Ravens Ruin MC: The Complete Series

by Marie James

  “We can’t—I can’t,” I correct before pausing. “Things will be awkward now.”

  “They don’t have to be. I can wait until you’re ready.”

  “I can’t,” I repeat. “You shouldn’t wait.”

  “Then I won’t,” he agrees even though I feel like he’s only placating me until I calm down. “I don’t want you to quit.”

  “There isn’t a chance for us, Owen.”

  I leave off the part about being in love with someone else and that the kiss we shared made me feel nothing compared to what I felt kissing Briar. Hurting him serves no purpose, and I’m not normally a mean person, even if I found myself kissing him first.

  I wanted to feel something for him. I honestly did, but thinking a second or a third kiss will somehow ignite feelings in me is foolish.

  “That’s fine too.” He doesn’t bother to hide the disappointment in his voice, and I’m grateful for his honest emotion. “Just friends, then.”

  I don’t cower away when he steps closer and presses a kiss to my forehead. He swallows, the sound audible in the silent room before he steps back.

  “Let me walk you to your car. Those bikers from the chasm have been in town more frequently. I don’t want something to happen to you.”

  Guilt rushes over me as we descend the stairs and exit through the front door of the clinic. He’s the only one in this equation that needs to worry about those bikers.

  “I promise not to let things be weird,” he vows as we reach my car, but there’s hesitation in his voice.

  “Okay,” I agree, knowing there’s a very slim chance I’ll ever return.

  He pulls me into another hug. “If he doesn’t realize what he’s got, he doesn’t deserve you.”

  Tears burn the back of my throat at his declaration, but I don’t give a voice to the pain.

  When he releases me, I climb inside my car and leave him standing in the parking lot, doing my best to ignore the pain in his eyes when my headlights flash over his face.

  I’m debating returning to the clubhouse to pack and leave for good when I find myself parked at the playground. This place has always been a comfort to me. Even after Briar’s wicked confession days ago, I find myself climbing out of my car and slowly making my way to the middle swing.

  I wait, head hung low as I give myself permission to finally let the tears fall. Silently they stream down my face. Even when the sound of footsteps echoes around me, I let them burn down my face. When the footsteps falter, and Briar doesn’t settle into the swing beside me, I lift my head to the darkness around me.

  Cold chills settle in my bones even though the summer night is warm. Briar isn’t here, but my senses tell me I’m not alone either. The protective eyes I felt on me days before aren’t the ones looking at me now. As calmly as I can manage without seeming rushed, I stand from the swing and begin walking toward my car. My pace increases the closer I get as I do my best to listen to my surroundings, a nearly impossible task with fear and my blood pounding in my ears. Thankfully, I’m able to get in my car and away from the park without incident, but my heart is still racing, and cold chills are stiffening my spine even as I pull up to the gate.

  Slowing at the entrance, I roll down my window. Pete’s smiling face calms my angst only mildly as he leans in to speak with me.

  “Hey, Princess. How was work?”

  “I—I think someone is following me,” I stammer.

  He straightens from my car. “Get inside, Princess. You’re safe here.”

  He pulls his radio to his mouth as I roll up my window and drive through the gate. Chains and Hornet are filing out the front door by the time I get out of my car.

  “No worries,” Chains says with a quick smile. “You’ll forget about it by the time you get inside.”

  I huff at his sureness, opting to walk through the clubhouse, rather than walk around the clubhouse in the dark. The chill I feel down to my bones will take forever to ebb away.

  Only I realize how wrong I am when I open the front door and step inside of the clubhouse.

  Deception is a funny thing. I question my sanity, wondering if what I felt at the park was of my own making, or if maybe I’m stuck in a nightmare, because there is no way Briar is on the fucking couch with a whore in his lap.

  Only it’s his cut, his battered boots, and his favorite pair of jeans under the greedy hands and licking mouth of some girl I’ve never seen before.

  The chills from earlier are quickly replaced with seething anger so hot and incendiary the room may catch fire from my will alone. Before I go full Carrie on this place, I look over and find my brother smirking at me.

