Trouble in Hell (Hell Night 1)

Her arms band around my neck. I grip each leg and put them around my waist and lock her feet against my ass. The heat of her pussy through her jeans has my cock punching at the zipper of my pants. I should be ashamed of myself. I should stop this right now. Not only because of who she is and the trouble she could potentially cause for Malus and its people, but also because she’s still recovering from having a baby. But motherfucking hell, she feels damn good in my arms.

I dip down and take her lips in a kiss that’s too fucking hot for the situation. Running my tongue across her bottom lip, I take it between my teeth and tug gently. With a moan, she parts her lips and her tongue peaks out to meet mine. A deep groan leaves my throat. Given the chance, I don’t think I would ever get tired of kissing her. I could do it all damn day and night.

I snake an arm around her waist and tug her closer to me. I gently grind against her, not wanting to put pressure on a spot that still may be sore. I fist her hair and tilt her head to the side. My lips leave hers, and I trail wet kisses down the graceful slope of her neck.

“Trouble.” Her whimpered word comes out like a plea, and her hands tighten in my hair.

“I know.” The words vibrate from my throat.

I wish like fuck I could give her what she wants, but it’s not in the cards tonight. Or any night for that matter. What in the hell is it about this woman who takes away all reason?

I nip her collar bone and she sucks in a breath. I soothe my lips over the spot and kiss it tenderly. Using the hand wrapped around her back, I sneak my fingers under her shirt. Warm skin meets my fingertips. I keep the touch simple, but even simple has my cock turning to steel.

Knowing I need to stop this before it goes too far, I reluctantly pull my lips away from her shoulder. Her glazed eyes stare up at me, and I can’t help but lean down for another kiss. Her lips are soft and wet and taste like candy.

Her hands leave my hair and settle at my waist, her fingers gripping my shirt on my sides. I pull my hand from beneath her shirt, grip her hips, and set her on her feet. She’s unsteady, so I hold onto her until she gets her footing. Her eyes won’t meet mine, but I see the red that’s creeping along her neck. I force her head up by gripping her chin.

“Why are you embarrassed?”

She licks her lips then rubs them together before pursing them out.

“I just….” she stops, and her eyes slide away. After a moment, she brings them back. “I’m not ready, and I hate that I’m not ready.”

A smile tugs up my lips. “I hate that you’re not ready too,” I reveal, keeping my voice low. “But that’s okay.”

“It’s, uh, probably best that we don’t anyway.” She says it, but by her tone, she doesn’t like it.

“You’re probably right,” I agree, then tack on, “But some of the best things happen when you do things you shouldn’t do.”

Her eyes pop up to mine. Her mouth opens to say something, but a whimpered cry comes from inside. I lean down and peck her lips once more before letting her go. With a smile, she turns and walks back into the house. I run my fingers through my hair and twist my neck side-to-side, willing my body to calm the hell down.

I spend a few more minutes tending to the steaks then drop them on a plate. There are a few side dishes that I made before I went to get Remi and Elijah, so I carry the steaks inside. After she tends to Elijah, we can make our plates and carry them back outside. The sun is starting to set, so the heat of its rays is behind the bank of trees.

When I step through the door, I stop, my body locking tight at the sight before me. Remi’s on the couch with Elijah in her arms. She has a small blanket flipped over her shoulder, but I know underneath it her shirt is pulled up on one side, along with her bra.

“I’m sorry,” she says, and my eyes snap up to hers. There’s a cute little blush creeping up her cheeks, but she holds my stare. “He was persistent, and I didn’t know where else to go. I hope this is okay?”

I nod, because there’s no damn way I can form words right now. I really, really fucking like that she’s breastfeeding Elijah in my living room. I like seeing her on my couch doing something that a lot of people believe should be done privately. I’ve always felt that women should be able to breastfeed where ever in the hell they want. If a baby needs to be fed, then fuck everyone else. If they don’t want to see it, then they should be the one to leave the room. Not the other way around.

The act is intimate and natural, but also erotic. Not in a sexual way, but in the sense that she’s giving a part of herself to her child to ensure his survival. She’s putting her child’s needs first, even knowing I’d walk in and she’d be embarrassed.

I turn to the kitchen to give her privacy, but my eyes keep lifting of their own accord. The way she’s positioned, I have a side view of her. The blanket is no longer over her shoulder and she’s looking down at Elijah as he takes the nutrients he needs from her. Her hand is softly running over his headful of hair, every so often lightly trailing her finger over his nose and cheeks. Her smile is radiant as she whispers to him and it sends a lightness to my chest I’ve never felt before.

There’re not many things in life that I truly enjoy. I love being a doctor. I love my brothers. I love Mae. I love Malus and what we’ve accomplished here. Those are the only things that really bring me satisfaction and calms the raging emotions I’m constantly fighting. Watching Remi feed Elijah, though? I feel a tranquility that I’m so rarely given. I want more of it. I just don’t know how it’s possible. Her and Elijah are leaving, and even if she were willing to stay, there’s no way she would be okay with what we do here. Killing criminals is something ninety-nine percent of people won’t accept.

I fist my hands at my sides and turn away. For the first time since my brothers and I started this whole thing, I wish it could be different. I wish I wasn’t so fucked in the head and held so much hatred in my heart. I wish I could let the past go and look toward a future. I wish I could have things there’s no chance in hell I could ever have.

And that’s dangerous. I need to get my head back on straight and push away those unattainable wants, because they’ll only make it harder. There’s no way I could give up what we do. I’d be hurting the many people who would be traumatized if their future attackers aren’t stopped. Even so, I’m still going to take the short time I have left with Remi and Elijah.

A few minutes later, Remi walks into the kitchen. I’ve got our steaks, baked potatoes, and steamed asparagus on our plates and am just pulling out a bowl of fresh salad from the fridge. She walks up beside me at the counter, but adverts her gaze away.

“This smells delicious,” she remarks, eyeing the plates of food.

“Grab your plate and the salad bow

l and take it outside. I’m right behind you.”

She does as I ask, and I grab my own plate, along with another beer for me and a water for her. For the first several minutes we sit in silence, enjoying the peace and quiet. The patio has an open concept roof with vines wrapped around the exposed trellis so there’s still a nice breeze. It’s just dark enough to see the lightning bugs flashing in the trees.