by Marie James
His smile deepens further. “Old enough to drink?”
It’s my turn to wink at him, only I do it with assurance. “Age wouldn’t stop me from doing that.”
“May I?” He points down at the chair on the other side of my table.
“Please,” I tell him with a genuine smile.
I’m an excellent judge of character, so I’m pretty sure this man is just awkwardly shy because he doesn’t seem to be throwing game in my direction. If he is, he’s horrible at it.
Sutton, Massachusetts isn’t a very big town, and even though I don’t know many people, a lot of them I recognize from just living here all my life. This man, however, I don’t think I’ve ever seen before. I don’t imagine I’d forget his quick smile, sandy-brown hair, and dark eyes had I seen them before.
“Do you live around here?” His hands rest on the table in front of him, fingers twining together as if he doesn’t know what to do with them.
“Yep.” His eyes seem to sparkle with my aloofness.
But, what could I tell him? He doesn’t look like the kind of guy that would be impressed to know that I live off of an isolated section of Purgatory Road at a compound controlled by a biker club.
“Do you work nearby?”
Work. What a concept. He’s attracted to me. He’s made that clear by asking my age, but would unemployment be a turn off for him?
“I’m actually looking for a job,” I say instead.
I’m not, but he doesn’t need to know that I’m taken care of regardless of if I ever get a legitimate job in my life. Suddenly, I’m smacked in the chest with unease.
I don’t want my brothers telling me what to do or who I can spend my life with, but I cling to them, using them as a safety net for everything. The only way to gain independence is to begin doing things on my own.
The guy across from me grins, watching unknowingly, as I have an existential crisis.
“I think I can help you.”
My eyebrows meet my hairline before narrowing in suspicion.
I lean forward, snarl ready. “If you make some creepy comment about sucking you off or fucking you for some quick cash, I will castrate you with a butter knife.”
His eyes widen comically as his hands shoot up near his ears. “What? No! I wouldn’t—that’s not—”
His head just shakes back and forth, and I instantly feel terrible, realizing very quickly that wasn’t the direction he was going at all. Growing up in the clubhouse has seriously distorted my view of men’s expectations.
“Well, okay,” I say and sit back.
His eyes are like saucers, darting between me and the table with an elderly couple as they begin gathering their things to leave. I wonder if he’s concerned they heard what I said and are leaving to get away from my brand of crazy.
“Mr. and Mrs. Quinn,” the guy across from me says, nodding at the couple as they pass by.
“Dr. Andrews,” the man says before he wraps his arm around his wife’s back and ushers her out of the café.
“Look,” I whisper, leaning in closer even though the waitress is now the only other person besides us in the dining room. “I’m sorry for the outburst. I’m not used to anyone approaching me without—” I wave my hand between us, indicating our prior conversation. I’m not just going to spit it out, but if the man is a doctor, he should be able to infer my direction.
“People only approach you for sex?” He does that low whisper thing again on the last word, and I can’t help but smile.
He’s older, possibly late twenties, if I had to guess, and that’s only from noticing the tiny creases at the corners of his eyes when he smiles. Briar has the same ones.
I shake my head, ridding it of any thought of that man.
“I’m not a hooker,” I state flatly.
His smile widens at the frustration in my voice. “I’m not a pimp.”
I can’t help the chuckle that escapes my lips. What a strange day.
“That’s good to know.” I drop the blue packet of sweetener on the table and stretch my arm in his direction. “I’m Molly.”
“Owen,” he returns as his hand meets mine. He doesn’t drop it immediately, holding it a few seconds longer than what I’d consider normal for a casual introduction. I find myself enjoying the calluses on his fingers against the soft skin of my own palm.
“So, you’re a doctor?” He releases my hand, the pink once again filling his cheeks.
“An animal doctor,” he specifies. “A veterinarian.”
“Does that embarrass you?” He looks confused. “You blushed when I asked.”
His fingers immediately run over his cheeks. “Most women aren’t very impressed when I explain my love for helping animals.”
“Really? That’s absurd. I love animals.” His grin widens at my declaration. “Of course, I never had a pet growing up. My dad always said there were enough animals around already.”
“So, you have a ranch?”
I’m puzzled for a second until I realize what I’ve said. “Something like that.”
I don’t know if Owen would be impressed with my MC life. Most men I meet are already in the clubhouse, looking for the women, drugs, and partying that they hear about in diluted rumors around town. If I’m going to do things on my own, I have to keep that part of my life separate from everything else.
“Tell me about this job,” I say, steering the conversation away from me and back to him.
“I think you’re gorgeous,” he sputters, rather than going into detail about an employment opportunity.
His hands rake over the top of his hair.
“I’m not particularly good with people,” he explains. “I think that’s why vet medicine suits me. I just wanted you to know before we talk about the receptionist job at my clinic that I find you very attractive.”
My lips roll between my teeth to keep a chuckle from slipping out.
“That’s why I came over to talk with you,” he clarifies as if his reason for approaching me wasn’t obvious in less than thirty seconds.
“Are you saying I’m only asking to be sexually harassed if I take the receptionist job?”
His throat clears, but he doesn’t immediately deny my question.