  “Hey, Princess.”

  Briar doesn’t even flinch at TJ’s words, and it’s then I realize the man is passed out under the whore’s wandering hands.

  I hitch my head in her direction while holding TJ’s glaze. “You aren’t the only one who knows how to handle a knife, big brother, but I won’t be as disciplined or discerning as you.”

  His grin grows wider at my warning.

  “You can’t ruin the man’s good time,” TJ taunts.

  “Oh fuck,” Ronan hisses when he notices me standing in the middle of the living room before turning his attention back to the other woman. “Hey, honey?”

  I don’t know if he has a hero complex, or if he doesn’t want to be the one to clean up the blood spill, but Ronan stands and urges the girl off of Briar’s lap. The club VP doesn’t even move when the woman is removed.

  “Ronan,” I hiss as he starts to guide the grumbling girl away.

  “Eighty-sixed. You got it, Princess.”

  “Briar!” I yell, kicking his boot with my own shoe.

  He jolts, but his eyes are slow to open. An empty whiskey bottle slides out of his hand and clanks as it hits the floor.

  “Baby?” he slurs when he looks up at me.

  Heat burns my cheeks with the pet name. Silence is heavy around us, and I know everyone in the room is glad they have front row seats to this. I’d insist they all get the fuck out, but that will only draw even more unwanted attention to us.

  “Where did she go?” Briar asks as I reach down for him. “A little help, TJ?”

  Chuckling, my brother gets off his ass to help me lift Briar to standing.

  “Why were you letting that girl lick all over him?” I glare over Briar’s shoulder as we slowly make it across the room.

  “He’s a grown man,” he argues. “I’m not his mother or his warden.”

  “He was passed out, shithead.”

  “Such a pretty mouth saying such nasty things,” Briar grumbles.

  “He wasn’t passed out when they got started.”

  Agony takes up residence in the pit of my stomach at his words, but I keep my grip on Briar.

  “I was going to kill her instead of you,” Briar slurs as TJ reaches for the bedroom doorknob.

  “You drank a little too much to be murdering anyone’s pussy, bro,” TJ grunts as we shift Briar’s weight onto the bed. He stands back, shaking his head as he looks down at his friend. “You coming?”

  I shake my head, not pulling my eyes from Briar’s unconscious body.

  “Be careful, Princess.” He kisses my forehead and leaves the room.

  I stand still just watching him for long moments before I set to work getting his heavy boots unlaced and off of his feet. I should stop there, but I don’t. I roll him on his back and wrangle his cut and shirt from his lifeless body. The t-shirt lands on the floor, but with respect, I hang his cut over the lone chair in front of his small desk on the other side of the room.

  Even drunk and asleep, his muscles bunch under my fingers as I sweep them over his stomach to the top button of his jeans.

  “Jesus, what are you doing?” I mutter as I free that first button.

  He wouldn’t want this. If he were awake, he’d grip my hand and shove me away. He’d spew some more bullshit about hurting me or that what I’m doing isn’t allowed no matter how much we both
want it. With determination, I pop free the other three buttons of his fly and tug at the jeans, rolling him back and forth until they’re almost past the defined muscles of his ass. His boxers slip, revealing a decadent tan line I’ve never seen before.

  The stark contrast of the white flesh compared to the golden skin above it is confusing. He hasn’t taken his shirt off in front of me in years. When does he remove it? Who gets to see the hard-working muscles on his back and the ripple of bumps on his stomach?

  Not tempting myself any further, I hitch his boxers back into place before tugging his jeans the rest of the way off. They’re cast aside, joining his t-shirt on the floor.

  No longer able to watch him, I climb off the bed and go to his bathroom. With a cup of water from the faucet and some Advil I found in a drawer, I make my way back out to his bedside. He hasn’t moved an inch. I think better of leaving when I turn and reach the door. Rather than pulling the heavy wood open, I flip the lock and turn the light off.

  I’m questioning my sanity when I cross the room once more, climb into bed with him, and snuggle into his side.

