by Marie James
TJ nods. “Let her wake up in this mess. Maybe she’ll learn her fucking lesson.”
He walks closer to her, stepping absently over one of the dead guys. If I were normal, the sight of three young men scattered in pieces around the room would freak me out. The only thing I’m concerned about though is their penchant for date-rape and wondering if their blood contains anything antibiotics won’t cure, because we’re both covered in it. You can’t rip out someone’s entrails and slit their throat while their heart is still pumping without getting a little blood on your clothes.
“You should be safe at home reading a book or something, beautiful.” TJ uses his gloved hand to sweep her blood-matted blonde hair from her face. “Now, you’re here covered in blood.”
She whimpers, her eyes fluttering open before closing again.
“You want to be identified?” I hiss.
The guy I was planning to leave alive is quickly becoming another witness we don’t need.
“It was my pleasure saving you.” TJ swipes his finger through a splatter of blood on her arm and then draws a heart on her cheek.
He’s so close to institutionalization, it’s unreal. The man is certifiable, crazy as crazy gets. Yet, I love him as a brother, and couldn’t ask for a better accomplice in getting retribution for the pain they caused our girl.
“Proceed,” he says as he stands up straight, finally focusing on the matter at hand.
“Do you like watching women get raped?” I cross the distance to the last man alive and squeeze his jaw until he yelps in pain.
His response is more blubbering and generic pleas for his life.
“Listen to me.” He sobs again, forcing me to shake his head until he looks up at me. “Are you listening?”
“Please don’t kill me,” he begs. “I’ll do anything.”
“I’m betting on it,” I agree.
Chapter 1
Molly
You know those plans you make?
The ones that go off without a hitch in your head?
I’ve imagined how tonight was going to go for years.
YEARS!
I’m certain that no less than a million times since I noticed Briar was more than just one of my brothers’ friends, I’ve run scenario after scenario through my mind about how our first kiss is going to happen. It’s been tweaked a little over the years.
The way I imagined this kiss ending when I was fourteen was incredibly different than the dream that woke me up this morning with my breaths soughing out in harsh pants and my legs trembling.
You see, having an orgasm in your sleep will leave you exhausted, yet begging for more. My mouth waters with just the thought of his lips on mine. Almost nightly since I came home from school, thoughts of him have led to exactly that, an unsated body and images that are eating away at my timidness, forcing me to plan.
It’s made me brave.
It’s pushed me into action.
It’s the reason I’ve been stalking him like a lion creeping up in the grass behind an inattentive gazelle.
Only Briar isn’t a gazelle.
He isn’t the prey.
He’s the predator.
Most days it feels as if the roles are reversed, and he’s watching me, waiting for me. Only he never pounces. He never gets caught licking his lips as if he’s anticipating the taste of my skin the way a hungry beast would. He never takes that next step, and he makes damn sure we’re never left alone together. I’ve been able to corner him a few times in the last couple of weeks, but we always get interrupted. There are so many damn people around the clubhouse and my house on the back of the property that privacy is impossible.
If he didn’t haunt my every waking moment, if I couldn’t feel his eyes on me every second, maybe things would be different. Yet, there he is, near my brother, watching me. Lynch is so wrapped up in my best friend Zoe that he isn’t aware of anything but her. It’s the perfect diversion as far as I’m concerned.
I know Briar is well aware of me.
I know he sees me talking to one of the new hangarounds.
Disappointment draws his brows together as I lean in closer to the handsome boy who has no idea that he’s the pawn in my sick, fucked-up game.
“I was told to stay away from you,” the drunk guy says, never taking his eyes from the front of my low-cut top. My breasts are on display as much as I can make them without one of my brothers or Briar losing their shit over it. I mean, Professor’s boy toy, Kai is riding his cock in the living room while a girl sucks his dick, but heaven forbid I show a little damn skin.
“I thought you were a bad boy,” I coo, thankful my low-cut top is doing most of the work for me. The man is entranced.
In a different life, one that wasn’t ruled entirely by a man I’m never supposed to have, this guy would be perfect for me. He’s handsome, and before the last couple of shots he tossed back in rapid succession, he actually sounded halfway intelligent. Normal is a fantasy though. It’s not something I’ll ever be allowed. Normal is for suburbanites, not for the only daughter of a notorious biker. As a Princess born into a one-percenter biker club, I’ll never know normal. I accepted it a long time ago, but there are men in my life that would happily see me end up a virgin cat lady. That shit isn’t going to fly if I have anything to do with it.
“I said I was told not to, not that I was going to listen.” He gives me a mega-watt smile, and I sort of feel guilty that he may be missing a few of those perfect, white teeth before he makes it home tonight.
Does that make me evil? Uncivilized? Maybe, but things are different for us at the Ravens Ruin clubhouse. We don’t follow social norms. In fact, we shun most of them, living by the if it feels good, do it mentality. Well, everybody else does. I’m treated like a ten year old. I’m surprised I’m even allowed in the clubhouse when there’s a party going on.
“I like a man who knows what he wants.” I run my finger over his lip while biting mine for effect. “Why don’t you meet me in room three? Down the hallway to the left.”
