Ravens Ruin MC: The Complete Series

by Marie James

Turning slightly, I run my fingers over the bruises blooming on my skin, the evidence of my punishment.

  Pain was clear in his eyes. His tortured soul bleeding out right before my eyes, so intense I had to look away. I couldn’t face his demons. Addressing his would only force me to recognize my own.

  Each time he touches me, I give a little piece of myself away. Each time his lips brush mine or his tongue licks into my mouth, I lose some of the walls I’ve built up.

  Lynch is deadly. He’s untouchable in any real sense, and wanting him, needing him, is a fairy tale.

  No.

  There’s nothing redeeming about this place or the man who runs the Ravens Ruin MC. I’m not progressing toward a happily ever after. I’m stuck in a nightmare, and Lynch is my puppet master. Hell, he’s controlling each and every damn person in this compound.

  A clang on the other side of the door forces me to refocus. Fixating on all of the things I’ve done since arriving here won’t change anything. It won’t alter the fact that I let a woman fondle my tits as I writhed on Lynch’s mouth within an hour of my arrival. It won’t modify the truth that watching Vixen suck him off turned me on more than I ever thought it could. And it sure as fuck won’t erase Xena’s mouth on my pussy, or how much I fucking enjoyed it.

  Nothing will change, not my memories or the incessant need to have Lynch’s body touching mine. Just like Lynch walking away time and time again after he’s done with me will never change.

  I step into the shower and turn both nozzles up full blast. The frigid rush of water is quickly replaced by warm, soothing heat. I don’t know if the soreness in my muscles is from Xena’s deep-tissue massage or a combination of everything that has happened since I arrived. Regardless, the heat of the water isn’t strong enough to wash it away. With exhaustion, I reach for the shower gel, pooling it in my palm before lathering it up.

  Twice I’m forced to wash and rinse to get the slick oil off my skin. Twice I brush over my clit and groan at the unsatisfied need still waiting there. Coming multiple times didn’t eliminate the urge to want to do it again, over and over until I’m too tired to open my eyes.

  When I step out of the shower, I take my time drying off, hoping on some off chance that Xena will have given up on me and left to go find someone to fuck.

  No such luck.

  Xena is waiting with a small smile on her face when I walk back into the room covered only by the bath towel.

  My cheeks heat when her grin turns salacious.

  “It’s like that, huh?” Teasing marks her tone, but the feral need burning in her eyes tell me she can turn serious in a split second.

  “I’m not a lesbian,” I spit, eyes widening at the confession.

  Her grin grows wider as she shrugs. “Neither am I, but we don’t really do labels around here.”

  The warning in her voice is clear, and my mind revisits the conversation I had with Molly after my first night here. Slut-shaming and judgments of any kind won’t be permitted. I can do my own thing, but having an opinion one way or the other on what anyone else does won’t be tolerated.

  Grabbing my tank top from the chair, I pull it over my head before climbing on the table.

  “Do you want to keep the patch?”

  I roll up, looking down at the apex of my thighs. “Might as well wax it all.”

  Change is good, and lord knows the status quo isn’t quite working for me.

  Xena sets to work, and I almost revel in the warmth of the wax as she spreads it over me. I know, however, that the soothing heat will be short-liv…

  “Fuck,” I grunt when she quickly peels the first cloth strip away.

  No matter how many times I have this done, that first strip is always a harsh slap to the face. I contemplate growing a full bush in an effort to deter Lynch from touching me, but knowing him, he’ll have someone hold me down and wax me to his specifications.

  The thought of being restrained while Lynch orders others to do things to me is more appealing than it should be. My eyes flutter closed as the images flash through my mind. Ronan would hold down one arm while Xena would clasp the other. Lynch’s head would disappear between my legs.

  I swallow roughly, barely registering the wax strip being peeled from my skin.

  “Do you know how hard it is to concentrate on doing this right when I’m watching you slicken right before my fucking eyes?” The lusty intonation is back in her voice.

