Evil's Price: Devil's Outlaws MC (Book One) (Dark MC Romance)

by Raven Dark

  Another shrug.

  She rolls her head back as if in horror. “You… It’s hot as Hades out here. There are wild animals out here at night!”

  Hades? Who is this girl?

  I grin. “You have no idea how wild we get.”

  “Spider!” She’s starting to panic again. “You can’t. There are serious predators out here. Coyotes. Poisonous snakes.”

  I break the space between us until I’m pressed against her, until her nipples poke into my chest. The heat of her body burns. I lean in and trace the line of her jaw with my mouth, and her breathing hitches. One of my hands slides down between her legs, cupping her perfect pussy.

  She says she hates me, but when I stroke her wet clit, she rubs against my touch.

  A low, hungry rumble leaves me. “I can’t wait to feel your pussy around my cock again.” I stroke her once more. “And don’t worry. Nothing’s gonna bite you. Except me.” I nip her ear.

  She tosses her head in rage. My dick turns to steel. I drop my hand and step back.

  “What am I supposed to do if something tries to get me?”

  “Use this.” I pull a whistle from inside my cut and hold it up. The whistle dangles from a rope. Stringing the rope around her neck, I push the whistle’s mouthpiece between her teeth and ignore her muffled scream, which turns into a shrill whistle.

  “If anything nasty comes near you, whistle, just like that, but louder. Don’t blow it unless there is a real emergency, or no one will know when there is one. I won’t go far.”

  She makes a livid sound in her throat.

  “You’re hot when you’re pissed.” I touch her under the chin.

  She glares.

  “You might as well relax, Wildcat. You’re going to be there a while.”

  She screams around the whistle in helpless rage.

  I turn and walk toward the party with a smile on my face. If she thinks I’m evil now, she’s got another thing coming.

  13

  In the Arms of Sin

  An hour after Spider left me tied to the tree, he shows no sign that he’s planning to release me anytime soon.

  Still bound behind me with the tree at my back, my arms were aching along with my shoulders, but they’ve gone numb now, having grown used to the position they’re in. I’ve tried to pull my hands free of the ropes, but they don’t give at all. I shift my feet, trying to stop the throb in my legs from standing so long, but it only provides a few minutes of relief before I have to shift them again.

  With my mouth around the whistle, my cheeks ache so that I have to hold it between my teeth, allowing me to relax my face muscles.

  At least the temperature has dropped. It’s a balmy night, not too hot, not too cold. Occasionally, a light breeze kisses my skin, brushing across my bared sex and teasing my nipples. It serves to keep me cool, but it also provides a constant reminder of my situation.

  I’m stripped naked, standing in enough moonlight that the whole crowd of partiers out back of Casper’s can see me in all my nude glory.

  The weather is perfect for the predicament Spider has put me in, and it’s driven me to one conclusion. Since he’d taken me here, I’d begun to think there was no God, but now I know. There is a God, and he’s up there laughing at me.

  I try not to think about how exposed I am, but doing so only puts my focus on what’s going on in front of me.

  Spider remains true to his word. No one has come near me. But then, neither has he.

  I have no idea how many of the bikers call Casper’s home, but probably most of the club members are out here, and the party is in full swing.

  Amidst a circle of what must be more than fifty men and half as many women, Spider cheers on Striker and another man in one of those knockdown, drag-out fights.

  Striker punches another man with a shaved head in the face. The bald one counters with another punch, but misses.

  “Come on, Striker. Kick his ass!” Spider’s deep voice carries easily above most of the others.

  Since the tree stands atop the hill, its elevation allows me to see everything with an almost bird’s-eye view. Standing with Dragon, Reaper and Diesel, all three of whom cheer on Striker’s opponent, the delight Spider takes in watching the men pummel each other is unsettling. Not that the other men—or women—aren’t just as enthusiastic.

  Snake and Dee are among the spectators, Snake with his arm around Dee, both cheering Striker on.

