by Marie James
“Pussy eating,” he says. “It’s called pussy eating.”
“Yeah, it was nice.” I shift my weight, trying to show him my intention without angering him, but his grip on me is firm. “I should find my friend and go. Early day tomorrow.”
“We’ve only just gotten started.”
Stunned, I look over my shoulder, seeing his impressive cock laying half erect on his thigh. The sight of the filled condom is a relief as well as mildly disgusting. It’s as if just now, I realize that he was fucking another girl in here.
Does that count as a three-way? Do I get to mark that off my bucket list also?
“What’s got your brow drawing in like that?”
“I’m getting cold,” I lie.
“I’ll warm you back up.”
His bottom lip rolls between his teeth, and hell if I don’t want to stick around for some more of what he has in mind.
“There you are! We need to get the fuck out of here.”
The door swings open as Molly rushes into the room.
“What the hell?” the guy under me swears as he looks around me. “Molly? What are you doing here?”
Pure disgust washes over her face when she sees whose chest I’m sitting on.
“Oh fuck,” I sputter as I climb off him and reach for my clothes. Is he her guy? Did I fuck up assuming that the Briar dude was her untouchable interest? It would be exactly like me to ruin the only fucking friendship I’ve managed to keep the last two damn years. Molly Jenkins is the only person my father has approved of. The only relationship I’ve had that he hasn’t purposely sabotaged right before my eyes.
“Molly, fucking wait!” The guy roars, but we’re out of the door and scrambling out of the hallway before he can roll out of bed and shove his powerful thighs into his jeans. “Get back here!”
We both ignore his command as we hit the front door and jump off the porch. My ankle isn’t impressed with my landing, but I don’t let it stop me. The car is cranked from Molly’s key fob before I even get the door open. I wince when I twist my body to close the door.
Less than a minute later, we’re inching toward the front gate, but it doesn’t open.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Molly chants as her eyes focus on the blackness in her rearview mirror.
She can’t see a damn thing, so I have no idea why she’s hyper-focused on it. Her window whirs as she lowers it.
“Pete, open the fucking gate!”
“Can’t do that, Princess. You know I can’t.” His voice carries a certain kind of sadness, but he’s firm in his decision because the gate remains securely in place.
I hear boots pounding on the ground before I see the looming shadows.
“Are they going to kill us?” Tears sting my eyes. How in the hell did I go from the most powerful orgasm of my life to my head being on the chopping block in less than an hour?
Molly sighs, forcing the car into park right there at the gate just as men surround the car. Resigned, she presses the button for the ignition a second before a head drops down to look in her lowered window.
“Where you going, Princess?” A man I didn’t see inside before smiles at her, winking at me when our eyes meet.
“Home?” Molly answers.
“You are home, Princess.” Her door opens. “Come on.”
“I’ll just pick you up later,” I insist as I try to climb across the console to get in the driver’s seat.
My door swings open also, and unfamiliar hands grip my hips and pull me out of the car.
“Not so fast, sweetness.” TJ’s barely familiar voice fills my ears, as his roaming hands sweep down my hips once I’m steady on my feet.
“Please don’t touch me,” I beg, swallowing roughly at not knowing what’s going to happen to us.
Surprisingly, TJ drops his hands. He doesn’t give me the courtesy of stepping out of my personal space, but I can’t be ungrateful right now.
“Prez wants you back inside,” the guy on Molly’s side says with a smile in his voice.
It’s so fucking dark out here. The light from the front of the clubhouse and the ones on a different building to the left are snuffed out less than a hundred yards away. It’s eerie standing in the darkness with these men as the air forces a chill over my exposed skin. I try not to think about the expensive fucking bra I deserted in my scramble to get out of the clubhouse as my nipples furl against the fabric of my tank. The emotion in Molly’s voice was unreadable, but when someone turns to run away, you don’t pause in the moment to ask why. Survival instinct kicks in, just as it did inside, and you get the fuck out. Seems our efforts were for nothing.