  Chapter 18

  Briar

  Nighttime is always the worst time. Left alone with my thoughts and the horrors that visit me while I sleep are almost enough to keep me awake. It isn’t Freddy Krueger or flashes from my past that infiltrate my brain in slumber. It isn’t the disgusting and depraved things I’ve done for my club with a smile on my face.

  My dreams are filled with fantasies. Sinful and wicked things I want to do with a certain club princess.

  Groggily, with my brain still sloppy from drinking, I’m roused to semi-consciousness.

  The weight on my chest is comforting for a sliver of a second. With my eyes closed, I can pretend Molly is in my arms. It’s so soothing, I almost let my brain shut down and let sleep take over again.

  The flash of brown hair and a girl I’d never seen before fill my head, and I stiffen. Throat dry and rough from my heavy night of drinking, regret and shame hit me in the chest. The scent of the woman on my chest invades my nose, and my stomach turns.

  But when I look down, it isn’t brown hair sticking in the stubble of my beard. Blonde hair and Molly’s perfectly pouty lips greet my hazy vision.

  “Mols?” I groan, my cock thickening without further thought.

  She shifts, nuzzling against the hair on my chest before settling again.

  Something’s different. She doesn’t smell the way she should. She’s covered in a masculine scent and clothes I’ve never seen before, rather than the fresh scent of apples and a tank top and yoga pants.

  The memory of her with that fucking vet hits me in the chest like a ton of bricks.

  How dare she come to me after being with him. A deeper inhale is like acid in my lungs, the burn enough to make my arms jolt in rage.

  I’m ready to throw her off of me, insist that she get the fuck out of here. I’m seconds away from packing my shit, knowing I’d never be able to survive seeing them together, but then her hand flexes and I realize just how desperately low her touch is.

  With a thigh tossed over my legs, one arm is curled under my shoulder, but it’s the other hand that can’t be ignored. Halfway between my belly button and my erect cock, I’m grateful my dick prefers hugging my thigh rather than growing toward the waistband of my boxers. Pale fingers flex again, as if she’s playing with my happy trail in her dreams.

  My eyes clench closed, and I breathe deep.

  Another mistake.

  His cologne invades my nostrils again.

  “Molly,” I hiss, shifting my weight so she’s off of my chest and flat on her back. I cover her, ignoring the fact that her thighs part and I’m pressed against the scorching heat of her body.

  My eyes never open as my breaths rush out in sharp gusts.

  “You need to—”

  Her lips cover mine before I can finish. This isn’t the hallway. We aren’t sneaking a few private seconds with the risk of getting caught. The clubhouse is silent, and the middle of the night greets us as if swearing to hold our secrets forever. The temptation is almost enough to make me cave, but the smell of him on her skin is too much to bear.

  “Did he treat you right?” I press my cock against the apex of her thighs. “Did he make you come before he took it from you?”

  She whimpers, and with my eyes still closed, I can’t tell if I’m hurting her or if there’s a neediness to the sound.

  “Open your eyes,” she begs. I shake my head, swallowing roughly as I try to will myself to get off of her. “Please.”

  The pleading in her voice isn’t enough to get me to look down at her. “I can’t. If I open my eyes, then you underneath me is real.”

  “I’m real. Please.”

  “No,” I hiss, my hand finding the hair at the nape of her neck. I bury my face between her jaw and shoulder. “This can’t be real. We can’t be real.”

  I’m trembling, my muscles and my brain fighting one another on what should happen next. The alcohol in my system urges me to pull her clothes from her sinful body and show her what she missed out on with the vet. My brain tells me I’m a dead man either way. Clearly, they aren’t combating each other as much as I thought.

  “Mmm,” I groan when I find an area just under her ear that still smells exactly like it’s supposed to. “He missed a spot.”

  I lick at her before nipping her throat in anger. She whimpers, forcing me to soothe the sting with the suction of my mouth. Once I start, it’s impossible to stop. Focused on alternating licking with comforting kisses, I miss that her hips are undulating under me. There’s no rhythm to her movements, no practiced skill.

  “Does he know how precious you are?” I growl against her neck before shoving his shirt up and over her head.