  Loud, thrashy rock tunes—what Pastor Seth would have called Satan’s music—was playing earlier, from speakers installed on the wall of the clubhouse, but it isn’t playing now. Most of the partiers have their attention on the match, but the fight is not the most shocking thing going on here.

  Near the rear wall of the clubhouse, Tequila sits back in a lawn chair with one of the bikers’ heads between her legs. She has her eyes closed, an expression of utter rapture on her beautiful face. Neither of them seem the least bit self-conscious that everyone out here can see them.

  Whistler, the guy who called me Spider’s toy last night, lays sprawled a few feet from them on his back. Earlier, I saw him sitting in the same chair Tequila is in now, jabbing a needle into his arm. He’s laughing his head off, clearly high as a kite. He’s cradling his wrist, the one I saw Spider break when he tried to touch me. It doesn’t look like anyone’s treated the injury, and no one’s paying him any mind.

  Monica and Pip are making out in a corner. She’s sliding off his lap and undoing his pants. Pip looks like he’s having the time of his life.

  One of the guys sits with a woman straddling his lap. Her shirt is off, and he has his hand up her nearly non-existent skirt. Nearly everyone looks half drunk. Several other men are passed out on the ground like Whistler.

  I put my head back against the tree. This is crazy. The party is supposed to be for Diesel, but the entire purpose of it seems to be to allow the men to indulge in as much sin as possible. I feel like I’ve been trapped in the middle of some hedonistic ritual gathering, the naked woman tied up and on display while the savages partake in every manner of debauchery they can think of.

  This is part of the punishment, isn’t it? Spider’s upped my humiliation by not only stripping me nude and putting me on display but forcing me to watch his friends perform acts no woman should see.

  Striker knocks his opponent flat, then helps him up. Money exchanges hands in the crowd and Dragon hands Spider a wad of bills, which Spider pockets with a smug smile.

  “Fucker,” Dragon says.

  Spider shakes his shoulder. “Pleasure doing business with you, Prez.”

  “Go fuck yourself.” But he’s grinning. “You cheated. You knew Eightball was off his game tonight.”

  “Did not. Striker’s just that good.”

  Dragon wanders over to Tequila, shoves the guy who’s just stood up from between her legs away and pulls her up from the chair. He swings her over his shoulder and carries her off while she giggles in delight.

  Spider takes a beer off a tray that Sassy is carrying and pops it open. He tosses the cap on the ground and takes a swig. His eyes catch mine, and when he lowers the bottle, his lips twitch. His gaze sparkles with satisfaction.

  I want to scream at him, but with the whistle in my mouth, I can’t. If it falls to my chest, he might not come over to replace it just to be a jerk, and then I’ll have no way to sound the alarm if any critters decide to pay me a visit.

  I huff through my nose and glare at him. He makes a mocking kissing motion with his lips.

  I swear, I’ll kill him.

  Spider turns his back and disappears into the crowd as if I’m not even there now. I should be glad that he’s not paying attention to me. If he’s ignoring me, I don’t have to deal with him. Yet the minute he turns away, loneliness wraps its cold arms around me.

  Worse, when I think about him watching me—no, worse than that—when I think that he’s allowing every one of those men down there to get an eyeful of me whenever they please—my sex burns as if h
is fingers are there, teasing me to insanity.

  Here in this moment, his power over me is absolute. The only one who can end this is him, and he knows it.

  And the awareness of that is making me want to get off.

  How does that even make sense?

  Left alone with nothing to do but dream up ways to make him suffer, none of which I could ever hope to pull off, I try to shut the world out. Everything about this place feels wrong, but tied to this cursed tree, there’s no getting away from it.

  If my parents saw me now…

  My stomach knots. I feel as if I’ve betrayed them somehow, dishonored them. I’m a pastor’s daughter for pity’s sake. And I’ve not only lain with a man who embodies everything they’d despise, a man who isn’t my husband and whom I hate. I’ve allowed myself to end up here…like this. Trussed up and stripped, being eyeballed by dozens of horny bikers.

  My parents would disown me. No amount of penance would absolve me of this.