“Don’t tell him I’m here, Hornet. Please?” I nod, agreeing with Molly even though it doesn’t make any sense because…
“He already saw you.” Because of that. Hornet says. “He yelled for you to stop, and you disobeyed a direct order.”
“No,” Molly argues. “Lynch yelled at me.”
“Exactly,” Hornet says.
“But that’s not—” Molly looks over the hood of the car, somehow searching for TJ’s eyes in the darkness. “What is going on? Briar wouldn’t tell me shit.”
“It’s not his job,” TJ mutters. “Get inside, Princess. Lynch will explain everything.”
“Can we just come back tomorrow?” I barter. “We have an early day, and my parents are expecting me back tonight.”
Even in the darkness, I can see Molly roll her blue eyes. “Fat fucking chance.”
“I can carry you, or you can walk on your own,” Hornet says to Molly when she just stands, unmoving, with her arms crossed stubbornly over her chest.
“You wouldn’t dare pick me up like that. Imagine what Cowboy would do if he found out you touched me against my will,” Molly threatens.
Cowboy? Who the hell are all of these people, and what’s the big damn deal about us leaving?
“I don’t imagine that matters much anymore,” Hornet mutters.
“Enough,” TJ snaps. “Molly get back in the damn clubhouse. I had two bitches lined up for tonight, and you’re wasting my time. Unless you’re interested.”
TJ’s eyes scan the front of my tank, and I know the second he notices my nipples pointed right at him.
“Lynch hasn’t released her yet,” Molly mutters as she turns toward the clubhouse.
“Wow, Sweet-Tart. You move fucking fast.”
“It’s Candi,” I snip and fall in beside my friend.
“Sweettarts are my favorite candy,” TJ whispers in my ear, making a shiver run down my arm.
“Pete, will you park my car back in the lot?” Molly asks without looking back.
“Sure thing, Princess,” a disembodied voice yells through the massive gate.
“You know every damn guy here, Molly. Did you fucking steal something? Are they after us because we did something wrong?” I hiss into her ear as we close the distance between the gate and the front door quicker than I would like.
“We aren’t in danger,” Molly assures me, but there’s a sadness in her voice that makes me not want to trust her.
Chapter 5
Lynch
“He shouldn’t fucking leave us waiting if he wanted us to come back so fucking bad,” Molly bitches as I enter the chapel.
Both her back and the sweet, tempting curves of Candi’s spine are facing me.
“He had to wash the whore off him,” TJ explains. “You know how it goes.”
Candi’s spine stiffens at his comment, and I almost frown.
“Filthy fucking mouth you have there, little sister,” I chastise as I round the end of the table. Dropping the black lace and satin on the table in front of Candi, I let my finger trail down her arm. “You left that.”
Candi swipes the bra off the table and shoves it into her lap as if she can hide it. The guys sitting around the table chuckle. Normally I wouldn’t have them in here for this, but almost every man around this table had had some part in raising my little sister.
“Sister?�
� I hear Candi whisper-hiss at her friend.
“Didn’t she tell you?” Candi shakes her head but doesn’t look up at me. The same pink that painted her delicate cheeks earlier is back, and the knowledge that her tits must be just as colorful makes my mouth water. “Kind of a shitty friend not to tell her that your brother is the club president.”
“Dad is the fucking president,” Molly argues, only falling silent when I point to the patch on my cut.
“What are you doing here, Molly?” Her jaw snaps shut. Stubborn as always. “You have almost three months of school left before you graduate. You didn’t bother to come home during Spring Break. Why are you here now?”
Candi shifts in her seat but doesn’t answer the questions directed at my sister.
“Tell me,” I seethe leaning over the table in intimidation.
Every pair of eyes at the table volleys between myself and the brat at the other end. Well, every man but my idiot brother. His eyes are hyper-focused on Candi’s heaving chest and the pinpoints of her nipples.
