Ravens Ruin MC: The Complete Series

by Marie James

  “Because she’s too aggressive?” Briar asks.

  “Because she uses too much teeth,” he corrects.

  We all wince when we see Briar’s brow scrunch up in pain. I’ve discovered TJ doesn’t mind a little pain with his sex. It’s only fair considering what he likes to do to willing women.

  “The other thing?” I redirect Briar.

  “Someone came forward. Confessed to starting the fire in Andover.”

  “Really?” Shit like that never happens. I’m immediately suspicious.

  “He was brought into questioning after our little visit.” TJ laughs at Briar as he relays the information.

  “So Candi is off the hook?” I interrupt. I don’t give a shit about minutia.

  “Yep,” Briar says, looking past me at my brother.

  “She can leave now,” TJ adds.

  If only the fire was the only thing keeping her here.

  “Let’s head to Detroit in the morning,” I say, changing the subject.

  “We just got back,” Briar complains. “My back is fucking killing me.”

  “You sound like an old man,” TJ taunts.

  “Get Xena to fix you up,” He stares at me like I’ve lost my damn mind. “It’s a back massage, not a fucking hand job.”

  “You must not be getting the royal treatment then,” TJ says just before standing up and walking across the room to claim Legs from the group of girls.

  “You know I don’t spend time alone with them,” he spits, sitting back deeper into the couch cushion with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

  “And now you’re acting like a fucking baby,” I tease. “No one said you have to go alone. Take Molly with you. She can read a magazine while Xena works you over.”

  I drop the subject entirely when he chokes on his beer at the suggestion.

  Chapter 34

  Candi

  “Don’t take her,” I beg when TJ walks up and whispers in Legs’ ear.

  I reach for her, but only catch air as my best friend’s jerk of a brother escorts her from the room.

  “We were having fun,” I whine at Molly. “I hate the boys around here.”

  I don’t really, though. I couldn’t hate anything right now if I wanted to. I’m drunk and horny. My bad mood melts away with my inhibitions the more I drink. Lynch is across the room, keeping an eye on me, so I feel safe enough to cut loose.

  I’ve caught peeks of him all night, so sneakily and covert he hasn’t caught me once, which has been a challenge considering his eyes have been laser-focused on me since he stepped inside of the room.

  “I hate all the boys, too,” Molly pouts.

  She hasn’t even bothered to look in Briar’s direction. I don’t know where her strength and determination come from. She has the will of a saint, much like Briar does with his vow of celibacy.

  “Why are you staring at me with your brow scrunched up like that?” She taps her finger against my forehead. “You’re gonna get wrinkles.”

  “Your brother’s face is always scrunched up.” I tap her forehead in return. “And he doesn’t have wrinkles.”

  “Boys are dumb,” Molly says as she reaches for another shot. “I should just be a lesbian.”

  “Here, here,” Xena says with a wide smile before tapping a shot glass against Molly’s.

  Molly sticks her tongue out at her before tossing her shot back. “You wish.”

  “Not surprisingly,” Xena begins before lifting her own shot to her mouth. “The ‘don’t touch the princess’ order extends to us women as well.”

  “No shit?” I question Xena. “So the girl isn’t ever allowed to come?”

  “I come!” Molly says a little too loudly.

  “Truth.” Xena nods her head for emphasis as she slaps her empty shot glass down on the table. “I’m honestly surprised Lynch has let you two stay in the same room together back at the house.”

  “Two people can share a bed without fucking each other,” Molly assures her.

  “I wouldn’t know,” Xena says with a wink. “What do you think of the new girls?”

  Grateful for the change of subject, I search the room for the girls that showed up with Minx earlier. I’ve tried not to be mad at the fairy-like woman, but she’s the one who also brought Cherry to the clubhouse. I can’t help but feel a little resentment toward her these days.

  “There,” Molly says pointing toward the bar.