  I look away or close my eyes, but doing so doesn’t provide much of an escape when I can hear a woman crying out in pleasure, or Pip groaning for Monica to suck him harder.

  No one is coming near me, but that doesn’t mean no one looks.

  At any given time, one guy or other has their eyes on me. They feast on my nakedness, headless of my shame. I’m starting to see what Spider meant when he said I was going to provide a little extra distraction. While some of the couples make out, they watch me as if the sight of my nakedness serves to fuel their libidinous appetites.

  Spider flops into a chair beside a tired and bruised, but thrilled looking Striker and the two touch the tips of their beer bottles together in a salute. Nodding to something Striker says, Spider doesn’t even look my way. I hate that his inattention stings.

  Now and again, he sends Monica or Pip to check on me, but they say nothing, only looking me over, checking the ropes, and then going back to the party, ignoring my angry, muffled yells.

  It would be easy to think that Spider is being irresponsible with my life, putting me in danger, not only from the men here but from any wild animals nearby. But no one is touching me, someone is always close enough to hear the whistle, there are plenty of eyes on me, and there’re no animals in sight. Well, not the four-legged kind, anyway. He might be leaving me alone, but I’m not alone.

  I’m never alone.

  What must be at least another hour crawls slowly by, and then another.

  My eyes are starting to droop. Sleep tries to pull me under, my head falling forward, but I shake it off, unwilling to let my guard down.

  Laughter from Snake and Dee catches my attention and I lift my head. They’re stumbling away from the crowd toward me. Nervousness has me shifting against the tree until they fall to the ground a few feet away, laughing. I’m sure they’re laughing at me.

  Snake rolls Dee over so that he’s lying on top of her. He cups her chin and kisses her. She wraps her arms around him. Their tongues dance.

  Oh, great. The two of them are going to play kissy face as if I’m not even there.

  Dee turns her head toward me, her eyes closed while Snake kisses her neck. Her eyes open and she cracks a smile. “Oh, Snake, look. Our resident thief is giving us a show.”

  I’m giving them a show? My nails dig into my palms. As if I’m choosing to be here, stark naked in front of the whole clubhouse!

  The guilt I’d been feeling for my betrayal of her burns away under a wave of anger.

  Snake chuckles. “I’m not really interested in her right now, baby.” He nips her ear, tugging her halter top down and exposing one breast.

  She gives a throaty laugh and arches her back while he sucks on her neck and rubs his palm over her chest. He takes her nipple into his mouth and she purrs, raking her hands through his long silver hair.

  Fantastic. They’re actually going to go at it right in front of me.

  Knowing Dee can probably see my face redden from here, I close my eyes. Maybe if I don’t react to them, they’ll decide to get it on somewhere else.

  “We’re embarrassing her.”

  I snap my eyes open. Dee’s looking right at me.

  “Let’s give her something to see.” Snake sits up between her legs and rolls her onto her stomach. Dee moans when he reaches under her and undoes her pants, peeling them and then her panties down to her hips.

  So much for them going elsewhere.

  He pulls her pants down to her ankles and undoes his own.

  I should be looking away, but I can’t seem to turn my head or will my eyes to close. An ache starts between my legs. Mortification washes over me, and I’m sure they can see it, even though I know that’s impossible from where they are.

  Something brings my gaze up. I end up looking right at Spider, who’s still sitting in his chair beside Striker, only both of them are watching us now.

  From here, it’s hard to be certain, but I’m sure Striker’s shoulders are shaking. Spider sits back more comfortably, lounging like a king watching the show.

  Oh, when I get my hands on him…

  Dee lets out a moan, drawing my attention. I wish I hadn’t looked.

  Snake is leaning over her, shoving her shirt up and cupping her breasts while Dee pushes up onto her hands and knees, grinding into him. One of his hands massages her breasts, the other slipping between her legs, teasing.

  Dee rubs against him, tossing her head. Her eyes catch mine, and her lips pull into a smile.

  “Ah, fuck.” Her voice is throaty with need.

  “Baby, how the fuck do you make me hot for you after twenty years?” Snake growls and plows into her from behind. Dee groans and ruts against him.