The speed in which he sucks down the remainder of his beer, heading in that direction is damn near comical. I look around, blatantly suspicious, and all the while not making eye contact with Briar, before turning around and heading in that direction as well.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
Briar’s grip on my arm is firm but not painful. He caught up faster than I’d anticipated, having reached me just a few feet down the back hallway that leads to the entertainment rooms.
I grin before rolling my lips between my teeth and turning to face him.
“Having a little fun,” I tell him with an air of nonchalance. “Now if you’ll let me go, I have someone waiting for me.”
“Like hell you do,” he spits.
In my dreams and fantasies, this is where he’d shove me against the wall and claim me. He’d tell me he’s the only man who can touch my lips or see my body. He’s the one who will take my virginity and only when I’m ready. This is where he’d confess his love for me and vow to cherish me for the rest of his life. We’d face my brother together, a united force that couldn’t be separated by the force of my family.
He releases my arm, and I know instantly that tonight won’t go the way I have dreamed.
“Okay, Molly.” He runs a rough hand over the top of his dark hair. “You win. We can’t protect you forever.”
We.
He’s referencing himself, and my brothers Lynch and TJ, like I’m a baby that needs constant supervision.
My heart implodes with each inch he steps away from me.
“If that guy is who you want—” His throat works on a thick swallow. “Then all I can say is use protection. Be safe.”
He’s either calling my bluff, or he really doesn’t care that another man is waiting for me down the hallway.
Neither one of the scenarios are ones I’ve considered. I don’t have a contingency plan for this. In each one of my mental schemes, he’s reacted in a
possessive way. Fantasy Briar would never walk away and let me join some horny guy alone in a room only used for sex. He would never tell me to be safe knowing I was about to give away something that belonged only to him.
Tears sting the backs of my eyes as doubt settles in my gut. Have I been reading him wrong since I got home? Have I misinterpreted the way his eyes follow me? Is he only keeping an eye on me because of an order he’s following from his president?
“That’s it?” I spit. It’s true what they say about the thin line between love and hate. I just jumped over the damn thing with both feet. “Be safe?”
He nods but refuses to look me in the eye.
“Any pointers?” I snip. “Anything I need to tell him? Or do you think he knows how to pop my cherry without hurting me?”
His jaw tenses, but still, he remains silent.
“I hope he makes me come first. I hear that helps with the pain.”
“Molly,” he warns.
“I don’t think I’ll even tell him,” I continue. “He won’t think I’m a virgin. No one else in the clubhouse is.”
Nothing but clenching fists and that strong clenching fucking jaw of his.
“I’ll try not to wince. Maybe keep the lights off, so he doesn’t see the blood.” I turn away from him. “Have a good night.”
“Don’t.”
It’s one simple plea whispered in a dark hallway, yet, it has the ability to stop me in my tracks.
“Don’t what?” I ask as I turn back around and walk toward him.
I don’t stop within the distance most would consider respectable. I press myself against his body, moving forward until I feel his back meet the wall.
“Don’t go in there? Don’t let him fuck me? Don’t give him what belongs to you?”
His eyes squeeze tight, and I miss the piercing blue stare immediately.
“Don’t what?” I hiss with anger this time.
“Just don’t.” His voice is low, full of something I can’t decipher, something he’s not willing to vocalize.
“Briar.” I cup his cheek, not missing the half a second he relents and tilts his head to increase the contact before stiffening again.
“Don’t do that either,” he snaps, pulling his face from my touch.
His glacial eyes meet mine in challenge. I told myself when I woke up this morning that I wouldn’t close my eyes tonight without putting all of my cards on the table. We’ve been dancing around each other for years, more so these last couple of months. I’m resolved to find out exactly what’s going on, even if it leaves me devastated.
“Briar,” I say again.
His chest is heaving against mine. I can’t ever remember a time when we’ve been so close. My fingers itch to touch him again. My tongue tingles to lick the rough scruff on his strong, stubborn jaw.
Without thinking of the repercussions, I jump, knowing he’ll catch me. I may not be sure of his feelings, but I know instinctively that he’s aware of my movements, predicting what I’m going to do seconds before they become actual actions on my part.
Just as I’d hoped, he catches me under my thighs. I don’t give him a second to question it or enough time to set me back down. I wrap my arms around his shoulders, digging my nails into his hair until they scrape his scalp, a little payback for the pain he’s caused me.
I press my mouth to his, obsessing over the sound of his breath hitching, knowing I’ll masturbate to the very memory of that sharp intake of breath for years and years to come.
I anticipate being shoved away when I sweep my tongue over the seam of his lips, but I’m ecstatic when his mouth opens. Now, this is what I’ve fantasized about. The brush of my tongue against his for the first time is nothing short of euphoric. I know for a fact that just this kiss, just the taste of beer on his pink tongue, would be better than anything the guy in the room down the hall has to offer.
We groan in unison, but the bliss only lasts for a flash.
“We can’t,” he pants against my lips.
“We are,” I assure him and dive back in.
