Blood & Bones: Whip (Blood Fury MC 11)

The crackle and pop of the dried bud igniting and burning filled the silence.

She wrinkled her nose. The scent of whatever strain he was smoking was strong.

After his first deep inhale, he held it for a few seconds, then tipped his head back and to the side to release the smoke.

He relaxed even more, his muscles loosening, and he began to rake his fingers gently through her chin-length hair.

She had cut it that short years ago thinking it would be easier to maintain than when it was longer. It wasn’t but she really liked the style and the way it framed her face. She could wear it up or leave it down, depending on her mood. Even better, it was the perfect length to keep tucked under her helmet so her hair didn’t end up in a knotted mess while riding Agnes.

It actually looked better when it was mussed versus neatly brushed.

“Saw the tat you got on the back of your shoulder. Truthfully, didn’t expect you to have any ink.” He took another long draw on the joint, holding the smoke deep.

“Some people have a problem with tattoos. I’m not one of them. However, I do prefer them not to be on the face or neck. I find that a bit distracting.”

“Think my mom would still try to tan my hide if I got them on my neck or face.”

Fallon laughed. “I’d pay to see her try. But I agree with her. You’re way too cute to mark up your face.”

“Not out to be cute.”

“Handsome, then.” If he kept combing his fingers through her hair, she might very well fall asleep, but she was loving every second of the unexpected tenderness.

Again, he kept surprising her.

He was so not what she expected.

He was so much more.

“Not handsome. You said smokin’ hot. Too late to take it back now.”

“Well, that, too, of course.”

“Prefer to be smokin’ hot over cute or handsome.”

“Can’t you be all three?”

He shrugged. “You tell me.”

“Then, yes, you can.”

“Speakin’ of smokin’...” He held the joint in front of her face. “Want a hit?”

She stared at it for a couple of heartbeats. Should she?

No, the question should be: Why shouldn’t she? It was late and they weren’t going anywhere. They were just relaxing after a good night together of dinner, drinks and sex. So, why not “chill” in the best way possible?

She didn’t answer to anyone but herself. She could do… Whatever. The. Hell. She. Wanted.

That made her smile.

“Guessin’ that smile means yeah?”

“Yes. Just one little puff, though. It’s been a long time.”

He snorted and shook his head, put the joint to his lips and took a deep inhale, making the end glow brightly.

She lifted her hand, expecting him to pass it to her next, but instead, he leaned over and pressed his lips against hers. He waited until she opened her mouth and then he let the smoke gently roll from his into hers.

She quickly inhaled the smoke but blew it out just as fast since she wasn’t used to the burn in her lungs. She released a little cough and he chuckled.

That damn smirk was back.

“I told you I’m out of practice.”

“Let’s try it again.” He took another hit, leaned down and sealed their lips together once more. This time she had a better idea of what to do and slowly stole the smoke from his mouth but this time he never separated their lips. When she pushed the smoke back out of her lungs, he inhaled it, sat back and blew it out of his nostrils.

It reminded her of a cartoon bull pissed off to the point smoke was bellowing out of its nostrils.

“Now you’re definitely the definition of smoking hot.”

“One more before I put it out?” he asked.

She nodded and he shared another hit with her, once again doing it mouth to mouth. She held it longer this time, trying her best not to cough.

When she blew it out, she felt a calm begin to descend over her. She stared up at the man whose lap she laid in as he took one more hit for himself, then pinched the end and tucked the remainder back into his tin.

His fingers went from brushing through her hair, to stroking it and now he was basically massaging her head.

If there was a heaven, this could very well be it.

Every bone in her body turned to liquid and her eyelids became heavy. His began to droop, as well, as they quietly stared at each other.

No words needed. Simply companionship.

She’d been alone for the last couple of months, only speaking to motel staff, waitstaff and retail workers wherever she stopped.

No deep conversations, no real connections. Just passing words.

As crazy as it appeared to be, she seemed to have a real connection with Whip. One more surprise in the long list of them this day had brought.