“Where is Dad?” Molly demands.
“Oh shit,” TJ whispers before he gets up and walks out. He never was able to handle her emotional outbursts, and I know without a doubt that the shit is about to hit the fan.
“He’s dead,” I answer. There’s no emotion in my voice. The sting of what I was forced to do evaporated long before my father’s body was cut down from the rafters a little over a week ago.
“He’s not,” she argues. “He can’t—”
Her eyes snap to my VP, and all he has to do is give a simple nod of confirmation before she begins shaking.
“Y-you killed him?” Molly doesn’t really have to ask. She’s well aware of the rules and what it takes to get this patch on my chest.
“He’s gone,” I repeat, my eyes casting over to Candi before going back to my sister. I’m glad she’s here. I don’t trust her enough to say anything in front of her, and Molly is aware that once she’s dismissed from this room, the topic is never going to be brought up again. She may be a spoiled child, but she’s a Raven through and through. She knows the rules, and for the most part, she sticks to them.
“You didn’t think I needed to know my father is dead?” she screams rising to her feet. “You didn’t think I’d want to know?”
Briar grabs her before she can come around to my seat. The anger in her eyes is palpable, and I know if my VP releases her she’ll try to scratch my eyes out.
“You’ll go back to school tomorrow,” I insist as Briar wraps his arms around her waist and picks her up.
“You can kiss my ass, Prez.” She spits my title like it’s poison on her tongue.
Hornet opens the chapel doors just as Briar reaches them, and they disappear down the hall.
“Leave us,” I command.
The rest of my council stands and exits the room without another word, leaving Candi trembling in her seat, jolting as if she’s been shot when the door slaps closed.
“What’s your name?”
“Candi,” she answers immediately.
“What’s your real name?” I clarify, slamming my hand down on the table when she opens her perfect little mouth to lie to me again. “Don’t test me. Name now.”
“Zoe,” she whispers, her eyes still trained on the bra in her hands. “Zoe Clark.”
“Zoe,” I whisper letting the word play on my lips before catching myself. “Why are you here?”
“I came with Molly.”
“Why is Molly here?”
She shrugs before answering. “I’ve always wanted to come here. She finally agreed to bring me.”
“You didn’t know I was her brother?”
Her eyes snap to mine. “No, I swear. I didn’t know she really knew anyone here. Then we walked in, and Briar and TJ walked up, and she knew the guy’s name at the fence. When she disappeared down the hall with Briar, I was freaked out because some guy blew pot smoke in my face and asked me if I wanted to have a good time. I freaked out and went looking for her. I found you and umm... well you know what happened after that.”
“I ate your pussy better than any man has before,” I simplify.
Her shoulders lift in another shrug. The dismissive action heats my blood and is almost enough for me to force her out of her seat and devour her until she begs for mercy, but something about what she said—
“Where did Briar take my little sister?”
Her eyes narrow, and I regret not hiding the irritation in my voice.
“I don’t know. She wanted to know why TJ was wearing some patch, and then when Briar walked up, she noticed his. She was really confused. She demanded an explanation.” She nods her head as if her explanation will be enough for me. “I’m sure that’s what they were talking about.”
False.
I shake my head, forcing my hands to release the edge of the table.
“Do they have something going on?”
Confused, her eyes dart between mine. “Have you not listened to a fucking word I just said?”
My lip twitches, but I catch it before it turns into a full-blown smile. She doesn’t have a damn clue about this place and the power I yield. I haven’t decided if it’s refreshing or not.
“I told you,” her voice slows to half of the cadence it was previously. “I didn’t know she knew anyone here. Are you following?”
She pauses, and my fucking lip twitches twice as hard this time.
“I don’t know a damn thing. Nothing.”
“You know why she’s here and not in school,” I challenge.
