me.

I wasn’t even aware of how fast my breath was coming until he let the rail help hold me and ripped his mouth away. One hand abandoned my ass and shot to my throat, snapping my airflow off without warning.