“I may ask you out on a date.”
This man is absolutely adorable, a contrast to what I’m used to at home.
“I may say yes,” I tease.
“I think you’d be perfect for the job.”
“Was that the interview?” His grin widens. I could watch his mouth all day. “You’re hiring me, pretty much sight-unseen because you want to ask me out?”
He takes a moment to look offended. It’s a charming look on him. “I need a receptionist, and you need a job. It’s like this meeting was fate.”
“You walked over here to flirt with me, Dr. Owen, not offer me a job. Are you allowed to flirt with me if I’m your employee?” I play up the teasing tone in my voice because I want more flirting. I want to spend more time in his company. Talking to a man without him staring at my chest is a new experience for me, and being able to grin and flirt back without a brooding vice president drilling holes in the side of my head with his eyes is a nice change of pace, too.
“Call me Owen when we’re alone,” he insists. “Dr. Andrews in the office, of course.”
Biting the inside of my cheek, I remain quiet, giving him a simple nod in agreement.
“The job is simple. You’ll be answering the phone, scheduling appointments, checking patients in, and if you can, helping a little in the back.”
I shake my head instantly. “I’m not good with blood.”
It’s the absolute truth, even though I’m the only daughter of a very vengeful father. Maybe his penchant for hurting people at the drop of a hat is what makes my stomach turn at just the thought of someone or something bleeding.
“I meant more like cleaning kennels and calming scared animals.”
“That I can do,” I agree.
“If you want, y
ou can start tomorrow.” Owen reaches into his back pocket, pulling out a business card. “Do you happen to have scrubs?”
“No.” I shake my head with a quick laugh. “Why would I have scrubs?”
Xena has a naughty nurse costume she wore for Halloween last year, but I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t be impressed with me showing up for my first day on the job with my tits and ass hanging out.
“There’s a great shop in Worcester that won’t bleed you dry.” He jots down something on the back of the card with the pen left by the waitress earlier. He hands me the card with the clinic’s address on the front. “I put my cell phone number and the name of the medical supply shop on the back.”
“Thank you,” I respond.
“Do you need an advance?” He reaches into his back pocket again, pulling his wallet out. “You actually get a monthly uniform stipend.”
“No.” I wave him off. “Thank you though.”
“So, say tomorrow? Nine in the morning?”
“Sounds great.” He stands, holding his hand out to me once again.
I place my palm in his, and suddenly, even after the recent conversation, the goodbye doesn’t seem even remotely professional.
I shouldn’t test my luck. Beginning a job where I know ahead of time that my boss is interested in more than my bedside manner while dealing with people and pets in the community is just asking for trouble, but I spent the last fifteen minutes talking with Owen, and it wasn’t until he walked out of the café that I even remember that Briar exists.
Chapter 6
Briar
“This isn’t at all what I expected,” I grunt at Lynch as I lift my beer bottle to my lips.
“This isn’t much different from home,” Lynch clarifies.
We watch as dozens of women walk around completely naked. Each one of them wears a thick leather collar that doesn’t seem to be designed for comfort as they offer themselves to the men.
“They’re willing to make your wildest fantasies come true,” Luis explains as he sits on the sofa across from us.
My cock jumps in my jeans at just the mention of feeding my sinister needs, but the strength I’ve drawn from for the last decade calms me almost instantly. Giving into that desire isn’t possible, and thinking of satisfying it with the only girl who gets me fully hard will never be an option. I’d die first before even putting myself in a situation where it could come to fruition.
“President’s pick.” Luis sweeps his arm, encompassing every woman in the vast room.
“No thanks.”
Lynch’s response is to the point, and in our world would never be met with argument. However, we aren’t in our world any longer. We’re in the middle of a mansion that took twenty minute’s worth of security to even enter. We’re weaponless and being eyed by the twenty or so cartel members scattered throughout the room.
Life in an MC can be brutal. The last ten years under Cowboy’s rule back in Sutton proved that. We aren’t afraid to get our hands dirty, but I don’t have to worry about my mother’s safety if I get into an argument with my president.
In the land of all things cartel, I can honestly say I’m a little worried with every breath I take. These guys are relentless. They don’t give a shit about anything but loyalty and money, and not always in that order. The brutality they’re known for is enough to get anyone to toe the line. They don’t speak softly and back it up with firepower when they need to. These guys come in guns blazing, no matter what innocent person could be cut down from their attack.
“Is my pussy not good enough for you?” Luis doesn’t lean in closer in order to intimidate. He doesn’t even look over at Lynch when he speaks, opting to keep his eyes and hands on the woman he’s summoned over to pull his dick out.
“The stewardess sucked me off on the flight in,” Lynch claims.
“Atta boy,” Luis says just before his head rolls on the back of the sofa as the girl at his feet begins sucking his dick.
“Why would you say something like that?” I hiss in Lynch’s ear while our host is distracted.
We flew commercial, and Lynch never left his damn seat.
“Zoe,” he mutters.
She was the reason I was offended in the first place, but him mentioning her name gives me all I need to understand. It isn’t above Luis to use any person as a pawn to get what he wants. Staying in the dark about Lynch’s undying love for Molly’s best friend is best for everyone involved.