  My nipples peak, and my sex creams, the moisture coating my thighs.

  Everything I’ve been taught tells me that watching this is wrong. The sight of those two going at it like animals for all to see—as if it gets them off even more to know I’m watching them—makes my blood run hot. My insides coil, my core aching for the feel of a man with a spider tattoo stroking me to that sweet, explosive oblivion I felt with him earlier.

  My gaze rises involuntarily to Spider. His eyes burn into me as if he’s watching my every breath. As if he can see my sex getting wetter. His tongue flicks over his lips, and I swear I see a bulge in his pants, though I know I can’t from here.

  Looking away from him doesn’t help, because I only end up staring at Snake and Dee. At Snake, who’s gripping her shoulder, hips pounding against hers, and Dee, who’s clawing at the ground and grinding slowly into him.

  Waves of heat pulse through me, making my limbs feel weak until my legs threaten to fold and cost me my footing. My sex is aching so intensely that it hurts. Especially when Spider’s hand rubs between his legs.

  His eyes don’t leave mine.

  There’s a couple taking each other like savages before his eyes, and his gaze is all on me. However much he was ignoring me before, he’s not now.

  One touch from him and I’d…how did he put it? Pop.

  One touch from him, and I’d go off like a rocket.

  Snake captures Dee’s chin and he eats at her mouth. Their tongues duel, their bodies grinding, both of them enjoying every stroke.

  Lord help me, this is hot as all get out.

  Spider’s hands are on the arms of the chair now, and he looks relaxed, but I can feel the need hammering off of him.

  Snake’s hips rock faster. Dee pants, fingers digging into the dirt while she rides him greedily. Spider leans forward in his chair, his eyes blue fire.

  Snake grabs Dee’s hair and pumps into her viciously. He rears up and lets out a growl of release. Dee cries out. The two of them collapse on the ground in a heap, huffing. They lie there without moving, and I seriously wonder if they’re going to sleep right there on the ground like a couple of wild dogs.

  Spider watches me from his chair for a long moment, and his intense stare drives home what I’ve just done.

  I’ve just watched Dee and Snake have crazy sex. I
t’s no better than if I’d parked myself in front of the clubhouse TV and watched one of those porn movies I saw when Spider first brought me to this place.

  A lashing for me.

  Fully expecting Spider to leave me tied here all night while this celebration of sin rages on, I put my head back against the tree again, shame devouring my insides.

  Then Spider rises smoothly from his chair and strolls across the yard toward me. I lick my lips, tensing.

  Taking his time, he steps over a prone Whistler, who looks like he’s passed out. He weaves through the crowd, steps right over the pile of limbs that is Snake and Dee offering them a passing grin, and continues toward me, his eyes spheres of blue lust.

  He stops in front of me, but not close enough to touch. “Sore?”

  I make a muffled angry sound around the whistle still in my mouth. He knows I can’t answer.

  But he’s not wrong. Every move I make has my limbs screaming.

  As if taking pity on me, he closes in, but then instead of untying me, he runs his palms over my breasts, up to my throat, then back down to my breasts again. My nipples poke at his palms, and he tweaks them with his fingers.

  Spears of pleasure shoot through me and I whimper helplessly.

  Starved for attention, my back bows, pressing my breasts into his roving hands.

  I spit the whistle out of my mouth. I consider growling at him to stop this but think better of it. This was a punishment, intended to teach me my place. If I show anger, he might change his mind.

  “You want to say something to me, thief?”

  So I’m still only a thief to him.

  I look away, refusing to let him see my rage, and say nothing.

  Pressing slowly into me, he runs his hands along my arms, at once massaging the ache in them and intensifying it. Then he tugs on the length of the rope that’s tied around my front. Since it’s all one rope, the pressure he applies tugs on my bound arms just enough to heighten the throbbing there. I wince.

  “Don’t hold back.” He leans in, inhaling the scent of my hair, running the tip of his nose along the side of my neck. “Tell me how much you hate me.”