  The same girl who walked up to Lynch earlier before settling on sucking TJ’s cock is on her knees between Ronan’s legs. I thought he’d be gone, either kicked out or dead, after what happened last week. Lynch didn’t kill him; he patched him in. I don’t know what the requirements are to join a biker gang, but I always thought it was more complicated than getting your dick sucked.

  “Wasn’t she just sucking TJ’s dick?” I ask as we all stand and watch the girl’s head bob up and down.

  “She must be chewing on him,” Xena observes. “Look at his eyes. That’s not the face of a man being pleased. Fucking amateurs.”

  We laugh as we watch Xena cross the room toward the bar and yank the girl off Ronan’s dick by a handful of hair. My eyes widen, thinking the poor girl is going to be dragged out of here, but instead Xena hits her knees and takes Ronan’s cock in her mouth, effectively teaching the girl how it’s done.

  “Did she mentor you as well?”

  I turn around at the question to find a handsome guy staring back at me. Caramel colored eyes rake over my body for a long moment until he looks back up, a crooked smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

  “Shoo,” Molly says, waving her hands as if she’s trying to get a raccoon to stop digging in the trash. “Go on.”

  The guy smiles, sauntering away even though he doesn’t go very far.

  My smile grows when he settles in a spot across the room.

  “Another shot,” Molly insists as she gets my attention by shoving a shot glass full of green liquid in my hand.

  “These burn. Why can’t we drink some of those Blue Motherfuckers? They were sweet and perfect.”

  “Just drink.” Molly taps the bottom of my shot glass.

  “This shit is burning a hole in my stomach,” I complain, but toss the shot back anyway.

  “The new prospect didn’t get sweet and sour when he went to the store,” she explains once our faces return to normal after the awful liquor burns down our throats.

  “So our only other option is kerosene?”

  “You’re bitchy today,” Molly snaps. My head jerks back, shocked at her sudden change in attitude. “Sorry. I’m moody today myself, apparently.”

  “I’m horny,” I say leaning forward and whispering in her ear conspiratorially.

  “Good to know,” she says with a chuckle. “You can sleep on the couch tonight, so I don’t have to worry about your wandering hands.”

  I wiggle my fingers and chuckle as I get closer and pretend to grab at her.

  “Stop,” she laughs swatting at me. “At this point, I might just take you up on the offer.”

  We settle down a little, but my mind keeps going back to Lynch. It’s always on the bastard.

  “I may be elsewhere tonight.” My eyes find the handsome guy from earlier, knowing that Lynch is glaring at me from the other side of the room.

  “That’s not the way to handle this,” Molly assures me as the guy stands and walks closer.

  Before he can reach me, a broad chest blocks my line of sight. A wall of muscles wearing a leather cut isn’t unusual, but it’s the PRESIDENT patch right at eye-level that makes my plans seem less than ideal.

  I take a step back so I can see into his eyes without breaking my neck.

  “Hey, baby.” I bite my lip, knowing he finds it sexy as fuck. “Need a whore for the night? I hear I taste as sweet as sugar.”

  “For fuck’s sake,” I hear Briar mutter from somewhere on the other side of the wall.

  “I’d like to try a sample,” the guy that was approaching before we were i
nterrupted says as he steps around Lynch’s back.

  Without breaking eye contact with me, Lynch lifts his arm and punches the poor bastard right in the nose. The guy, now not so handsome with blood spilling from his face, crumples to the floor.

  “Told you not to flirt with him,” Molly chastises.

  Two guys swoop in to carry the victim out of the clubhouse. No doubt he’ll be banned for life. I sure hope he didn’t have life-long goals to be a part of the MC.

  “I’m a dream crusher,” I say absently.

  “You’re playing with fire,” Lynch warns.

  His mention of flames brings a flash of memory back. Cherry’s hair was so red, I remember thinking it looked like wild flames all around her as she wrapped her mouth around a dick that didn’t belong to her.

  Doesn’t belong to you either.

  “Is that what attracted you to Cherry?”

  He frowns at my question as if he’s irritated I brought her up in the first place.