  “Do you?” she counters halfheartedly.

  My mouth would go dry if the brush of my nose over her lacy bra didn’t make me salivate like a malnourished dog staring at a steak.

  “Open your eyes!” she screeches, but I’m too far gone to even care if someone can hear her.

  “No,” I seethe as my nose nudges the fabric away from her skin.

  Temptation taunts me, urging me to open my eyes. Just one peek, one quick glance of her naked skin would be enough to fully awaken the darkness inside of me. I won’t allow it.

  “I’m dreaming,” I mumble as her pebbled nipple tickles my lips.

  “I didn’t have sex with him.”

  “I saw you kiss him.” She squeals when I suck on her tit roughly.

  I’d like to think I’d be able to stop if I truly believed she didn’t want this, but the continuous flex of her slim hips, as if she’s trying to gain purchase to get off, is a sign I haven’t taken things too far. Yet.

  “You reek of him.”

  The biting and sucking continue, across her chest to her other nipple and up the other side of her neck.

  “Puppy. Vomit. Shower.” She’s been reduced to one-word sentences, and if I weren’t high on her and drunk on the whiskey still rushing through my blood, I might be cognizant enough to understand what she’s trying to tell me and put an end to this. But then the delicate scent of her arousal overpowers the stench he has left behind on her skin, and I’m manic, hips flexing against her center.

  “Not enough,” I grunt, reaching down and shoving his sweats out of my way. My fingers tease the edge of the lace, and once again I’m fighting the urge to open my eyes. In my mind, the lace covering her delicate flesh is the softest shade of pink, but in reality, they’re more likely black.

  “More,” she whimpers, and I know I’m taking things too far.

  I haven’t crossed the point of no return, even though I’m standing at the fucking line with one foot already dangling over the motherfucker.

  “Please, Briar. He didn’t touch me. No one has touched me there.”

  Her confession, fuck if it isn’t almost enough. I tease the edge of lace one last time before pulling my hand away, shoving down my boxers
, and settling over her once again.

  She whimpers, the sweetest, neediest sound I’ve heard her make.

  “Hold still,” I command as my hips flex against hers. She doesn’t. Of course, she fucking doesn’t. The second the heat of my bare cock touches the thin lace of her panties she’s writhing against me, rubbing her damn pussy up and down the length of me. I relish in the harsh, abrasive irritation of the fabric against the underside of the head.

  “Yes,” she moans just before my face angles down.

  Her panting breaths become mine as our foreheads meet. Lips inches apart, we breathe each other in.

  “Molly,” I hiss as my nuts tighten, imminent orgasm making itself known.

  “I love you,” she whispers just as her body quakes under mine.

  Spurt after spurt of heat erupts from my cock, but that doesn’t stop the grinding, the restless flexes of both of our bodies. It does nothing to quench my need for her.

  Our mouths meet in a rush. The slide of her tongue on mine isn’t enough. Neither is the warmth of her body or the amazing scent of her pussy as it invades my nostrils and takes over my brain. It’ll never be enough. I’m almost tempted to slide down her body and lick her clean of both of our orgasms when dizziness sets in, and I nearly collapse on her.

  “Don’t,” she whimpers softly against my mouth as I pull away. “I’m not ready to wake up yet.”

  “Me either,” I assure her, but swing my weight to the side and fall clumsily to the bed. “I never want to wake up.”

  I smile into my pillow as her soft lips meet my back in a delicate kiss.

  Chapter 19

  Molly

  “Where the fuck have you been?”

  Freezing at the sound of Lynch’s voice, I’m tempted to turn right back around and leave.

  “Jesus,” I hiss, taking my time to close the door before facing him. “Do you ever sleep?”

  “Do you always dodge my questions?”

  “I was out.”

  “Clearly.” He points a finger at my neck.

  I didn’t have time to look in the mirror before leaving Briar asleep in his bed, but it’s irritated from his mouth and the roughness of his beard. I ignore the implication and make my way to the fridge. I pull out an apple and take a big bite before turning back in his direction. I skipped dinner last night, and I’m paying for it this morning.