  “Sorry,” I mumble, keeping my eyes closed. I can’t face her. I can’t even confess out loud just how damn deviant my thoughts are sometimes. I hadn’t even given a thought to my sexual bucket list in weeks. After being so uncomfortable with all of the sex acts happening around me in the clubhouse recently, I knew I’d never be relaxed enough to do some of those things myself, no matter how many times I dreamed of them before arriving at the Ravens Ruin MC.

  Yet, I just had a bisexual three-way. Well, sort of. I don’t know what actually classifies a three-way, but surely two people touching and pleasing me sexually at the same time counts. I mark it off the mental list.

  “Don’t be sorry.” Xena clears her throat just before cool, soothing fingers touch my delicate flesh. “This is to prevent irritated skin.”

  I hold as still as humanly possible, wanting it yet terrified that she’s going to touch me again. She never brushes my clit. Never slips her slender finger inside of me, and I’m disappointed when she walks away to wash her hands in the bathroom.

  “Thanks,” I holler as I jump off the table and tug my yoga pants up my legs. I’m out of the room before she steps back out of the bathroom.

  Chapter 21

  Lynch

  “You seem agitated.”

  My eyes narrow at my best friend in warning.

  “We live for this shit,” he says.

  “We need to get this shit under control,” I hiss as I stomp out a cigarette under my boot.

  I don’t even smoke. I mean I may light up every once in a while, and pot is never fully clear of my system, but cigarettes are nasty as fuck. It only verifies just how chaotic my life has become.

  “Without things like today, what fun would we have?” A devious smirk crosses his face.

  “Pussy. We could all be balls deep in one of the girls, instead of dealing with this,” Hornet grunts from the other side of Briar. “You should try it sometime.”

  Briar’s jaw snaps shut when I cock a challenging eyebrow in his direction.

  My friend’s only release are things like what’s about to go down. He lives for it. Shooting a bullet through someone is equivalent to my shooting a load inside of Candi.

  My eyes scan the empty parking lot of the shitty hotel we convened at an hour ago. The last thing I need right now is thoughts of that woman filtering into my head. She’s a fucking distraction, has been since the second she showed up.

  The days I’ve spent avoiding her since I walked in on her and Xena have been pure fucking torture.

  I go stone-hard just walking through my own damn house and catching the scent of her body wash. Hell, my dick twitched in my jeans yesterday when I saw her coffee cup in the sink. I barely resisted the urge to fuck her as a reminder that dirty dishes go in the dishwasher, not left in the sink for someone else to clean up.

  “…and two that stay holed up in the back room.”

  My eyes find Briar’s, and I hate the worry in his eyes. He knows I wasn’t paying attention. Not knowing the game plan can be deadly in this business, and he’s already nervous about me being here.

  The president isn’t supposed to get his hands dirty, he said to me yesterday when I informed him of my intent to come along tonight.

  Cowboy sure as hell never got involved in the street level workings of his club. That’s what his guys were for. Hell, half of the time, he didn’t even want the details.

  “One more time,” Briar insists for my benefit, and I pay attention this time when Hornet starts giving the details of the house we’re about to enter.

  The poli
ce and Ravens Ruin MC are natural enemies. It’s not that we hate every cop everywhere, or that we seek to hurt those that wear a badge, but they tend to interfere with our livelihood. That being said, they do some things right. Just like SWAT, we've dressed alike, all in black so we can identify each other if things go to shit when we make entry. We’re also hitting the trap house right before dawn. It seems to be the only time the tweakers take a fucking break.

  “Everyone clear?” Hornet asks as he wraps up.

  Everyone nods, and we begin to move into action.

  Seven guys showing up at a location on motorcycles is very conspicuous, so we’ve rented two SUVs under one of the clubwhores’ names. TJ assured me earlier that Erin “Legs” Trejo was more than excited to be included in club business in some way. We pile in, Briar driving the SUV I’m in and TJ behind the wheel of the other.