  “Does my dark hair not do it for you?” I point to the knot of messy hair on my head. “Not exotic enough for you?”

  “Maybe we should go home.” Molly grips my elbow, but I refuse to move. This has been coming to a head for a while, and right now is as good a time as any to hash this shit out.

  “I think that’s a great idea.” I feel Molly bristle beside me at Briar’s agreement.

  “I fuck all the new girls,” Lynch spits, a little late to the party in his explanation about Cherry.

  “Nice, Prez,” Briar criticizes.

  “I mean, I used to,” Lynch corrects.

  Too late. The damage is done. It takes an evil, sick asshole to keep acting the way he has been, and I’m fucking tired of it.

  “Maybe I should fuck all the new guys then?” I turn to walk in the direction of the living room where I know a few new hangarounds are talking with some of the patched members.

  “Enough,” he spits.

  The next thing I know, my world turns upside down, and a brutal hand is gripping my ass.

  “About fucking time,” I hear Molly say as the sounds of the party disappear.

  I don’t realize he’s thrown me over his damn shoulder until Lynch puts me back on my feet in the room I’ve recently considered the death chamber. It’s where any and all chances of having him for real died a little over a week ago when I wrapped my lips around Ronan’s dick.

  Chapter 35

  Lynch

  “You’re a fucking caveman,” Candi says as she reaches out to slap my chest. As much as I want her to touch me, I take a step back to avoid the contact.

  She misses and stumbles a few feet before I grab her and stand her up straight. Selfishly, I hold her against my chest. I’ve missed the warmth of her body since I crawled out of bed with her almost a week and a half ago.

  The thrumming pulse, the sky-rocketing blood pressure, and all the questions in my head settle the second I pull her against me. The tangy smell of liquor on her breath mixes with a flowery scent that’s all her own. I’m lost in her once again, always lost yet grounded when she’s in my arms.

  “I’m going to be sick,” she mutters, but makes no move to go to the bathroom.

  Her words break the serenity I’m allowing myself to feel. In a rush, I scoop her up and carry her to the toilet, putting her down and angling her toward the bowl mere seconds before she pukes. And pukes. And pukes.

  My stomach clenches at the sight, but it’s the sound that makes me want to rip my own ears off. I can gut a man from nuts to neck and never bat an eyelash, but the sound of someone vomiting just activates the same response in me. My stomach twists and turns, threatening to expel its contents.

  “Gross,” she complains before getting sick again.

  Instinctively, I place my palm on her back, comforting her as much as I think she’ll allow, all the while holding my breath and praying for it to end.

  “Just leave me alone,” she sputters.

  I almost give in, the threat of getting sick right along with her becoming all too real, but the pain in her voice settles the active volcano threatening to erupt in my stomach.

  “I’m not going anywhere, baby,” I assure her even as I eye the door reluctantly. I mean the words with one hundred percent truth, but other than her, she’s found my only weakness.

  I’m such a pussy when it comes to this shit.

  “Baby?” she huffs. “Don’t fucking call me baby. It’s empty, a completely fucking useless term of endearment.”

  “It’s not empty,” I mutter.

  How could it be? I don’t call anyone else baby. TJ may use it because he can’t ever remember the woman’s name he’s fucking, but I didn’t utter the word until the first time I said it to her. She wouldn’t know that though. I’ve closed myself off and refused to share anything emotional with her other than the look in my eyes when I’m deep inside of her.

  “As you can see, I’m in no position to fuck you tonight. You might want to set your sights elsewhere.” She wipes at her mouth with the back of her hand as she shifts back on her heels. “It won’t be happening with me.”

  I scoop my arms under hers and turn her toward the sink. “Rinse your mouth.”

  She reaches for the mouthwash the second I hold it out to her, greedily tilting the small cup to her lips.

  “Why does it have to be green?” she complains but pours it in her mouth, doing her best to swish it around without it squirting past her lips. After she spits, her eyes find mine in the mirror. Fuck, even pale and disheveled she’s beautiful.

