Free Firetrap: The Soul Scorchers MC (The Scorched Souls Serial-series Book 1) by C.L. Riley Page A

around the edges, I still recognized my savior, the one who had rescued me from death and dehydration, and a world of bad men eager to torch me.
    “Yep, it’s me, Sally.”
    “Sally?” Did he just call me Sally? Was that my name? It sounded all wrong. I didn’t feel like a Sally.
    “Of course, honey. You’re my Sally.”
    I shook my head struggling to comprehend. Everything felt off. “Who are you?” I whispered, desperate for more information.
    “Oh, baby. Damn that hurts. I’m your old man, your husband.”
    I sucked in a shaky breath. The man who’d saved me was my husband? I guess that made sense. “Where were you during the fire?’
    If we were married, shouldn’t he have been at home with me?
    He chuckled. “It was my night out. We have an open relationship, remember?”
    Seeing what had to be my confused expression, he continued, “No, that’s right. You don’t remember. You were getting drunk with your girlfriends while I dipped the love-stick in some tasty new sugar. I’ll tell you all about it when you’re feeling better. You love my sex stories and my love-stick.” He grabbed his crotch, a sinful smile spreading across his face.
    “You’re serious?” I forced my eyes all the way open. My traitorous gaze zoomed in on the exact location of his love-stick.
    Oh, my God. I was some kind of kinky freak.
    I loved the fact that my husband cheated? Apparently I even enjoyed hearing about his escapades, and despite my current condition, I was really, really eager to have a go at the bulge he was packing up front.
    Damn it! I was some horny slut, and I was already starting to hate the life I couldn’t remember.
    He grinned down at me. “Would I lie to you, sweet cheeks? Just get some rest. I’ll make sure to jot down some notes, so I don’t forget all the positions we tried. This one was a real screamer. You should have heard her.”
    I choked. “Water …? Please.”
    He cradled my head and helped me take a drink. “The boys are worried sick about you. I’ll give you a couple days to recover before I bring them in. They can be a real handful.”
    “Boys? What boys?” I had no idea who he was talking about. Whoever they were, I couldn’t deal with any more stress right now.
    “Wow. You really have lost your mind. Don’t let them know. That could cause some serious mental damage. They already have issues .”
    At this point, my head was swimming. Nothing my supposed husband said made any sense. “I don’t understand.”
    “Uh, Sally. They’re your boys. Our boys. Like you gave birth to them. Hello …?”
    “No-o-o-o,” I groaned. I wasn’t certain, but I had a feeling that I hated kids, including my own.
    He bent down and kissed me on the forehead. “Get better soon, Sal. We miss you already, and my love-stick likes your sugar-cave better than all the rest.” He jutted his hips forward.
    Obnoxious! I’d barely escaped a fire with my life and he wanted to screw?
    If I had anything to say about it, my sugar-cave would be off limits for an extended duration, regardless of his tempting love-stick .
    Without any further information bombs, he left me alone to digest his words; no easy task.
    I was a mother with two boys, whose husband cheated; and I not only approved of his cheating ways, I liked hearing the details. I drank with my girlfriends to excess, and someone wanted me dead. Granted, my husband was fucking gorgeous in a dangerous, badass biker kinda way, which was a bonus, sort of, but he acted like an uneducated caveman with sex on the brain.
    No wonder I couldn’t recall a damn thing.
    If this was my life, I’d rather not remember it—ever.

 
    One Week Later
    Boone
    “JV? Joey? You know what to say and not say, right?” I looked between my boys. Both nodded. I appreciated their enthusiasm.
    They’d been in to meet their “mother” once, but I’d kept them away since then. The first visit had been a disaster. Olympia, aka Sally, had taken one look at them and burst