  I push every thought out of my head. Blank is the only way around the thoughts that want to leak in. I watch as our line of motorcycles disappears in the side mirror as we drive closer to our destination. I can feel Briar’s eyes on the side of my face each time we catch a red light on the way across town. Even though I’ve had a gut feeling that there’s something he wants to talk to me about, I’ve done my best to ignore him.

  Unfortunately, pushing thoughts away and pretending they don’t exist hasn’t made things better.

  “These younger generations will never learn,” Boston muses from the back seat as we draw closer. “Pitiful fuckers.”

  We all know this intervention on the trap house that has somehow managed to be turned into party central could go very calmly. There’s a chance we can go in there and correct the issue with little to no bloodshed. We all also know it will never happen. The men inside know that an example has to be made and not one of them is willing to make the sacrifice. They will fight to the death, and so will we.

  With precision only obtained from years of working together, we make our way down the quiet street and into the yard of our designated location.

  “Fuck!” Axe yells when he trips over something in the yard.

  Dogs begin to bark, and a security light on a house down the street flashes on.

  I’m on the porch beside Briar with TJ just to my right when I spin around and glare at him.

  “Idiot,” Briar grumbles as he tugs open the screen door.

  “His brother is inside,” TJ hisses in my ear.

  “What?” I hold my hand up, indicating to Briar that he needs to wait.

  “His brother,” TJ says with his mouth damn near touching my ear. His words are softer than a whisper and only meant for me. Angling his head, he motions toward Axe at the back of the group.

  “You wait until now to tell me this shit?”

  TJ’s shoulders move behind my body in a quick shrug. “I thought he was loyal until he just pulled that shit.”

  His head is exactly where mine went the second he revealed the information on Axe.

  “Axe,” I hiss.

  His head snaps up, eyes wide before he slowly begins to make his way in my direction.

  “Yeah, Prez?” His voice is shaking, trembling with either fear or excitement. There’s only room for one emotion right now, and from the way his eyes are darting from me back to the door repeatedly, I can easily tell he’s worried, either for himself or his brother inside.

  He won’t have to worry long though.

  “This is your initiation,” I tell him and spin him into position in front of the door. “Make me proud, and you’ll no longer be wearing a prospect patch.”

  “Fuck,” Hornet mumbles quietly. “Good help is so hard to find.”

  I don’t have the luxury of considering how much Axe has been helping Hornet in the garage since he first shrugged on his prospect cut. Secrets, big or small, aren’t tolerated in my club. I have half a mind to line up TJ right behind Axe and take my chances considering he’s just now told me about something that had the potential to get all of us killed.

  “All you have to do is kick the door in,” I whisper in Axe’s ear. He begins to tremble even more. “We’re right behind you.”

  Axe glances over his shoulder, and I don’t know if he’s begging and pleading or saying goodbye to the group like a man.

  “Don’t shoot!” he screams just as his boot hits the wood near the doorknob.

  Seems he was begging. A man, a true Ravens Ruin member would never give a warning. He would allow his body to be riddled with bullet holes as the fuckers inside focused on him allowing us to focus on them.

  The yelled warning in the front yard alerted the men inside just as we’d expected. I don’t know if Axe alerted them before we rolled into town, but he wasn’t privileged to the address until we pulled up down the street.

  Axe’s body crumples to the floor just as the sound of bullets stop. The echo of clips being pulled and replaced is our cue to get to work. Briar enters first, and we all file behind him and spread out.

  The anticipation, the build-up of things like this is where all of the energy is. It takes seconds before the half dozen people inside are incapacitated. Bloody mist seems to be suspended in the air around us. It combines with the smoke of spent bullets, leading to the familiar scent of destruction.

  Gurgling draws my attention, but I don’t even give the guy that was hired to run this house a second of my time.

  “Get his cut,” I order before I walk out of the house.

  We’ll burn Axe’s leather tomorrow in front of the other members’ and girls. It’s tradition, but it’s also a way to remind everyone that the only way you’re honored in Ravens Ruin is if you die for the club. They’ll never know the details of what happened tonight. Their minds running wild with all of the possibilities is a much better deterrent.