Her jaw snaps shut, and a little piece of pride floats up. She’s loyal to my little sister, and that fucking means the world to me. On the other hand, this is my fucking world. I’ll be damned if a pretty little devil walks in here, clad in a tight tank top and shorts small enough that I could see the outline of her pussy lips the second she stepped in the room earlier and dictates how things are going to go.
“Tell me,” I demand.
“It’s not my story to tell.”
A cold shudder runs up my spine at her insistence. I’m a breath away from rushing out of the chapel and tracking my sister down, but watching the girl grow up, I know she’s beyond talking right now. It may be days before I can get to the bottom of her recent appearance on my doorstep.
“Is she okay?”
Candi nods immediately.
“Is she pregnant?” Her snort catches me by surprise. “Answer me.”
“Why is that exactly where a man’s mind goes?” I refuse to answer her. The way we were raised, it wouldn’t be unheard of for an eighteen-year-old girl to get knocked up. My knuckles pop just thinking of a man putting their filthy, greedy hands on my baby sister. “She isn’t pregnant.”
My relieved breath rushes out. “Thank fuck.”
“I want to leave,” Candi whispers.
“I can’t let that happen.” Coming around the table to stand beside her, I hate that she flinches away from me when I reach for her arm.
“Molly may be safe here because she’s family, but I don’t feel comfortable here.”
“You’re safe,” I assure her as I gently grip her arm and pull her out of the chair.
“Says the man shoving me toward the door,” she mutters.
“Such a sassy fucking mouth for a woman with such a sweet pussy,” I whisper in her ear and redirect her when she tries to walk toward the door that leads to the front room. “This way.”
The kitchen is more crowded than I anticipate, but I ignore everyone in there and escort Candi out the back door through the kitchen.
“Oh shit,” Piper hisses as we pass through. “What the hell did she do to end up out there?”
My eyes narrow at the implication, but I don’t turn around to explain myself. I also don’t look at the locked door to the basement as I lead Candi into the darkness.
Chapter 6
Candi
“Where are you taking me?” My voice cracks as Lynch’s grip on my arm tightens. �
��Please don’t.”
He spins me around so fast, I yelp in surprise. “Did you not hear me when I told you, you were safe here?”
“S-sorry if the way you’re treating me doesn’t allow me much faith in your words.” I’m shaking by this point, my teeth rattling audibly in the crisp night air.
“Jesus.” He’s clearly agitated, but his grip loosens. I’m floored when his arms circle around my back, and he lifts me so I’m face to face with him and able to see the bright green of his eyes in the moonlight. He’s massive, a wall of solid muscle against my chest. His breath skims over my lips, warming them. Unbidden, my tongue snakes out in an attempt to taste the gusts. He groans before pulling his head back a few inches. It isn’t until then that I realize I’ve leaned in closer to him.
So much for being terrified. Arthur Miller’s quote from The Crucible flashes in my mind, and for once in my life, I realize the significance my father repeatedly tried to drill in my head. “Until an hour before the Devil fell, God thought him beautiful in Heaven.”
“You’re safe here,” he repeats the words from inside, only this time I believe him. “No one will hurt you.”
I nod, mesmerized by the movement of his lips with every single word. Long before I’m ready, he lowers me back to my feet, turning me back in the direction we were heading before I freaked out.
“Whose house is this?” I ask noticing a single light on in a room upstairs.
“Mine,” he answers. “TJ’s sometimes, and Molly’s when she’s home.”
This isn’t a biker’s house I conclude as we make our way down the gravel path to the porch. Bikers don’t live in cute houses with shutters on the windows. They dwell in dirty buildings without paying electricity, freeloading off everyone around them. They’re gross and have no morals, preferring to cut your throat rather than talk to you. At least that’s what I’ve been led to believe. Bikers don’t worry about their sisters or send them to expensive private academies. They toss them to the wolves, forcing them to survive on their own.
Hesitant to enter, I stop on the porch, jolting when the swing on the porch squeaks in the breeze.