  “Shower,” I urge.

  “I can clean myself,” she insists, but she stumbles the second I let her go.

  I smile on the inside when she reaches for me. “I don’t know why I’m so drunk. I only had two shots.”

  “You had six,” I correct, “and you were drinking absinthe. I don’t know how you can even feel your legs.”

  “I can’t.” She giggles, stomping her foot on the ground. Her laughter fades away when I reach into the waistband of her yoga pants. “Don’t.”

  “Baby, you need a shower.”

  “If I get naked, you’re gonna want to fuck me.”

  I sigh. “I want to fuck you with your clothes on, too, but you’ve gotten sick, and I’m not here to take advantage.”

  “First time for everything,” she whispers, but it’s loud enough for me to hear.

  Her flip-flops go flying as I push the clothes on her bottom half to the floor, and surprisingly she lifts her arms when I reach for the hem of her tank top.

  Do not lick her nipples. Do not lick her nipples.

  “Hold on,” I tell her as I direct her hands to the towel bar. “Let me get my clothes off.”

  I’m out of my clothes in seconds, not caring that my cut slides off the counter and falls to the floor. My father would cut my nuts off if he were alive to see it. I smile at the disobedience as I direct Candi into the small shower.

  “The shower back at the house is much better than this one,” I remind her as if it makes a fucking difference.

  “This is heaven.” Her head tilts back, the water cascading over her head.

  “Let me help you.” With one hand wrapped around her waist, I focus on getting her hair out of the knot it’s in on top of her head.

  “You’re hard,” she pants as I step close enough to pin her to the wall.

  Her hair requires both hands to get loose, and it’s the only thing I can think about right now. If I let my mind wander down south and how fucking good it feels for my length to be pressing into her stomach, we’ll never get out of here.

  “I’m always hard around you.”

  “Not just for me,” she spits. “For every woman.”

  Her hair falls as I pull the elastic band from it. Pushing it out of her face so I can see her eyes, I wait, looking down at her until she manages to focus on me.

  “For you,” I repeat.

  “This is gonna suck tomorrow.”

  Fuck she’s already ha
ving regrets, and I don’t plan to even fuck her tonight. Tomorrow morning on the other hand…

  I play it cool, redirecting her and praying she forgets that she hates me. “Getting sick tonight will keep the hangover from being so bad tomorrow.”

  “Not the hangover,” she sighs as the water trickles down her head, rejoicing in it hitting everywhere now that her hair is down. “You don’t have conditioner. My hair is going to be a wreck tomorrow.”

  “Sorry, baby.” I peck a kiss to her cheek and reach for the shampoo. “I’ll get some stocked immediately.”

  “Don’t do me any favors,” she murmurs, but she’s leaning into me a second later as I massage shampoo into her scalp.

  “Feel good?”

  “I wish you would leave me alone.”

  “We haven’t talked in days,” I remind her.

  “You’re everywhere.”

  “Like a rash.” I smile and tilt her head back under the water to rinse.

  “Like fucking herpes.”

  Her words pull a quick smile from me. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Liar.” She rests her head against my chest. “Everyone leaves me.”

  Me too, baby, me too.

  The rest of the shower and drying off are uneventful. She looks better in my shirt than I ever could’ve imagined, as it flirts with her thighs.

  After only a few minutes of bickering about where she’s going to sleep, I finally manage to convince her that against my chest and in my arms is the best place for her considering the amount of alcohol she drank tonight.

  “I’ve missed this,” I confess against her damp hair.

  “You can have any girl out there.”

  I don’t bother correcting her because it’s true. The difference has nothing to do with what I can have and everything to do with what I want.

  “You could’ve just fucked me and left me alone,” she continues when I don’t respond. “You told me I was safe here.”

  “You are safe, baby.” I hold her tighter.

  “I’m not safe,” she argues. “I’ve been treated poorly before coming here, but making me fall in love with you was the most brutal thing anyone has ever done to me.”

  Silent tears wet my chest.