Only this time, he’s unresponsive. His lips are no longer moving against mine. His tongue isn’t brushing mine. It’s locked behind the damn stubborn clench of his perfect jaw. Even knowing this, even rationalizing that our moment is over, I keep my mouth on his, praying for another weak second, another slip in his morals because opening my eyes and facing his rejection will be soul-crushing. It’s something I want to postpone for as long as I possibly can.
My world comes crashing down the second I hear my best friend say, “Oh shit.”
I don’t know how bad things are going to be until I pull my lips from Briar’s and turn my head. My brother is walking toward us while Zoe is trying to wiggle out of his hands. He releases her immediately, presumably, so his hands are free to pummel his best friend. I should let go of Briar, but I hold him tighter. If I’m not mistaken, his fingers clench the back of my thighs. Only then does it register why he’s clinging to me.
I was so wrapped up in the brush of his tongue on mine, I didn’t register the rest of our bodies. The ridge of his erection is situated right between my legs, the heat of it pressed against the thin, lacy material of my thong. From the feel of things, he wouldn’t be able to put me down without it being very fucking clear just how he feels about what’s going on.
“I’m going to fucking kill you,” Lynch threatens as he storms toward us. “How long has this been going on?”
“Nothing is going on,” Briar assures him.
“Says the dead guy that just had his lips on my baby sister.” The familiar vein in Lynch’s head is throbbing. It’s a testament to his anger level if I can see it in the dim light of the hallway.
Briar, as if realizing he’s still holding me, releases his grip on my thighs. I slide down his body, reluctant to step away even though I sway a little on my feet. The alcohol I drank earlier is choosing now to affect my ability to stand up straight and confident. As mad as he is, I don’t think my brother would hurt me. Keeping myself between the two men is my only focus.
“Taking advantage of a drunk girl really isn’t your style, Brother.” Lynch is pissed. I can tell by the calm in his voice. Yelling to get his point across has never been his style. He’s menacing enough without having to use a raised voice.
“Exactly,” Briar agrees. “That’s why you know nothing is going on.”
“Get her out of here,” Lynch spits at Zoe without even taking his eyes off Briar.
Zoe reaches for me, but before I take her hand, I step closer to my brother.
“I kissed him,” I vow. “If you hurt him, I’ll never forgive you.”
Lynch grunts in my direction as Zoe drags me down the hallway and out of the clubhouse, but I realize as the cool night air hits my face that he never actually promised me Briar was safe from his wrath.
Chapter 2
Briar
“You want my sister?” Lynch, the President of the Ravens Ruin MC and my best friend for the last ten years, is livid, understandably so.
It takes a lot for him to get this upset, but I always knew Molly was going to be a source of contention between the two of us eventually. I’ve pictured how this conversation was going to go more times than I can count. Each and every scenario has ended with me hanging from the end of his rope.
“Answer me,” he spits.
“No.” I’m sick to my stomach the second the lie spills from my lips.
I’ve never been forced to lie to him before. There were a couple of times Molly and I were caught talking, gravitating a little too close for his liking, but never have I opened my mouth and purposely lied to him.
“You’re hard,” he hisses. “I thought you didn’t get turned on.”
I almost laugh. Man does he have things completely wrong.
“I’m celibate,” I remind him. “Not dead.”
I’m not going to go into detail how a hot chick rubbing on any celibate man’s cock has the potential to make him pop wood.
“She’s been drinking,” I explain. “I caught her coming down the hallway with some hangaround asshole. I put a stop to that shit real fast. She was mad.”
I shake my head. I don’t want things worse for her, but at the same time, I’m saving my own ass here.
“She jumped up and kissed me. You guys turned the corner like a split second after she did it.”
Another lie.
Her lips were on mine for eleven seconds the first time she pressed her mouth against me, four with them just pressed to mine as if she was debating taking things further. Four fucking seconds. That’s how long I was able to resist the brush of her tongue until I opened my mouth for her. I spent the remaining seven seconds experiencing the most erotic kiss of my life. The brush of her tongue, that mutual groan.
Jesus, if I keep thinking about it, my cock will never soften.
“She probably won’t even remember she did it tomorrow,” I tack on.
I release a breath I don’t even realize I’m holding when the tension in his arms relaxes marginally.
“Where is the motherfucker?” he seethes. “I’ll make sure that motherfucker never thinks about touching her again.”
“I’ll take care of him,” I offer. “You need to get back to your girl. No telling how long this next trip is going to last.”
His eyes dart from mine and back down the hallway before they settle on mine again.
“You know she’s going to start dating eventually.” Just saying the words makes stomach acid rise up in my throat.
“Not anytime soon. She’s too young.”
“She’s the same age as Zoe,” I remind him. “Keep that in mind when you have your woman spread out for the world to see while you fuck her.”
Zoe and Lynch were seconds away from fucking in the living room just moments ago. It was the only thing that gave me assurance that I wouldn’t be caught creeping after his little sister. Just last week he had one of the new members and one of the clubwhores with them behind closed doors. I don’t know the exact details, but from the whispers I’ve heard, I don’t think it was a riveting game of fucking Uno.