“We really need to discuss this,” I mumble, keeping my eyes off of the woman Luis is trying to choke with his cock.
“Doing that under his roof isn’t an option,” Lynch replies.
“She’s got the perfect mouth,” Luis praises after grunting his release. With a rough hand on her cheek, he turns her head in my direction. “He’s next, puta.”
The woman doesn’t raise her eyes to mine, she merely shuffles on her knees in my direction. “No thanks.”
Luis's eyebrow raises, but at least the woman stops between us, waiting for direction like a trained puppy.
“The bitch on the plane suck you off, too?”
“My VP is celibate,” Lynch answers for me as if he had noticed the tension that’s rolling off of me. Coming here was a bad fucking idea. We’re sitting fucking ducks in this goddamn compound. I feel like a puppet on a string, just waiting for the rabid animals circulating around the room to attack. One guy in the corner with crazy eyes looks like he’d have more fun ripping me apart than I’ve ever seen in TJ’s eyes, and that guy lives for blood and gore.
“No pussy?” Luis grins. “We have a couple guys downstairs willing to lift their asses in the air if that’s what you prefer. We don’t bring them up here because my men want to pretend that they don’t exist.”
Luis winks in our direction as if he’s sharing a secret among good friends.
“Celibate,” I grunt. “Not gay.”
I do my best to get a bead on each of our guys in the massive room. TJ is pouting on the other side of the room with his head bent over his phone. Smalls and Hornet are entertaining a woman each on the far side. Everyone is accounted for and safe so far.
Luis shrugs, seemingly not affronted by my second rejection. “I mean, at the end of the day a hole is a hole, right?”
“Exactly,” Lynch says with a wicked grin on his lips. Anyone who doesn’t know him would think he’s as fucked up as our host, but I know better.
“Toro over there—” He points in the direction of the squirrely-eyed guy. “He’s fond of cutting people and sticking his dick in the wounds.”
“Jesus,” I mutter. We don’t have shit on these guys, and I’ve always assumed our group was the most fucked up people around.
“Ronan,” Lynch snaps when another woman sits beside him. He doesn’t touch her, doesn’t pull her red tipped fingers from his thigh.
“Yeah, Prez?” Ronan stands a few feet away, making sure not to get too close. Upsetting Luis isn’t on the agenda this evening.
“She’s lonely.” Lynch angles his head in the woman’s direction. “Can you show her some attention?”
“At your service.” Ronan holds out his hand for the woman, and I know Lynch doesn’t breathe another breath until she’s away from him and being escorted up the wide staircase.
“Are we going to discuss what we came here for?” Agitation marks my boss’s voice as he pulls his eyes from the retreating couple and shoots a glare at Luis.
“Tomorrow.” Luis waves a hand in the direction of the festivities. “Enjoy this party. It is in your honor after all.”
“We have a ton of shit going on back home,” Lynch reminds him.
“Ah, yes.” Luis waves his hand and a woman places a drink in it in seconds. “I imagine taking over such a large enterprise after your father killed my wife is quite a task.”
He doesn’t even look in our direction when he says the words, nor does he bother to look upset at the death of his spouse.
“That’s what the party is for, also.”<
br />
“A celebration of life?” The question leaves my lips before I can catch it. He doesn’t seem too torn up about it.
Luis turns his head in my direction. “A celebration of death.”
He watches my face, looking for a reaction, but he won’t find one. I hold his gaze, not in challenge, but I also refuse to surrender to him. Thankfully, he looks away first.
He’s the same sick fucker who asked for Cowboy’s death for the murder of his wife. From the way Lynch described it, Luis pretty much sent her our way to be killed. Her death was always part of the equation to get his claws into the Ravens Ruin MC.
Our host nods at another woman as she makes her way toward us. Lynch stiffens beside me once again as she closes in on us, but her eyes focus on me rather than my president.
“Stay cool,” Lynch hisses when my hand squeezes my beer bottle until my knuckles turn white.
“What are you playing at?” I spit in Luis’s direction as the woman closes in on me. “I won’t fuck some chick at your command, so you can stop trying to assert power over me. I’ll die for my club before I stick my dick in one of your whores.”
“That’s a lot bravado for a man sitting on my couch drinking my beer.”
“I’d offer the same courtesy to you in my own home,” I assure him. “But I wouldn’t try to force your hand. That holds a level of disrespect I’m not certain you’re ready to answer for.”
“Are all of your soldiers as aggressive as this one?”
Lynch huffs out a humorless chuckle. “Have you met my brother?”
The weight of the world lifts from my shoulders as Luis finally pulls his eyes from me, a hint of a smile playing on his thin lips.
We’ll be lucky if we make it out of this fucking compound alive.
“You’ll stay the night,” Luis orders. “Tomorrow we can discuss business. You’ll be back in Massachusetts before nightfall if you so wish.”
“Perfect,” Lynch agrees.
“Looks like those two are making up for your lack of interest.”
We look over at Chains and Professor. Each mouth, hand, and cock are busy bringing numerous women pleasure simultaneously. It’s actually an impressive feat, and they’ve taken to the challenge with fervor.