  “Where are you going?” Briar’s voice is close behind me as I walk toward the SUV.

  We always move fast after a job, but I’m more anxious than usual to get out of there.

  “I want to head back to the clubhouse,” I mutter as I pull open the passenger door.

  “Are we waiting for Hornet?” he asks as he climbs in behind the wheel.

  “He can ride with TJ. They have room now.”

  All of the thoughts I’ve barely managed to keep at bay the last couple of days hit me like a ton of bricks in my chest. I know where I need to be, and I can’t seem to get there fast enough.

  Chapter 22

  Candi

  It’s not time to wake up. I can feel it in my bones. We went to sleep late. With many of the guys gone, it gave us girls the chance to play Cards Against Humanity. My throat is still sore from all of the laughing.

  Even though I could sleep for several more hours, my eyes still flutter open in the soft, new light of dawn.

  I stiffen the second I see him standing over me, but it isn’t fear that is coursing through my veins and rocketing up my heart rate. Something akin to happiness fills me, and I know it’s reflected on my face. He’s avoided me the last couple of days, so being surprised that he’s here doesn’t begin to explain my feelings.

  “Shh,” he whispers as his finger brushes over my lips.

  I blink up at him, wondering when I’ll wake from this dream. It has to be an illusion, an adaptation of the fantasies repeating over and over in my mind. There’s no way Lynch is scooping me out of his sister’s bed and carrying me down the hall, because only in nightmares does my hand brush against him and pull away with a sticky red substance.

  The blood on my fingers doesn’t scare me like it should. My first thoughts are of concern.

  “You’re hurt,” I mumble as he kicks his bedroom door closed.

  “It’s not my blood,” he grumbles as he crosses the room with me still in his arms.

  He doesn’t bother to turn on the lights when we enter the bathroom. He simply walks me to the counter, sitting me down on the cold granite.

  “Off,” he says, tugging at the hem of my shirt.

  His seductive lips are on my nipple before I can get th
e fabric free of my hair. Only his lips touch me, and I hate that his hands are idle at my hips as he clutches the countertop.

  “You’ve been punishing me,” I whisper, somehow still cognizant enough to let him know he has upset me.

  “I haven’t,” he vows as he releases my breast and looks into my eyes.

  “You have.” The burn of tears from the other day threatens again. “Is it because Xena touched me?”

  He shakes his head.

  “Because it makes me a whore? Because I’m just like the other girls?”

  “You’re not a whore,” he pants against my lips, reminding me of his declaration. I don’t kiss whores.

  Whimpering in his mouth, I’m needy and desperate for his touch and attention. I feel like I’ve withered without his contact.

  The rush of his breath as it leaves his nose is calming, as is the gentle yet dominating brush of his tongue against mine.

  “I missed you,” he confesses against my lips.

  “Don’t,” I breathe, squeezing my eyes tight and pulling my mouth away. “You can have my body, but quit fucking with my heart.”

  “I missed these lips,” he continues, ignoring my plea. His palm cups my jaw as his lips brush mine before his mouth moves lower. “Missed these tits.”

  I arch into him, surrendering to his skillful mouth.

  “This pussy.” My legs spread on the countertop until they’re wide enough to accommodate the expanse of his shoulders. “Especially this pussy.”

  The first swipe of his tongue along my seam nearly jolts me off the counter, but reality comes crashing in the second I see the red smear from his cut as he shifted down my body.

  “Stop,” I hiss and push at his shoulders.

  He looks lust-drunk when his eyes turn up to mine.

  “You’re getting blood on me,” I complain.

  He snaps back, looking in terror at my tits now covered in someone else’s blood.

  “Fuck.” He strips, nearly falling over as he tries to take off his boots with his jeans and briefs around his calves.

  A laugh erupts from my throat, and I expect him to glare at me for the slip-up, but when his eyes find mine, they’re filled with a hint of delight I’ve never seen him have before. The small grin playing on his lips is more seductive than it should be. Why does happiness make him a million times hotter?